Florida USA
Part 3

"You finished writing yet?"

"Yep. I was talking to Mr B. He said that I see you differently to the way other people do."

"Yeah? Like how?"

"How the fuck do I know? I'm not them."

Daniel threw the chest expander on his bed, then stood there with his hands on his narrow hips, and his blonde head tilted to one side. "OK, so how do you see me?"

"Perfect."

"Yeah, right. Hey, Paul, it's cool of you to say that, but like nobody's perfect. OK?"

"Maybe not. Anyway, what's perfect? Did you know that when you glance sideways, your right eye doesn't go as far as the left one does? Makes you look kinda crosseyed."

"Crosseyed?"

"Jeez, Daniel, forget about looking in the mirror! It only happens when you look sideways. And you can't see yourself like that in the fucking mirror!"

"How come you never told me about that?"

"I didn't think it was a biggie. Besides, I think it looks cute."

"Crosseyed is cute?"

"To me it is. Anyway, it only happens sometimes. It's not like you're crosseyed all the time. And that bit of hair at the back of your head... the way it sticks up. I think that's cute, too."

"You're giving me a fucking complex, Paul."

"You're the one who said nobody's perfect."

"Yeah, but I didn't expect you to start tearing me to fucking shreds."

"You know what I think? I think it's the little things... y'know, the quirky things... that kinda attract people. The way you say things. The way you smile. The way you're standing right now with your head tilted. And that dumb look on your face."

"So now I'm dumb?"

"That's not what I said, Daniel. Anyway, I wouldn't change anything about you. I think you're perfect just the way you are."

"You do, huh? Crosseyed and dumb. Thanks a bunch."

"Jeez! You're fucking impossible! You know that? I say you're perfect, and you tell me nobody's perfect. So I agree, and I'm still in the shit. What do you want me to say?"

"You wanna know something? You and the other guys are always putting me on a pedestal... treating me like I'm some kinda god or whatever. And it gets to be pretty damn cool up there, feeling like I'm Mr All-time Wonderful. And then the pedestal starts to get a bit shaky, and it's like I'm gonna come crashing back to earth. My mom's always saying that it's important for people to keep both feet on the ground."

"If they had, nobody would know what the earth looked like from the moon."

"Not the same thing. Anyway, those guys had to come back to earth."

"Are you worried that you mightn't be the dude other people think you are?"

"I guess."

"OK, so tell me who you think you are."

"Me? I'm OK, I guess."

"Yeah, right. Remember those pics you sent Kyle? Were they pics of a dude who thought he was just OK?"

"That was different. It was a game. And you're forgetting something. I didn't know Kyle then. When I met him in Cape Town, I freaked. I was scared shitless."

"What of? That you wouldn't measure up in real life?"

"Something like that."

"But you did."

"I got lucky."

"Yeah, you got lucky. And you got lucky with me, and with Dick, and Jo, and Freddie, and Steve, and Josh, and..."

"OK, OK. Enough already."

"So what's this attack of insecurity all of a sudden?"

"I dunno. Maybe I don't wanna believe all the stuff people say about me in case it's not really true. When you said I was crosseyed and dumb, it made me realize..."

"For fuck sake, Daniel! That's not what I said!"

"OK, smartass. Who am I? Huh? I ask you, and I get one answer. I ask somebody else, and I get a different answer. There are probably people out there who think I'm a total fuckwit."

"Are they right?"

"Maybe they are."

"Maybe? OK, so that means maybe I'm right and they're wrong."

"Maybe, maybe, maybe. A whole bunch of fucking maybes. So what's real, Paul? What's real? Can you tell me that?"

"I'm real. And you're real 'cause I'm looking at you. We're both real. Just 'cause there's over a billion people in China who don't even know we exist, does that mean we're not real?"

"That's all fucking gobble-de-gook, Paul. I wanna know who I am... not what other people think I am."

"OK, so who's Kyle?"

"Huh? Whaddaya mean who's Kyle? What kinda dumb question is that?"

"Same one you're asking."

"OK, if you're so fucking smart, you tell me who Kyle is."

"Well, I'm not sure if this is right, but I kinda think Kyle is not who he is, but what he does. Same with you."

