Author's note: For link to Mr. Goldman, check 'Flak Bait' in 'historical' section. For link to Mike's friend Philip, check 'Flip' in 'high school'.
Mile High Part 10
Kelvin cautiously glanced around his hiding place in the meager bushes that lined the road. He quickly ducked as another school bus passed, its exhaust clearly visible this cold Monday morning. He cursed the fact that another cold front had barreled through the previous night, he cursed Chris and his teammates, and he cursed Mike and Steve for having thought up the predicament he was in while they were alone in Fort Worth. Steve had even videotaped the whole thing to send to his best friend. He was sure Mr. Goldman and God knew how many others would see it too.
He cursed his own stupidity most of all! Chris had called him last night to tell him that he couldn't take him to school, but would take him home, so he'd agreed to make his regular morning run to school like he had for years. The tone of Chris's voice should have tipped him off, but he'd been on such an emotional rollercoaster the past few weeks, he must not have been thinking straight. He smirked at himself internally; hindsight is 20/20.
Chris and his teammates had caught him completely off guard when they'd exploded from different directions as he turned the last corner to the school. He'd put up a valiant struggle; Chris and some of the others would probably have a few bruises. Now he was hiding in the bushes and he had a major exam in chemistry and English today, so he couldn't stay in the bushes forever.
He took a deep breath and held it for a moment and felt his leg muscles bunch up, prepared to spring. He slowly exhaled as he jumped from his cover, making for the group of bushes a couple of hundred yards distant, at the edge of the school's parking lot. He had to be careful, though; he'd accidentally racked his nuts pretty good, they were real loose and went the wrong way between his thighs, the last time he'd run without any `support' down there. His face burned as he ran and the space between his shoulder blades began itching uncontrollably. He was out in the open now, for all the world to see.
"Sorry!" Coach Martini nervously wiped his brow. His car had come awfully close to that mailbox. He quickly glanced at Mrs. Lee and the others in his carpool. They were all laughing at his discomfort. They knew the problem would be his to handle, as usual.
"I do believe, coach,..." Mrs. Lee looked at her redfaced employee, "...that he is one of yours! Who is it? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with those parts of my students."
"I'm afraid you're right! He's one of mine!" Coach Martini grimaced. "I don't think we'll have any more of this to look forward to after I'm through with them. Let me take care of it!" He smiled to himself. "A week running the bleachers ought to handle it!"
The carpool turned back to watch the receding naked buttocks as they flashed white in the orange glow of the morning.
The two in the truck behind also watched. The driver fumbled on the seat for a moment and brought the dismounted scope up to his eye. "It would be so easy," he muttered under his breath as he centered the crosshairs on the back of the youth running away from their position. That kid was the reason he and his friends were on probation and had been expelled from school for the year! It wasn't fair! Everybody except the Principal, the Judge and, he added, the little shit's friends could see that they had just stood up for what was right. The boy deserved everything he had coming to him that day. He was going to hell anyway; why should they have to put up with his presence now?
"Hey, don't even think about doing anything so stupid!" His passenger and friend was nervously watching the driver closely. "Remember! They do it with a needle in this state!"
The driver grimaced as he let the scope drop. "Yeah, I know! The shit is the town's `darling little boy' for now, after that show he put on. That fag's the one who should have his arm strapped down with a needle in it! Him and all the others who helped him!" He silently included the bastards at Texas Tech who'd pulled their scholarship offer from him. "Fuck it!" They both turned away to get to work at his dad's auto parts store.
Kelvin finally reached the bushes he'd been aiming for. He glanced through the branches at the corridor his `friends' had made for him, along with what looked like the whole student body. He noted the way his blue running shorts waved defiantly from the top of the flagpole.
"Hey! Kelvin, hurry up! It's freezing out here!" Steve yelled, looking at the bushes where they'd seen Kel go after he'd streaked across the field.
"I think I know that! You fucks!" Kel screamed back to the accompaniment of laughter and 'OOHs' and 'AHHs' at his command of the English language. Maybe he could reason with them. "OK, you've had your fun! Go away!"
