The usual warnings of dire consequences that nobody ever reads.
Don't proceed if you are under the legal age for accessing such stories. Don't proceed if you are unfortunate enough to live in an area where it is illegal to download and view such material.
This story is fiction, it didn't happen, the characters aren't real.
Finally, this work is copyright, all rights are reserved. The reader may print out or archive a copy for their own personal use, but hosting on any website without the author's permission is strictly prohibited.
I dedicate this story to my friend, mentor and editor Tim Mead. If it wasn't for his persistent prodding and 'gentle' enquiries about my progress, I don't think this story would have ever been finished.
Trapped Nerves
by Drew Hunt (drew.hunt@blueyonder.co.uk)
Chapter 1
Pill Hill - Portland, OR, July 2005
Whenever he entered an elevator, Dr. Mason Grant always felt a slight pang of fear. Guiding his wheelchair through the opening, Mason was glad to see that the car was empty. However, when he turned around to face the doors, someone else had stepped inside, too. Mason gazed up at the broad, heavy-set frame of the newcomer. His body froze when he reached the man's face.
Feeling a desperate need to escape, Mason reached for the rims of his wheels, but his arms refused to co-operate. To his horror the steel doors began to close, locking him inside the car with the one person he hoped he'd never see again.
* ** * * *
Central High School - Crawford, a small town outside Vancouver, WA, September 1991
The coach had worked the soccer team hard: harder than usual in Mason's opinion. Dragging his tired body out of the showers Mason reached for a towel. Stepping into the main part of the locker room, he beheld the sight of the football team in a state of semi-undress. Usually the soccer team used the smaller locker-room in the sports complex, but it was closed due to some problem with the water supply.
Snapping out of his momentary shock, Mason made his way to the benches and began to dry himself. The sight of so much new eye candy proved too hard to resist however. One particularly fine example of maleness was displaying itself to Mason's right. The penis was good sized; Mason was willing to bet its owner was getting aroused judging by its slight plumpness as the smooth pink tube rested against an almost hairless ball sac.
With a jolt, Mason realized he'd been staring too long. A brief glance could be passed off as innocent curiosity, but a prolonged stare was something else entirely. Lifting his gaze, Mason's eyes swept up a smooth and beautifully muscled torso to a handsome, square-jawed face, a pair of intense grey eyes staring back at him. Mason gasped. He'd been checking out Parker Collins, 'The' Parker Collins. The six feet two inch, hundred ninety pound star wide receiver and safety.
Feeling a wave of nausea rising from his churning stomach, Mason put his clothes on over his still damp body and got the hell out of Dodge. In his haste he almost tripped over the laces of his sneakers, which he'd left untied.
`How the fuck could I have been so God damned stupid? Parker Collins. Of all the mother-fuckingly dumb-ass idiotic things to do!' Mason said under his breath.
Mason didn't sleep much that night. Visions of Parker and his teammates bearing down on him, kicking the crap out of him, didn't exactly aid his rest.
An insistent buzzing woke Mason from the light doze he'd managed to slip into. Opening his eyes, he wondered if he ought to pretend to his mom that he was too sick to go to school. "Hell, I won't have to do much pretending,' he thought catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the door of his closet.
Getting out of bed, Mason knew he had to face the music some time; putting it off would only make things worse.
To his surprise the sky didn't fall in when school began. No one stared at him, called him names or threatened to break his bones. 'Maybe Parker's gonna bide his time before kicking my ass,' he thought as he pushed open the door to the main building.
Mason kept a low profile during the day. He thought he saw Parker at the other end of the hall when they were both changing classes after second period, but he managed to dive into a bathroom before Parker could see him.
Two days passed without incident. Mason was sitting in his usual spot under a maple tree, enjoying the warmth of the fall weather. After grabbing a sandwich, some fruit and a can of soda from the snack bar, he would often escape to his tree to eat his lunch. Few people used that part of the campus, tucked away as it was behind the sports complex.
A shadow fell across his gaze. When he looked up, Mason's jaw fell and his stomach clenched.
"Hi," the calm voice said.
"Um." Mason stared up at his visitor.
