tagGay MaleSpeech and Debate Pt. 10

Speech and Debate Pt. 10

byDAMackey©

I hope this chapter will ease some fears and tie up some burning questions.

This chapter is a doozy! There's a lot of ground to cover so it's an extra-long addition this time. Longest one yet, by far. I hope you enjoy it!

There are still more chapters on the way...and a possibility of a side line extension once this main series comes to a close. Fingers crossed!


*****

Thus, the Serpent was Driven from the Garden

By D. A. Mackey

As a nerd, when you enter a place as complex and hierarchical as the American High School, you naturally take your spot towards the bottom of that hierarchy. The strata become readily apparent on day one, though the criteria of each level may still remain mysterious. By the end of your first week, you unconsciously assume all of the rules and regulations associated with whichever level you found yourself a part of, willingly or not. That may seem cruel at face value, but it was the way of the world I had lived in for the past three and a half years. It was social Darwinism at its most basic level: survival of the fittest. This was simply crucial to your survival in a place where the tiniest mistake could have drastic and far reaching consequences for the wrong type of person. It was also why it was imperative that you know if you WERE the wrong type of person in the first place before you did or said anything.

I hadn't spent much time mourning my lack of social standing or decrying the things that I had missed out on. I didn't lay awake at night and wallow in self-pity or wonder why things were the way they were. I saw the things portrayed on the popular T.V. shows and movies: the parties, games, and friends, and all the drama, laughter, and heartache that came with them. But I didn't pine for them. What would be the point? I was where I was. There was no conceivable way that one single person could change the structure of an entire institution that had operated this way for decades.

And then Daniel happened.

I had started climbing the ladder I had never even considered before. In truth, I didn't climb it; I was pushed up it rung by metaphorical rung. In a blink, I was forced to adjust my view on nearly everything that surrounded me. No longer was my world simply me, my mind, my books, and my futile fantasies about one day showing them all. Things had become intricate beyond my wildest imaginings from the moment Daniel and I had begun our pilgrimage of exploration in the frozen wasteland of Boston on the night of my 18th birthday.

One of those views I found myself suddenly concerned with was the prospect of Prom, now less than a week away. I'd always considered Proms and Formals and Debutante Balls as an outdated, outmoded, and semi-misogynistic spectacle. However, one cannot deny the rite of passage element that the late spring dance possesses.

From my new vantage point and somewhat to my horror, I found myself actually wanting to attend, curious to see what all the fuss was about. I worried that I might miss something if I stayed home like I'd always assumed I would from the day I was placed in the bottom tier of the social order. That I was even entertaining the idea of Prom was off-putting enough for me. Add to that the rising emotions Daniel elicited in me and the possibility of Ian revealing our relationship to the rest of the school,...my teenaged brain was rapidly approaching full capacity.

Thus, I found myself cleaning up the Varsity locker rooms after baseball practice on a late Spring afternoon, my normally ordered and logical mind in a dizzying whirl of contradictions in logic. I could barely concentrate on the equipment as I stored it on the proper shelves, (or what I hoped were the proper shelves.) For once, I paid absolutely no attention to the naked teammates showering just a few feet away. It's truly stunning what your brain can gloss over when your mind is otherwise occupied. Even a bevy of abdominal muscles, pecs, and flopping cocks in all shapes and sizes. The jovial back-and-forth of my teammates barely registered to my ears.

"Should I take Amanda or Katy, do you think?" Gordon slurred, still sounding stoned as usual. I had flashing images of his natural voice being the cause of many troubles with the police in his upcoming college days.

"You asked them both?" Daniel's sultry baritone voice asked. Even in my stupor, his voice always sounded clear as bell.

"I asked Katy; and THEN Amanda asked ME."

"Either way, you're gonna get laid. So just flip a coin, dude. They're both hot," Tall Paul offered his two cents on the matter.

I shook my head in disbelief.

Boys, am I right?

"Take 'em both and have a threesome," Ian joked.

The growls and grunts and teases of approval and mock surprise echoed from the tiled walls. I tried to concentrate on my menial tasks and headed to the exit to grab the final equipment bag, passing the showers on the way.

"David," Ian called to me, stopping me in my tracks Was he going to reveal everything right now? Naked in the showers in front of everyone? My mind began to postulate theories and strategies, various angles of avoidance and denial.

