Young Volcanoes Chapter 1
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Young Volcanoes
~ by Billy Wright ~**
Welcome, and get ready! Hope you like the story you are about to dive into (which wouldn't have been possible without the amazing Arch Hunter). You are in for some explicit sexual scenes between boys, so be warned. Any and all thoughs are welcome, just send me an email:
billy.alexander.wright@gmail.com
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Chapter 1
Meet the Booze
The house is big. Not stupid-rich big but certainly bigger than I imagined. From the moment you open the door, I can see you aren't thrilled to have me here. Yeah, sorry, I didn't want to be here either.
"Do you want something to drink?" You ask me, trying to be nice but the words sound forced.
I inspect you carefully. "Are you offering me booze?"
"I..." You hesitate, surprised. "You are 18 already, right?"
I smirk at that. "I'm just playing with you," I say, taking the glass from your hand. "And, for your information, yes, I just turned 18. Last week actually, so no big deal. And yes, I know I look 16, shut up."
That doesn't make you happy. Your eyes dance over my body, scrutinizing every inch of me from head to toe. I do the same to you.
You are not ugly but I'm not going to admit that. Is it common for someone my age to compliment a forty-something man? I suppose it isn't weird in today's culture but I wouldn't use it as my pick-up line of choice. Plus, I like the way you dress and the little trace of your chest hair is intriguing. I can even make out the shape of the beast hiding in your jeans. But, as I said, I'm not going to tell you that.
"How long are you...?"
"Just one night," I interrupt you. "So don't worry, I won't bother you for long."
We sit there awkwardly for several minutes until you invite me to go out into the terrace. It is nice. You start a fire on the burner and give me a blanket. It's cold but I prefer it this way. The night is heavy. It's almost 1 am.
"What happened?" You ask out of nowhere.
"Didn't my mom tell you?" Okay, that one is my fault, dick move. I know you and my mom are angry at each other so I go easy on you. "My passport. Can't leave the country. There is some trouble with one of the stamps but the embassy won't open until the morning. There wouldn't be a problem but mom has this conference tomorrow so I offered to stay behind. And since you are the only person we know in Italy..."
"Oh..." You offer, suddenly uninterested. "Yeah, she said something like that."
It is confirmed then, you hate me. But why? I'm not responsible for that fight you never cared to tell me about. I assume it must've been big. I mean, people just don't suddenly move to Italy out of nowhere. I would like to ask you the details but I don't want to argue, not now.
"Hey," now is my turn to try and start a conversation. "Were you watching A Marriage Story when I came in?"
"Yeah," you nod. "Scarlett is such a great actress."
"Yeah, you are right, she is." It is nice, you know? To be able to agree on something. "But the movie, I don't know. It was good but not amazing."
"Not amazing?" Great, now you sound pissed. Why am I not surprised?
"Your generation knows nothing about how complicated relationships can be. You only like happy endings and that BS Disney stuff."
"I've had my fair share of complicated relationships, thank you very much," I almost laugh. "I'd gladly share them with you but you'd automatically assume I'm being dramatic so, why bother?"
"If they are dramatic, that's on you. You've always loved drama," you grin. "Besides, how long have I known you? Since you were five, maybe six? I don't know but as far as I remember, you never dated anyone. At least not officially."
"Well, I started dating someone after you left. A boy. You even met him once. Do you remember Armando?"
It takes you more than a few seconds. I can tell it doesn't ring a bell but I can't blame you, you only saw him once after all. "Oh!" You snap your fingers. "The skeleton guy, right?"
Skeleton guy, I repeat in my mind. I guess you can call him that. I mean, he was dressed like a skeleton, I think before landing back on Earth. "Yeah, that one: Armando."
"Are you still dating?"
"Nope," I state. "He hates me now. He hates my guts more than hell. For a good reason, too. We had a pretty big fight... in the middle of the woods, no less. Dramatic, I know. It was a real shitshow."
"What? But he seemed to be super into you, he was in a suit, combed hair, he even gave you flowers. How did...?"
"It's complicated," I cut you before looking away. "Yeah, the guy who gave me flowers ended up hating me. Told you I knew what complicated was."
You lean forward in your seat, intrigued. "Very well then. Go ahead."
