AN: Yay! New chapter! Long time coming I know, but hey! New chapter! And
it's my birthday. My dad actually got the date right this year. Yay! lol.
Now I want lots of reviews for my b-day alright? Thankies! ^_^
Pete walked over to his locker, and started peeling of his wet, sticky, sweat smelling clothes. Yuck. He loved to be sweaty, but only during post- coital sex. While using his shirt to wipe off the extra sweat of his forehead, he glanced over and saw Whitney sitting on the bench looking really sad and rejected. He winced, remembering why Whitney looked like that. He sort of knew how Whitney felt. Pete had believed himself to be in love with Clark, and had been. disappointed when he found out that they would never be exclusive. But he got over it. He got to have sex with Clark every once in a while, and that was good enough for him.
He had been eying the sexy quarterback for a while now, but never guessed that he had been gay until Clark had told him that he had been fucking him. But he still hadn't made a move. He wasn't sure why. Well, that didn't matter anymore; it looked like Whitney needed a pick me up, and Pete knew exactly how to be of service. He forcefully pushed down the wicked grin that tried to plaster itself on his face.
"Hey Whitney." He said, sitting down next to him.
"Hey Pete," Whitney sighed in reply.
"what's wrong man? You've been lookin' like someone shot your dog, and I know you don't have one, so spill."
Whitney looked over at him, and got this perplexed look on his face.
"You're fucking him too aren't you?" he said suddenly.
Pete looked genuinely surprised, not having expected that from him.
"What do you mean?" He replied innocently.
"Don't try and play cute Ross, I know you're fucking Kent too. I've seen the looks you guys give each other. I never noticed it before, or maybe I just didn't want to see. He used to look at me like that. But now I find out I was nothing but a whore to him." The last part was said very softly, and Whitney looked like he was ready to start bawling anytime now. Pete looked around to make sure that everyone else had left the locker room before putting an arm around his shoulders.
"Aw, don't say that. Clark really did care about you. He cares about everyone he sleeps with. Despite his. sluttiest personality traits, he is still to innocent to consider fucking someone he didn't genuinely like. It's just that he doesn't take it seriously, he's just having fun. The only person that Clark will ever be in love with is Lex. I don't really understand their relationship, but then again, who does right?"
While Pete was talking, Whitney had relaxed, and rested his head on Pete's shoulder, and placed a hand on Pete's thigh. Pete looked down at the top of Whitney's head, and couldn't stop himself from running his hand though his hair. It was different than Clark's, but it still felt really soft. He grasped at it, and gently pulled on it until he could look at Whitney's beautiful eyes. He gave a small grin.
"Don't worry whit, I'll take care of ya." He said softly, as he leaned down to brush his lips against Whitney's. He heard him gasp, and felt him open his mouth. But instead of diving in, he pulled at Whitney's bottom lip with his teeth and lightly sucked on it, caressing it with his tongue. He heard Whitney's moan, and grinned into the kiss as he felt Whitney's arms go around him and deepened the kiss. Surprisingly enough, despite the large dose of desire that the kiss had, they did only that. Eventually, the kiss simmered down, and they're lips separated. They looked into each other's eyes for a while with a silly grin on their faces, before they turned away, bashful, and Whitney was blushing. Pete was thanking God for making him black, and therefore unable to blush. But throughout all of this little drama, they never stopped touching each other.
"So." Whitney said finally, turning to look at Pete.
"yeah. We should probably start getting dress so we can get out of here." He said, but seem reluctant to stop touching the blond. Whitney didn't seem that much eager to stop either.
"yeah."
eventually they got dressed, and Whitney offered to drive Pete home, an offer which Pete accepted, forgetting that he had his own car. Oh well, he'll just have someone drive him back to school to pick it up. No way was he going to give up a chance to spend some time with Whitney! During the ride home, Whitney and Pete held hands and stole shy glances and smiles at each other.
When they got there, Whitney turn the car off and turned around to look at Pete.
"Thank you." He said softly.
"What for?" asked Pete, surprised.
"Well like you said, I was feeling really crappy all day, and you made me feel better. I didn't expect to get over it so fast. well at least not coping with it so well anyway. But I'm sure that it won't be long before I get over it completely now that I have someone else to occupy my time," he added with a wicked grin. Pete grinned and leaned over for a quick kiss that soon turned passionate. When they finally separated, they were panting but they both had silly grins on their faces.
