Kyle From High School

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Kyle From High School Page 3

by Jeremy Jenkins


  And I could feel that, on edges of that kiss. It was frayed at the tips, and I knew I was just scratching the surface. But underneath everything, I could feel him there: the real him.

  The version of Phil I’d known my whole life; the person who’d changed that day in the barn…

  And the thought appeared in my mind as if it was telepathically transmitted there:

  Help me.

  3

  Phil

  My lips landed on Kyle’s again.

  I needed to stretch this out; keep him here in his bed. The longer he was here with me, the more dopamine would course through his system, bonding him to me.

  Making him my slave.

  That feel-good hormone turned people into idiots. Made them easy to control—

  Kyle kissed down the side of my neck again and I moaned, peppering the dark air with the sounds of my helplessness.

  I hated that. I hated that I couldn’t control it; but I kept reminding myself that it was a good thing. Kyle probably thought me making those sounds was a sign that I wasn’t in control—he was. Which was a component of a winning strategy in the Art of War. What was that quote from Sun Tzu? “Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak.”

  Right. That’s what I was doing.

  Just pretending.

  Kyle kissed down my collarbone and shivers passed through me.

  I loved the way his stubble grazed my skin; the sandpapery feeling was so delicious as it traveled down my body…

  He moved lower and lower, leaving footprints of sensation trailing down my torso.

  I watched his blond hair descend, getting closer and closer to my cock…

  I bit my lip and something swiveled around in my lower belly.

  Desire.

  Thick and aching desire.

  The strategist in the control room hit a bunch of buttons on his panel, trying to make it stop.

  But there was no stopping it. We were already in too deep—

  Then Kyle slipped his tongue under the head of my cock. He gently pulled it away from where it lay erect next to my belly button.

  I could see the thin, silvery trail of pre-come pull away from its puddle on my stomach.

  Kyle wrapped his lips around my head.

  Pleasure coursed through me and I let out a moan.

  His mouth was so warm and wet and tight… amazing. What an amazing feeling…

  But no! I was doing this for power. Not because it felt great or anything—

  Though it did feel great. It felt like the best blowjob I’d ever had, and it hadn’t even started yet.

  I looked up at my best friend’s face with my cock in his mouth.

  Another surge of desire pulsed through me and my cock stiffened.

  Kyle gagged.

  I stiffened again.

  “Take it…” I said breathlessly, winding my fingers through his thick blond hair.

  I moaned as Kyle sucked me off, but I noticed things anyway. I noticed the freckle on his eyelid, right above his blond eyelashes. I noticed the thin white scar right above his eyebrow—I remembered that. That scar was my fault. Back when we were playing with trick bikes in my driveway—

  Kyle swiped his tongue over my tip, and I cried out when my whole body bucked in surprise.

  His eyes flicked up to mine, full of mischief.

  I scrunched up my face, planning to get him back somehow.

  Plotting…

  Turning the tables…

  But it was so hard to think when he had my cock in his mouth like this. How could getting a blowjob make you feel like a king and a peasant at the same time? I mean, I could think I was in control all I wanted, but he was the one with his lips wrapped around my cock like a joystick.

  He was the one in control, and with any movement of his head or flick of his tongue, it was like he was pulling off some sort of complicated combo of pleasure in my body.

  I bucked and moaned against him, but he would only give me so much.

  Every time I moved my hips higher, trying to plunge further into his mouth, he drew back.

  Every time I wrapped my fingers around in his hair, getting tangled in the locks so I could get a good grip and mouth-fuck him, he tugged away.

  And dammit, his hair was so silky that it slid right out of my grasp.

  I was the one getting my dick sucked, but he was the one with the power. And all I could do was lay here and take it like a little bitch.

  He knew it, too.

  Occasionally his eyes would flick up to mine, shining silver in the moonlight. But they were full of the singular notion:

  I’ve got you under my thumb, bitch.

  I leaned back on the pillow with another moan, surrendering.

  He’d gotten me. I’d lost this round.

  My body didn’t care about winners or losers, though. All my body wanted to do was fuck.

  But every time I felt the pressure build in my low belly and threaten to crest and spill over like a wave, Kyle would pull his lips off.

  “You motherfucker,” I hissed.

  He smiled and his eyes glimmered with mischief. “Better than a sisterfucker.”

  Then he wrapped those sculpted lips around my dick and took me all the way to the back of his throat.

  “Oh!” I cried, bucking against him.

  It wasn’t voluntary anymore. I wasn’t in control; I was a fool to think I ever was.

  The control room in my head had caught on fire, and the strategist, who’d been panicking up until then, decided fuck it and slumped sideways in his Captain Kirk chair with a glass of whiskey.

  Fuck it. Let it burn.

  I grabbed the sides of Kyle’s face and pulled him off my cock.

  Pop. My cock came out of his mouth with that deliciously satisfying slurping pop you hear in porn videos.

  It only made me harder.

  Our lips crashed together and we fused.