"This spot taken?" Parker said nodding at the space next to Mason.
"N-no."
Parker, never losing an ounce of his fluid grace, positioned himself next to Mason, their bare arms touching slightly.
"What ya got in the sandwich?" Parker eventually said after the two had remained quiet for a couple of minutes.
Mason stared at the object in his hand; his appetite having deserted him the moment Parker had shown up. "Um, Bologna and Swiss cheese."
"Cool," Parker said, before asking, "You gonna finish it?"
"I. . ." Mason wondered why they were talking about food. Why hadn't Parker already beaten the crap out of him?"
"Dude?"
"Err, um, n-no, sorry."
"Hand it over then. Man, I'm fucking starved. Lunch was a pile of shit."
Silently Mason gave Parker the remainder of his meal, stealing glances at the jock-god through the corner of his eye.
When Parker had finished eating, belched loudly and scratched his nuts - an action that caused Mason to whimper - he got to his feet. "Same time tomorrow, then." Parker said over his shoulder before loping away.
It wasn't until Parker had gone out of sight before Mason felt he had been released from the spell he'd been under. Why did being in Parker's presence make him act like a blushing tongue-tied fuck up? He was a senior just like Mason, they both played sports. Mason shook his head, unable to come up with a rational explanation.
* * * * *
Parker kept his promise, appearing at the maple tree next day. Mason being somewhat prepared, had bought extra.
"Thanks, bud," Parker said, picking up the oversized sandwich.
Mason was captivated by how the big guy ate. He'd never thought watching someone chewing their food could be sexy, but the way Parker did so sure was. He felt a stiffening in his pants which soon became uncomfortable. Fearing he'd draw attention to his predicament if he adjusted himself, Mason sat quietly, an arm lying strategically across his lap. 'Why does this guy have this effect on me?' Mason asked himself as he stole another quick glance at the handsome athlete.
"Thanks, man," Parker said once he'd finished.
"Uh," Was all Mason could think of to say.
"You want that orange?" Parker pointed at the piece of fruit.
"Uh, no." Mason had bought extra fruit, but had forgotten to get more soda. Fortunately Parker didn't ask for anything to drink.
"Cool." Parker leaned close to Mason before taking hold of the orange.
The slight pressure of bare flesh on his arm did nothing to ease the tightness in Mason's underwear. Swallowing a groan of pleasure, Mason continued to stare straight ahead. "Warm for September, isn't it?" Mason could have kicked himself for the banality of his statement.
Swallowing the segment of orange he'd been sucking, Parker turned his grey eyes upon Mason, the glint of playful mischief in them, causing Mason's stomach to flutter.
"Pray don't talk to me about the weather, Mr. Worthing. Whenever people do that, I always feel quite certain they mean something else."
It took Mason a couple of seconds to process what Parker had said. He stared stupidly at the gorgeous athlete.
"It's a line from 'The Importance Of Being Earnest'." At Mason's continuing look of incomprehension, Parker said, "It's a play by an English dude called Oscar Wilde. We're doing it in English."
"Oh, right." Mason was forced to do a rapid re-evaluation of Parker. He'd labeled him a dumb jock, passing each grade purely on his athletic ability.
"It's a cool play. Those stuck up English dudes always trying to put one over on each other."
"Um, yeah, right." Mason thought he'd been dropped into an episode of The Twilight Zone.
"Yeah, well." Parker looked down at the ground, Mason noticing the handsome face had become tinged with red. "Gotta get movin'. See ya around," Parker said, squeezing Mason's shoulder before standing up.
The contact, even though it was through a layer of cotton, made Mason's skin tingle. Waiting until Parker had walked away, Mason reached up and ran his fingertips over the place where Parker had touched him.
"This is too fucking weird," Mason said out loud.
Dusting the stray crumbs from his pants, Mason realized Parker hadn't said that they'd be sharing lunch the next day. The possibility that they wouldn't was surprisingly unsettling.
Mason needn't have worried, however. No sooner had he settled himself under his tree Friday lunchtime and opened his packet of sandwiches, when Parker showed up.
