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    Arch Hunter
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Black Fox: The Awakening - 4. Chapter 4 - The Drive

We woke up naked and snuggling. If not for Owen's cast, I would probably just climb him and sleep on top of him all night. A few more weeks and the damn thing will be gone.

It was limiting us in many ways - not only in sex - but I had a feeling it was making Owen unhappy. He used to fill his days with things that involved using both hands and now he hardly knew what to do with his time. We were spending plenty playing board games or going for walks but it wasn't the same. At least I could make sure he didn't have to worry about beating his meat with his left hand…

I uncovered us gently. Owen was still sleeping and snoring silently but he was hard as ever down there. I didn't need another invitation. I positioned myself between his legs and examined the rock-hard sculpture in front of me. I’m not a size queen. After all, I had fallen for Owen way before he revealed the contents of his boxer briefs to me. I would still love him with a three-inch cocklet just the same. I wasn't big myself after all…

I licked it gently until it was shining with my saliva. It started twitching almost immediately. Then I put it into my mouth. I wasn't in a hurry this morning, so I took my time, slowly swallowing it all the way until the head hit my throat, and then, even slower, going back up, squeezing it tightly with my lips, just to release the head with a gentle pop. That gave me a feeling I was properly enjoying every little inch and every patch of skin. I wish I could play with his cock all day. Around my fifth repetition, Owen stretched and yawned.

"Good morning," I gave him a happy grin in between the sucks.

"I couldn't imagine it being any better," he replied with a husky voice.

"Should I let you sleep?" I asked.

"No, keep doing what you're doing. I will close my eyes for just a few more minutes."

I was happy he said that. I licked my lips and went back to work patiently working on Owen's length in slo-mo. It wasn't about making him cum. That was his morning happiness massage. I concentrated on my tongue work and the taste of his precum dripping from his slit. At some point, I started thinking about other things, especially the events of the past day.

I didn't know how much time had passed. Maybe twenty minutes, maybe forty, and I was completely spaced out. Owen was hardly making any sounds except for his deep breathing, so it was a shock for me when his cock started shooting. I stuck out my tongue and started tickling the underside of his glans eagerly as string after string of hot cum erupted from the tip. Most of it landed on his belly but some I managed to catch with my tongue.

"Oh my god…" he breathed out after it was over. "This is growing to be my favourite alarm clock setting…"

I giggled and crawled over him to kiss him. I got all sticky but I didn't mind. It only meant there was another excuse to shower together.

Then the doorbell rang downstairs.

"Will someone get it?" I asked.

"Yeah, don’t worry. Let's cuddle a little longer."

I didn’t mind. It was a great idea. I placed my head on Owen’s chest and listened to the beating of his heart. I glanced through the window. The lightning had struck the tree, rending it right down the middle. Somehow, both sides were still standing but I wasn’t sure if it would last.

"I liked it," Owen said, correctly guessing the direction I was looking at. "I liked how it rustled in the night and how the leaves disrupted the sunlight."

I gave Owen a tender look. I don’t remember him being so… I don’t know, poetic?

"Do you think it will live?" I asked.

"I’m not sure. I don’t know shit about trees. It’s weird it hit the tree and not the lightning rod."

"Yeah, weird," I agreed. "Be glad it didn’t hit us while we were... you know."

"Yeah,” he agreed. “That would be an interesting way to die, though."

"Do you think we would qualify for Darwin’s Award?"

“Darwin’s what?” Owen raised his eyebrows.

“Didn’t you hear about it? Someone made special awards for people dying because of their stupidity.”

"Oh. Having sex under the sky during the most violent thunderstorm in years? I guess we would qualify."

I sighed. "But we survived. Now we have to find other ways to get famous."

"It would be a bonus if we didn’t have to, you know, die in the process," Owen said.

"Oh," I jerked my head and gave him a peck on his forehead. "That reminds me of something."

I rolled off of Owen and reached for my phone.

"Nice!" I exclaimed after opening Instagram.

"What’s so nice?"

"We’re nice, that’s what’s nice," I said triumphantly and showed him the screen.

"Whoa, we are famous," he said as he took the phone away from me. "It’s like, twice the likes we’ve ever had. Did you post it?"

"No," I smiled, "I sent it to Michael so he could decide if it was appropriate for the band page."

"Oh... okay."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Owen, tell me."

"I mean it, it’s nothing. It’s just… are you sure we want to do it? What if something goes wrong between us? Do we want to showcase each stage of our relationship to the world?"

"I’m not showing off each stage," I said, grabbing his balls. He chuckled.

