Chapter One
A/N
The first chapter had several issues, which led to a total rewrite. Many grammatical errors were corrected, and the setup between Derek and Evan has undergone a complete change. Some folks reached out via email, and my email failed, so the messages are lost - sorry!
The original note:
I'm not very practiced at writing, so I'm trying to see how it goes. This story represents just a moment in time for these two. There's a whole other story about their lives before and after this series of moments.
If there's interest, I'll continue pursuing it. But, if it's just a moment in time that you enjoy and that's it - that's ok too.
You're welcome to write to say hello or give feedback through my profile.
--
"Ya got ten minutes for showers, boys!" The coach yelled as I bolted towards the locker room.
This was the worst part of any day at Central High - a stupid, boring name for a stupid, boring school. Thankfully, I was in my final year, and I wouldn't have to endure the locker rooms for much longer.
"Fuck I hate this," I thought sourly as my heart raced.
The locker rooms were typical, I guess, stinking of body odour and socks, a weird musky smell that was not... entirely gross, only mostly.
The rooms were divided into two segments: a set of benches and lockers, the showers, and then another locker set and benches after that. I always took the furthest lockers at the back so I had time to cover up in case I heard people coming.
I had made it to my locker and quickly dropped my shorts, standing there in just my gym shirt and my underwear.
"Fucking Sean on the field today, what a total pussy!" came the loudest voice followed by gales of laughter as if it was the funniest joke ever told.
"Shit!", I thought, my arms caught up in my shirt as I frantically tried to get it down. I was distinctly aware of Jason's asshole voice, and his cronies Grant Jamie.
"Hey guys, Evan needs some help," Jason sneered, "Let's help him!"
And that's when it happened. The worst fucking thing imaginable. One moment, I was standing there in my underwear, arms flailing in my shirt, dreading what was to come; the next, my underwear was yanked down to the floor.
"Shit," I said, my voice wavering, those baseball douchebags already cracking up as I finally got my shirt sorted and I, completely flustered and not thinking, turned around.
The laughter abruptly stopped.
"Holy shit you guys," Jason started, his voice precariously balanced between mockery and incredulity, "Evan is a fucking pre-pubescent boy!".
The loud haw-hawing turned their faces red, but not as red as the blazing sun my face had become.
"He's fucking bald!" Jason roared, "Body of an eight-year-old!"
I could feel my eyes starting to burn and get wet but fucked if I'm gonna let these losers see me cry.
As I yanked up my underwear, Jason launched forward followed by a loud, "What the fuck, Jason?!"
Derek pushed through, only in his underwear as well. Derek was... big. He was a soccer player, about 6 feet tall, with thick muscles, but not in the way of a hulking bodybuilder; just rock-solid and defined. Veins were bulging now, and his neck and upper chest were red under his tightly trimmed chest hair. This is how Derek looked when he was pissed - something Evan rarely witnessed.
Derek stomped towards me, his brow furrowed. He quickly looked me up and down, a mix of anger and puzzlement warring on his face.
"Heh," Jason snorted, reaching his hand towards the small of Derek's back.
Derek whipped around and locked onto Jason's wrist, "I will fucking break your nose," he snarled. Jason winced and yanked his arm back, rubbing his wrist.
"Now we know why Evan never showers - fucking freak!" Jason said, heading back towards the from locker rooms, his dickhead friends in tow.
"You ok, Evan?" Derek asked, his voice softening for his friend, concern pushing away the last remnants of anger.
"Fuck this place, just... fuck!" My voice cracked, finalizing my total humiliation, "I gotta go."
I pulled on my clothes and left, feeling Derek's eyes on my back. "Meet me after school," Derek called - I didn't respond.
Fortunately there was only one more class after school, and I didn't share with Jason, his twats, or Derek. Our school has a no cell phone policy, so word wasn't able to spread fast enough that anyone bothered me. The one small grace the universe granted me was that it was Friday afternoon, and at least I could be done for the day and get the hell out of here.
After the final bell, I grabbed my things and headed out of the front of the school. Derek was waiting for me by the flag, as usual. His gaze was intense, but he wasn't looking at me. I couldn't tell if he was in deep thought or if something else was going on. After seeing him frown briefly, I looked behind me to see what was up.
I saw Jason and his douche brigade facing my general direction, but not moving towards me. He wiggled his pinky at me, and I wasn't sure if that was his way of calling me fag, or calling out my.. shortcomings earlier that day. I scowled and turned back towards Derek.
"Stay at my place tonight," Derek said, his tone so carefully regulated it sounded almost fake.
I only responded with a massive exhale of air - far too much anger and frustration behind it to call it a sigh. I stomped along and didn't say anything. I was moving quickly, and despite Derek's having much longer legs, he had to hustle to keep up.