"Go ahead?" I tilt my head. "With what?"
"Tell me the story," you raise your glass. "Tell me how the fuck -pardon my language- did you manage to turn the guy who gave you flowers into the guy who hates your guts more than hell?"
Your words take me by surprise. Do you actually want to hear my story? I try to reply but I can't hold your gaze so, instead, I behold for the first time the place we are at. I examine the shadow of your house next to us, the pool in your backyard, and the warm, orange fire, creaking and keeping us warm.
"Okay, I'll tell you," I say, sitting down by the fire. "But you know I'm gay so don't make any faces. And there's a lot of sex and fuck-ups ahead."
"You teenagers always think you are the first ones to discover sex," you disregard me with a hand gesture. "Just go ahead."
I don't respond to that provocation. Instead, I start my story:
"So, I don't know if you remember my two best friends in high school, Buch and Morgan?"
"Oh, yeah," you reply. "The Irish one and the black one. You used to hang out with them a lot."
I ignore your mildly racist comment. Yeah, Morgan was -or rather still is- black but he was also athletic, good with fashion, and had a hundred other traits aside from his skin color. But I can't blame you too much, after all, you mostly knew them by sight.
"Well, I don't know if Buch is Irish, I mean he had red hair but, still."
"Okay, yeah," you shrug it off. "Your two best friends back then, what with them?"
"Well, I don't know if you knew or know or suspected or anything but, well, I and my friends, the three of us were gay. Surprise," I add ironically.
"The three of you?" You stare at me in disbelief. "Well, I knew about you, of course, and I did suspect about Buch because, well, he wasn't exactly very discreet about it. But Morgan? Really? I guess that explains why he hung out with you two."
"I guess, well, technically Morgan isn't gay but bi. Still, back when high school began and the three of us were just starting to hang out, we didn't know that about each other."
"Really? Three gay guys hanging out and you didn't know?"
"I swear. We didn't know because, even though Buch was very obvious, Morgan and I were still in the closet. You can say it was a coincidence we started hanging out together but I think it was more of a subconscious decision. I don't know but the point is that the three gay boys from class... we were in the same group of friends."
"And what was your group of friends called, The Gay Guys?"
"You'd think that," I agree. "But no, although, actually we did have a name. See, it turned out that we had something else in common besides being gay and friends. Let's see if you can find what it is..."
You lean forward, I can see the curiosity shining in your eyes.
I imitate you and, after a few seconds of silence, I give you a clue: "Think about our names. I'm John or Johnny, they are Morgan and Buch. John, Morgan, and Buch. John, Morgan, and Buch. Ring any bells?"
You take a moment. The light of the moon makes you look mysterious and captivating. I wonder if you are able to feel my eyes on your skin. Can you feel me looking at you?
"I don't know..." you stutter. "But if I had to say I'd say: The Bar."
That puts a smile on my face. "Why do you think that?"
"Well," you raise your glass, proud. "It's like the bottles. Morgan made me think of the rum, Captain Morgan. You are John which of course is like Johnny Walker. And Buch could be, maybe, Buchanan's or something. They are all bottles, hence... The Bar."
"Close. Very close. But no. They called us The Booze," I say, laughing.
"Pretty stupid name," you complain.
"Especially since I was one of the few kids in high school who wasn't used to drinking alcohol. It fogged my mind and made me do things. Yet, I was part of The Booze. That's why they started calling me Johnny and why I said Captain every time I talked to Morgan."
"Captain, Johnny, and Buch" you recite as if it were a play. "Man, you were really into that Booze name."
"Actually, I didn't like The Booze but couldn't change it. Believe me, I tried. I even summoned a vote to change the name but Buch and Morgan said our group wasn't a democracy."
"Nice friends you chose there."
"You have no idea," I laugh. "Okay, so. It all started one Monday morning..."
/ / /
It all started one Monday morning.
"You know... I think I want a boyfriend," Buch said. One would assume his words were cute but by that point, I was desensitized by his comments because Buch used to say that exact thing every other week. "I really need one. A gentleman. Someone sweet and caring. Where are all the good men?"
I rolled my eyes and tried not to laugh. Captain, who was drinking a soda, started to choke on it, turning away before staring at Buch, playing with his own fingers.
