Young Volcanoes Chapter 5
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Young Volcanoes
~ by Billy Wright ~**
Welcome back, do you have your popcorn and lube in hand? Well, run, go get them, you are in for some explicit sexual scenes between boys, so be warned. Any and all thoughs are welcome:
billy.alexander.wright@gmail.com
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Chapter 5
A Promise, in a Way
"Nevermind. Get to your massive fuck up already."
I throw a big, stern look at you.
"Now, let me guess..." You come an inch closer to me. "Since you stayed at Buch's place I'm guessing you didn't sleep on the couch," I scoff, looking away, unable to believe what I'm hearing. "I'll take that as a yes. So that means that you slept in the same bed."
"We did."
"Should I get ready for a hot scene?"
"You should," I wink at you.
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I wasn't in love with Buch and he wasn't in love with me... anymore. But he was sweet and kind, attentive and so much fun to hang out with. Plus, I was 15. Everything made me horny and, as all men know, when your dick starts thinking for you... anything can happen.
The pizza had been eaten and the beers had been drunk. I was staying over, and all that chatter had relaxed us. What can I say? I really liked being with Buch. We kept talking way past midnight. After a few hours, however, my eyes were shutting down.
"What?" He asked me, staring at his phone. "Don't tell me you are getting tired."
"It's two in the morning, we have school tomorrow."
"So?" He was texting, his eyes deep on the screen.
"So I need to sleep." I waited for a second but he didn't reply. "Who in the world are you texting at two in the morning?"
Buch lifted his phone and showed me not one but several conversations he was having. There were lots of guys, some our age, most of them older, some I recognized from school, most of them strangers. He really had a line of boys waiting to date him.
"Are you flirting right now?" I asked him.
"Flirting time never ends, Johnny."
"As long as none of them come while I'm here," I turned towards the door, imagining a stranger coming in and how awkward that would be.
"A few have asked," Buch was proud but as soon as he saw my face he put his phone down. "But no. None of them are coming. Today I'm with you, only you."
I don't like to admit it but his words made me feel special, somehow. He had a way with words. I tried not to show it, stood up, thanked him exaggeratedly, and walked out of the room before letting myself fall on the living room couch. It wasn't a great couch, okay enough for sitting but terrible for sleeping. I could feel the metal bars poking me through the fabric.
"What are you doing there?" Buch's voice came from his room.
"Sleeping," I replied, my eyes already closed.
"You are crazy, sister. That thing is not for sleeping."
"Better than the floor." I opened one eye. "Or what, you want me to sleep with you?"
I was expecting some kind of joke or protest or something but I heard nothing. Buch was always making jokes and this was the perfect opportunity to make one. Yet, silence. I sat up and looked at him.
Buch had an innocent expression on his face. "Well, why not?"
I opened my mouth to protest. I was pretty good at debating, and I would've done it but it was two in the morning and I had a stomach full of pizza and a brain full of beer. Besides, I really was tired. So I just said: "Screw it," stood up, and walked back into the bedroom.
I got to the right side of the bed, Buch took the left one. That was the first time I was sleeping there with him.
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"You were best friends but hadn't had a sleepover before?" You ask me, reflecting suspiciously about my words. "When I was in high school I had sleepovers with my friends almost every weekend."
I push you on your shoulder. "High school then and high school now are completely different things. We have the Internet and phones and video calls. I'm no expert..."
"Evidently."
I push you on your shoulder again, harder this time and we both laugh.
"What I was going to say is that my mom says that she used to have sleepovers every other weekend, too. I'm no expert but, from my experience, that is no longer the case. Neither I nor anyone else in my high school class had many sleepovers. Maybe it has to do with the fact that with phones we can talk until 3 am if we want to, or that Netflix lets us watch the same movies. All that without going to someone else's house."
"Your teenage years sound so very..." you take a second. "Boring."
"Boring? Really?"
"In some ways," you add. "Yes, boring. But awesome in others."
I don't know how to feel about that. I'm not sure what time it is but we've already been talking for over an hour, that's for sure, maybe two.
