Trouble Plus Trouble. - 1. Chapter 1

Trouble Plus Trouble.

Chapter 1.

 

"Peter, why don't you join the swim team? You said you like going to the surf, so you must be okay in the water."

Peter stared in surprise at Andy and wondered if he was being stirred. The swim team was filled with a pack of rough jock types and that put it beyond the bounds of interest.

"Are you joking me again? You know I wouldn't fit in with those guys."

"Why not? You're pretty fit and you know it’s school rules to join one of the sports teams. Swimming’s the only sport I've heard you talk about so you might as well be in something you like."

"They'd spend all their time stirring me Andy. I've heard what they're like."

Andy seemed to think that was funny.

"So? What have you heard?"

Peter had to be careful here because Andy was part of the swim team and it would be a disaster if he said the wrong thing.

"I just don't think it would work. I've heard they're always getting drunk and I've also heard that they give quiet, clever kids a hard time."

"They do sort of. But it's only fun."

"Well I don't drink at all Andy and you know I'm quiet."

"You don't drink? God, you're crazy. Have you ever tried it?"

"No. And I'm not going to."

Andy looked like he was going to pursue this further but changed his mind.

"I'd be there to look after you."

"Look after me? I'm not a baby and I shouldn't need anyone to have to look after me anyway."

Andy cocked his head and gave a look.

"You know what I mean."

Peter went quiet because in fact Andy was right about the swimming, and of all the sports on offer it really was the only one that interested him.

"Go on Peter. I can tell you want to."

Andy came close and put a friendly arm on Peter's shoulder.

"You're going to aren't you?"

Peter wondered how Andy did this to him. As soon as he put on the charm he was impossible to resist.

"Well..."

He got no further before the arm slipped quickly around his neck and he was held from behind.

He struggled, which was totally useless since Andy was much bigger and stronger, then felt himself dragged to the floor.

Andy rolled next to him, and in two seconds flat had him totally helpless in some kind of wrestling hold.

"That's a yes isn't it?"

"No."

"It had better be. Or you've had it."

This was the third time he'd wrestled with Andy and Peter knew he was meant to resist and try to get out of it. The last time this happened Andy held him down and told him he had to take his punishment for resisting. This was all very disconcerting as he'd only known Andy for two weeks since the move, and he certainly wasn't used to wrestling with anyone, let alone having this nipple nauger thing as punishment.

"Come on. You're not getting away till I hear you say yes."

"I'm not saying yes if you do that nipple thing again."

"Oh yeah. Wanna bet?"

Andy's free hand took a grip, gradually increased pressure, then relaxed when Peter started squawking.

"All right. No naugers today. But let's hear that yes."

"No way. You're bullying me into this."

This got another big grin from Andy who now started poking his fingers into Peter's stomach. Every poke made Peter jerk and wriggle which let Andy make a new discovery.

"So, you're ticklish?"

"No. No way."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Stop poking."

"Okay. But that means this won't worry you."

Peter nearly died when Andy kept tickling him non-stop for the next five minutes.

"Not ticklish hey?"

Peter gasped for breath, writhing and wriggling uncontrollably while that hand continued its devilish work.

"So. You are ticklish aren't you?"

Talk about the obvious. But Peter knew how he was meant to answer.

"Yes! Yes! Stop please. Please."

"But you told me a fib, Peter. Isn't that being bad?"

Oh no. What was he going to say now? Peter could tell that something was coming.

"If you're fibbing I'll have to punish you won't I?"

Andy had said almost the exact same thing last time, and saying no hadn't worked at all. Maybe saying yes would be better?

"Okay. But not much, because it was self protection."

"So! You're not wimping out this time. Well, tell me where you're most ticklish."

That was diabolical.

"But if I do, that's where you'll tickle me."

"I know. But only for a minute."

Only? This meant that the alternative was something lasting longer.

"And I'll experiment till I find out anyway."

"Only for a minute. You promise?"

"Of course I do."

Peter looked at him uncertainly.

"Would I break my own promise?"

My God. A kind of shiver ran through Peter as anticipation started building for what he knew was going to happen.

"Um. … It's my belly button."

Andy's eyes lit up with evil delight.

"Neat. Give me a look."

