*GREEN TAB*

By: Blue_Star

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Quick Background
Billet Family:

-OOS SportsForm-
Being a billet family is a wonderful and rewarding experience. It is a great way to get involved in the community, as well as develop some very special bonds with the Omaha Kings hockey players and their families. For many of the players, this will be their first time away from home and they will need a stable living environment for their move to Nebraska. Players on the Omaha Kings are between the ages of 16 and 20, with the majority of them being 18 and 19 years old. Part of our commitment to our players and their parents is to provide them with a good home. The players often become just like one of the family. It doesn't happen all the time – sometimes things just don't click – but it happens the majority of the time. These boys come into your lives at an early, impressionable age and leave as young men. Their time with the billet family is a very important time of their lives. They are away from their friends and family, so their billets become their surrogate family. The players arrive from all over the United States in mid to late August and will be here until the end of the hockey season in early April.

When a family volunteers to house a member of the team, they are required to provide room and board for the player. Billets are expected to treat the players as "one of the family" and not just a "renter". The same goes for the player. We have team guidelines and policies that will be provided to you, and that the players must abide by to be within our organization. We expect our billet families to uphold and enforce these team rules. All billet house rules will need to be communicated to the player when he arrives.

Each billet family is paid a monthly stipend to house a player in their home.
Generally, billets, players and the player's family develop very special bonds and remain close long after the player has left the Kings organization. We try to make it possible to make sure that this experience is a rewarding one for both the player and the billets.

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*~GREEN TAB!~*
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Hockey has always been a big part of my family. My Dad's been playing his entire life...was a star on a college team. He's now a professional. Maybe you've heard of him? Pat Gobel? Although I'm not surprised if it doesn't ring any bells. My older brother Kevin is on a college team too. He's away right now playing for NY State. I also have a little brother, Josh, who plays in a Junior League. My Mom spends most of her time carting him to and from practice. So everyone either plays or loves hockey in my house. It's like the family way of life. If we're not at a game we're watching one on TV, and if we're not watching one on TV, we're most certain to be talking about one. Everyone loves hockey. Everyone loves winter. Everyone worships solidified water. Everyone...except me. I never liked it. In fact I don't even play any sports at all. I draw. I'm going to art school next year and luckily everyone supports me even as much as I am the odd one out. I just wish my accomplishments were a little more...exciting sometimes.

I lead a fairly normal life. Normal school. Normal friends. Probably the only thing different about my household is that for the past two years we've been a Billet Family. That's right, we've been boarding yet another hockey player for the past two seasons in our home since Kevin left. So basically Josh and I get a new brother every fall. Each year the Omaha Kings draft new players, and they're assigned board with the hockey families around town. Kevin was only on the Kings a couple months before he was scouted and got shipped off. The concept of a Billet Family might sound odd, but actually it's not as weird as you might think. Besides, it's just one more hockey fanatic under our roof so they tend to fit right in.

Last year a guy named Eddie stayed with us. He was nice, but he always smelled kinda bad. The year before that it was Mike. A little on the slow side, but we learned to like him.
This year I'd be nearly the same age as our boardee. 18. So I was hoping for a little bit of a 'player upgrade.' Not that it really mattered, but maybe we'd get someone who still had all their real teeth. Someone who didn't leave their shaving stubble all over the sink. Someone who bathed every day. Was that too much to ask? Looking back at it, I guess it wasn't.
I would be getting a new brother who was more than I'd ever be prepared for.

Dad was home for the weekend we received Skip. I'll never forget it. I was absolutely swamped with exams and refused to go to the airport with my family to pick him up. After all, why should I go out of my way for another big dumb idiot when I had all this work to do? They were gone a really long time. I managed to finish my essay along with my written report and was able to spend a little 'alone time' in my room. Chances for this were always very rare so I had to take advantage of it. I was just finishing up, panting and sprawled across my bed when I heard the front door unlock downstairs. I scrambled to get my jeans back on and headed out into the hall. I could hear the new voice among my family as I hopped down the stairs.

Well, he sounded normal. He wasn't starting every sentence with 'Uhh..,' so that was good. I stopped to check myself over in the hall mirror. I guess I'll go out on a limb and say that I'm a fairly attractive guy. I've got long brown hair to about my shoulders. I'm considering growing it longer though. Green eyes. And thanks to genetics, I must admit I have a rather nice body. Especially since I've never worked out a day in my life. Thank you Dad. I straightened myself out. I looked ok, besides my fly still being unzipped. I quickly fixed the problem and rounded the corner to meet them, anticipating very little from our new guest.

"Hey, you're back," I said as normal as I could muster. I was still in a bit of a cold sweat.
"Here he is," my Dad motioned as I appeared, "Sammy, I'd like you to meet our other son, Caden."
My little brother and my Mom were just beaming. I stood there. I didn't say a thing.

This wasn't what I had been expecting.

"Hi," blue eyes smiled out to me from under thick white blonde hair, just long enough to hide Sammy's ears. His face...I couldn't grasp as to why it was so nice looking. My first impression was that he must not be on the ice much considering he was so well intact and was completely devoid of any cuts, bruises, or *gasp* missing teeth. Dad pushed Sam forward to me. When he did I managed to recover.
"Hey," I nodded, "How's it goin'?" Lame. I was so lame.
"Good," he held out his hand to me and we shook. "Looks like I'm your new bro for the season." He was smiling, and only because he knew he'd startled me.

I nodded, overwhelmed with my family staring at us both, "Looks like."

***

Our introduction in the hallway was beginning to turn into a staredown. If it hadn't been for my family standing there with us it could have easily gone on all night.
"...Here, let me get that," I finally snapped out of my stupor and took the duffel bag Sam had over his shoulder. I could feel the weight of skates and padding within it.
"Cadey, care to show Sam up to his room?" My Dad was a bit overly enthusiastic. He was seeming all too eager for us to get to know one another. I think sometimes he felt guilty for always having to be gone all the time. I had a sudden vision in my mind of something my Dad would never say:

'Here son. I was never around much while you were growing up...So please, accept this super hot kid Sammy to make up for it.'

No, he wasn't thinking that. But when I saw he didn't follow Sam and I up the stairs with more bags I was beginning to second guess. My Mom had seemed pretty happy too. It was evident Sam had charmed them during the short trip from the airport to the house.

