Chapter 12

I rode home in silence, while Sky and Melissa regaled his dad with the story of how I'd suddenly turned into a rock star at the dance.

"Dad," enthused Sky, "it's like Wil is Clark Kent, and he just turned into Superman!"

"Maybe it's the glasses," laughed Cyn. She and Melissa giggled.

Shit, I thought. I'd had my glasses off all night, and I barely noticed it. I pulled them out of my coat pocket and put them back on.

"Say, Dad," said Sky. "Do you think you could get Wil a deal on contact lenses?" he said, giving me a wink.

Dr. Jones glanced at me in the mirror. "Well, normally that's against the rules. Technically, contacts should work fine with Wil's prescription, and we've had patients as young as ten wear them."

Cyn gently slipped my glasses off my face and put them back in my pocket, then gave me a little peck on the cheek.

Dr. Jones laughed. "But to tell you the truth, we just got some new samples in for testing, a new easier-to-wear type. They're supposed to revolutionize the eye-care business. Tell you what, Wil," he said, glancing at me again as we sped down MacDill Boulevard. "If your parents will give their permission, we'll put you on the list to get a free pair for testing. You get to wear them at no charge for six months, as long as you agree to getting an exam every six to eight weeks or so. Sound like a deal?"

I nodded. Geeez, I thought. I could finally stop looking like a four-eyed geek for a change, I thought.

"Will they work in the pool, Dr. Jones?" I asked.

He laughed. "No. I'm afraid no lens can do that. But you can't swim and wear glasses, either, right?"

"Yeah, you're right. I could live with that, I guess," I said, thinking it over.

For the rest of the ride home, I thought about how great it was to sing up on stage. Man, I thought. What if I could become part of something like The Beatles? Man -- the money, the crowds, the girls... The girls.

Ronnie.

I felt a pang. I thought about him and his brother Rick. I looked up and saw Sky looking at me, and he grinned and pantomimed a blow job again, poking the inside corner of his cheek with his tongue, then giggled. God, I thought, sighing to myself. Maybe it really was Sky that I loved the most.

We pulled up in Cynthia's driveway, and I walked her to the door. "I guess this is the obligatory kiss goodnight," I said, smiling.

She smiled and put her arms around me, then slipped a hand down my pants and gently squeezed me. "That's unless you have time for more," she giggled.

"Cyn!" I hissed. "Dr. Jones is gonna see us!"

"He can't see anything. Oh, god, I want you so badly, Wil," she murmured. "Please say you'll come by tomorrow night!"

I nodded, then she kissed me quickly, pulled her hand back up and smiled at me. "Thanks for everything, Wil," she whispered. "I mean it. Merry Christmas."

I nodded. "Merry Christmas, Cyn!" I called, and ran back to the car.

Sky had already gotten in the back with Melissa, so I hopped in the front seat and closed the door. Dr. Jones turned to me as he drove down the street.

"I think you'd be a good candidate for these new contacts, William," he said. "Your prescription has no astigmatism, so they should work perfectly. Give me a call at the office, after we're back from vacation, and we'll talk about it further."

I nodded, then glanced back at Sky and Melissa, who seemed to be deep in conversation. Sky whispered something to Melissa, then her eyes widened as she looked at me.

Gee, I wonder what they're talking about, I mused silently.

After we dropped off Melissa at her place, Dr. Jones made the turn down El Prado and pulled into my driveway.

"I gotta talk to Wil for a sec', Dad," said Sky as he got out of the back seat.

"Just make it quick, Schuyler," Dr. Jones sighed, irritatably.

We walked up the sidewalk to the front porch, and stopped at the door.

"What were you and Melissa talking about?" I said, curiously.

"Oh, nothin'," he laughed. "She just said she was glad to find out you weren't a fag."

I felt like punching him. "What the fuck did you tell her?" I hissed.

"Simmer down, man!" he said, with a hurt expression on his face. "I'd never tell her anything! You know that!"

I could see he was telling the truth. We both knew each other too well to ever get away with lying to each other. I nodded and felt my anger fade.

"She told me she'd heard that you were spending a lotta time with Rick and Ronnie, so she figured you were... you know..." Sky pantomimed a limp wrist, and I slugged him in the shoulder, hard.

"Hey!" he said, rubbing his arm and giving me a pained expression. "Cut that out!"

"Rick and Ron aren't homos!" I said, icily.

