by Drew Hunt
“Um, thought I’d come and pick you up,” Parker said out of his open window.
“Uh, yeah. Thanks.” Not sure where he got the courage to say what he did next, Mason opened Parker’s door and said, “Come on in and meet the folks.”
Parker’s small smile vanished instantly. “Uh, I.”
“Do you trust me?” Mason had no idea why he’d asked that.
Parker didn’t reply.
“If you don’t get it over with now, it’ll eat away at you. All the while you’ll be wondering what they’re like, if they’ll say anything that would let the cat out of the bag. But if you come in now and see what they’re like, you’ll feel a lot better.”
Mason watched attentively as Parker sat unmoving for at least a minute, several expressions passing over his beautiful face. Then he seemed to reach some kind of decision. “You’re right.”
Getting out of the cab, Parker slammed the door and together they walked up the driveway. Just before going inside, Mason sneaked a peek at Parker’s face, which was showing an increased level of concern.
“Relax, dude.”
* * * *
“Oh, man! Parker said pulling up in the student parking lot. “Thanks for dragging me inside your place.”
Mason smiled. As he’d known would happen, his parents had made a real fuss of Parker. As Parker talked and even made jokes with Mason’s dad during the short visit, the worry lines on Parker’s face disappeared.
“Go on, I give you permission to say it.”
“What?” Mason asked, looking at Parker.
“That you were right and you told me so.”
Mason laughed. “I knew they’d fall for your charms.” Just like I did.
“Your parents are great. You’re lucky, real lucky.” A shadow fell across Parker’s face, but Mason didn’t think he ought to intrude.
The two remained quiet for a few moments, until Parker said, “Come on, otherwise we’ll be late.”
Mason had forgotten all about school. As they jogged across the parking lot, Mason wondered again why Parker had picked him up, it was so…romantic.
* * * *
Mason stared out of the window. His mind had long since stopped paying attention to the teacher, who was droning on about a calculus problem that Mason had solved minutes earlier. The weather had decided that it was about time it reminded people that it was the fall and this was the Pacific North West. In short, it was raining like a cow pissing on a flat rock. Mason knew he would have to abandon his usual practice of eating his lunch outdoors. He’d have to brave the offerings that the school lunch room provided.
Mason had just loaded his tray and was making his way over to the table traditionally occupied by the soccer team, when a voice at the next table called out to him. Looking up he saw it was Parker.
“Over here, bud.”
Mason shrugged, inwardly flattered at the public recognition of his and Parker’s friendship.
“Thought you normally had sandwiches,” Parker said once Mason had sat down.
Mason explained his reasons for changing his routine while nodding at the other members of the football team to whom Parker re-introduced him.
“God, you should have seen Mason here wiping the fucking floor with Eastside during Saturday’s soccer game,” Parker said, slapping Mason on the back.
Mason hadn’t even known Parker had been there. Parker saw Mason’s look of confusion and mouthed, “Later.”
Mason shrugged and came out with something about how weak the opposition had been.
“Yeah, we always kick their asses at football,” a heavy-set black-haired guy said. Mason couldn’t remember his name.
“They’re a bunch of fags,” someone else said, causing Mason to wince inwardly.
Once he’d finished eating, Mason hung around for a while as Parker seemed in no hurry to leave. Eventually Parker picked up that Mason had finished, and concluded the conversations he’d been having. He stood up, told the guys he’d catch them later, and walked out of the lunch room with Mason.
“Sorry ‘bout that, bud.”
“It’s okay.” Mason shrugged.
“We always have a big discussion on Monday lunchtime about the game.”
“The guys still seemed pumped over the win. A win which you made possible.”
Parker smiled broadly, causing Mason’s chest to tighten.
“Look, uh, about your soccer game. I went to see you, but, uh, I was still sorting out stuff in my head about you, about us. So I didn’t let you see that I was there, I…”
“It’s okay, I understand. I guess you’ve figured it out then? I mean, you coming to pick me up this morning and everything.”