"Okay, okay… just don’t do that every day," Owen capitulated. "I will think about it some more. See, the more I think about it, the more I am sure I don’t want to be famous. I wouldn’t like people to start recognizing me in the mall and such shit."

"Then why are you in a band?" I asked curiously.

"I like music. And, I’m a drummer. No one pays attention to the drummers… wait, what’s that?" he asked as he scrolled my Instagram wall.

"What’s what?" I asked and took the phone back from him.

There was a drawing. A very good Photoshop drawing full of subtle details and well-crafted shadows. The drawing was of us. Way better than the ones I’d seen earlier but in the same style.

We were naked - at least from the waist up but the drawing was cropped so low that it was obvious that we weren’t wearing any underwear. We were locked in a tight embrace and our lips were just an inch from each other, fractions of a second before meeting in a passionate kiss. The dynamics of the drawing was unmistakable and it was full of erotic energy.

"Fuck me!" I commented.

"Alex!" Owen laughed. "It always startles me when you cuss."

"It’s posted by our fanclub on Instagram," I added. “I’ve seen it before but the quality of this one…”

"Yeah, they’re probably run by Junior High School girls who dream they will marry one of us one day."

"Some seem fine with us being gay, though." I hesitated for a moment and pressed a heart button.

“That reminds me we forgot to make Ian delete the photos he took of us.”

I giggled. “Let’s hope we don’t see them online today.”

Owen placed his wrist on his forehead. "This has already gone out of control."

"Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle that. Think of something else."

"Like what?"

"Like the smell of your balls in the morning." I let go of his balls I was cupping for the past few minutes and moved my hand to his nose.

"Fuck, Alex!" Owen laughed again. "I still can’t tell when you’re a polite Alex and when you’re a naughty Alex."

"If we’re naked in your bed, there’s a good chance it’s the latter." I smiled. "But you know, I only reveal my naughty side for the ones I love. And since you’re the only one I love…" I whispered and moved my lips up to kiss him again. But then we heard footsteps on the staircase. I managed to roll from him and cover us with the sheets just in time.

A few seconds later, there was knocking.

"Come in!" Owen said.

It was his dad. At first, he seemed taken aback. Perhaps he expected us to be more decent. He cleared his throat.

"Boys, I didn’t want to interrupt you but there’s important news. Owen, the driver that hit you. He escaped."

***

I couldn’t believe it. The police came and said the man escaped from the arrest. There were no signs of breaking out - one evening he was there and in the morning, he was not. He was currently being hunted and the police shared his mugshot. Owen’s family was advised to be cautious and wait for news. What did it even mean to be cautious?

“What else did they say?” I asked.

“Nothing, really. This hasn’t been released to the public yet, so we just have to wait.

I was tempted to stay and wait for some developments but it could just as well be days or even weeks. And I had my own problems to face, so I shared breakfast with Owen's family and went straight home.

Chris and Dad were nowhere to be seen. It was just Mum, about to start working on the Sunday meal.

"Hi Mum, where's everybody?"

"Hi, Honey, Chris is at the gym. Dad is in the bedroom," she said, putting a little emphasis on the last sentence.

"Oh, so you didn't talk to him yet…"

"No, but don't worry about it. How was your sleepover?"

"Amazing. Thanks for letting me stay, Mum."

"I'm happy to hear it. Go get changed. I don’t recognize this t-shirt so I’m guessing it’s Owen’s. Leave your dad to me. If he doesn’t come to you on his knees begging you for forgiveness, I’ll change the locks and throw him out on the streets.”

“I hope it’s not necessary,” I said.

“Me too but I won’t hesitate even if it means I have to work double shifts.”

“No Mum, you won’t have to. Our gig schedule is full, I can chip in.”

She placed her hand on my shoulder. “That’s sweet,” she said. “I’ll handle him. You go to your room now.”

I already opened my mouth to start telling her about that driver’s escape but stopped myself. The news wasn’t public yet and I didn’t want to come off as the one to spread gossip.

Luck had it, in that exact moment, the door to my parents' bedroom opened and my dad emerged. His hair was a mess and his eyes were bloodshot. He didn't even look at me but went straight to the bathroom and locked the door behind him. I knew it was a waste of time to talk to him before he had his second coffee, so I sighed and went upstairs.

Back in my room, I undressed and started unpacking when I spotted something shiny on the very bottom of my backpack. I reached to fish it out only to see the tiny silver whistle Owen got from Ryan.

"How did you get here, little fellow?" I murmured to myself and was about to blow the whistle when I remembered Ryan's words. Only use it as the last resort. Sure, I could use some help dealing with Dad, but it wasn’t a matter of life and death just yet.

Still just in my briefs, I sat on the bed and dialled Owen's number.

