The Pale Blue Sky

by Jack Lynch

Part 4 - Carey, Chapter 3

15 Years Old. Bjorn.


Torment one. It was bad enough that Carey was in 10th grade Biology class. Worse, he didn't have a clue as to what the teacher was talking about.

Torment two. Two tables ahead, Lindy kept turning around to look at him. She was obviously hot after his ass. The feeling was far from mutual.

Torment three. Agony. His cock ached it was so hard. Bjorn's knee was pressed against his leg again.

It had started a few days ago. Bjorn's knee had brushed the side of Carey's leg. Carey looked at Bjorn inquisitively but he didn't seem to acknowledge the touch. During the same class, he did it again. Curious to see what might happen, Carey lightly brushed his own leg back against Bjorn's. He ignored Carey. He just looked ahead. He appeared to be concentrating on what the teacher was talking about.

Carey had known Bjorn, his table partner for Bio, since they were in 6th grade. They'd never hung out or anything. They barely knew each other.

Bjorn had very light blond straight hair, bangs, pale skin, and blue eyes, obviously of Scandinavian background. A head taller than Carey, he was sixth man on the school's basketball team. In other words, not quite good enough to start, but almost always the first one off the bench.

A head taller than Carey put Bjorn at close to six feet. After a large growth spurt, Carey himself was nearing 5'9." A massive amount of food was needed to fuel that growth. He was at the stage where he couldn't get enough to eat. Within two hours of dinner every night, Carey either consumed an entire pepperoni and sausage pizza or he would run down to Subway for a footlong. Nothing seemed to stick. He was growing but still rail thin at only 115 pounds. His mother claimed he was storing it all around his ankles. He wasn't. His ankles were pretty skinny, too.

He looked different, too. Finally having enough of the pudding bowl haircut, he struck out on his own one day looking for someone new to cut his hair. Passing by the House of Mr. Bruce, the salon where his mother got her hair done and where he'd been taken since he was a little boy, he traveled all the way across town to a place he'd seen a few times. Marv's Barber Shop was a real man's hair salon. Located in an older commercial strip, the shop still had a revolving barber pole on the outside of the building.

The first person he encountered when he entered was the only person there. Enrico, or Rico, as everyone apparently called him, greeted him with a big smile.

In a thick Hispanic accent he cheerfully called out, "Qué Pasa!"

Carey laughed. This was going to be fun!

After a short conversation about what he wanted, Rico showed him a couple of pictures in a magazine.

"Leave it to me, mi amigo!" Rico said.

Skillfully and swiftly, his scissors clipped away. Rico's comb and fingers flew across Carey's head. Watching his reflection in the mirror, Carey smiled gleefully at the transformation.

When he finished, Rico stepped back from the chair and in an inquisitive tone asked, "Señor?"

Carey smiled, "How do i say it?"

"You say, perfecto!"

"That's it! Perfecto!"

Carey loved the way his hair looked. Now parted on the left, it fell neatly over the top of his head. Short bangs covered the top of his forehead. The hair on the sides was cut fairly short around his ears and the back of his neck. His mom was going to hate it. So what, he thought!

After the previous encounter in Bio, Carey decided to make the first move. He lightly brushed his knee against the side of Bjorn's leg. This time he left it there.The heat from the knee to leg touching was intense. Carey got an instant erection. He could hardly concentrate on the teacher's lecture. There seemed to be no response from Bjorn. Eventually, Carey moved his knee away.

He settled down and tried to return his attention to class. Minutes later, Bjorn's knee touched the side of Carey's leg. Just like Carey did, he left it there. When class ended, they both got up and gathered their books. Nothing was said between the two of them.

Over the next few days the same sequence of knee to leg touching took place, each time longer and more deliberate. Carey could hardly breathe. Bjorn never seemed to acknowledge Carey or what was going on. Either that or he was pretending not to notice. But, how could he not?? Carey fantasized about Bjorn non-stop. When he jerked off at night, he imagined the softness of his inner thighs and the smoothness of his chest.

Throwing caution to the wind one day, leg and knee firmly held against each other, Carey lightly placed a hand on the top of Bjorn's thigh. Bjorn gave a swift intake of breath but kept staring straight ahead. After class, again no words were exchanged. Carey watched Bjorn just walk away and slowly shook his head.

Later that day, Carey saw Bjorn in the hallway leaning with his back against his locker. He nodded at Carey and gave a subtle jerk to his head beckoning him over to where he was standing.

"Wanna hang out?" he said quietly.

Carey was totally flustered. What did he mean? Now? School was still on.

So, he just blurted out, "When?"

"After school doof!" Bjorn said with a slight chuckle.


"My place."

"Oh, ok," Carey said.

He was at a total loss for words. He stumbled away almost in a trance, not able to utter another word. The rest of the school day, what was left of it, crawled by. When the final bell rang he sprinted out of the school building and ran home. By the time Carey got there he was sweating, not just from running, but from the anxiety he was feeling. A quick jump in the shower, fresh clothes including his favorite shirt, and after running a comb through his hair, he stopped for a moment to appraise himself in the bathroom mirror. Not bad, he thought, but not great either. It would have to do.

Bjorn's house was just a few blocks away. It seemed farther because it wasn't a straight shot; more of a zig zag through the neighborhood. But, Carey was there in just a few minutes. When he pressed the doorbell he thought of bolting right then and there. Before he could turn away, the door opened. Bjorn stood there, looking down at him.

"No one's here," he said.

Carey looked up at him quizzically. Well, Bjorn was here. Then it dawned on him. Bjorn had an older brother and a younger sister.

"Oh, ok," Carey said.

