The Yellow Trunks

     "Alright, I'm here," said Tyler, slightly winded as he threw the bedroom door open, a large duffel bag slung across his back. He had hustled over on foot in the summer heat, jogging the half-mile or so distance to Marek's house at his friend's insistent request. "What's the big fucking rush for, anyway?" he asked, huffing as he heaved the heavy bag off his shoulder and onto the floor where it landed with a soft thud at his feet.

     Marek turned away from the mirror where he had been appraising his reflection intently, leveling his gaze at Tyler, who was eyeing him with suspicion. "Hey, tell me something," he said, turning back to the large mirror atop his dresser. "Do you think I have a nice body? I mean, I know it's nothing compared to yours, but ever since we signed on to do this Cyberfights thing, I've been working out like a madman trying to buff up. Whaddya think?" He then struck a pose in front of the mirror, flexing his arms and bringing them together in front of him, squeezing his pecs as hard as he could. He let out a comically loud growl as he did so, grimacing in a way that he hoped made him look tough, but really just made him look somewhat constipated. 

     "You've got to be kidding me. This is what you made me literally run over here for?" asked Tyler, arching an eyebrow. 

     "Well, no, that's not exactly why, but since you're already here, help a brother out. Come on, I need an honest opinion." he pleaded, turning around to show Tyler his back side and flexing his ass cheeks. "What about my ass? How's that looking? Be honest..."

     Tyler couldn't help but laugh at his friend's display, especially since he had the pair of already-microscopic yellow trunks he was wearing purposely wedged up into his crack, making them cover even less of his lanky frame. "Oh my God, Marek...seriously? It's not like you're gonna be able to wear those for the tapings anyway, so why does it even matter?"

     "Oh, it matters, believe me. And for your information, I do plan on wearing these...well, so long as they make me look hot, that is," Marek retorted, looking back over his shoulder. "So....are you gonna give me a critique or what?" 

     Tyler sighed as he walked over behind Marek and jumped onto the bed, flopping down onto his side and propping himself up on one elbow. He looked his friend up and down as Marek struck several more poses, each more ridiculously exaggerated than the last. "Well, first of all, it would probably help if you didn't have those things jammed up your ass so much. I don't think they're gonna want you looking like a gay banana," he said, chuckling. "Come here," he said, reaching out and hooking a finger beneath the waistband, pulling Marek closer. He ran both index fingers under the trunks and yanked them out of the tight crevice, letting them snap back against Marek's ass cheeks. "That's a little better, at least," Tyler said, a smirk beginning to form on his lips. "Man, I guess you know you're really friends with somebody when you pick their wedgies for them, huh?"

     Marek whipped around, his barely-concealed crotch at eye level. "Come on man, quit stalling. I trust your opinion, so you gotta help me out here. What about this?" he asked, cupping his junk through the thin material. "I wanna make sure at least my cock looks good, you know?"

     A confused look crossed Tyler's face as he watched his friend gently squeezing his package in front of him with an expectant expression. He was starting to get the feeling that there was something Marek wasn't telling him, but he had no idea what that might be. "Why does that matter? You're going there to wrestle, not make a porno, for Christ's sake," he scoffed. 

     "Well, that's not entirely true," Marek replied, his voice hesitant. "That's actually part of the reason why I wanted you to come over. I, uh, found out some more stuff about this gig that I figured you'd probably want to know about ahead of time."

     "Ooookay," Tyler responded, cocking his head quizzically. "You're kinda making me nervous here, buddy. What?"

     Marek turned back to the mirror, unable to look Tyler in the eye as he dropped the bombshell. "It's...kind of like...gay wrestling," he said quietly, looking back at his own face in the mirror. "But, I mean, it's not. Well, it is, but it's not like, porn. It's more like wrestling for dudes who like watching guys like us getting beaten up by other dudes. But there's no nudity or actual sex stuff. It's just supposed to be like...a tease, I guess." 

     Several tense moments passed as Tyler stared blankly at the back of Marek's head, watching him run his hands through his coal-black locks, the curtain of silky hair cascading down his back. Marek sensed his friend's unease and finally turned to face him again, bracing for a response. "So...yeah. That's it. What do you think? Hey, aren't you gonna say anything?" he implored, desperate to break the silence. 

     Tyler continued to stare, squinting at Marek as though he was trying to get a better look at him. "Did you dye your hair?" he asked, quickly changing the subject. "It's like, black now."

     Marek shook his head, not quite able to understand why Tyler was dodging this particular topic of discussion. "Yeah, I did. Why, does it look stupid? Oh God, please say it doesn't look stupid. I can't exactly dye it back now," he said anxiously, turning back to his reflection once again and whipping his head around to flip all of his hair over one shoulder. He pouted into the mirror, admiring his cheekbones, then said, "Whatever. I think it looks great. Now we look like a fucking team. Well, not a fucking team......just a team that....shit...you know what I mean," he blurted out, pinkness blooming across his cheeks as he looked away awkwardly.  

     He crossed the room and picked up the bag up off of the floor, bringing it over next to the bed. He bent down and unzipped it, then hefted it up and dumped its contents out on top of Tyler, suddenly showering him with a rain of wrestling gear. Trunks and tights and assorted pads flew haphazardly around as Tyler sputtered and flailed to get up, but with a mischievous grin Marek suddenly pushed him back down, the worn bed frame creaking noisily under his back. 

     "Look, don't make me sit on you and hold you down until you talk to me, because I will," Marek warned, his voice a shade darker. "And you know it...don't you?" he asked, jabbing his fingertips against Tyler's chest as he continued struggling to right himself. 

     The two caught eyes and Tyler swallowed hard, his heart skipping a beat. He felt a ribbon of shameful pleasure flutter down through his lower extremities at his friend's words and a small groan slipped out before he knew what was happening. Even after Marek removed his hand, he could still feel the points where his fingertips had made contact, burning hotly against his skin even through his sweaty tank top. He slowly lay back down, their eyes still locked in a wordless communiqué as his head hit the pillow.  Finally, Tyler replied nervously, "I....yeah....I know," his voice wavering. "Just let me get up first and I'll talk."

     Marek's smile widened, his eyes flashing with recognition. "Nuh-uhh...talk first, move later," he said decisively, grabbing Tyler by the wrists and pinning them down by his ears. He pounced easily up onto the bed, quickly straddling the reclining boy's chest, and pushed his full weight down onto him. "Start talking," he ordered, glaring.