"Hey babe," he said.

"Hey Owen, how are you feeling?"

"Good, I guess. You miss me already?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. But I wanted to ask you… I just found the whistle in my backpack. Did you put it there?"

"Yes, I did."

"Why?"

"The gift was for both of us. And since I'd kill myself anyway if something happened to you, I figured it would be better if you kept it."

"Owen…"

"I mean it, babe. I will sleep better if you have it."

"But now I'm worried about you!" I complained.

"Then you better hang out with me as much as you can."

"Oh my god, Owen," I said, hearing my voice break, "I love you so much."

"I love you, too, Alex. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me and I'll protect you no matter what."

"I can take care of myself, too, you know?" I smiled and sniffed.

"I know, babe. Have you talked to your dad yet?"

"No, I haven't. He just woke up and he's not functional yet."

"I see," Owen said. "Keep me in the loop, okay? I gotta go."

"Uh, Owen? We were supposed to talk about that camp next month. When will you know more details?"

"Ah yes, sorry. I already know something but I’ll tell you later. We’re totally going, that’s all you need to worry about."

"Amazing. I just need to know the details to get the green light from my Mum."

"Sure thing. Let’s talk about it next time we meet. Now I really have to go. I love you, Alex."

"Owen, wait! One last thing."

"Okay, what's that?"

"Would you… I thought… would you take me on a date this week?"

"On a date? What do you mean?" He hesitated on the other end of the line.

"I mean, you know. Go hit the town, maybe go to a fancy restaurant, see a movie. You know, the usual stuff."

"Sure! Great idea. With all the things that have been going on, we deserve to treat ourselves, right? But I’ll ask Mum and Dad. You know… I’m supposed to be cautious."

I smiled from ear to ear. " Yeah right, we’ll be as cautious as ever! Okay, I'm not stopping you, we'll talk about it later. I love you too, byeeee!"

I hung up. Something about going on a date with Owen made me all giddy. I couldn't wait to try new food with him, hold hands in the cinema, take some nice couple selfies… I mean, selfies weren't that important but I really regretted that I hadn't worn that bowtie yesterday, it would look so cool!

***

I checked the local news site and the hit&runner’s escape made the headlines. So, the news was out on the street. There was his photo in the article I clicked on. Just an average, dark-haired man, probably my dad’s age, maybe a bit younger. Nothing remarkable about him except for the fact that he escaped the scene after hitting Owen and now somehow he managed to escape from the police station jail. After all that happened, I didn’t like hearing strange news.

The door to my room was open so Dad only knocked to distract me from reading the website.

"Hi," he said.

I rotated on my chair to face him. "Hi," I said.

I stared at him anxiously but he looked away as if contemplating his next words. I couldn't tell whether he was sorry, angry or hungover. Dad used to have his little outbursts from time to time but before I came out to him, they had never been this personal and so full of… malice.

Finally, he looked up at me. "Get dressed. I need you to help me get stuff from several stores."

I stared back at him without a word. He didn't ask me a question so I didn't feel obligated to say anything in return. The staredown didn't last, though. Dad just turned around and went downstairs. I waited a few more minutes so it didn't feel like I was in a hurry and only then slowly started getting ready.

I went downstairs and he was already waiting for me. Mum was on the phone. I had questions but if there was a secret reason why Dad was taking me and not Chris, I decided I will know soon enough anyway. I didn't want to give him satisfaction either. We got into the car in silence and a minute later we were going downtown.

I caught myself tapping my knees nervously and curled my fists to stop. I was shooting occasional side glances at Dad who seemed solely focused on the road. I decided to do the same but then I caught myself tapping the door frame. I hated myself for not being able to get a grip.

"Let's go," he just said when we parked in front of a car parts store. We unbuckled and went inside.

Dad went to the counter and took out a list written on a piece of paper he kept in his pocket. I stood there awkwardly like a statue while Dad talked to the clerk, checking items from the list one after another.

"Okay, take these oil canisters," he demanded.

I took both canisters, one in each hand. They were pretty heavy, at least to me, and we left the store to pack the stuff inside the car, then we got in and he drove out of the parking lot.

The next stop was a general electronics and tools shop. We spent an unholy amount of time there with Dad looking at hammers, screwdrivers, drills and whatnot and I was losing my senses. It was as if he knew I vowed not to speak to him and he wanted to make this as boring and miserable for me as possible. If this is what Chris had to endure on a daily basis, then I feel for him. After - I shit you not - almost an hour, he picked up a giant ladder.

"That’s the thing. Alright, help me carry it to check-out," he said. Without a word, I took one side of the ladder - which despite of its size wasn’t heavy at all and he could easily just carry it by himself - and we went to pay for it.

