Knots, Book 4
by Elias Scott
Sunday was a quiet day. I went into the garage and worked on the lathe and found myself every now and then looking at the place where I'd hidden the money. Images of the older men and guys Andy and I had sex with slithered into my brain like snakes. The picture of Andy broken in pieces made me think of how stupid we were. But the real problem began when I got to school on Monday.
You know how children always say they're bored. That's exactly what I was. There was nothing there to excite me anymore. At first I was anxious to get my job back from Frank, but hell, the thought of football, after everything we'd done, didn't seem exciting anymore. All my goals seemed insignificant. Sure, I'd found myself feeling like that off and on, but now it felt like it was deep inside me and it was going to take over everything I ever was or hoped to be.
Thomas was with Colton, Andy was in a wheelchair, Ernie and Alan were all excited about the season, Gina and Emily were dating a couple of seniors, and Andy and I were retired prostitutes. I was going to say with nowhere to go. But we did have someplace to go and that was up. We'd sunk about as low as we could go. The lack of energy to rise above all this was the problem. Class was boring. Our friends were moving on with their lives, and I felt like I was treading water and coming close to drowning.
Escaping into a life of sex didn't even interest me anymore. If someone had told me I wouldn't be interested in sex a couple of months back, I wouldn't have believed him. It almost pissed me off to see how happy Thomas and Colton were. I could have had Thomas, but no, I had other things on my mind. I could be starting varsity quarterback, but now I didn't give a damn. There was excitement in my voice when I was talking to my parents, but there was nothing inside. If I did run for junior class president, I'd be faced with a hell of a lot of embarrassment.
I never thought I'd say it, but I couldn't wait for Saturday so I could meet with Dr. Walker again. Maybe he had some answers. That's obviously not true because he doesn't answer questions. He made me answer them.
Thomas and Colton
Thomas and Colt were sitting at our table during lunch holding hands under the table. Everyone had grown used to it and ignored them.
"Colt, how 'bout taking in a movie this week?" Thomas asked.
"Great idea. What do you want to see?"
Thomas shrugged. "How 'bout the Spiderman movie?"
"Sounds good to me."
Thomas squeezed Colt's hand.
Thomas had taken his relationship with Colt slowly. He hadn't wanted to scare him off, but he didn't have to worry about that because Colt thought he loved Thomas. They'd gone on dates, which to everyone else, just looked like two guys doing something together. Thomas never kissed Colt in public or held his hand. But they hadn't had an opportunity to spend much private time together because Thomas had football every day after school.
Colt met Thomas before football practice. "How 'bout we go out to the pond this weekend after the movie?"
Thomas smiled. "What do you have in mind?"
"Nothing. Just thought we could have some alone time without a lot of people around."
"Is that all? I'm disappointed."
"Let's not talk about it now. I just wanted you to think about it."
Thomas headed to the gym and Colton looked like he was bouncing as he made a beeline to the bus.
Life was shit. I had to go to school on Monday in my wheelchair. A lot of GSA members came up to me and told me how sorry they were. A lot of them visited me in the hospital and at home. It made me realize that some of the good things we do come back to us in ways we never expect. So while I appreciated their concern, I was still in a damn wheelchair, not playing football, and hating school.
It's strange now when I think about it, because I was ready to kill myself over Dillon and now I was just pissed and bored. You have no idea what it was like to look around and see everyone living normal lives. Couples would be walking each other to class, some guys would be horsing around between classes, shoving each other, and getting warnings from Dax, the hall monitor. Many were just walking down the hall in small groups laughing and talking as if they didn't have a care. I could remember when school was like that for me. But now it was hella boring. I knew Matt felt the same because we'd talked about it.
It was our junior year and Matt and I should have been playing football together, but there I was in a wheelchair, and he was trapped between who he'd become and who he had been. Matt didn't seem prepared to cope with it, and I began to think that I might have to save him.
I still wasn't myself at practice. Or maybe I was myself at practice. Looking back on it now, I think that was the case. Then on Wednesday, Frank Kutcher brought me to the end of my rope where there should have been a knot to stop me.
I was standing around talking to a few of the guys before practice when Frank came up to us. "What's the matter Spence, does having too much sex with guys worn out?"