     Tyler's pulse quickened, and another pulse of sensation shot through him as he tried not to look at Marek's crotch, which was uncomfortably close to his face. "Fine," he hissed, glaring back. "What do I think about it? I think I'm not gay, that's what I think. And for that matter, neither are you.....right?" he asked, his mind trying to stay focused on what to say, but for some reason only able to concentrate on the feeling of Marek's tight grip around his wrists. "I mean, I have a girlfriend. They know that, don't they?" 

     Marek shook his head again, chuckling dryly. "Man....so pretty, yet so naïve," he observed, giving Tyler a couple of quick slaps on the cheek, then pinning his arm back into place. "Obviously we're not gay...we both like girls. BUT....this company wants to pay us some pretty good money to put on a little show, and I dunno about you, but I'm tired of being broke. Like I said, it's not like we have to fuck anybody, they just want us to....you know...be suggestive. And they did mention that the smaller and more revealing shit we wear, the better. That's why I wanted you to come over, by the way. We need to decide on what stuff we're gonna wear, and I figured it'd be better if we pooled everything together, that way there's more to choose from. I mean, we both wear pretty much the same size anyway. So....is that cool?"

     "Well, seeing as how we're already laying in a pile of my underwear, I guess it's gonna have to be," Tyler gasped, his breathing hindered by the weight on his chest. "Now get off me, fucker," he spat, heaving his body upward and knocking Marek off balance, pushing him off and onto the floor where he landed with a thud, disappearing from view.

     When he popped back up a moment later, he had stripped the yellow trunks off and was completely naked save for black boots and leg pads. He casually started pawing through Tyler's belongings, picking up a pair of very small light green trunks and holding them out to look at them. "Damn, these aren't even trunks, man...these are motherfucking man-panties. They're PERFECT!! You definitely need to wear these," he said excitedly, moving them aside. 

     Tyler sat up abruptly, stammering, "W-what are you doing, man? I don't need to see that, for fuck's sake,"  as he tried to tear his gaze away from the lithe body in front of him. "God...why do you have no shame whatsoever?" 

     Marek paused, sighing wearily, then met Tyler's gaze with a look of resigned amusement. "Well, the way I see it is, if you aren't gay, then being around a naked guy, especially a guy you've known for most of your life, shouldn't bother you. And if you are gay, then this should help you get into the right mindset to do this Cyberfights thing. And also, I just don't give a fuck what anybody thinks, to be perfectly honest," he said cockily.

     "This from the guy who calls his friend over to reassure him that his ass looks good," Tyler shot back, smirking. "You're so full of shit."

     Marek shot him an offended glance, mumbling, "Yeah, well at least I'm not trying to be something I'm not."

     "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Tyler asked, his voice raising. "I told you, I'm NOT gay."

     "Yeah, well you're not straight either, but you pretend to be on a regular basis. How is this any different? Oh that's right, nobody's offering to pay you to act straight," Marek said spitefully, knowing he had him right where he wanted him. "Come on, if I can be man enough to admit that I might not be completely, 100 percent straight as an arrow, then I don't see why you can't. Let's not forget about the last time you slept over here, hmm? You want me to hold you down and talk about that for a while? Huh?" he growled, his tone threatening as he started advancing toward Tyler. "Or maybe I can just sit on you naked with my hands around your throat until you make a mess all in your p.j.'s again," he said, placing his fingertips on Tyler's chest and running them slowly up to encircle his neck, pushing him back down as he climbed on top of him. 

     Tyler's heart skipped several more beats as he lay back again, entranced by the commanding sound of Marek's voice and the feeling of his throat being constricted. He blushed madly, squeezing his eyes shut so he didn't have to look him in the face. "Okay, okay...unhh...stopppp," he whined, squirming as he fought against the rising feelings within him. "I guess...maybe I like a little bit more than just girls...but I'm NOT gay, you fuuuu-"

     Marek squeezed harder around Tyler's tender flesh, cutting his words off before he could complete his sentence. "Oh yeah?" he antagonized, stretching his free hand behind him and holding it directly over Tyler's crotch. "And if I put my hand down here, what am I gonna feel right now? Is it gonna be hard? Hmm? Tell me," he snarled, mouth curling up on one side.

     The blush on Tyler's cheeks deepened as he struggled to breathe. He could barely get a good breath in, much less speak. With tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, he simply nodded his head, ashamed of the fact that he couldn't conceal his arousal. 

     "Alright then. So we have an understanding?" Marek questioned, loosening his grip somewhat. "We're gonna do this, right?"

     "Y- yes," gasped Tyler, relieved to be able to breathe again. 

     "Good," Marek replied as he moved off of Tyler's chest and stood back up next to the bed. "Well come on then, let's try some stuff on. Here, let me add mine to the pile," he said, opening the dresser drawer and grabbing an armful of different-colored spandex, throwing the clothing on the end of the bed at Tyler's feet. 

     Tyler lay there for a few moments, rubbing his neck as he regained his composure. He then slunk off the bed and stood silently next to Marek, filtering through their combined gear. He picked up a pair of shiny, leather-look red trunks and scrunched up his nose at them. 

     "Damn, man, these things look like something a male stripper would wear," he joked, looking over at Marek, who was busy adjusting his unit in a pair of obscenely small white briefs with a blue and black "v" shape design on the front. He couldn't help noticing that Marek was hard too, and was having trouble getting his erection to stay in place inside the trunks. "Yeah, so? That's a good thing, remember?" He responded, sounding rather annoyed as he looked at Tyler again. "Try them on."

     Tyler did as he was told, slowly tugging his shorts down and off, turning away shyly so as not to allow his friend to see his obvious hard-on. He stepped into the trunks and pulled them up, struggling to stuff his junk into them and keep it concealed as much as possible. When he turned back around, Marek was watching him, eyes zeroed in on his crotch. "Nice," he said appraisingly, cocking his head, then looking down at his own bulge. "Mine's bigger though," he teased, jutting it in Tyler's direction. "Although I'd gladly give up an inch or so if I could get an ass like yours. I mean look at that thing. Damn. What's your secret, anyway?"

     "Squats," Tyler replied matter-of-factly, pulling his damp shirt off over his head. "Lots and lots of them."

     "Ugh, that's what I was afraid of. I fucking hate working my glutes...I can't deal with my ass hurting so much I can barely walk the next day," Marek grumbled as he slid the white trunks off, his cock bouncing stiffly between his legs.

     Tyler's breath hitched as he tried to think of how to respond to that comment. "Yeah...I dunno, I kind of like that feeling. Makes me feel like it got worked hard. No pain, no gain, as they say, heh heh," he laughed awkwardly, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. 

