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.
Timothy’s Terrible Prompt Stories - 55. Prompt 544 It’s time to bury the hatchet.
“It’s time to bury the hatchet.” Rob’s voice was low but firm.
Jasper gave me a small jab with his elbow, and we shared a quick grin. The blond Perry brothers had marched straight up to Ryan, who tried to look unconcerned as he sipped his morning coffee. The café had its usual crowd of early Monday morning coffee-buyers, but since there had been no baseball game over the weekend, none of the players were present. However, Rob knew Ryan would be there, because his dad dropped him off early every morning on his way to work.
Eric had been convinced by Rob that they needed to take the initiative. Now that Chris was gone from the team, Rob wanted everyone else to move on and forget the fight. But Ryan would have to get used to Eric and me being around. Eric said he was reluctant but could see Rob’s point. It was a good test of his ability to deal with issues which he might face as GSA president. I was happy to lend my support, and Jasper didn’t even complain about having to get up half an hour early. I think he likes to be Sir Rob’s squire.
“I’m not the one on a war path, home-run boy. But since Coach thinks you can do nothing wrong…” Ryan shrugged without finishing his sentence and took another sip of his coffee.
“The baseball team needs you, Ryan,” my boyfriend told him. “I’ve looked at the statistics for the past year, and you’ve executed more double plays than anyone else. You may not hit many home runs, but your sacrifice bunt is wicked.”
Ryan shrugged again but we could all see he was flattered by Eric’s praise. “It goes with my place in the lineup.”
Jasper shook his head. “No, you’ve earned that place by your abilities to bunt and base run. Not everyone can reach first base on an infield hit, and you steal bases regularly, too.”
“Maybe, but what’s the point of you telling me this?”
Rob pulled out a chair and sat next to Ryan. “The point is no one gives a shit about Chris dropping out, but you’re important to our game.”
Jazz casually slid into the seat across from Ryan. “You’re too clever to believe the dumb shit Melanie and her cousin say, so why do you really give a fuck about Nelson and Eric?”
I turned away to walk up to the counter, hoping the teammates would find a way to bury that hatchet for good. Ryan didn’t have to change his mind about Eric and me as a couple; he just had to keep his mouth shut for everyone to get along.
When I got back with our drinks, Jazz and Ryan were discussing the upcoming baseball game against a team they expected to be an easy win. Jasper was hoping to get an inning or two as relief pitcher, since his wrist wouldn’t be up to the strain of being the starter. Rob was leaning back with a satisfied smile on his face and my attentive boyfriend jumped up to help me.
“Here you go, Jazz,” I said and placed his double latté in front of him. My best friend waved his thanks distractedly, but that was OK. I knew the matter had been settled from the way he and Ryan were trading fake insults about each other’s skill.
Eric slid Rob’s cup across the table. “See you later, bro.”
He simply nodded, but when Eric reached out and grabbed my hand, Rob’s grin got wider. I had our hot chocolates in a carrier in my other hand and we turned and made our way out of the café.
“It looked like the problem has been resolved,” I remarked, and Eric nodded.
“Yeah, now we understand where Ryan is coming from. Even better, it means Rob won’t pressure us to join him at café team-meetings.”
I waited for him to continue but he simply kept walking. When I glanced sideways there was a tiny smirk on his lips. I jostled him with my shoulder.
“Come on, out with it!”
“What?” Innocent blue eyes twinkled at me, and I growled.
“You’re as bad a tease as Jazz.”
“But at least I’m not as bad as Rob.”
I simply raised my eyebrows at him and let go of his hand. Taking one of the cups from the carrier I gave it to him and held my own with one hand while stuffing the empty carrier into a bin.
“Ryan told us a story, but we promised we wouldn’t tell anyone else. It’s more sad than bad, but I can see why he doesn’t want it to spread around.”
“OK, I promise as well.” I took a sip of my hot chocolate, guessing Ryan would have assumed Eric might tell me.
“When he was about seven, he saw his sixteen-year-old cousin kiss another teen boy. He accidentally outed both of them the next day, and apparently the fall-out was bad. It’s such a painful memory he can’t stand to see other boys kissing, because it reminds him of what everyone had to go through.”
“Oh no, that’s awful. What happened to his cousin?”
“I think it was the other boy’s parents who were the main problem, but Ryan’s cousin hasn’t forgiven him yet. Or at least that was the impression I got. He didn’t go into much detail.”
“But he was just a kid,” I exclaimed, suddenly feeling sorry for the brash guy who apparently hid a vulnerable interior behind bluster and scowls.
Eric shrugged. “It’s not something we can do anything about, apart from helping him get over his issues with PDA.”
“Maybe simply telling someone his story will help. I bet it’s a real sore subject in his family; the kind of touchy memory no one talks about. So he never gained any perspective.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean, although we don’t really have any taboo family secrets that I know of.”
I started laughing. “Not with Rob around, I imagine.”
“No, he hates secrets and he’s too honest to keep any himself. So, can I hold your hand again, now?”
He shifted his cup to his left hand and held his right hand out to me. I couldn’t resist the entreaty in his eyes and entwined my fingers with his.
We walked into the school and made our way to the costume room. We had finished assembling the boxes of props and costumes, but I made sure to take out a few bits and pieces which needed fixing up. Eric had his script out, so he could pretend to memorize his role. Actually, he was already mostly word perfect, since I had helped him during the weekend. I read out the other roles and helped him get the intonations and gestures right as specified in the manuscript. If the drama teacher showed up, we could quickly fall into the same pattern.
“This has been the best two weeks of my life.”
Once again my boyfriend amazed me with his ability to say or do the unexpected. He wasn’t being mushy, but calmly stated the fact as if he had calculated everything the way he did those baseball statistics.
“I’m not just talking about us being boyfriends, or the night we spent together.”
“I know what you mean. I’m feeling happy and confident too.” My mom had commented on my improved state of mind, saying she liked seeing me smile more. One of my teachers had even mentioned my recent essay had an unusually positive outlook.
“But I have to admit Friday night was special.”
Eric embraced me and something hard poked me on the hip as he nuzzled into my hair.
“Mmm, you smell nice. Makes me want to lick you, eat you, swallow you. Like the other night.”
“Eric!” Now I had major problems with my tight jeans as my dick fought to get out there and collect on the promise.
“When can we spend the night together again?” His blue eyes were filled with longing, and I gulped. He had been an enthusiastic lover, both giving and receiving, but the best part had been lying in each other’s arms afterwards, sated and happy and convinced we were perfect for each other. His warm body close to mine reminded me of every delightful moment.
The words fell out of my mouth. “You could come home with me tomorrow. Even if you can’t spend the night, we can still....”
“Yes, please.” Our kiss was chocolate-flavored and hot enough to make my knees shake. I’m so grateful no one discovered us. And for once I’m also grateful of short teen fuses. Jeez, that mouth….
- 23
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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