"Why don't you take one of these chicks off Gordon's hands, huh?" he continued, "I mean, with what you got hanging between your legs, either one of them would jump at the offer, gay or not."

The team burst into laughter, Daniel included, though when he looked at me standing in the doorway I could sense his tension, his protective nature ready to spring forward at the smallest indication of my distress. I smiled back at him, silently thanking him for always being my back up plan. Just in case. I readied my response as the words "hung," "huge," "crazy," "insane," and "lucky," bounced around me.

"Aww, but Ian, I was still holding out hope that you would ask me?" I said with mock sadness as I grabbed my crotch through my jeans, pushing it towards him.

That got the response I'd hoped: everyone turned from me and began to hassle and harass Ian instead.

"Oooo, he got you, dude."

I walked on and thanked my lucky stars that wit and intelligence still had power, even in this higher social strata. It was always a game of one-ups-manship. That was a game I could usually play to my advantage, if the medium was brains and not brawn.

It seemed that I could feel Daniel's eyes on my back as I walked past the showers. I imagined his gaze resting on the muscles of my back and ass as it moved silently beneath my jeans. I felt my cock start to grow, pushing down my leg. I played out the fantasy in my mind, a smile unconsciously creeping across my face.

To my surprise, my interactions and budding friendship with the Baseball team soon started to bleed into my daily routine at school as well. I hadn't stood alone against my favorite reading tree in the Annex for weeks. Instead, I was often included in the conversations of the "popular crowd."

True, I still stood on the outer edge of that crowd and only interjected or offered my own voice when asked. But I was there none the less. When I walked to my classes, I found that the other students all stepped aside to let me pass. Their stares and gazes no longer held the edge of contempt or distrust that I had grown so accustomed to. Now, they seemed to possess a bit of something I couldn't quite classify. Respect? I decided it served little purpose to think about it too much and just continued to go about my normal routine, with some slight adjustments.

I still avoided these social interactions whenever they incorporated Amy and her crew of minions. Though I had somehow broken the barrier between Jock and Nerd, that tenuous relationship did not go so far as to grant access to the Jock/Popular Girl world.

"Could you read over this history paper for me?" Ian asked as we sat on one of the benches in the cafeteria during Senior lunch, only two days before Prom. "I know you're, like, a genius or some shit. I really need to do well on this one so I don't have to take summer school."

"Sure," I offered. He was in "regular" U.S. History, so how hard could it be right? "Let me see it."

Ian handed it over and I immediately noted the larger than normal font and extra wide margins. I raised my eyebrows at him.

"What?! It has to be four pages! It's four pages," he offered, picking up on my implicit judgement.

"14 point font, inch-and-a-half margins, and extra wide headers is cheating," I said frankly. "But, let me see what I can do. I'll get this back to you after practice, okay?" I slid his paper into the backpack stashed between my feet just as Daniel and Tall Paul took seats across from us.

"Awesome," Ian said with a smile before tearing into a sandwich that could have easily fed three grown men with the amount of Roast Beef it just barely held in place between too small slices of wheat bread. The sheer amount of food it took to keep up a body like Ian's still flabbergasted me. He never seemed to stop stuffing his face with some form of sustenance. I felt for his parents and their pantry, but Ian drove a Mercedes, so I was less concerned for their wallets.

When I looked up, I saw Dr. Plarston carrying her lunch tray across the room, headed towards the faculty table in the corner near a large, sunny window. She caught my eye and we looked at each other across the crowded lunch room for a moment. Without warning, I felt myself wracked with something that felt suspiciously like guilt.

Her eyes were so...sad. Where she had always looked at me with pride and protective motherliness before, now she seemed almost disappointed and somewhat confused. As if she couldn't quite understand what I was doing where she found me. I was an exotic bird that had flown the coop and taken up residence in the Silverback Gorilla enclosure.

My teachers had always been like surrogate parents for me when I was away from home. They had been my sole friends for years now, my advisors and protectors, my biggest fans and ardent supporters. It killed me to think that I was somehow letting them down.

But why should who I decided to socialize with concern them? True, this crowd of athletes I found myself associated with was far from the norm, especially for me. But I wasn't in distress. I wasn't being mocked or derided. I wasn't being ignored anymore. I was finally being SEEN. Why couldn't she understand that?

