Partners
By John V. O. Yager
The following story is a work of gay erotic fiction depicting sexual acts between boys of high school age. If such stories are not to your liking or if you are not of legal age to read such stores in your jurisdiction, please exit now. This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives or any specific person or persons. Any similarity to actual persons or events is entirely coincidental.
This work is copyrighted by the author and my not be reproduced in any form without specific written permission of the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author.
jvoyager@hotmail.com
Bill and Sam had been best friends since before kindergarten. Their parents were best friends and since the boys were both only children, their folks thought it was great that the two of them had each other. They were so close that many people, seeing them together, assumed they were brothers. In fact, most assumed that they are twins.
They would have had to be fraternal twins, because they weren't identical. Certainly, they were very nearly the same height and build and they continued to be so as they grew up. But Bill had rather sharp, angular features and light brown hair with a definite reddish overtone, while Sam had softer, rounder features and blond hair. As they grew older, Sam became strikingly handsome in a rather classical sense while Sam kept a boyish cuteness right into adulthood.
Both boys were prodigiously intelligent. That fact alone tended to set them apart. They were always at least one year ahead of their peers and in most subjects, two or more years ahead of their classmates. Conversations with teachers over putting them ahead a year or even two were so routine that their parents had developed a kind of unified front when it came to addressing such suggestions. All four parents strongly agreed that academic advancement would only impede social development and insisted on keeping they boys with their own age group.
Perhaps it was their intelligence as much as their extremely close friendship, but for what ever reason, Bill and Sam, by the time they were seven or eight, had developed their own language. "Language" might have been too strong a word for it, although it did depart from normal English grammar in several important ways, mainly through the assumption of subjects, which were more or less conveyed by context and association.
Where their communication was most unique, though, was in its vocabulary. It wasn't just that they invented their own words for things, but that their inventive process was on-going, even organic. In the boys' unique and very private conversation, a specific meaning could be conveyed by one sound one day and then evolve into a seemingly unrelated sound the next.
Much later, as adults, they discovered Cockney Rhyming Slang, and knew at once that it was somehow related to what they had been doing with American usage for years.
By the time they were teenagers they had perfected their private language to such a degree that they could carry on entire conversations within the confused hearing of others, including their parents, classmates and teachers, without anyone else being able to understand a thing which they were saying. They found it was a very valuable ability and it certainly contributed greatly to the strength of their relationship.
By the time the boys were in the fourth or fifty grade they had discovered the joys of sexual play. Actually, in their minds, it was not a datable discovery so much as a natural development of the kind of touching and playing, the kinds of uninhibited expressions of physical affection, which they had always practiced together.
On sleep-overs on weekends or any other nights they could talk their parents into them, they'd stay awake into the early hours of the morning just playing naked under the covers. Having known each other since infancy, they thought nothing of being naked together.
It was also natural that by the time they were twelve they had discovered masturbation. In fact, unlike most young boys, they never thought of it as something you did to yourself. In their shared experience of what they first called "pulling," (which quickly became "puller," then "pull," then "ull" and finally, in its more or less fixed form "ulp," a further contorting of the original term coupled with a rather pleasing interpretation of the sounds they made when the exercise reached its natural conclusion) it was always something Bill did to Sam and Sam did to Bill. It wasn't for another two or three years that they figured out that most boys did it along, and of course other boys had a lot of other names for it. But then, other boys didn't have a friendship like theirs.
By the time they started middle school Bill and Sam had figured out a lot of things. For one thing, they knew they really loved each other and wanted to always be together.
By the time they got to high school, they had heard the term 'Lovers" and applied it to themselves. The term "Partners" was just then coming into common usage for relationships outside the business world, and it too became a part of their collective self image.
When they were fifteen they moved on from ulp to ogors and then at seventeen to analbo, which soon became the end all and be all of their sexual life. There were few weeks when they made it from weekend to weekend without two or three ogors secessions and, more than likely a little analbo thrown in.
In high school they discovered the joys of sports. They had noticed that certain other boys had a look and a physical presence which other kids would call sexy or hot. Their word for it was "berg." The evolution of that term had been so convoluted that even the boys had forgotten its etymology, although they agreed it had been, in some sense, derived from "bulge."