“Yeah.” Parker looked about him, at the students milling passed. “Look, uh, we can’t talk here. Can you meet after practice?”
“Okay. But ‘cause you brought me this morning, I’ll have to stick around anyway ‘cause I don’t have any other way of getting home.”
“Oh, yeah.” That smile was back again, but was slightly more cautious. Mason found it just as irresistible.
Parker squeezed Mason’s shoulder before loping away, Mason’s eyes as usual fixed on Parker’s deliciously firm ass mounds. Readjusting himself, mentally as well as physically, Mason set out to face the rest of the school day.
* * * *
Thinking the coach would never blow his whistle to end practice, Mason stood, hands on knees in goal. The regular goalie was injured, so Mason had been drafted in his place. “And wouldn’t you know it, they decided to practice kicking penalties,” Mason muttered.
As had happened during the rest of the afternoon, Mason received a couple of rebukes for inattention. Things had gotten so bad in biology during the last hour of classes, Mason thought he was going to be given detention. Normally mammalian respiration would have held his interest, but there were more important things to occupy his thoughts.
Finally, mercifully, the coach blew his whistle, and Mason’s agony was over. He ran off the soccer field, across the running track and into the locker-room.
After having a quick shower and dressing in his street clothes, Mason made for the parking lot, only to discover Parker was nowhere to be seen. Of course he’s not here, dumbass, he’s probably still at practice. Mason didn’t know if football practices usually took longer than those for soccer. He couldn’t help being bummed out that Parker wasn’t waiting for him.
After ten minutes had passed, Mason was starting to get worried. Had Parker forgotten, had he left him standing there deliberately? Was all that had happened—earlier that day, the ride to school, the lunch room, and the events of Friday—just been a dream?
“Hi bud, sorry to have kept ya,” a voice said from behind him.
Mason spun round and was immediately captured by a pair of soft grey eyes. “Oh, that’s okay, I just arrived myself.” Mason was relieved, aroused, happy.
Parker raised an eyebrow. “Liar.”
Mason felt his face heat up.
“Coach wanted a word with me after practice, and…” The shy side of Parker seemed to be coming to the fore. Up until Friday night when his mom had poked her head around the French doors, Mason hadn’t known there was a vulnerable side to the star jock. He couldn’t help but fall even more in love with Parker because of it.
“No problem. Uh, you said you wanted to talk.”
“Yeah.” Parker unlocked the door to his truck and was about to climb in when one of the cheerleaders approached and began to hang all over him.
Mason looked on as the girl, whose big boobs were threatening to spill out of her uniform top, pawed at Parker, making Mason want to barf.
“I missed you at the party Friday night,” she said, trying to sound sexy. The voice had the opposite effect on Mason.
“Uh, hi, Hannah. I hurt my ass, so I decided to just go home and crash.”
Her hand moved to Parker’s right ass cheek and began to rub it. “You should have told me, Parky, I’d have made it all bett
er for you”
“Uh,” Parker groaned. “Look, um, later, okay? I gotta be somewhere.”
“Sure thing, hot stuff.” Hannah removed her hand, gave Parker a quick kiss on the lips and sashayed away.
Once inside the cab, Mason did his best to put a neutral expression on his face, but judging by the look Parker gave him, he failed miserably.
“Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Couldn’t agree more, Mason thought. His previous good mood was all but shattered. Would he and Parker ever have anything approaching a normal relationship? Or would Mason always have to watch scenes like that, with Parker playing the role of a straight, red-blooded male?
* * * *
“You’re quiet,” Parker said, pulling into traffic, heading, Mason assumed, back to his house.
“Yeah.”
The two drove in silence for a while before Parker said, “It didn’t mean anything you know. That girl, Hannah.”
Mason didn’t respond; he didn’t know what to say. In the back of his mind he’d always known Parker was a player. He shouldn’t have built a fantasy of the pair of them living some kind of gay version of “The Little House on the Prairie.”
“Looks like your folks are home.”