"This is a really nice place," Sam sounded genuine about it as we reached the second floor.
"Oh, thanks. You're right here." His room was the last door on the left, mine across the hall. We went in and I set down his things.
"Wow," Sam looked around at the average room as if it were a deluxe suite, "You should have seen the place I was living at last year. This ranch house. Basically my room was about the size of a broom closet," Sam collapsed on the bed and heaved a relaxed sigh. I couldn't think of what to say next, which was dumb because there were many things I could have asked him.

"So you're the one that doesn't play?" Sam looked over at me.
"Yeah. How'd you guess?" Sarcasm in my tone.
"Your Dad told me all about you guys on the way here. He says you're an artist?"
"Yeah. Sorry if he bored you. He likes to talk a lot."
"No, he's cool," Sam shifted and sat up, "I like him. Actually my guys back in Ohio were jealous I was getting to stay in a pro player's house.....Can you show me your stuff? I'd love to see it."
"Sure...I didn't come out to the airport because I've got a bunch of testing tomorrow. I procrastinated..."
This brought on an eerie silence. I wasn't sure if it was my fault or not.

"...You really don't look like the rest of your family," Sam was looking at me quite pleasantly now.
"...Huh?" It was official. This guy was a little odd.
"It's a compliment. I was surprised to see you. I'm not really used to living with good looking people. I mean, not that your family's not good looking too...It's just, you know."
"So you're saying I'm cute?" I tried to be casual, but I wasn't sure if I was pulling it off. I probably wasn't.
"Attractive."
I expected him to follow up his sentiment by adding 'And I mean that in a completely non-homoerotic sense.' But no. That was all I got.
"Well, thank you Sam. I guess I'll bring up the rest of your stuff," I nodded.
"Thanks. And hey, call me Skip. It's what I like to go by."
"Skip it is," I managed and retreated for the hall.

Dinner went smoothly enough. I managed to learn a little about Sam since I was too stupid to ask. He was born in Ohio and brought up by his Aunt and Uncle. Something about being close with his cousins. He never mentioned anything about his real parents though, and we tactfully left it alone. There were other topics. Dad was leaving for Atlanta in the morning, Josh had a game and Skip had his big first day with his new team. I meanwhile, had only my exams. Everyone turned in early, and I for one was glad to shut myself away for awhile. It gave me time to recuperate. Surely I'd be more prepared tomorrow.

-

Enter my best friend Scott. The two of us have been hanging out together since Middle School. When I first moved here the other kids weren't so friendly to me. I came from the country so I wasn't really all too accustomed to urban or even suburban life. Scott was an oddball himself so he kinda reached out to me. We were inseparable ever since. Somehow over the years Scott gradually managed to cultivate himself into this really popular guy. He's liked by just about everyone now, luckily as am I, and we don't really talk about those days when we first met anymore. If there's one thing to know about Scott it's that chicks really, I mean really, dig him. I think it's because he's rather exotic looking. His Dad's Spanish and his mother's half Indian and half Korean so he's got this certain look that the girls seem to go crazy for. Once I had convinced him to grow his hair long it was all over. He started getting asked out all the time. I'll admit I never noticed the air Scott breathed before Sam came along. Leave it to Skip to trouble such calm waters...but I'm getting ahead of myself here. ANYway, I ride with Scott in his car to and from school every day. That morning he was all over me, wanting to know the details of the night before.

"Dude, so how is he?" I wasn't even in the car yet.
"He's..." I got in, "A little weird." We headed for school.
"Weird, huh? Like, is that a good cool weird or a bad creepy weird?" he asked me.
"Well, he said I was cute."
Scott turned and looked at me, "For real?"
"Yeah...," was all I said. I could tell Scott was expecting me to rant on further about him.
"Is he cute?"
"You want a shot at him? He's all yours," I gave my consent.
Scott laughed. "I want to see him. Let me come over today."
"How about tomorrow?" I suggested. "I can barely figure him out just yet. We're still going to the movies right?"
"I see. You want to wait a day until you introduce the 'other man' in your life, eh?"
"Just shut up and drive," I laughed. I'm sure I hit him in the arm or something.

I don't think I can imagine just how things would have turned out had Scott come home with me after school. Then the whole thing probably wouldn't have happened. When I entered the house it was empty. This meant I had maybe an hour before Mom and Josh came home.

"Yo...Sam?" I asked the empty house just to be on the safe side. "I mean...Skip? You home?"
No reply. I was clear for now. I lurked about the kitchen, made myself a sandwich and somehow found my way up to Skip's room. It's not that there was really anything I wanted to look at in there. I just felt I had the authority to enter it if I wanted to. His bags were still packed, one of them was open, and the duffel had been taken with him. I began snooping in what little he had. After browsing over a couple suits and some pairs of socks and sweatpants I came across something a little more interesting. I held up the jockstrap as if it were a biohazard between thumb and forefinger. Just as I was about to laugh I heard something. Someone was struggling with the lock on the front door.

"Sh*t!" I quickly threw Skip's things back in his bags and hurried across the hall to my room and shut the door. Even now I'm not sure why I hid. It was Skip alright. He yelled as soon as he walked in the door.
"Heelllooo? Any-body home?" I sat there on my bed, listening. I heard him walking around downstairs and eventually the opening of the fridge door. Then him coming upstairs and into his room across the hall. Great. What exactly was I supposed to do now? I had just trapped myself and for no real reason. I hadn't heard him shut his door either. I crept to my own and cracked it open. I could hear him talking to himself; something about 'enjoying this place'.

I eased my door open a little more to see Skip settling down onto his bed with a can of soda. After a few drinks he set it down, let out a relaxed sigh and began casually unsnapping the fly of his breakaways as if it were daily routine (which later I found it was.) Skip was now exposed, and from the looks of things, he was at least half ready to go. What was wrong with him? Even if nobody was home, it was a strange house! Don't get me wrong, I fully understand when a guy has urges, but at least close your door. I was so wrapped up in my shock that I didn't realize I was pushed up next to one of my hanging canvases. Skip had just gotten started, and idiot me decided I had to have a better view of this act of abomination I myself had been guilty of so many times. As I moved my weight slowly along the wall, the painting came with it. There was a loud 'thunk' when it hit the floor, and a louder 'twack' when it fell facedown. It was impossible for Skip not to hear it. He turned to my room.