I wondered if she felt that I was betraying my true nature. I had wrestled with much the same thing as I lay awake most nights, staring at my ceiling and trying to organize my distracted mind. But I wasn't. I was simply discovering a part of my nature that I hadn't known was there before. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life alone and isolated. No one does, no matter what bravado and bluster they may muster to the contrary. Not if they are being honest with themselves.

I was growing into a person who enjoyed human interaction, who was comfortable enough with himself to be included in the rest of the world. The quiet nerd who loved to read fantasy novels and poetry was still there. He wasn't gone. He was just finally becoming...happy. That part of me would never disappear. It couldn't. It was, and always will be, integral to who I was and am. But I had come to find that it didn't need to be mutually exclusive from this other, newer piece of me.

"Earth to David? Come in, David?"

I heard Daniel's voice as if from a great distance.

"Hmm?" I mumbled, shaking Dr. Plarston's apparent disappointment from my mind and returning my attention to the man who now sat before me. As usual, it took a few moments for the gentle revelation of Daniel's beauty to fade enough for me to regain my powers of thought and speech.

"Do you want to work out with the team tonight?" Daniel asked, apparently for the second time.

"With the team?" I mimmicked, still a little dumbfounded.

"Yeah," Tall Paul interjected. "You've been working out with Daniel most nights, right? Why not just join us instead?"

"I bet I can whip you into shape better than this puny little man," Ian joked and kicked Daniel squarely in the shins under the table

Daniel punched him in the shoulder. Ian barely budged and Daniel nursed his sore knuckles in his lap, where he thought no one would notice. Punching Ian was like punching a cinder block wall and equally as effective.

It was true that Daniel and I had continued our work out regimen most afternoons after practice, and our morning runs as well. We weren't AS diligent in the routine since Ian's inclusion in our bedroom antics during the away game. The weight room held all sorts of erotic potential when it was just the two of us alone together. Erotic potential could be dangerous when you were always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Three sets of eyes stared at me and I realized that I needed to respond and fast.

I don't know why, but I nodded my acceptance of their proposal.

"Cool," Ian said in tandem with Tall Paul.

The bell rang, warning us to the five minutes remaining in our lunch period. Ian and Paul stood and made their goodbyes before grabbing their stuff and exiting.

I stared at Daniel for a moment. When we found ourselves alone like that, the rest of the world quieted to a buzz like a fluorescent light bulb and motion faded away to a hazy mist.

"You ready for this, Nerd?" he asked, his brown eyes twinkling at me.

"Are you?" I shot back. "Are you going to keep your hands to yourself in there? You haven't been able to thus far."

"Hey! I wasn't the one on my knees in front of the bench press machine last night, dude."

"No, you're right. That was me. But you were the one who whipped out his cock and asked me to take that position, as I recall."

Daniel blushed bright scarlet. Point: Nerd. He was off balance. Might as well finish him off and put him out of his misery. It was the humane thing to do.

"We'll see who can keep his cock in his pants this afternoon, won't we jock boy?" I stood and leaned my lips close to his ear, my breath just barely brushing against his skin. "Try not to think about fucking me when the rest of the team is spotting me tonight, okay? Don't even think about my dick filling you up when they all teach me new moves. When we get all sweaty. Just put it from your mind. Don't even wonder if I'll be wearing one of your jock straps beneath my shorts. I will be. But that won't matter at all to you, will it? You'll be just fine. See you in the weight room, baby."

I straightened and walked from the lunch room. I didn't need to look back to know that Daniel was stuck to his seat. I had watched he his cock grow rigid in his jeans when I spoke. I passed his wide-eyed face and it was proof enough that my speech had found its home. I had planted that seed and I was absolutely certain that it would grow as I intended. I looked forward to the harvest.

It was perplexing to find myself in the Varsity Weight Room later that afternoon with someone other than Daniel. I'd grown accustomed to the space, with its machines and free-weights and myriad devices of torment and torture. But always with Daniel as my guide. Having six other men crammed in the room with us ignited a competitive spark in me that I was previously unaware I was capable of.