"Anyway," I continue, "Captain, Buch, and I had already had sleepovers. We weren't new to that, but that was the first time Buch and I were having one by ourselves."
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"I told you I think you are sweet," Buch said after finishing his sixth slice of pizza. "But you haven't told me what you think of me."
"Do you have something to wear to bed I can borrow?" I asked him, letting myself fall on his bed. I bounced a little, it was a good bed.
"I have laundry to do but I'm sure there's something." Buch moved from the bed towards one of his dressers. He barely spent any time looking before lifting his head and looking in my direction. "Unless..."
"Unless?" I repeat, defiant.
"Well," Buch sat on the corner of the bed. He didn't speak until we made eye contact, and when he did, he asked: "What do you usually wear to sleep at home?"
I could sense where that conversation was heading. "I wear what every other guy wears."
"Nothing?" Buch inquired.
"Well, no, not nothing. I don't like it," I replied honestly. "Things get too... loose. I sleep in my boxers."
"Me too," Buch added. For a moment, he didn't move. We stayed there, awkwardly looking at the other. Buch was the fearless one; the shameless one so, of course, he stood up and, trying to look as innocent as possible, he asked: "If you want, you can sleep like that."
"Oh, you would like that, wouldn't you?" I answered rapidly.
Buch moved around the bed, closer to me. "I'm not into you, Johnny, okay? But I'm not going to lie. If you are gay and sleep in the same bed as me... well, there's a chance that certain things might happen."
My brain started firing up several responses to that. I wasn't romantically interested in Buch, yet there I was, about to share a bed with him. I could've stood up and gone back to the couch. I know I could've. But he was sweet, and kind, and I'd had a couple of beers... well, the rest goes without saying.
I stayed quiet. Rolling my eyes, I stood up and bent over, slowly undoing the laces of my shoes. Patiently, I took them off, then my socks. Barefoot, I glanced at Buch, sitting on the bed. We had a couple of beers but we weren't drunk. He was making no effort to hide the fact that he was looking at me.
Calmly, I started unbuttoning my jeans. The metal circle came off with a soft pop. Then, my hands went to my zipper, taking a hold of it with my middle finger and thumb, slowly sliding it down. Then, I let go and, immediately, my jeans fell to the floor.
I stood like that for a moment, a deer in the headlights, before stepping out of them. I was taking my sweet time before getting on the bed and starting to undo the sheets.
"What about your shirt?" He asked shamelessly.
"It's okay," I replied, trying to shrug it off. "I can sleep like this."
"Are you sure about that?"
Sliding over the covers, Buch moved across the bed, all the way to my side and, while staring at me in the eyes, he drew a wide, naughty smile on his face. Maybe it was a reflex or maybe it was the devil on my shoulder taking over, but I smiled back. He lowered his hands, took hold of my shirt and started to pull it. I felt the fabric sliding over my skin, first over my stomach, then over my chest and finally over my face and arms. Suddenly, there was nothing between the air and my skin save from my boxers. Buch looked pleased with himself.
"You have no shame," I complained.
Of course, he took it as a compliment.
Buch walked to the other side of the bed and started to take off his clothes too. I had seen Captain shirtless before, once, but I had never seen Buch. I was surprised to notice he barely had any hair on his legs. Well, that was a lie, he did have hair only that it was almost blond, so much so that it was practically invisible.
In my head that didn't make sense. He had red hair. How then was the hair on his legs almost blonde? I had no time to think about it because he pulled his shirt over his head. For some reason, I wasn't expecting him to have chest hair, especially since I didn't have any. There, among the red, there was something silver, metallic.
I tried to be discreet. From his neck hung a thin chain with a silver ring on it. Inside it, there was a symbol, it was the skyline of a big city and, above it, there was the shape of a heart, barely visible. It was beautiful and it looked quite expensive.
"You like it?" He asked, noticing my eyes on it. "I always wear it, I love it. This is the skyline of New York City. I've always wanted to live there - the emotion, the people, the lights..."