A look? Peter nearly freaked when his t-shirt was pulled from his jeans and gathered at chest level.

"Man, look at that innie. It just about reaches your backbone."

Apart from the torture of the minute's tickling, Peter was getting rather uncomfortable, so it was a total relief when his so-called punishment finished and he was released to gather his wits and his dignity. Dignity? What a laugh. Andy didn't even know what that was, and Peter had now reached the conclusion that hanging out, as Andy called it, was always going to involve some kind of rough-housing where he was tossed around. The strange thing about it was the warm shivery feeling when Andy was close. It was kind of embarrassing to be roughed up and given the treatment, another of Andy's sayings, but at the same time it made him feel good. Andy was the first guy who'd ever acted like he was interested in being friends, and even though they were so different Peter couldn't help liking him, even if he was completely overwhelming at times. Andy went to his bed, flopped on his stomach, dangled his arms over the end and looked at Peter sitting in the swivel chair by the computer.

"Come with me tomorrow to talk to coach and we'll get you signed up. Can you swim very far?"

"I don't know. I've never really tried."

"You'll have to do stacks of laps till he thinks you're fit enough. And you know they expect two afternoon's of practice after school don't you? That's the same whatever sport you do."

Peter nodded then grinned when Andy said they'd do it together and started organising which afternoon it would be.

"What? Did I say something funny?"

"No, it's just the way you're running my life."

Andy didn't say anything till he'd interpreted Peter's grin.

"Ha! Someone has to. Which afternoons work for you?"

"All of them except Fridays."

"Oh. Great. That'll make it easy to fit in with Marty."

"Marty? Who’s Marty?"

"He's my friend. We hack round all the time."

This surprised Peter because Andy was mostly with a group at school, but it turned out that Marty had been travelling overseas with his family.

"He gets back tomorrow so you'll meet him soon enough. He'll give you a hard time too, especially when he finds that you don't drink. What do you drink?"

"Just cordial and fruit juice mainly. But mum and I make our own ginger beer and that's the best."

"Make it? I don't believe you."

"We're making some on Saturday morning. ...Why don't you come and help us?"

Andy wanted to know the details and Peter could tell by his interest that he was going to turn up.

"We'll feed the plant some extra sugar and you can take home half a dozen bottles for yourself."

"Not if it tastes weird."

Andy pointed at the computer behind Peter.

"Press that silver button and we'll play a computer game. Which one d'you want?"

"I'm not really into computer games."

"My God. You're joking? What do you do when you're home by yourself? You must spend all your time wanking."

Peter stared at Andy in disbelief and dismay. Disbelief that he'd say something like that, though straight away he realised that was just the kind of thing that he would say, and dismay because of the color that was rising to his cheeks. As quick as he could think he feigned interest in the computer, but as he turned to face the screen he heard Andy's laugh and that just raised his blush to another level. There was movement behind him and he was helpless to move again when Andy held his ear lobes in a light pincer grip.

"Wow. Feel how warm they are. It's great though, isn't it? Which do you like best? In the shower or in bed?"

No way was Peter going to answer.

"Um. What's one of these computer games?"

Andy laughed, gave Peter's ears a nip then grabbed another chair and sat next to him.

"Click on that car and we'll have a race, though you won't have a hope of beating me if you haven't played before."

He was right too for the next twenty minutes, but Peter felt himself getting the knack and then their times got closer and closer.

"Jeez. You must be a natural. I reckon you'll beat me next time."

Andy was looking quite impressed which made Peter feel good and look forward to doing this again.

"So. You don't play computer games? How do you spend your time then?"

"Well. There's always school stuff, but most of the time I read."

"Read? What for?"

Peter couldn't help laughing at the disbelief in Andy's voice.

"I like it. It's my favorite thing of all."

"God, Peter. What planet d’you come from? I can see it's going to be hard work turning you into a real person."

Andy carried on for a while about how useless reading was till he realised he was having no effect and went back to the topic of the swimming team.

"The coach’ll want to see you swimming tomorrow, so make sure you bring your speedos."

"Speedos? I don't wear them."

"What? How can you go on a swim team and not wear them? Shorts will slow you down too much."

"Well I haven't got any."

