Carter's Shadow - 9. Chapter 9

His mom had agreed after making him promise to drive his brother and sister home. Matt had taken shotgun, much to Joey's annoyance; it seemed no matter how quick off the mark Joey tried to be, there was always someone faster.

West's mother had come out to meet the Bronco as it bounced down the driveway, waving Sammy past her into the house as she leaned on the window to glance at the two boys.

"Hello, Matthew," she said pleasantly, as Joey slammed the rear passenger door and ran after his sister. "Now, your mother is sure she doesn't mind having West over tonight?"

"She's fine with it, Mrs. Harding," Matt replied, flashing his sapphire eyes at her innocently.

She gave him a look that said she wasn't buying his innocent routine for an instant. Matt and West had been friends since they were little, getting into as much mischief as two boys could, and the pair of them had been responsible for more than a few grey hairs on their parents' heads.

"Well, you two be good, and West, remember curfew, it's a school night." His mother gave him that stern look that said she wasn't about to budge on the issue as she took West's jacket from him--she had promised to sew the new patch on that night for him.

West smiled. "Yes Mom," he replied, turning to back the Bronco up the short driveway and back out onto the street. He gunned the engine and drove the last few blocks to Matt's house.

Matt's father was a gunsmith, one of the best in the province; he ran a shop out of his basement where he fitted sights and shipped custom modifications to hunting and sporting weapons. He also ran the local range, which meant the house was always crawling with gun enthusiasts--the Canadian equivalent to NRA--equally as fervent in their support of rights and freedoms, and equally as bigoted about other peoples.

Matt seemed such a liberal guy to come from such a staunch conservative family. It seemed to be his own way of rebelling against the former Reform-turned-New-Conservative parents that often lectured him on the moral degradation of society. The more they lectured, the more Matt seemed to go the other way on the matter, so far as to have secretly joined the Liberal Party behind their backs.

West noticed there were no cars at the house as they drove up, and gave Matt a questioning look.

"Gun show in New York State," Matt explained with a grin.

"So all that about your mom and celebrating?" West asked suspiciously.

"A line to get you to come over," Matt replied cheerfully. "I'm going to cook for you."

"What's the number for poison control?" West mused aloud.

Matt grinned as the Bronco came to a halt, jumping down and dashing to unlock the door, resting against the door jamb as he watched West walk across the small parking lot to join him. "You feel like chicken tonight?" he asked, mocking the old commercial from when they were kids.

"Goof," West clapped his bud on the shoulder as they both entered the nice split-level house.

It was always so neat compared to the clutter of his own house and the near constant mess of laundry piles by the washer dryer, or the crayons on the coffee table. Matt's house was done in pastels, with expensive furniture straight out of a catalogue, and an expensive one, not the Ikea catalogues his parents shopped from.

Matt was their only son, and his family concentrated a lot of their time on how the house should look. They were constantly building onto the house, as if they were set to turn the split-level into a mansion, one extension at a time.

West kicked his shoes off and climbed the steps up into the kitchen, where Matt was already hanging up his own team jacket. Turning back to grin at West, he took a short dash and slid across the perfectly waxed and polished floor in his socks, losing his balance as he did so and would have pitched headfirst down the stairs had West not caught him.

"Thanks;" Matt replied, looking up at West and grinning, "that could have sucked major ass."

"It would have been your own fault," West replied, putting Matt back onto his own feet.

Matt just grinned at him seconds before he ducked back into the main kitchen. "So," he said flipping open the freezer, "we have chicken, pizza, more chicken and...oh look, chicken." He leaned back around the freezer door and grinned, "Your call."

"I remember your cooking from Home Economics," West replied taking a seat at the oak and tiled island in the middle of the huge kitchen. "I'll stick to the pizza."

"K," Matt replied pulling out the rising crust pizza and flipping it over to read the back. "So, you excited yet?"

"About?" West asked looking up.

"Captain of the team," Matt replied. "You're top dog now, the big Kahuna."

West shrugged, "It's late in the season, there are a handful of games left before we're done, and then we graduate-it's not really a big deal."

"Sure it is," Matt said banging open the over door and stuffing the pizza inside, slamming it shut and fiddling with the digital dials on top. "You should have been captain at the start of the year."

"Brad was more aggressive," West replied, "and his goal average..."

"Was no where close to yours," Matt said pointedly. "Brad took the C because you let him have it, it's only right that you get it back."

"Thanks, I guess," West replied shrugging again. "Let's change the subject?"

"Sure," Matt said, breaking out into a big grin, "you can tell me why you've been all distracted lately."

"Huh?" West blinked.

"You," Matt said nudging him across the kitchen counter. "You've been quiet lately, and what was with this morning and the pissed-off-jock routine? I've never known you to get that upset."

"It's nothing," West replied glancing away.