“Huh?” It was way too early for his parents to be home. Looking in the same direction Parker was, Mason understood. “No, that’s my car. The garage must have brought it back.”
The pair got out of Parker’s truck and approached the highly polished bright red Chevrolet Beretta GT in the driveway.
“Cool,” Parker said.
Mason didn’t know if Parker was teasing him. The Beretta wasn’t exactly the type of muscle car the average American teen dreamed of owning. His mom had put her foot down and squelched any thoughts Mason had had of driving a sports car. The Beretta had been something of a compromise.
“Um, it’s not exactly a…But, you know.” Mason shrugged, still not knowing what Parker thought.
“It’s cool,” Parker said, staring at the vehicle. “Why haven’t I seen it before?”
“It’s new, but there was a problem with the transmission, so dad took it back to the dealership. They must have brought it back sometime today.”
Parker continued to look at the vehicle.
“Uh, wanna go for a test drive?” Mason asked, not knowing what else to say. “I’ve got a spare set of keys in my room.”
“Uh, um, sure.”
“Right.” Mason turned away and headed toward his front door, a growing sense of unease crowding his thoughts.
As Mason made his way along the hall, he wondered yet again what he was doing hanging around Parker Collins. It had to be Parker’s magnetic personality. Mason just felt drawn to him, and couldn’t escape. Did he want to escape?
After scooping up his car keys, Mason caught his reflection in the mirror on his closet door. His brown hair looked tangled, out of control. Mason picked up a comb and tried in vain to deal with his errant locks. He mused at how perfect Parker’s hair always was. “God, all he’s got to do is run his fingers through that sexy center part and it just falls in place.”
Suddenly the vision of that center part appeared in the mirror. Mason spun round. Parker’s face wore a satisfied smirk. “So you think my hair’s sexy?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Mason open and closed his mouth, but no words came out. He just wanted the floor to swallow him up.
Parker’s smirk slowly faded and was replaced by concern. “It’s okay, bud.” He gripped Mason’s biceps. “Dude, look at me.”
Mason slowly raised his head. “I’m sorry.”
Parker leaned in and kissed Mason on the lips. It wasn’t passionate or deep, just reassuring. “For what it’s worth I think your hair’s kinda sexy, too, how it always seems to misbehave and…” Parker moved his right hand up and ran his fingers through Mason’s hair. Mason had to stifle a groan—it felt amazing to be petted like that.
“Go on. You can touch my hair too, if you like,” Parker whispered.
With trembling fingers, Mason reached up and touched the part, widening it slightly. He drew his fingertips downward, feeling the soft blond strands. “It’s so soft,” Mason whispered.
“Yeah, I get that from my mom.”
The two then fell silent. Mason didn’t know what to say. He just stared into Parker’s grey eyes.
Parker shifted, no doubt growing uncomfortable at being stared at so intensely. “Uh, man you’re lucky. This room’s massive,” Parker said, flicking his gaze across Mason’s space.
“Yeah.”
“Shit, man, you got a computer.”
“Uh huh. Mason spent a lot of time on the machine. He wanted to tell Parker all about it, how he had a modem and could call up various bulletin boards and newsgroups, but sensed that would be way too geeky.
“And you’ve got a queen sized bed, oh, man. All this and a brand new car, too.” Parker seemed sad.
Something clicked in Mason’s head. Parker hadn’t been dismissive of his choice of vehicle, he’d been envious. Not necessarily at the model, but at it being new.
“They’re just things, possessions.”
“Suppose.” Parker walked over to Mason’s bed and lay down. If Mason had been thinking more clearly, he’d have marveled at having Parker Collins, the subject of many a nocturnal masturbation fantasy, lying there on his bed. But Mason’s in-built need to make everything okay was foremost in his mind.
“But you have so much, too. At school you’re the big jock, the one everyone looks up to. People admire you, want to be near you, even touch you. Hannah, for example.
“I know. But it’s not easy keeping up the straight jock-boy image all the time.”
