The Unbearable Hardness of Being
"It is good that this story is good." - Timmy2016
The aural disturbance of a rusty door hinge was no match for the deafening silence that accompanied the shared stare between Arthur Read and his sister DW immediately after she entered the foyer of their family home and found him atop a long, narrow ottoman in the living room, knees to his chest, methodically pumping a semi-flaccid penis while straining to read the reviews of his latest x-rated Sonic and Mario at the Olympic Games fanfic on an iPad lying on the floor beneath him.
This unforeseen test of his deeply-practiced Slow Stroke technique was admirably handled by Arthur for several seconds, maintaining his metronomic pace with the discipline of a third-week yoga student until he fell backward onto a couch and began searching for an excuse to even be doing something like this in the first place.
"Faggotry is a social disease!" DW shouted, dropping her backpack full of pain pills and cock doodles and scrambling to find any device connected to the internet so she could inform the tight-knit community of Elwood City of her brother's relapse into ungodly sexual deviances.
~6 MONTHS EARLIER~
"Y'ever wanna just grab Buster's and ears and use his dumb rabbit teeth as a nut massager?" Brain inquired to the rest of the lunch table, upending the stale conversation about whether or not outer space was real and living up to his unusually divinatory name with his innovative suggestion for a new way to victimize the most exploitable member of the class.
"Me and Buster used to rub hands on mad dick area parts back in the day yo", Binky impulsively divulged, stealing a glance at Arthur to gauge his jealousy and get a mental snapshot of any arousal that might reveal itself and jerk off to it after school.
Francine squirmed in her chair, hoping the integrity of her Oshkosh overalls would hold up against the furious throbbing of her secret penis. Binky had changed a lot. At some point in the previous year he had seemingly rhino-charged his way through an army surplus shop in a desperate attempt to not look like a guy who wanted some dick in his butt 25/7. Despite the ridicule he endured for his fashion felonies, she somehow found herself unbearably craving the swampy patina of his vinegary ball sweat.
Meanwhile, Arthur was paralyzed with uncertainty. The crippling anxiety of losing his best friend's sexual validation to someone in his social circle had poisoned their relationship over the summer. He knew his growing addiction to the masterful hotfics of Timmy 2016 were a symptom of a deeper psychosis, and in the faces of his compatriots he could see only the likenesses of a certain fictional hedgehog and a fat italian plumber who sold him shrooms at the Brokencyde show last April.
Under his sock, Arthur hid a shameful stack of napkins on which he'd jotted down his ideas for scenarios where the plumber and the hedgehog might plausibly have a steamy rendezvous while Arthur watched from afar, jelqing his meat under the cover of the bleachers at the Elwood City Community Center's track and field complex.