"Hello? I am what I do?"

"Yeah. What you do affects other people, like me. So I respond. What's the sun? What's the rain? Do you ask the sun or the clouds? Or do you ask the plants? When you met Kyle, he had an effect on you, so you formed an opinion. Do you think Kyle has exactly the same effect on everybody? And what about the effect you had on Kyle?"

"You're avoiding the question, Paul."

"Who's Kyle? OK. Go ask Wingnut, or Mark, or Steph, or his folks. How many different Kyles are you gonna get?"

"That still doesn't answer the question, Paul."

"So you're saying that Kyle is who he thinks he is, and not who other people think he is?"

"Jeez, Paul! How can you be so fucking stupid? One night in Cape Town, he climbed into bed with me, and he laid on top of me. He asked me how I wanted to remember him. It was like he owned me. It was like he had this awesome power over me. He was totally in control."

"So that's Kyle? A guy who controls every person he meets? So he's gonna break into Buckingham Palace and do the same thing to Prince William? Yeah, right."

"Can we cut the crap?"

"Kyle didn't crawl into bed with me. He didn't have the same effect on me as he did on you. So what are we supposed to do? Agree on who Kyle is? Sure, a name, an address, and a phone number. Is that who Kyle is?"

"Cause and effect... like in science classes. Is that what you mean?"

"Yeah, 'cept the cause doesn't always have the same effect... depends on the thingy."

"Oh, I see. Thingy. Very fucking scientific."

"You know what I'm saying."

Daniel moved his chest expander outa the way, then flopped onto the bed. "This is all so fucking confusing, Paul. If you're right, then I'm a thousand different Daniels."

"One Daniel... a thousand different interpretations... including yours."

"Ah!" My totally cute, blonde-haired bud raised his upper bod, and rested on his elbows."That's what I'm saying, dude. Which one do I choose?"

"My interpretation?"

"Like on a pedestal?"

"Why not?"

"You really think I belong there?"

"Would I have put you there if I didn't think so?"

"What if I really don't belong there?"

"Does it matter?"

"You wanna blow me?"

"Thought you'd never fucking ask."

Daniel rolled off the bed, and stood before me. His semi was pulsating, steadily rising, growing thicker, waiting for my lips to slide down its rock-hard shaft. How could he possibly have doubts about himself? He was a ten outa ten, no problem. Well, he was in my eyes.

"Jeez, you've got a wicked bod, Daniel."

"Think?"

"Are you kidding? You know I fucking do! You're teasing me again... but I love it when you do that."

"What are you saying, Paul? That I should back off? Go for a swim?"

"No, no, no! Not now!"

"I gotta tell you something, man. When I see that cute boy-face of yours just inches away from my boner, I get a whole bunch of stuff zapping through my bod."

"Me, too. I love it when I'm looking at it -- that big, swollen knob, bouncing around like it can't wait another second -- knowing that it's gonna be fucking my face like crazy any second. Wicked!"

"Like now?"

"Soon."

"Jeez, Paul!"

"Chill, Daniel! I like looking at it. OK? Gimme a damn break!"

"It's a cock!"

"It's your cock!"

"You really like it, huh?"

"You really do underestimate yourself sometimes, Daniel. When you're confident, like you are now, and like Kyle was when you two were in bed together, you weave a fucking awesome spell. Totally awesome. It's like I don't have any say. It's like I don't wanna have any say."

"Oh? A while back, you were too busy writing stuff."

"That was then. This is now."

"So how come now is different?"

"'Cause I've finished writing stuff... and my focus has kinda changed. Jeez, Daniel..."

"Jeez, what?"

"I dunno why you doubt yourself. Honest, I don't. I can't think of anything better than swallowing your juice."

"Me swallowing your juice?"

"Yeah," I cracked. "I guess that's pretty cool as well."

Yep, having Daniel's throbber stabbing away at my tonsils, then offloading a truckload of delicious boy juice down my throat was too fucking awesome for words. And when it was his turn to blow me, I was the one who felt like a boy god, watching my boner gliding in and outa his full, red, stretched lips. Weird, huh? When we walked down the street, we were just two regular teens. But in each other's company, in private, we were gods. Cool.

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