"What's on the menu today, bud?"
Mason tilted his head upward. "Uh," A vision of his six feet two inch jerk-off idol looking as though he'd been poured into his Umbro T-shirt, flexing his bulging biceps, stood looking down at him. Mason speculated the seams of the already tight T-shirt were in serious danger of giving up the unequal struggle.
Mason was forced to swallow before he could resume speaking. "I've, uh, just got PBJ today. They didn't have much at the snack bar and I kinda. . ."
"Cool," Parker said sitting down, cutting short Mason's ramblings.
Parker lifted the thickly cut sandwich and began to chew.
"Are you, uh, playing tonight?" Mason asked, stealing a quick glance at his dining companion before averting his eyes.
"Course. The Falcons couldn't win if I weren't there."
Mason smiled at the jock's cocky attitude. He shifted, as his penis began to plump. "Yeah, but there was that game last season against St Patrick's when you were injured in the first quarter, but we still managed to scrape through."
Parker stopped chewing and stared curiously at Mason. "I'd forgotten about that. So, ya coming to watch me? Should be a close game, but I reckon we can beat North Side if we stick to coach's game plan."
"You want me to go?" Mason couldn't believe what Parker had just said.
"Course. Why not?"
"Um, okay. I'd, um love to," Mason said, trying not to gush.
Once he'd finished chewing his sandwich, Mason dared to sneak a quick glimpse at Parker. Noticing the chiseled chin had a smear of grape jelly adhering to it, Mason warred with himself over what to do. He so wanted to lean forward to lick Parker's jaw clean, but he quickly pushed away that fantasy. Instead he pointed to his own chin and said, "You missed a spot."
Parker smiled as he wiped away the errant food.
"Better get off to class, got to finish my homework before Mrs. Harris puts us to sleep," Parker said interrupting Mason's musings.
Mason watched as Parker gracefully unfolded his long limbs and stood up, towering over him, the early afternoon sun creating a halo around his medium-length blond hair. Mason found it difficult to breathe.
"Get a seat at the front on the 40 yard line. You'll get a good view from there." Not waiting for a response, Parker turned and ambled away, Mason's eyes fixed on the globes of ass flesh in Parker's tight pants.
Once Parker was out of sight, Mason let out the breath he'd been inadvertently holding before adjusting his aching boner.
* * * * *
Mason found himself swept up in all the excitement and razzmatazz of the pre-game entertainment. He watched as the cheerleaders took the field enthusiastically waving their pompoms to the accompaniment of the school band. Much to his surprise, Mason was enjoying himself, and the game hadn't even begun.
Even though Mason had seen a number of professional and college games on TV, he was still surprised at the many stoppages in play.
Number 82 seemed to be on the field for most of the game, Mason had to restrain himself from leaping up every time Parker was tackled. He could have sworn several of them were late hits. Mason's cup of joy overflowed when Parker scored a touchdown in the third quarter. Even the ebullient announcer seemed to increase his level of excitement when he announced Parker's achievement. Mason found himself on his feet cheering loudly, but then so were many of the other home fans. Parker and his teammates congratulated each other in the end zone with high fives and helmet pats. As he ran back to the bench on the sidelines, he took off his helmet and waved in Mason's direction, Mason couldn't help but think the gesture was meant just for him. It felt odd however to be sitting amid his fellow students, many of them female. He soon realized they were girlfriends and family members of the players. Mason couldn't decide if this excited him or made him feel uneasy.
Though Mason found the game interesting, he didn't think he would ever become a dedicated fan. He was kind of relieved when the game was over; he'd grown cold sitting on the bleachers. He had to admit that other than Parker's being on the field he had enjoyed the half time performance by the marching band and the view of the buns of the players in their tight pants more than the game itself. The game, which had been tightly fought, the lead changing hands a number of times, ended in a 24-21 victory for the Falcons, the game being won by a last minute field goal set up by Parker catching a pass and running it to the 20 yard line. Then they ran three more plays to run down the clock and keep the opposition from gaining possession. Despite football not being his sport of choice, he had to admit the Falcons were one hell of a team.