Bjorn leaned forward as he pushed the storm door open to let Carey enter. As he walked by him into the house his nose caught a whiff of him. He smelled pleasantly like laundry detergent.

"Would you like a Coke?" Bjorn asked.

"Sure," Carey mumbled.

Bjorn grabbed a couple of cans of Coke from the refrigerator in the kitchen and handed one to Carey.

"Come on up," Bjorn said, gesturing to the stairway.

Leading the way, they walked up the stairs and around a corner to a bedroom in the back of the house. This was obviously Bjorn's.

"I used to share this room with my brother, but he moved to his own room in the basement last year."

It was a pretty cool room. A slanted ceiling was on one one side; flat on the other. It was sort of like an attic space. Sports pennants were mounted on the slanted section of the ceiling and other posters lined the walls of the room. A window seat stacked with books and papers was on the far end of the room. Bjorn went to it and threw the books and other stuff on the floor. Looking at Carey, he sat down.

An awkward moment passed where they just stared at each other. Wordlessly, Carey sat down next to Bjorn. Trying to calm his nerves, he gulped a mouthful of Coke. Naturally, some of it went down the wrong pipe causing Carey to cough and choke for what seemed like an eternity. Bjorn just chuckled.

They casually talked about school for a few minutes. As they did, Bjorn gradually let his legs fall open until his knee and thigh were steadily pressed against Carey's leg. Conversation stopped suddenly. They both stared at their two legs pressed up against each other.

"You can put your hand on my leg again," Bjorn said, pausing for effect. "Like you did in school."

Carey looked at Bjorn as he felt himself blush red. He slowly moved his hand over and put it on top of Bjorn's leg. Carey could feel the warmth of it against the palm of his own hand. With them both looking down, he slowly wrapped it around the inside of Bjorn's thigh and held it there.

Carey's eyes met Bjorn's ice blue eyes. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Tentatively, Bjorn brought his hand up to the top button of his shirt and pushed it open with his finger. Carey's eyes were riveted on Bjorn's fingers as they slid down to the next button. Smooth pale skin appeared in the open gap of his shirt. As Carey watched, Bjorn steadily unbuttoned his shirt as his rising and falling bare chest and smooth stomach appeared.

Carey put his hands up to the neck of his own shirt and pulled it over his head. Bjorn shrugged his shoulders out of his shirt. Both boys were now shirtless. Bjorn brought one knee up to his chest as he pulled one sock off of his foot followed by the other one. Carey turned slightly toward Bjorn and brought his own knee onto the bench. Half facing him, Carey also pulled his socks off.

Bjorn sucked his stomach in slightly as he pulled his belt open and unbuttoned his jeans. For a moment, they just stared into each other's eyes.

"'You ok?" Bjorn asked.

Carey couldn't find his voice to reply; he could only nod. Instead, he slid his hand back onto Bjorn's upper thigh. Unlike the moment at school, this time he brought his hand around to the inner part of Bjorn's thigh and held it there. Bjorn pulled his zipper down and lifted one hip and then the other to shrug his jeans off of his hips letting them fall down to his ankles.

Carey let his eyes fall to the bulge in Bjorn's white briefs. Carey's own raging erection was painful. He somewhat shyly unbuttoned his own jeans and pulled them off of each leg. They sat for a moment just looking at each other's erections through their underwear.

Bjorn reached for the waistband of his underpants but Carey stopped him.

"Here. Let me."

Bjorn lifted his hips slightly so Carey could slide them down. Bjorn raised one ankle and then the other as Carey could pulled them off. His eyes took in Bjorn's now naked body. Smooth pale skin, taut stomach, light brown patch of pubic hair, and a pink throbbing cock. Carey inhaled Bjorn's boy smell, a kind of warm musky aroma.

With only one thing to do, Carey yanked his own briefs down and off. He let out a long sigh.

As they looked into each other's eyes, they both began to stroke their cocks. From time to time, one and then the other would glance down to gaze at the other's cock. Bjorn's legs opened wider. Carey leaned forward a bit to stare at Bjorn's cock and the spot underneath between his balls and his butt.

After what seemed like either a moment or an eternity, Bjorn clenched his eyes shut, sucked his stomach in, and expelled a rifle shot of cum. Even though Carey loved watching the cum spurt out of Bjorn's cock, his eyes were on his creamy thighs. Just like in his fantasies, Bjorn's inner thighs were pearly white. With his legs naked and spread wide, his high inner thighs next to his balls looked like silk. Carey wondered what it would taste like, feel like, smell like, if he leaned over and kissed Bjorn there. Smooth, sweet tasting like honey, mixed with the mild smell of balls, pee, and spunk. He felt an overwhelming desire to bend over and kiss them. Carey felt that momentary numbness in his cock before he too pumped out a stream of cum.

As each one of them started breathing more normally they looked at each other for a sign. Was this ok or was it…? A very slight smile came over Carey and, after seeing the same returned from Bjorn, Carey slumped over and laid his head between Bjorn's neck and shoulder. They stayed that way for quite awhile before Bjorn sort of shrugged Carey off and stood up.

He started to head toward the bathroom but he stopped and turned for a moment. He wanted to make sure Carey was looking at his back, butt, and legs. After wiping themselves off, they both sheepishly got dressed and Carey left.

They met in the hallway at school the next day. Awkwardly, they talked around different subjects afraid to even broach the subject of the events of the previous day.

Days passed during which Bjorn continued to let Carey put his hand on his thigh during Biology class. Later that week, one of the starters on the basketball team got injured during a game. Bjorn was promoted to starting forward. Concentration on basketball was now paramount.

After class one day, Bjorn pulled Carey aside.

"That's enough," he said in a stern, monotone voice. "We've got to stop."

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