Andy rolled his eyes, went to his chest of drawers and after rummaging around for a while, produced a pair of light purple speedos, and despite Peter's protests, handed them over.

"Here. You can use these till you get your own. Put them on and see if they fit."

"Now? Um.... I'll try them at home. It's getting close to mealtime so I'd better get going. Mum likes me helping her with the cooking."

"You help with the cooking?"

"Always. It's our best time to have a talk about everything."

Andy had his disbelieving look again and this time Peter wasn't sure if it was about the cooking or the talking, so he thought he'd get in first.

"We had a big talk about you the other day after you helped us shift all that stuff on the veranda."

"You did? What did you say?"

It was Peter's turn to smile now, because his tactic had worked.

"It wasn't me. It was mostly mum. She's really impressed with you."

"Impressed. What's that supposed to mean? She's hardly seen me except for that first day."

"That was enough for her. She calls you a rough diamond."

"Diamond?"

"It means she thinks you're really nice even if you act a rough. She reckons I'm lucky to meet you."

"Of course you are."

He was saying this because it was what he was meant to say, but Peter could feel the undercurrent of bafflement as well.

"So. What else did she say?"

"Well I didn't want to have much to do with you at the start, and when I told her why, she said I was an idiot."

"You didn't? Why not? I thought I was being really friendly."

"You were. But you swore all the time you were with me and then you kept talking about how much you drink."

Andy was looking even more baffled now.

"Peter, I don't get it. Doesn't your mum mind swearing and drinking?"

"She can't stand it. Well, she doesn't mind people having a drink, but not when they get drunk."

"So why say you're an idiot?"

"She said it didn't count. She even made a bet with me about the swearing."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. And she was right too. She said you'd stop swearing when it was just you and me together."

"She was right?"

Andy mulled this over.

"I guess I don't. Shit... I mean that's amazing. I didn't even realise myself. And she worked that out after half an hour of work, and talking while we had a drink and biscuits? That's scary. Now I won't know what to say next time I see her."

Peter couldn't help laughing.

"What?"

"The best thing to do would be to swear and then apologise very seriously. That way she'll know we've talked about it and that she's won her bet. She'll probably burst out laughing and give you a hug. Anyway you don't have to worry. She thinks you're cute."

"She does not. Cute? No one ever said I was cute."

Peter couldn't help laughing at the response this got, and quickly Andy was grinning too.

"Good one, Peter. You got me that time. You had me believing you for a moment."

"Because it's true. That's why."

As soon as Peter left he had second thoughts about the swimming, but the next afternoon he felt better again when Andy dragged him along to the pool.

***

"Hey coach. Peter's my new neighbor and he wants to sign up for swimming. He can be partners with me and Marty for practices and we'll soon get him going."

"All right, Andy. Thanks for your help, but Peter can speak for himself. Go and get changed while I have a talk with him."

The coach gave his attention to Peter and by the time Andy appeared again Peter was feeling very relaxed and talking easily about why he'd joined swimming and finding out what he was expected to do.

"It's up to you, Peter. You can go for a place on the swim team, or just use the time here to improve your general swimming skills. It sounds like Andy wants you in the team, but don't let him push you round. If you've never been on a team before you'll find it hard work. Body surfing's quite hard though, so I suspect you might be better than you think. Swim a few laps with Andy and we'll get an idea of where you stand."

Peter nodded, then asked his question.

"Andy says I have to wear speedos. Can I wear shorts instead?"

"No problems. Wear what you like. It's only in competitions that speedos are the official uniform. You know that shorts will slow you down don't you?"

Peter nodded and headed for the changing room to put on the old faithful shorts he'd swum in for the last two years. He'd just finished pulling them over his hips when Andy appeared.

"Come on. How long are you taking? ...Hey! Where's the speedos?"

"They didn't fit properly and the coach says shorts are okay."

"Oh well. Whatever. Now come and I'll show you how it's done."

They swam a couple of easy laps with the coach watching, then raced the length of the pool before getting out. Peter was really pleased that he wasn’t too far behind Andy and then quite surprised at the reaction from the coach.

