Carter's Shadow - 25. Chapter 25

"What's wrong with you?" West asked, glancing at Matt who was grinning broadly and limping along behind him.

"Nothing," Matt replied, the strange grin still plastered across his face. And West rolled his eyes shaking his head as they continued through to his lockers.

It had been a rough morning for West. He hadn't slept much the night before, sleep still stinging his eyes reminding him that he should be in bed with the covers pulled up tightly, snoring blissfully. He just kept running through his conversation with Tony and how upset he had been. West shook his head to clear the guilt as he rifled through the locker, glancing over at Matt who was leaning against the locker, the dreamy far-away grin still plastered across his face.

"What?" West asked again a little irritably.

"Nothing," Matt repeated, letting out a long sigh and staring up at the ceiling.

West stared at his friend and shook his head. "You're a crack monkey," he commented, closing the locker and tucking his books under his arm.

"Yep." Matt blew out another contented breath as he struggled to push himself up from the bank of lockers.

"Did you finally score with Mel last night?" West asked, the two of them heading towards Chemistry.

"Nope." Matt grinned again, a wave of euphoria that made the normally excitable winger extraordinarily mellow. A tell-tale glow on his face said he'd gotten laid for the first time. But if it wasn't Mel, then who? West would know if there was someone else Matt was interested in.

"Ok, so are you going to tell me who painted that grin on your face?" West asked, taking a moment to nod at a couple of his teammates who were heading in the other direction. One of them nodded back, the other plainly ignored him.

"It's a secret," Matt said again dreamily.

"Great," West muttered darkly, heading in to another long Chemistry session with Mister Chiasson, resident taskmaster and demon of the chemistry lab. It was a tough class. Chiasson didn't seem to care that the year was nearly over, and seemed more than content to actually teach his class something, unlike some of the other teachers who felt that their job was done and they were really nothing more than babysitters.

West occasionally glanced over at Matt, who was abnormally distracted throughout the period, quite to the point of drawing the attention of a couple of other students who were looking at him expectantly for his usual witty wisecrack, or clownish antics. Even Mister Chiasson, a half-hour into the period, was eyeing Matt with a certain amount of suspicion anticipating what Matt was hiding up his sleeve.

Mel leaned over and savagely nudged West in the ribs, causing him to turn in surprise and rub his newly assaulted side as he looked at her. She smiled at him, and threw him a questioning look nodding across to Matt.

West shook his head and shrugged; he was just as lost as she was.

Chiasson stopped his writing on the blackboard, turning to survey the room with his hard-eyed glance, mostly for show. Those that had bothered to actually get to know the chemistry teacher, knew that he wasn't really as mean as he liked to act in class, but that didn't stop him from instilling terror in the hearts of freshmen everywhere.

"What's going on?" he demanded, his eyes going straight to Matt who didn't seem to notice the entire class's attention was fixed upon him. He was staring at the periodic table on the wall and humming lightly to himself.

"Matthew!" Chiasson repeated. "Pay attention!"

Matt smiled pleasantly and bent back to his notebook, obediently hurrying to catch up.

The look on Chiasson's face was priceless. He actually gaped. There had been no witty comment back, no petulant faces, nothing but total obedience. And from Matt that was far more effective at disrupting the class than any wisecrack could ever be.

Chiasson's eyes narrowed, like a man expecting a trick. His eyes flicked first to West, Matt's usual partner in crime, and then over to Mel, who was happily chewing gum watching the show, one foot up on her desk as she smirked.

The smirk was enough to push Chiasson over the edge. "All right, that's enough!' he demanded. "Matt, go to the office."

"But sir!" Matt protested.

"Just go," Chiasson said, holding open the door and gesturing outside.

Matt rose, collected his books and headed out, smiling the entire time. He was still smiling when Chiasson closed the door and walked back to his broad desk at the front of the classroom.

"What did he do?" West asked in confusion.

"Every so often," Chiasson said looking towards the door, "it's a good idea to punish Matt for the stuff that he's done that you don't know about and he thinks he got away with."