"Go away?" Sharon was almost dancing at the front of the crowd. She was enjoying her part in this. It was her revenge for being kept out of the group when they'd helped Mike. She glanced at Chris, laughing with the rest of them. She couldn't wait to show him what she'd downloaded from her mom's computer when she'd surfed all the sites she shouldn't have access to. It was grainy and obviously taken from a video, but it sure looked like Chris and, if it was, she was impressed. But for now, she was having too much fun dealing with her naked friend in the bushes. "Why should we go away? We haven't seen the show yet!"
"Fuck you too, Sharon!" Kel continued to crouch behind the cover, his frustration building. They weren't going away! He was trapped and they weren't going to let him go without completing their plan. An evil grin spread its way into his features. If he couldn't get away with his dignity, then he would make this something they would never forget. If Sharon wanted a show, then she would get one! He let his mind clear itself of all other thoughts as his eyes focused on his target.
Kel burst from his hiding place and raced at Sharon with his arms outstretched to either side. He heard the crowd laugh and scream as he made no attempt to cover himself and instead followed his target.
"Kelvin! No! Kelvin, stop!" Sharon tried to bolt back into the crowd of students but found her way blocked. Instead, she found herself running towards the locker room door at the other end of the cordon of classmates. "Kelvin! Don't you do it! Joel! Help! Joel?"
As he passed, Kel saw Joel out of the corner of his eye. Joel was in no position to help his girlfriend. He was curled into a ball on the ground, shaking uncontrollably as another fit of laughter racked his frame.
Kelvin decided he'd made his point and let her get away as he guiltily dove through the locker door being held open by his scowling coach, who'd obviously just arrived.
"Sorry, coach!" he gasped as Mr. Martini crossed through the room.
"Don't be sorry," Coach Martini smiled back. "I'm not mad at you. I don't get mad, I get even!" He decided that the home side of the stadium would do better than the visitors' side. It had twice as many steps.
Kelvin entered the cafeteria to the fourth round of whistles and applause he received that day. He thought it was strange. With a few regular exceptions, everybody's attitudes seemed to have shifted a little more favorably in his direction. All he could guess is the others appreciated it when somebody proved they could take extreme jokes and even turn them against one of the `jokers'. Hell, he'd certainly shown the whole school he had the balls (they'd certainly seen enough of them) to face anything. He waved to everybody and quickly sat next to Chris, who was holding another piece of ice to his cheek.
"That still hurt?" Kel asked his boyfriend. "You know you deserved it."
"Yeah, I guess," Chris smiled back. "It figures. I go to an initiation, and a hockey game breaks out! You can throw some wicked elbows."
"I couldn't help it. I'm ticklish." Kel gave Chris his best hurt puppy look, still playing the victim. "Besides, you surprised me."
"We were supposed to surprise you." Chris wanted to slap Kel on his head, but the teachers were watching them. "You are not ticklish. I should know, I tickled you on your...well, you're not ticklish."
"Where did you tickle him?" Sharon suddenly flounced down in the seat across from the two boys. "Oh, thank you, Kelvin. I think I broke a heel!"
"It's none of your business!" Kel retorted. "Besides, you're wearing sneakers!" He looked around for her shadow. "Where's Joel?"
"Probably hiding," Chris jumped in. "He's afraid she's gon'a tear his balls off for leaving her to your...well, whatever you were going to do."
"No, no, he's fine." She smiled at them. "He's in the auditorium, practicing. Anyway, the choir has enough sopranos." She casually leaned forward. "So, Kel. Has Chris gotten a piece of that cute little ass of yours yet?"
Chris started suddenly and began coughing uncontrollably as the diet soda he'd been drinking gushed through his nose. He couldn't believe she'd asked that! He shook his head as Kel pounded him on the back. You didn't ask two guys a question like that. Of course, they'd asked Sharon and Joel if they'd `gotten any', numerous times, so he supposed he shouldn't have been too surprised by her forwardness.