"Well, I guess I should go in. I'll call you ok?" said Pete with a last caress to the quarterback's cheek before he grabbed his book bag and got out of the car.
"Alright then, later!" replied Whitney as he started the car up again. Pete stood there and waited until he could no longer see Whitney's car, before he headed into the house. For the life of him, he couldn't get the silly grin off of his face. His mom took one look at him and shook her head with a smile that said she was on to him.
Unlike most of the gay students in the school, he had been honest with his parents, and they had been fine with it. His parents had gone over board at first, buying every books they could find about parenting gay teens and brought him books to help him cope with his homosexuality, but after a while he got sick of it and told them to cut it out. He was still the same person he had always been when his parents hadn't known he was gay and wished to be treated as such. And they did. He wasn't sure if his parents knew that he had multiple sex partners, including their favorite mama's boy Kent, but he wasn't about to tell them about that.
"So who's the lucky man?" asked his mom.
"Whatever do you mean mother?" he replied innocently.
"Oh Please Pete. Don't try that innocent look on me. I taught it to you remember? Anyway, was that Whitney's truck I saw? Oh honey, you're not falling for a straight guy are you? Isn't he going out with Lana?" his mom frowned as she moved around the kitchen. Pete started helping as he replied.
"Yes that was Whitney. And trust me he's definitely not straight. Trust me." He frowned when he thought about Lana. What was the deal with that?
"I don't know what he's doing with Lana. He needs to stop leading her on like that. I think he's using her so that he won't be outed. He's old boyfriend may have accepted that, but if we're going to be dating, I won't stand for it."
"that's my boy. I'm proud of you honey. Now help your poor, decrepit old mother set up the table for dinner." She smiled.
He rolled his eyes, and helped her.
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AN: Happy Birthday to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm 19!!!!!!!! Yay! One more year until I'm no longer a teenager!! Yahoo.... wait a minute. Why is that a good thing? *wails* I'm getting old! Soon enough I'll have to worry about wrinkles and cellulite and gray hair and finding myself lying about my age to younger men. *whimper* save me!!!!!!!!!
Pete walked over to his locker, and started peeling of his wet, sticky, sweat smelling clothes. Yuck. He loved to be sweaty, but only during post- coital sex. While using his shirt to wipe off the extra sweat of his forehead, he glanced over and saw Whitney sitting on the bench looking really sad and rejected. He winced, remembering why Whitney looked like that. He sort of knew how Whitney felt. Pete had believed himself to be in love with Clark, and had been. disappointed when he found out that they would never be exclusive. But he got over it. He got to have sex with Clark every once in a while, and that was good enough for him.
He had been eying the sexy quarterback for a while now, but never guessed that he had been gay until Clark had told him that he had been fucking him. But he still hadn't made a move. He wasn't sure why. Well, that didn't matter anymore; it looked like Whitney needed a pick me up, and Pete knew exactly how to be of service. He forcefully pushed down the wicked grin that tried to plaster itself on his face.
"Hey Whitney." He said, sitting down next to him.
"Hey Pete," Whitney sighed in reply.
"what's wrong man? You've been lookin' like someone shot your dog, and I know you don't have one, so spill."
Whitney looked over at him, and got this perplexed look on his face.
"You're fucking him too aren't you?" he said suddenly.
Pete looked genuinely surprised, not having expected that from him.
"What do you mean?" He replied innocently.
"Don't try and play cute Ross, I know you're fucking Kent too. I've seen the looks you guys give each other. I never noticed it before, or maybe I just didn't want to see. He used to look at me like that. But now I find out I was nothing but a whore to him." The last part was said very softly, and Whitney looked like he was ready to start bawling anytime now. Pete looked around to make sure that everyone else had left the locker room before putting an arm around his shoulders.
"Aw, don't say that. Clark really did care about you. He cares about everyone he sleeps with. Despite his. sluttiest personality traits, he is still to innocent to consider fucking someone he didn't genuinely like. It's just that he doesn't take it seriously, he's just having fun. The only person that Clark will ever be in love with is Lex. I don't really understand their relationship, but then again, who does right?"
