Chapter 6 - Distraction.

“I can’t believe you made it onto the Soccer team, Brian,” Mikey was gushing as he trotted along behind his idol. “This is so cool. I bet you end up on Varsity too, even though you’re just a Freshman.”

“I haven’t actually made the team yet, Mikey,” Brian explained for the fifth time to his over-eager friend as he sauntered off towards the practice field. “The coach won’t pick the final team rosters until just before the season starts in the fall. Right now, everyone is practicing together. We have three afternoons a week of conditioning this Spring and then, in August, we start to have daily practices. And I doubt I’ll be picked for Varsity - I’ve never really played on a team before and I’ll only be a Sophomore next year. Besides, Mikey, you know that the only reason I signed up for Soccer was to have an excuse to stay away from home. I couldn't care less what team I’m on, as long as I’m not expected to hurry home every day so that I can be ordered around by Jack and Joanie. Shit, I also signed up for Chemistry Club and FBLA. I’d sign up for Chess Club too if it kept me at school, except that I don’t know how to play chess for shit.”

“Yeah, well, I bet you’ll be great, Brian,” Michael, his very own one-man pep squad, reassured him.

Brian didn’t bother to comment as he left Michael at the edge of the field and jogged over to where the team was gathering around the new coach. Coach Ryan, the longtime English teacher who’d been coaching the team for the past ten years, was sitting out this spring due to a problem with gout. Mr. Stephens, the brand new, fresh-out-of-college, PE teacher was taking over the team in Ryan’s absence.

Which was definitely a nice change, in Brian’s opinion, since Ryan was at least fifty, had the biggest beer belly the boy had ever seen and probably wasn’t really much of a looker even when he had been younger and thinner. Coach Stephens, on the other hand, was rather hot. Brian thought that the new coach couldn’t be more than twenty-five or so and was well-built, thin, tall and had the most luxuriant, long, wavy dark hair that the boy had ever seen. He looked kinda like one of those rock and roll stars you’d see on the television. Regardless of how practices went, Brian thought that at least with Coach Stephens he’d have a lot more pleasant of a time while on the field, just from the fact that he’d get to spend time looking at the hunky older man.

This was the second week of Spring practice. Coach Stephens had already commented a couple of times that Brian was doing a good job and that he had pretty nice ball handling techniques. Brian had only fantasized a couple dozen times since then about what type of ball handling he’d like to show off to the sexy coach. Maybe he’d been hanging out with Mikey and Deb too much at the Liberty Diner, he thought. Brian had been listening to the stories some of the guys at the Diner told, and figured that he’d like to try out some of the ideas he’d gotten in the very near future. Unfortunately, the opportunity hadn’t really come up yet, so he was forced to fall back on his fantasies and Coach Stephens was playing a starring role in those. A boy could dream, right?

~~*~~*~~*~~

Justin had been hovering anxiously near Brian all day. He knew that something was going to happen today. He'd had this strange weighty tension coursing through his senses all day. All around him the air felt heavy. It was as if everything around him was just waiting for IT to happen. He had no idea what was coming, but whatever it was, he knew it would turn out to be important. Which was why the jumpy young blond hadn't let Brian out of his sight since the aspiring young soccer star had first left his house earlier this morning.

So far Brian's day had been pleasantly uneventful. There had been no sign of Jack or Joan this morning, Brian's classes had all gone by routinely and the boy was now eagerly trotting off to the athletic fields for soccer practice, just as planned. Justin was sitting on the top row of bleachers as he watched Michael and Brian say their goodbyes before the taller boy jogged over to the group of soccer players and coaches standing around at the near end of the track. It all seemed so normal that Justin was starting to let down his guard a bit, hopeful that he'd misread the warnings somehow.

As the soccer team started out on their first warm up lap around the track, Justin was startled into alertness by a sharp, tingling feeling stabbing into the top of his spine. The jolting sensation quickly turned into an insistent pulling that made him feel as if someone had snared him with a gigantic steel fish hook and was jerking him backwards off the stands. Justin scrabbled at the edge of the metal bench, trying to find some hold, but was unable to resist the force towing him backwards.

"Brian," he cried out, instinctively worried about being dragged away from his charge.