I wore a black tank top that clung tightly to my torso and a pair of loose maroon basketball shorts over a white jock. I'd made sure to dress in private so as to not allow Daniel the knowledge of what, if anything, was under my clothes. I wanted him guessing. I basked in the tormented looks he would cast in my direction every now and again. He was normally in his element in that room especially, always the dominant and more sure of us two. Watching him struggle to maintain his composure and fidget uncomfortably with his crotch on occasion was akin to making him squirm when I'd bring him just to brink of orgasm.

"Put your hands further apart and go slow. Like, really slow this time," Ian instructed from just behind me. I held two twenty-five pound dumbbells to my shoulders, preparing to lift them above my head in a Military Press. I could feel the massive bulk of Ian at my back as I pushed them slowly above my head.

Ian's hands on my pecs startled me. He pressed his fingers into my upper chest where my shoulders joined the larger muscle, reaching around my torso to highlight the area he wanted me to focus on.

"Feel that?" he coached, his voice just at my right ear. "Slow. Slow. Good."

His finger tips touched me lightly, just pressing into my skin so that I could feel the muscles straining beneath. My eyes widened and I sighed when his hand brushed against my nipple through my shirt.

"Sorry," he whispered so that only I could hear. "Slipped."

"He can use more weight that that," Daniel said from his seated position on padded weight bench off to my right. My eyes snapped to him and I found that they could indeed go even wider. What was he up to?

"Oh really? You been holding out on me, dude?" Ian asked with sarcastic admonition.

I felt my face heat. I tried in vain to focus on my form and counting slowly to eigh, attempting to ignore Ian's rippled muscles and musky scent just inches from my back.

"That was more than enough weight, thank you very much," I said as I bent over to drop the dumbbells to the floor. As I did, my ass pressed against Ian's hips, his bulge squeezed into my covered crack.

I couldn't help myself; I let out a barely audible moan and pushed back a little more than was absolutely necessary.

I turned to see Daniel's face twist in barely concealed jealousy. His poorly hidden emotional response to the slightest touch from Ian gave me an idea.

"Why don't you two show us all how it's supposed to be done, if you're so sure I can do more?"

You would think I had just thrown down the gauntlet instead of offering to supervise a friendly competition between teammates. Ian and Daniel both looked to the rack of free weights is if it held their salvation.

"Forty Fives? Preacher Curls?" Daniel asked, rising from the bench.

"You're on," Ian barked back, his voice dropping nearly an octave in an unnecessary attempt to further his already obvious masculinity before this test of strength.

"Paul, will you be the judge?" I asked, getting the tall teen's attention from where he blasted his abdominals on a hanging bar.

"Why don't you judge, dude?" He asked, dropping to the floor and wiping his forehead with one lean forearm.

"I'm gay. I don't think I can be impartial here."

I winked at the two men who had each grabbed their own sets of matching dumbbells. Ian smiled and flexed his muscles, all of them, in a wave that went from his pecs to his pelvis. Daniel looked to the floor and blushed. I smirked at him.

He brought this on himself. He was making it almost too easy.

"You two, in the middle of the room. Everyone else along the wall," I commanded.

Surprisingly, everyone obeyed without comment. In short order, Daniel and Ian stood facing each other in the middle of the room. The rest lined up against the far wall to either side of me, two on my right and three on my left.

"First one who drops the weight is the looser," Paul said. "On the count of three. One. Two..."

"Wait!" I called out. "Make it fair as fair can be, boys. Shirts off, gentlemen, and face us, please."

Ian and Daniel stared at me. I smirked at Daniel again, and caught my breath as they both dropped their weights to comply. Even though Ian was chiseled like a God, I couldn't tear my eyes from Daniel's hairy chest, his dark nipples erect now and standing out like little mountains. His stomach tightened and relaxed, each of his abs clearly outlined. His treasure trail beckoned me to travel it's length and claim my prize.

"Alright. One. Two. Three!" Paul counted out.

Ian started at a blistering pace. I struggled not to gasp at the sheer speed and raw power he exhibited. He'd already gotten to 20 by the time Daniel had reached 10. While the rest of my teammates clapped and cheered them on, I just stared into Daniel and he stared right back at me. I watched Daniel's eyes follow my hands as I slid them up my thighs slowly, so as to not draw attention to myself.

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byDAMackey© 79 comments/ 67570 views/ 100 favorites

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