Cool Fools 2: Loss and Gain

Before the door opened, Woody had run back into his car. When Ron stepped out onto the front porch, Woody got back out of the car, pretending to have just arrived. The burly bald man stared at the young kid for a while and shook his head and went down to his car and drove off. Ethan poked his head out and smiled weakly at Woody.

“What’s up?” Woody asked, sounding as casual as possible.
“I just broke up with Ron,” Ethan said. 

Woody was surprised that Ethan was at least truthful in telling that. “Things just didn’t work out between you two?” 
Ethan stared at Woody for a moment and then nodded, “Exactly.”

For some reason, overhearing the break-up didn’t affect Woody too much. He felt that he would be a hypocrite to judge Ethan. After all, Woody, still a sophomore in high school, had dated fifteen or so girls—if you consider two-nights-stands dating. While Ethan had only 5 lovers even though he was a sophomore in college. That only thing that mattered to Woody was that Ethan did seem to love his sister, Laurie…no matter what Ron said. Woody put himself in Ethan’s shoe: would he be willing to have a long distance relationship with anyone if he wasn’t in love?

The college boy led the high-school boy down the basement. When the lights turned on, Woody marveled at what could only be described as a total fitness gym at home. Though Woody had been training with Ethan for a month now…he was still amazed at all the equipments…pulleys and presses and barbells and weights and treadmills…Woody felt like he needed a membership just to walk down the basement.

Woody was wearing a white wife-beater shirt and Ethan was wearing a snug white T, both able to see the definition of their bodies pretty well. Both bodies were impressive in their own respect. Both arms were strong and shapely, but of course Ethan’s were toner and leaner. Ethan’s shoulders were slightly broader, and Woody’s hips were slimer. Woody’s stomach was hard, flat, and smooth, but Ethan’s abs were more defined. Woody stood slightly hunched compared to Ethan’s perfectly erect stance. Ethan’s legs were thicker and tighter and a bit hairier, but there was one area of their bodies that Woody had Ethan beat...the rear.

As Woody began to squat, with 100 lbs of weight over his shoulders, his legs bending, trying to keep his back straight as he slowly went down and up again. Ethan stood a few feet back, not able to take his eyes off Woody’s round, lifted buttocks…The older boy was both admiring and jealous of the younger boy’s perfect buttocks. A great firm ass like that was God’s gift and was impossible to form by exercise if you didn’t have the package. As Woody’s legs began to wobble and his breathing became more strained, Ethan quickly ran up behind him and supported his trainee’s sides. Woody didn’t know what it was…but the sparks caused by Ethan’s hands always made him push one more time, strain one more crunch, effort one much squat, just one more…even when he was most fatigued…the touch was more powerful than any creatine or performance-enhancer. Woody bellowed one more time as he dipped for another squat and came back up, hooking the bar on the stand. Ethan patted his trainee on the back…and Woody felt all the pain leave from his body. 

And now it was Woody’s turn to spot Ethan. The built college student added an extra fifty pounds to the bars before hauling it above his shoulders. Woody hadn’t backed away in time when Ethan took a step back, so the older man could feel the younger man’s privates momentarily ramming up against his buttocks. Woody apologized openly, backing away, but secretly he had done so just to see how Ethan would react. And not disappointingly, Ethan uttered a perfect reaction that made Woody laugh, “Are you happy to see me, or was that a hernia?” 

Two hours flew by; both young men were sweating profusely as they concluded their workout with cardio, running beside each other on the treadmills. Woody knew he could not lift as much weigh as the older, stronger man; he could not do as many reps as Ethan could, but Woody considered himself to be a great runner. On the treadmill, there was a chance he could beat Ethan. 

Both were football players so both were naturally competitive, so Ethan wasn’t going to be outdone by someone four years younger than he. They both started out at five miles an hour, running that pace for ten minutes or so, and then one of them would press the speed up to 5.5 mph and the other would soon match that. And soon they were edging up to 6 mph. By the time they had seven miles per hour, they could feel acid eating away at their leg muscles, but to forget about the pain, they whipped off their shirts and were striking at the other with it. Of course, this was a dangerous game, but in the excitement of it all, the adrenaline mixed with some kind of sexual tension pumping in their bodies, who had time to stop and think about safety. They were running eight miles per hour now, still snapping their shirts at each other, still watching each other drown in sweat, the stink of their bodies reeking among then, but everything just drove them forward.

Soon they were staring at each other, no longer hitting each other with their shirts, they were just staring, immersed in each other’s colorful eyes…9 miles per hour… the world around them seemed still, they were running on air but swimming in each other’s gaze …until Woody fell backwards and landed several feet away, thankfully cushioned by protective pillows they had placed along the wall just in case. 