From the far side of the track an auburn head popped up above the rest of the pack of teens and looked in the direction of the stands. For a very brief moment, startled blue eyes locked onto questioning hazel. But, before either could do or say anything more, Justin simply disappeared.

The next instant, Justin found himself standing alone in a grey nothingness as little pinpricks of color sizzled around him, gradually coalescing into cognizable images. There were bright patches of color seemingly randomly placed all around him which slowly resolved into more solid forms, eventually showing themselves to be display racks full of colorful clothing. The walls and ceiling gradually settled into place. Then, as if a switch had been flicked, there was sound all around him, loud and repetitive and completely out of context since there wasn’t anything around to cause the noise. And then Justin sensed motion as people came into focus, all moving with determination around him, looking at the clothing, talking to one another and going about their business. It took another moment or two before the soundtrack and the motion synchronized. Finally, it all came together and Justin found himself standing in the middle of a normal day at any suburban shopping mall.

The first thing Justin noticed when he managed to put together the sounds and motions around him properly, was that there was someone crying nearby. It was a small sound, almost lost amid the bustle of the mall, but he could hear it very distinctly. Kind-hearted as always, Justin’s first thought was to find the source of the sad sound and try to help whoever was hurting. Focusing in on the sound, he noted that it seemed to come from directly in front of him, from somewhere inside a large round rack of hideous red, yellow and blue striped sweaters. Justin pushed aside a swath of the ugly sweaters and looked inside.

At the center of the rack, there was a small, flat, round platform to which the metal support bars of the clothing rack were attached. Seated in the center of the platform, hidden by the surrounding sweaters, was a small blond boy with tears streaming down his face. The little boy looked to be about two or three years old. He had white-blond hair that was cut neatly, rosy plump little cheeks and his lips were screwed up in a full-blown pout. He was wearing a pair of mini-overalls and had a sunny yellow t-shirt on underneath. The tiny figure cowered back from where Justin had just penetrated his little retreat, his sobbing coming even harder now that he’d been discovered.

If the boy hadn’t already been so obviously distraught, Justin would have laughed at the pretty little boy and his cunning hideaway. It was exactly the kind of place he would have sought out himself as a child. However this little boy wasn’t just hiding out here for fun - he was scared and probably lost and Justin’s sudden appearance hadn’t really reassured him. Like any small child, he was afraid of any grownup towering over him, especially when he was in an unfamiliar environment. So Justin did the smartest thing he could and dropped to his knees, putting himself on the boy’s level. The tears immediately started to taper off.

He held out his open hand, put on his biggest smile and said, “Hi. I’m Justin. Are you okay?”

Two immense grey-blue eyes stared up at him and then started filling anew with tears. The toddler’s lower lip trembled and pushed out into an even more pronounced pout. Just as the sobbing started to erupt into all-out wailing, Justin took action. He climbed onto the small platform with the child, letting the sweaters on the rack fall back around them recreating the feeling of a secure small haven, and he scooped the boy up into his arms.

“Shhhh. It’s okay, Buddy. It’s okay,” Justin crooned softly into the small shell-like ear of the child, whispering consoling little nothings to the child and rocking the slight body until the child’s crying petered out into nothing more than a few random sniffles.

“I’ve got you, Buddy. You’re going to be just fine,” he repeated again once the boy seemed calmer. “Can you tell me your name?”

*sniff, sniff* The boy had buried his face into Justin’s warm, comforting chest and he didn’t know if the child would respond. Finally, a teeny little voice came out from the folds of his shirt. “Jesse.”

“That’s a nice name,” Justin said in a calming voice. “Did you come to the store today with your Daddy or Mommy, Jesse?”

The boy nodded his head, wiping snot from his dripping nose onto the front of Justin’s shirt in the process.

“Do you want to come with me, Jesse, and we can find your Daddy or Mommy? I’m sure someone’s looking for you. I’ll help you find them, okay?” When the miniature blond head nodded again, Justin scooted off the small platform and stood up with the boy in his arms, ducking under the curtain of sweaters. “Alright. Now, where did your parents wander off to, hmmm? Let’s go find them.”

It only took about two minutes before Justin heard a loud voice coming from near the store’s main doors. He decided to head that direction, still carrying the child in his arms. The closer he got to the ruckus, the more certain Justin was that he’d found the lost parent.

