One of the things that really pissed me big time about Kyle was his seeming ability to be able to guess what was going on in my head despite my insistence on being private and withdrawn. On the other hand, I kinda took it as a compliment 'cause he was interested in me -- and not just from a curiosity aspect. He'd proved time and time again that he was a good bud, and a genuine guy.
Friday night, we all went to Corners for a rave. Well, that was except for Steve and his girl. They went to a club called Wipeout 'cause there was a surfer bash there. I figured Kyle and Steph would've wanted to go there too, but they didn't. Maybe they didn't want it to look like they were deserting Carol and me. Anyway, I wasn't really into surfing or the culture -- it meant hanging with too many guys.
By the time we'd hitched a ride back to our suburb, Steph was already freaking about being late, so we walked her home, watched Kyle give her a bit of a pash, then went back to Carol's place where I invited Kyle to sleep over.
"I'd better crash in the den this time. I'm still sober, and you wouldn't want me gawking at you guys while you're… well, y'know."
"You're right. We wouldn't. Besides, I don't want you telling the whole fucking school about my technique."
"Or lack of it."
I stripped down to my boxers, grabbed a sleeping bag and led Kyle to the den where he commented on my boner. "Looks like you're ready for something," he grinned.
"Trust you to notice. Hey, listen, I don't suppose you've got a condom on you?"
"You wanna check my cock?"
Kyle picked his chinos off the floor, searched a side-pocket and produced a rubber. Still in its original packaging, thank Christ, I thought.
"You want me to slip it on for you?"
Jeez! Always with the jokes! "Go to sleep, Kyle."
Well, the den was right alongside Carol's room, and the dividing wall wasn’t exactly soundproof. I figured if Kyle wasn't asleep already, he would've heard all the damn noise Carol and I were making -- but what the fuck! Sex was sex! And it wasn't about whispering sweet nothings into each other's ears. Before we'd starting getting it on, though, Carol said she'd overheard Kyle's remarks to me when I was next door.
"Don't pay any attention to that bullshit. He's just goofing off."
"Maybe. But I think he likes you a helluva lot."
"It's just guy stuff. Forget it."
Early next morning, Carol went to the kitchen to make coffee, then took a mug to the den. I could hear her distinctly. "Hey, looks like Steph should've stayed over last night."
"What was all that about?" I asked as she brought the remaining two coffees into her room.
"Kyle's got a boner."
"Kyle's always got a fucking boner," I laughed. "He was probably born with one!"
"It looks kinda cool."
"Chill, OK? I'm not saying yours doesn't."
"So what's so cool about his?"
"I dunno. It's got a nice shape."
"And mine doesn't?"
"Jeez, Mark! Will you quit with the para thingy? You've got an awesome dick. OK? How many times do I have to tell you? Anyway, you already told me about that time in the gym when you and Kyle compared dicks, and you said yours was bigger. And you were right, it is. But not by much," she grinned.
"I don't understand women."
"Listen you fucking muscle-bound oaf, dicks are like a bonus. You like the guy, you like the dick. It's not like you like the dick and then like the guy." She giggled so much at her own remark, that she spilled half the fucking coffee while trying to put it on the dressing table. "Kyle invited us to the beach. You wanna go?"
"Too many people."
"So want do you want? A desert island?"
"OK, OK, I guess it won't hurt."
Carol and I did join the guys at the beach later that day and, I had to admit, it was kinda cool. There wasn't any surf, so Steve, Wingnut, Kyle and a couple of other guys were playing volleyball and beach soccer. After a bit of coaxing from Carol, I joined in and had some fun. It wasn't the kinda thing I would normally do, which made me wonder why I had this anti-social attitude most of the time. Maybe Kyle was right about chilling with the guys more often.
For some reason only known to nature, the weather turned cold again on Monday morning. Before swim prac, all the guys were rugged up like Eskimos. Later, in the showers, Kyle told me that a lotta them had to untangle their weenies from their pubes. "I see that you don't neet to," he laughed.
Most of the week was taken up with study. We had a stack of assignments, some of which were due the following week, but I took a break on Wednesday and rocked around to Kyle's house where we rapped in his room for quite a while.
"Wingnut should be here shortly."
"You expecting him?"
"Not particularly. I know he's gotta lotta homework to do, but the nosey little bugger would've seen you arrive. He really likes you."
Sure enough, the energetic grommet bounded into Kyle's room wearing a grin a mile wide. "Hiya, Kyle, hiya, Mark." Within a few moments he was being his usual inquisitive, mischievous self. "So when are you gonna beat up on Kyle again?"
I answered by cracking up.
"Seriously! I wanna watch!"
"You're a really good friend, Wingnut. Now beat it."
"OK, but don't beat up on Kyle until later. I gotta get back to my homework. See ya!"