The band struck up an enthusiastic rendition of the school's fight song as the team began to leave the field. Parker stayed behind to accept more of the crowd's appreciation of his efforts. Jumping the players' bench at the 40 yard line, he came to the stands and yelled to Mason. "Wanna go and get something to eat later?"
"Uh," Mason didn't know what to say.
"If you haven't got anything else to do , or. . ." Parker seemed somehow nervous.
"Yeah, sure." Mason tried to play down how joyful he felt.
Parker's face lit up in a wide smile. "Can you hang for half an hour then come round to the locker-room exit?"
"Sure." Mason couldn't help returning the smile.
"Cool," Parker said turning to follow the last few of his team members off the field.
* * * *
The next half hour seemed to pass slowly for Mason. He was barely aware of the crowd dispersing around him. As he continued to sit there, his mind tried to figure out what the hell was happening. Why had Parker gone out of his way the past few days to befriend him? He'd long since abandoned the idea that Parker was going to pulverize him. He tried not to view the invitation to get something to eat as more than it was. Parker just wanted to eat with him, maybe pay him back for the past few lunchtimes. The warm, tingly feeling that ran through his veins at the thought of spending time with Central High's best looking athlete went a long way in banishing the chill that had seemed to settle over the now empty bleachers.
There was a fair amount of activity around the exit to the locker room, players emerging, slapping one another on the back and generally horsing around in typical macho fashion.
Eventually the double doors opened and Parker emerged to loud noises of appreciation from his fellow jocks. He slapped a few backs but all the while seemed distracted as he scanned the small but enthusiastic crowd. Mason felt his heart speed up when their eyes locked and Parker began to make his way toward him.
"Glad you waited, bud," Parker said slinging an arm `round Mason's shoulders. "Hey, listen up, dudes. This is my new bud, Mason Grant. He's on the soccer team, but we won't hold that against him."
"Hey!" Mason was surprised that Parker knew which sport he was involved with, they'd never discussed soccer during their lunchtime meetings.
Mason received cautious greetings and gentle jibes from the other members of the football team as Parker introduced him around. His arm never moving from its comfortable resting place across Mason's shoulders.
"Park, you gonna come with us to Fran Baker's? Her folks are out of town and she's throwing a party."
"I'm wacked out, dude. Just gonna crash tonight."
"Park, you gotta go man. Shit, there'll be loads of pussy just for the taking."
"Sorry, bud. Next time maybe. And I wouldn't wanna muscle in on your chances of scorin', cause if I was there, none of you ladies would have a chance of gettin' any."
"Yeah, right," a chorus of voices announced.
"Later," Parker said before steering Mason in the direction of the parking lot.
"You okay?" Mason asked, seeing that Parker was limping.
"Yeah, just a little banged up."
"I noticed how the other team seemed to single you out a lot."
"Yeah, they know I'm the game maker for us, and if they can take me down, then they're more likely to win."
"I was surprised the officials didn't do anything about it."
Parker shrugged. "That's football. Not like the pansy-assed game you play."
Mason stopped walking. He'd hoped Parker wouldn't be like all the other football jocks, always putting down soccer as a lesser sport.
"I'm sorry, bud, it's hanging around those meatheads too much I guess," Parker said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at the locker-room exit. "I didn't mean to upset you. Forgive me?" Parker followed up with a shy smile which instantly melted Mason's heart.
They resumed their walk.
"Soccer's more about skill and tactics, not physical dominance, and. . ."
"It's cool," Parker said squeezing Mason's shoulders.
Stopping next to a somewhat beat up and rusting pick-up truck, Parker tried to flip his duffle bag into the truck bed, but winced at the effort.
"You sure you're all right? Didn't you get the coach or someone to look at your injuries?"
"Nah," Parker said finally achieving his goal.
"Okay, sorry."
"Hey, dude, it's great that you care." The look Parker gave Mason caused the latter's heart to swell. Could Parker mean it in that way, could he be interested in him, could he. . . 'Stop it!' Mason said to himself.
"Wanna grab a burger or something, maybe go through the drive through line so I can get back to my place and have a soak?"
"Uh, sure, whatever you say."