“I just turned my back for a minute and when I looked around he was gone,” boomed a worried male voice. “He just turned three. He’s got blond hair and grey eyes and he’s wearing overalls and a yellow shirt. Please, can’t you help me look for him. Please!”

Rounding a last outpost of clothing racks near the checkstand, Justin stepped into the store’s main aisle and saw an average looking blond man standing with his back towards them, arguing with a store clerk. The little bundle of boy in his arms started to struggle as soon as he heard the man’s voice. Justin quickly set the writhing child down on his feet. The boy took off at full toddler speed, running towards the man and grabbing onto the backs of the man’s legs as soon as he was in reach.

“Jesse?” the man shrieked in relief as he looked down to see the small figure grappling onto his legs with all it’s strength.

The man gathered up the child in a huge hug and kissed the small blond head over and over. “Geez, Jesse! Where’d you go? You had me so worried, little man!” the relieved father exclaimed.

“I couldn’t see you Daddy, so I hid in the clothes and I was scared but this nice man found me and helped me look for you,” Jesse said grinning back over his shoulder at where Justin was still standing, watching the reunion with a sunshiney smile on his own face.

The happy father turned around, intending to thank whoever had helped recover his lost son, and looked in the direction that the little boy was pointing but didn’t see anyone. He scanned the whole area but there didn’t appear to be anybody nearby except for the clerk that he’d been talking to earlier. He was too flustered to worry about the missing rescuer, though. He was just happy to have his son back and he immediately turned back to the clerk to vent his relief.

Justin was still there, though. He hadn’t moved from the spot where he’d been standing when the man turned around. The man who was Jesse's father was about thirty, of medium height, with reddish-blond hair and a thin well-trimmed reddish beard. He had grey-blue eyes, just like his son. And he looked remarkably like an older version of Justin himself.

“Four,” Justin whispered to himself, frozen in place by the shock, as he stared into the face of his ‘little’ brother.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

After practice, the rest of the team always rushed to get showered and head home. Brian Kinney was the only one who didn’t seem as excited about the end of practice. He was more likely to take his time in the showers and dressing, usually being the last person out of the locker room. Tonight, being a Friday night and payday for his father, was one of Brian’s least favorite nights to be at the Kinney abode, so he was seriously dawdling - If it was possible for him to go any slower in tying his shoes, he didn’t know how. All the other boys had left more than ten minutes ago. Eventually, though, he was completely dressed and couldn’t come up with anything else to use as a delay, so the boy started out of the room, his feet dragging as he walked.

He was already halfway out the door when he remembered that he’d left his English book on the top shelf of the locker so he turned back. Brian was surprised when he heard the showers come on again just as he got to the lockers, since he thought he was the only person left in the locker room. He curiously walked around the corner into the tiled shower area to see who else was still here. The room was steamy and he couldn’t see far through the humid air. By the time he was close enough to see the person standing under the furthest showerhead, he was only a few feet away.  

There under the water was Coach Stephens, gloriously naked, soaping himself with his left hand while he played with his balls using his right. The older man looked up as Brian’s movement drew his attention. The man didn’t seem surprised or offended at the sight of the gawking teen standing fully clothed with his feet flanking the large floor drain and a big boner already tenting the front of Brian’s tan chinos. Tad Stephens just smiled at the youth, his eyes locked on the young man’s, reading the teen-aged lust and loving it.

“Sorry. . .” Brian mumbled in embarrassment as he started to back away, bumping into the half-wall surrounding the shower enclosure in his hasty retreat.

Coach Stephens didn’t seem embarrassed though. He laughed at the stumbling teen who was awkwardly trying to look anywhere but at the naked figure in the shower. “Come here, Brian,” he called in an amused tone to the flustered youth before Brian could make a full escape.

Brian felt himself drawn to the man in the shower. It was almost like he was being pulled without any independent will towards the erotic figure. He knew that this was his coach, his teacher, and he really shouldn’t be there alone with the man, but he couldn’t seem to resist the sight. As the man beckoned to him, Brian felt himself lured in towards the older man. The young man walked right into the range of the pelting water, not taking the time to bother removing his clothes. The naked man reached his arms out to the boy, drawing him in closer and then sliding his soapy hands down the thin back until he had both hands on the tight firm ass of the hypnotized boy. As the man squeezed what he’d managed to grab, he also bent his head down to nibble along the kid’s long slender neck, causing Brian to gasp aloud at the dual contact.