"Okay, now get in the back of the van," he said when we got back to the car. I stepped inside, he handed me one side of the ladder and we placed it diagonally on the floor.

Then, we got back to the front seats, buckled up and left again. I didn’t know where we were going but judging by the direction, it wasn’t home. I dreaded spending another hour in another store, feeling useless and bored to death. But this time we kept going and going until we reached the A road. My stomach tightened when Dad took a turn and went towards the airport. But then we passed the airport, too, and it looked like we were going without any real direction. After another fifteen minutes, I capitulated.

"Where are we going, Dad?" I asked in a small voice.

The moment I said it, I knew this was exactly what he was waiting for. Maybe his facial expression didn’t change but something happened about the aura in the car that made me sure… or maybe I was just imagining things because he didn’t speak for another few minutes, making me shrink more and more inside. I knew Dad could sometimes be… difficult… but he’d never been trying to be mean to me like that. I started regretting coming out to him at all. He’d be gone in a few weeks and I would just spend time with Owen and do whatever I wanted without having to withstand this shit…

"Help me understand…" he interrupted my thoughts, "how exactly did he manage to seduce you?"

I was speechless. Sure, one side of me expected him to say he’s sorry for yesterday's outburst - as long as he even remembered it. At the very least, I was hoping for a more conciliatory tone.

"You don’t want to tell me? Fine," he said before I could come up with the right thing to say.

"I… no! What kind of question is that? Why do you even assume he seduced me?"

"Do you want me to believe he didn’t? You were perfectly normal the last time I was home and now, totally by coincidence, you meet this guy and you turn gay overnight. How do you plan to explain that?"

I couldn’t believe it. "Dad… I’m just as gay as I was last year… and the year before that, and ever since I remember. Just because you didn’t know it doesn’t mean I wasn't."

He made a long pause after that. By now I was sure we were going aimlessly around the city. Did it help his confidence to be driving when talking about issues?

I decided to push a little further. “Didn’t you say this wasn’t unexpected? You must’ve suspected I was gay,” I said.

"I told you before, I saw hints, I wasn’t really surprised, but at least you kept it decent and didn't ever bring it up. So answer me - what did this guy do to you?"

"He didn’t do anything to me, Dad. Try to understand. I was the one to talk to him first, if you need to know. I saw him in a YouTube video, then I went to a few of his gigs… and then I just walked to him and introduced myself. I was attracted to him way before he was even aware of my existence."

He paused again. I already knew what he was doing. He didn’t know the first thing about being gay and couldn’t fight my arguments. He would crash against a wall, then back up and try again from another side. And I wasn’t mistaken.

"You’re fourteen," he said. “He’s sixteen."

"Wow, he’s almost two years older than me, that’s atrocious!” I laughed joylessly. “That’s like, half the age difference between you and Mum," I spat out. I knew I shouldn’t mock him like that, but I couldn’t help myself. He was making me lose my self-control with his dumb arguments that weren’t even arguments.

"We didn’t have sex when we were fourteen. Not to mention having someone…"

"What, bone you?" I blurted when he hesitated.

"So he does bone you?" he asked triumphantly.

"Yes, he does, so what? We do it safely and responsibly," I lied, thinking about our most recent sessions. "I’m mature enough and I’m not waiting till I’m eighteen whatever you say."

"Jesus… you’re letting a guy up your ass and you’re talking about it like it’s picking your nose. Do you have any idea how people will look at you?"

"Dad… first of all, he’s not a guy. His name is Owen. Please stop calling him a guy because he’s not just some guy. I love him and yes, we make love. And yes, this is how gay guys make love, I’m sorry if you find it gross. You’re the one who can’t stop talking or thinking about it. Do you think I keep imagining you and Mum… I don’t, because it’s gross! I know you do it - or at least used to do it - I accept it, but I don’t want to have anything to do with it. That’s fine. You’ll never hear about my sex life if you don’t ask, so why won’t you just leave me alone and we can all live happily ever after?"

Another pause. I was shaking with emotions but I was proud of myself. I had said the things I wanted to say for a while now. Dad had probably thought that he was ready for this conversation but I had over fourteen years of real-life experience being gay and the arguments he got from his homophobe friends or the Internet just weren’t enough to scare me.

"How about that black boy? Who is he?" He changed the topic again.

"Ryan?" I asked, thrown for a loop suddenly. "He’s Owen’s friend. I just met him yesterday."

"You just met him, huh? I’d be careful if I were you."

"Why?"

"Nothing. The way he looks at Owen, I think he’s gay, too."

