Friday, June 1, 2012

The Family in the Window- pt 4b, Friends Are For

Evan pulled another cigarette from the pack and lit it as he drove.  He turned the music volume back up to drown out the thought of conversation.  When they reached Tristan’s home he parked in front by the curb and turned off the car.
“What’s going on?” Tristan asked.
“I’m just letting you out.”
“Yeah, but you turned off the car.”
“Are your parents home yet?”
“No,” Tristan answered.  He opened the door and began to stand.
“Do you still have that heated Jacuzzi?”
“Of course,” Tristan said.
“Why don’t we take a dip?  Hang out.”
Tristan leaned into the car.  The last time they had been the Jacuzzi together was the last time they had been together out of school.  They had kissed and groped each other and it could have gone farther but they heard his mother returning from running errands.   Suddenly they had to be two friends, to friends who were boys and enjoying the water.  It was the previous summer before school started and somehow they had stopped talking to each other afterwards.  They didn’t breakup.  They weren’t officially a couple.
“Yeah sure, but this time you have to keep your hands to yourself.”
“Hey there were two of us,” Evan said.
Tristan turned and walked over the snow covered lawn to his front door where he opened it with a key.  Evan wasn’t far behind him.  They were greeted at the door by Barney who followed them to Tristan’s room where he sat in the hallway and watched them.  Evan began to undress by sliding off his shoes and shirts.
“What are you doing?” Tristan asked.
“What?  It’s nothing we haven’t seen before.  Nothing we haven’t touched before.”  He pulled his pants and underwear down in one action then took off his socks.  
“You’re just proud of that thing of yours,” Tristan said looking down to Evan’s flaccid penis.  
“I’d walk around nude except your parents are coming home sooner or later.”
“Yeah, yeah, the trunks are in the lowest drawer,” Tristan said pointing to the dresser near the door.  He watched as Evan squatted then began to laugh.  “No seriously they’re in the top drawer.  I just wanted to see if you’d bend over.”
Evan stood and blushing he opened the top drawer.  
“Cheeky bastard,” Evan said.
“Takes one to know one.  Get out the blue ones for me.”
Minutes later they were both dressed in their swim trunks and in the Jacuzzi on the back deck of Tristan’s home.  Tristan made them each a turkey sandwich for a snack.  Barney stared at them from beside the Jacuzzi with drool hanging from his mouth.
“That’s disgusting,” Evan said.
“You keep feeding him so he drools.”
“Here puppy,” Evan said throwing another bite of his sandwich.
Barney swallowed the bite with very little chewing then shook his head making the saliva wrap around his face and off against the window.  
“Awe, that’s disgusting.  Now he looks like a go go dancer at a bukkake party.”
Tristan laughed.  “That’s a messed up mental image.  Now I am never going to be able to look at my dog the same way.”
“So, your new boyfriend,” Evan said.
“I knew we’d get around to this.”
“Is he well hung?  Did you guys do anything?”
“We didn’t do anything.  I’m not a whore.”
“I’d be a whore for a college guy, a soccer player too.  I’m sure he has great thighs.”
“If you had sex half as much as you talked about it--”
“--hey, I’m just saying.  So tell me about it.  Is he relationship material?”
Tristan shrugged his shoulders.  “I like him.”
“Is he a bottom or a top?”
“You’re such a dork.  It doesn’t have to be that way.”
“That was the problem with us.  I knew when you wouldn’t let me fuck you that we were both tops.  You wouldn’t think it because we are a couple of skinny twinks but we are.  Shit, I forgot my cigarettes.”
“You can’t smoke here anyway.  My parents don’t like it.”
Evan let out an exaggerated sigh.  “You parents can go fuck a duck for all I care.”
“Okay, I don’t want you to smoke,” Tristan said.  “It’s bad enough you get cancer but I don’t want to get it from second had smoke.”
“You can go fuck a duck,” Evan said.
Tristan shrugged his shoulders.
“I just might,” he said.

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