"But that's not fair," West insisted.

"Nope," Chiasson agreed. "But neither is finding he's put super glue on my lab goggles again... Or hidden one of those dissection frogs inside my briefcase.... Or a myriad of things I've had to put up with over the last four years. Besides," Chiasson paused, "the last thing we need to do is have young Matt learning the chemical components of gun powder, which by the way is the subject of the day..."

* * *

Peter was, as usual, agitated. Blake was being odd, which wasn't all that surprising, as Blake was typically an odd guy; but he just seemed more so that day. Like he was hiding something, which bugged Peter because he wanted to ask about it.

They were working in the computer lab, trying to get the computer to print the word 'hello.' Typically, it was stubbornly refusing to co-operate with Peter. No matter how much cajoling and begging he did with it, the computer steadfastly ignored him.

"You're doing it wrong," Blake observed leaning down to start typing, his arms around Peter as he rested his chin on his friend's shoulder. "You're not formatting the commands correctly. Look, if you..."

Peter sighed and turned slightly to look at Blake, bright-eyed and always happy and Peter envied him that. Blake had a way of encouraging people around him, and Peter was finding that he liked just hanging out with Blake. He was a best friend he could count on and who seemed so intent on pulling Peter out of his shell.

Blake spared a glance at Peter and rolled his eyes, "Are you paying attention?"

"Yes," Peter nodded.

Blake sighed and Peter felt the arms tighten around him as Blake hugged him a moment, pressing his cheek against Peter's. "There," Blake said matter-of-factly. "You wanted one, you got one."

"We're in school!" Peter whispered, glancing around the computer lab. No one was paying attention--too busy playing games, surfing for porn behind the teacher's back, or doing their homework. No one was paying any attention to the guys at the back.

"So?" Blake replied sitting back at his own computer. "We're friends; girls hug all the time, why can't we?"

"'Cause it's...well...." Peter balked.

"Shock horror!" Blake grinned again. "You mean it might make them think we're gay?" he laughed. "Well," his voice dipped, "we are."

"Well, I kinda don't want it common knowledge," Peter grumbled as he hit enter and started the next computer problem.

"You just don't want your boyfriend finding out," Blake smirked playfully as he started on his own problem.

"He's not my boyfriend," Peter hissed.

"You keep saying that." Blake turned, "Look, I'm your friend, right? I tell you stuff..." Blake stopped and sighed, "Right, I slept with Matt, West's best friend."

Peter gaped; he was having a hard enough time trying to juggle coming to grips with his sexuality, and Blake, two years younger than he was, was having sex with jocks.

"Wow," he murmured, the shock still settling.

"Yeah," Blake said with a grin. "He's..." he glanced around as the teacher swept by on his usual patrol to make sure the students were working, and after he passed Blake held up his hands a considerable distance apart.

"Wow!" Peter said again, this time staring in disbelief at the hands.

"And it was none of the usual, 'Oh I'm so drunk right now, horny, and my girlfriend's not here...'," Blake grinned. "He..." he blushed. "He was very..." Blake held up his hands again and pushed them together and apart a few times rapidly.

Peter blinked, "Uh?"

Blake rolled his eyes, "You really are a virgin, aren't you."

"So it was good?" Peter pressed.

"Very!" Blake grinned.

"Are you going to see him again?" Peter questioned.

Blake smiled. "I don't know," he sighed. "One thing you gotta know about guys like that is they are only good until the first skirt twitches their way; then that's it--you're out on the curb."

Peter frowned, "Really?"

"Well, not all of them," Blake shrugged. "Just, I've been here before. Matt's not the only jock I've had..."

"You and West?" Peter asked, a slight hitch to his voice, which caused Blake to grin as he picked up on the slight hint of jealousy.

"No..." Blake said slowly, "West's a boy scout. No, someone else on the team."

Peter turned and stared thoughtfully at his screen, someone else on the team. "Who?" he asked turning back, curiosity getting the better of him.

"No one, a total closet case," Blake said, aware that he'd probably said too much as it was and wanted to distance himself from the whole conversation.