They had further determined that there was a direct correlation between physique and berg, and that physique was a direct outgrowth of physical activity. With that discovery in hand, they had taken up weight training, then games, and soon settled on baseball as their choice of team sports, largely because of its more cerebral underpinnings, derived, they eventually discovered, from its British antecedent, cricket, which, in its more esoteric forms, rivaled their own linguistic systems for complexity.
The result of these new loves was the perfecting of their own bodies which were soon honed to a degree of berg which few of their fellows could rival. By their junior year in high school, they had assumed the co-captainship of the baseball team. They were also chosen as co-captains of the debate team. Then in the spring of that year, they compounded things by running for and being elected to the co-presidency of their senior class for the following year.
Bill and Sam were popular, sought after and happy. They dated as much as was necessary to fulfill their social commitments and defuse any consideration of the exact nature of their friendship. It was true that a few envious students jeered their success and popularity by calling them collectively BS, but few took notice.
It was also clear to their school principal, Mr. Chappenhare, that a unique crisis confronted him the following year. It might be well and good that Bill and Sam were co-captains of the baseball team and the debate team and that they had re-written the school's political structures to allow for their joint election as co-class presidents, but never in the history of the institution had it recognized co-valedictorians. The very nature of the term seemed contradictory. Yet, baring some unforeseen and unlikely event, the boys would graduate with identical grade point averages, and need it be added, averages which surpassed those of their nearest competitors by several points.
Mr. Chappenhare did not take this challenge lightly. He approached the school board and laid the dilemma before them. Despite his own apprehensions, the board members saw it as a very natural and agreeable prospect and made it quite clear to the foreboding principal that, given the likelihood of a tie, they would accept, even welcome a co-valedictory.
So it was that on the morning of the last day of school of their senior year that Bill found a note on his desk at the start of his first hour class. It was terse, but not alarming. Written on the note paper unique to the principal's office, it stated in simple terms that he was expected to call upon Mr. Chappenhare immediately after the end of classes that day.
At that same time, a few seats away, Sam found two notes on his desk. The first was identical to the note Bill had found. The second, however, differed. Written in a hand he knew was Bill's, should the text which followed not made that clear, it read, "In berg boser, ebe mest ta ogors mus nooners assto analbo. Nooners bossen, B."
Sam looked over at Bill and gave him a quick nod and a grin, then wadded the note and stuck it in his pocket. No one else would have understood it but they might have asked what it meant. The morning classes sped by. It was clear that the teachers as well as the students regarded these last few days of classes as a mere formality. The graduating seniors had the next week off and everyone knew their grades were already recorded. There was a relaxed and festive atmosphere all 'round.
At noon Bill made his way to the gym, then back into the locker rooms and beyond them to the little cluster of rooms where the coaches had their offices and equipment rooms. He took out the key to the baseball storage room, which as co-captain of the team, it was his right to possess. He went in and waited.
The room held the heavy sent of old leather and stale sweat. He pulled off his shirt and then sat down on a bare wooden bench and began pulling off his shoes and socks. By the time a second key turned in the door, Bill was stripped his jockey shorts and exhibiting what was, even for him, a rather prodigious boondoc logger.
Within seconds of entering the little room, which had been the location of many a meeting between the boys over the last two years, Sam had locked and barred the door and was quickly removing his clothes. Shoes and shirts went flying and in no time at all, two very berg boys were locked in each other's arms.
The words they spoke were unintelligible, even by their own standards. It had been three days since they had managed to be alone together and their teenage hormones were raging. "Ebe mest ta ogors," Bill moaned as he broke away from their deep tongued kiss and dove for Sam's cock. He yanked the other boy's briefs down to reveal a throbbing mast already more than wet with pre-cum.
"Yeaham," he whispered as he engulfed Sam's cock to the hilt, driving it deep into his own willing throat.
"Yeaham, yeaham," Sam responded. His head went back and he felt so faint that he had to brace himself by grasping his lover's broad shoulders. It was less than a minute before Bill knew his reward was at hand. Sam shuddered and shot a three-day store of hot bosser down Bill's hungry throat.
