Turnabout 1
Two
By Chris G
Monday was the first day of Josh’s three-day suspension. So obviously I didn’t see him at school. But I certainly did see just about every one of the crowd of admirers, toadies, yes-persons and general hangers-on. They reminded me in a big hurry of my now-even-lower social standing. I was getting the looks, the murmurs, the not-so-quiet jibes, before I had got two feet inside the doors. Great, just ever-so-fucking great!
I’d spent what for once seemed like a very long weekend. After Will (I kept trying to make my head say “Willie”, but it choked every time after the first syllable) had left my house Friday, I’d taken up practically every waking hour with trying to figure out what had happened—both to me and to him. And the two of us were major puzzles.
Yeah, I was upset about the business with Josh. More than I really wanted to admit. But during the weekend think-fest I had given myself a severe reality check. I knew how I stood in this school, and it wasn’t good. I basically treated everyone the way Will had said I treated him. Truth be known, I treated everyone else a little worse than I did him. Maybe even a lot worse.
Only question was, why? The best I could come up with was that I was afraid. What of? Being gay, having people find out, that was just a part of it. There was a lot more, somewhere. It hadn’t surfaced yet. I wasn’t so sure I wanted it to.
But what about Will, who now in my head refused to be Willie any more? Where in the fuck had that come from? I’d tried figuring that out too, with even less luck than I’d had figuring myself out. The reason for this lack of success was all too obvious. I knew next to nothing about him. He had never changed in my mind beyond the initial assessment of “total geek plus three parts dork”. So the whole scene in my room Friday afternoon had been an eye- and mind-opener.
You can probably imagine the fog of thoughts sluggishly wafting around in my head Monday morning. It pretty effectively blocked anything that was going on in the classes from getting in. I barely escaped some pretty severe retaliation from a couple of teachers.
Lunchtime came. I hadn’t seen Will yet. We had only a couple of classes in common. I moved toward the cafeteria not really knowing whether I wanted to see him or not. The sum total of my state of mind was that I felt kind of raw.
A hand came down on my shoulder, and I looked around to see him standing behind me in the cafeteria lineup. “Hi, Will.” I actually stuttered a bit getting that out.
“Hey, David,” Will answered quietly. He came across as quite reserved. I mean, usually he kinda bounced around and what he said came tumbling out any old way. As I looked at him, I thought there was something really different about him. He was Will, not quite the usual Willie. But I just couldn’t come up with what it was. Hell, in my current state I couldn’t make out what two plus two was.
We moved through the line, making the usual automatic choices, and then drifted to a table. We exchanged hardly any words, and those we did weren’t of any significance. At the table, there was munching and slurping, but that was about it. If this were a talk show, we’d be in big trouble.
As I finished, I looked across at him. I hadn’t even been keeping him in focus too much while eating. I guess I wasn’t having a whole lot of luck fitting the Friday Will onto this Monday Will, and I wasn’t too sure I knew how to go about it. Frankly, I felt like taking off.
He finally said something significant. “Well, what do you think?”
Oh, God. We’re going to start talking about it. Right here in the cafeteria. Oh, shit. I can’t do this.
“Um, Will, I… I… I… about what?” Taking the lame way out, and making it sound as lame as it felt.
“You mean you haven’t noticed?” Big accent on the last word.
“No… Noticed what?”
“I think I’d better go talk to your counselor about taking you out of those advanced placement classes. I don't think you’re really up to them.” Will was grinning at me goofily.
The picture I was getting didn’t look right. I knew that much. I looked at him more directly, forgetting a little of my troubles under the influence of his big smile.
“Will, you look… kinda different.”
“Duuuhhhh…”
“OK, OK, let me think.”
“Gee, I wonder if that’s possible,” replied Will in a despairing tone. He was really having a blast with this, whatever it was all about. “Look, David. What don’t you see now that you always have seen on me?”
God, I was dense today. “Umm, no pocket protector?”
“Yeesh. I don’t always have one of those. Look, doofus, how do you think I’m seeing?”
How do I think he’s seeing? What kind of dumb question was that? Then it hit me. I was looking straight into his eyes. Nothing there—in front of them, I mean. No glasses!