"Hey," he leaned, looking over at my door. I had hid. When I finally peeked out he saw me.
"You little sneak," Skip was only amused.
"I was studying. What are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" he asked, fully amused at my flustering. "Didn't you hear me come in?"
"No," I lied. "Couldn't you shut your door?"
"...You're digging a hole for yourself, Caden," Skip resituated back to his position on the bed and returned his attentions to his task. "Come over here, since you were already watching anyway."
"What? No way!"
"I'm having a hard time getting it up. You don't have to do anything, just come in here."

A good thirty seconds must have passed before I found the nerve...
and crossed the hall.

***

I couldn't believe I was standing there. In his room. Watching him get off.
This wasn't happening.

"Sit," Skip nodded to the edge of the bed. I did, after stealing a glance, and faced the door, keeping my back to him. For some reason this seemed like the polite thing to do.
"You know, Mom and Josh are going to be home soon," I said above the soft slow sounds of skin rubbing skin behind me.
"I'll be fine...."
I tried not to talk to him. I just let him do what he needed to do. But soon his heavy breaths had me squirming.
"Let's talk," Skip insisted.
"About what? Stuff to get you off?" I did a poor job of sounding annoyed. I was terrified, "Isn't me sitting here enough?"
Skip ignored this, "Wanna do it too?"
"No thanks," I said dryly.
"Don't try to act all cool. If I hadn't caught you you'd be across the hall doing the same thing right now...."
I was speechless again.

"Mnn," Skip breathed. I turned to look at him before I remembered I wasn't supposed to. The pink length between his legs was now more than ready and Skip was massaging himself gently, affectionately gazing down at his weeping head.
"I see you got it up," I commented, now too mesmerized to hold my reserve any longer.
"Yeah." I watched him begin his session, starting out slow but handling himself quite roughly. The minutes ticked by and although Skip's method was quite repetitive, it wasn't boring me in the least.

“I heard your Dad call you Cadey. That's what I'm gonna call you too. Caden sounds too...motherly."
"Must we talk about what you want to call me while you're-"
"Ah!" Skip warned, and sat straight up now. My heart twisted, my blood froze; All those things that happen when something surprises you. I couldn't speak because I didn't want to get involved in this. God only knew what he'd want to do next if I encouraged him further. Then we both heard it. The sound of the garage door opening. Skip didn't stop. He only sped up.

"Sh*t, would you hurry up? Josh is gonna come running up here," I insisted.
"Ehh!" Skip heaved, eyes half shut, his pale cheeks full of soft color.
"Dude, shut up!" I hissed and jumped up to close us both inside the room. I could have just left him in there to finish his business, but something inside me was feeling partially responsible for all this. I wanted to see it through till the end.

...And I call Skip a pervert.

The door from the garage to the kitchen opened and I could hear my Mom and my brother settling in. I looked back to Skip.
"Damn it, would you just come already? You're gonna get us busted!"
"...Us?" Skip took a few more deep breaths before laughing.
"Boys?!" My Mom was calling up the steps. She knew we were here.
"Ah-!" Skip's moans were escalating quickly and at the worst possible time. I reached across and covered his mouth. I was rather close beside him when Skip leaned over and buried his face into my shoulder. No, I wasn't going anywhere now.
"Coming!" I yelled loud enough that I was sure Mom could hear me downstairs. Skip was still smiling in between his muffled moans, and probably because I yelled 'coming.'

I don't know what got into me. Maybe it was his hurried little breaths or the feel of his soft hair, or maybe just the fact that we were going to get caught if I didn't do something. I decided to help. When I reached down to aid Sam in his efforts he made a very long groan of relief and proceeded to guide me.
A loud knocking at the door.

"Hey!! Sam are you in there?! Caden?! We won!"
"That's awesome, Josh. Hang on, we'll be out in a minute."
"We brought home pizza. I'm gonna eat it if you don't get down here!" Josh yelled as he ran back down the hall towards the steps.
"Ehn," Skip moaned as if nursing a wound, "Hey...you're pretty good at this."
"Hurry up," I whispered, and tightened my grip.
"There...," he nodded as I stressed pressure on a certain spot on the shaft. He buried his face again and let out a sound of struggle. Even if my Mom couldn't hear us, Josh was probably telling her we were both shut up here in Sam's room with the door closed. Not good.

I moved harder, harder, and then...

Skip shoved his tongue in my mouth. I was so surprised that I forgot we were to be quiet. Apparently this was what Sam needed to climb to the top. He came. A lot. But when he finished we didn't stop kissing. Skip pushed me down onto the bed, pinning me under him and we continued, his spent mess rubbing on my jeans. God, he was trying to make me come now. Just as soon as I thought we were screwed for time enough as it was, I did come. And he knew it. It was a bit rushed, but it was still amazing. Skip kissed me until I was calm, then he grinned, shoved himself back into his pants, and quickly headed out, leaving me laying there in a daze. I had to change my jeans before I headed down, and when I did I saw Skip sitting at the table with my Mom and brother, happily eating pizza as if nothing had happened at all.

"Ah, there he his," Skip said to me.
"Has Sam been helping you?" My Mom asked. I froze.
"...Helping me?"
"He said you two were studying," My Mom seemed so happy that we had hit it off.
"Yeah, he's really...smart," I cleared my throat.
"We won our first game!" Josh interrupted.
"That's great Josh. We wanna hear all about it," I said, making for the kitchen sink. I couldn't believe I had let this happen. Where were things to go from here? When I sat down at the table next to Skip he was smiling, his mouth full of pizza. He looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. I should have been angry at him. I was. Until I saw him smiling like that at me, as if to say 'Come on, wasn't that fun?'
It had been.

...Things were about to get interesting.

***

Skip and I were unable to speak again in private that night. I saw him in the morning as I was heading out. He was at the kitchen counter, fixing himself a bowl of cereal. When I noticed he was wearing a suit I remembered that there was another he had brought with him that I liked a lot better. Josh was at the table, involved in his breakfast.
"Morning," I said, and waited to smile until I saw his lips curve at me, a sign he was still happy, as was I.