"What are you in the mood for? Mickey D's, Wendy's?"
"Don't mind." Mason didn't care, so long as he could spend more time with Parker.
"Wendy's it is then. Their chili rocks."
"Yeah," Mason said knowing he hated chili.
"Come on, get in. I'm starved."
Reaching the head of the line at the drive-through, Parker asked what Mason wanted. Getting the impression that Parker would be the one paying, Mason said he'd just have a regular cheeseburger.
"The hell you will. Speaking into the microphone, Parker said, "A double Wendy's burger with the works. And a bacon and cheese baked potato and large chili."
Mason was strangely comforted at Parker taking charge. Though he grew concerned when his friend also ordered dessert as well as two large cokes.
"I don't live far, so we'll wait till we get there before we eat," Parker said not asking Mason if it was okay. Anything Parker wanted was okay as far as Mason was concerned.
Parker struggled to get out of his seat when they pulled up outside a run-down apartment block in one of the poorer neighborhoods of town. Averting his gaze from the graffiti adorned walls, Mason waited while Parker fished in his pocket for a key, trying to balance the food in his other hand.
"Shit."
"Please, Parker, give me the food."
Parker did so and soon found his key. Once inside the dimly-lit and musty-smelling vestibule, Mason became distracted from the drab interior by the far more interesting sight of Parker's delicious buns as their owner ascended a flight of stairs.
"Here we are," Parker said stopping outside a heavy solid looking door. "This is home."
The inside of the apartment was clean, but cheaply furnished with mismatched second hand items. Mason made a determined effort not to stare too obviously at his surroundings.
"Mom has to work two jobs, and she won't get back till later," Parker said, hobbling to the kitchen. Climbing the stairs seemed to have made his pain worse.
"I'll dish up, you go and sit down," Mason said, seeing how uncomfortable it was for Parker to remain standing.
"Thanks, dude."
"You sure you shouldn't have seen the coach or the trainer about your leg?"
"It's my ass. Nah, I'll go to bumps and bruises on Sunday morning. Once I've soaked in the tub, I'll be okay."
Mason sighed knowing this wouldn't have been the first time Parker had sustained such injuries.
"Come on, bud, get that food over here."
"Sorry." Mason looked in a couple of cupboards for plates.
"What ya after?"
"Something to put the food on."
"Just bring it over, man, we can eat out of the bag. Save on the cleaning up, too."
Mason realized the Collins' didn't have a dishwasher. He thought everyone had one.
"Sorry."
"Would you quit apologizing?"
"Sorr. . ." Mason giggled as he brought the food containers to the table where Parker was sitting.
"Thanks dude. I'm starved."
The pair ate quickly, Mason was hungrier than he thought.
"This is good," Parker said, wiping a drop of chili from his chin.
"Yeah." Mason leaned back in his chair and eyed Parker.
"Oh man, that was some game."
"Yeah, you were awesome," Mason felt himself redden at how gushing his words sounded.
But Parker didn't seem to notice. "Yeah, did you see that pass in the first quarter, the post route? I put a move on that middle line backer. He was on his ass before he knew it," Parker chuckled.
"Yeah." Mason said, even adding a laugh of his own.
"Then," Parker continued, " that short shuffle pass, shit, that was a broken play. But I turned it into a 25-yard gain. I had great blocking from the other guys so I guess they deserve some of the credit. What do you think, bud?"
"They sure did the job for you,"
"Man, that pass from the shot gun that set up the field goal. I thought ole Henry would never see that I was open. Fuck, I did everything but stand on my head before the jerk figured it out. But, when he did, it was a perfect spiral. I snagged that baby. If I had gotten one more block I would've taken it to the house."
"Yeah, you sure make it look easy." He immediately regretted what he'd just said, remembering Parker's injuries. Of course it wasn't easy. But, once again Parker took his praise in stride. Mason couldn't remember enjoying a meal so much, listening to Parker talking about himself, but somehow not appearing boastful. Mason just hoped he didn't come across as too big a suck up.
"I'm glad you enjoyed the game, man. It meant a lot to me for you to be there."