He smiled, embarrassed, at Kel. "Just what we need. I can see the headline now: `Student drowns in cafeteria'." He gasped as the intense burning in his sinuses began to ease.
"So?" Sharon wasn't about to change the subject now. "Have you two?"
"No!" both responded simultaneously. "It's none of your business."
"I didn't think so." She winked at Chris. "After what I've seen, I'd walk bowlegged for a week."
"What have you seen?" Chris felt himself on edge suddenly. She'd seen them in the shower that one time, but that was strictly from the waist up. He didn't know what she could have seen! He still felt a feeling of dread and caution; this was dangerous territory for him, after that Houston hotel room.
"Here," she smiled, oblivious to Chris's stiff posture, as she slipped a folded piece of paper to him. "I found this on the Web and I was wondering if this is you?"
Chris felt the blood drain from his face as he and Kel examined the photo. It was him, all right, lying on the bed with his hard penis in another man's hand. The memories flooded back as his face took on a faraway look. That part had been fun at the time, the rest was a nightmare. "Yes, it's me," he finally croaked. "I think I was drunk."
Sharon felt her confidence slip as she saw the look in Chris's eyes. She'd really screwed up this time. "I'm sorry," she whispered cautiously. "What happened?"
"I let some guy pick me up." Chris quietly related the story as he looked away from everybody, unable to look Kel in the eye. "He made some video, then I think he tried to put something in my drink."
"He raped you?" Kel was beside himself. Chris was taller than all of them and stronger than ninety percent of the students there.
"No." Chris was tearing up; he'd thought all that was behind him. "I don't know if he was going to or not. If he put something in my drink, it didn't have the effect he wanted." He quickly glanced around. "I don't want to talk about it any more." Chris stood suddenly and strode out of the building.
"Chris, wait up!" Kelvin finally reached him and put his arms around his chest. "She didn't know!" He'd left her crying. "And I don't care! You're still my love, nothing can change that!"
"Kel! We're in the middle of the parking lot!" Chris glanced around nervously.
"I said,..." Kel pulled Chris even tighter, "...I don't care! I love you! Not some picture, you!"
"I don't know why,..." Chris gave in and returned the embrace, his cheeks wet, "...you deserve better."
"Chris?" Kel smiled up at his boyfriend and wiped his face for him. "Shut the fuck up! I know what I want and you're it!"
"I knew we shouldn't have done that this morning." Chris lay next to Steve, their worn legs folded over the lowered tailgate of Steve's truck.
"Yeah, I know what you mean." Steve was still massaging out an earlier cramp. "I can't believe we'll have all week to run those stairs. Coach must have been really pissed." He lifted his pounding head slightly to look al the field house. "Where's Kelvin?"
"Probably still puking his guts out!" Chris closed his eyes against the sun. "Like the rest of us." Chris smiled grimly. Up and down, up and down, for a couple of hours. He reached for another glucose tablet in his wallet. He was starting to feel lightheaded again. Great', he thought, All I need now is to finish the day with an insulin reaction.'
"Shit! I'm out!" He fumbled again in the change pocket. "Shit! That's all I need!"
"Out of what?" Steve looked at Chris, alarmed. He had slurred his last words. "Are you OK?"
"No." Chris was nervous. He knew an insulin reaction could come on quickly for a diabetic, but this was ridiculous. He usually had twenty to thirty minutes after he felt the first signs of one before it became serious. "I need some sugar, a candy bar? Coke?"
"I don't have any." Steve didn't really understand, but figured Chris knew what he needed. "Kelvin's on his way over. I think you should let him drive. There's a `stop and rob' a couple of blocks towards town. You want me to follow? Make sure you're OK?"
"No." Chris hesitantly got to his feet and proceeded to meet Kel at `the beast'. "I'll be OK." At least he thought he said he'd be OK. He wasn't really sure how it came out. He hated it when he had to deal with a serious reaction. It made people think he was drunk and he hated being out of control, drunk in any way.