“Coach Stephens, I . . . I  . . . should go,” Brian muttered, not sure what exactly was happening or how he was supposed to react, but pretty sure he shouldn’t be where he was right at that moment in spite of his previous fantasies.

“You don’t want to go, do you, Brian?” the coach insisted softly as he continued to touch Brian through his soaking wet clothes. “You want this. You want me. Don’t you?”

“But. . .” Brian tried weakly to protest, at the same time enjoying the feel of the man’s lips on his neck, while Tad’s hands started to slip inside the back of his pants.

“No one has to know, Brian,” the words trickled into his consciousness as he half-heartedly tried to stop the wandering hands. “I’ll make it special for you. I promise that you’ll like it." Brian didn’t say anything more.

That’s when time started to do some very curious things around the pair. To a certain extent, everything seemed to speed up - Brian wasn’t sure what happened, in what order, but between that first groping and the time it took him to blink, he found himself on his knees in the puddling water with Coach’s hands on the sides of his head guiding his face towards the man’s fully erect dick which was protruding proudly in front of him. Then time seemed to slow far too much so that, in his confusion about exactly what to do next, Brian felt that the next few moments dragged on interminably. Stephens exerted a small pressure to the back of Brian’s neck, moving his crotch forward at the same time, until finally Brian opened up and let the man guide his cock inside his mouth. Then everything seemed to zoom forward at breakneck speed again, leaving the boy unsure of exactly how he’d managed what he’d been fantasizing about doing without actually having a real memory of the deed itself. It wasn’t until his mouth was filling with an unfamiliar warm, salty goo, causing him to gag and sputter, that time snapped back into its proper place and speed.

“Thank you, Brian,” said the coach casually, as if he was merely being polite to a stranger, as he shut off the water and started walking away from the still kneeling boy. “That was very nice. You should probably get dressed and get out of here now. I have to lock up for the night.”

Brian fumbled to his feet, staring after the retreating figure with his mouth hanging open, not sure what to do or say next. He felt so unsure of himself. What the fuck had he just done? Was that all there really was to the whole sex thing? Wasn’t he supposed to feel something? Wasn’t his first sexual experience supposed to be more . . . special?

“Shit,” was the only comment he could manage as he sloshed out of the showers, picked up his backpack and the forgotten book as he passed his locker and dripped his way through the outer doors into the dying daylight.

Brian got as far as the bleachers before he stopped and looked around himself, at a loss about what to do next. He sat on the lowest bleacher bench and watched the sun set while his clothes slowly dripped dry. He wasn’t sure what he should be feeling right now. Should he be shouting out in elation or crying?  Should he go home now or wait till his clothes were completely dry. Eventually he decided to go - he didn’t want anyone to see him there and start asking uncomfortable questions. He didn’t want anyone to find out what he’d done.

~~*~~*~~*~~

Justin didn’t know how long he’d stood there in that store, paralyzed with shock after seeing Four. His brother and nephew had left a long time ago and he was still standing in the same spot, unable to move. He knew there was some reason why he’d been forced to come here today - seeing Four was important somehow - but he didn’t understand what it all meant.

In the back of his mind there was this niggling little worry but he was too astounded by today’s events to think about anything clearly. As he tried to puzzle out what all this meant, the little worry started to grow. Justin tried to ignore it - he wanted to figure out why he’d been called to help little Jesse. The child hadn’t really been in any serious danger. Why had he been called away from watching Brian for this?

“Brian!” All of a sudden the little niggling, nagging worry he’d been ignoring sprang to the forefront of his consciousness.

Something was wrong. Brian needed him. He’d been distracted here with his little lost nephew and all the while Brian had needed him. Justin reached out with his senses and found Brian, walking all alone in the dark, halfway between school and his house. With no more than a thought he was there, beside his boy.

“Brian? What happened? Are you okay?” Justin asked in a hushed voice, unsettled by the closed off feeling he was getting from the young man shuffling along next to him. “Brian?”

Brian looked at the blond hovering worriedly next to him and gave a little huff with the threat of a smile. Then he turned back, focusing on the sidewalk in front of him. Brian ignored the person tagging along beside him for the rest of the walk home and didn’t say anything further the rest of the night.