by Biscuit
Chapter 2
Colin Daley fucked me, told me to get myself a
haircut and took off. Well, first he took a good look
at me as he was pulling on his clothes and asked me,
"Just how old are you anyway?"
I lied and said I was fifteen. He visibly shuddered.
Guess I should have lied bigger.
Places to go, people to see. He didn't have time to
hang around with a kid he'd just fucked who was
only fifteen and needed a haircut.
In a way I was glad. I didn't know what to say to
him or how to act once we weren't tearing at each
other's clothes and mauling each other's bodies.
In another way, I wanted to fucking kill myself.
I was like a sleepwalker, taking a shower, stripping
down my bed. I washed the sheets and put them
back on, like nothing had happened. I crawled into
the cleaned bed and slept.
But something had definitely happened.
I was up way too early in the morning, having gone
to bed at like three o'clock in the afternoon. I'd
gotten up once in the night to shovel some food down
and then gone back to bed. Like being sick; my brain
was fogged and my body was aching.
Getting ready for school before it was even near time,
I pulled my hair back tight and lingered over picking
out clothes that I thought would made me look less
I didn't let myself think about Colin Daley. He was
there in my head but I forced myself to focus on
other stuff.
The acid green pants or anything like them were out,
for sure. I put on a baggy pair of chinos that I usually
liked to pair up with a trashy black lace polyester thing
that I loved. No lace, no way. I whipped out a pinstriped
shirt that had hung in my closet, untouched, since I'd
gotten it for my birthday from my grandmother. My
mom's mom. She was the only grandparent I had. It
was like a tradition already, every chance she got she
gave me clothes that were light years from anything I'd
have ever worn. I figured it was a shirt whose time had
All my silver rings and chains were dumped in a pile
on top of my chest of drawers; my fingers and neck
were bare.
When I walked in the kitchen, my mom looked up
from her coffee and squinted at me.
"Do I know you?" she laughed. I grunted, filling
up my own cup with coffee, liberally lacing it with
cream and sugar. The thought rose that even my
coffee seemed girlish. I ought to drink it black, I
thought. Yuck. At least, I told myself, I shouldn't
use sugar.
Megan showed up moments later, like every
school morning, to meet for the walk over. She
always got there in plenty of time to have coffee
with my mom and me in the morning. It would be
a few years yet before she'd make me squirm by
confessing that she'd always had a crush on my mom.
Jesus. My mom. I guess I could see it. I mean my
she's cute; thin, boyish, with feverishly bright green
eyes and ruffled short blonde hair. But it made me
feel pretty weird. I tried to make her swear she'd
never do anything about it. She told me to fuck off.
My new look didn't go down too well with Megan.
"Jesus, Corby. Some jerk mistakes you for a girl
and you go all corporate."
I suffered through her telling my mom the short
version of what had happened in the park. And
didn't the two of them agree all over the place about
it, talking like I wasn't sitting there with my face like
stone. They were right that it had hit me harder than
I was willing to admit, but they had no idea what had
really happened. And I didn't open my mouth except
to say, "If you guys are done with the post game
wrap up, it's time to get out of here." They shared a
knowing look that made me groan.
Colin Daley had changed the smell of me or
something. It was like my body chemistry had gotten
whacked and it didn't matter how I dressed myself up.
I now stunk of what I was. That's how I felt.
Right off, in my first period study group, a kid I'd
known since forever, sniffed me out like I was
wearing eau de gay guy.
Chad Grossman had been at that school as long as I
had. We weren't buddies or anything. We knew each
other, the way you do from seeing the same face for
years. He was a brainy kid who was following a more
academic track than I was. I hung out more with the
kids who were heavy into the art courses like I was.
But I liked history and he was sometimes in those
classes with me. A tall, dark haired boy with round
glasses who now had his legs splayed out under the
table where we working, brushing up against my
thigh. What the fuck? The guy was rubbing my leg
with his knee.
I shifted my leg away from him but my dick had
already reacted. I stole a look at him and then I
wished I hadn't because he was looking back, out
of the corner of his eye, grinning, and that knee of
his swung even wider, rubbing unmistakably along
the side of my thigh.
I was sure he'd never done anything like that before.
At least I thought I was sure. I couldn't remember it
if he had. In front of me on the table was a huge book
on Native American artifacts. I stared down at it hard,
a flutter of panic beating in my chest.
He kind of cleared his throat and sat back in his
chair. I looked, I couldn't help it. The guy's loose
jeans were packed at his crotch. If he didn't have a
boner he was giving a good imitation.
I pretty much lost it. There were six other kids at
that table with us, two to each of the other three sides
of it. All of us, supposedly working on some text we
were going to discuss at the end of the hour. Chad
had obviously lost his fucking mind.
I mumbled something or other about feeling sick
and bolted from the table, shooting out of the
library with my pack. I'd scooped it up and had it
in front of me like a shield, racing for the nearest
In the empty stall I sat there like I had some reason
to be there, with my pants down, just trying to get
calm. It wasn't possible that Chad Grossman had
just rubbed up against my leg and shown me the
bulge of his hard dick. Not possible.
"Corby?" the quiet creak of the door and my name.
"Yeah," I said, frozen in horror at the sound of Chad's
voice. I was staring down at my own bare legs like I'd
never seen them before.
He pushed at the door to the stall.
"You got to open it," he said softly. In a million years I
couldn't have guessed he expected it to be open, that he
thought I was in there waiting for him. I could see his
feet and ankles right at the door.
