Second Chance
It was a little after 12 o'clock in the afternoon when a pair of feet stopped dead at the beginning of a fine stone path leading to a pretty suburban house. Staring down, the path was made of many small black rock with smooth stepping stones embedded into the ground. Slowly they were stepped across, almost in fear of scoffing their clean surface. The porch was made of a dark oak and had a love-seat for two sitting to one side for lazy afternoons out under the sunlight.
A teenage boy with a gentle hand knocked on the painted-white door of the tall house that looked far beyond what he had imagined. It had a clean yard free of clutter and a neat little rose garden surrounding it like a beautiful set of thorny red armour. Cyrus was taken aback, having had expected to be at some old unkempt house that looked like it had just came out the other end of an all night teenage party. But the only off thing he could see about the place was one of the upstairs windows was blocked by something dark, trapping the light out. In an instant he knew who it belonged to, but there was no time to focus on it because someone threw the door open.
A tall man greeted him at the door, with a thick chest and chiselled features. His blond hair was faded slightly, but still had a certain handsome luster.
"Ah, you must be Cyrus, yes?" His voice was deep yet surprisingly soft.
"Uh, y-yes sir… I'm Cyrus Goodman," Cyrus awkwardly offered his hand despite his body urging him to run. "Ni-nice to m-me-meet you, sir."
The man raised an eyebrow. How badly the boy was shaking was obvious, though he understood why. He took the hand and shook it warmly. "You should calm down and come inside. I can show you to the room but i'm running a little late for work…"
Stepping inside and letting himself be guided to the stairs, the teen looked around the cosy large house and allowed himself a smile. Family photos framed the shelves, pictures of a joyous young boy running around being a sweet little kid and it warmed Cyrus' heart to see them. He remembered what he was like as a kid, always in the shadows of Buffy and Andi too shy to do anything or take photos. But slowly the family photos started to get less smiley and the kid grew up, drifting out of the photos. Then, as they passed through the living room Cyrus looked up at the fireplace mantle.
A single photo of a woman with long brown hair sat in the centre, her smile beautiful and full of life that, after looking through more recent photos, now no longer existed. She was gone, it seemed. Pictures of her were gone, and ones of the boy were almost there too.
Now all that was left were few single shots of the man leading Cyrus into the hall in a handsome blue police uniform. Now that made more sense.
"Will you be okay to find your way up? He's the third room on the right. It's probably going to be locked so, just knock until he turns off the goddamn music," The officer said with a grunt, busying himself with pinning on his badge. "Nice to meet you, Cyrus."
Cyrus nodded and started on the stairs while the man left. There was, he noticed, a small hole kicked into the wall on the way up and a few small burn marks on the banister that came off as a small black smudge. Wiping it on his pant leg, Cyrus hurried up to the second floor and looked to the left. After a moment he remembered it was to the right, so turned back around and hurried to the third door.
Even from the hallway he could hear loud music blaring out from the room, with some man singing about ripping a girl's clothes off and pounding her. Cyrus felt uncomfortable.
"O-ok... that's more what I thought," He muttered to himself quietly.
Stickers from all sorts of different brands of clothes, gaming systems and alike were plastered on every inch of the bedroom door without leaving an inch of wood left to see. Some had tears, had been torn off before and re stuck on, and almost none of them could be fully seen with all the others piled on top. One of them had the words 'FUCK OFF' in bold red writing. With a marker, someone had scribbled 'DAD' next to it. Looking away from that, the handle was loose and looked on the verge of breaking off. There was a good few dents on the wood where a fist hand hit it hard, but only one actual hole. Some of the stickers had a few small drops of blood that made Cyrus shudder. Who hit a door enough to make themselves bleed?
Cyrus stole a deep breath of air and knocked three times. And to his relief, the music stopped instantly.
"That you, dude?!" The door seemed a little jammed, and was roughly pulled open. Swept aside with it were cans of energy drinks and a pile of clothes. "Wassup,"
"H-hi Reed…" Cyrus squeaked. "This house is, um, litty…"
-~-~- /|\ -~-~-
Alone in there waiting for the other boy to come back with snacks, with his upper lip trapped between his teeth Cyrus looked around the room carefully, bouncing one knee nervously. He was just glad to have somewhere to put his feet in the messy pigsty that reeked of teenage musk. It was coming from piles of dirty clothes and old food strew around the place lazily. For lack of a better word: Reed's room was a trashy dump. The teen's only clean spaces were his messily made bed and a desk with a wide screen monitor for a PC hidden somewhere beside it. There was a TV mounted to the wall, but that had a crack running through the screen.
'His dad must have a lot of bread if he breaks so many things…' The boy thought to himself.
Then, when he swept a shirt aside with his foot he heard shards of glass under the bed clinking together and decided to keep still.
