Chicken
Bert was late for Gym. It didn't really matter as it was his last class of the day, and come on ,it's Gym. It wasn't like that was a serious class. He was ambling across the dirt path at the end of the football field toward the gymnasium when the back of his shirt was grasped and he was slammed into the stone wall of the bicycle sheds. There were hands all over him, grabbing at his shirt and his jeans, repeatedly shoving him back against the wall when he tried to escape.
Bert twisted around and he saw Jonah from the wrestling team gripping his shirt. He struggled and tried to run, heart thumping against his ribcage, tattooing a hard beat against his insides.
Jonah's voice was rough and a little giddy, as he pinned Bert easily against the wall. "...if you like cock so much, I'll show.... you love it..." Jonah was mumbling incoherently, grinding his hips into Bert. "Get off!" Bert yelped, bucking and shoving back against the immovable wall of determination. Gasping, he took as deep a breath as possible and got ready to scream.
Jonah slapped a warm, sweating hand against Bert's mouth and there was something skin-warm pressing against his cock. "Scream and I'll cut your balls off," Jonah panted and Bert's eyes rolled down to see a dull, dirty-looking blade pressed against the crotch of his shorts.
Suddenly Jonah was literally picked up and hefted away. Bert gawped as a tall, broad brunette man dropped Jonah onto the dry dirt so hard his face bounced against the ground.
Jonah looked to be unconscious and the tall man turned to Bert, his face calm but flushed as he watched Bert trying to close the top button of his shorts. Bert didn't even know when Jonah had opened it. The brunette's big, dry hands pushed Bert's out of the way and fastened his button efficiently and he stepped back.
And that was how Bert met Dan.
One day Bert was in a really tiny record shop, about seven months after the Jonah Incident. He was wandering around the store and finally ventured to the darker corner at the back. It had been calling to him ever since the first time he wandered into the store about three weeks before. The air was thick with cigarette smoke. When he reached the end of the shelves of vinyl records, he peered around it and saw a small crowd of boys in a tiny box rom. It was shrouded with bead curtains and swatches of gauzy material. There was a buzzing noise and as Bert's feet moved closer out of curiosity, his wide eyes fixed on a table. It was long and covered with a ratty blanket and there was a pillow at one end.
There was a boy lying on it with his hands above his head as a tall, sallow-skinned girl leaned over him, one hand one his lower stomach and the other holding what looked like a pen with a square top. It was what had been making the buzzing and as Bert stood in the doorway, watching, the silver tip drawled across his flesh anddown. Sensing him, or hearing his quiet breathing, the boy lying down glanced up. He looked medium build, maybe a little short and he had dreads and plenty of tattoos and piercings. His jeans were tugged down to his protruding hipbones and Bert watched in fascination and horror as the girl tattooed his dick. "Jesus," he blurted out and the guy half-nodded, half-grimaced.
And that was how Bert met Jeph.
Maybe seven days after Bert met Jeph, he introduced him to Dan. They ...'hit it off', wasn't a strong enough phrase to use. About ten minutes after he introduced them in the coffee shop and wandered outside they were making out against the wall, a discarded cigarette by Dan's foot.
"See, it's not like we're gay or anything," Jeph explained later, a little breathlessly. "It was gay chicken."
"Mhhm," Bert said dryly. "And who won?"
Jeph seemed to give this serious consideration. " I think I did." He said thoughtfully. Seeing as Dan spotted Bert first (by 'spotted', Bert actually meant he had to tug Dan bodily away from the shorter boy), and when he drew away, Jeph was still licking his cheek, Bert had to agree.
The next day when Bert thumped on the Whitesides' family house, the door was opened by Jeph. "We have an idea," he said as greeting, as Bert wondered if he had accidently came to the Howard house instead.
"Your ideas are never good," Bert reminded him, following him into the brighter, yellow kitchen. Dan was leaning against the wall, shirtless for some reason yet unknown to Bert. He was arguing with a tall, lean guy with hipbones that were visible through his blue Tshirt. His hair was brushed forward over his face and it was dyed blonde with brown ruffled hair at the
back.
He turned to Bert and watched him with big, chocolate eyes. He opened his plump, pink lips and
murmured;
"Are you fucking kidding me with the sweater vest?"
And that was how Bert met Quinn.
"This is Quinn," Jeph nodded to Bert, wandering past him and sitting on the kitchen table beside Dan.
"This is our rockstar singer?"
Bert glanced behind him. There was no one there. He looked to each side. "Who? "He queried curiously.
Three pairs of eyes fixed on him, all varied shades of brown.
The lean one stared. "He's short. And skinny. And he's wearing a fucking sweater vest.And he has short blonde hair."
"You have short blonde hair," Dan pointed out.
"Mine is dyed, which automatically makes it cooler," Quinn snapped. "His is natural blonde. Natural!" Quinn pressed as if it was a damnable offence.
"My mom won't let me dye my hair." Bert mumbled in defence.