     "I bet you do," said Marek, smirking as he looked back at him, this time eyeing his body intently. "Look at you. All tight and smooth, and that pretty long hair...fuck, you'd probably make a pretty hot chick with an ass like that," he added, his gaze making Tyler's cock throb uncontrollably. When Tyler turned away from him again to pull on another pair of trunks, Marek's hand wandered down to his own crotch and gripped himself at the base of his dick. As Tyler bent over and his ass came fully into view, Marek openly leered, stroking himself lightly. "Yup...that's an ass nobody could say no to. Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing? Those are MINE!!" He shouted as he saw the yellow trunks he was originally wearing being stretched tightly up over Tyler's rounded ass cheeks. 

     "What?" Tyler asked, trying to act innocent. "You said we should share, and well...I think these look much better on me, don't you?" he said, arching his back and sticking his ass out, looking at Marek over his shoulder. "Come on, you just said yourself that you can't say no to this ass," he teased back, giving it a little wobble in the tiny briefs as Marek stared at the hypnotic sight, still squeezing his hard cock. 

     "NO, you can't have those ones, they're my secret weapon," Marek objected, sounding like he was moments away from throwing a tantrum. "Give 'em back, damn it, you're gonna stretch them all out with your big ass!"

     Tyler smiled even thought his heart was thrumming nervously in his chest. He put his palms down on the edge of the bed and bent over slightly, taking a deep breath and looking back again. "Make me," he said, his eyes dead serious. "I bet you can't."

     Marek let go of his cock, a clear droplet sliding off the head and splattering onto the floor. He muttered something under his breath as he lunged toward Tyler, grabbing him around the waist and heaving them both onto the mattress in a tangle of arms and legs. The wooden frame groaned and creaked obstinately under their combined weight as Marek maneuvered around Tyler, finally ending up pinning him down on his back, legs spread apart and his feet almost up to his ears. He wriggled his way up Tyler's frame, bringing his stiff dick right in front of his face while continuing to hold his legs down. He looked down at the dark-eyed boy beneath him, his eyes alight. "Suck me," he said simply, holding his cock out and touching it to Tyler's lips. "Please?"

     Without a word, Tyler opened his mouth, allowing Marek to push his twitching length inside. He moaned loudly as he felt his aching flesh being encompassed by that warm, sucking orifice. "Fuuuckkk, that feels so fucking good, oh my Goddd..." he trailed off, his hips thrusting forward and jamming more of his meat into Tyler's accommodating mouth. He started to pump in and out slowly at first, but his movements quickly gained speed as he grew more excited. He reached behind him, running his hand over Tyler's ass and fondling his throbbing cock inside the yellow trunks. "You better not be making a big wet spot on those," he cajoled as he gave him a couple of hard spanks on the ass. 

     Tyler moaned plaintively around Marek's dick, his hips arching upward. As much as his body was enjoying it, his mind was still having difficulties accepting the fact that he couldn't control it at all. To make matters worse, Marek had discovered his big secret, and he was exploiting it for all it was worth. At that moment, he burned with an intense hatred for his best friend for taking advantage of him in this way, but also gratitude for his gift of understanding Tyler far better than he did himself. His eyelids fluttered closed, and he relaxed a bit, craning his neck down to get more of Marek inside. 

     "Oooooohh, wow," Marek hissed, sucking air into his lungs as he pulled back suddenly, withdrawing his pulsing cock. "You're almost too fucking good, you little slut. But I bet I can do it better," he said with a cocky grin. Spinning around, he let Tyler's legs drop and straddled his head in one controlled motion. He got down on all fours and stuffed his hand inside the yellow trunks, yanking Tyler's cock from its tight confines. He showily licked a wet stripe of saliva from the tip of Tyler's cock down to the base and then reversed direction and came back up, his moans buzzing against hardened flesh.

     Tyler shuddered helplessly, gasping at the intensity of the sensation on his needy cock. "Fuck...unhh....please," he whined, grinding himself against Marek's tongue.

     "Put my dick back in your mouth first, slut," Marek growled, reaching down and slipping his wet cock back between Tyler's lips. Tyler moaned loudly and squirmed harder, and Marek knew he was on to something. "Yeah...that's a good little slut mouth," he rasped as that delicious suction engulfed him again and he began to thrust urgently. "So good...'cause you're a good slut, right? Take my fucking cock, slut..."

     Marek greedily sucked Tyler's desperately hard cock into his mouth just as he started to come, his  dick pulsing hard as his curses dissolved into rapturous cries and he shook uncontrollably. Tyler's body tensed as the word "slut" rang in his head and he tasted his friend's release coating his tongue. Marek's moans filled him with a maddening crescendo of vibration that coursed down his spine and shot out of him, his cock forcefully spraying the inside of Marek's mouth with his hot load. He bucked and kicked as he rode it out, his heart racing and his breathing erratic. Once he had come down somewhat, Marek flopped off onto the bed next to Tyler, pushing his hair back out of his face.

     "Holy fuck....that was...I don't even know," said Marek, huffing between breaths. 

     "Fucking awesome?" Tyler offered, questioning him with an exhausted smile.

     "Huh....yeah, you could definitely say that, he replied, his breathing still labored. A few long moments passed in silence, and then he spoke again, this time more earnestly. "Hey, uh.......I guess you can wear those, he said, gesturing toward the yellow trunks that were now wet with saliva and sweat. "They do look better on you."

     "Thanks," said Tyler, reaching out to slap Marek's thigh. "Your ass looked pretty damn hot in them too, you know."

     "Oh I know," Marek replied, "which is why I plan on getting them back from you just as soon as our match is over. Even if I have to strip them off you against your will," he said with a hint of malice in his voice.

     Tyler shuddered involuntarily, then propped himself up on one arm, shaking it off. "I'd like to see you try," he said in a low voice, his gaze serious again.

     "Oh I will," Marek responded, getting up and moving closer, returning Tyler's gaze.

     "Oh...I know," Tyler shot back, closing the distance between them.

     "Fucking slut," whispered Marek, his eyes focused on Tyler's lips as he ran his hand up the back of Tyler's neck and wound his fingers through his long, wavy hair.

     "You're damn right," Tyler replied, their lips finally meeting in a sensuous kiss.