"Wil, it's me," he said, evenly. "I know you didn't learn how to suck guys off just by doin' it to yourself."

My face reddened. "Ronnie's a real cool guy, Sky," I said, defensively. "You just don't know him like I do."

"Yeah, like I'd wanna hang out with either of those two bozos," he snapped.

I shot him an angry glare. "Shut up, Sky!"

He grinned. "Good luck with Cyn tomorrow night, stud!" he said.

"Don't remind me!" I moaned, as I opened the front door.

"I've got some rubbers if you need 'em! I'll wrap 'em up and give 'em to you as a Christmas present!" he whispered loudly, and ran back to the car.

I rolled my eyes, slammed the door shut and walked inside. My parents were in the living room, sitting up and watching a rerun of the 'Johnny Carson' show on TV. They looked over at me and smiled. I glanced over at the tree, and noticed there were already about a dozen colorfully-wrapped packages under the tree.

"Did you kids have a nice time?" my mom asked.

Oh, nicer than you'd ever wanna know, I thought.

"Yeah, it was great, Mom," I said wearily, ripping off the hated tie, which had been strangling me all night.

"That's nice, Wil," said my Dad.

I took a step or two forward, then paused.

My Dad turned to me, expectantly. "Something wrong, son?" he asked.

I hesitated, then took my glasses out of my pocket and held them out in my hand. "Uh, Dad -- do you think I could... well -- get rid of these glasses and get... y' know... contacts?" I held my breath.

Dad sighed. "Son, we're already going to have to spend a lot of money on your teeth. Your sister's teeth are already costing me a fortune. We can't do that and throw away money on luxuries like contact lenses, too. Besides, you're much too young. Those are for adults."

"No," I pleaded. "Dr. Jones said I could have 'em free, for six months!"

"Really?" he mused.

"They're experimental. Some new kinda deal. He says I'm a perfect candidate for them."

My mom thought for a moment. "Well, if Ray says they're alright, dear," she said, "I don't see the problem."

Dad nodded. "We'll talk about it next week, Wil."

My face broke out in a huge grin. I knew what that meant -- that was usually his way of saying yes. "Thanks, Dad!" I said, patting his shoulder. My mother smiled and nodded.

I bounded up the stairs, tore off my suit, and fell into bed. God, I still ached all over. I poked a few of my bruises, but they seemed to feel a little bit better. I got up and took a good look at myself in the mirror. Hmmm, not bad. They were definitely fading. I couldn't see my back too well, but they looked OK. I reached down and checked the family jewels. OW! Those definitely still hurt like hell. I'm not surprised, I thought, given the workout I've had over the last few days.

Shit. I was gonna see Cyn tomorrow night. I fell back into bed. What was that going to be like? I thought. I couldn't go through with this. Sure, I liked her, and she was really cute, and I know she liked me... Suddenly, I felt a familiar twinge from my groin. DOWN boy, I thought. There's no way I can still be horny!

I looked down. Apparently, 'Little Wil' had other ideas, as it inched up my belly and crossed my belly button, then rose up off my stomach. In ten seconds, I was stiff as a rock and throbbing steadily in time with my heartbeat. I sighed, lay back on my bed, and started up the same old rhythm. Oh, god, that was great, I thought. In less than a minute, I started curling my toes with my impending orgasm.

Suddenly, there was a knock at my door. I quickly yanked up my bedspread, and yelled, "WHO IS IT?"

Sharon cracked the door open an inch. "It's the phone, Wil!" For you!"

I grinned. Well, at least she was knocking, now. "Who's calling me at 11:45?" I asked.

"It's Ronnie! He says it's important!"

Shit. "Close the door, Sharon, and give me a second."

She closed the door, and I jumped up and pulled on some shorts and a T-shirt. I shoved my erection to the side so it wouldn't be too visible, and prayed it wouldn't slip out of my pant-leg as I ran downstairs to the kitchen.

"Wil, please tell your friends not to call past ten o'clock!" yelled my dad as I sailed around the banister.

"I will, Dad!" I yelled, as I ran to the kitchen. Breathlessly, I picked up the phone. "What the hell do you want, Ronnie?" I whispered angrily.

"I'm sorry to call so late, Wil. But... I got some really bad news!" he said, choking back his tears.

Fuck! What could it be? It couldn't be Scott Michaels. He was definitely out of commission.