"Hey, are you okay?" I said, patting him in the back. "You don't need to be so shocked, Buch always talks as if his date was the love of his life but always just dumps him after three days."
"Hey, I don't just dump boys," Buch said, offended.
"Yeah you do," I insisted. "It's always the same, you find a new guy every other weekend, you go out with him, have fun, but by Monday, when I ask how things turned out you always say: I left him, blocked his number and deleted him from every social network."
"It's true," Captain added. "You always find a reason to break up with them."
"Fuck you, guys," Buch stated.
Captain and I both laughed. "What? You don't believe us?" I managed to say. "Look, I'll prove it," I try to compose myself and look at Buch with a serious face. "How was your date last night with that small-town boy?"
"You dumped him, didn't you?" Captain teased. "You blocked him from your phone."
Buch opened his mouth but didn't say a thing, he just moved his eyes from me to Captain and then back to me.
"I'll take that silence as a yes," I giggled.
"Okay, I said it once and I'll say it again: fuck you, guys. And so you know, this one did have a good reason for me to block him: He was too clingy! Too obssessed with rules. It's not my fault other people aren't perfect."
"Are you saying you are?" I inquired.
"Nobody is perfect. Nobody. But we three are pretty close," Buch smirked devilishly. "I just need to find a boy who isn't..."
"As easy as you?" Captain Morgan interrupted.
"Shut up!" Buch pushed Captain with a grin. "You are mean, you know that, sister? Besides, you are as easy as me. Only Johnny can call me easy because he is basically a nun."
"I'm not a nun!" I complained. "The fact that I don't hump everything that moves doesn't mean I'm a nun. I'm just waiting..."
"Until marriage?" Buch interrupted me. "Such a nun."
"Maybe he is saving his body for Jesus," Morgan added wood to the fire.
"I don't know why I hang out with you," I stood up, "You are evil, you know that? You are like a pair of witches."
That made them laugh. "Witches, why? Because we are green and are full of warts?"
"No," I turned to them, getting closer before whispering: "Because you like to ride broomsticks."
The three of us lost it, bursting into laughter. I sat back down, the people around us gave us confused glances. We didn't care.
"Nice one," Captain chuckled. "But Johnny, don't fool yourself, you like sticks as much as we do, you are a witch too. It just so happens that you are also a nun. A witch-nun, the holiest one in our coven."
"Such a nun," Buch said. "Go ahead, you can start singing about all your favorite things."
/ / /
"Now stop right there! Isn't that a Sound of Music reference?"
"Maybe," I wink. "Come on, you know that's one of my guilty pleasures!"
You give me a mischievous grin. "If one of your pleasures is about a novice then maybe Buch is right and you were a nun."
I open my mouth but you've caught me, the words get stuck in my throat. I only manage to scoff.
"You said it yourself: holiest one in the coven," you raise your shoulders ironically.
"Very funny," I have nothing better to defend myself with. "Now, if you let me continue..."
/ / /
Instead of taking their jokes, I raised my head and said something that would change things forever: "Actually..." I said before making a strategic pause, delighted with their impatient stares. "Remember the guy from yesterday?"
Buch came close to me. "The mall guy?"
"Yeah, him..." I smiled as soon as his name came up. "Well, let's just say yesterday was the first time I stayed up texting until dawn. And yeah, before you say anything, I know he's a stranger, I know he could be a serial killer, and that I shouldn't trust guys giving me their phone number in public places but..."
I didn't have to say anything else, they got what I was saying, their eyes twinkling with joy and curiosity. My romantic life seemed to always enchant them. Maybe because I didn't have much of it. I had dated a few guys before but nothing serious had ever come out of it. This one, however, was different. It felt different.
"His name is Armando..." I said, looking at the floor. "Well, the point is that he asked me out. I'm meeting him today after school."
"About time!" Buch exclaimed, pointing at the clouds.
"Well done, man" Captain patted me in the back.
"And so the dry season ends for dear little Johnny..." Buch teased.
"You've been blessed with holy water, falling from the sky."
"And it's gonna make you wet,"
"Dude!" Captain pushed Buch in the shoulder. "What's wrong with you?"