     

     

     

     

     

    

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

   

Teamwork: Chapter 15

     Dean swallowed hard, his face blanching at the sight of Roman, who was glaring at him, eyes ablaze. "Are you sure? I- I mean...you look like you could use a break too...heh heh," he laughed nervously, not quite able to maintain eye contact. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair, pushing it away from his face, giving Ro the closest imitation of innocence as he could muster.

     Ro leaned over the bed, reaching out and roughly tousling Dean's hair again, making it fall back down over his eyes. "You're cute when you're scared, you know that?" he said, half-smiling. He took Dean by the chin and pulled him closer, making him have to crawl over the mattress to the foot of the bed on his hands and knees to where Ro was standing. 

     Dean came up off of his hands to face Roman, but due to his kneeling position, he only came up to the larger man's chest. Ro looked down at him, loose spirals of inky hair cloaking his chiseled cheekbones. He tilted Dean's head up, forcing him to look into his eyes. 

     "Tell me you want me. I wanna hear you say it."

     Dean looked away again, but Roman tugged on his chin and snapped him back into place. "What's the matter? First you didn't want it, then you did, and now what? I'm supposed to believe you don't again now?" he chided, sneering. "I know you...I've never seen anybody in my life who wanted to get speared as bad as you do. Tell me," he said again, pulling Dean's hot, naked body against him and quickly slipping his tongue into Dean's half-open mouth before he had the chance to react.

     As soon as their lips connected, Dean let out a slight whimper, suddenly feeling small compared to the big man in front of him. Roman chuckled a little as they continued the kiss, taking Dean's arms and wrapping them around his midsection. He brought his hands down Dean's back ever-so-slowly, fingers following the contours of his muscled figure, pausing when they reached his voluptuous ass to squeeze both cheeks simultaneously. 

     The sudden squeeze made Dean flinch and a pleading moan escape him. Ro broke off the kiss just as he felt Dean starting to give in, but kept a firm grip on his behind, pressing his hardness between them even though they were still separated by a layer of fabric. He looked down and saw Dean's blue eyes swimming in their sockets.

     "Dean," he said softly, trying to snap him out of his daze. "Tell me. I'm not going to ask you again." He could feel Dean's whole body vibrating as he held him tightly. 

     "I.....can't I just show you?" was Dean's halting response. As much as he wanted to say it, as much as his body was screaming for it, the words just wouldn't come out. He wanted so badly to give himself over to Roman, to just offer himself up to be ravaged, but he knew he couldn't. Ro was going to have to take it from him. That was just how it was going to have to be.

     Dean felt his face growing hot and he knew he was blushing. He began to lick and kiss Ro's exposed chest, nuzzling his face against those glorious pecs as his hands slid down and groped Roman's posterior through his pants at the same time. His tongue found Ro's small nipple and he lapped up over it, then blew gently across the wet trail of saliva, sending a chill through the man standing over him. 

     Roman's head fell back as he let Dean touch him, sucking in air sharply when Dean's maddeningly soft mouth closed around his hard nipple and sucked, sending instant bolts of hot, tingling sensation to his very ready cock. He twined his fingers through Dean's hair, pulling his head back and looking deeply into his eyes. 

     "I know, baby," Ro said on a voice just above a whisper, "I'm gonna give you what you need so you can let go. Ok? I got you." 

     Upon hearing those words, Dean looked up, eyes glistening in the dim light. He attempted to speak, but the raw emotion welling up within him was threatening to spill forth like a tidal wave. Instead, he simply nodded, turning his head and resting it against Roman's solar plexus, hearing his heart pounding in time with his own. He gripped Ro's waist tighter, desperately wanting to stay safe and sheltered in those powerful arms forever, but the Samoan had other ideas. 

     "Ok then," Roman said decisively, turning around and sitting down on the end of the bed, grabbing Dean by the arm and hauling him up and over his lap. "You know what's coming. Get down there and get comfortable, because you're gonna be there a while." He pushed down on Dean's back, making him slide face-down across his thighs, legs splayed apart. Dean grunted when his rigid length pressed against Ro's leg, and he looked back at him, unsure of what to do next. 

     Roman caught him looking and threw him a stern, yet amused glance. "You know better than that. Eyes down." Dean immediately dropped his head, staring down at the floor as his pulse quickened in anticipation. "Much better," Ro said, running his hand up the back of Dean's leg and up over his round ass, enjoying the feel of his remarkably soft skin. 

     He wasted no time getting down to business, bringing one of Dean's legs between his own and keeping the other on the outside so he couldn't close them, spreading them farther apart. More groans came from the blond man's mouth as the jostling increased the friction on his straining erection.                   

     "Please...Mr. Reigns..." Dean begged, "I'm ready..."

     Ro paused and made an odd face, then said, "No. You call me Roman. I want you to remember exactly who did this to you." His hands massaged Dean's ass cheeks firmly, then pulled them apart. He traced his index finger in a small circle around the tiny pink pucker nestled between them. "Say it."

     "Roman...please..." Dean pleaded, feeling more vulnerable than ever. He clutched at Ro's leg, still trembling, waiting for what was coming. 

     The next thing Dean felt was cold lubricant being spread into his ass crack, and Roman's fingers rubbing his asshole firmly until the liquid became warm and very slippery. He squirmed at the unfamiliar sensation, but Ro used his free arm to dig his elbow into Dean's back, holding him in place. 

     "Mmm, I like the sound of that coming from you. Say it again," Ro commanded, putting more pressure on Dean's slick entrance, but not trying to penetrate him just yet. Dean gasped out loudly, not sure about exactly what was happening back there, but positive that he wanted it to continue. In his excitement he had started to grind his crotch against the leg beneath him, and Ro caught on to it immediately. He raised his hand and gave Dean's ass a hard slap, causing him to flinch and emit a pained whine. "What. Did. I. Just. SAY??" Ro growled, punctuating each word with another slap, making Dean start to sweat and squirm more as his rear end grew warm and tingly.

     "Roman....fucckk..." Dean panted, the stimulation quickly becoming overwhelming. "I- I'm...sorry."

     "No you're not," Ro replied coldly, smirking. "And neither am I."

     With that, Ro teased the tip of his finger into Dean's virgin hole, pressing it in slowly but firmly, a sustained moan slipping from Dean's mouth as the thick digit forced him open. His breathing started coming in staccato huffs as Roman began to work his finger in and out, and he trembled harder as he fought the urge to squirm away from it. 

     "Yeah, that's good, baby," Ro said reassuringly, leaning over and parting Dean's cheeks more so he could have a clearer view. "Such a pretty little ass. Certainly looks like it could take my cock, but let's see how well it stretches, shall we?" he said before pressing a second finger in slowly and working them in unison. Dean's moans broke into a higher register when Ro's fingers purposely grazed his prostate, and he blushed harder, both sets of cheeks now a ruddy pink. 