"I'm confused," Peter said, frowning.

"That's a given, you're still in the closet," Blake quipped back.

"No," Peter grinned at the joke, "but I mean 'another' hockey player's gay?"

Blake sighed, "It happens more often than you think. Testosterone, alcohol and expectations. Like some guys show even the faintest hint of homosexuality as a kid and they are immediately enrolled in the first sports program to become available, in the hopes that by doing something manly they will forget all about playing with dolls. It's sad really, and hockey is the number one guy's sport around here--you're not Canadian if you don't have a hockey stick and two teeth missing."

Peter looked down a moment, "I never played, my brother was the sports nut."

"Bobby?" Blake asked. "Yeah, for twins you two don't act alike."

Peter grinned, "That's a good thing; I got the brains, he got brawn."

"Hey, least you got the looks too." Blake nudged his friend, "You know, you're pretty cool once you relax."

"Thanks," Peter smiled in return. "I just have a hard time with people, that's all."

"People like West?" Blake asked. "Seriously, have you ever thought about him when you," Blake made a gesture under the table moving his fist up and down rapidly over his crotch.

Peter turned scarlet. Blake just grinned.

"I..." he stuttered.

Blake grinned, "Well I have, I mean he's cute in that hick-country-boy kind of way. And now think of him once he's in uniform..."

"Uniform?" Peter's brow furrowed.

"Yeah, he's joining the Marines once school's done," Blake nodded.

"Marines...what, the US Marines?" Peter again stared at his screen.

"What's wrong?" Blake asked, suddenly concerned, reaching out to touch Peter's arm.

"N-nothing," Peter replied. "It's just, he's out now, won't that be a problem for him? Don't they arrest gay guys and put them in prison?"

Blake arched an eyebrow, "Don't ask don't tell." He shrugged, "I think that's the policy."

"But what if they don't ask but find out anyway?" Peter looked concerned. "Would they let him in?"

"I don't know," Blake replied. "I mean, it's silly, what are they so afraid of--a couple of gay guys in a foxhole together making out while the enemy advances? I mean, if they let women in why not gay men? If anything I'd think they'd be less likely to make out with another soldier than a girl would... isn't it like an ultimate guy fantasy--girls with machine guns?"

"You're the comic book fan," Peter observed.

"Yeah, I tend to stay away from that kind of comic book, I prefer Batman and stuff..."

"You just like the tights," Peter grinned.

"Well, George Clooney was hot in the Batman film," Blake shrugged. "And I mean, did you see the size of that codpiece?"

"I have to invite West over to Will's house on Friday," Peter blurted out suddenly.

Blake turned, "You have to ask West out?"

"No, not ask him out, Will wants me to invite him for the family pasta night." Peter sighed, "He wants to meet West properly."

"Why, he know you like him or something?" Blake asked curiously.

"No, we kissed..." Peter admitted.

"I knew it!" Blake stood up and pointed, "I was right!"

The whole class turned and stared at the excited sixteen-year-old who was very aware that they were in the middle of class.

"You knew what?" The computer studies teacher asked, looking up from the bank of computers across from theirs.

"That..." Blake searched for an answer, "that a program loop would make this computer program more efficient, sir."

The teacher gave Blake one of those 'I'm not buying it looks', "Well perhaps you should finish the problem in question and avoid the victory dance?"

"Sir," Blake nodded, sitting back down and grinning over at Peter sheepishly. "Sorry," he whispered.

Peter blushed, "My fault, I should have told you yesterday."

"Does he kiss good?" Blake asked, hungry for details.

"I was too... shocked to pay attention, I..." he sighed, "I kissed him back. And I told Will, now Will wants me to bring him over."

"Oh, a meet the parents," Blake nodded.

"Will's not my parent."

"No, but he's the closest thing to a dad you have," Blake shrugged. "In many ways that makes it harder for you to introduce West to him. The pressure's on..."

"Well it wasn't until you pointed it out," Peter grimaced. "Thanks."