  This kiss was different than all the previous ones. Because my inner manipulator had given up, I wasn’t trying to think my way through this one. I wasn’t thinking about what I’d get out of it, or putting him in his place, or any of that nonsense. I remembered a distant plan involving Julie, but that was a thought lingering on the boundaries of my mental state.

  No; all the scaffolding of my plots and plans had fallen away, and what was left was pure, unbridled energy.

  Desire.

  Desire for Kyle.

  Our lips molded together, quick and hurried. Like we couldn’t get enough of each other.

  I fell back on the bed and felt lighter without the weight of all of my shields and pretenses.

  This was just… it was fun. I didn’t have anything to lose or gain. Why was I trying so hard to protect myself from this? Surely there’d been a reason I’d carried all that with me…

  We writhed against one another on his bed.

  I loved the way everything around us smelled like him; that scent of fresh-cut grass and the hint of bonfire smoke. And something else, too. Something that was so distinctly and purely Kyle—

  Though I couldn’t put my finger on what it was.

  We wound around each other like a double helix. The sheets curled around us, stretching like white taffy. It pulled in shapes that I didn’t think sheets were meant to take.

  I ceased to be Phil Baron somewhere in there. I was just an animal; an animal that wanted one thing.

  I pulled away from the kiss, looked Kyle directly in the eye and said, “Take them off.”

  It wasn’t an order. It wasn’t an ask, either. It was just the next step; the next thing that had to happen in the natural order of things.

  I think Kyle understood that, too, because he didn’t protest.

  He knew what was next.

  We’d always known what was next between us.

  He unbuttoned his pants and slid them off, leaning up to pull them all the way off his feet.

  I watched the muscle beneath his hip flex—that one dimple right next to the world�
�s perfect ass.

  Suddenly, I was overcome with the urge to kiss it.

  So as Kyle yanked one pant leg off, I leaned down and buried my face in that hollow.

  “Oh!” he moaned.

  I heard his pants collide with the floor with a flumph and crumple, forgotten.

  “Yeah…” Kyle breathed.

  I leaned in; buried my face into that dimple next to his ass.

  “Yeah!” he hissed.

  Hm, didn’t know that was a sensitive spot… I thought.

  Then, guided by pure instinct, I reached across his body and pressed his other hip down, pinning him to the bed.

  “Oh…” he breathed, the moan slipping through the air all breathy and vulnerable.

  Yes, I thought to myself, shuffling my pants off the rest of the way.

  I had Kyle Feywood right where I wanted him. Maybe subconsciously, I’d always wanted him underneath me like this. All I knew was that pressing him into the mattress filled me with a sense of satisfaction that I’d never felt before.

  “You like that?” I asked, kissing the dimple again.

  “Yeah…” he said.

  I pressed my chin into the dimple, hard. My mind conjured the image of stepping on a flower and grinding it into the ground with my heel. “How about that?”

  Kyle bucked and moaned.

  “Oh? I didn’t catch that…” I said, then did it again.

  He moaned louder.

  “Shh…” I said with an evil smile. “Someone might hear you and come running to your rescue. And I don’t know about you…” I moved up his side, letting my bottom lip graze his skin and leave a snail trail of saliva. When I got to his ear, I whispered, “But it doesn’t look like you want to be rescued.”

  He didn’t say anything to that. All he did was fix me with that stubborn stare.

  I had all the power again; I could feel it. It sent another pulse of desire through me.

  My cock stiffened again, against his leg this time.

  Man, it felt so good to get those pants off…

  Kyle kissed me on the mouth, moving his lips against mine in a lustful dance.

  This time, the kiss was forceful; calculated.

  He was trying to ‘get me back,’ or whatever.

  But this time, the kiss happened when we were both buck-ass-naked.

  There were no layers in between us anymore; only our naked silvery bodies in the moonlight.

  I loved the way his abs felt against mine.

  I didn’t mind the way his kiss was different now, even though it was less unbridled.

  I wasn’t kissing Kyle my childhood friend anymore. I was kissing Kyle the douchey jock that he’d become.

  But honestly, in this position, I didn’t mind all that much.

  Finally, I was enjoying it.

  We kept making out, our bodies slithering and flexing against one another.

  A thin sheen of sweat broke out over both of us, lubricating us.

  I felt a craving arise within me; something animal and raw and ancient and all-consuming. I thought of the Jackals lining the hallway outside his door, guarding this room with their piecing, all-knowing eyes.

  Would we be going too far if we… if we went all the way?

  Kyle’s lips kept pressing against mine, lost in the passion.

  Did he want more as much as I did? Push the envelope? Push boundaries?

  The sweat made us slide. Our cocks rubbed together, slipping around in our pre-come.

  Wasn’t this already some form of sex?

  It felt so satisfying, but I couldn’t shake the impulse that I wanted more.

  There was so much more…

  We made out for a while, flowing around each other like a double helix. Our bodies ceased to be apart anymore; they were one, flowing and shifting and braiding into each other…

  I didn’t have to worry about the consequences. I’d already decided that this must be a dream.