Mason opened his eyes wide in amazement. He was about to ask what Parker meant, maybe even get some idea of what the hell had been going on with the two of them for the past few days, but as usual he chickened out.
Their meal finished, Parker got to his feet, gathered up the trash and limped towards the trashcan.
"Better think about gettin' you home, dude, then I can have myself a good long soak."
"Yeah." Mason was disappointed that their time together was drawing to a close. He scrabbled around for an idea of how he could spend more time with Parker. Then he thought of something. "Um, we've got a hot tub out back at my place, you're welcome to use it. My folks are out at some charity dinner, so. . . " Why had he said his parents wouldn't be at home? "Um, and the jets might help with your bruises."
"Hey, you sure, man?"
"Course. Wouldn't have offered otherwise."
Parker gave Mason a one armed hug. "You really do care."
Mason opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the words stuck in his throat.
"A session in a hot tub would be great. Thanks, dude."
Mason helped Parker limp back down the stairs and into his truck.
"So, where to, dude?" Parker asked, once he'd coaxed his truck's engine into life.
Mason directed him across town to a leaf-lined street, the houses set back from the road, partially hidden by stone walls and neatly cut hedges.
"This is my house, just pull in by that light pole."
"Wow, guy, you sure live in a classy neighborhood," Parker said admiring his surroundings as he stood on the sidewalk.
"Uh, it's just home. I know I'm lucky to be able to live in a nice place, but, it's just home." Mason dipped his head, he hoped Parker didn't feel too intimidated by the obvious differences in their living arrangements.
"Don't know if I ought to leave my truck here, it might lower the tone, or the property values. . ."
"No, Parker, please don't say that. You're just as good, if not better than any of the people who live here."
"Why thank you, kind sir." Parker bowed low, which caused him to grimace in pain.
"Oh shit, you okay?"
"Yeah. Just got to remember not to take any more bows for a while," Parker said through clenched teeth.
"Come on, lean on me, we'll walk round the side to the deck. Save you having to go through the house."
Parker accepted Mason's offer of help. The close contact with Parker's clean, but slightly sweaty body, was causing Mason to have a reaction in his pants. Mason willed his errant member to behave; he wasn't sure now that inviting the gorgeous football player into his hot tub had been such a good idea. Hopefully he'd be able to keep things under control until he was in the water.
"Just sit on this chair while I get the cover off the tub and start the jets. Shit, you haven't brought a suit. I meant to remind you. I'm not sure if any of mine will fit you."
"Uh, well. . . You sure your parents are out?"
"Yeah, positive. These dinners go on for hours."
"Okay. Then um, well, what say we skinny dip?"
"Huh?" Mason couldn't believe what Parker had said.
"It's not like you haven't seen it before."
Mason turned away and busied himself preparing the hot tub, his mind racing. Why had Parker brought up the subject of what happened in the locker-room now? He didn't seem mad. If anything he looked embarrassed. Mason didn't think Parker would taunt him, after all he'd agreed to come here, he'd not brought a suit, and. . .
"Okay, it's ready. You want to strip off and get in while I go get some towels? Mason said, not able to look Parker in the face.
"Sure, bud, whatever you say."
Mason escaped through the French doors and ran for the linen closet. "Please, God, please don't let me make a fool out of myself," he whispered grabbing a couple of towels. Mason wondered if he'd have time to sneak in a quick jerk off before going back out, but knew he didn't.
Stepping onto the deck, Mason said, "Okay, I've. . ." The rest of his words died on his lips.
Parker was sitting on the ledge, facing the house, his legs wide open. Mason got an uninterrupted view of Parker's penis, it was erect and standing about 45 degrees from the vertical.
Swishing his right leg around in the water, Parker said, "Great hot tub, man."
"Uh." Mason was frozen in place.
"You gonna strip off and get in?"
"Uh," Mason repeated, but still didn't move.
Parker levered himself out of the tub and hobbled toward Mason, his dick bouncing with every step. "It's okay, bud." Parker put a hand on Mason's trembling shoulder. "Trust me, man, it's cool. Come on, get out of those pants, they're looking kinda uncomfortable."