Kelvin ran into the small store and headed to the soda cooler. He was scared to death. He'd never been around Chris when he was having a problem with his diabetes. Chris had always hidden it so well before. He tried not to totally freak, he didn't want his lover to be self- conscious around him, but he couldn't help it.
"Hey, kid? Get out of here!" The clerk almost yelled. "I don't want you in here."
"What?" Kelvin stopped and looked at the clerk who'd spoken, incomprehension on his face. "Why? I just need a Coke for my friend."
"I said 'get out'." The clerk was becoming more belligerent. "I don't sell to queers."
Kel thought about just taking what Chris needed. He felt he didn't have time to argue with this asshole, but he figured Chris would never forgive him for going to jail over what Chris still insisted was a minor problem.
"Fuck you!" Kel yelled over his shoulder as he quickly exited the store empty handed. He had other places to try before he'd give up and have to take Chris to the hospital. He made a note to tell his dad about this place. He thought they bought their oil from Stuart Petroleum. He ducked his head guiltily as he left a couple of black tire tracks behind when he peeled out of that place. He shouldn't have been so hard on Chris's car, but he was pissed and looking for revenge.
Kel smiled gratefully as he saw Chris finish off the rest of the cola and relax, waiting for the sugar to flow through his bloodstream. The lady at the Exxon station had been really nice to him. He just hated that they'd had to wait until the interstate to find a cooperative store clerk. Granted, this stupid town only had three stations with stores attached, but this was ridiculous.
"Thanks. I'll be OK now." Chris smiled weakly. This was so embarrassing to him. He'd always had much better control of his blood sugar than this. He hadn't accounted for the increased physical activity. He vowed to be more careful this week. He looked at his watch. "Shit, it's four thirty."
"Why? What did you want to do?" Kel asked as he slipped back behind the wheel.
"I was going to take my paycheck to the bank and open an account." Chris looked at the slip of paper in his wallet.
"If you're feeling better,..." Kel checked his boyfriend over, "...we can still go if you want. I think they close at five."
"I don't know." Chris sounded bitter. Those small town bigots would have preferred to see him in a coma. "Do you think they'll want a queer's money?"
"I don't see why not?" Kel tried to lighten Chris's mood. "Your money's green, not pink."
"I don't think I'll try today." Chris knew he was completely faded and suspected Kel was too. The coach's punishment had been hard on them all, and that was before his `crisis'. "I'm gon'a drive into Midland and open an account at one of the big banks there, tomorrow."
"That's almost an hour and a half away." Kel looked on quizzically. "How you gon'a get there in time?"
"I'm just gon'a have to ask the coach if I can leave early from our torture tomorrow." Chris finally smiled. "Maybe he'll let me go if I promise he can hang me by my balls from the goalpost later."
"Well I don't think you'll have to go that far." Kel cupped his groin dramatically. "I was going to ask if you wanted some company tomorrow, but if you're going to promise the coach that, then I think I'd better pass."
"What did you want to go to Midland for?" Chris let Kel's jibe pass. "I'm just going to a bank. Nothing exciting."
"You don't think I can go to the local drugstore here, do you?" Kel shook his head, trying not to laugh. "I'm not the only one with a cute ass around here."
Chris started, staring at Kel. Slowly a sly grin spread. "Somehow, I don't think Steve will let you near his butt."
"You jerk off!" Kel was ready for this game. "I wasn't talking about Steve, although his is better looking than your hairy ass."
Chris let a false hurt look cross his face. He knew Kel was playing now. His ass, like the rest of him was, distressingly, anything but hairy. He still only shaved once every two weeks. His short, dark haired, boyfriend could probably grow a decent mustache, not the thin shadow he was generating. "I'll tell him you said that! Do you want flowers or a cash donation to the assholes of America?"
"You're the only asshole I'm interested in." Kel gleefully ignored the mock threat. "But I don't want to hurt you."