While Pete was talking, Whitney had relaxed, and rested his head on Pete's shoulder, and placed a hand on Pete's thigh. Pete looked down at the top of Whitney's head, and couldn't stop himself from running his hand though his hair. It was different than Clark's, but it still felt really soft. He grasped at it, and gently pulled on it until he could look at Whitney's beautiful eyes. He gave a small grin.
"Don't worry whit, I'll take care of ya." He said softly, as he leaned down to brush his lips against Whitney's. He heard him gasp, and felt him open his mouth. But instead of diving in, he pulled at Whitney's bottom lip with his teeth and lightly sucked on it, caressing it with his tongue. He heard Whitney's moan, and grinned into the kiss as he felt Whitney's arms go around him and deepened the kiss. Surprisingly enough, despite the large dose of desire that the kiss had, they did only that. Eventually, the kiss simmered down, and they're lips separated. They looked into each other's eyes for a while with a silly grin on their faces, before they turned away, bashful, and Whitney was blushing. Pete was thanking God for making him black, and therefore unable to blush. But throughout all of this little drama, they never stopped touching each other.
"So." Whitney said finally, turning to look at Pete.
"yeah. We should probably start getting dress so we can get out of here." He said, but seem reluctant to stop touching the blond. Whitney didn't seem that much eager to stop either.
"yeah."
eventually they got dressed, and Whitney offered to drive Pete home, an offer which Pete accepted, forgetting that he had his own car. Oh well, he'll just have someone drive him back to school to pick it up. No way was he going to give up a chance to spend some time with Whitney! During the ride home, Whitney and Pete held hands and stole shy glances and smiles at each other.
When they got there, Whitney turn the car off and turned around to look at Pete.
"Thank you." He said softly.
"What for?" asked Pete, surprised.
"Well like you said, I was feeling really crappy all day, and you made me feel better. I didn't expect to get over it so fast. well at least not coping with it so well anyway. But I'm sure that it won't be long before I get over it completely now that I have someone else to occupy my time," he added with a wicked grin. Pete grinned and leaned over for a quick kiss that soon turned passionate. When they finally separated, they were panting but they both had silly grins on their faces.
"Well, I guess I should go in. I'll call you ok?" said Pete with a last caress to the quarterback's cheek before he grabbed his book bag and got out of the car.
"Alright then, later!" replied Whitney as he started the car up again. Pete stood there and waited until he could no longer see Whitney's car, before he headed into the house. For the life of him, he couldn't get the silly grin off of his face. His mom took one look at him and shook her head with a smile that said she was on to him.
Unlike most of the gay students in the school, he had been honest with his parents, and they had been fine with it. His parents had gone over board at first, buying every books they could find about parenting gay teens and brought him books to help him cope with his homosexuality, but after a while he got sick of it and told them to cut it out. He was still the same person he had always been when his parents hadn't known he was gay and wished to be treated as such. And they did. He wasn't sure if his parents knew that he had multiple sex partners, including their favorite mama's boy Kent, but he wasn't about to tell them about that.
"So who's the lucky man?" asked his mom.
"Whatever do you mean mother?" he replied innocently.
"Oh Please Pete. Don't try that innocent look on me. I taught it to you remember? Anyway, was that Whitney's truck I saw? Oh honey, you're not falling for a straight guy are you? Isn't he going out with Lana?" his mom frowned as she moved around the kitchen. Pete started helping as he replied.
"Yes that was Whitney. And trust me he's definitely not straight. Trust me." He frowned when he thought about Lana. What was the deal with that?
"I don't know what he's doing with Lana. He needs to stop leading her on like that. I think he's using her so that he won't be outed. He's old boyfriend may have accepted that, but if we're going to be dating, I won't stand for it."
"that's my boy. I'm proud of you honey. Now help your poor, decrepit old mother set up the table for dinner." She smiled.
He rolled his eyes, and helped her.
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AN: Happy Birthday to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm 19!!!!!!!! Yay! One more year until I'm no longer a teenager!! Yahoo.... wait a minute. Why is that a good thing? *wails* I'm getting old! Soon enough I'll have to worry about wrinkles and cellulite and gray hair and finding myself lying about my age to younger men. *whimper* save me!!!!!!!!!