"Yeaham," Sam moaned again as his muscles convulsed with the climax. Bill stayed with him until Sam's cock had begun to soften in his mouth, then pulled off and stood to embrace the still trembling boy.
"Yeaham, bergbonbo," he whispered as his mouth closed over his lover's lips and they shared the last remnants of Sam's bosser. They stood there locked in their embrace until Sam pulled Bill down.
They sat facing one other, each straddling the bench, looking deeply and lovingly into the other's eyes. Sam smiled faintly and whispered, "mus nooners assto analbo?"
"Yeaham, bergbonbo," Bill whispered back. They stood together and unrolled the old gym mat which stood against the wall. Its gray fabric cover was torn in a dozen places and bits of its fiber filling leaked out. There were many stains, some of which they recognized as of their own making. Sam quickly positioned himself on the mat while Bill rummaged in an old discarded storage cabinet and found a jar of Vaseline which they'd left from previous analbo secessions. Sam lay on is back and watched as Bill gave his bosser a generous greasing.
"Yeaham nooger?"
"Yeaham, non," Sam replied, his voice low and full of love.
Bill knelt between Sam's outstretched legs and applied a dab of the cool lube to his willing analbo.
"Yeaham," Sam whispered, and Bill knew no more preparations were needed. They had done this enough over the last two years that either of them could take the other with only pleasure, never with any pain. As Bill moved closer, Sam's legs came up and rested on his lover's shoulders, ready to pull him into his waiting analbo, wanting him inside, knowing Bill wanted it, too.
"Yeaham," Sam whispered again as he felt the first welcome pressure. He pushed out a little as Bill pushed in, a technique they had learned early in their assto analbo days. "Yeaham," Sam whispered again as he felt the entire generous length of Bill's bosser slide into him. "Yeaham, bergbonbo, Bill," he whispered.
Bill whispered back, "yeaham, bergbonbo, Sam," and they both meant it from the bottoms of their hearts.
The rhythm had come naturally to them and now, as their bodies merged, it was as if it were a well practiced dance. Bill's thrusts were masterful, striking Sam at the right angle with each stroke. Sam moaned again but Bill lost the words. It didn't matter, they both knew the meaning of each sound.
Bill kept the pace without slacking. They both loved the slow, easy, languid times when they could linger in their love. But they both knew this was not one of those times. Now they were running against the clock. While others nourished their bodies with food, Bill and Sam knew the love they shared would more than carry them through the remaining hours before classes ended.
Their pace quickened even more and the sound of their firm muscled bodies colliding reached a peak, a crescendo, even before their passions swelled over into the climax they both sought.
"Yeaham, bergbonbo," they both whispered as their bodies convulsed.
Sam felt the impact of Bill's climax deep in his gut as his own seed shot out for a second time, forming puddles in the deep grooves of his hard belly.
"Yeaham, yeaham, Bill," he whispered in his lover's ear as they lay together for a few moments regaining their breath. Sam loved the weight of Bill's hard body resting on his after they had reached their goal.
"Yeaham, Sam," Bill answered as they both rose and cleaned themselves and each other with the towels they always remembered to leave for their next visit. They had always replaced them with clean towels from the locker room and tossed the soiled ones into the hamper as they left. But this, they realized, would be the last time this little musty room would see their lovemaking. After today they would be gone and another class of students would follow. They would pass their keys to the new captain, yes, just one guy next year, and go on their own way.
When they had dressed, Bill started to put the Vaseline jar back in the old locker, then stopped, realizing they would not be coming back to use it here again.
"Beneinbo, Sam," Bill said, holding out the little jar.
"Nobenebo," Bill smiled at Sam's reply and put the jar away as he had intended.
After class that day them met as requested in Mr. Chappenhare's office.
"You just as well know I am not comfortable with this, but the board has issued their directive and all I can do is follow it," he said after the obvious announcement had been made.
"It has been the custom here for the Valedictorian to speak for twenty minutes, but in this instance, the board has also decided to extend the time a little so that you may each have fifteen minutes, for a total of half an hour. I can only hope that it doesn't make the entire ceremony over long." His voice was a labored whine.