“God, Will! Where’s your glasses?”
“The Lord be praised! He can be taught!” crowed Will. Several people nearby turned around and stared. “Come on,” he continued. “Let’s get out of here. Go for a walk.”
He got up and led the way out. He didn’t even trip over anything, which without glasses I knew enough to expect he would.
Once outside, we headed around the back. One of the nice things about our school is that it’s situated on a very large piece of ground. Out behind the school there’s some hills with lots of trees. Plenty of wide open space when you want to get away from people. I knew those hills well.
As we walked along, Will explained. “Yeah, I’ve been getting tired of those stupid glasses. And yeah, I knew enough to realize they were kinda geeky-looking. So I talked my folks into letting me try contacts.”
Contacts, David. Contacts. You know, those little plastic things they can make into lenses? Duh.
“So tell me what you think!”
He was like—I dunno, like a little kid who’s just managed to make something he’s really proud of and he’s come rushing to you to show it off, begging for approval and praise.
By this time we’d gone up one of the hills and had settled down on the nice dry autumn grass under a tree. Turning toward him, I gave him the attention he wanted and deserved. “Will, you’re looking really good, man.” I said it slowly and deliberately, putting all the emphasis and weight into I could muster, wanting him to know I meant it. “Like, when I saw you Fri… Friday,” I stumbled over the memory, “when you took your glasses off, your eyes looked like you needed them. Now they don’t.”
“Yeah, it’s awesome. I feel so free without those stupid things. And I can actually see better this way. I love it.”
“Great, man. I’m glad for you.”
We settled back against the tree, our shoulders just barely touching. Minutes passed.
“David?”
“Yeah?”
“I think it’s time you told me how you feel about last Friday.”
“Oh, man!” It came out, although I didn’t mean it to, and it came out with a whole heap of feeling.
“That bad, huh? Look, I’m sorry I put you through that.”
“You’re apologizing to me?”
“Shouldn’t I?”
“Hell, I’m the one who should be apologizing to you!”
“Why?”
“Why? Because you were right—you’ve been trying to be nice to me and I’ve been treating you like shit!”
“Well, not quite… I mean, I’ve never actually seen you coming at me with a shovel.”
I stared. Will had made a joke—and actually not a bad one.
“OK, David. Time for the real question. What I did, I mean… holding you the way I did… did that bother you?”
I really had to struggle to get out that one simple word. “No.” I managed to look over at him after I finally did. The look on his face told me I had to work at convincing him I meant it. Deep breath…
“Will, that was the greatest thing anyone has ever done for me. I mean it. I spent all weekend just thinking about what happened, and I just kept getting all wound up about it. But when I did, and my brain just sat there frying, I’d keep coming back to the memory of how that felt… you and me… and it made everything feel OK again. It felt really great, Will.”
His face cleared, and he actually smiled a little. “I’m glad. After I left, I felt almost sick. What I did at your place went way beyond anything I figured I was capable of doing. And then I spent the weekend wondering how you were going to react to it once you started thinking about it.”
We sat silent for long minutes, shoulders still touching, up against the trunk of the tree.
“Shit,” said Will. Obviously, I had managed to become a bad influence on him. “We gotta get back. Almost time for class.”
I groaned, but got up. “Will?”
“Yeah?”
“Wanna come by my place after school?”
His face lit up. “Cool!”
“Race you to the door!” I yelled as I took off down the hill.
We even raced each other to my place. Raced up the stairs to my room, feet pounding the living daylights out of the stair treads. It didn’t raise a reaction from anywhere in the house, so I deduced that no one was home.
Collapsing side by side on my bed, laughing hysterically about… what? I didn’t know, didn’t care—all I knew was, it felt great.
“Oh, man,” gasped Will, “I haven’t run that much in ages.”
“Me either,” I confessed. “We’re gonna turn into a couple of paunchy couch potatoes. At least,” I continued, looking over at him, “I will. I dunno about you, Mr. Skin-and-bones.”
“Now, watch it!” laughed Will. “I just think of myself as a skeleton modestly turned out with a very little, but very high-quality skin!”