"You're not helping yourself," Jeph sighed.
Quinn stared at him for a long, long minute. "With long hair. Black. Tight Tshirt. Skinny jeans."
"I don't wear skinny jeans," Bert interjected and Quinn stared.
"We'll see," he relented. "You'd look pretty with tattoos."
Bert frowned a little. "I don't wanna be pretty with tattoos. I don't want tattoos." He said thoughtfully and added "Or to be pretty."
"We'll see," Quinn said again. "He might work yet."
"I have a Tshirt. " Dan said loudly. Jeph patted him on
top of his head and soothed. "Yes, you do sweetie, good
boy." Dan nuzzled him and continued. "No, I mean a Tshirt. For Bert. I bought you a Tshirt." He repeated and nodded at Bert. "Hold on," he said and ambled down to his bedroom. Bert took the opportunity to eye the blonde in the corner. He was quite...well, pretty was a good word for it, Bert supposed. Bert's brows crinkled in inner confusion and he welcomed the distraction when Dan came back into the room. He held out a shirt and gestured at Bert.
"It's pink. And not like, salmon pink, it's bright pink," Bert pointed out.
Dan nodded in agreement.
Sighing at the fact that it was impossible to argue with Dan at the best of times, he just shrugged off the argyle and pulled the shirt over his head. It was tight. Very tight.
"He has a good body," Quinn mused. "Firm." He added without any apparent embarrassment. It was ok though, the light from Bert's cheeks was good enough to brighten the room. He glanced down at the Tshirt and tilted his head a little to read the lettering.
Sex, Drugs and Rock'n Roll
Bert borrowed a phrase from Quinn. "We'll see."
"You can wear your shorts with it if you want," offered Quinn, not unkindly. Then he repeated," You have a nice body," Because really, the red on Bert's cheeks was quite amusing.
"I'm a gymnast," Bert ventured. Quinn clapped his hands in what can only be described as glee. "So you're flexible?"
Bert grinned slowly. "It's kind of a requirement."
Quinn appraised him and smirk/smiled. "I have faith in him."
Bert stole Jeph's excuse the next week when Dan walked in and raised an eyebrow at Quinn's hand which was jammed somewhere down Bert's shorts.
"See, it was gay chicken," Bert said later when they had left Quinn's bedroom, using a slightly pleading voice.
"Sure it was," Dan said kindly. "Who won?"
Bert thought for a second. "I really don't know. There'll have to be a rematch."
"You're having serious difficulty disguising the glee in your voice."
"I am not. A NAKED JEPHA!" Bert shouted, pointing at the tree behind them and dashed off in the other direction when Dan nearly cracked his neck.
Bert twisted around and he saw Jonah from the wrestling team gripping his shirt. He struggled and tried to run, heart thumping against his ribcage, tattooing a hard beat against his insides.
Jonah's voice was rough and a little giddy, as he pinned Bert easily against the wall. "...if you like cock so much, I'll show.... you love it..." Jonah was mumbling incoherently, grinding his hips into Bert. "Get off!" Bert yelped, bucking and shoving back against the immovable wall of determination. Gasping, he took as deep a breath as possible and got ready to scream.
Jonah slapped a warm, sweating hand against Bert's mouth and there was something skin-warm pressing against his cock. "Scream and I'll cut your balls off," Jonah panted and Bert's eyes rolled down to see a dull, dirty-looking blade pressed against the crotch of his shorts.
Suddenly Jonah was literally picked up and hefted away. Bert gawped as a tall, broad brunette man dropped Jonah onto the dry dirt so hard his face bounced against the ground.
Jonah looked to be unconscious and the tall man turned to Bert, his face calm but flushed as he watched Bert trying to close the top button of his shorts. Bert didn't even know when Jonah had opened it. The brunette's big, dry hands pushed Bert's out of the way and fastened his button efficiently and he stepped back.
And that was how Bert met Dan.
One day Bert was in a really tiny record shop, about seven months after the Jonah Incident. He was wandering around the store and finally ventured to the darker corner at the back. It had been calling to him ever since the first time he wandered into the store about three weeks before. The air was thick with cigarette smoke. When he reached the end of the shelves of vinyl records, he peered around it and saw a small crowd of boys in a tiny box rom. It was shrouded with bead curtains and swatches of gauzy material. There was a buzzing noise and as Bert's feet moved closer out of curiosity, his wide eyes fixed on a table. It was long and covered with a ratty blanket and there was a pillow at one end.
There was a boy lying on it with his hands above his head as a tall, sallow-skinned girl leaned over him, one hand one his lower stomach and the other holding what looked like a pen with a square top. It was what had been making the buzzing and as Bert stood in the doorway, watching, the silver tip drawled across his flesh anddown. Sensing him, or hearing his quiet breathing, the boy lying down glanced up. He looked medium build, maybe a little short and he had dreads and plenty of tattoos and piercings. His jeans were tugged down to his protruding hipbones and Bert watched in fascination and horror as the girl tattooed his dick. "Jesus," he blurted out and the guy half-nodded, half-grimaced.
