Paul Pulls Through. - 4. Chapter 4

Paul Pulls Through.

Chapter Four.

***

"No, we'll do these till you get them right."

"I think I can."

"Not quite. But you're nearly there."

"This is murder Paul. We've been going two hours."

This maths helping was slower work than Paul expected. You couldn't just show Jarrod how to do things. You had to take him carefully through every step and practice over and over with the examples. He was getting there, but today's session wouldn't be enough. Jarrod wasn't incomplaing, he was pleased to be actually getting exercises right for a change, and when he sailed through the last batch in only fifteen minutes they were both extra pleased.

"Hey, it's a good menu on Fridays."

Food was the current priority and the school canteen couldn't be beaten for value, so they made the most of it. It was nicer than the stuff Brian cooked too, and the staff were always generous with the servings they doled out.

"Do you know where to find a good Op-shop?"

"Not really, but if we get off at the second station along, there's a big shopping centre and we should find one there."

There were three, according to a guy in a newsagent when they asked, but the first one they tried had what they wanted. It was a big St Vinnie's store and the swimwear, displayed on a sliding rack with clip gadgets instead of jumbled in a box like yesterday, was quickly sorted through. Jarrod carried on because there weren't any red speedos then started laughing when he pulled out a faded light purple pair.

"God, look how daggy these are. I hope they fit."

Somehow, being daggy became the objective for the day and they selected five pairs. In the cubicle Jarrod watched Paul strip.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm just waiting. Try the purple ones first."

"Waiting? What for? "

"What d'you reckon?"

Paul pulled the light purple speedos on and that set them both grinning. They were at least two sizes too big and practically falling off.

"Oh man. That looks too good. Let me try them."

Jarrod stripped and Paul shook his head.

"You can't wear those."

"Yes I can, as long as I tie the cord."

He pulled them off then watched Paul try the next pair, some black ones with a red picture of a little devil imprinted at the front. That was followed by a blue pair with a white front panel, a multi-coloured pair with pictures of guys on surfboards all over them, and a bright yellow pair. The whole time, Jarrod stood there watching, a big grin plastered over his face. Knowing that his dick was being watched for any sign of a bone was enough to make it start and Paul felt his face flushing.

"You idiot, Jarrod. It's your fault for staring."

Jarrod wasn't denying it, and made a few teasing grabs which Paul dodged.

"It's your fault for being a grower."

"Stop perving and try the bathers on."

"That's not going to work so well. Now I've caught it from you."

"Caught it? You make it sound like a disease."

"No way, getting a boner feels too good to be called a disease. Don't you reckon?"

Paul had to agree. He watched Jarrod as he tried the different speedos, pushing his bone sideways into the yellow bathers and complaining it was going to break off, then laughing at the way it jutted up in the loose purple ones.

"I'm getting these. I can't resist."

"You're serious?"

He was, and now he made Paul put the black ones on again.

"Ha, it should say horny, not little. Okay, let's go."

They dressed and went to the cash register. The price tags said three dollars which felt like a rip-off after yesterday's two dollars, but they ended up getting them for only a dollar each. There was a young guy serving and he smiled when he spread the purple bathers on the counter.

"I didn't think we'd ever sell these. They've been here like for ever."

"We're going swimming and didn't have our bathers so Jarrod's wearing them for a joke. We call them the saggy baggies. I'm wearing the devil ones."

"I hope they don't fall to bits then. They're old. Look how the color's faded."

"They're only for today. They'll last that long."

"Well, I'll let you have them for a dollar then."

The swimming was just as enjoyable as the day before and Paul found he spent most of the time smiling. He did end up wearing the saggy baggies when Jarrod made him swap after about an hour. It was no big deal because there was hardly anybody around. God, he wouldn't have worn them if it was that school's training day. The time passed in a flash as they alternated between bouts of energetic mucking round in the pool, and lazing and talking in the sun. Paul told Jarrod about his new sound system and how pleased he was with it and that led to talk about music.

"I've got stacks of CD's Paul. Have you got your gym job tonight?"

"No, it's Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, unless there's extras."

"Well, come to my place then. I've got a sound system and we'll go through them for you."

Paul hesitated. He meant to see his sis tonight. Well, he could put that off.

"Um! What about your parents?"

"My parents? Paul, they'll be pleased. They already like you `cause I told them about you helping me. Come on. Pretty please."

Paul couldn't resist. Not that he even wanted to, and an hour later Jarrod was showing him round an older house with a large backyard.

"Wow, is this your room? It's enormous."

"It's great. It used to be a rumpus room before we shifted here but it's perfect. Let's have a shower and wash the pool smell off before we do anything else."