We collapsed in hysterics for a bit at that one, then lay back in silence for a while.
“Whaddaya wanna do?” ventured Will after a few minutes.
“Dunno. Whadda you wanna do?”
“Dunno. What can we do? Is anyone else home?”
“Nah, mom and dad are probably off to one of their sales meetings again. They may not be back for hours.” My parents ran their own real estate company, which meant they were off at all hours making pitches, showing houses, whatever.
“Gee, so you’re home alone!”
“No; now I’ve got you!” For some reason, that sentence went on echoing in the room long after I finished the words. Will didn’t say anything for a long time, and just looked at me.
“What a difference a weekend makes!” he finally said.
I looked down at my bed, flushing a little at the memory. “Yeah,” I grunted.
“Listen, I’ve had a great time since lunch. You’re really fun to be with when you loosen up.”
“Well,” I answered, finally getting up the nerve to look at him again, “you’re kinda fun to be with too. I didn’t know you could be like this.”
“Hmm,” Will returned. “Well, I won’t say the obvious.”
“No, I still remember it from Friday.”
“David!” Will’s face suddenly wrinkled in dismay. “Gee, man, I’m sorry—I didn’t want to keep on reminding you of that.”
“No, I need to be reminded—just so I won’t forget and be like I was to you before. You don’t deserve it. I want us to be friends.” I rushed on, for some reason feeling a sense of despair, a premonition of loss. “I need us to be friends! I don’t want to lose you!”
Suddenly Will was close beside me, with his arms around me. “David, David, David—you’re not going to lose me! I’m not going to leave you—I’m not going to let you go.”
And to give weight to his words, his arms tightened around me. Mine went around him equally tight. How long we stayed like that I don’t know. But as we sat there, the embrace grew even tighter. My head moved closer to his, our cheeks brushing then pushing closer together. I slowly moved mine against his, feeling the slight stubble. Will stroked my back as he had before. I reveled in it, and in response my own hands started doing the same to him.
“Man, that feels so good,” he breathed.
“Mmmmm,” was all I could say.
More time passed. Will sighed, “I think I’m in heaven.”
I was floating, which is probably why I responded, “I know I am.”
Will very slowly pulled back, running his hands up to my shoulders, so that he was looking directly into my eyes. “David, are… are we telling each other something here?”
Which brought me back with a thump from my haze of bliss. I could feel the blood rush into my face, and I tried to pull away from Will’s hands. He held me firmly.
“I told you I wasn’t going to let you go. Look, guy, I like it… you like it. Can I tell you something?”
“Uh, sure…” I stammered, having no clue where this was going.
“I think you and I want the same thing. We each want someone to love.”
The words hung in the air between us, throbbing in their intensity. I looked up at him, to see his eyes looking not just at mine, but through them, down into the very depths of me. I couldn’t pull my gaze from his. My brain whirled, thinking of what he’d just said. Was that what I wanted? Idiot, I told myself. You don’t even have to ask the question. You know perfectly well what you want.
I tried to plumb his depths, and found it not very hard. He was so open, so honest. What I saw shining in his eyes, heard from his gently smiling mouth, felt from his warm, caressing hands was nothing if not love. Why? How?
I had to do something. I couldn’t speak. All I could manage was to raise my right hand and gently run the back of it over his cheek.
Will’s reaction was like a dam breaking under the weight of the water behind it. I found myself clutched hard in his arms and mine seemed to be trying to crack his ribs. We were down on the bed with him on top of me. My cock sprang to its limits in a mere second, and the next thing I felt was his hardness against mine. We froze, realizing we had each crossed a line, and there was no going back. We each knew what the other had felt, and it was too late. We knew, and couldn’t undo the knowing.
Will murmured, “Fuck it!” and pressed against me even harder, pushing his crotch into mine. I groaned and returned the pressure, turning my head into his neck and grazing my teeth across it. He shuddered at the feeling, and I ran my hands up his back under his shirt and ran my nails down from shoulder to waist.