"Like you could hurt me!" Chris glanced back; Kel was sounding more and more like he was serious. He couldn't be sure, though, so he rose to the taunt. "I shit bigger than you! Besides, You'll have to catch me before I'd let you or anyone else try for my butt and I think I proved I'm faster than you the other night!" Chris winced internally. He should have left well-enough alone. What had gotten into Kel all of a sudden? He'd proven that he could be a horny little bastard when he wanted to be. "Hell, you wouldn't know what to do if you ever caught me!" Chris winced again. There it was, he'd laid out the challenge and walked right into it. It wasn't that he hadn't thought about taking the next step, but he had to admit he was afraid of it as well.
"There you go again," Kel smiled at his afternoon target, "saying sweet nothings to me." He winked at Chris to put him at ease. This was getting out of control. "I was just kidding. We don't have to do anything, but don't tell me I can't catch you if I want to. I think I already have." Kel let a sigh escape as they continued back through town towards his house. "I don't think either of us would know what to do if we caught each other," he quickly smiled, "but I'm willing to learn, if you are."
"So if we do this?" Chris nervously looked down at the bulges they both had now. "How we gon'a learn and who goes first?" Chris already knew the answer to his first question. Somewhere along the line they'd already decided. "I don't think I'm up for `trial and error'."
"I suppose I could use my dad's computer." Kel couldn't help but grin. "Or I could call Mr. Goldman's pilot." He couldn't resist another tease. "I'm certain he'd be more than willing to demonstrate on you, after that show you put on for him."
"I told you before, I wasn't putting on a show!" Chris was beginning to feel he'd never live that episode down. "I was just fighting with the fuel hose and trying to stay on the ladder at the same time. I couldn't help but bend over in front of him. I didn't know he was looking!"
"God, you can be so dense some times." Kel twisted his knife a little bit more. "I don't think the fuel line was the `hose' he was interested in." He decided to let his boyfriend off the hook. "Anyway, I'll look up the information somehow and I'll go first after I beat your ass out on the track."
"Beat me?" Chris relaxed as they pulled up at Kel's house. "In your dreams! I've got something you can beat!" Chris smiled to himself. The other issue was settled. "Hey, make sure the seat's back. I don't want to eat my knees!"
Coach Martini watched the two boys as they stumbled through the last of their punishment for the day. He'd let them go early on Tuesday - he figured he was getting soft in his old age - with a promise to make it up on Thursday. He smiled to himself; Kelvin and Chris were inseparable now. The whole school knew they were `an item'. He didn't know how to handle it at first. He'd never had to before! He sent a silent thanks to Mrs. Lee. She'd told him that they were just a couple of ordinary kids and he should make no other allowances. He had to admit, the two of them didn't really act any different from the others he had coached over the years. Their high spirited pranks were harmless, although this last one did raise some eyebrows. He finally let his grin show through; maybe he'd hang around for another year, after all. He couldn't wait to see what his track team could do to top what they'd done this year. He wanted to make sure they wouldn't do any permanent damage.
"That's enough!" he yelled at the two. "Go on in!"
Kel wanted to collapse as he and Chris slowly made their way back to the lockers. One more day,' he thought to himself, one more day.'
"I'm giving the team the day off tomorrow." Coach Martini followed the two into the room. "If you two think you can keep your clothes on, that is." He wanted to take care of a final piece of business. "Mr. Stuart, I'll want you to fill in on some of the events I had Mike running; you too, Mr. Bauchamp. I'll let you know tomorrow which ones."
"Yes, sir," both mumbled in reply as they shed their gear.
"I ought to kick your ass for getting me into this." Kel barely watched the coach leave as he collapsed on the bench and lay on his back, looking at Chris. "I hurt all over."
"Join the club," Chris wearily smiled back. "I didn't want to have all the fun." He sat by Kel and casually stroked his hand through his boyfriend's curly hair. "Com'on, let's get cleaned up and get out'a here."
