by J. Tomas
Who’s Watching Whom?
By J. Tomas
Published by Queerteen Press
Visit queerteen-press.com for more information.
Copyright 2011 J. Tomas
ISBN 9781611521276
Cover Credits: monkeywrenched
Used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.
Cover Design: J.M. Snyder
All rights reserved.
WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America. Queerteen Press is an imprint of JMS Books LLC.
* * * *
Who’s Watching Whom?
By J. Tomas
It was the first Saturday night of the summer, and the last place Logan Bradley wanted to be was stuck at home babysitting his little brother. Logan was a senior now, or would be when school started up again in September. He had a social life, damn it!
But his mother was adamant—she had a date with the ladies from her book club and didn’t want to hear his lip. “One evening, that’s all I ask,” she said as she stood in the foyer, fluffing her hair in the mirror beside the empty coat rack. “Is that too much, Logan? Can’t you at least give me that?”
“Mom.” Logan hated the whine in his voice, but it seemed whenever he spoke to her any more, it was there. “This is the first night of summer. Of freedom. I’m a senior now. Chad and I wanted to go out.“
From the dining room, Logan could hear the clatter of silverware on a plate as his brother Dylan finished his dinner. His mother sighed, exasperated. She gave Logan a warning look from the corner of her eye. “Don’t start with me tonight, Logan. You saw Chad this afternoon. You don’t have to spend every waking hour with him, you know.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Logan leaned back against the wall and glared at himself in the mirror, his reflection half-hidden by his mother’s curly hair. “He’s my boyfriend, Mom.”
“And you have all summer to hang out,” she shot back. She shifted her gaze to meet his in the mirror, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. When she spoke again, her voice was soft. “Give me tonight, please. Next year this time, you’ll be moving out and you know I can’t leave Dylan on his own yet.”
Logan rolled his eyes, embarrassed. “Mom.”
She turned and touched his cheek with one cool hand. When he pulled away, her hand dropped to his shoulder to give it a tender squeeze. “You’re so grown up. I’m going to miss this.”
“Mom, please. I haven’t left yet.” Logan shrugged her off.
Lately she’d been getting all sappy on him, going on and on about how old he was now, only one year left before graduation and then college…the thought of moving out on his own for the first time in his life terrified Logan, though he’d never admit it. He didn’t need her constant little reminders to scare him. This was his last free summer, he knew. Next year he’d be busy working for a little spending cash once he moved onto campus, whatever college he ended up attending, and there would be little or no time to spend with Chad.
Who might end up going to a different school than Logan, if they both didn’t get into State. Or might get a different roommate, if their housing request wasn’t honored. Or—
Stop. Logan shook his head and pushed away from the wall, as if he could push away from those troubling concerns as easily. He didn’t want to think about college, or summer jobs, or even graduation. He wanted a carefree evening spent cruising around the city with his boyfriend’s hand in his, the car stereo so loud the windows shook from the bass. He wanted a few hours parked in a deserted lot, the two of them getting frisky in the back seat of the new car Chad got as an early graduation present. They hadn’t christened it yet, and Chad kept promising to take Logan on a wild ride.
Instead he was stuck here, babysitting a ten year old kid who still liked to watch Pokémon cartoons before going to bed. Hadn’t Logan been old enough at that age to stay home by himself?
As his mother recited a list of things she wanted done by the time she got home, Logan only half listened. His mind was on his boyfriend—the gorgeous, perfect, sexy Chad Adams, the man of his dreams…
* * * *
They’d been friends since ninth grade Pre-Algebra, but it wasn’t until the end of their sophomore year Chad finally came out. Logan still remembered the fear clouding his friend’s dark eyes as Chad held his elbow in a strong grip just outside the boy’s locker room at school. Both were on the wrestling team, and practice had just ended. “Logan, wait,” Chad had said. When Logan stopped, confused, his friend continued. “There’s something I…I really need to tell you.”