"I remember you telling us that once," I mentioned. It had been one of the first nights Buch, Captain and I went out as friends and we told each other all kinds of personal stuff. Buch closed that night sharing us his dream. I remembered thinking Buch, due to his personality, totally made sense in a big place like New York City.
"Yeah, you are the only ones I ever told that dream to. Well, aside from my family. Actually, see this?" He pointed to the thin silver heart over the mountain. "At first I thought this was the shape of a heart."
"It isn't?" I asked, suddenly confused. If that wasn't a heart, what was it?
"No, it isn't a heart," Buch replied. "But at first I thought it was. See, I didn't buy this necklace, it was a gift. And, well, since I thought this was a heart and you were the only ones I told this story to, at first I thought it was from... well, from you, Johnny."
I give him a puzzled look. "From me? I didn't..."
"I know," Buch cut me. "I know. Do you remember the first time when we gave each other chocolates on Valentine's? Well, the day after that I found this necklace on my doorstep along with some flowers."
"Really?" That sounded weird.
"Yeah, that's when I had my thing for you so of course, I thought you had gifted it to me. But a few days before my mother had sent me some money and that night she called for the first time since I left, and... it felt nice, you know? I didn't know how much I missed it. We talked for several hours. That's when she told me that she loved me, that she didn't mind that I was into boys, and that she forgave me for leaving home so young."
I listened to him quietly. Buch rarely talked about his family. Out of all subjects, that's the only one he kept off-limits. The fact that he was willing to share all that with me was special. I put my hand on his shoulder, comforting him, not forcing him to share anything he wasn't comfortable sharing.
"So, even though she never admitted it, I joined the dots and realized she had given me this," Buch held the necklace in his fist. "And this is not a heart, it's the letter B... my last name, Buchannan. I am not entirely sure but I think it is supposed to be a way of showing I am still part of the family."
"Buch," I squeezed his shoulder with affection. "That's beautiful." Honestly, I wasn't sure that story was what Buch's mother intended, it seemed like a stretch and that thing barely looked like a B, however, I wasn't about to question him on something that personal.
We both moved to different sides of the bed and started undoing the sheets. I wasn't a fan of his blankets but I must say his mattress was wonderful.
"Johnny," Buch looked me in the eyes. "Nice body,"
"Shut up," I rolled my eyes. "I thought we were having a bonding moment," I tried to move so he couldn't look at me but then thought of something better. I looked directly at him, checking out his body like he was doing mine. "You too."
That made him smile. Not every day he faced someone who was as cheeky as he was.
Once on the bed, we got comfortable under the sheets. His apartment wasn't especially warm so I appreciated the coziness of the bed. I curled up looking at him. I closed my eyes but I still couldn't sleep.
"Care to turn off the light?" I asked.
Buch leaned out of bed and flipped the switch. As soon as the darkness flooded the room, I felt the tiredness starting to invade my body. Buch got back to bed but instead of keeping to his side, he moved next to me.
"I would tell you to move but it is rather cold in here," I wasn't sure if it was the beer or the fact that we had revealed so many truths that day but I was comfortable with how close he was to me. Besides, it was true, he was huggable.
Of course, I should've seen it coming.
Not a minute passed when I felt his fingers dancing on my back. Little circles, one after the other, caressing my skin. As much as I would've liked to say otherwise, it did feel nice, relaxing even. That's when I felt his other hand on my chest, moving through my abdomen and torso. It was a harmless game until his hand reached one of my nipples and started playing with it. I moaned, unable to control myself.
I had my eyes closed but I knew he was smiling. That only encouraged him. He kept his finger there, drawing circles around it, teasing me. That was one of my weaknesses, touching me there only made me hornier. Buch was beaming with mischief.
Slowly but surely, his hands started going lower and lower down my body. He reached my belly button, still caressing my skin until he finally got to my underwear. He didn't go for my boyhood, though. He lowered my boxer-briefs and started running his fingers through the hair I had down there. My respiration got heavier and heavier.
"Buch," I said, stopping him. "I... I don't want to... until..."
"Until you find someone special," Buch completed. "I know. But didn't you already had sex with Armando?"
I looked away. "I said I had only had oral."