     "So, Dean, who's gonna take this? Huh?" Ro asked, fingers pumping in and out steadily. His own arousal was ramping up as he felt that incredibly smooth, tight tunnel clenching around them. He groaned as Dean continued to shake in his lap, his aching hard-on absolutely desperate to be put to use. 

     Dizzy with excitement, Dean had a difficult time focusing on speech. He hesitated a moment too long, and Ro pulled his fingers out suddenly and smacked him on the ass, holding his hand there and squeezing hard. 

     "Roman! Ahh God," he yelped a little too loudly, his head snapping up in shock as he grimaced.

     Ro laughed to himself, pleased. He jammed both fingers back in, turning his wrist and shifting to a corkscrewing motion. Dean's legs reflexively tried to clamp together, but due to his position he was unable to keep Ro from doing as he wished. 

     "Uh huh, you're damn right I am," Roman said, "but just so you know, I am not fucking you until you tell me you want it...until you tell me you want ME." He gritted his teeth and drove both fingers into Dean's asshole right up to the last knuckle. Dean cried out loudly, his eyes opening to see Seth in front of him, eyeing him with a mixture of envy and barely-restrained desire. "Oh, look who's back for more," Ro said, acknowledging Seth, who had crawled up and was kneeling next to him on the bed. 

     "I knew you couldn't miss this, kitten," Ro purred, turning his head to face the eager boy beside him. "You ready for a little payback now?"

     "Ohhhh, yesss," hissed Seth, mouth twisting into a snarl as he looked down at Dean's prone body hungrily.

     Roman laughed under his breath, then smiled. "Alright, but come here and kiss me first while I spread this cute little ass some more." He held his hand steady, fingers still buried in Dean's tight passage as Seth immediately attacked his face, latching onto Roman's mouth and thrusting his tongue deeply inside, holding his face tightly between his hands and moaning. 

     After a few hot moments, Ro pulled back, breaking the kiss, considerably more winded than before.  "Damn, you are just insatiable, aren't you, you big fucking slut?" He said to Seth, teasing. 

     Seth flipped his hair back, looking at Roman and then down at Dean again, his eyes lingering on the ass perched invitingly on Ro's lap. "You have no idea," he answered, licking his lips eagerly.

     "Well, maybe you should show me then," said Ro, starting to pump his fingers in and out of Dean's ass once more, the moans and writhing continuing as he held Seth's gaze. "You wanna help me get this ready?" he asked, knowing without a doubt what the answer would be.

     "Fucccckkk yesssssss, Mr. Reigns, I do...sooo bad," Seth responded, leaning back a bit to display his still raging hard-on, holding it at the base and squeezing it until it twitched and leaked out a small amount of clear fluid. He sucked in his breath as a twinge of pleasure shot through him. "I am so ready."

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    

     

     

     

     

     

     

Personal Business

     Dean woke up unusually early on his day off, especially considering how late he had gotten home from the airport the night before. Bright, irritating sunlight was already beginning to stream into his darkened bedroom through the gaps in the blinds, the diagonal strips of golden light illuminating his nude form and rousing him against his will. As his eyes fluttered open, he immediately became aware of a very familiar presence in the room with him. Namely, a morning hard-on that had apparently been up for much longer than he had. 

     Groaning, he rolled onto his back, his hand wandering down to his crotch. He debated on getting up to take a leak but he knew as soon as he wrapped his fingers around it that this wasn't a piss hard-on. He had been on the road for the last few days, and between work and sharing a hotel room with another person, he hadn't had much opportunity to take care of what he liked to call "personal business". And at that moment, his personal business had decided this was a perfect time to be taken care of. 

     Gripping himself and stroking lightly, Dean let out an unexpected moan. It seemed his cock was way ahead of him, as it was already leaking out a wet, sticky spot onto his stomach. He rubbed his thumb over the head, spreading the wetness around. An involuntary shiver coursed through him as he touched that sensitive spot. He knew what had to be done, but he was feeling way too groggy to find suitable porn clips online to jerk off to. 

     Closing hs eyes, he tried searching his imagination for stored spank bank material as his hand moved lazily up and down his shaft. Many images flashed through his mind's eye, some only lasting a split second and others lingering, seemingly demanding to be acknowledged. He attempted to focus on one image in particular, which happened to be the ultra-fine ass of the Divas champion. 

     Being an undisputed ass man, Dean had spent quite a few lonely evenings with the company of his hand and some scandalously dirty thoughts about that ass of hers. Sure, she was a bit young for his usual tastes, but her ridiculously tight behind in those painted-on cut-offs more than made up for it. That, and those damn knee socks. It had gotten to the point where just running into her backstage before a show dressed in her ring gear would be enough to make him unbearably hard. All he could think about was having that ass spread in front of him, so tiny and pert and flawless, just waiting to be drilled hard by his oh-so-eager cock. What he wouldn't have given to be able to feel the heat from inside that exceedingly tight channel as his dick stretched it open, forcing it to accept his girth.

     Dean held his breath for a second as he felt a rush of energy flood into his pelvic area, heavy and warm, giving him butterflies in his stomach. His cock twitched in his hand, and he knew then that he had something he could definitely work with. "Yeah, I'm gonna cum in that ass, baby," he mumbled aloud to his imaginary AJ, his eyes still closed, hand starting to move faster between his legs.

     In his half-awake state, Dean's mind was not yet engaged enough to stay consciously focused, and after a couple of minutes, it started to wander away from his self-imposed fantasy. Slowly the image of AJ's ass began to fade, his attention drawing itself inward to a deeper level, where some of his filthier thoughts and desires lay buried. Before long, he found himself thinking about what it must feel like to be stretched wide open like that. To have a pair of large, strong hands wrapping tightly around his throat, his lusty moans being snuffed out by the lack of oxygen to his lungs, his body submitting against his own will. 

     Suddenly Dean caught himself, shaking his head to try to clear that image from his mind. He hadn't planned on beating off while fantasizing about getting dominated and fucked, as he had originally intended to bust a nut to AJ. Plus, that was just weird. He kept his eyes closed in concentration, trying to make her appear again, but every time he did after that, his dick would protest, refusing to work with him. 