"No, but then you wouldn't know anything about any kind of sex because the only one you have sex with is your dog."
"You're wrong, my good man. Gina's quite the little woman."
That was all it took. I ran at him, knocked him to the ground, and started pounding his face. Some guys tried to pull me off, but I kept at him. "Take it back!"
He couldn't have if he wanted to because I didn't give him a chance. A couple of guys got me off him and Kutcher started to come after me, and then he stopped. "I'm not losing my starting position to you for fighting."
I pulled loose from the two guys holding me and hit Kutcher in the mouth and went after him again with more punches until I heard: "Matt, stop. Have you gone mad?"
It was Coach Gilbert. I stopped as he came up to us. "Who started it?"
Frank pointed at me. "He did. He hit me first."
"Is that true Matt?"
I dropped my head. "Yes, Coach."
"You know it's an automatic one game suspension for fighting. We expect everyone to respect their teammates."
I normally would have argued, but I didn't give a shit. Greg Johnson, who'd played quarterback last year behind Andy, surprised me when he said, "Frank made a bad comment about Gina Lockhart." The only reason I could think of that would get Greg Johnson to say anything was the fact that he might have been interested in Gina. Why else would he have said anything?
Coach looked to Frank. "Is that true?"
"Coach, I was just fooling around. It meant nothing. Anyway, he hit me. Look at my face and look at him. I didn't fight, Coach. He did."
Coach Gilbert shook his head. "Damn, you guys piss me off. I hate doing this, but Matt, you're suspended from this week's game. I expect you to be at practice and then be in your uniform sitting on the sidelines during the game."
"I won't do it, Coach. If I can't play, just send me home."
"Sorry, Matt. I can't do that. You have a responsibility to the team and I have responsibilities to you. I expect you here."
I was too tired to argue. "Yes, Coach."
The only thing I can say about that afternoon was that it wasn't boring and whaling on Frank Kutcher made my day and the rest of the week. My parents weren't very happy about it though.
I paced the sidelines Friday night, but all I could think about was meeting with Dr. Walker the next day.
It seemed strange being in Dr. Walker's office without Andy. I remember thinking maybe Dr. Walker liked having sex with guys my age. Stupid thought, I know, but that was just the way my mind worked. He pointed to the chair to his right as he sat down.
"How was your week?"
"Okay, I guess."
He grabbed his yellow notepad. "Anything interesting happen?"
"No, not really." I had no idea if my parents talked to him or not. I figured they wouldn't be able to get any information out of him since everything that happened between us was private.
"You play football, right? Did you play this week?"
Shit, I knew he'd get to the damn why question sometime during the session.
"I got in a fight."
Walker jotted something down. "So why did you tell me nothing interesting happened?"
I cleared my throat. "I don't know. I really don't want to talk about it."
"What do you want to talk about?"
Nothing came out of my mouth and I wondered if I should really tell him what was on my mind. "Well, uh. I'm bored. Nothing excites me anymore. School's boring. Football's boring. I'm boring."
He looked me in the eye. "Why do you think you feel that way?"
"Uh, depression maybe?"
"Do you know what depression is?"
"Not really. But something's wrong." I folded my arms. "If you really want to know, it's because everything is boring after all the fun and excitement Andy and I had over the summer. I know it didn't end well for either of us, and while we regret what we did, it gave us a high of sorts and now the high's gone."
"So why did you call it depression?"
"I don't know what else to call it."
Dr. Walker crossed one knee over the other, reached on the table, grabbed a dictionary, and handed it to me. "Find the definition and read it to me."
I fumbled through the pages as if he had a timer on me until I found it. "Depression: Feelings of severe despondency and dejection. Self-doubt creeps in and that swiftly turns to depression."
"Does what you're feeling fit that definition?"
"Yes, especially the part about self-doubt. I used to be confident. I had goals and now I have nothing, absolutely nothing."
"Who's responsible for those feelings?"
I hesitated. "I don't know."
"Are your parents responsible?"
"Is Andy responsible?"
"Is your coach responsible?"
"So who's responsible?"
I didn't say anything until the silence made me speak. "I guess I am."
"So if you're responsible for them, why don't you do something about them?"
"Yes, you. Can anyone else do it for you?"