Something that he was completely unaware of was the somewhat hazy smell of weed coming from the hastily put out joint sitting in a black ashtray stashed underneath a box. The scent was faintly drifting out through the open window, though most was trapped by the box while the joint burnt out. It was fresh, but only so little was used that nobody would be able to get a good enough smell to know the difference
Cyrus could hear things moving down stairs in Reed's rush to get something for them to eat. Something hard fell over with a loud crash and something metallic soon followed, making the boy look to the door with an eyebrow raised.
"HEY BRO!" Reed called from the kitchen. He tossed a bag of chocolates and a few cans of soda into his open hoodie, which he was using to carry all the snacks back up. "DO YOU LIKE NACHOS OR CHIPS MORE!?"
"I… Um… JUST CHIPS PLEASE!" Cyrus shouted back, wincing at having to yell.
When the older blond boy came back with his hoodie stuffed to the brim with food he set it on the bed behind them and took a seat. Hungrily ripping open the bag of chips, he took a handful and shoved it in his mouth while Cyrus just took one and slowly ate it. The TV was switched on to some music channel with girls dressed in skimpy clothes almost stripping naked on screen while men singing felt them all up. The Jewish boy was chewing his lip and looking at anything else, making Reed furrow his brow and giggle a little at how dorky he was already being.
"What's wrong bro? Don't like the song or somethin'?"
Cyrus looked up, "Oh no, no it's not that. I'm just not use to saying anything above a talking volume,"
"You're funny, dude…" Grinning, Reed stuffed more food in his face.
"Again, just observational humour." Cyrus couldn't stop himself from grinning then cracked open a soda. Despite at home there was a solid rule against soda, the Jewish boy drank it down with a smile. "My parents don't allow this at home. Don't need me becoming a fatty…"
"You're kidding…"
Lifting up his shirt out of nowhere, Reed showed off his tanned body with a broad grin. Pointing at his abs with one hand and keeping the shirt up with the other, Reed smirked at his own sexiness. While Cyrus's eyes widened in aroused shock, he couldn't look away as the teen fully stripped off his tight black shirt and tossed it onto a pile. Reed felt up his well defined chest, flexing his tan abs for the blushing gay boy that was forced to stare at them. His chest was thick and he had broad shoulders, with brownish nipples that Cyrus for some reason wanted to suck or touch.
"All I drink is soda and I still look this good!" His voice was huskily, and said with a cocky attitude.
"Fl-flexing much?" Cyrus said hardly above a whisper, into the soda can before taking a sip. "No-not that that is b-bad or… or anything,"
Reed helped himself to more snacks with a cocky grin while leaning back on his bed and flexing the lean chest that Cyrus couldn't drag his eyes away from. The younger boy felt his lips getting dry yet the soda wasn't helping. Reed's defined chest, the fuzzy six-pack showing off; it was all a little too much for him to handle. Cyrus's khakis grew tighter and the boy was tenting in no time, having to cross an arm against it so that it wasn't totally noticeable.
Without bothering to put a shirt back on, because he knew it would be torture to the gay boy that failed to meet his gaze, Reed stretched out and yawned tiredly. His body flexed, just like Cyrus had said. After that the two teenage boys were sitting there in silence, until Reed leaned back and grabbed his TV remote off of the windowsill then switched his TV to a different channel. One he knew that would have music videos featuring some sexy older men with ripped bodies, lathered in oil. To his luck, there were plenty of men on screen now all wearing little to nothing and feeling up some hot girls in bikinis on some beach. If Reed ever remembered after long nights of getting high with Lester, the plan was to get into filming. In his mind the video looked more like porn so was perfect after how much he had seen before, but it was working to make Cyrus blush nevertheless.
Looking away from the screen with his heart pounding, Cyrus started trying to think of anything else to do. He noticed a PS4 sitting on a shelf and quickly pointed it out; His voice was cracked and dry which got him a weird look.
"S-so you're a gamer?"
Reed said nothing but straightened up slowly, blinking around until he spotted his console. That was the last thing expected to be mentioned.
"Uh yeah I used to game all the time before dad got me the dirt-bike," Reed muttered while looking under piles of trash for his controllers. They were under an old pizza box, along with a bag of weed that had been forgotten. "Shit!"
When the bag was safely hidden from Cyrus, the teenager came back up with two controllers. One was a little damaged, so Cyrus got the good one thrust into his hand.
"Um, where should I put this?" Wiggling his can of soda, Cyrus looked for some place to put it.
Reed shrugged and motioned to the wall, "Just yeet it."
"Um, y-yeet is…?"