     He finally opened his eyes, lifting his head up and slapping his cock, looking at it as though it had betrayed him. "Come on, what the fuck?" he growled at it, trying to wake it out of its lethargic state. Surprisingly, that slap did wake it up somewhat, and a few firm strokes later he was back in business. As he delved back into his mind, his train of thought made a sharp detour right back to where it had left off. The slap he gave himself had awoken his pain-slut tendencies, the stinging in his cock giving him a little taste of the endorphins he loved so much. 

     He let out a resigned sigh, deciding to let his mind go wherever it wanted to go. It's not like there was anyone there to see it anyway. Might as well just go with it...it's just a fantasy, he thought to himself, relaxing a bit more, hand still working on his cock.

     As soon as he closed his eyes once more, another image manifested itself, one that caused Dean to blush shamefully, but also made his dick surge and grow harder and larger in his hand. It was him again. That bastard was invading his mind, and worst of all it was turning him on immensely. 

     God, why does that asshole have to be so damn good-looking, he wondered internally as the vision came into clearer view. Gorgeous, long, dark hair, piercing eyes that defied any attempt to categorize their color, his commanding stature...he had the type of genetic perfection that couldn't be bought or manufactured. In Dean's mind, he was naked, his body a masterpiece of sculpted muscle and wet, bronzed skin. Dean's concentration went to the area between the fantasy man's legs, and slowly his brain materialized a cock that he assumed was representative of the real thing, as Dean had shared a many locker room shower with him in the past and had seen enough to know that it was by no means small. His brain locked in on it, focusing on every detail, fleshing out the thick, veined shaft and the glistening, ridged glans, just a tinge darker in color than the rest of it.

     Dean bit his lip, tugging on himself harder, still blushing but quickly getting worked up enough to not care. His breath came in little gasps, between which he held his breath. He soon started to get a little lightheaded from the erratic breathing, but his dick responded by leaking a lewd amount of pre-cum and throbbing hard. He grunted and writhed on the bed, imagining that man physically overtaking him and making him his bitch. "Fuuuccckkkk," he hissed, disappointed that he couldn't quite replicate the feeling of being choked out with hands like that on his own.

     Or could I? Dean wondered. Eyes suddenly snapping open, he sat bolt upright in bed and jumped off, landing gracefully in front of the closet. He flung the doors open and rummaged around, retrieving a beaten-up shoebox from the upper shelf. He flipped the lid off, grabbing the contents and dropping the rest of the box on the floor. 

     It was a black leather collar, to which was attached a length of heavy steel chain. It had been a memento of his hardcore days, a collar that he had actually worn in a match. It was still crusted in his own dried blood. He hadn't looked at it in a long time, but it was perfect for his needs at that moment. Dean wasted no time in putting it on and tightening it down, purposely securing it one notch too snug. His pulse quickened as he realized the inherent danger in what he was about to do, but that only made his dick throb even more. With trembling hands, he looked around for a place to secure the other end of the chain. 

     After scanning the room quickly, he decided the use the doorknob. It was low enough that if he were to accidentally pass out, he wouldn't hang himself. He crudely knotted the chain around the knob, giving it a couple of good tugs to make sure it would hold. Once he had it all in place, he sank down onto his knees in front of the door, leaning away from it until the chain snapped tight. 

     Dean gasped as he felt the collar bite into his neck, the sensation immediately bumping the tension in his cock up a notch. He moaned, a long, low noise, full of frustrated desire. Spreading his legs a bit, he grabbed his dick and started to stroke it more urgently. In his excitement, he had broken into a sweat, beads of perspiration running down his face and bare chest. 

     There he was again. As soon as Dean felt that delicious constriction around the front of his throat, his eyes closed and Ro was back, this time behind him, holding the other end of the chain and grinning that fucking irresistible smile of his.  Dean's breath hitched and he leaned harder into the chain, dropping down onto one hand, the other busily working his engorged unit as his vision started to grow fuzzy around the edges. "Unhhh fuck, yeah, give it to me," he gasped aloud to fantasy Ro, imagining his beautiful hands choking the life out of him as he simultaneously speared him on that fantastic cock. 

     Rocking back and forth on his hands and knees, Dean visualized Roman fucking him relentlessly, laying claim to Dean's ass by pounding it to fit perfectly to his contours and no one else's. He whimpered as he started to see dark spots appearing in his field of vision, his mind afloat on a sea of dopamine. The collar resisted his struggle, the wide leather strap rubbing the skin red underneath it. The pain only excited him more, lightning bolts of twisted pleasure shooting straight to his throbbing cock. 

     Just then, Dean happened to look down at the floor and saw what looked like red polka dots, directly below him. A moment later a droplet fell from his chest and landed, and he realized it was blood. He reached up to his face to see if his nose was bleeding, but it wasn't that. His hand traveled to his neck to adjust the collar, and when he looked at his fingers afterward, they were red. The dried blood on the collar had reconstituted when it mixed with his sweat, and it had been dripping down his torso as he pleasured himself, blissfully unaware. 

     Dean quickly removed his hand from his dick and swiped it across his chest, smearing the blood in a wet stripe over his pecs. He laughed weakly, leaning even more of his weight against the chain, and brought his hand back to his hard cock. Looking down, he reveled in the sight of his blood-covered hand gripping his throbbing meat, and groaned deep in his throat, pulling the collar even tighter as he laid into it. 

     The Roman in his head was stroking him now, still stuffing his ass with cock while reaching around him with his beautifully tattooed arm. The collar was his hot mouth, teeth biting into the tender, inflamed skin of his throat, deep growls emanating from between his lips.

     Dean was on the verge of blacking out, his heartbeat pounding hard in his ears and his hand working furiously on his insistent cock. He had to make this happen quick or he was going to lose consciousness. He tried with all his might to focus on the fantasy, holding onto Roman so as not to let him disappear. 

     Suddenly, Dean lost his footing, dropping face down onto the floor, his ass still in the air. The chain rattled as it snapped tight again and Dean's heart jumped in his chest. He instinctively gripped himself harder and stroked faster, and within moments he was crying out, his moans strangled by the tight leather around his neck. 

     He shuddered, his surging cock gushing out a copious load of pearly jizz all over his bloody fingers. "Oh God Ro, you're so fucking good," he cried hoarsely to the otherwise empty room, feeling like he was watching himself from outside his body. "Sooo fucking good, baby. You ARE the man..." he said as he slumped back against the door, exhausted yet utterly satisfied.

     

     

     

Fanboy Hell: Chapter 4

     Punk looked at Roman, his eyes searching the Samoan's face for some sign of empathy, hoping there might still be a chance of convincing him to be reasonable. In response, he got a condescending sneer and a quick slap across the face. 