And that was how Bert met Jeph.
Maybe seven days after Bert met Jeph, he introduced him to Dan. They ...'hit it off', wasn't a strong enough phrase to use. About ten minutes after he introduced them in the coffee shop and wandered outside they were making out against the wall, a discarded cigarette by Dan's foot.
"See, it's not like we're gay or anything," Jeph explained later, a little breathlessly. "It was gay chicken."
"Mhhm," Bert said dryly. "And who won?"
Jeph seemed to give this serious consideration. " I think I did." He said thoughtfully. Seeing as Dan spotted Bert first (by 'spotted', Bert actually meant he had to tug Dan bodily away from the shorter boy), and when he drew away, Jeph was still licking his cheek, Bert had to agree.
The next day when Bert thumped on the Whitesides' family house, the door was opened by Jeph. "We have an idea," he said as greeting, as Bert wondered if he had accidently came to the Howard house instead.
"Your ideas are never good," Bert reminded him, following him into the brighter, yellow kitchen. Dan was leaning against the wall, shirtless for some reason yet unknown to Bert. He was arguing with a tall, lean guy with hipbones that were visible through his blue Tshirt. His hair was brushed forward over his face and it was dyed blonde with brown ruffled hair at the
back.
He turned to Bert and watched him with big, chocolate eyes. He opened his plump, pink lips and
murmured;
"Are you fucking kidding me with the sweater vest?"
And that was how Bert met Quinn.
"This is Quinn," Jeph nodded to Bert, wandering past him and sitting on the kitchen table beside Dan.
"This is our rockstar singer?"
Bert glanced behind him. There was no one there. He looked to each side. "Who? "He queried curiously.
Three pairs of eyes fixed on him, all varied shades of brown.
The lean one stared. "He's short. And skinny. And he's wearing a fucking sweater vest.And he has short blonde hair."
"You have short blonde hair," Dan pointed out.
"Mine is dyed, which automatically makes it cooler," Quinn snapped. "His is natural blonde. Natural!" Quinn pressed as if it was a damnable offence.
"My mom won't let me dye my hair." Bert mumbled in defence.
"You're not helping yourself," Jeph sighed.
Quinn stared at him for a long, long minute. "With long hair. Black. Tight Tshirt. Skinny jeans."
"I don't wear skinny jeans," Bert interjected and Quinn stared.
"We'll see," he relented. "You'd look pretty with tattoos."
Bert frowned a little. "I don't wanna be pretty with tattoos. I don't want tattoos." He said thoughtfully and added "Or to be pretty."
"We'll see," Quinn said again. "He might work yet."
"I have a Tshirt. " Dan said loudly. Jeph patted him on
top of his head and soothed. "Yes, you do sweetie, good
boy." Dan nuzzled him and continued. "No, I mean a Tshirt. For Bert. I bought you a Tshirt." He repeated and nodded at Bert. "Hold on," he said and ambled down to his bedroom. Bert took the opportunity to eye the blonde in the corner. He was quite...well, pretty was a good word for it, Bert supposed. Bert's brows crinkled in inner confusion and he welcomed the distraction when Dan came back into the room. He held out a shirt and gestured at Bert.
"It's pink. And not like, salmon pink, it's bright pink," Bert pointed out.
Dan nodded in agreement.
Sighing at the fact that it was impossible to argue with Dan at the best of times, he just shrugged off the argyle and pulled the shirt over his head. It was tight. Very tight.
"He has a good body," Quinn mused. "Firm." He added without any apparent embarrassment. It was ok though, the light from Bert's cheeks was good enough to brighten the room. He glanced down at the Tshirt and tilted his head a little to read the lettering.
Sex, Drugs and Rock'n Roll
Bert borrowed a phrase from Quinn. "We'll see."
"You can wear your shorts with it if you want," offered Quinn, not unkindly. Then he repeated," You have a nice body," Because really, the red on Bert's cheeks was quite amusing.
"I'm a gymnast," Bert ventured. Quinn clapped his hands in what can only be described as glee. "So you're flexible?"
Bert grinned slowly. "It's kind of a requirement."
Quinn appraised him and smirk/smiled. "I have faith in him."
Bert stole Jeph's excuse the next week when Dan walked in and raised an eyebrow at Quinn's hand which was jammed somewhere down Bert's shorts.
"See, it was gay chicken," Bert said later when they had left Quinn's bedroom, using a slightly pleading voice.
"Sure it was," Dan said kindly. "Who won?"
Bert thought for a second. "I really don't know. There'll have to be a rematch."
"You're having serious difficulty disguising the glee in your voice."
"I am not. A NAKED JEPHA!" Bert shouted, pointing at the tree behind them and dashed off in the other direction when Dan nearly cracked his neck.