Matt sighed, "One of these days you're actually going to trust me enough to just tell me your secret and get it over with."

West looked up in shock. And Matt read the look and smiled triumphantly.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Matt pressed.

"You...you're talking crap," West insisted uncertainly.

"No?" Matt said grabbing two glasses down from the cupboard and digging in the fridge for a couple of cans of coke. "Prettiest girl in school tries her best to get you to ask her out and you don't seem to notice; either you're the dumbest guy alive or..."

"Or?" West said looking up and meeting Matt's eyes, calling his bluff.

"Or you're gay," Matt said sliding a coke over to his buddy. "It's the only thing that makes sense to me, cause you're not stupid at all; in fact, I wouldn't pass half my classes if it weren't for you helping me. Hell, I wouldn't be on the team if it wasn't for you..."

West remained impassive, keeping his best poker face on, "So you think I'm gay?"

"Yeah," Matt said with a thoughtful nod, "yeah, that's not the question, the question is who're you in love with."

"Whoa," West balked, "I never said I was in love."

"You never denied being gay, either," Matt pointed out, grinning. "I figured it out, didn't I?" He sounded proud of himself, "I figured out your deep dark secret. You're gay!"

"Shouldn't you be alerting the media?" West sipped his coke.

"What, and tell them?" Matt asked puzzled.

"Nope, that you finally figured something out," West shot back, mildly annoyed at the delight Matt was taking at the expense of his friend.

Matt stopped and turned, leaning on the counter next to West. "You know I'm not going to say anything to anyone," he insisted. "I think I've known for awhile, I just wasn't sure till today. So what's mystery boy's name?"

"Not telling you that," West replied. "Besides it's not like anything's ever going to happen..."

"Yeah?" Matt said. "It's not me is it? I know I switched to Axe deodorant and it makes me irresistible..."

West looked over at his best friend, "No, it's not you..."

"Why not?" Matt demanded folding his arms. "I'm cute."

West blinked, "Huh?"

Matt grinned, "Well, you know, if it's going to be someone might as well be the hottest guy in school."

"Uhhh," West said uncertainly, "you're not the hottest guy in school, dude, you're the shortest."

"Big things come in small packages," Matt replied, reaching down to tweak the front of his jeans.

"Stop that," West said pointedly.

Matt grinned. "What's the matter, Wesley," he used West's full name as he put on a sultry voice, "too much man for you?" He ran his finger up West's arm.

"Ok, that just crossed the line into weird," West pointed out. "Stop that or I'll have to kick your ass."

Matt giggled a bit as he just wrapped his arms around West's shoulders and squeezed, "You're my bro, dude, and I love you." He kissed a sloppy kiss onto West's cheek, as West pushed him off.

"Gross," West said playfully as he wiped the slobber off of his cheek and flung it in Matt's direction.

Matt danced away from it still laughing, "So what's it like?"

"What's what like?" West asked, grabbing a napkin to continue to dry his face.

"You know, bum-blasting, penetrative-type sex," Matt said. The way he said it, deadpan expression on his face, and eager questioning eyes made West's head snap up.

"I-I don't know," he replied, "Why do you want to know?"

"Well, I've thought about it," Matt replied. "Any guy that says they haven't fantasized at least once about other guys is a liar."

West blinked at the revelation his best friend was revealing, "You're gay?"

"No," Matt shook his head, "just a horn dog. Sex is sex right? So long as it feels good who cares how you get it." He leaned on the counter and grinned, "Wanna have sex?"

West's eyebrows shot up. "No," he said firmly, if a little uncertainly.

Matt came around the counter again, wiggling his hips from side to side, looking like a little kid that wanted to pee badly, "Come on, if you don't know what it's like, and I don't... and we're both into guys, well you more than me, but..."

"No," West insisted firmly. "No, that's okay..."

"Why not?" Matt looked a little hurt. "We're best friends, why can't we have sex?"

"Because you just want sex," West replied with a smile, reaching out to tussle his best friend's hair as Matt stepped in closer, till his legs were touching West's knees.

"Yeah," Matt replied honestly, "I just want to know what it's like."

"You see, that's the thing," West replied. "I don't want to have just sex..."

"Yeah?" Matt asked staying where he was, lightly touching West, obviously enjoying the newfound intimacy between the two of them, intimacy that had been born of finally being honest with each other. "What's his name?"

"I..." West shook his head.

"I can guess," Matt said, looking thoughtful, his hands now resting on West's knees--not sexually, but more out of his comfort. "It's not anyone on the team, 'cause I'd know..." He bit his lip, "You were out skating with Coach Highmore, but he has a boyfriend..."

"What?" West blinked. "How do you..."