He dragged his clothes off. Paul expected to wait his turn but Jarrod wanted to keep talking so a second set of clothes was dumped and they walked out of the room and into the short hallway, where they collected fresh towels from a linen press. Paul had first shower, just a quick one, and feeling all fresh from the shampoo he'd been given, rubbed his head dry while Jarrod, chatting away, washed himself equally quickly. Jarrod led the way, not back to his room but into the kitchen so they could have a snack, and there discovered a note on the main bench.

'Out for tea, back after ten, food's in the oven.'

"I wonder what mum's left? ...Yum. I hope you like lasagna?"

Paul absolutely loved lasagna and hadn't had a home-made one like this since the year before last at his foster home, and his eyes lit up.

"Well, now I'm staying for sure. At least till after tea."

"Hey, stay here all night. Do they let you do that?"

"As long as I let them know where I'll be."

"Ring them up then, while I make our snacks."

"Are you sure Jarrod? Will it be all right with your parents?"

"What's with you Paul? Of course it's all right. Anyone can stay if I want them to."

He undocked the cordless phone and handed it over as if there was nothing else to say, then grinned.

"Pretty please!"

Tony answered and said Brian wasn't there yet. That was normal. He wasn't officially on duty till six o'clock and often went out after he'd unlocked the place, to get food or other supplies. Tony was curious, because Paul hardly ever rang in but he didn't find out much.

"Who was that?"

"Just one of the guys. The supervisor's not there so I'll ring again after six o'clock."

Jarrod took a sandwich maker from a cupboard and ten minutes later they were finishing off their second round of toasted cheese and tomato.

"Come on. I'll show you the CDs."

The sound system was good, but Paul knew his was better, though he wasn't going to say that. He picked out a few CDs and they started listening. Wasn't Jarrod going to get dressed? They still only had towels wrapped round them. The towels lasted till Jarrod started grooving to a song he really liked and his fell off.

"Whoo! ...Sexy hey?"

He laughed at Paul's startled look then went to a cupboard, opened a drawer and pulled on a pair of red jocks. He pulled out another pair, blue this time and tossed them over.

"I like fresh things after a shower, don't you?"

"Ah. ...Sure, but you don't have to give me yours."

Jarrod gave a dismissive wave of his hand, and not wanting to make a big deal Paul stepped into the jocks. He wasn't used to them. He wore boxers himself and the jocks at modelling were the only others he'd worn since he was little. The rest of the evening was great. They listened to the music, ate the lasagna after it had heated in the oven, watched a DVD, and when Jarrod's parents arrived had a short talk with them.
At about a quarter to eleven Jarrod said he was going to bed. Paul expected he would be in the spare bedroom he'd been shown earlier, but Jarrod wasn't having that.

"No way, you're staying here so we can talk. There's plenty of room and I haven't got B.O."

Paul was actually kind of shocked. Did he mean there was room in the room, or room in the bed? He must mean the bed because he'd glanced at it when he said there was plenty of room. Jarrod disappeared to the bathroom, returned, stripped to his jocks and scrambled into bed. Was that all he wore? Paul took his turn in the bathroom and rather nervously took off his shorts and T-shirt. Jarrod was grinning and Paul realised he was doing this on purpose. More teasing. Well, too bad. He'd turn the tables somehow. He slipped beneath the covers, wriggled close as if he was cuddling, then kept wriggling till Jarrod was shoved out the other side and onto the floor. A face full of mock shock popped up from the side of the bed.

"Right, you've had it."

Paul was expecting to be shoved out the other side but it didn't happen. Instead Jarrod scrambled under the covers, with difficulty since Paul was holding them, and started tickling. Paul jerked away in surprise and grabbed at Jarrod's hands. That worked, but when Jarrod rolled on top of him he let go because it felt like he was holding him there. The hands started tickling again. Paul wriggled, tipped Jarrod off and made another try at grabbing his hands. Jarrod was ready this time and it took quite a struggle to capture them.

"No tickling."

"Why not?"

"I can't stand it."

"Liar. You love it."

"Well. ...I still can't stand it."

"I know. Me too. Let me go or I'll get you."

"Get me? I don't see how. And you'll just start tickling again if I do."

Jarrod started another struggle and this time Paul used his extra strength and weight to keep him pinned down. Jarrod's thigh pressed against his groin. Paul moved away but the thigh followed and pressed again.

"What are you doing?"

"I told you I'd get you. Are you going to let go?"

"No way."

Jarrod's thigh did its thing and Paul was got. How he'd lasted so long with their bodies so close he didn't know, and this last pressure really set him off.

"You're evil."

"I know. So? ...Are you going to let go?"

Paul did that, curled up on his side with his knees near his chest and braced for the tickle attack. It came.

"Help, help, murder. I give up. You win."

"No way. This is fun. "

He attacked again and Paul begged for mercy.