"He's a funny little dude," I laughed as the kid disappeared out the door.
"Yeah, wicked personality."
"I can see why the chicks think he's cute. He's got a helluva bod for a twelve year old."
"What the fuck? I'm not blind, Kyle."
"It's just that I thought you didn't notice that kinda stuff."
"What are you trying to say?"
"Nothing. Hey, I think it's natural to notice other guys, just like girls notice other girls."
The convo was headed in a direction I didn't feel comfortable with, so I changed the subject. "Wingnut was telling me about that cactus you got, and how it only flowers once a year at night."
"Yeah, I asked mom to buy it 'cause it reminds me of somebody -- an old guy."
"So he's green and spiky?"
"Nope. He's tough. Hey, I do a bit of gardening around the hood to earn bucks. OK? So I notice things. Like the rose and the cactus. They're both thorny, but they're beautiful when they flower. And the cactus? Well, he's a loner, kinda like a rebellious teen who likes to jack off when no one's looking, and has the time of his life. And the rose? A rose needs a lotta friends around. I've never seen a rose on its own. But when the cactus flowers, it's an event and it makes a statement. The old dude reminds me so much of that cactus, and when he flowers, it's gonna be a fucking event -- take my word for it."
"Who is he?"
"Just a guy I email a lot."
"Is that why you spend so much fucking time in the comp room?"
"That and other things."
"You're a weird dude, Kyle. Sometimes I get the feeling that there's a helluva lot more going on in that brain of yours than you let on."
"So now you're the kettle calling the pot black? Anyway, you looked like you were having a cool time the other day at the beach."
"Yeah, it was fun -- more fun than I'd expected."
"You wanna come tomorrow arvie? Just for a swim?"
"Yeah, I guess."
Kyle had a way of persuading me to do things that I wouldn't normally do. And, once again, he was right. The thing that was most enjoyable about swimming in the surf was that it wasn't sport, and it wasn't competitive. It was just plain fun with no pressure. As I caught the waves and body-surfed, it was like all my hangups had taken a back seat. Or, as Kyle put it, it cleaned out the cobwebs. There was also a kinda bonding thingy about the surf. After we'd both ridden a wave to shore, we'd stand up in the wash and laugh together, as if we were sharing something special. I didn't quite know how to explain it, but it felt fucking wicked and, I guessed, that's what really mattered most.
As strange as it seemed, I kept getting the feeling that I meant a hulluva lot to Kyle. He would grin and joke in the surf in a way that singled me out as somebody very special in his life. I'd never had a brother, and neither had he, so maybe it was a brotherly kinda thing. Whatever it was, it couldn't be ignored. It was far too fucking obvious to shrug off. And, in a way, it was kinda scary.
Anyway, Kyle's magic spell was kinda getting to me, and I found myself going to the beach often. We'd play volleyball or soccer with some of the other guys, or just surf and wrestle in the water. Kyle had this thing about wrestling, and would tackle me every chance he got. He seemed to enjoy the physical contact. But there was so much giggling and laughing going on, it was innocent enough. So why the boners? I didn't have an answer for that one and, to be honest, I banished any thoughts of sexual arousal to the back of my mind. Maybe it was just a teen hormone thingy that young guys had no control over. Boners went with the territory.
Another wicked thing about hanging with the guys was watching Wingnut chat up the girls on the beach. They were maybe a year or two older than he was, but that didn't stop the horny little bugger. He'd pull his boardies down to a point where they were only just defying gravity, then casually walk up to the girls and start chatting. Kyle, Steve and I would crack up totally at the sight of the girls' eyes riveted to the kid's muscles. He had those giggling groupies in the palm of his lecherous hand. Yeah, he was quite a dude, and I could understand why Kyle and Steve had a lotta time for that kid. He rocked big time.
Later, back in the water, Kyle and I were wrestling again when he threw his arms around me in a bear-hug. It was only for a few seconds, but there was a fleeting moment when I felt an intense closeness to the guy, as though there were a special bond, an overwhelming sense of belonging. It was totally weird, and nothing like I'd ever felt with Carol -- or anybody else for that matter. The moment passed, and we continued to goof off. If Kyle had felt something similar, he didn't say anything about it. Maybe it was just my crazy head doing crazy things.
When Steve joined the action, he was in for quite a surprise. I picked him up and threw him into the surf. "Jeez," Kyle gushed, "Steve's no lighty! How did you do that?"
"I did Judo as a kid and learned a few things," I boasted. "So don't mess with me. OK?" My warning didn't faze either of the fuckers, who both dove on top of me and took me to the sandy bottom.
"You must've had a good day," mom said over dinner. "You're smiling."
"Yeah, we kinda fooled around at the beach."
"Kyle's having quite an effect on you."
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