Matt looked at West and grinned, "Well, my cousin used to go to school with Will, his boyfriend. Charlene was so jealous that he was gay and she couldn't date him..." He grinned, "But they've been together so long they're all but married now." He shook his head, "So it's gotta be someone else. Blake from English class?"

"Blake?" West asked.

"Yeah, the guy that wears the baggy jeans, combats and the black trench coat with brown spiky hair...."

"I know who Blake is," West replied. "What makes you think it's him?"

"Cause he likes you, he's always watching you; and come on, the stories he writes, haven't you noticed they're like all about a guy that matches your description?" Matt grinned, "Well, you always were oblivious. So it's not Blake..." he chewed his lip, "and its not me, even though it should, I'm like the love god..." he waggled his eyebrow and banged West's knees with his hips.

"I'm not having sex with you," West reiterated.

"Lame," Matt murmured, "what kind of friend turns down sex with his best friend?"

"You're a complete perv." West folded his arms.

"So it's gotta be someone else, someone no one knows, or else I would have picked up on something." Matt adopted a very Colombo like pose, "Someone not in the public eye, someone you can sneak off and see, but pisses you off like..." he grinned, "Peter."

West remained impassive, "Why him?"

"'Cause he's quiet, artistic and is always hiding in the corner; that and he and you disappeared on Friday night together, and he came back pissed, then today it was you who was all pissed." He grinned, "Oh, falling for the gardener, how Jane Austen."

"Don't you mean Jackie Collins?" West corrected.

"Hey, I'm not the fag here, I just want to get laid." He grinned again and batted West's knees with his hips again.

"Stop that," West admonished. "I'm not sleeping with you, and I don't like Peter that way. He's a nice guy but...he..." he shrugged, "he hates me."

Matt laughed, "I hate you right now for not letting me fuck you..."

"Hey," West said looking up, "says who I'm the bottom? You're the one who's begging for it."

Matt blinked, obviously not considering that side of it. "Doesn't it hurt?" he asked lamely.

"I don't know," West replied shaking his head. "I'm not exactly experienced in the mysteries of sex and sexuality; if you want to know, go ask Blake."

"Nah," Matt replied, "he's too stuck up to like me, though you should ask him out."

"Who, Peter?" West asked.

"No, Blake, doofus," Matt insisted. "He likes you, I swear to god."

"I was talking about Peter," West replied. "He's a nice guy and all, when he's not mad at me, but I don't know if I want to date him."

"Do you like him?" Matt asked.

"I... no...well he's a nice guy when he wants to be. Just he doesn't like me." West shrugged.

"What about Blake?" Matt pressed.

"What is it with you and Blake?" West asked turning. "I didn't even know he liked me till you said something."

"Right," Matt said, "but now that you do, what do you think about him?"

West sat back; he hadn't really considered Blake in that way. Sure Blake was handsome in that kind of rakish writer kind of way. The angsty-poet/goth-without-trying-to-be kind of guy. He was always super polite, and the girls loved him, even if he was built like a rake.

"I don't know," he replied truthfully. "He's cute, and smart..."

"And he actually likes you," Matt said with a grin.

"You think?" West replied sarcastically. "You know, the rate you're going you should become a pimp..." he looked down at Matt grinding against his leg. "And for the love of god, stop," he laughed. "You're not gay, you're just a horn dog, and I know you're my best friend, but if you make a mess on my jeans..."

"Right, so you gonna ask Blake on a date?" Matt grinned.

"Why the sudden insistence that I go out with Blake?" West asked smiling at his friend, who hadn't stopped humping his knees.

"I...it..." Matt made a funny face, pressing his hips forward a bit more forcefully, nearly knocking West off of his stool. "...Oh..."

West grabbed onto the counter to stop from ending up on the floor, looking at his friend as if he was crazy, "What the hell?"

Matt turned bright red, and stuttered, "I...oh...uhh..."

West blinked straightening up and looking over at Matt, the damp stain on the front of his trousers. "Oh dude," he said screwing up his nose, "that's just sick, man."

"I'm sorry..." Matt blushed again in embarrassment, "I got carried away..."

"I noticed," West fired back, shaking his head. "Go get changed, "I'll deal with the pizza."

As Matt darted away, West began to laugh, shaking his head, what an upside down day-- team captain, Peter and now Matt, and finding out about Blake, it was all screwed up. So he decided to just roll with it; setting the pizza on top of the stove he grabbed the cutter and sliced it up neatly as Matt sheepishly re-entered the kitchen.

"Pizza's ready," West turned, "but no spicy sausage for you; I think you've had enough already." He grinned.

Matt flushed red again, "I'm sorry..."

"Forget about it," West said setting down a plate in front of his friend. "You're just as bad as my uncle's dog, damn thing was always humping legs; in the end we had to neuter him." West gestured with the pizza cutter.

"Ouch," Matt winced, "that would so totally suck."