Between Us Guys

Nicky Carson's got a history. With an on-again-off-again bisexual lover, his only constant in life is the harrassment and bullying from local jocks. Hiding his problems from his buddy Jayden, Nicky deals with the situation the only way he knows how: by seducing those stupid sporty straightboys. If you can't beat 'em, bed 'em!

~~~~~

Most gays who go for straight boys really flub it. Either they shyly confess their feelings and end up getting the shit beaten out of them, or they grope and flirt with little touches and end up scaring off their prey... if they don't get the shit beaten out of them, that is. Some take a few sips of Smirnoff Ice and pretend to be drunk so they can blame their impromptu faggotry on the booze, but even if a few people are stupid enough to fall for that ploy it never works.

Me, I played to my strengths. And to a guy's weakness.

Now while it's true that everyone has different tastes and orientations, there's one thread that holds all guys together. Some might like boys, some might like girls, but guys as a whole work from a solid foundation of pride. It leads us to cheer over football games, or silently keep score of how many people we've slept with. Yes, males are a flawed species, but for those who would bother to learn a little more about us they'd realize we're stupid enough to fall for the simplest of tricks.

Kyle was probably the biggest asshole of the bunch. This was the guy who got his parents to spend hundreds on shoes and jeans and accessories so he could buy himself into popularity, the dude who'd shove people around for a laugh, or act like they're too lame to be worth it if he doesn't. He was high on peer pressure like a crack addict, always ready to howl and make a scene if it'd nab him attention. A gold crucifix shone around his neck, and while his parents were religious he was an asshole six days of the week and a saint on the seventh.

I'd never seen him vulnerable. Never. Always grinning like a jackass and acting as if the classroom was his stage, too caught up with in-groups to get in touch with real human emotion. He was the opposite of Jayden in that sense. Him being straight made me kinda antagonistic at the time too, as if he were a challenge.

Coach Ferguson always left the door to the weight room open on Fridays, for those guys who wanted to get in a little workout the last day of the week and rest up over the weekend. Not many people would stay after school for that, not even the rest of the football team. For the most part it was just Kyle habitually feeding his own narcissism by pumping iron.

So I started going too.

While the weights clacked and he'd grunt from across the room, I would just keep to the treadmill on a nice, steady jog for about half an hour. Got pretty fit too, and over time I'd gotten to know his schedule pretty well. Fifteen minutes on the free weights, ten on the machines, and then he'd shower before heading back home.

At first he glanced at me with a few funny looks, as if wondering if I really wanted to have sex with him or something. Maybe he wondered when the little faggot across the room was going to start flirting, or if he was gonna get his ass grabbed when he wasn't paying attention. Kinda makes a guy pretty self-conscious.

But I just ignored him and focused on my jogging.

I always left about five minutes before he finished so it didn't look like I was following him or anything. When he did come in stripping off his sweaty T-shirt he'd stare at me from the corner of his eye as he stood under the shower, hot water sluicing off the sweat and grime while I was doing the same.

I just kept my eyes closed, pursed my lips a little as if I was thinking about something else, and left like I couldn't give two shits about him.

And that, my friend, is how you spark an obsession.

Okay so you know those times where you aren't hungry at all, but then you see a commercial about the chicken pasta stuff with roasted red bell peppers at the Four Seasons Grill or something. You think to yourself “Damn, that sounds really good,” and you drive all the way there and find out they ran out of bell peppers and can't get any right then. So you leave, now hungry and frustrated since nothing else is going to satisfy you like that.

Damn, now I'm craving for some pasta.

Oh, right. The point. If a guy, any guy, can't feed his ego where he expects to, he'll end up horny and frustrated at an age where he's biologically destined to be horny and frustrated. He sees himself alone with a fagboy, expects to get hit on by said fagboy. Despite how weird it is it's a flattering thought, but then the little guy ends up just walking away and he starts thinking, “Damn, I wish that little queermo tried to grab my ass or something.”