Andrew sneezed for the seventh time in five minutes. He had to be allergic to something in the supply closet. That wasn't unusual. He was allergic to a lot of things. Pollen and dog dander were out. Same with strawberries, nuts, dandelions, penicillin, and bees. It was probably just dust effecting his sinuses--Achoo!
He pressed the button on his indi-glow watch, illuminating the tiny corner where he was hiding behind buckets and a dozen stinking mops. The sink was leaking and the steady drip, drip, drip was making Andrew crazy. He adjusted his legs, crossing them under him and stretching his back. Absently, Andrew turned the walkie-talkie over in his hand. Any minute now Tucker would call and tell him to get into lookout position. Juniors weren't supposed to be at the Senior Prom unless they were someone's date and that was never gonna happen, Andrew thought morosely. After Tucker's dogs took out all of those who'd scorned him, Tucker would need him to summon the Teliki demons to harness the hellhounds. Drip. Drip. "Tucker? How's it going? Is it time for me to--" "Shut up, Andy! I said I'd call you when I needed you. Now stop talking and hide." "I *am* hiding and now I'm getting bored. Plus my allergies are bothering me and I'm getting this sort of phlegmy, wet kind of--" "Andy! Shut up! Maintain radio silence until I contact you!" Tucker screeched off. Andrew sighed and checked his watch again. He hated the dark and he'd already been in here…a quick check of his watch again...fifteen minutes. Being a badguy was really boring. Suddenly, the door burst open. Andrew's mind began working frantically. Oh, crap! I'm caught. We're caught. And now I'll be suspended and miss the science fair this year and Jonathan and I had that great project where we harnessed the power of a potato to create electricity that would run his VCR long enough to play the fight between Luke and Vader when Luke loses his hand and-- The overhead bulb blinked on and Andrew crouched lower, willing himself to become invisible. He counted to ten, then twenty, hoping whoever it was would just leave. Finally his curiosity got the better of him and he sat up, inch by inch, until he could just peer between the mop-heads at the newcomer. All he could see was the backside of tuxedo pants. Whoever it was turned around searching for something. Andrew winced when he saw it was Larry Blaisdell. He crouched lower, begging whatever higher power might be out there to keep Larry from noticing him. He still bore the tragic mental scars from freshman year wedgies that Larry and his friends had inflicted upon him. The big guy looked left and right until his eyes seemed to zero in on Andrew. "Ahah!" he exclaimed excitedly. "There you are!" A large hand stretched out toward Andrew's head and he cringed. Suddenly the bucket he'd been leaning against was pulled away and Larry began sorting through the ragged mops stacked against the wall. Finding a suitable one, he gently kicked the bucket toward the dripping sink and began rummaging on the storage shelves. "Hum...soap…soap…If I were soap, where would I be?" Andrew's heart was thundering in his chest. It was only a matter of time before Larry noticed him. Should he beat him to the punch? Nonchalantly appear behind him and pretend he had followed Larry in? Whatever happened, he could not--would not--reveal Tucker's plan for the hellhounds. Not even if Larry used hot pokers or bamboo shoots on him. Although with a healthy dose of sodium pentothal, he could not be held responsible for what he said. Tucker would have to believe him. No one could hold up under truth serum except maybe James Bond, but-- "Wells, right?" Andrew's mental picture of Timothy Dalton half-naked and sweating from a violent interrogation under the influence of sodium pentothal was quickly wiped from his mind. "Huh?" "Tucker's brother, right? You stopped all of those Wizard of Oz guys at the school play last month." Andrew's mind was swirling like a giant disco ball. "Admit nothing! Admit nothing!" it screamed, while simultaneously begging "Get praise! Garner attention! Tucker's not the only one that can get wicked cool demons to do his bidding." Instead he gulped. "Yes." "Cool." Larry turned back to filling the mop bucket. "So…you're, uh, you're making up a bucket…for…" Andrew inched slowly closer to the door. If he could make it to the door, an (almost) clear getaway awaited. "Yeah. Kenny Sharpe luged Hawaiian Punch all over Mr. Locasico and the janitor's gone for the night. I told Mr. L. I'd help him out." Andrew's walkie-talkie screamed to life. "Andy, can you here me? Abort! Abort! Code Red! The Slayer is here! Repeat, the Slayer is here!" Andrew froze on his way to the door. He scrambled for the walkie-talkie attached to his black cargo pants. "What do you mean, Tucker? Should I come or go or I could call the Teliki right now and--" "Dammit, Andy! Just go home! Change of plans. They're--Shit! She just took out my best dog!" The walkie-talkie went dead. Andrew scratched his head slowly. "What's a Slayer?" Larry asked, turning off the faucet. Andrew shrugged. "Don't know." Well this night was a bust. He'd prepared so long and even bought a black turtleneck so he'd look completely stealthy. Tucker was such a wuss. If his stupid dogs were dead, then Andrew had no reason