For the first time, I looked Dad in the eyes but they were always watching the road and I couldn’t read them. What was that remark about? Was he trying to make me jealous? Ryan didn’t look gay at all! Just another neighbour kid… But then again…

"I don’t know and I don’t care," I said quickly to hide my insecurity. "You and Mum have many straight friends and I’m not telling you to be careful on every step." I sighed in relief.

"He and Owen seem close, that’s all I’m saying," he replied.

"Dad…" I said, weighing each word. "I’m happy. I’ve never been happier in my life. I have a boyfriend. I get to play in a band for crazy crowds. I meet new friends. Can’t you be happy for me? Or at least try to understand me before you go on questioning who I am?"

"Don’t you see I’m trying to protect you?" For the first time, he looked away from the road and straight at me. "You may live in your little bubble and think everyone’s loving and accepting, but this is not the way the world works. Back in my days, people would bully the crap out of you if they saw you holding hands with a guy like you did."

"His name is Owen! Do you suggest I should pretend to be someone I’m not because some people you knew thirty years ago would bully me for it?"

Dad sighed. "You don’t understand, do you? You’re risking ruining our reputation because of the itch in your butt. Sure, it sucks when your ass itches, but just scratch it and move on! You don’t need a boyfriend to do that for you."

I opened my mouth wide. "Dad… I can’t believe what you’re saying. As long as you think being gay is just about being itchy down there… How can you start trying to understand me? Do you even want to understand me? Or do you only care about our reputation? So far, you’ve been the only person disrespecting me. Is that what you want?"

"You’re young and stupid and that’s fine," he said, relaxing and focusing on the road again. I took a few deep breaths because tears were starting to come to my eyes. "I just wish you would listen to me now rather than learn that I was right the hard way… when you least expect it."

I didn’t know what to say so I said nothing. My hopes of reasoning with Dad were all gone. He was so fundamentally wrong… and refused to admit it! Damn it… I instinctively touched the whistle that was resting underneath my t-shirt. It was so tiny it was barely visible beneath the fabric but it felt comforting to touch it in my hand. I didn’t care if it was from Ryan. In my mind, it was a gift from Owen.

Luckily, Dad didn’t say anything else either and started driving us back home.

***

Later, I told Mum about the conversation and that I didn’t feel like we were making any progress. I think there were other things on her mind because she didn’t say much about it. She assured me yet again that she loves me the way I am and that I should tell her when Dad was having another one of his outbursts. I really wanted him to accept me, but at that point having him ignore me wasn’t a bad option either. He wasn’t present in my life anyway, so why bother? Mum seemed like she chose to just wait it out. Maybe this was the best we could do in this situation.

I realised I’m feeling sore after doing all the lifting. It hit me when I realised there wasn’t really much lifting at all! Was I getting out of shape? It’s been weeks since I’d last gone swimming. Maybe Dad would stop mocking me if I looked a bit manlier.

I found Chris in the garage, meddling with the van.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey Alex," he replied, not looking up from the car hood.

"What are you doing?" I approached him shyly.

"There’s a weird rattling sound when the engine is running and I’m trying to find out what’s causing it."

"Ah, okay," I said. I wasn’t really interested in cars so I didn’t know what to ask next. "Say, you said something about going to a gym together, right?"

He put away a greasy rag he was holding and straightened up. "Right! You still down?"

"Yes, I think so. But I’ve never been to a gym and I don’t know how to use the equipment."

"That’s what older brothers are for. I will show you the ropes, no stress. You want your boyfriend to go with you?"

"Uhmm… with his arm?" I raised my eyebrow.

"Ah, right. Then he could just come to watch you and cheer for you."

"Naah, thank you. At least not yet. I will probably look like an idiot the first couple of times."

"I get you. No worries. You’re fourteen. We won’t be making a hulk out of you; we’ll take it easy. We can go tomorrow morning if you want."

"Yes, okay," I smiled weakly. "Sorry for interrupting you. Talk to you later, then."

I retreated from the garage hiding my smile while Chris went back to work.

hr /> Thanks for reading and for your comments and reactions so far!
Copyright © 2021 Arch Hunter; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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  • Site Moderator
On 9/10/2021 at 5:22 PM, drsawzall said:

Well now, Dad's a dork...a dullard...a neanderthal...or simply put...a lost cause without a farging clue!!!!! 

 

On 9/10/2021 at 6:24 PM, weinerdog said:

It's one thing to be ignorant of the lifestyle and all it's nuances but when his dad talked about ruining his reputation he totally lost me and more importantly Alex.

My thoughts too.

Why is a guy who's hardly ever around so concerned about reputation? How often can he possibly see people he knows?

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