"Good morning. Any big tests today?" This was asked in a way that could only be described as flirty.
"Nope, not today. Like the suit," I picked up an apple from the bowl on the table and eyed his attire.
"Thanks."
"You're lucky you graduated early. I want a break," I sighed, and took a bite of my apple.
"Trust me, this is no vacation," he smirked, then added, "You should come watch me practice sometime."
"Maybe I will. I'd get a kick out of watching you sweat." Corny, but it worked at the time. Josh ate his breakfast, totally oblivious to the cloud of lust forming around him.

The sound of a honking car horn outside interrupted us. I looked to the front window.
"Your girl?" Skip asked.
"Nah, that's just Scott. I'll introduce you. You doing anything tonight?"
Skip only shook his head no.
"Good," I smiled, "then we have plans."

-

I meant well. I really did. I mean, anyone would have assumed that the two of them would have been able to get along. Maybe Skip liked me, but that would never be a concern to Scott, right? Scott never liked me in that way. We were just buds. Besides, he already had his own personal fan club to keep at bay. And it wasn't like I was ever going to tell Scott anything about what had happened between Sam and me. Skip and Scott were just gonna meet and be friends. Simple as that. No big deal.

Yeah, right.

Skip's practice ran a little late. He came home around six to find me trying to keep Josh and his teammates from destroying the house while my Mom and her friends chatted out back. When the hockey moms meet up, it's inevitable that I'm almost always on brat detail.

"Looks like you've been busy," Skip still had the red glow of a workout on him.
"A little," I paused to talk to him and let the mob run wild over the furniture for a moment.
"Sooo," he slid up next to me. I could smell sweat and ice on him, "What are we doing tonight?"
"I thought Scott and I could show you around town. We're gonna catch a movie too," I eased away from him. The kids were 8 and 9. They weren't stupid.
"Sounds good. I'm gonna go shower." His voice was soft, "I'll be down later."

About a half hour passed and Scott showed up. He helped me round up the little hellions into the back yard and we hung out in the now quiet living room. As Scott was telling me some story from school, in walked Sam in a grey shirt and low rise jeans, looking fresh and eager to make a good first impression.

"Hey," Skip smiled and nodded over to Scott who was sitting there next to me.
"Dude, this is Sam. Sam, Scott," I introduced happily.
"Just Skip's cool," Sam was looking at Scott, and was waiting for him to speak.
He didn't.

"Uh...dude?" I asked Scott. He was glaring at Skip.
"Hey," Scott only nodded to him. This was weird. Scott was one of the most laid back and happy people I'd ever known. He could get along with anyone. Why he was giving a complete stranger like Sam the cold shoulder was a mystery to me. Not only that, it was making things awkward. Skip wouldn't have it though. He made Scott talk to him. And when he saw he was unliked, he decided the only way to handle it was to egg Scott on.

At the movies things really got out of hand. Scott was as possessive as a jealous girlfriend, and I was doing my best to mediate between the two. When we happened to run into a group of friends from school Scott tried in vain to steer me away from Skip to go talk to them. I looked to Sam.
"It's ok. I'll meet you inside," he gave me an amused look and headed for the theater. After we were through talking to our classmates I seized the opportunity to confront Scott.

"Dude, man. What is up with you tonight?" I wanted an explanation.
"What do you mean?" Scott's tone was icy.
"You're being really rude to Sam. Why? You don't even know him."
"Caden, he's..."
"He's what?" I asked as we headed toward the theater.
"He's just weird, ok? Call it bad chemistry," he brushed me off as we got our tickets torn.
"Scott," I caught up with him as he walked ahead of me, "I thought he was weird too at first, but he's really an ok guy."
"Has he grabbed your ass yet?" I heard him mutter.

I stopped walking.
"What was that?"

Scott turned to face me, "Caden. The guy looks at you funny...I don't like it."
Sh*t. He'd caught on fast. I should have never told him that Skip had called me cute. He'd had an eye out for him. There was no need for Scott to put the pieces together. It was pretty obvious he knew I was to be the victim of Sam's ambitions.
"He's harmless," I lied.
"Whatever. Just watch your back, ok?" He scolded me as a group of girls passed, breaking their necks to look at him.
"Ok. I will," I slapped Scott on the back. I understood. After all, he was only doing his best to be protective of his best friend....or something like that anyway.

However, once we sat down with Sam I couldn't get him to take the hint not to be so Sam-ish with me. Make no mistake, when Skip flirts he doesn't go about it like a girl. He "flirts" like a hockey player in heat. Dirty and aggressive. And right now this was a very bad thing.
"So guys, what's this movie about?" Skip asked the both of us to try and make conversation.
"Well, the movie's called Murdercamp," I stated, "So I'm assuming it's about some murders that happen...at a camp."
"Scott, do you scare easy?" Skip leaned in front of me to look at him.
"Not really," Scott shot him a cold look.
"Well, I do. Don't be surprised if I'm clinging to you the whole time," Skip said to me, but he was looking at Scott with a hint of playful malice. He wasn't taking the conflict seriously at all.
"You are really weird," Scott said plainly, "Has anyone ever told you that?"
The lights went down just in time.

The movie was particularly gory, but I knew it wasn't bothering Sam as he leaned in at me.
"I don't think I can watch," he was grinning. I glanced at him. I knew if I gave him too much attention it would only make things worse.
"Stop," I murmured.
"Cadey, from what I've gathered about you in the two days I've known you...When you say stop, it definitely means go." He leaned into my neck. I couldn't do a thing.


"ALRIGHT YOU ASSH*LE! LET'S TAKE THIS SH*T OUTSIDE!!!"

Scott shot straight up in his seat and reached over me, pulling Sam out of his chair and down the aisle. I could've died. Everyone was looking at them. Granted I'm not easily embarrassed in public, but had everyone known exactly as to why these two were about to fight I'd surely want to kill myself. I had no choice but to follow them out the front exit down by the screen. When I made it to the back lot Scott was all fired up, fists ready. Skip was standing there with a happy sneer on his face.