     "The FUCK you lookin' at, bitch? Did I stutter?" Ro antagonized, grabbing Punk by the chin and pulling his face up closer to him. 

     In a last-ditch effort to save himself, Punk decided to change tactics. With pleading eyes, he asked, "I suppose there's no way I can talk you out of this, is there?"

     Ro smirked, licking his lips and stroking his hard meat upward until a clear stream of fluid leaked out and trailed slowly down his shaft. "What do you think?" 

     Punk swallowed hard. "You guys are just gonna...use me...aren't you?"

     "Oh, you make it sound like you're not gonna enjoy it." Ro replied, leaning forward, his face inches from Punk's. "How about this- if you want me to stop, all you have to do is say so, and I'll stop."

     Punk looked at him skeptically. "That's it? Just say 'stop'? For real?"

     "Uh-huh," Roman said, his voice softening, his eyes locked on Punk's mouth. He suddenly leaned in and kissed him, their lips fusing together in a heated exchange of crackling energy. Romans tongue searched Punk's mouth posessively, trying to eradicate any remaining resistance to which he might have been clinging. 

     Punk's body twitched helplessly between the larger man's feet, overwhelmed by the rush of endorphins that struck him like a bolt of lightning. When Roman finally pulled back, he looked at Punk's face again, smiling. Punk's eyes were closed in submission, his mouth still open as though he was waiting for more.

     "That's right," Ro purred, "but good luck saying stop when that pretty mouth is full of my cock."

     He sat back and held out his cock with one hand as he brought Punk's head forward with the other. As those lips made contact and slid slowly down Ro's pulsing length, he let out a long, guttural groan, relieved to finally be getting some action of his own. Punk tried to relax his mouth in order to accommodate Roman's thick cock, but he only got a couple inches past the head before it was hitting his unconditioned gag reflex. He pulled his head back, coughing, the salty taste of Ro's pre-cum still on his tongue.

     Ro slid a hand through Punk's sweaty hair, bringing it down to the side of his face. "Just suck it slow...you can lick it first if you want to," he said softly. Punk sighed, then began to cover Roman's stiff dick from bottom to top in kisses and licks, alternating between the two as Ro moaned. Once his member was sufficiently wet, he pushed his cock head back into that sweet mouth and Punk started sucking again, this time managing to at least do it without choking. 

     "Mmmmm...much better, baby," Ro praised, running the backs of his fingers against Punk's cheek, feeling his own cock stuffing its way into that mouth repeatedly through the thin membrane. "Yeah, you're taking it nice now."

     Something about Roman calling him "baby" awakened an odd feeling inside Punk, some kind of deep, burning need to please that he wasn't at all familiar with. Whatever it was, he knew that he really wanted to hear that word (and possibly other, sexier words) fall from that beautiful man's lips, and he was willing to do whatever it took to bring them out. He slurped wetly on the head of Ro's cock, looking up at him in awe, blushing.

     "Fuuuuuck, that is soooo hot," Seth growled, having been watching them the whole time as Dean plowed his insatiable ass next to them on the couch. "Can I have some too? Pleeeeease? I won't be greedy this time, I promise," he pleaded, asking both Dean and Roman at the same time. "I can share," he said, smiling expectantly. 

     Ro and Dean exchanged glances for a moment, communicating something silently between them. Dean slowly pulled out of Seth's clutching passage and pulled back on his hips, yanking him off the couch and onto the floor right next to Punk. Roman stood back up, pushing his pants down and off, and tossing them aside. He then sat back down, parting his legs wider to allow both boys access to his cock. 

     "Ok, now you better behave this time," Roman warned, looking at Seth while pulling him toward his twitching meat. "That means take turns...got that, you fucking cock slut?" he said, slapping Seth's cheek affectionately.

     Seth grinned, nuzzling his face into Roman's palm. "Yes, I promise. I'm gonna suck it so good for you, you have no idea," he said, eyes darting back and forth between Ro's face and his cock. 

     "I know you will, baby," Ro replied. "Now show your little boy toy how it's done."

     Without another word, Seth lunged at Roman's waiting cock, wrapping his hungry mouth around it and sucking it down, moaning as his eyes closed in delicious surrender. Ro's breath caught in his throat as he felt his aching hardness being engulfed in that wet, squirming warmth, and his head fell back against the couch. "God fucking dammit, that's good," he said breathlessly.

     "Yeah, he's a good little whore for the most part," Dean chimed in, kneeling down behind both boys and surveying the two perfectly positioned asses in front of him. "But I wanna get my dick up in this," he said, running a hand over the lower curve of Punk's backside. He quickly tugged Punk's pajama pants off, leaving him naked save for the intricate webbing of black rope framing his tattooed chest and securing his arms behind his back. 

     Dean moved behind Punk, cracking his knuckles and flexing his hands before placing them on both sides of his ass and squeezing. Punk laid his head against Roman's thigh and looked back, biting his bottom lip. "Do it. I'm ready," he said, unprovoked. 

     "Oh really," Dean shot back, eyes widening in surprise. "Well isn't this a turn of events. What, all it took was a taste of the big man's magic dick, and suddenly you're begging for cock?" he chortled, highly amused at his own cleverness.

     "Well if I remember correctly, that's what happened to you, wasn't it?" Roman piped up, grinning smugly. Dean's head snapped up and he shot Ro a betrayed glance, grumbling something to himself and backing up slightly with a scowl on his face. 

      "Stick that ass up, bitch," he ordered Punk, smacking him on the cheek, his hand leaving a red print. Punk complied, spreading his legs and arching his back. 

     Dean brought his head down and licked his way up Punk's ass crack, biting him on the haunch and drawing a plaintive whine from him. Dean growled low in his throat and dove in, his mouth eagerly working on the tight, flexing knot, making Punk shudder with pleasure. He brought his hand between Punk's legs and gripped him by his leaking cock, stroking it as he made sure that hole was good and wet.

     Ro pulled Seth off his dick, making him whine as he reluctantly relinquished his meaty prize, his mouth shiny with spit as he let go. "Ok, now share," he said, taking it away and bringing his attention to Punk, who was panting quietly and licking the inside of Ro's thigh.

     "Come on baby, suck that dick some more," Ro urged, looking into Punk's eyes and smiling. Upon hearing that word come from Roman's mouth, that strange feeling washed over him again, the yearning inside him quickly reaching an apex. He took that cock back into his mouth and sucked it eagerly as Seth encouraged him.