"Well, in that case..." He leaned closer to me, his lips next to my ear. "Don't worry. We won't do anything oral, or anal, or anything with sex in its name, okay? Just... a friend lending you a hand. No sex, technically."
His other hand started to pay attention to the front too, feeling me above the soft fabric of my underwear. He was teasing me with soft, gentle movements. He kept doing it until he paused for a second. All that movement, that softness, it all suddenly stopped.
I was about to open my eyes when I felt him grab my entire boyhood in his fist, holding it firmly. He squeezed it, making me moan out loud. He then started to move his thumb in circles over the head of my dick, letting the precum go out. Say whatever you want about Buch, he knew how to use his hands.
I wasn't going to leave it at that. "He's right," a part of me said. "Armando and I already did more. This doesn't count as sex."
I reached with my hand and looked inside his boxer-briefs, finding his treasure. It felt warm in my hand and was moving slightly. It was alive, a wild beast pulsating, waiting to be released. I just couldn't wait to devour it.
I started jerking it, stroking it a little. I had never done that to anyone who wasn't me. Yet, Buch's breathing was getting heavier and heavier. I kept at it, passing my fingers through his balls and sides, teasing him.
He started to stroke me too, the rhythm of his movements, the pace, the amount of force, he knew what he was doing, making me moan. His other hand was on my chest, caressing my weak point. Soft, then hard, then soft again.
I wasn't facing him so I never saw his expression. However, I could he bit his lips, containing the ecstasy as best as he could. The moans he was barely able to contain made me stroke him faster and faster. But my favorites were the ones he couldn't hold back. The way his mouth opened and the way he let them out, it drove me crazy.
"Johnny..."
I felt him move his hips, his boyhood twitching in my hand and I knew he was coming. I was tempted to stop and edge him a little longer but I instead decided to move my hand faster and faster. He did the same to me and I felt that all familiar sensation too.
He came first, I was still going fast and I felt him spread it all over the inside of his boxers, some of it falling on my hand, some on his dick. Buch was panting, out of breath... and I would've bet anything: he was smiling.
I took out my hand, still stained but before I could do anything, I felt Buch taking hold of my boyhood and resuming his stroke. He went faster and faster, I was nearly there. He must have felt it too because his other hand took the blanket off me and then lowered my boxers, uncovering me.
That took me by surprise but he didn't stop and soon, I wasn't able to hold it any longer. Without the blanket or my underwear to contain it, I came in the air, shooting a mini geyser into the night, letting it all fall over my stomach and chest.
It took me several seconds to breathe again. When I finally opened my eyes and saw Buch looking at me, there was a wide grin on his face. He had seen the whole show. From the initial shiver all up until the volcano in me, exploding in the night, flying through the air, decorating his stomach and chest with a pearly white.
I stood up, took a towel from the bathroom, and cleaned myself up. Then passed it to Buch. After the orgasm, the excitement quickly vanished and the tiredness reclaimed my body. On the bed, I turned my back on him, trying to tell him that the activities were over. However, Buch pressed his chest against my back and put his hand on the front of my underwear, holding me.
"Are you sure you are a bottom?" I asked him.
"Are you sure you are a top?" He replied in return.
"Shut up," I closed my eyes and, a few minutes later, I was completely asleep.
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"Morning, sleepyhead."
I heard the alarm go off, the movement on the bed as Buch stood up. I tried to move too but my body protested, wanting to sleep some more.
"Morning," I managed to say.
Buch chuckled when he saw my sleepy face. I've never looked cool in the mornings, not like in the movies. I was a mess. I stretched one hand, reaching my phone. Instinctively, I opened my texts. Armando still hadn't replied to my threats and curses. Damn, I thought. I really did that?
For some reason, his name didn't leave my mind. He had taken money to date me, to play with my feelings. I was surprised, more than anyone, when I woke up and discovered that I wasn't as angry as I thought I was the day before. I'm crazy, I thought, remembering how amazing my first date with Armando had been. Maybe I could forgive him. Maybe he wasn't mad at me either. But, then again, I had sent him a text full of threats and curses the day before. Shit. I was about to apologize when...