"Jesus, I'm sorry, Ronnie," I said, apologetically. "What is it?"

"It's my Uncle Bob," he said. "He says we're... we've gotta move next week! To... to Texas!"

My heart stopped. "Oh, Ronnie," I whispered. "Shit." For once, I was absolutely dumb-struck.

"I can't leave, Wil! I... I love you," he cried, finally letting it all out.

Tears welled up in my eyes. "I know, babe," I said. Shit, I thought. 'Babe'? Oh, fuck it. "Ronnie, it's gonna be okay."

"No, it's not!" he wailed. "You're my best friend! I can't leave you."

I nodded. I guess I was his best friend, just like Sky was my best friend. Well, maybe not exactly like Ronnie was with me.

"Look, Ronnie, can we talk about this tomorrow?" I said, exhausted.

He sniffed. "Okay," he said, in a small voice. "Can you... can you spend the night tomorrow night? You know, for Christmas?"

"Sure... Oh, wait, Ronnie -- shit, I can't," I said, closing my eyes and silently cursing. "I've... got somebody else I've gotta see. I already promised."

Ronnie was silent. "It's Sky, right?" he whispered.

"No. I don't wanna talk about it."

"It's that girl, isn't it?" he hissed. "The one from History? That slut, Cynthia Anderson."

I gritted my teeth. "Shut up about Cynthia, Ronnie."

"I knew she was a slut," he said, angrily. "Rickie knew, too, but we didn't wanna tell you."

"Then why are you telling me now?" I snapped.

"I told you, Wil," he sniffed. "I know you really wanna be with us."

"I'm not a homo," I snarled. "I like you and all, Ronnie, but..."

He was silent. "Goodbye, Wil," he said, finally, and hung up the phone.

I stood there and stared at the receiver, then hung up. Fuck, I thought. I walked back to the foot of the stairs, and Mom and Dad looked at me while Carson's audience laughed in the background on TV.

"I'm sorry about that," I said, sheepishly. "Ronnie's family is going to move to Texas in a few days, and he's freaking out."

"Oh, that's a shame," said my Mom. "He seems to like you an awful lot."

But it's mainly my dick he likes, Mom, I thought. I trudged up the stairs. "Goodnight, Mom -- 'night, Dad." They muttered their goodnights.

I closed my door, this time remembering to lock it, then I pulled off my shorts and shirt, and fell back into bed. Where was I? Oh, yeah.

In less than thirty seconds, I was hard again and began to pant heavily. Oh, Jesus, I thought, as I stroked myself with both hands. Cyn, please suck me! I replayed the sight of her face in my lap at the golf course, and felt my balls tighten. I was getting close. God, she was beautiful in the moonlight.

Suddenly, her image faded from my fantasy and was replaced by Ronnie. "I love you, Wil," he was saying, and he kissed me deeply, overcome with passion. His brother Rick was in my fantasy, too, and we were all naked, wrestling and rolling around on the floor of their room. I closed my eyes and felt a surge. My heart raced and I felt a thin sheet of sweat on my chest.

As I entered the home stretch, Ronnie's face melted away, only to be replaced by another. I couldn't recognize it at first, but then I knew: it was Pete, the handsome guitarist from the concert a few hours earlier. I began to moan softly as I imagined what he looked like naked. I thrusted uncontrollably at the vision of the two of us up on stage, only this time, the audience was gone and we were tearing each other's clothes off. His long blond hair fell over my face as we hungrily kissed, then he wrapped his muscular arms around me. We fell to the stage floor and put our faces in each other's groins, and began sucking as hard as we could.

Suddenly, I went off like a rocket. I had my biggest climax of the evening, moaning aloud as several streams of white goo shot past my face and splattered on the headboard of my bed, then on my cheek and my neck. Three, four more jets, and I lay there completely exhausted.

Once I regained my composure and caught my breath, I was puzzled. Why had a vision of this total stranger suddenly popped into my head? After a minute, I reached for a tissue and wiped myself and the bed off. I sat up, found my suit pants, and pulled out the piece of paper with his name on it, and read it again:

 

	"I saw you out back tonight. You're fucking cool, man! Call me anytime."

I closed my eyes and thought of his face again, then folded up the piece of paper and stashed it behind my desk drawers with my secret stash of Playboys. I closed the drawer, then fell back into bed, exhausted. I was dead asleep in five minutes.
 
 
 

© 2001, John Francis