"Uh...guys?" I tried.
"Shut up Caden!" Scott ordered me as if I were a low ranking girlfriend with no say-so in the matter. I had never seen Scott fight a day in his life. He had no idea what he was in for. Sam, on the other hand, was practically making a career for himself out of fighting. Scott flew forward and missed the first punch. As predicted, Skip was a natural fighter.

It wasn't long before the bout was over, and Scott was on the ground with a bloody nose. When it was safe I finally stepped between them.
"Alright you two...to the car."

Scott dropped us off at home and sped off without a word.
"I guess he likes you," Sam stated. I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it.
"He's just overprotective. Why did you keep egging him on like that?" I was angry.
"...I dunno," he shrugged.
I let out a frustrated sigh, "Well, you did go pretty easy on him."
"Yeah, he'll be ok." We were alone in the front yard. We hadn't been alone since the incident yesterday in Skip's room. We were quiet.

"I'm sorry," he finally said.
"I'm not the one you should apologize to."
"Yeah, you're right. I'll talk to him ok?"
"Ok. I'll call him later. He just needs time to cool down."
"Well, our night out was cut short. What do you wanna do now?" he asked me. I shrugged. With a smile he took my wrist and led me inside.
"Everybody's home," I objected.
"Oh yeah..."
"But we'll be alone tomorrow," I said, "And for two whole hours."

***

Sam and I watched Mom and Josh leave. Skip didn't even wait. He unbuttoned his jeans before the family van was out of sight. When I had asked Sam as to why he always seemed so freaking horny all the time, he had this to say to me:

"Cadey, imagine spending your whole life around nothing but guys your own age. 20 different guys every year. Think about spending every day in the locker room with them. You're on the ice with them, on the road with them. What do you think happens? Chemistry. So, sometimes, on occasion, the bonding goes a little further. Put two teenage boys in a hotel bedroom enough nights in a row and eventually something just might happen."


I'd never really thought about that before. Maybe things like that did happen...rarely. But evidently wherever place Sam had come from it happened more often than not. It had corrupted him good and permanent.
"The stories I could tell you," Sam said as I led him to my room, "Two years ago when we won state in High School, it was an away game...the team captain and I ended up f*cking in the shower after the game, and then later at the hotel. We did it for hours I swear...I couldn't sit for a week."
"You are so making this up," I said as we entered my room and Sam looked around.
"Think what you want," he looked at one of my hangings. It was a painting of Kevin.

"This your bro?"
"Yeah...sometimes I forget what he looks like. It's sort of a reference."
"You two aren't very close?"
"Not really."
"That's too bad. It's really well done. You're a good artist." He looked around. I, meanwhile, was eyeing his undone fly.
"Well, I don't mean to sound like a dick...but we only have two hours you know."
Sam looked surprised at me, "Wow. I didn't know you could be so forward."
"I'm not shy. You forget you've only known me a few days," I sat down on my bed and looked at him.

"Hm. Ok then, let's have some fun."


I underestimated Sam. He's a freak. A total sex freak. We didn't even f*ck. He spent the majority of the time teasing me and seeing how loud he could make me yell. I was laying there, clothes off, legs spread and painfully hard, expecting some all out rough action. But Sam had other ideas. He was across the room, looking over my paintbrushes which I kept in a coffee can on my desk. After briefly browsing, he picked up the entire thing and brought it over. I was stupid enough to ask what he was doing. When I saw him pick out one of my bigger brushes with a thick plastic handle and round tip, I quickly got the picture. Sam sat down at the bed's end and gazed at me. He had let himself out of his pants and it was twitching as he looked me over.

"Heh. Shaved and everything. You really prepared for this, didn't you?" He briefly licked his index finger and made agonizing circles around my entry. I opened my legs further. It felt so good to have someone touching me down there other than myself. His fingers wondered up to my balls. Sam bent down and kissed them, and then brushed my hand away from my erection so that he could see it. He ran his index finger from the base of my length up the underside until he reached the head, rubbing the slit slowly back and fourth. It tickled, and it hurt, and I felt like I might die. When I looked at him to ask him to stop he was wetting the end of the paintbrush down in his mouth. After giving it a final lick he asked if I ever did things like this on my own.

"Of course not," I breathed.
"You should take advantage of these. You've got quite a collection."

He teased my opening with the smooth tip. It was odd to hear myself moan the way I did. All of this was very new to me. I hadn't told Sam it was, but he already seemed to know. He wasn't rough with me, and for that I was grateful. The noises were a bit embarrassing, but that soon became the last of my concerns. Sam was watching my face intently, determined to please.
"Here?" he pushed the brush handle in and to the left.
My shouting echoed over the empty house. It was nice to be as loud as we wanted. When he felt I was ready he inserted another brush, but this one was far smaller. By the time I had a third inside me I was on the verge of insanity. I don't know how Skip could keep so relaxed and controlled. Maybe he had been telling the truth about his road stories after all.

"Gonna come?" He asked me, gently tugging at himself. I nodded. After that I felt the brush handles being removed. I exhaled in protest. We took a short break, prolonging my pain.
"Can't we just finish?" I asked.
He didn't reply but instead leaned in and inserted his middle finger. It was warmer, and the feeling of skin inside me felt far more enjoyable.
"You like this better, don't you?" He noted. I wanted to come. Two fingers now. He was gentle and coached me through it.
"Ehh!" I cried out and squeezed around him. Skip wasn't laughing or smiling anymore. His breathing was labored, on the verge of orgasm himself. I looked down between Skip's legs. He'd been precumming for some time now, and I could see a tiny bead of white on his head. He was close.

He sped up his fingers and his hand around himself.
"Ok, this is it," he warned. I swore until I came, hands free, and while I was coming I was still screaming explicatives. Sam yelled out with me. I wouldn't have been surprised if the neighbors had heard us.
When it was all over we had used an hour and forty five minutes.

"We've got time for one more," Skip breathed as he looked at the clock. There was no arguing with him. Sam pulled off his shirt and wriggled out of his jeans as I tried to clean up my mess. He was ready again in no time and came around to the side of the bed and hopped over me, straddling my face, with his balls hanging just above my mouth. He bent down and began to service me. I wasn't sure I could take another round of this. Skip moved his ass a little as if telling me to get going. I did, and soon found that there was no spot in particular that Sam didn't like being worked on. By the time we came again I was pulling him hard, with my tongue buried in his ass. After it was over and it occurred to me what I had been doing. I couldn't believe it. I liked Skip, but I was unaware I liked him that much.