Logan thought maybe it was about the take-home exam in Geometry. Neither of them was any good in the subject, so they’d cheated off each other and probably both failed despite the effort. Chad had been leery of copying Logan’s answers, but it wasn’t like they were going to be math majors or even rocket scientists, right? “What is it?”
The discomfort flickering across Chad’s face hurt Logan’s heart. This wasn’t about Geometry, he knew. “Out there, on the mat? When I had you pinned down…”
Logan nodded in encouragement. Chad had been his partner during practice, and only once managed to trap Logan against the mat. “Yeah?”
Chad looked as if he was going to be sick. “I didn’t…I mean, I wasn’t trying…” He sighed and shook his head. “I was hard, okay? I know you felt it.”
With a laugh, Logan shrugged. “Man, it happens to everybody. I didn’t even notice.”
If it were possible, Chad’s gaze looked more tortured than before. “Logan, I—we’ve been friends a while now, right? So I think you should know. I’m gay.”
The news didn’t surprise Logan. He’d suspected it since they met, and wondered if part of their friendship wasn’t based on the fact that they both played for the same team. Logan had known he himself was into guys since the first time he ever kissed one at a sixth grade party playing Spin the Bottle. When his turn came and he spun the empty beer bottle Susie Kramer had dug out of her parents’ trash, the damn thing stopped at Bobby Ratcliffe. Without hesitation, Logan grabbed the surprised kid and planted a wet smack on his lips.
True, it wasn’t exactly electrifying, but Logan had wet dreams for a full year after that. Thank God Bobby’s father was transferred to Fort Dix before they reached high school or Logan might have wanted to pursue a real relationship with the guy.
But with his heavy eyebrows and fleshy lips, Bobby wasn’t really Logan’s type. Logan was still young enough not to know what his type was exactly, but he suspected Neanderthal wasn’t it. Now Chad, on the other hand…
Logan shook his head to clear it and gave his best friend a winning grin. “Chad, it’s cool. Really. I sort of figured it out.”
Relief flooded Chad’s face. “You did? You mean, you know?”
“Well, how many straight guys really like to pal around with a queer?” Logan nudged him playfully and winked. His own sexuality was no secret. Hell, kids in their class still talked about that kiss with Bobby.
Chad frowned slightly. His dark eyes clou
ded, and a strand of damp strawberry blond hair dropped down in front of them.
Logan reached out and tucked the strand back behind Chad’s ear. “Really, it’s fine. Wrestling turns me on, too. Why do you think I do it? It’s not like I’m going to get a scholarship or something out of it, you know? I’m not that good.”
“It’s not just that.” Chad bit his lower lip, ducked his head slightly, and looked up at Logan as if afraid of what he wanted to say. What he had to say. “It was you, Logan. I was hard because of you. I…I like you, all right? Like that.”
The floor seemed to drop out from under Logan. The only thing holding him steady was Chad’s hand on his elbow. Had he really heard what he thought he’d heard? Had Chad really said he liked Logan? Liked him?
My God. Suddenly Logan forgot how to breathe. “Lo?” Chad’s hand rubbed up Logan’s arm. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t want to, but I thought—I mean, I hoped, maybe you might feel something for me, too. I—“
Logan did the first thing he could think to do—he leaned into his best friend and silenced him with a kiss.
Bobby who?
* * * *
“Logan, are you listening to me?” His mother jingled her keys as she shouldered her purse. “Dylan has to be in bed by nine.”
Logan sighed. “Mom, it’s summer—“
“And we’re not arguing about this. Your brother already tried. Nine.” She tried to kiss his forehead but Logan stepped out of reach. “Spend some time with him before he goes down, will you? Don’t hole up in your room all night.”
Logan followed her to the door. “Can Chad come over?”
She shook her head. “You know my rule on that. No one in the house if I’m not here.”
“Mom,” Logan moaned. “It’s not like we’re going to have sex.”