"Come on, man, stay at my place tonight, we can hang out, play some vids. It'll be fun!" Derek was trying, pushing an excited, fun tone in his voice. It wasn't disingenuous, but it definitely felt somewhat forced.
I drew in a deep breath, but rather than saying anything, I just let it out slowly, it caught a bit in my throat, and I just got marching on with my head mostly down.
"We can play some Hell Divers man, I won't even give you a hard time for wearing the lightest armour and wasting your pack on a jump pack!" Derek said, genuinely grinning now.
He loved to bust my balls. I always took the lightest load out, and the jetpack for mobility. It was kinda stupid. I just liked to move fast and be nimble. It's probably why I liked track so much. I was not a sports guy, like at all. But I was hella fast, I would blast off in sprints and kick the collective asses of my teammates. My endurance wasn't the best, though, but it's something my coach was helping me with. It was the only thing I was good at, or at least that's what I thought.
I hadn't realized where I was going until I found myself standing in front of Derek's place. "Fine," I said, sounding more curt than I meant to.
Derek's room was a garage conversion. His brother, Keith, was living at home while attending community college to study biology. His parents did ok, but not ok enough to send him to a real university. Keith had the room in the main house.
It was a pretty cool spot. Derek had a couch, a TV, his bed, and a makeshift kitchenette - just a sink with a hotplate and microwave. He also had a basic weight set, consisting of a bench and some dumbbells. For an 18 year old, it was a fucking dream. It was probably the largest "room" in the house, and it was detached. There was no washroom, so he still had to go to the house for showers, and that was such, but it was private.
As the night wore on, I felt myself start to relax. I was way more tired than I expected; the stress of the day just took it out of me, I guess. Derek had been so laid back throughout the whole evening. He's got this weird energy for someone our age, just totally not bothered. Derek is just so at ease, so comfortable with himself as if he didn't give a fuck about anything and nothing world bother him. That's why seeing him so mad today and hearing him swear (unlike me, he never swore) was so crazy. I, on the other hand, was a bundle of nerves. If I didn't run as much as I did, I'd probably explode. Parents tried to put me on Ritalin, but I don't think I have ADHD, I'm just... over energized. At least, that's what I tell myself.
It was late, coming up on one in the morning now. I put the controller down as we extracted, after which Derek shut down the PS5.
"I'm wiped," Derek said, "I gotta go to sleep." He pulled his shirt off and crawled into his bed. Derek had scored when his parents replaced their old bed, so he landed a king-size bed of his own.
"Your parents fucked on this bed," I said, "You know that right?" He couldn't see my grin in the darkness, but he sure could hear it. I loved giving him shit about this, it never got old.
"Shut up!" He laughed in response. I laughed too, not only my first smile today, but my first laugh as well.
I pulled off my shirt and got into bed as well. I guess 18 is kinda old for a sleepover? I don't know, but we've been friends our whole lives, always slept in the same bed, so we didn't think much about it. Where else was I going to sleep? Not on the couch, that's for sure.
We lay in the darkness a while, the neighbourhood quiet. A lonely streetlamp provided the barest brush of soft light in the room.
I could feel the heat rolling off Derek in waves as I looked over at him. "I ran hot", is what he'd say. He was so different than me, sometimes it messed me up. I couldn't help but run my eyes over his body as he lay on his back, his arm casually draped over his face.
He was in fantastic shape. Not only was he a hardcore soccer player, but he got everything he could out of that budget weight set. He had really defined arms; it actually surprised me the odd times I saw him flex, as big, round baseballs would appear as biceps, and his triceps were thick and defined. He had full-on pecs, with a light dusting of hair that he obviously kept trim in the middle. His stomach was flat and looked hard, but he didn't have a six pack, probably the only thing I had over him.
He had a treasure trail that ran from his belly button and disappeared into the light boxers he was wearing. I quickly ran my eyes over those, too. Probably everyone steals a glance now and again, and I had known him for so long I've managed a few. I've never seen him in the buff, and before today, he hadn't ever seen me either. But when my eyes went over that bulge... I don't know. Something wasn't right there. It was just, well, there was just a lot going on. I don't know if he was just huge; for a long time, I figured he was stuffing. It just didn't add up. He was just so unbothered by everything, I couldn't imagine him doing something like that.
I sighed softly and stared up at the ceiling.
"What?" Derek said, no hint of exasperation or frustration in his voice.
"Today was fucked up," I finally said. I could feel my heart begin to race, "It was really fucked up man". I was upset and trying not to show it. I'm glad it was dark - I could see him turn his head toward me, his eyes shimmering in the dark. If I start to cry, I'm going to fucking run into traffic.
"What happened?" he said, floundering a little.
"I mean...uhhhh," Derek was struggling.
"It's hypotrichosis," I responded, my voice steadier than I thought it would be. At least that's something. "I was born with it."