"Was it good?" Sam asked hopefully back at me. He was panting and covered in a light sweat.
"Yeah," I nodded, smiling, "Hey you didn't swallow that did you?"
"I don't mind," he assured me, "Thanks. I came really hard that time."
"Hey, we'd better get cleaned up," I suggested. "Then I've gotta call Scott."

This really proves how bad of a friend I was being. Calling to console Scott after getting it on with Skip. But I was still in denial that Scott liked me and that he was only trying to be a good friend. Clean out of the shower, I picked up the phone. Sam gave me my privacy and went down to the kitchen. I was worried Scott might not pick up the phone when he saw it was me, but to my surprise, he did.

"Hey," he said flatly.
"Hey. Is now a bad time?" I asked.
"...Nah. You pissed at me?" Scott questioned. He sounded a bit depressed.
"No. You pissed at me?" I asked in return.
"...Yes."

Both of us were silent. Finally Scott said, "I saw what he was doing, Cadey. And you just sat there like you were ok with it. My guess is that you are ok with it." Anger was slowly building in Scott's voice.
"Scott-"
"You like him, don't you?"
"Even if I did, what difference does it make? You think I would try to replace you or something? You're not saying what's on your mind."
"You're not answering the f*cking question! Do you like him?!"

Scott had never yelled at me before. We had never fought like this. I could either lie to my best friend to try and make him happy, which wouldn't work, or I could tell the truth and possibly lose his friendship. So Skip had been right. He did like me. I decided not to answer.

"...I'll see you on Monday, ok?" I asked. This was the only thing I could say to him. There was a 'click' on the other end. Sh*t. Was I breaking his heart? Did he want me to feel sorry for him? Even though he had spent most of his time with a different girl every other week for the past three years? He could do whatever he wanted with whoever he wanted but I couldn't? What kind of friendship was that? I sat there, attempting to get angry at him. But in the end I couldn't. I knew him too well.

"Is he ok?" Sam asked me as I walked into the kitchen.
"No. I think he hates me now too."
"...This is all my fault. If I hadn't been such a prick..."
"No, it would've happened eventually no matter who it was," I concluded.
"Do you think I should talk to him?"
"He wouldn't listen."
"Then what should we do?"
"Let me try to talk to him Monday. Maybe things will be better by then."

We both knew that that wasn't going to happen.

***

I looked for Scott at our usual hang out spot on Monday. He wasn't there. So I checked his homeroom. He wasn't there either. Surely he wasn't skipping school to avoid me. If so, then this was just ridiculous. The day after that I spotted him in the hallway, taking an out of the way route to one of his classes.

"Hey," I shoved through the passing crowds of kids to reach him, "I've been looking everywhere for you."
Scott looked tired. There were circles under his eyes, "Listen, Caden. I did a lot of thinking...I shouldn't have yelled at you."
"And I should've answered your question. I was just afraid what you'd do if I...you know....told you the truth."
"Well, I really had already figured it out. Which is why I don't want us to be friends right now."

"Wh..what?" I stammered. No matter how much I had tried to prepare for something like this, it was still a shock.
"I just need some time, ok?"
"Time?"
"Yeah. I gotta straighten some things out."
"We're best friends...what's there to straighten out?"
"I dunno. Me I guess," Maybe I was to take his expression literally?
We separated there in the hallway, and I was left with an empty and terrible feeling.

My early evening sessions with Skip became more regular and I looked forward to them to get my mind off things. Skip would ask every day about Scott even though I constantly reminded him not to talk about it. Sam knew I was grieving in a sort, but I guess he figured the only way he could cheer me up was with his body. He was always ready and willing, there for me in my times of need. I arose the question as to when we would stop messing around and actually start f*cking. Skip wanted to wait until things were ok again. When I told him that was really lame he said:

"You'll just be trying not to think about Scott the whole damn time. And if I have to be honest, I still feel sorta bad about what happened."
"Come on. Can't we just f*ck to f*ck? No 'emotions' involved in all this?" I was annoyed.
"You have no idea how much I want to, but...I don't wanna do it with a guilty conscience."

I hated admitting Sam was right.
Damn you, Scott. Damn you to Hell.


October arrived, and it was time for the King's season to open. Naturally, our family gets free tickets to all the games so I'm pretty much required to go. My Mom asked about Scott and why he hadn't been joining us. I kept telling her that he was under the weather to avoid the subject, but after nearly two weeks the excuse was getting old.
"Oh, he just had some stuff to do," I said, looking out at the rink of stretching players, "I think he had a date or something."
I spotted Sam by the blue line, talking to a couple of his teammates. I tried not to ogle him too much and decided to put my attentions to Josh, of whom I'd been neglecting as of late. I got him to explain a few rules to me again even though I already knew them. Josh proudly taught them to me as the game got underway.

Skip was on the starting line. I'd heard he was good, but I didn't know just how good he was until I saw him in action. He was fast, and at times he could be a nasty player. In the middle of the second period he threw some guy down by the neck. Luckily none of the refs saw it. I absolutely fell in love with the way he could skate. The way he handled his body had me turning to goo in the front row. Had I not known him I would've surely noticed him anyway and would have suffered from the same effect. Luckily for me, I did know him. We were 'friends.'

"Isn't he good? He's faster than his teammates...Have you been watching?" My Mom pointed out.
"Yeah. I have been. He's pretty talented," I admitted. We watched Omaha win their first game, and by the time it was over I was totally turned on. Like a little hockey groupie. We waited around for him in the clubhouse after the game. Nothing fancy about the clubhouse. Just a small lounge attached to the rink. When he came in with a few other players Josh ran at him. I kept my seat at the bar.
"You guys are awesome!" Josh was enthused. My Mom eventually went over to praise them as well. As much as I wanted to fall all over him, pure ego wouldn't allow me to do it. I let Sam make his way over to me with two of his linesmen.