"Here, come," Buch reached out and took me by the hands, pulling me up until I was sitting on the bed. I thought that was what he wanted but then he pulled me again. I stood up, it was inertia, not me wanting to do it. When I was up, I noticed I was in my underwear. Oh, I thought. That really happened.
Buch kept holding my hand, guiding me towards the bathroom. He was almost naked, too. Inside, he opened the shower and passed me a towel.
I was about to step in when I shook my head, suddenly waking up. "Wait," I told him. "You want me to shower with you?"
Buch gave a look saying "really?" But when I didn't follow him he took a step towards me. "You slept with my hand on your crotch. This is less intense, Johnny."
"We did what?" Then it all came back to me. We had jerked off together. I lifted my hands to my face, cursing myself. I'd only had two beers but I wasn't used to drinking alcohol and all the horniness, the tension... "Buch, I shouldn't have done that. We are just friends and..."
"Don't worry, it was just a hand job. It doesn't count as sex."
God, I regretted it all. Yet, one part of me knew I had enjoyed it.
"I know it doesn't technically count, but... we can't take long. School, remember?" I said, trying to look for an excuse. "Besides... I was about to send a text to Armando."
That took him off guard. "Armando? Why?"
"Why? Well... I don't know. I want to talk to him," I replied sincerely. "I don't like the way things ended between us."
"But why does that matter?" Buch's voice got serious, concerned. "It's not like you are going to see him again. And that's a shame. Morgan really wanted you to take him to the Halloween Party for some reason."
My face must've given my intentions away because Buch gave me one of those concerned, all-knowing looks of his. "What?" I asked.
"Are you planning on seeing him again?" He asked, half serious, half surprised.
"Well... we did have a pretty amazing first date," I joked but he didn't laugh and my smile faded when I saw how serious he got. "I like him, Buch. I really do. He is... something, you know? I've never felt that before."
"But we paid him! He didn't even want to date you in the first place!"
"Ouch, okay, thank you for sharing that painful information but... he and I kind of had sex, he was my first! Remember, for me the first time is special."
"Okay, first of all a blow job counting as full on sex or even as a first time is debatable," Buch mentioned. "And second of all, going after him just because he is your fist is a terrible reason for wanting to be with someone."
"I'm not saying I want to be with him just because we had sex," I corrected. "I'm just saying he is special and me doing it for the first time with him is one of the ways it shows. He is also funny, I enjoy his company and..."
"Johnny..."
"I'm not saying he is my soulmate!" I cut him off. "I'm just saying I liked him a lot, and things between us got cut short. I just want a chance to get to know him better. The right way this time."
Buch looked at me for a second. Finally, he sighed. "Johnny, you can't do that."
"Why?"
"I..." Buch bit his lip, thinking. In the end, he shook his head. "I can't tell you."
"You can't tell me?"
"I can't," Buch assured me. "But please, believe me. It isn't a good idea. Armando was supposed to date you for a while, then disappear. That was the plan."
"Well, maybe I don't care about the plan. Maybe I like him."
"Johnny, listen to me," Buch grabbed me by the shoulders. "It is a bad idea."
I took a step back, away from him. "How would I know if you don't tell me why?"
Buch opened his mouth to protest but had nothing to say. In his face I could see he knew I was right. Yet, he refused to tell me. Whatever the reason was, it was something big. "Trust me. Let's go take a shower."
"Tell you what," I said, my mind cooking a little trap, a little trick: "I'll take a shower with you if you tell me why I shouldn't see Armando," Buch wasn't in love with me -at least not anymore- but he loved his one-night stands. This was the perfect bait, the perfect trap.
Book turned towards me. Behind his eyes, I could see the gears turning, his mind considering the bargain. I was sure I had him when, at the last minute, he dodged my trap.
"I can't tell you, Johnny, sorry. In a way, you could say, I promised Morgan I wouldn't tell you."
"Captain...?" I asked, shocked. "He told you I can't date Armando? But he was the one who had the idea of hiring someone to fuck me in the first place!"