"Open up," he actually laughed softly. And I did it. I
reached over and flipped the latch up, not so scared
once I heard him laugh, wondering what the hell was
going on. He was in like a shot and I was eye level with
his hand squeezing his boner in his jeans.
"Get your feet up," he said, sounding amused, "you
know people do sometimes come in here to take a
I was staring, my mouth probably hanging open, at
him unzipping his pants.
There he stood, crowded right in between my knees
with his hard cock in his hand, looking at me. Maybe
it was the jaw drop or the fact that my face was on
fire, but he suddenly got the fact that I didn't know
what the fuck was going on. At least from the neck
up I was clueless -- my hard dick seemed to know
something good was happening, it was waving for
attention from between the flaps of my pinstriped
"Oh man," he said, even more amused than before.
"Get up." I guess I didn't move fast enough, he
reached down and pulled me up by my armpits,
trying to hold back his laughing as he pushed me
back against the door and took my place on the seat,
picking his feet up off the floor. He wrapped his
ankles right around the backs of my knees and took
hold of my hips.
Sweet fucking Jesus. Chad Grossman was sinking
his mouth right down on my cock.
One time Megan had done this for me. Well, we
tried to do it for each other. But we didn't like it,
even though it took awhile to admit it. We just sort
of agreed not to do it again. We were much better
at using our hands or rubbing up against each other's
legs than the mouth thing. Even the part where she
was sucking me wasn't good. She kept stopping to
spit, thinking I'd already come in her mouth. She
mumbled something about how wet it was. Excuse
me, I thought at the time, wet is what's down here,
as I carefully licked her, scared of everything I
But Chad Grossman didn't stop to spit once and
I was coming long before I even thought about
warning him. Something he'd tease me about
for years.
He thought everything was pretty funny until
we traded places and discovered together that I
seemed to have been born to suck cock. I can't
say how good it felt sliding between my lips. I
wished we were any place but that stupid school
bathroom. I wished a lot of things, including that
Chad wasn't who he was.
It was Colin Daley I was thinking about, wishing
I'd done this to him when I'd had the chance. I
saw him in my mind, picturing him on his back
on my bed, looking down at me with those icy
eyes while I sucked him. It was his dick I was
running circles around with my tongue.
Chad was okay. I mean I liked him well enough.
He went back to being amused afterwards and
the teasing started that wouldn't stop for the
rest of the years I knew him. How many ways
can a guy work the phrase, "Hey, thanks for the
warning," into a conversation? As many ways as
there were, he thought of them. After the first
few times I turned scarlet, I've got to admit, it
made me smile.
But that day, I was far from laughing. I felt like
everybody knew what we'd done. The bitch of it
is, some of them did. How had I gone to school
with these guys without ever knowing that there
were about a dozen of them who met in the
bathrooms to jerk off or blow each other?
It's not that I'm stupid. I just had a lot to learn.
I didn't know that I was going to a school that
a lot of people sent their kids to after they found
out they were gay; if they were lucky enough to
be able to afford it.
Chad told me he'd been coming on to me for
more than a year and I'd never noticed. Well,
not until that morning.
I'd been dancing through my life, not just my
school, in my own little cocoon. With Megan.
I guess it took Colin Daley to open my eyes. A
good thing, maybe, but it didn't feel like a good
In my weird outfit, with the memory of sucking
Chad's dick competing with images of fucking
Coling Daley, I was hardly at home in my own
Over lunch I was sullen and snapped at Megan
when she asked me what was wrong. Not good.
She wasn't the kind of girl to let stuff slide. We'd
known each other so long. Even if there were
huge gray areas we hadn't figured out yet, she
knew me better than anybody else did.
"Look," she said, "I know you're fucked up over
yesterday. Stop trying to pretend like nothing
happened. You hit a guy, Corby. I don't think you
ever thought you'd do something like that. But he
deserved it."
"I don't want to talk about it any more."
"What's this any more shit, you haven't talked
about it all."
"Yeah, well, drop it."
"It's more than that," she said and I got a jolt of
fear up the back of my neck. But when she went
on, I realized she didn't know. "It's your dad," she
said, so gently. And didn't push me any further.
Christ, my dad. That was enough to turn the food
in my stomach to lead.
Poor Megan. She did have the big picture, but not
the close up details of what was turning me inside
out. And for the first time since I'd known her, I
wasn't filling her in. She wasn't just my girlfriend.
She was my best friend. We'd been spending at least
part of almost every single day together since we
were ten years old. That's when she'd started at
Amsterdam and we'd latched on to each other like
soul mates.
If we hadn't been as close as we were, both of us
might have figured out we were gay a lot sooner.
But I wouldn't trade those years of being close to
her for anything. Big deal. I didn't figure it out
until I was fourteen. A lot of guys take a hell of a
lot longer.
For me, the jig was just about up. Chad didn't
mean to out me, he just couldn't keep his mouth
shut. For all the misery I was about to be in, it
would be a long time before I understood just
how lucky I was. My name wasn't the only thing
I wouldn't be ridiculed for in that expensive, and
so very progressive school. People would find out
I'd lost my cherry in the bathroom with Chad, and
I'd get teased, but nobody would be looking to beat
me up over it. Except Megan.
I was luckier than I knew. In so many ways. I was
a well insulated, wealthy kid who didn't know he
had a silver spoon the size of a shovel in his mouth.
Yeah, I was fucked up over my dad leaving home
and my mom dancing at the verge of some kind of
breakdown, in spite of how cheerful she was acting.
And I was fucked up over Colin Daley. Megan was
about to start hating me for awhile. But I had it so
much easier than so many guys I've met since.