"Hey." He smiled at me, his hair a little messy. The guys were out of their padding but still in their jerseys.
I nodded, "Good game."
"Boys, this is my temp bro, Caden. Cadey, this is Mack and Josi," I was surprised Skip bothered introducing me to his clean cut teammates. When I got to looking at Mack I saw he really wasn't that bad looking. He had soft brown curls and dark eyes. Josi was tall with short blonde hair. Rather handsome in a perfect-teethed jock looking sort of way. I couldn't say I ever recalled seeing Kings players that looked like this. Just where had these guys come from? What happened to the black-eyed stinky idiots I was so accustomed to? The two seemed to take a liking to me. When a few more Kings players came in I found I was a bit of an attention getter. They all talked to me. Jason stood out the most though. He had coal black hair that hung in swipes around his face with piercing black eyes to match. It was easy to read that he was one of those players with a very short fuse. The guy you saw swinging more punches on the ice than actually playing the game. He was very good looking. When Sam stood next to him it was a bit painful to try and take both of them in at the same time. Jason ended up sitting next to me.

"Skip been treatin' you ok?" He asked as he looked at me.
"Yeah, he's a great guy."
"So where's your girlfriend?" He cut to the chase. I just looked at him.
"Caden! We're leaving!" Josh called from across the room.
"Am I gonna see you around all season?" Jason asked before he could let me leave.
"Uh, yeah. I'll definitely be here," I promised, "Gotta go. Nice win tonight."

When we arrived home I followed Skip into his room and shut the door. I pretty much forced myself upon him, gripping his jersey as if he might get away. We never kissed quite as much as we fooled around, so this was different.
"Mmn," Sam happily moaned in appreciation as he held my face. Eventually, we both needed air.
"Did you...like the game or something?" Sam blinked as he caught his breath, totally surprised at me.
"I have to admit I've never gotten a hardon watching a sport before," I said.
"Must've done something right then," He grinned. I stayed in his room until I couldn't get away with it any longer and retreated.

I later replayed the images from the game in my mind as I lay there in my bed that night, stroking myself as hard as I could quietly get away with, when Scott suddenly flashed through my mind. I tried to ignore it, but after a few minutes it came back again, totally destroying my erection as well as my mood. I gave up and laid there. How could I turn things around? Maybe letting him 'straighten out' on his own wasn't such a good idea. There had to be a way.

***

Sam had been in my room. This was fine, except for that all of my papers were shoved back in my folders in the wrong places. My side drawer and my desk had been ransacked. Even the cards and receipts in my wallet had been gone through. I couldn't find my bookbag. Or my phone.
What exactly had he been hoping to find?


-

Scott glanced up from his homework at the chiming cell phone on the table across from him. He sighed, and ignored it. Eventually it went to voicemail. Then it rang again.

"Caden, look. I told you we can't be talking right now, so-"
"This isn't Caden."
A pause.

"...What do you want?" Scott's tone was more caught off guard than anything.
"I want to talk to you."
"About you and Caden, right?"
"Sorta...Where are you?"
"I'm at home. Listen,...dude. I don't know if you forgot, but we're not exactly on the best of terms right now."
"I know. That's why I'd like to come visit you."
"You wanna work things out, is that it?"
"...I dunno," Sam said as if he hadn't really thought too much about it, "Is it far to your place?"
"...Where's Caden? Isn't he with you?"
"No."

"...Does he know you're calling me?"
"...Nope."
"Where are you?"
"I'm at the rink."
Scott let out a sigh and rose to his feet, "Just...stay there. I'll come pick you up."



A gold Trans Am pulled up to the Coliseum where Sam was waiting outside.
Scott unlocked the door as Skip slid in, fresh from a shower.
"Hi," He smiled.
"...Hi," Scott slowly felt the corners of his lips curve as they pulled away from the lot.
"Man, I'm hungry," Skip said, "What's good around here?"
Scott glanced over at him, still hinting a smile, "You are some kind of asshole, you know that?"
Skip poked around at the leather interior and then looked out the window, "Maybe so, but at least I don't turn into a super dickface whenever I feel threatened by someone else stealing a friend I never had the balls to tell that I liked."

"............Romeo's has really good pizza. Let's go there."
"...Ok."


The two sat in the back of the small pizza shop in calm debate.
"You know, you've confused the hell out of Caden. And me. Is it so hard to just put it out there and say what you wanna say?" Sam played with the cheese shaker as they waited for their order.
"It is when it's Caden."
"I thought you two were like bros or something."
"That's just it. Maybe....sh*t I can't believe I'm talking to you of all people about this."
"No, no you're doing good," Skip encouraged, "Go ahead."

"Maybe I don't want to be just 'bros' with him," Scott looked at the table, "You don't tell your best friend something like that if you're not sure how they'll take it."
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you supposed to be some sort of ladies' man? Caden told me you're like a chick magnet or something."
"Maybe..It keeps me from thinking about Caden sometimes."
"Sometimes," Sam noted, shaking a small pile of Mozzarella onto his empty plate and proceeding to mash the powder with his fork.

"Maybe that's what I don't like about you. You don't seem to think about anything. And then it seems like everything always goes your way. It's annoying," Scott stated.
"Fear holds you back."
"What?"
"What are you so scared of? Rejection?" Sam asked, "A good looking guy like you?"
"I didn't think Caden liked guys."
"Stop thinking so much. It'll drive you crazy," Sam assured, "Why don't you just do what you wanna do? Tell him how you feel?"
Scott stared at Skip, "Well, that would probably be because of you."
"...Oh," Skip remembered. The pizza arrived and Sam was quick to take his share, "Listen, I'm leaving next week for some away games. Why don't you go see him then?"
"What the hell are you suggesting? That we try and share him?"
"...I dunno. Why don't you suggest something then."
"Ok. How about I hog tie you and throw you back on a plane to wherever it is that you came from? That would solve the problem," Scott was smug.

Sam dropped his pizza onto his plate. He halfway stood, leaned across the table, grabbed Scott's shirt collar and roughly covered Scott's mouth with his own. Scott voiced a sound of protest, but shortly thereafter came another of consent. This presented a long break in conversation as they slowly battled, threatening to devour one another. When Sam ended the kiss Scott pressed his forehead to Skip's, exhaling softly. He gently nuzzled their noses together.