"Johnny, please. Even if you like Armando, don't go looking for him, okay?"
"Buch, I can't..."
"Promise me, Johnny."
"I don't promise anything," I said. "And yes. I am sure about that."
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"So you didn't shower with him?" You ask me, intrigued.
The night is still in its full splendor. A while ago you stopped pretending that you didn't care about the story and you are fully invested now. I can see it.
"I didn't," I confess. "We showered separately. He lent me some clothes -yes, they were a little baggy- and we both went to school."
"So he never told you why you couldn't date Armando?"
I shook my head. "He didn't," I take another sip from the glass in my hand. "Only that he had, in a way, promised Captain something. And that something suggested it was a bad idea for me to talk to Armando."
"Weird," you say, meditating on it a little. "And you never asked where Buch and Morgan found Armando? At first I thought he was a friend they had in common but now I'm picturing them looking for horny poor guys on the internet."
"Ha-ha, very funny," I give you a stern look. "I did ask that, although I don't remember when exactly. They said it was an old friend and that they had chosen him because they thought I was going to find him attractive."
"Well, they weren't wrong about that."
"No," I concede. "But that wasn't the only thing Armando had going for him. He was funny, shared my humor, knew how to listen, I felt I could be myself around him, and really enjoyed talking to him. That's why I insisted on going after him so much. I wasn't letting him go."
"I know," you say, gulping down your drink. "Even though your friend specifically asked you not to do that."
I stare blankly at you. "Buch and Captain paid him to date me! That was a horrible thing to do. And I found out about it because of Armando, not them. Now... wasn't it fair that I got to do something bad to them too, right?"
You turn towards the horizon in the distance, thinking. "One bad action doesn't justify another," you reply seriously.
"Well, perhaps I would've listened to Buch if he hadn't kept his motives a secret..."
"Sometimes secrets are needed," you reply a little too fast.
The flames creak in front of us. They are nearly gone, and still, they burn with radiant heat inside them. As hot and shining as the night was cold and dark.
"You have secrets?" I ask you. Your face turns severe, expressionless.
"No," you reply but the hesitation makes you sound unconvincing.
I stand up and approach the pile of logs next to the fire. I take a few and start feeding them to the flames. It takes time but they slowly pick up. Impatient, I throw the content of my glass to the fire, making it roar. You don't protest but I can see you don't like it. It takes me a second before I'm able to look at you again.
"I know you dated my mom," I tell you all of a sudden. Yeah, it is out of nowhere but I've always suspected it, from the very beginning. I just never said it.
Your expression doesn't change. After a while, you raise your glass and drink it until it's dry. Did I just open an old wound?
"That's what you think happened?" Your tone is mocking me, challenging me. I don't respond. You smile a little. "I never dated your mom, Johnny. I swear it. And it's only natural that you suspect as much. After all, she and I were very close friends. But that's not what happened."
I wait and wait but you don't say anything else.
"What happened between you and my mom?" I finally ask. The million-dollar question. It feels so weird to finally hear my voice saying those words. However, you are not taken aback by them.
"This has nothing to do with that. I'm not talking about how your mom and I got into that big fight. I'm talking about how we got to know each other."
I roll my eyes. "You were a friend of my dad."
"Oh, Johnny," your voice is so condescending, so infuriating. Yet, you are speaking the words I had waited years to hear.
"Oh, Johnny, what?" I repeat, impatient.
You look straight into my eyes, half a smile, half a lament appears on your lips. "Your mother never had feelings for me and I never had feelings for her because when she met me I was dating your dad."
My arms, crossed in front of my chest, fall to my sides. For several moments, all I can hear are the flames in the middle of your terrace. Glowing, orange embers, dancing, reflecting long dark shadows, dancing too.
I blink. "What?"
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Sometimes, it is hard to picture our parents being anything other than our parents. They had lives before us. They had relationships, sex, hook-ups, adventures... how many of you know those secrets? If you want to chat, you know where to find me:
billy.alexander.wright@gmail.com
Oh, and don't forget to check my other stories:
* Us, For You
* Starboy
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