Mason felt compelled to go over and offer Parker comfort. This was something he thought he’d never see. He’d always imagined Parker had it all, fame, good looks, a brain. Never did he think the great Parker Collins would have a vulnerable side.
“I guess that wasn’t an easy admission to make,” Mason said, sitting on the side of his bed and looking down at the star athlete.
Parker let out a deep sigh. “Nope. But, I dunno, I…I get the feeling I can trust you.”
Mason acted without thinking. He lay down next to Parker, rolled onto his side and put his arm across Parker’s broad chest. “Thank you, that means a lot. I promise that whatever you tell me won’t go any further.”
Parker shifted so he was lying on his side, facing Mason. “I know, bud. I don’t mind admitting I’m scared, I’m usually the one in control, I have to be, but all this, it’s…” Parker’s voice faded into silence.
“I know.” Mason pulled the big jock into a tight hug. “I’m here for you, buddy.”
Parker snuffled, and buried his head into Mason’s chest. Mason reached up and stroked Parker’s hair, but unlike the previous time, he didn’t get a sexual thrill out of it, he was just offering comfort to a lonely and confused fellow student, a person he was beginning to realize he was getting serious feelings of attachment for.
“You’re all right with this?”
Mason smiled. “I gotta say it wasn’t quite what I expected would happen between us, but I really like it,”
“Me, too.”
In an attempt to change the subject, Mason asked, “Do you think I need to bulk up? I mean I’m so skinny.”
“Nah. You’ve got a good body. Okay, so you’re not bulging with muscles, so what? But everything’s in proportion.”
“Thanks. Though I still think I’m a bit thin.”
“You need to be that way to play soccer. Nope, you’re good as you are.”
Even though the complement was carefully phrased, Mason still blushed.
Parker laughed. “It’s so cute when you get embarrassed.”
“Cute! Yuck, I hate that word. It’s the sort of thing a grandmother or an old aunt would say.”
“Oh, looky here,” Parker affected an old lady voice, “just look at those baby cheeks.” Parker pinched them. “A
nd such a cherubic smile. And those hazel eyes. Now who do you remind me of?”
Mason burst out laughing.
“Oh, but your hair. You’ve certainly inherited that from your Uncle Henry. Come here, let me fix it.”
Mason lost it completely. He couldn’t lie still, he was laughing so hard.
The two eventually quieted, Parker settled back down against Mason’s chest, Mason content to cuddle the bigger boy. The silence was broken when Mason’s stomach rumbled.
Parker laughed softly. “I guess we ought to get up so you can feed your belly.”
“Yeah. Wanna go out to eat? That way I can show off my car.” Realizing his comments could be insensitive, he quickly added, “Sorry, Parker, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know, bud. You’re just used to having nice things. It was natural for you to say it.”
“I’m sorry.” Mason gave Parker a squeeze.
“It’s cool.”
Neither teen made an effort to move from their comfortable embrace. However, Mason’s stomach had other ideas, letting out another, and louder, groan.
Parker propped himself up on one elbow and regarded Mason with a serious expression.
“What?” Mason asked, looking back at the grey-eyed god.
Parker leaned down and began to nibble at Mason’s lips, which soon opened, allowing Parker’s tongue entrance.
The two spent a few minutes kissing before the telephone interrupted them. Parker withdrew.
“Hello?” Mason said into the bedroom extension.
“Mason, honey.”
“Oh, hi, Aunt Caroline. How are you and Uncle Peter?”
“We’re fine, dear. I just wanted to have a word with your mom.”
As Mason explained to his mother’s oldest sister that his mom was at work, Parker made a series of comic faces, pinching his cheeks and generally making it difficult for Mason to not burst out laughing.
“Uh, I gotta go, someone’s at the front door. I’ll tell mom you called, okay?” Mason said in an effort to end the call. Sometimes Aunt Caroline could be on the phone for hours.
“Okay, dear. I love you.”
Going red in the face, Mason was forced to return the affectionate phrase before hanging up.