"What the hell?" Scott asked lowly, smiling in disbelief at his rival.
"F*ck you," Sam's voice was soft.
Scott brushed their lips briefly together again. It sent a cold shock through them both. The appetite for food was quickly beginning to subside for a sudden development of greater needs. They grabbed their coats and headed for the door, leaving money and an uneaten pizza on the table.

***

Scott had driven 50 the entire way to his house. It was a frantic race to get inside and then a violent shove fest once they reached the front hall. Scott gripped Sam's arms and shoved him hard against the wall with a loud slam, determined to take the lead in the situation. Skip wouldn't have it. They struggled against one another, kissing, biting skin, refusing to let the other take any sort of advantage. Sam struggled to free himself from Scott's hold, teeth gritted. Scott brought a knee up to brace Skip there, pushing on him and moaning in victory. Sam was trapped.

The only option left was to hit him. Scott staggered backwards into a picture frame causing it to fall off the wall and break, glass shattering all over the wooden floor. The brawl eventually made it's way towards the stairway, the both of them completely destroying the house as they went along. Scott got a grip on Sam's shirt as he tried to drag him upstairs to an available bed, but he was soon overpowered and thrown backwards into the living room. Scott stumbled into the coffee table, lost his balance and fell to the floor, hitting his head on the table's edge and causing a vase of flowers to topple. The breaking of more glass. Sam tackled his opponent and managed to flip Scott over onto his hands and knees.

"No! I'm not gonna bottom!" Scott struggled as he was held down. Skip's forearm was braced across his back, and another hand quickly worked on his jeans. Sam piled on more of his weight as he pulled off Scott's pants then underwear, revealing a long thick cock along with a very swollen set of balls. It was when Sam touched him there that Scott begin to accept his defeat.
"Holy sh*t," Sam commented on Scott's size as he held him down, "You're huge."
"I'm not gonna let you put...your cock..." Scott's voice staggered into a heaving jumble of nothing as Sam rubbed his ass, admiring his beautiful bright copper skin.
"Put my cock where?" Sam asked as he used this moment to undress himself.
"In my ass," Scott breathed, shedding his own shirt.

"You prick. I'm gonna f*ck you until you can't remember your own name," Sam said calmly as he licked his hand, rubbed himself down and then roughly lined up Scott's round ass to meet him. Sam smacked his cock against Scott's rear a few times and then quickly moved in without word or warning. Despite his bottom's sudden cries, Sam did nothing to help him.

"So...tight...My God, how do you even go number two?" Sam began moving hard against Scott's resistance.
"That's...disgusting..." Scott panted, digging his fingers into the carpet. "It hurts...It....hurts!"
"For f*ck's sake, give it a minute," Sam broke a smile as he began to feel Scott loosen. Within a minute they were at full speed, Sam's balls slapping away at the backside of Scott's ass. Besides the sound of this and Sam's moans, it was finally quiet.
"You are such an assh*le," Skip breathed, "Caden would be happy to f*ck you. I know it," Sam held Scott's hips and straddled a leg higher up on his partner, deepening his movements.
Scott suddenly let out a loud cry of pleasure.

"Ah, there it goes," Sam said. He had been starting to worry about his partner's ongoing silence. Now, with each thrust Scott made a little moan that just drove Sam crazy with satisfaction. He laughed and pushed even faster, seeing if Scott's cries could keep up with his movements. Before long he had Scott begging to be rubbed in a certain spot, his composure completely thrown out the window.
"Oh no. I don't think so," Sam said as he moved, "This is payback for being such an idiot for the past two weeks."
"Please...please....Sam." Scott said his name for the first time.

"I. Told. You. To," Sam gave a hard thrust with each word. Scott buried his face in his arms, "Call. Me. Skip!"
Scott screamed, unable to take this. He came in thick long spurts onto the carpet. Sam peered around him to look.
"Sucks for you. Waaay too early."

Skip kept going.

Scott was done every position and which way, legs bent at angles he didn't even know were possible. When he pleaded for a rest it went unheard, as Skip's stamina and staying power were absolutely phenomenal. When he was finally on his back he could see out the window. It was dark.
"Haaaaa! Scott!" Skip's back arched as he released yet again, hair clinging to the sweat on his face. Scott wasn't sure as to whether or not he was conscious. Everything seemed glazed over.

After Sam finished he collapsed on top of his sweaty and almost half dead partner. The two gasped for breath.

"Well..." Skip managed, his head on Scott's chest, "I think....we're done." A moment passed. Then Sam's eyes widened as he felt a pair of arms slide around him. He looked up at Scott, who was...smiling.
"You're looking at me like that? I'm shocked."
"Shut the hell up," Sam felt a soft kiss on his head. After a moment he sat up and looked at Scott. The guy was completely different now.
"When your face isn't all twisted up on ass mode you're actually really cute," Skip leaned in for a deep post-sex kiss.
In that moment Scott's eyes shot open. He pulled away.

"What?" Sam asked.
"Wh...what are we supposed to tell Caden?"
"I'll let you tell him."
"Me? Why me? You two are together."
"Well, we are sorta. We haven't actually..."
"Wait a minute," Scott's eyes were wide, "You mean to tell me we just f*cked, and you haven't even f*cked Caden?"
"Maybe...," Skip looked worried.
"Why the hell not?!"
"Because we felt bad about you," Sam informed. Scott opened his mouth as if to say something further, but nothing came out. Hadn't Caden been the focus of all this?
"Talk about derailing," Skip murmured.

"OH MY GOT! WHAT ES DIS MESS?!"

They hadn't heard the front door unlock. Scott's mother was in the hallway, but feet from reaching them. The two panicked and fell over each other to get up, franticly grabbing their clothes from the messy carpet littered with glass, blood, and come. They barely escaped through a living room window.

"What are you gonna tell your Mom?" Sam asked as they dressed in the bushes.
"I guess robbers?" Scott shrugged.
"Well, you do have a couple bruises. You could pretend you were raped since your seed's all over the living room," Sam tried not to snicker.
"Just go, ok?" Scott didn't seem as mad as he should have been. His voice didn't have that sharpness to it anymore.
"You really just needed to get laid, didn't you?" Sam gave him a short kiss before running off across the yard.

"Hey," He quietly called back. Scott turned, pulling his shirt on, "Which way is it to my house?"
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