His mouth opened with an animal growl. He sat up, ripped his shirt off over his head and then attacked mine. A wonder he didn’t tear it to shreds getting it off me. But I was eager to help him get rid of it. And then our naked chests were rubbing against each other and we ground our hips slowly around, feeling each other’s hardness.
I moved my hands down to his ass cheeks to pull him more firmly into me. He was surprisingly well cushioned, I noted, considering that he looked so thin to me. I squeezed his mounds through his jeans and was rewarded with a long moan of pleasure. Our cheeks had been rubbing against one another in our passion, and in my ecstasy I moved so that our lips brushed each other. No hesitation at all. Our mouths joined as though two magnets had been lined up the right way. Wide open, tongues thrusting, we entered each other’s mouths as though searching for the breath of life.
I brought my hands from Will’s ass around to his hips. We were so tight together I couldn’t get them between us. But I wanted to feel him, put my hand on that hardness pressing into me, feel the heat of his manhood. He got the message, even though his whole being seemed to be meeting mine in our mouths. He lifted just slightly and I wrestled open the jeans and dived into the boxers I found underneath.
I swear the heat almost seared my hand. The guy was on fire. The rod I found in there was hot and sticky, long, slender, hard as steel. I grabbed it, crushed it in my hand. Will pulled his head back and groaned loudly, then without warning I could feel jizz spurting from him. He sucked in his breath and groaned again as he gave a huge thrust into my hand. I looked down to see the front of me covered with his cream. A second, larger wave erupted from him and he yelped at the force of it. His eyes were teared and his mouth hung open. He hung collapsed above me.
I gently eased him onto his back and stroked the hair up off his forehead. Kissed his lips. His eyes remained shut, his face red from his exertions. I got up, pulled his pants and boxers the rest of the way off, and quickly removed my own, wiping the cum from my tummy with my shirt. Got back on the bed, snuggled up beside Will, and kissed him again, this time much more intently.
He responded, but broke it off. “What the hell happened?” he murmured.
“I think it’s called cumming,” I responded, giggling. “I’m not sure, I’ve just read about it.”
“Yeah, right!” snorted Will. “Seems to me I have evidence you know a lot more about it from a lot more direct experience! Man, I haven’t cum like that in ages!”
He suddenly became aware of my straining erection poking into his side. He reached down and grabbed it. I practically took off for the ceiling. He disengaged, saying, “Sorry!”
“No!” I practically screamed. “No, don’t let go… don’t ever let go!” I grabbed his hand and put it back where it had been. He latched on firmly.
“David…” He seemed to see and know everything about me. “… has no one ever touched you like this before?”
I blushed. “No.”
“Hey, I… I’m glad I’m the one. Really glad.” He pulled on me slowly but firmly. I started breathing hard and thrusting into his fist.
“Man, you’re hot!” he breathed.
“Will!” My voice didn’t sound like mine at all. It was warped with the intensity of my lust. “Do it to me, man. Pound it! Pound the living shit out of it. I need to cum so bad! Make me cream! Do it for me!”
He fell to work immediately, rolling over on his side and pushing me onto my back so that he had a good view of what was locked in his hand. His hand moved smoothly up and down my shaft, clutching hard but not moving too quickly. He saw the intensity of my feelings, and tried to build them even more. I groaned loudly and thrust my hips up off the bed into his downstroke. Up and down, up and down. I felt the warm hardness of his hand and needed to feel even more. “Oh, Will, harder! Faster!”
He took pity on me then, quickened his pace and tightened his grip. I was heaving into him as he assaulted me. I felt the force of my orgasm building in my nuts. I pushed my hands flat down beside my straining hips so I could push even harder. Then, with a great cry, I shot. I thought for sure I must have blown the end of my dick off. The first burst of cream shot up a good four feet in the air, and splattered back down on my chest and Will’s side. The second launched itself for about half the distance, and there were several more aftershocks which ran like lava flows over his hand.
Will gazed in wonder at the results of his handiwork, and I lay heaving with the exertion of my first sexual act with another person. Another man. Our eyes found each other, and Will leaned forward to place his mouth on mine. A gentle, gentle, kiss which went on and on and on…
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