He had me there. "I hadn't thought about that until you brought it up. I guess you're right. I'm the only one who can do anything about it. But I don't think I have the strength or desire to do it."
He smiled and patted me on the knee. "That's why I'm here."
We continued through this line of therapy until he finally said, "I'm going to write you a prescription to help you with your depression."
"I won't take them. I don't want to take any drugs."
He stood, so I stood. He patted me on the back on our way to the door. "Let's give it another week, and then we can decide."
These counselors are clever. First he tells me I'm responsible and then he says, "We'll decide." I wasn't going to take any drugs no matter what. I remember reading that one of the Columbine kids was on some kind of anti-depressant and I remember wondering if it had anything to do with the crazy shit he and the other guy did.
I'm not sure why I felt better when I left his office, but I did.
My dad dropped me off in front of Doc Walker's building. I wheeled myself into the elevator, and then to the door to Wheeler's waiting room. His receptionist didn't work Saturdays and it took a while before he heard me kicking the door with my good foot.
I liked Dr. Walker because he joked around like we were old friends. Maybe it was part of his therapy, but he was friendly, and while he still asked 'why, and how does that make you feel', he was an adult that I felt I could talk to about anything. Well, almost anything.
"Good morning, Andy. You look happy."
"I am, Doc. I felt a hell of a lot better after our last session. Matt and I worked out a few things between us too."
"Good to hear."
I thought he was going to ask me what we worked out, but he didn't. The guy never does what you expect.
"So, Andy. How did your week go?"
"Not bad. I was a little down at school. I talked to Matt and he felt the same."
"Is there anything in particular you'd like to talk about?"
That surprised me. The damn guy was always surprising me.
"Let me think…Doc, I've always been a little crazy. Matt was always the guy who did everything by the book and I always kind of winged it. I got involved with Dillon Burke and what he did really hurt. I kind of feel responsible for Matt. He was sort of right. If I had listened to him, he might still be a virgin. But then he and I would have never had sex and while you might not like to hear me say it, the sex was awesome."
"Is it awesome only with Matt or does it make any difference who it is with?"
I exhaled. "Good question. I've had a lot of sex for somebody my age with boys and girls. I'd like to say that sex with Matt was better. But my sex with Dillon was awesome as long as I thought he loved me. I know Matt loves me, but the sex is less passionate. I feel bad saying that."
I wondered how long it was going to be before he asked why. "To be honest, Doc, I'm not sure. Sex with Dillon was hot and wild." I paused. "I can't believe I'm telling you this stuff."
"Maybe you've been selling yourself short. You seem to be in touch with your feelings more than a lot of boys your age."
"Thanks, Doc. It's Matt. He's the mature one. He and I talk. I often call him Saint Matthew."
"He's always trying to be good, but he also has a lot of guilt."
"Do you have any guilt?"
I paused to think about it. "It depends. Are guilt and regret the same thing?"
He jotted down some notes and took a sip of water from the glass on the table. "Good question. What do you think?"
"I don't know. That's why I was asking you."
"Like I said last week, I ask the questions here and you give the answers," he said with a smile. "You know the answer. It's my job to make you realize it. Let me ask you two different questions. First, how would you define guilt?"
"Um. Good question. I guess guilt is when you feel guilty about something."
"Sorry, Andy. That's what they call a circular definition. You're defining guilt as feeling guilty. Think about it some more."
I started pacing in my wheelchair. "Let me start with regret. Regret is when you did something that you wished you'd never done because of the consequences. You know, like prostituting myself, getting the crap beat out of me, and ending up in this wheelchair. That's regret. But I don't feel guilty. Stupid maybe, but not guilty."
A smile crossed Dr. Walker's face. "Nice. I agree with you. Now, back to the guilt."
I glanced up as if the answer was written on the ceiling. "Guilt? Hmm. The first thing that comes to mind is if you commit a sin. You feel guilty if you sinned. I don't feel guilty about being gay because I don't think it's a sin. I don't have any regrets either. But when it comes to Matt, I have some guilt because I feel I hurt him by not listening when he warned me about Dillon. And of course, that led to him doing things he might not have otherwise done. Do I feel guilty about prostituting myself? Yes and no. I'd feel guilty if I had sex with a married man because I'd feel bad for his wife and kids. I don't think that ever happened, but it would make me feel guilty."