"Well it's true!" Buch argued. "Just look, our dry nun's got a date."
I stayed silent, trying not to laugh. My face was pretending to be annoyed but, if I was honest, I was enjoying it.
"Why don't you invite him to the Halloween party?" Captain suggested then, turned towards his backpack and gave me yet another poster for that Halloween party.
"No promises," I replied, taking the damn thing. I was excited, that Halloween Party was going to be my first grown-up party. Yet, Captain had been so adamant in making us go it became annoying so I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of my excitement. "Besides, that's still weeks away."
"So what?" Captain replied. "You are not planning on dumping Armando like Buch does his boys, are you?"
"Of course not but this is just the first date. If this is to become something more we need to click, to have a je-ne-sais-quoi, a zsa zsa zsu, a spark. So, if we do, I'll take him to the party. If not..."
"Dump him like Buch does his boys?"
"Dump him like Buch does his boys."
"Will you shut up?" Buch complained.
/ / /
I got ready, dressed, and perfumed. I went to the mall and waited in the agreed spot. Turns out, Armando was there before me, sitting on one of the outdoor benches. My feet froze. Suddenly, it was hard for me to breathe... Lord, how was I supposed to approach him?
I stared at him, at Armando. Oh, Armando. His name, God, his name alone was enough to create a warm and fuzzy feeling inside me. He looked so radiant, so perfect, so... dream-like. He was sitting there in the middle of the mall, looking around, waiting for me.
He was my age, maybe a year older. His hair wasn't black but brown, shining warmly with the sun. His skin was olive, tanned, and his eyes were big and seemed to beam as if he had a star hidden in them. His face, oh his face was as smooth and warm as a piece of bread straight out of the oven. A little childlike but I didn't care, he was definitely cute.
I had no reason to be afraid. After all, Armando had asked me out, not the other way around. So, he must've found me attractive, right?
Slowly, I gathered the courage to walk towards him and, pretending not to have been there waiting for a while, I raised my hand, greeting him.
"Hey, there."
"Hey!" Armando smiled when he saw me. Let me say that again: He smiled when he saw me! Can you imagine? Someone smiling just because he has seen you. As if your presence was enough to make them happy. I almost melted, both excited and nervous.
"Hey, you! There, I..." I started rambling. "How are you...? Is everything..." Shit. "Sorry, I was just trying to say hey, so... hey.
"Hi, Johnny," Armando greeted me, confident and calm.
"Oh, please, don't say Johnny. Call me John. Please."
"Oh? Sounds like there's some history there."
"Believe me, you don't want to hear it."
"Very well, then John it is."
I looked down at my shoes, not knowing what else to say. We stood in there, in silence for several seconds. I got anxious and couldn't stand the silence any longer so I just said the first thing that came into my head. "You are pretty on-time, I see."
I was lame.
"I'm not that punctual," I reply. "Well, maybe I am sometimes, for some things."
"Maybe you are only punctual for things that matter."
"Are you trying to say you matter, little John?" He said, almost making me jump. He seemed to enjoy doing that to me. Oh, wow, Armando was very direct. I was starting to love that about him. But I wasn't going to give up without a fight.
"I'm saying all first dates matter."
"Good answer," he complimented me, and I, in return, winked at him. God, I must've looked stupid. I was mentally kicking myself. However, I had an ace under my sleeve:
"Oh, by the way. I know you said you wanted to go to the movies but do you mind doing something else?"
"Sure, do you have something in mind or...?"
I didn't answer, my face just lit up and I started to walk away. Without being instructed, Armando followed me.
I may have been the nun of the Booze, the holiest one of the coven, but I had dated a little and knew a couple of tricks. I had every intention to make my date with Armando a memorable one.
I had spent the better part of the morning planning where to go and, by the end, I had reached a pretty satisfying conclusion: the arcade. Oh, but not just the arcade in general, I had two very specific games in mind.
So, when we got there, I took Armando to the front of the building. I was smiling.just fell into my trap: we were next to the Zombie killing machine.
The expression on his face was priceless. "You brought me to... kill zombies?" It was a big machine with two giant seats in front of an enormous screen. It had 3D glasses and two big plastic guns to move around.
"What?" I asked him, taking a seat and a gun. "Afraid of zombies?"