"So, details..." Blake insisted.

"I didn't ask you for details about Matt," Peter pointed out.

"Yeah, but that's 'cause you're too shy," Blake nodded. "If you must know, we took turns--he did me, then I did him. He was a bit of a wuss, though..."

"How come?" Peter asked curiously.

"Well, it hurts at first," Blake said. "Wow, you need to hurry up and get West into bed and find this stuff out..."

"Shut up," Peter pushed Blake. "It's not like that. We only kissed once, he's still an asshole."

"You mean you want his asshole..."

"Now you're an asshole," Peter glared.

Blake looked around the room, and reached across to cup Peter through the front of his jeans, giving a light squeeze and feeling how firm it was, "You're turned on."

"Stop!" Peter looked around the computer lab, turning bright red again, his hand going to remove Blake's.

Blake looked up at Peter, fended off the hand, and continued to rub through the jeans.

"Is everything all right, Peter?" the teacher asked looking up from his desk.

Peter froze as he stared dumbstruck at the teacher, "I..err..." Blake continued to massage him through his jeans.

"You're still stuck?" the teacher asked, as he walked around to the front of the class and grabbed his blue marker. "Let me show you again."

Peter was stuck; he swallowed, as he felt Blake's hand worm its way up to unzip his trousers. He threw a glance at Blake who was grinning evilly.

"I...errr..." he swallowed again, feeling Blake's hand slip into his jeans.

"The answer's easy," the teacher said looking back over his shoulder. "Copy this down."

Peter was trapped and he knew it. He let go of Blake's wrist and picked up his pencil, nearly leaning out of his skin as Blake got his hand up inside the plaid boxers Peter was wearing and touched him for the first time.

The teacher looked at Peter expectantly. "So where would you start?" he asked.

Peter tried to get away, slip the chair to one side, but the desks were so narrow that he was stuck. And Blake now had a firm hold of him, moving the hand up and down expertly.

"I'd...errr... start with...the...command?" Peter said, beginning to sweat as he swallowed. Blake pulled back his foreskin and flicked the head lightly with his slender fingers.

"Well," the teacher said, "it's a bit more complicated that that; firstly we..." He continued to detail the problem on the board, and Peter glanced at Blake pleadingly. Blake didn't stop, he simply picked up speed.

"Now what?" the teacher asked.

"We...." Peter felt his hips begin to lift, and he swallowed again, forcing himself to focus on the teacher, on the board, and not on Blake's hand and what he was doing.

"You're not even trying," the teacher accused. "You have to concentrate."

"I'm trying," Peter bit back.

The teacher nodded and turned back to his board. "This is what comes next," he scribbled more notes as Peter felt the familiar build-up beginning.

He fought valiantly to stop it, but Blake was watching him, gauging the shallow breaths.

"So now what?" the teacher asked.

"We finish it ...off?" Peter asked.

"Exactly," the teacher said turning back, just as Blake seized his moment and his hand tightened around Peter, as Peter gasped and finally let it go, the pressure of Blake's hand sending him over the edge, quivering as Blake pulled his hand back.

The teacher turned back, "And there we go, we're done."

"T-thanks...sir..." Peter gulped.

Blake came up, "Sorry I dropped my pen." He held it up, smiled and went back to his own work.

The teacher nodded and walked back to his workstation. And Peter adjusted himself and zipped himself up trying not to think about the mess he was now left with, looking accusingly over at Blake, who was still smiling despite his best efforts to hide it.

"I...that...but..." Peter murmured.

"Meh," Blake replied, "benefits of friendship." He grinned, "And you seemed to enjoy it."

"I'm..." he dipped his voice. "We're in class!" he hissed angrily.

"Yep," Blake nodded, "and it was fun, no one saw."

"That's not the point," Peter complained, trying to calm down from his embarrassment, and the rush of euphoria from his first ever...

Blake smiled, "Admit it, it was fun."

Peter blushed again as he looked down, glancing about and he let a small smile escape as he glanced at his friend. And Blake nodded in satisfaction.