"Not bad for a sixteen year old."
"Yes, Doc, I'm wise beyond my years."
"So if I understand you correctly, you don't feel guilty about what you did with Dillon. You feel regret. But with Matt, you feel guilt. Is that right?"
"Are you responsible for Matt's decision to give his virginity to you?"
"No. Well, kinda. I'm not sure."
"Did you decide or did he?"
Walker wrote something on his pad, took another sip of water, then raised his glass toward me. "Do you want some?"
I shook my head.
He set the glass down. "Do you think Matt feels guilty or has regrets?"
"Both, I think. Me too." I paused in thought. Then it was as if lightning struck. "You know, Doc, after our last session Matt and I were both angry with each other. As usual, we talked it out, but thinking about it now, I think the anger came from a battle that took place between our feelings of guilt and our feelings of regret. Does that make sense?"
He smiled. "That makes perfect sense."
"Ha, Doc. You answered a question."
He laughed. "You got me there. It's easy to confuse the two. You don't feel guilty about being gay because you haven't done something to feel guilty about. But the actions you take related to your being gay, might cause you to have both guilt about certain actions and regret about others. I think you did a good job of explaining that earlier. You don't feel guilty when you have sex with Matt. You didn't feel guilty when you had sex with Dillon, but you do feel guilty about how your sex with Dillon affected Matt. Is that about right?"
"Yeah. That's it."
"Well, Matt made his own decisions and I understand your feelings of guilt, but you are not responsible for what Matt did. You might be responsible for his being put in the situation, but it wasn't your decision to make. Wouldn't you agree?"
"You're right, Doc. That's it. And by the way, you snuck in an answer there somehow."
He grabbed his glass of water and saluted me with it before downing the rest.
"Our time is up, but let me leave you with this. You are special. You have a certain wisdom a lot of sixteen year olds don't have. Yes, you've made mistakes. But we all make mistakes. It's what we do after we make them that counts. Right now, you need to focus on school and getting back on your feet. I want you to spend this week giving school as much effort as possible. It won't be easy, but it's part of your recovery. I hear you're going to be out of the cast and on crutches by next week. Is that right?"
"Okay, Andy. Good session. See you next week."
Thomas and Colton
Thomas and Colt sat in the balcony at the back of the theater so they could hold hands and sneak an occasional kiss. Thomas placed their hands on Colt's thigh and moved in for a kiss and some spit swapping. He let his hand slip out of Colt's. He placed it on his boyfriend's crotch. Colt pulled back from the kiss. "I like that."
Thomas could feel Colt's cock rising to the occasion. "I can tell."
Colt rubbed his hand down Thomas' leg to his crotch where he felt something both soft and hard. "Seems like you like it too."
Thomas stood. "Let's get out of here. I like your idea about heading out to the pond. The weather is cool enough that there probably won't be anybody out there but us."
"Cool. No one but us."
They hid their bikes in the bushes and found the pond deserted. Thomas waited for Colt to make the first move, but he didn't. "Are you going to kiss me or not?"
Colt spoke softly. "I don't know what to do."
Thomas grabbed him. "No need to be afraid. We both want the same thing, don't we?"
"Yeah, I think so. I'm not sure. You're more experienced than I am."
Thomas kissed him and licked Colt's lips with his tongue, hoping the other boy would take the hint and open his mouth. Colt let out a soft gasp, which was all the opening Thomas needed. He slowly sought out the other boy's tongue with his own. Colt put his hand behind Thomas' neck and pulled him in tighter. Thomas pulled back. "See, you're a natural."
Colt smiled. "I guess maybe it does come naturally."
They kissed again. Thomas put his hand under Colt's coat and shirt and rubbed them over his chest and stomach. Colt moaned. "That feels good."
Thomas opened Colt's coat, lifted his shirt, and licked each nipple before putting them into his mouth. At first Colt didn't move. He stood there and savored the feel of Thomas' touch and his lips and tongue on his nipples.
"Let me get my coat and shirt off."
"See, I told you it comes naturally."