     "Yeah, suck that fucking thing...come on, you can fit more than that in there," he said, not waiting for him to end his turn before sticking his head down between Ro's legs and working on his balls and whatever parts of his shaft he could reach with his tongue. 

     Dean finally pulled back and brought his hard cock up to the small puckered hole, rubbing it around briefly before starting to push in, penetrating straight through Punk's clenching ring of muscle as he cried out in shock."Yeah, you're gonna take this good, aren't you, Punky bear?" Dean asked, holding still for a moment to allow him to get used to it.

     "Oh God yes," Punk breathed, "Fuck me, just fucking do it. Use me. I...I need it so fucking bad."

     "Well, with a response like that, how can I say no? Besides, we gotta keep the two of you satisfied from now on so you won't go run off and find some other cock, right Roman?" Dean said, eyeing his cohort with a smirk. 

     "Hey, if that's what it takes," Ro replied, smirking back. "Now fuck this little slut's ass before he loses his fucking mind, willya?

     "Noooo problem," Dean said, sliding himself the rest of the way in.

     

     

     

Growing Up is Hard

     Roman was most of the way home when he got the call. He picked up his phone and looked at the screen, and a smile crossed his face. Of course it was Seth. He always got so excited when Roman would come home from college because it meant he got to see him again. Roman chuckled to himself. That boy was always so eager. He answered it, his voice calm and knowing. "Hi Sethie, yes, I'm almost there."

     Seth's heart jumped at the sound of his name flowing from Roman's mouth. He had been calling him that since Seth was a little kid, but now that Ro was also older and had blossomed into an impossibly gorgeous young man with a deep, powerful voice, everything he said sounded like warm honey: sweet and thick. "ROMIE!!!" Seth excitedly shouted into the phone, "Are you here yet?"

     Roman winced and held the phone away from his ear. When he brought it back, he said, "Ok, two things: one, how many times do I have to tell you, DON'T call me Romie, and two, if you had actually listened, you would have heard me say I'm almost there already."

     Sheesh, Roman thought to himself. This kid. Never seen anybody get worked up like him. 

     Seth giggled, his still-childlike voice not yet having gained a more masculine timbre. "I'm sorry, I'm just so happy you're here....well, that you're coming....uhm, I mean...you know what I mean," he trailed off awkwardly. "I'm just....I'll try to remember....Roman." He giggled again, sighing. 

     "So was that all you wanted to talk to me for? I'm kinda driving right now," Ro said somewhat impatiently. 

     "Uhhh.....yeah, I guess," Seth answered, suddenly realizing he didn't know what else to say. At least not anything he could say out loud, anyway.

     "I'll come over to see you after I get home and have a chance to get situated a bit, ok? Should be there in about an hour." Ro said, trying to wrap things up.

     "Oh....ok." Seth replied, a touch of melancholy in his voice. "I guess I'll just...hang around until you have time."

     Roman rolled his eyes, smiling. He knew this game. "Sethie, what have I told you about being patient?"

     Seth sighed. "Good things come to those who wait, I know. But..."

     "But what?" Roman asked.

     "Well...how come I can't call you Romie, but you still get to call me Sethie?"

     Ro chuckled. "Because you're the little one."

     "I AM NOT LITTLE!!!" Seth shouted, his shrill whine threatening to tear Romans eardrum.

     "Ok, geez," Roman replied, "I guess you're not little anymore, are you? Well, you'll always be little Sethie to me, so I guess you just have to deal with it. Look, I'll talk to you when I get home. I gotta go."

     "Ok...I'll be waiting," Seth said, his voice tinged with hope. "Bye...Roman." 

     "Later, kiddo," Ro replied, hanging up but still smiling. As much as it would kill him to admit it, he loved knowing there was someone who was always happy to see him. He loved college life, but sometimes with all the classes, athletics, and meeting new people, he found himself wishing for the familiar comforts of home. He was really glad to be coming back for winter break so he could relax and get some much-needed rest, even if he still had to go back early for more grueling football practice. He knew Seth would be turning himself inside out waiting for him, but he was tired and sore and really needed to shower first. He just needed to get home and then he'd figure it out from there.

      Seth sat staring at the phone for a few moments after hanging up. His heart sank when Roman called him little, and he was embarrassed that he wasn't able to hold back a temper tantrum, which just served to prove Ro's point even more. He walked over to the full-length mirror in his bedroom, appraising himself. He ran his hand under his shirt, touching his abs and lifting it up.

      Granted, he was a bit more muscular now, since he had been secretly lifting weights over the last couple of months in an attempt to look more like a man and less like a slightly boyish-looking girl, but thanks to a raging teenage metabolism, he couldn't put weight on to save his life. Instead of a thick, defined six-pack and bulging muscles like Roman's, Seth's body was lithe and small, his abdomen sleek and smooth, with just a line down the middle defining the underlying musculature.

      His hips were still narrow, but thanks to his burgeoning obsession with doing squats, his backside was becoming more rounded and firm. Even so, he still thought it looked like a girl's butt, and apparently the other kids at school did too, because he was getting teased about it constantly. It seemed like no matter what he did to try to be more like what he thought a man was supposed to be, he still couldn't gain the respect of his peers, or apparently Roman either. 

     He walked back to his bed and flopped dramatically onto it, falling back onto a pile of stuffed animals. He grabbed one and looked at it. It was a black cat, one that Roman had won for him at a carnival some years ago. There was no doubting the fact that Ro spoiled him, and Seth always ate it up. He loved feeling like he was special to someone, especially since it happened to be a guy like Roman. He was everything Seth wanted to be but knew he wasn't: tall, rugged, commanding. So perfect. Seth closed his eyes and hugged the stuffed kitten tightly, as though he was trying to squeeze some more of those good feelings out of it. 

     He looked at the clock. An hour. He knew he wasn't going to be able to sit there doing nothing for that long. Romans house wasn't that far away, and he knew it would take precisely 25 minutes to walk there, and he figured if he went slow he could stretch it out a bit more. He jumped up off the bed and grabbed his coat, heading downstairs.

     He paused at the front door. "Gram, I'm leaving for a while," he called out, waiting for a response with his hand on the doorknob. 

     "Oh, going to welcome Roman home, are you?" came the reply from the direction of the kitchen.

     "Yeah," he answered. "I'm too excited to sit around waiting, so I'm just gonna walk there."

     "Ok then," his grandmother's voice replied. "Tell him I said hello."

     "Will do," Seth said cheerily, already halfway out the door.