  Not because it was so unlikely that my childhood best friend would be so willing to get down and dirty with me like this; that I could believe. In the corners of my mind, I’d always suspected that Kyle might be a little bit bisexual. But the thing that made me absolutely, one-hundred-percent certain that this was a dream was the fact that I was okay with not being in control.

  That never happened.

  So this couldn’t be real.

  The fact that this was certainly a dream compelled me to take risks. Do things I wouldn’t normally do under the suffocating veil of masculinity.

  I swung my leg up over his side like a woman might do.

  My balls rubbed against his hard, slick shaft.

  I moaned through our kiss as the sensation ran through me, wonderful and promising.

  Kyle rolled onto his elbow and grabbed my hips.

  I straddled him, one leg on either side, completely naked.

  That’s when we shared the look.

  It was a moment where both of our Death Star defenses were perfectly lined up; open and vulnerable. With a well-placed bullet, either of us could be destroyed.

  I dropped my gaze, dove down, and kissed his chest.

  He tensed and moaned.

  I pretended to be into it after that, but I couldn’t get that look out of my head. The way his eyes looked when he stared at me… so endless.

  The way he looked at me on that day…

  He must have sensed my emotional withdrawal because he grabbed my hips and rolled me over to the side.

  “Hey! What gives—”

  “Stop,” he said.

  I went quiet.

  He was staring at me with a look I’d never seen on his face before. A surprisingly adult, stern look.

  Another paint chip appeared in the picture of my best friend.

  My face fell as reality began to set in like resin. “Kyle?”

  His eyes hardened. “What are we doing?”

  I narrowed mine. “We’re finishing something.”

  I knew there were multiple meanings to that statement. I begged the question ‘where did this all begin?’ And we both knew that things started long before our confrontation in the hallway.

  Kyle sighed and blinked a few times.

  Something plummeted in my stomach and I felt my cock lose some of its vigor. I knew we would not be finishing this tonight.

  He spoke again. “I don’t know… I need time to figure out what all this means.”

  “What’s to figure out?” I said. “You’re gay.”

  “I’m not gay, you’re gay.”

  A weak smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “This sounds familiar.”

  The smile appears on his face, too. “It does, doesn’t it?”

  I ran my hand along a gold lock falling across his forehead. If it was long enough to tuck behind his ear, I would have done that.

  But it was too short.

  “Don’t think about this too much. Just do,” I said.

  “That’s rich, coming from you.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because, Phil. Everything with you is always planned. Even now—this—it’s probably part of some grand plan. I can feel the strings attached to everything, even if I can’t see them.”

  Sadness prickled through me. Sure, I liked coming across as the villain. As the manipulator; the one controlling the puppet strings. I knew my reputation in Shady Grove High School, and I didn’t mind if people thought I was the equivalent of some kind of Disney villain. It made me feel strong; invincible; powerful.

  But when Kyle accused me of that… I felt something pierce through me.

  “I didn’t know you thought so little of me,” I said.

  He looked me straight in the eye, his irises like chips of jade. “It’s not that I think little of you. It’s that I know what you’re about. I’ve known you our whole lives, Phil. And I know this is leading to something—”

  The manipulator in the control room hid behind his chair, hissing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about—”<
br />
  “Yes you do. Don’t bullshit me,” he said.

  Though, the way it came out of his mouth was on the winds of resignation. Like he didn’t want to fight. And dammit, I wanted him to fight. It meant there was still something left for us; passion we could revive. I wanted to get back to what we’d been doing before; that delicious space of forgetting and getting lost in each other that we’d just left moments ago.

  Because this? Even though we were inches apart on his bed, he felt a million miles away.

  He opened his mouth. “This whole time just now… I could feel that there was… I dunno. Something we were working towards.”

  “This, maybe,” I said, kissing him on the nose.

  But even as I performed that little endearing gesture, I could feel the cogs whirring away in the back of my mind, trying to spin this into something I could use to my advantage.

  And I hated myself for it.

  “See?” Kyle said sadly. “I can see it happening even now. You do things, Phil, but you don’t mean them.”

  I blinked a few times and let a bashful smile curl across my face, acting the part.

  Inside I was screaming.

  Kyle spoke again. “Do you mean anything?”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. I had them all ready to go on the tip of my tongue, but they all felt slimy and oily and disingenuous.

  Which Kyle would be able to pick up on.

  Which Kyle would point out and use to prove his point.

  “I don’t trust you, Phil,” he said.

  And that, I think, hurt most of all. I lowered my gaze, searching for the right thing to say. I could talk my way out of anything, usually. But here, naked with my best friend, all of it came up short. Nothing would suffice but the truth:

  “I don’t trust me, either.”

  Again, that unreadable expression came over his face and I found that I didn’t really know anything about Kyle Feywood.

  Maybe he hadn’t trusted me for a long time. Maybe he’d never trusted me.

  I sat up in his bed.

  He didn’t say anything.

  I leaned over and gathered my clothes, which had crumpled into useless piles on the floor.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

 

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