Colt pulled his coat and shirt off before doing the same to Thomas. Without thinking, Colt put his arms around Thomas so their bare chests were touching as he kissed him and stuck his tongue deep into Thomas' mouth. The warmth from their bodies passed between them as they held their kiss and Thomas unbuckled Colt's belt buckle, unbuttoned the top button of Colt's jeans, and pulled down the zipper so they dropped to the ground. Colt did the same to Thomas.
Thomas pulled back. "See, nothing to it."
"Yeah, I just follow your lead."
They stepped out of their jeans and Thomas knelt on his jeans and rubbed Colt's hard cock through his boxer briefs. "We need to get these off." He pulled his briefs down and Colt stepped out of them. Thomas took Colt's cock in his mouth as Colt's dick got harder.
"Damn, Thomas. That's awesome. You're my first."
"I know. So we'll go slow."
"Evidently not slow enough, because I'm going to cum."
Thomas felt Colt's cock grow harder in his mouth and he let it stay there giving it just enough of a tease so Colt's could pump cum into his mouth without any irritation to the tip of his penis. Colt's whole body stiffened. "Oh. Oh. Shit, Thomas," he panted. "I'm going to cum. Fuck. Can I cum in your mouth?"
Colt looked down at Thomas and saw him nod as his orgasm began.
Thomas tried to swallow it all down without missing a drop, but some cum escaped and dripped onto his chin. He looked up at Colt whose eyes were closed and his face flushed.
"Oh shit, fuck, and everything else. That was so fucking awesome. Why'd we wait so long?" he gasped out as his orgasm subsided.
"A good wine ages with time. I can't believe I just said that."
"Neither can I." Colt grabbed hold of his penis and shook it back and forth. "My cock has never had it so good. Now it's your turn or my turn, whatever."
Colt pulled Thomas into him again so their warm bodies pressed against each other. Colt whispered, "This feels so good. You're so warm and the cool air on our naked bodies makes me feel so free. It's something I've never experienced before." He kissed Thomas as he put his hand on Thomas' cock. He pulled back. "Nice one. I'm not sure if I'm going to be any good at sucking you."
"Don't worry. You'll be fine. Like I said, this shit comes naturally."
Colt knelt on his folded pair of jeans, pulled Thomas' boxer briefs down to his ankles, and took hold of his cock as if he was grabbing a sausage to put in his mouth. He rolled it toward his mouth, licked around the tip, and then took it in. Thomas moaned. "Colt, that feels good. See, you're a natural."
"I'm not sure what I was expecting, but your cock is nice, and it doesn't have any taste. Well, maybe it tastes like skin."
"What did you expect? It's like any other part of the body except it brings a guy lot more pleasure and fun."
Colt took Thomas' dick back into his mouth as he looked up with his eyes wide. He rolled his tongue around the tip and tried to go deeper, but gagged. "I don't think I can take it all."
Thomas started to pant. "It's not necessary. You're doing fine."
Colt licked the shaft, sucked as deep as he could, took one of Thomas' balls in his mouth, popped it out, and licked and sucked the head of Thomas' cock until he heard Thomas' breathing quicken and his cock and balls tighten. Colt pulled off. "I don't think I'm ready to drink your cum."
"That's all right. Just keep sucking, and I'll tell you when I'm ready." Thomas' face was flushed. He grabbed Colt's hair to help him along.
It didn't take long. "I'm going to cum. Pull off. Oh fuck you're good. Shit. Oh, oh, damn that feels good." Cum shot out of Thomas' hard member onto Colt's face. Thomas reached down, pulled Colt up, hugged him, and gave him a number of gentle kisses on his lips, cheeks, and forehead before saying, "Hey, that was damn good for your first blowjob."
Colt smiled proudly. "Thanks."
One of our readers sent me a quote that he wrote based on the last chapter. I revised it some, but it's still his quote and I thought I'd post it here. "Life is not about winning or losing the race, but about the fact that every day we choose to run in that race and participate in the game of life. And hopefully, do it as wisely as we can in order to make our lives better from the wisdom gained. It matters not if we've lost or won. What matters is that we not repeat our mistakes and keep hurting ourselves and those we love." - BlueratR
Frankly, I have always dreaded writing - there always seemed to be pain involved, unpleasant self-examination and a lot of fear. - Trent Reznor
The biggest research of all when I do a character is self-examination. You look at yourself and you ask, 'How am I similar to this person and how am I different?' - Vera Farmiga
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