to be at the school. But he had nowhere else to go on a Saturday night, either. Then again, the DQ was having a two for one sale on sundaes. Or he could rent something at Blockbuster. He'd probably just go home, though. If only he was a senior. Or someone's date. He could have been, though. Maybe. There was that really freaky exchange student from Pakistan that talked to him sometimes. And even though he didn't know what she was asking, it seemed like she liked him. Plus she was a senior. She wasn't as cute as the exchange student from Uruguay, but he was only a junior, too. And a guy. So, obviously not prom-date-able. Not that he was gay. He wasn't. Probably. That's what-- "So…is there a reason you're hiding in the closet, Andrew?" Andrew dropped his walkie-talkie. It clattered to the ground and part of the casing popped off, shooting under a shelf. "Wh-What?" "Why. Are. You. In. The. Closet?" Holy bananas! How did Larry know? Andrew raked his eyes from the broken walkie-talkie to the door to Larry, who appeared to be in no hurry to get back to the prom. As a matter of fact, he was gazing at Andrew with a look that was almost...nice. Suddenly Andrew had the urge to tell him everything about his life. Tucker and demons and his mom and…and… "No one would understand." "I would." Andrew gulped. Larry was being so nice, which was completely abnormal--except even Tucker said Larry had changed this year. Andrew took a deep breath. "My cousin Tanya is gay and my family freaked when they found out. I mean, what would they said if *I* came out? And I’m not sure I am, you know, gay. Because I've never even been with anyone before and--" Larry's eyes were wide and his mouth dropped open. Then understanding passed behind them. "The *supply* closet, Andrew," he explained. Andrew's face went crimson with embarrassment. "Right. Right, of course. I mean…" The spell for a dozen different demons that could be summoned to swallow him alive popped it his head. He had to get out of here. Maybe he could fake a seizure or a heart attack… Then out of nowhere, Larry was embracing him. "Andrew! That's AWESOME! I’m just so proud of you! To admit something so huge--and to tell *me*? Well, I'm just so honored! We can't live our lives in the dark, friend. You must embrace it! Yeah, that's it! Embrace your newfound status. You'll be so much happier!" Andrew was confused. "So…you're…" "I'm gay, of course. Didn't you know that? Most of the guys on the team know. Hey, I might know this single guy you'd like. How do you feel about older men? He TA's over at UCS and--well, first things first; congratulations." Andrew could only nod. "What's wrong?" "I didn't…I mean…I don't know…" "Hey. Don't worry. I won't out you to anyone. It's your choice, man." Andrew nodded. "Let me know if you need help, though. "Help?" "Yeah. Someone to talk to. Or someone to give you the hook-up. I'm telling you, I know a lot of guys that would love to date someone like you." Andrew could have been mistaken, but he thought Larry was blushing slightly. "You do?" he squeaked. How was it that your life could change in a couple of minutes? A little while ago he was imagining eating sundaes alone and now the captain of the wrestling team was ready to hook him up with guys. His night was getting more and more strange. "Of course. You're a total twink, man." At Andrew's confused look, he added, "Twinkie? Young and--" "Right." Andrew looked at Larry--really looked at him--for a long time. He was being so *nice*. Andrew knew Larry was hot--he'd always thought that--but to be *nice*? And gay? Now Larry was staring back and the gaze wasn't so much nice as…intense. Oh, Yoda. He looked good in a tux, too. "So…guys would…like me?" Larry nodded slowly. "Why?" he asked in disbelief. Larry swallowed hard. "Well, you're cute." Andrew blushed harder and held back a nervous giggle. "And smart." "Hey, I thought you didn't know who I was." "Well, I know a little bit." Andrew smiled again. "You're in Mr. Peterson's bio class." "Oh, right." Andrew's hopes fell just a bit. "And you have a beautiful mouth," Larry finished. "Mouths are good?" Andrew instantly became aware of his mouth--its shape, its temperature, its moisture content, and its incredible desire to press up against Larry's. "Uh-huh. Totally kissable. Guys really like that." Andrew wanted to step closer to Larry but the mop bucket was between them; warm, sweet-smelling steam was rising into the air. "Well," Andrew suddenly said, a brilliant plan coming to mind, "what if I'm not sure if I *am* gay?" Larry looked confused. "You're not sure if you like guys? I don't get it." Andrew found his plan crumbling. "Well, I mean, I think guys are hot and stuff, but I've never kissed one. What if I don't like it or it feels freaky or something?" There. That should get the message across, he thought. "Oh, you'll like it. Believe me," Larry laughed. Curses, foiled again. Why couldn’t Larry be making this easier? Unless Larry didn't *want* to kiss him like he thought. Oh, crap! Here he was, trying to put the moves on Larry Blaisdell and the wrestler was trying to be nice and --damn! I always do this! Someone says one nice thing and I blow it all out of proportion. Just like that time with the hot school librarian and-- "Well, I could help." "Huh?" "Let me kiss you and if