Mason was shocked into movement when Parker reached for the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it up, Mason instinctively lifting his arms to allow the garment to be removed.
Silently Mason toed off his shoes, removed his pants and briefs and stood shaking in front of Parker.
"Much better," Parker said putting an arm around Mason's shoulders and giving him a squeeze. "Help me back to the tub, dude. Sure looks inviting."
However, once Parker had settled himself into the bubbling water, Mason seemed to have reverted back to immobility. He stared at Parker's broad, muscular, but somewhat bruised torso.
"You can look at me just as easily from in here, bud."
Mason felt himself blushing. He'd been caught, but Parker didn't seem to mind. In fact he appeared to relish the adoration.
Once Mason had lowered himself into the water opposite Parker, his fellow bather moved to sit next to him.
Taking hold of Mason's right hand under the water, Parker said, "I bet you've been wondering what the hell's been going on this past week, huh?"
"Um, yeah," Mason said, his mouth strangely dry.
With his free hand, Parker tilted Mason's chin so they made eye contact. "Bet you thought I'd pound the shit out of you at any minute, didn't you?"
Mason swallowed. Was that what Parker was gonna do now? He watched as Parker's face, which wore an expression he was unable to read, closed in. Then Mason was shocked to the core when Parker touched his lips to Mason's slightly parted ones. It was only a brief kiss, but it still resulted in Mason letting out a deep low moan.
"When you checked me out in the locker-room, it was kinda like the answer to my prayers."
Mason didn't respond, he just continued to stare stupidly into Parker's face.
"But I still had to make sure. So I gave you a series of little tests. I'm sorry about deceiving you, but a guy in my position has to be real careful, you know?"
Mason wasn't sure that he did. Then a light bulb went on in his head. "You're gay?" Mason said, loudly.
Parker looked round to see if anyone could possibly have heard. "Yeah, but it's not easy, you know, with me being a jock and all."
"Oh, uh, no." Mason's mind spun. Parker Collins, THE Parker Collins was gay, and was sitting in his hot tub holding his hand. "You, uh." Mason cleared his throat. "These tests you gave me."
"Yeah, bud, I had to be certain that you were actually gay, though that was kinda easy to figure out. I mean all the looks you kept shooting me when you thought I wasn't looking."
Mason blushed.
"Then I had to make sure you wouldn't go telling anyone about me. That's real important."
"Uh, yeah. I can see that it would be."
Parker leaned in for a longer kiss. Pulling back he said, "But you won't tell anyone, will you?"
Mason knew he had to be in a dream, the sort of dream where you knew you were dreaming. He thought he ought to pinch himself, but if it was that kind of dream then doing that probably wouldn't work. He didn't want to take the chance of waking up just in case.
"Mason?" Parker waved a hand in front of Mason's face.
"Huh?"
"You spaced out on me, dude."
"Yeah, sorry. It's just a lot to take in, ya know?"
Parker smiled one of his perfect, heart stopping, swelling orchestral music smiles. "I know. Took me a long time to come to terms with it myself."
"Yeah." Mason shook his head." "Um, but why are you telling me all of this? I mean, you're gorgeous, you could have anyone, hell I bet there'd be a long line of straight guys who'd be willing to turn over and open their legs for you."
Parker laughed. To Mason, it was a beautiful sound, full, rich, heavenly. "You don't get it, do you?"
Mason shook his head. "Get what?"
"I want you, dude. You're fucking awesome."
"Huh?" Mason had never thought he was anything special. He was kinda skinny, his face wasn't bad enough to stop traffic, but he certainly wasn't male model material, and his brown hair was always a mess, no matter what he tried to do with it.
Parker leaned forward, wrapped his arms around Mason and began a serious session of face sucking.
Mason, after a few moments of shock, began to reciprocate, his tongue jousting with Parker's for dominance. Soon Mason gave up the unequal struggle and allowed Parker's tongue entry into his mouth, giving him silent permission to explore.
"Hi, honey, we're home," Mason's mother called from the open French doors.
Parker leaped from Mason, a look of total panic on his face.
To be continued.
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