Armando scoffed. "You are so going to regret this, I'm the best zombie killer you've ever seen."
"Prove it," I put a few tokens into the machine and the game began. We were trapped in some sort of prison when a wave of zombies appeared in front of us. I had played this game a few times before so I already knew what to do. I, single-handedly, took care of most of the zombies in front of us.
After that, a big fat zombie sprinted towards me. Anyone else would've frozen with that jump scare, but not me. I raised my gun and killed him with one shot to the head, his weak spot. Then, another one appeared, running towards Armando.
"Don't worry if you don't hit him the first time, it is..."
BANG! BANG! BANG! The fat zombie fell to the ground with a boom. Not only had Armando managed to headshot him, but he also shot an explosive barrel and carved out a secret path I had never seen before.
My mouth was open. "Have you ever...?"
"First time," Armando grinned proudly, his eyes were saying: "told you I was good."
We spent at least half an hour in the game. To my surprise, when I died, Armando still managed to survive another five minutes on his own. He even reached another secret path before a wave of zombie-pirates took his life.
"You are far more serious about zombie killing than I thought," I removed the glasses and left the gun in its place.
"Guess you could say I am a bit of a fan," Armando stood up, following me. "Actually, I thought you were planning to take me to your home or something. I really wasn't expecting you to bring me to an arcade. I like it."
To bring him home? I thought. That was a weird thing to say. Who takes a boy home on the first date, who...? Then I remembered Buch and it all made sense.
We walked through the second ace under my sleeve: the basketball hoops. Machines with a little hoop and three basketballs. It is simple, whoever scores the most points wins.
"So zombies don't scare you," I said, pointing at the game. "But what about a real sport?"
"Basketball?" Armando spoke with confidence. "I beat you with zombies, my dear John. I will beat you again."
I smirked. I was hoping he would say that. "Then... What do you say if we make this interesting? Let's make a bet."
Armando grinned. Oh, now we were playing.
/ / /
"Okay so, I suppose you remember from when I was a child but I have always been great at basketball," I say before you squint at me with disbelief. "What, gay people can't be good at sports?"
"I didn't say that. Just, I remember. You were good, pretty good, even, but great?"
"It's my story and I say I was great."
"Okay," you roll your eyes. "Carry on."
/ / /
"What do you want to bet?"
"Easy," I stretched my arms. "Something you want to win but would hate to lose."
I thought about things like... the loser has to take off his shirt, give the winner a bj, and even kiss the winner on the lips. All those were good ideas, especially since they took things to the next level. Yet, I was enjoying my time with Armando so I kept it simple.
"Well... I do like sunflowers, they're my favorites but I think... Ice cream! The loser has to buy an ice cream cone for the winner."
Armando glanced at me with a weird face. It was as if he had been expecting me to say something else. I don't know what he was thinking but his expression became sweeter, tender. "Deal."
The tokens went in, the hoops got up, and the basketballs came rolling to our hands.
I started shooting like crazy, one ball after another. Next to me, Armando wasn't just keeping up with my speed, he was two points ahead. I put my head back in the game and started shooting faster and faster. We were humans no longer, only machines throwing one hoop after another, feeling the drops of sweat slide through our foreheads.
Mages shooting fireballs, friends skipping stones on a lake, knights firing arrows, pitchers hurling curveballs. I almost didn't notice when the alarm roared and the game stopped. We both stood there for a moment, our chests going up and down with our breathing. The scores were shining in big, red bright lights.
"I guess this means you owe me an ice-cream cone," I said with confidence, trying to appear normal as my arms burned and my heart bumped out of my chest. Armando had almost defeated me. I had only won by one point.
"I owe you?" Armando leaned on the machine. "What are you talking about, we are tied. I won at zombies, you won here. We need a tie-breaker."
"What? No! The bet was only with the basketball hoops!"
Armando didn't listen, he just started walking away, deeper into the arcade and when I didn't follow, he turned around. "What? Afraid?"
I took a deep breath and went after him. I didn't know towards which game we were headed but the deeper we went into the arcade, the fewer machines there were. Then, there was only one: the Dance, Dance Revolution machine.
Armando pointed at the neon sign. "Do you know how to dance?"