"Peter, now that I've seen you I'd like you to try for the team. Your strokes are woeful, but I think you're a natural sprinter. Can you spare half an hour now? I'd like to swim with you and start fixing your action."

Peter looked at Andy.

"Um. Andy's giving me a lift. It's up to him."

"Go for it, Peter. As long we leave by five."

Half the time was swimming but the other half was talking and learning with the coach who got more and more definite that Peter could be a sprinter, and at the end of the half-hour Peter was feeling quite buzzed, and knew he wasn't going to have much choice about the swim team when the coach started joking with Andy.

"I've changed my mind Andy. You can push Peter as much as you like. He'll be beating you in a couple of weeks if you can persuade him to go on the team."

"No problems. I'll kick his butt every night till he says yes."

"Kick his butt?"

Peter jerked back when Andy gave him a thump in the chest.

"Yeah. We're buddies now so I'll be keeping him in line."

The coach shook his head, but grinned at the same time.

"Well. As long as the bruises don't show."

Andy was in a rush so Peter had the quickest shower, changed and ran to meet him at his station wagon, then listened to all the compliments about his swimming while they drove. In ten minutes they were parked and approaching the front door of a large house on a big block. To Peter's surprise Andy opened the door and went in without even knocking.

"No worries Peter. I've got a key for when there's no one here."

There didn't seem to be anyone here at the moment, but Andy looked through an open sliding glass door at the back then started whispering.

"There he is. Cleaning the pool. It was winter where they were travelling so he's been missing his swimming. Watch this."

He kept them both out of sight till Marty was on the near side of the pool and concentrating on the vacuuming, then quickly and quietly as a cat he sneaked close and gave a great yell. Marty leapt around in shock then a big grin appeared.

"You dick! You scared hell out of me."

He grabbed Andy in a friendly hug of welcome then without warning, changed it to a bear hug, lifted him off his feet and with his own yell toppled them both into the pool. Peter made his way out to watch them come up spluttering, laughing, and carrying on in the chest deep water. Trying to dunk each other, they made their way to shallower water and waded to the edge.

"Marty. This is Peter. He's our new buddy."

"Is he? Neat."

Marty stuck his hand out in greeting and Peter automatically shook it. Marty's grin registered an instant too late and as his body slowly moved closer, closer, and closer to the brink, Peter realised how easily he'd let himself be suckered. At the moment when he was about to lose balance the tugging stopped and Marty turned to Andy.

"Is he a wimp? He looks like it."

"I know. I think he's just not used to mucking around."

"It sounds like we'll have fun getting him used to it then."

All this time, and quite uselessly, Peter was resisting as best he could, but with one quick tug there was a third fully clothed body floundering in the pool. Peter opened his mouth to drag in a mouthful of air and straight away had it filled with water, as a great onslaught of splashing hit him front and back. God. How strong were they? It felt like he was buried under a waterfall. The only escape he could think of was to duck down and swim underwater. It nearly worked, but a hand grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him back.

"Grab him, Andy, so we can christen him properly."

Now he was in worse trouble and for a minute his face was inundated with masses of water while he stood helpless, held by Andy's strong arms. It ended when he put his head down and Andy let go because he was the one copping all the water. This seemed to be the signal for everything to stop and Peter could see the enjoyment on Andy's face. It was Marty's curious expression which was the most important though and Peter wondered how to handle it.

"I want my mummy."

Marty and Andy both gaped till they saw the smile their expressions had caused.

"Shit, Andy. I think he's going to be a brat."

They were both grinning though, and when Marty grabbed him Peter didn't try to escape.

"Careful, Marty. We're not allowed to swear."

"The hell we’re not. Who says?"

"His mum."

This answer clearly wasn't one that Marty was expecting and he looked at Andy for more explanation. He didn't get it.

"We're not allowed to get drunk either. Peter doesn't drink."

"What's wrong with him? Has he got an allergy or something?

Marty changed his grip to a full Nelson, making Peter totally helpless. Andy was enjoying this portrayal of all Peter's strange habits and went on.

"He likes reading and he likes studying."

"Oh my God. You're joking?"

"Nope. Except for swimming I've only found one sensible thing about him."

"What's that?"

Peter stared at Andy. Wondering what he was going to say.

"He loves wanking."