Over her shoulder, she threw him a stern look. “Not in my house you’re not.”
Only half-joking, Logan said, “See, that’s why we need to go out riding tonight.”
His mother didn’t laugh. “No one in the house, you hear me?”
Logan sighed. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Dylan in bed by nine. You can stay up until I get home—“
“Mom!’ Logan cried. “I’m seventeen.”
“Which is why you can stay up.” She smirked, pleased she had won this round. “I should be in before midnight. I have my cell with me if you need to call.”
“If I’m calling anyone, it’ll be Chad,” Logan groused.
“Do not spend all night on the phone,” his mother warned. “When I call later, you better answer, mister. Now give me a kiss.”
Grudgingly Logan leaned forward, but he kissed the air in front of her face instead of landing a peck on her cheek. “Have fun. I sure won’t.”
His mother sighed. “Not with that attitude.” Raising her voice, she called out, “Bye, Dylan!”
In the living room, the television blared to life. “Bye, Mom!”
As the first strains of the Pokémon theme song reached him, Logan groaned. It was going to be a long evening.
* * * *
Less than fifteen minutes after his mother’s car had pulled out of their driveway, Logan sprawled across the couch as his younger brother Dylan sat on the floor in front of the television, glued to the set. Logan was just as enthralled with the cell phone in his hands, furiously texting Chad. Mom gone. Stuck here w/brat. U?
The reply was almost instantaneous. Thinkin of u. Can u talk?
With a grin, Logan hit the SEND button twice to call the last number he’d dialed—Chad’s, of course. Before the phone even stopped ringing in his ear, he gushed, “Hey, sexy.”
From his spot on the floor, Dylan grimaced. “Ew, yuck.”
“Shut up.” Logan kicked out with one leg, but his foot narrowly missed Dylan’s elbow. Into the phone, he sighed. “I’m stuck here with the squirt while Mom goes out drinking with her girls.”
Chad’s warm laughter curled into Logan’s ear. “I thought she had a book club or something.”
“That’s what I said.” Logan stretched out on the couch, savoring the sound of his boyfriend’s voice. “She’s gone out boozing with babes. What are you up to?”
With a sexy growl, Chad purred, “Thinking of you, remember?”
Suddenly Logan’s jeans felt too tight. He lowered his voice so only Chad could hear him ask, “You use your right hand for that, don’t you?”
“Disgusting!” Dylan announced, turning the television’s volume up a little.
Logan tossed a throw pillow at the back of his brother’s head. “You don’t even know what that means, dickweed.”
Batting the pillow away, Dylan promised, “I’m telling Mom!”
Before Logan could think of something scathing to say in response, Chad distracted him. “Babe? Are you talking to him or me?”
“You.” When Dylan shushed him, Logan decided he’d had enough. He couldn’t spend quality time with his boyfriend with his little brother listening in on every word. Pushing up from the couch, he trailed into the kitchen and started rooting through the cabinets for something to eat. “All right, he’s gone. Talk dirty to me.”
Chad’s laugh made Logan’s whole body flush with delight. “Talk is cheap. I can be there in ten minutes. With your mother gone—“
Logan sobered quickly. “Sorry, man. My mom said no.”
From the living room, Dylan raised his voice to yell, “Mom said no visitors! I heard her!”
Logan groaned. “Did you hear the loud mouth? No visitors. This sucks.”
“Well, I don’t have to come in.” There was a wicked suggestion running under Chad’s words that thrilled Logan. “What time does Squirt have to go to bed.”
“Logan!” Dylan hollered. “Mom said—“
“He’s going to bed now if he doesn’t shut up,” Logan said, holding the phone away from his ear to shout at his brother. “He’s not coming over, Dylan, all right? Jeez.”
“Logan?” Chad spoke softly, forcing Logan to turn his attention back to his boyfriend. “Should I let you go?”