you like it, then you know you're gay." "O-Okay," Andrew giggled nervously. Larry stepped around the bucket and came closer until he was standing chest to chest with Andrew. The smaller man could smell cologne and dry-cleaning chemicals from the tux. Then Larry's hand was sliding behind his neck and another was moving over Andrew's ass. Larry's lips settled over his own and Andrew felt an electric jolt of energy shoot through them on a straight course toward his cock. He moved his hands to rest on hulking shoulders and Larry pulled him closer. Andrew opened his mouth and Larry's tongue was there in a blink. Larry was a jock in every sense of the word and none would call him a girl--at least not to his face--but Andrew was surprised to find his tongue was soft and gentle. The younger guy tentatively met the searching tongue and stroked it. Larry groaned and gently pushed Andrew until his back was pressed against the door. Andrew's hands moved from Larry's shoulders to his face where he ground his mouth over Larry's gentle lips. The wrestler moaned and Andrew felt his own cock leaping. He ran one leg up Larry's, rubbing his hardening cock over the wrestler's thigh. All of a sudden Larry broke the kiss gasping and sputtering. "A-Are you sure you never kissed a guy before?" Andrew nodded, biting his lip nervously. Larry smiled. "You're really good." Then his mouth was back, harder this time, and when Andrew felt questing fingers trail under his turtleneck, he arched his body into the touch, encouraging him to explore further. Larry's hands were warm and surprisingly smooth. Andrew broke the kisses against, long enough to let Larry pull the shirt over his head. Then Larry was back kissing him and rubbing at his chest. Warm lips eventually left his mouth and trailed down his chest to kiss between the nubs of his nipples while he held on to Larry's head "Andrew?" Larry gasped before sucking in Andrew's bottom lip. "Uh-huh?" "Are you sure, yet?" "Uh-huh." "Good." Nimble fingers worked at his fly and freed his dick, then pushed gently at his black pants. Larry knelt on the floor. "Larry?" he asked nervously. "Don't worry. I'll lock the door." One hand turned the lock while the other began pushing at Andrew's boxers. Andrew stepped out of his shoes and socks and shivered in the cold, moist air. "Larry--" "Look at you! So hot…" Larry grinned shyly and then nuzzled his face into sandy curls, wrapped his large hands around Andrew's slim hips. The younger boy groaned in ecstasy and gripped harder at Larry's head. Larry took the tip of Andrew's dick into his mouth, running his tongue in lazy circles over the weeping slit, then balancing it on the tip of his tongue while he looked up at Andrew. He kissed the tip gently and then bent forward and took it into his mouth completely. Andrew let out a girlish moan. "Larry...that feels…that…" One hand left his hip and Andrew heard the sound of a zipper lowering. He couldn't' see, but he imagined Larry stroking himself. Then Larry's other hand left his hip and began kneading at his balls and he lost track of what he'd been thinking. His body tensed and he came, shooting creamy ropes of fluid into Larry's mouth and over his chin. He felt Larry moan happily and wondered if it was a sympathy moan or if he'd come too. Andrew reached for a roll of paper towels on the wire shelf and broke it open, passing one over to Larry. "Thanks." Larry stood, his softening cock answering Andrew's question. Even soft, it was huge and Andrew began imagining all kinds of things he could do if ever he found himself in the closet again. Again. He suddenly realized that he was standing completely nude in the janitor's closet. "I should get dressed" Larry looked disappointed. "But you're so cute like this," he admitted. The wrestler began kissing him again and the smaller man fell into his arms, bare skin rubbing against expensive fabric. Larry's hands were touching everywhere, rubbing over smooth, heated flesh until Andrew was sure he'd come again. Larry stopped and groaned unhappily. "The bucket. I have to go. I promised. And people will start looking for me and--" "It's okay." Andrew began searching for his clothes. "You're really…" "Yeah?" "I don't know," Larry mumbled shyly. "Cool, I guess. Shit, I 'm not good with words." "It's okay," Andrew said again. "Hey, I have an idea! You wanna come to San Diego with me next week?" "San Diego?" "Yeah, my grandma lives there. You could meet her." "Well, isn't graduation next week?" "Oh, yeah." Larry looked momentarily crestfallen and was thoughtful for a moment. "Yeah, but it's just a dumb tradition. I'd rather, you know, be with you. Unless you think it's weird. I know we don't know each other that well, but I think it could be fun." Andrew grinned. "Okay. I mean, I think I can. I want to. I'll just have to check with my mom first because she made a dentist appointment for Tucker and me and--oh!" He scrambled for the broken piece of walkie-talkie under the shelf. He replaced the batteries and snapped the lid into place. "Tucker? Tucker? Can you hear me?" Silence. Then… "Andy? Where the hell are you? Are you still in the closet?" Andrew looked at Larry who was whistling and grinning dopily while wheeling his cooling mop bucket out the door. "Nope. Not any more." ~The End~ |
In the Closet |