"Dance? For real?" I shoved invisible dust from my shoulders. "You are so going to regret this. You won't believe how good my moves are."
He stepped on the machine, extending his hand towards me.
"Prove it."
Armando liked a challenge. This is the part where I would like to say that we both shined like two suns before the machine, that we crushed it on that neon dance floor but, to be honest, we were barely passable. People stopped by to look at us, two young boys dancing to an electronic rhythm, missing almost every beat.
It was a horrible dance, it was an awful performance, and it was a ton of fun.
We were pretty much tied but then, near the end of the dance, I turned towards Armando and to my surprise, he wasn't there. He had stepped off the machine, had taken out his phone, and was pointing it at me.
"What are you doing?"
"Don't stop!" He said, recording. "Keep dancing, John. You are doing great," then, in a whisper, he added: "Oh, God, this is so good."
I was about to step off but for some reason, I kept dancing. I danced and I danced until the song reached its final beat. I took a jump, extending my hand into the air making a rock sign with my fingers.
"How good your moves are, really?" He teased me, replaying the video.
"As if yours were any better."
I had won the bet but he got a video of my horrible dance moves. At least when we walked out of there and he bought me a nice, big, double vanilla, chocolate cookie ice-cream cone. He had a mint one.
"Here, I paid my debt," Armando said. "I hope you are satisfied."
Oh, he had no idea.
/ / /
"So you knew Armando before he showed up dressed as a skeleton," you reflect, thinking about the story.
"I did, yes. The skeleton thing comes later, though. Armando would end up hating me but right then, I was head over heels for him and he... well, I think he also enjoyed our first date. I mean, we had ice cream"
"As if ice cream automatically makes everything better. I don't like ice cream," you say with candor. I make a hurt expression, making you concede so you add: "but I remember you've always loved it."
The way you say those words, the way you murmur them through your lips, it makes me notice something. You are enjoying this. I don't know what it is, maybe you just missed me and are too stubborn to admit it.
I missed you too but I would never tell you that.
"Well if you must know I jerked off thinking of him that night," I say out of nowhere. I don't know why but I feel the need to make you uncomfortable. "What? It's perfectly natural."
"After the first date?"
"He was really hot," I shrugged. "I liked him for who he was but there's nothing wrong with having that great personality wrapped up in a beautiful package. Besides, it was a special jerk off."
"You have special jerk offs?"
"You don't?" I look at you, so old-fashioned.
"Well, let me tell you about my special jerk offs" I start. "I take my time, not just beat off in the bathroom. I... well, I go to my room, lock the door and well, it is special when the action starts before I even take off my clothes. I let my hands run wild through my clothes, feeling the fabric pressing against my skin, my fingers caressing every inch of my body. Then... take everything off, my shirt, my shoes, my socks, my pants and, when I'm in my boxers I just look at myself in the mirror and let the excitement grow and grow until I'm hard. Then I take it all off. I lay on my bed, naked before closing my eyes. I touch my body, all of it, my chest, my legs, my nipples, and my neck. It excites me. Then I start jerking off."
I glance at you discretely. What are you thinking right now? What's on your mind? Are you picturing me naked? Are you trying to imagine my body without my clothes on it? Do you feel the excitement my words carry with them? What does my skin look like from your eyes? I know this is more than I have ever told you and, to be honest, I'm not sure why I told you in the first place.
"Special jerk off," you whisper.
"Special jerk off," I repeat.
We let those words sink in. Are you thinking about me jerking off? Did I paint a good enough picture on your mind? I hope so, I really do.
After a while, you refill both of our glasses with booze. "Then?" You ask. "How did he end up hating you?"
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So, how was the first chapter? A little different from most other stories, right? Some may think it's weird but I think you'll appreciate the breath of fresh air. Plus, who doesn't want a story where you are literally a character? Ready to see what I do to you? Oh, and don't forget to check my other stories:
* Us, For You
A fresh story, full of life, adventure and cute boys.
* Starboy
A real life story that actually happened to me.
If you enjoyed this story, please check out the stories of the amazing author Arch Hunter, they are simply magnific:
* Black Fox
* Bus Boy
* Lukas, My Best Mistake
* Torry the Matchmaker
* Damien the Shy Boy
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