“No!” Logan found a box of Cheez-its and leaned against the counter as he snacked. “I’m here. Talk to me.”
The smirk was back in Chad’s voice when he asked, “What do you want to talk about?”
Logan grinned. “What would we do if you did come over?”
He didn’t get a chance to find out. Dylan appeared in the doorway, hands on his hips, eyes glaring. “Logan, Mom said—“
“I know what she said.” Logan threw a Cheez-it at his brother, who batted it away before it could strike him in the face. “Get out of here, pipsqueak. I don’t interrupt you when you’re on the phone with your boyfriend.”
Dylan’s small chest puffed out with fury. “I don’t have a boyfriend! I’m telling Mom!”
In Logan’s ear, Chad sighed. “You know what? I don’t think I’d want to come over even if I could.”
* * * *
With Dylan constantly interrupting him, Logan didn’t enjoy staying on the phone with Chad as much as he usually did. Then again, he usually was in his room, door shut, lying in his bed with his jeans unzipped and his hand snaked into the front of his briefs, doing all the delicious things to himself Chad whispered into his ear. Dylan was usually miles away, under the watchful gaze of their mother. Logan usually didn’t have to worry about entertaining him.
But with their mother out of the house, Dylan proved to be too needy to give Logan any privacy whatsoever. First he wanted a snack, which he hounded Logan for until his brother finally plopped an open carton of ice cream down on the floor in front of him, a large spoon jammed into the frozen treat. Then the sound on the television went out mysteriously, and it took several long minutes with Dylan whining in his ear before Logan realized the remote control was under the sofa cushion and he’d accidentally hit the MUTE button when he sat. Then their mother called, and Dylan clambered around Logan reaching for the phone as he waited impatie
ntly for his own turn.
By the time quarter to nine rolled around, Logan was all too ready to tuck the kid into bed and be done with him already.
Then came the pleading. “Let me stay up,” Dylan tried, crawling on his knees with his hands clasped tight as if praying Logan would listen. “I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet—“
Logan wasn’t buying it. “You haven’t shut up all night.”
He didn’t spare his brother a glance as he replied to the latest text of Chad’s—his boyfriend had grown weary of listening to Dylan’s pestering and, shortly before eight o’clock, the two had agreed to text instead of chat on the phone. With Dylan’s bedtime looming, Logan looked forward to retreating to the quiet of his own bedroom and calling Chad back. They’d have three glorious hours alone until his mother got home.
Dylan grimaced, a painful expression he must have thought looked sincere. It didn’t work. “Please, Logan. I won’t say a word.”
With a shake of his head, Logan texted, Imp wants to stay up. WTF? To his brother, he said, “No, forget it. Once you’re in bed, I can call Chad.”
“You can call him now.” Dylan squirmed as if he needed to pee, clasping his hands tighter together in entreaty. “I won’t bother you, Logan. You won’t even know I’m here.”
“You won’t be here,” Logan told him. “You’ll be asleep. Mom told me nine o’clock. It’s almost nine. Get ready for bed.”
Dylan growled in anger as he stood. One small foot lashed out to connect with Logan’s leg. “I hate you.”
Logan wasn’t on the wrestling team for nothing. With lightning speed, he tossed his cell phone to the couch and tackled his brother. It was no contest—he pinned Dylan to the floor in a headlock, one arm pulled tight against Dylan’s back. “What’d you say?” he taunted as Dylan squirmed beneath him. “What’d you say, you little dick?”
“I’m telling Mom!” Dylan managed to gasp. His legs flailed behind him, his feet kicking the floor uselessly. “Let me go! Let me go! Let me—“
In one fluid move, Logan released him and stood, smoothing his T-shirt back into place. “Get your scrawny ass upstairs and brush your teeth. Or I’m telling Mom you wouldn’t go to bed.” When Dylan didn’t move, just sat there massaging his neck, Logan nudged him with his toe. “Go on.”