Looking back and forth from the wall to Reed, Cyrus noticed something about them both. First of all the wall was by far the most damaged thing in the house; every inch of what had been pristine whiteness had long been covered in holes, scratches and marks that had apparently gotten all that abuse from Reed throwing cans of soda at it. Especially since there was a pile of crushed cans gathered along the wall and more than a few still wedged in the wall. While some of the wall had spray painted messes that were supposed to be art, the rest of the white was stained by browns, blacks, purples and greens from the soda cans over the years of living there.
As he was egged on by Reed, Cyrus sheepishly threw the can at the wall but it fell short onto the pile of cans. Cyrus winced, expecting to get told off for being dorky. But looking back at the other boy, Reed was smiling at pat him on the back.
"Not bad bro, you gotta work on those arms though…" Reed said slyly. In a swift movement, he squeezed Cyrus's thin arm.
Yelping in surprise the Jewish boy reeled back, almost falling off the bed in his over the top reaction. But he was caught by the wrist and pulled back onto the bed.
"You really do jump a lot, don't you bro? I'm not going to hurt you or anything so just let me feel your muscles…"
Cyrus blushed a deep shade of red, his eyes dodging Reed's deep blue orbs staring back at him. "I-I am shy… it's wh-why I have so many haters…"
Reed could feel how badly Cyrus was shaking and it almost made him into the Jewish boy's ear as the muscular teenager shifted his body closer and kept rubbing up and down the thin arm. It lacked any muscle but wasn't a thin twig like he had been expecting. Squeezing the thin arm a few times like a stress ball, Reed carefully started to slowly move across Cyrus's slim body with both hands moving to his chest. He pushed gently back and rubbed both soft pecs for a moment that had them both moaning out softly for the other. Reed took them both by surprise and flicked the Jewish boy's ear with his tongue. There was simply no way of holding back the lust he felt for TJ's plaything any longer; Cyrus had been brought up so many times and after seeing how cute and sheepish the slightly younger boy in real life was Reed had not been able to get Cyrus out of his head.
After the first time was ruined, this was the last chance he would get and knew to make it count. Now with said boy pinned against the headboard of his messy bed, Reed closed the distance between their starkly different bodies and couldn't stop himself from grinding into Cyrus. Without a word shared between them, one boy started to lean closer to the other. Neither would ever be able to say who actually made the move but their lips touched for a short, soft kiss that lasted less than a second. They parted with starry eyes, their lips dusted with each others taste. And slowly Reed lowered for another more heated kiss.
For a moment that felt like it stretched on forever the two teenage boys sat in silence with their bodies pressed against one and other. Both of them hard as rocks, one shy and other other high.
"Th-that was a… really good kiss, no cap," Cyrus whispered so quietly that Reed almost asked what he said.
One of Reed's hands moved to support the younger boy's head, weaving into the dark curls. "The next one will be better, bro…"
Their lips met quickly without either holding back anymore. Kissing passionately again Reed moved his thumbs in small circles to tease Cyrus's nipples through his shirt and moaned down his throat, hearing the boy moan back. In between kisses Reed glanced down and started to undo the buttons that were hiding that cute chest. Then those nervous hands that had been rooted to the mattress started to reach out until Cyrus's long fingers were woven into Reed's mess of dirty blonde hair, getting a good grip as they both started to make out.
It didn't take long for the dark blue button-up to fall open and limp on the sides of the dark-haired boy's smooth chest. The fourteen-year-old's breath hitched, catching in his throat as he felt a pair of strong hands caressing his whole torso. At first the sensation was ticklish but as Reed moved further upwards Cyrus couldn't hold back the soft moan.
But the thing that made his cock twitch through his khakis was when the dirty-blonde teen's fingers worked around his cute pale nipples then gave the nubs a light pinch. Twisting them around between his thumb and forefinger, Reed found himself loving how smooth and soft Cyrus's chest was. His lips wrapped around the boy's neck to mark him while playing with them more.
"O-oh god, Reed… Th-that feels so good!" Cyrus said in a whisper.
"And you taste amazing too, bro. Funny and sexy as fuck; you really are the whole package aren't you dude? Like, i've never touched another guy but you just make me want to… I don't even know, bro!" Reed replied with a shrug.
The blond had no idea what he wanted with Cyrus, and was just letting the moment do its own thing. Returning to rubbing the cute tiny nubs had the room filled with moans instead of weed for once. Though, that being said, him, Lester and TJ are no strangers to jerking off while high.
"Have you done it yet? Bet all the boys want you…"
Cyrus shook his head quickly, chewing his lip and trying to hide his blush. "N-no way… even Jonah didn't want me, and i'm his biggest stan."
"Stan?"
"Uh, means stalker fan… B-but only because of An-DIII!" Cyrus squeaked, the last of his words becoming high pitch when Reed groped his cock. "R-REED!"