"Yeah, I guess." Kel couldn't help but grin back. "So much for finding out who's faster tomorrow. I guess I win by default."
"I don't think so," Chris replied. "You come out to the airport tomorrow night. We'll settle it there, one end of the runway to the other."
"That's not much of a race." Kel gave Chris a sly look.
"I'm talking about long ways." Chris shook his head in exasperation and slapped Kel's flat stomach as he rose to shower. "Com'on, dickless, let's go." He refrained from grabbing Kel by that organ even though it was plainly in sight, doing its usual `down and to the left'. He didn't want the coach to see anything else they would get in trouble for. Besides, he wasn't up to starting anything right now, his body hurt too much.
Kel let the last comment go as he sat up and rubbed the slightly red fading hand print. He just added it to his `reasons to win'. He hoped what he'd downloaded would work and that his dad would never find the file. He nervously watched Chris flop from side to side as he went to the shower. Thank God they loved each other so much. If he were ever raped by somebody Chris's size he knew he probably wouldn't live through it! He smiled to himself; OK, he was exaggerating, but barely. In a way he was glad that Chris was just as nervous about what they'd planned as he was. He felt he wouldn't be nearly as self-conscious about trying something as new and forbidden as this seemed to be. That it had become a game to them made it less threatening as well.
Chris used his foot to guide the fuel hose back on its reel. Finished, he looked back at the modified Cessna Citation. These guys - people, he corrected himself (one was a woman) - had freaked him out when they'd arrived. The four had exited the jet wearing worn jeans and rock T-shirts under their DEA windbreakers. It wasn't what he'd expected from Federal Agents. Where were their blue suits, name badges, and radios? These people looked more like they belonged behind bars, not putting people behind bars. The lady with them had noticed his furtive looks and explained, smiling, that the ones who went to jail were the ones wearing the expensive blue suits.
The four agents were lounging in the terminal, waiting for the Blackhawk helicopter that was following, after they'd taken care of their potty break. Chris hoped they'd leave soon. Kel was on his way to the field and he was looking forward to finally spending some time alone with him.
"Have you heard anything from the others?" He noticed the four agents step outside. One was speaking into a handheld radio that had appeared as if by magic.
"They're about ten minutes out," the lady spoke. She seemed to be the one in charge. "Would you like to look inside our bird while we wait?"
"Sure!" Chris followed her over to the door and waited while she switched the batteries on. The interior was surprisingly sparse compared to the corporate versions he'd looked in, although not many carried the armament this one did, all neatly stacked in a rack near the entrance. He was careful to avoid that!.
What fascinated him the most, however, was the console that, he learned, controlled the infared video turret on the bottom of the plane. The green image on the screen was amazing as she swung the camera around, showing him a daytime world at night.
The agent loved to show off their toys' like this. It was fun to see everybody's first reaction to that kind of military based technology. Who knows?' she thought, `They might get a future agent out of this.' She manipulated the trackball control a little more as she explained how the DEA had grafted an F-16 search radar on the nose of this former business plane.
She noticed the pickup at the end of the runway and zoomed in on the hot, bright image. The kid would love spying on what had to be a couple of his friends having a little fun in the dark corner of the road.
She zoomed in even closer and felt her blood turn to ice. Something wasn't right here. She examined the cold black line moving in the cab.
"Chris?" She looked again at the nametag on his shirt. "Get inside the building. Now!" This was absurd! They were nowhere near the border, but she knew that some smugglers made it a habit to watch airports to keep track of where they were operating. They'd even been attacked once, but that was near Laredo on the Mexican boarder. This didn't make sense. Who was this guy after?
She pulled her radio. "Sniper!"
End of Part 10
Once again, my thanks to Ed for making the story much easier to read.
I hope you are continuing to enjoy the story. I do try to answer the E-Mails I get, when I can. Thanks to everybody who's written so far. If I haven't answered yet, please remind me. Nothing a good swift kick wouldn't help me with.(Grin). As always, let me know what you think.
Thanks. Willy B. (haztech@msn.com)