Ethan let himself fall off the treadmill as well, landing beside the boy on the pillows, both young men heaving with laughter at themselves. “Oh my god. Feel my heart,” Woody told Ethan. The older boy took his shaking arm and laid it on the younger boy’s chest. Woody’s heart was beating so fast, Ethan could almost feel the valves open and contracting as if he was holding the heart in his hand. “Now, let me feel yours…” Woody said softly. Ethan sat up and fought back a sigh of pleasure as he felt the younger boy’s hands slowly slide up his abs to his chest until the palm had cupped a good portion of his bulging pectorals.

Woody sat back up so his face was level with the older man’s. A strand of wet hair covered one side of Ethan’s face and Woody brushed it aside to see it in full view. He studied closely the captivating blue eyes under thick eyebrows, the perfect nose, the cheekbones that gave him a masculine, ruggedness quality, his strong jaw line, a perfect extension to his perfectly sculpted face. Ethan’s mouth was slightly open, showing a little of his upper row of teeth…but it was his lips that caught Woody’s attention…those soft looking, quivering lips. A drop of sweat trickled onto the bottom lip, and Woody could see Ethan’s tongue slightly protruding out to taste it…and that was it….Woody didn’t care what gay virus he caught…he just had to kiss the beautiful man. Closing his eyes, Woody leaned forward and planted his mouth on his trainer’s lips.

The kiss lasted for barely five seconds when the older man pulled away. “No, please don’t…”
“What…I know you want this…” Woody placed one hand at the back of the older man’s head; the other hand he placed firmly on Ethan’s sweaty back, pulling his body closer. And soon, their lips reconnected again.

Ethan knew that if he ended the kiss again, he would only disappoint the boy. But if he gave into the kiss and let it continue, he would only be hurting Woody more. But passion knocked out reason as Woody’s tongue slipped through and found his, as hot saliva exchanged between them, as breathy sighs steamed their noses. Ethan knew it would soon be a mistake but he went for it. Ethan’s hands groped at the younger boy’s slender sides, slowly sliding towards his back, holding him as their bodies reclined on the pillows, as Ethan spread his weight onto of the younger man. Their legs were now tangled like ivy vines, strapping about in impossible fashion, and the members between their legs were suddenly alive. As their kiss grew deeper and more passionate, both could feel their straining members gliding on top of one another under their shorts.

This was just a kiss…Ethan mind was contradicting itself…he shouldn’t even be kissing the younger boy at all. But at least it hadn’t transitioned into anything else. It was still wrong that he was kissing him. But as long as they were only kissing, Ethan reasoned it was fine to let it continue. 

Woody’s hands now explored the slick vastness of the older man’s muscle-lined back, feeling every bump and groove of the strong foundation, sliding ever so slowly down to his waistband, then venturing further under the black shorts to feel at the man’s firm buttocks. Woody would soon regret what he was going to do next, but at the moment it came instinctively. Woody spread Ethan’s cheeks apart and had slipped a finger in the damp crevice of the man’s rear end.

And that was it. It had transitioned into something else. Ethan hoisted himself away from the younger man, pulling himself back several feet and shaking his head, “No, this is wrong. This is wrong!”

“Come on,” Woody frowned, “What’s the matter?”
“I shouldn’t have led you on like this…”
“It’s my choice. I want to do this…” Woody touched Ethan’s cheeks.

But the older man knocked his hand aside, “No, I can’t let you. It’s not right. You’re the brother of the girl I loved. I can’t betray her like that…”

“My sister would have wanted us both to be happy…” said Woody, “And I know…I know you like me. And I think…I like you too…a lot. Not because of some stupid gay virus either.”

“No, but you see. We aren’t allowed to do this,” Ethan said, “If you could wait til you’re eighteen…then maybe we could start something…”

“Oh my god. Is that what you’re scared of? You’re afraid of being thrown in jail?” Woody flipped the middle finger at Ethan, “I fucking touched your ass crack with this finger. You know how fucking nasty I usually think that is…but I fucking touched your asshole anyway…and you’re too damn afraid of being known as a pervert. I’m sorry, but you fucking already are. Don’t you ever talk to me again, or I’m will call the police.”

Woody shot straight up and ran to the staircase, dodging all the treadmills and equipments. Ethan ran after the younger man, but really had no will to stop him. Instead, the college boy just followed the high-schooler up the stairs and watched as he ran out without a shirt to his car.