There was a great burst of laughter from Marty who released Peter and swung him round. How could Andy have said that? Peter was speechless and at the same time wondering how you could blush in the middle of a swimming pool. Marty watched him closely before turning to Andy.

"Okay. That makes up for all the other weird stuff. Has he showed you yet?"

"Nope. But he could do it now."

"Neat! We better go inside though, in case the neighbors are home."

This couldn't be happening. Were they serious? Peter's panic grew. He knew Andy well enough by now for it to be possible and his eyes darted rapidly back and forth from one to the other, till he froze at Marty's next words.

"Let's get these clothes off. It's more fun that way."

Marty tugged at his wet button-up shirt and started opening it down the front, while Andy pulled his tee over his head. They made their way to the edge of the pool and after climbing out started undoing the laces on their runners. Peter stood at the edge and watched in disbelief as first Marty and then Andy struggled out of the soggy jeans.

"Hurry up Peter. D’you want us to help you?"

"No! No! I'm ...Right."

"Here. I'll give you a hand."

He reached out to Peter and effortlessly pulled him from the pool. It wasn't till his arms were lifted above his head that Peter realised Marty meant he'd help remove the clingy wet clothes. By the time his head was free, Andy was fumbling with the front of his jeans. Peter yanked the shirt off and frantically grabbed at his jeans in case his boxers went with them. The soggy pile of clothes was left on a small table and with his heart beating furiously Peter followed Marty and Andy inside.

"Let's have a drink before we start, though there’s probably only cold water. ...No, you're in luck Peter. There's some apple juice."

Marty and Andy downed their drinks in practically one gulp then turned to Peter as if they were waiting. Peter took a couple of sips then nearly dropped his drink. Marty had slipped his hand down the front of his jocks and was obviously holding himself.

"Man. Let's get going. I'm really in the mood."

Now Andy was doing the same thing.

"Me to. I can't wait to see how Peter does it."

They were both watching him and Peter didn't know what to do.

He felt like running out but he only had his boxers.

He wanted to say no, but was conscious he'd be relegated to wimp class in Marty's mind.

He wanted to ask Andy to help him out of the situation but Marty was the one who'd started it.

It was the huge grin which Andy was trying to hold back that let Peter know that once again he'd been completely suckered. It took Marty and Andy nearly five minutes to stop laughing and for the next half-hour they kept asking when the show was going to be on. Almost the whole time though, they were talking with each other, catching up after Marty's three weeks trip overseas, and Peter listened with interest as they carried on. Andy drove him home then went straight back to Marty's place, and Peter's mum listened with amusement to his explanation for arriving home in cargo shorts three sizes too big and a borrowed T-shirt almost down to his knees.

The next couple of afternoons he worked with the coach for half an hour then did laps till he was exhausted. The evenings he had to himself, since Andy was hanging out with Marty to catch up on everything, and it wasn't till Saturday morning that they really met up properly again. Andy seemed to be really interested in the ginger beer and he'd brought a dozen empty bottles. The sample drink Peter had given him was obviously better than all the comments about ditch-water and sugary piss suggested.

"Andy. You should have washed all these bottles. You'll get sick if you use them like this."

"Shit! I forgot."

Peter watched his mum's eyebrows lift.

"Sorry. I should watch my manners shouldn't I?"

Peter had forecast the laughter correctly, but he'd got the hug wrong. It turned out to be a kiss on the forehead instead.

"Thank you, Andy."

"Sorry about the bottles too. Can I wash them here?"

Peter was pleased that Andy had taken his advice and decided to leave them together for a while.

"I'll do it for you, while you strain the ginger-plant with mum. You won't know what to do otherwise."

It took nearly twenty minutes out in the laundry to clean the bottles properly and when he got back Peter was quite surprised at the atmosphere. The two of them were laughing and chatting easily while they shared the task of filling one set of bottles. The time passed quickly and when the final bottle had been capped and stacked in Andy's carton Peter was given the surprise.

"Go and pack some clothes Peter while I get your lunch ready. Andy will tell you what you need."

"What?...."

They both laughed and his mum answered.

"Andy's come up with a plan and you can stay with him overnight."

"What plan?"

***

The end of Chapter 1.