"I will give you a joint introduction and the order in which you speak is up to you."
"We'd sort of thought, Mr, Chappenhare, that instead of making two independent speeches we might combine the two in a sort of dialog."
"Well, I don't know if that would be at all acceptable. I would probably need to go back to the board for guidance."
"We think, Mr. Chappenhare, that if we combined the two speeches, we could shorten the total length to no more than the usual twenty minutes."
"Oh, well, in that case, in the interest of the general flow of the ceremony, I can see that it would have distinct advantages. Yes, by all means, let's think in that direction.
"You understand, of course, that it is customary for the Valedictorian to present his or her speech in written form to me and the senior class advisor by Wednesday of this week. I hope you won't feel that rushes you too much, but with the ceremony just a week away, we must have everything in place as soon as possible."
"That won't be a problem, sir. We've already written it and can leave a copy with you now if you like."
"Oh, my! Such promptness, I must say, I have never had a Valedictorian give me a finished copy this early before."
"Our pleasure, sir," Bill said as he took the neatly printed pages from his back pack.
"And I will need a little more information for my introductions, let me see...."
The flustered man rummaged through the papers on his desk and found some typed sheets which his more orderly secretary had prepared.
"Yes, of course, co-captains of the baseball and debate teams for two years, letters in both, of course, All-State in baseball, All-State in debate, co-presidents of the senior class this year and, yes, identical grade point averaged, most admirable grade point averages, I must say, yes indeed, as high as any I've seen, if not higher. I must check that. If you share a record for the highest grade point averages in the school's history, as I very much you think you may, that certainly adds a significant note to the occasion. Yes indeed."
He paused, took up a pen and asked, "now as to college plans, may I know, gentlemen, were you are bound?"
"Yes, of course. We're bound together," Sam said, and paused. The older man took it as a pause for emphasis, but Bill understood it as a statement of fact. Then after a few seconds, Sam finished by adding, "for Yale."
"My, my, my. Most impressive. Both of you. Together. Yes, indeed, most impressive. And may I ask what programs of study you intend to pursue?"
"Political Science and pre law, Mr. Chappenhare."
"Oh, yes, most impressive," he murmured as he scrawled on his sheets. "Yes, excellent. Why, my introduction almost writes itself, I must say." He smiled beatifically and added, "why, I can almost see it now. In just a few years you two will be opening a legal practice together. Yes, partners in no time."
"Actually, Mr. Chappenhare, we see ourselves as partners now," Sam smiled as he and Bill held up the text of their speech between them, each holding a corner with one hand.
"Why, yes of course you do. Excellent, excellent, may I use that in my introduction?"
"Our pleasure, Mr. Chappenhare, feel free to use it."
"Yes, I think I will, 'Present and Future Partners,' or something to that effect. Why, yes indeed, it makes the entire occasion of co-Valedictorians quite sensible, really, quite sensible indeed."
"Well, great then, Mr. Chappenhare, if there's nothing more we'll be on our way. We'll see you next Friday night."
"Yes, yes, most interesting. Off you go, I'm sure you have a dozen things to do, busy as you are, as all young people are these days."
"Yes, we have, you know, a sort of a date."
"Yes, of course, celebrating the end of school, the beginning of new things, the rewards of hard earned successes and hopes for the future, very good, young men, very good indeed. Off you go to your parties and your celebrations." He paused and then asked, "what is it this year? I know for a while it was dances and proms and then a few years ago your festivities took a less formal turn; picnics and swimming parties and such. What is the 'Rage,' this year, that is the proper term isn't it, 'Rage,' I mean?"
"In ebe mest ta ogors mus nooners assto analbo, Mr. Chappenhare," Bill said with a smile, "at least that's what Sam and I have in mind."
Chappenhare looked blank for a moment and then broke into a wide smile. "Why yes, of course you do. So scholarly, indeed. I must say, my own Latin was never very good, but I am pleased to see the old languages are still honored. Yes indeed." He smiled beatifically and sent them on their way.
"Well, yes, yes indeed, go on then, celebrate your youth, celebrate your well earned successes. I must say, partners, yes, that's the ticket, partners, indeed."