"All right. Lie on your back."

"My back? What for?"

That would be embarrassing, and besides it sounded like Jarrod had some sort of plan.

"Five minutes of tiny tickles and then I'll stop."

"No way. More cheating."

Another energetic attack had Paul relenting. He was curious about this tiny tickling thing too.

"All right. All right. What do I have to do?"

What was he in for? Jarrod had a look on his face.

"Put your hands behind your head and keep them there."

"And?"

"I find out where you're ticklish."

Paul stared at him.

"What's tiny tickling?"

"You'll see."

"This is embarrassing."

"Me too. Come on, roll over."

Paul looked at Jarrod's jocks which were straining as much as his own. It made it slightly easier to twist onto his back, but not much. Jarrod certainly didn't look embarrassed.

"Whoo! When you bone, you really bone don't you?"

Paul turned bright red, which delighted Jarrod.

"Hey, don't wreck those jocks."

"Very funny, can we forget about my bone and get the tickling over?"

"Not yet, I'm training you."

"Training?"

"So you don't worry about your boner. You're the fastest grower I've ever seen. Weren't you ever in any teams?"

"Ah! ...Not for a few years. I like running, and hardly anyone does that."

"Running? That's hard work. No wonder you're so strong. Are you ready for the next bit of training?"

"I don't think so."

"Too bad. Let's have a show."

And so saying he flipped Paul's jocks down so his bone was in full view. Reflexively Paul's hands left his neck and reached to cover himself. God, this was unbelievable.

"Weak! You said you'd keep your hands behind your head."

"What d'you expect? I don't see you flashing yours all over the place."

Jarrod flipped to a kneeling position, lifted one knee then the other, then dropped his red jocks beside the bed.

"There. No big deal. Now put your hands back."

Paul stared. He couldn't help it with Jarrod's dick so close. There was a snort of laughter.

"You've never seen another bone have you?"

"Um. ..Not really."

That wasn't quite true. He'd seen stacks of them at Gaycheck, but that wasn't for real like this.

"Wow that's amazing. No wonder you freak out. What do you think of mine?"

Gods! How was he meant to answer a question like that without letting Jarrod know what he really thought.

"It's...Um... It's big!"

Jarrod laughed and nodded.

"Yeah, they all say that. Come on, hands behind your head."

"All right, but I get to do the same when you finish."

"Nope. I'm too ticklish."

He must be joking? He was. Paul put his hands behind his head and for what had to be longer than five minutes wriggled and reacted while Jarrod tickled practically every part of his body. He didn't know what to make of it either. The tickles were gentle, all done with one finger, and sent goosebumps and quivers as they went to new places. Jarrod chatted the whole time. Paul answered the questions but was otherwise quiet, trying to figure Jarrod out. It had to be part of this treatment plan.
At one stage he nearly leapt out of the bed when the moving finger tickled his balls. This couldn't be. He'd had a fantasy like this last night in bed, and now the real thing was happening. It felt spooky. Jarrod flopped on his back and put his hands behind his head. Paul started tickling and couldn't help laughing at Jarrod's strong reactions. He was more ticklish than Paul. Well, whatever it meant, Paul was certainly getting the treatment, with Jarrod's big boner so conspicuous right in front of his eyes and his own straining away as well. He even tickled Jarrod's balls quickly, because somehow he knew he'd be teased if he chickened out. Paul flopped on his back and pulled the covers over them both.
Jarrod started talking about plans for the next day, which turned out to be working in the garden and playing squash. About ten minutes later Jarrod clicked the bench light, said goodnight, and apparently went to sleep almost instantly. Paul stayed awake, very conscious of the warm skin pressing against him in this three-quarter bed, which despite Jarrod's claims otherwise, meant they had to keep close, thinking about the day's events, happy, puzzled, intrigued, and rather amazed at the difference between the quiet, reserved Jarrod in maths classes and the Jarrod who appeared when they were mucking round together. The knowledge that they were friends, good friends after this day, was his final happy thought before sleep took over.

***

The garden job took all morning and was hard work. Paul was kitted out completely with Jarrod's clothes, old shorts, t-shirt, socks and runners so his own wouldn't get wrecked, and for over four hours they wielded the crowbar, moved earth, dug through the hard clay, carried posts and sleepers, till they'd built a retaining wall for a section of the garden. In the afternoon that went to play squash for an hour and at about four o'clock Paul set off for home feeling extra happy and with a bunch of CDs Jarrod had loaned him. His sis wasn't there when he dropped round, which he expected on weekends really, so he spent the evening in his room listening to the CDs. He was so pleased he'd spent the extra money for the system. It was definitely worth it and the hi-fi headphones were the best idea of all.

The end of Chapter Four.