Story Notes:Written circa 2003. Edited in 2009.
Rowen was on the telephone, arguing with his father about college when Sage walked into the kitchen and deftly ignored him, focusing on filching a Heine from the fridge rather than his comrade’s frustrated voice. Mission successful, he put the neck of the bottle in his mouth, twisted, and spat the bottle cap into the garbage, now interested in eavesdropping on Rowen.
“Pops, ya know what ya are? Yer a control freak! Look, where I wanna go ta college is my . . . I don’t care if yer payin’! I’ll go where I damn please!” Pause. “Pops, ya know ya cuss like a sailor, too, so don’t be trashin’ my ass about it.” Pause. Then Rowen began to scream at the phone. Sage smiled.
“Oh, yeah!? I bend myself ovah BACKWARDS ta accommodate yer manic, unpredictable bouts a’ compulsive, thoughtless actions!”
Sage whistled softly in appreciation. “That was a mouthful,” he muttered under his breath, and took a chug from his beer.
“And I don’t give a FUCK what ya think! I’m mothah fuckin’ EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD, POPS, AN’ I CAN SURVIVE WITHOUT YOU TO-” He stopped suddenly. “Hello. Hello! . . . GOD DAMN IT!”
Sage tried to stifle his laughter as he watched Rowen turn around and repeatedly slam the phone into the kitchen counter. When he was sure it was broken beyond repair, Rowen turned around and noticed Sage standing there nonchalantly with a grin on his face.
Rowen said calmly, “Hi.”
“Hi,” Sage replied, and sipped his Heineken. Rowen looked quite frazzled and stressed out. His hair was a mess. Sage set down his beverage and said, “Do you really bend over backwards for your dad?”
Rowen made a sarcastic face, thinking he was being perverted again.
“No, I’m serious. Maybe I didn’t say it right.” Sage tried again. “Can you really bend over backwards?”
Rowen shrugged. “I’m a Ronin Warriah. I guess. I jest neva tried.”
“You’re too tall,” Sage said matter-of-factly. “You can’t do it.”
Rowen was stunned. “I can so!”
Sage smirked, knowing that nothing would stop Rowen now. “Show me, then,” he dared.
“Alright,” the azure-haired lad agreed. “Let’s go out inta the livin’ room.”
The two young men stepped out, and Rowen selected a large, open spot on the floor. He stood, staring quizzically. “Now . . . how do I start out?”
“Maybe try lying on the floor,” Sage suggested.
“Oh. Yeah. I knew that.”
Rowen laid down on the open floor and Sage gulped down the laughter he feared would burst out of his mouth.
“Now stretch your arms above your head,” he instructed. Rowen did so, his rather short shirt hiking up his chest and showing a little midriff. “No, no. Palms down. Yeah. Now bend your knees.”
Damn. Something about Rowen lying on the floor with his knees up and hands over his head just made Sage stare like a vulture.
“Okay. Now what?” Rowen asked.
“Just push yourself up slowly and gently.”
[Author’s Note: I took a break and tried this. It’s hard, but not if you’re a ho.]
With a grunt, Rowen inched himself off the floor as Sage watched, smiling coyly. His arms shook at first, but he finally steadied himself, unfolding his legs and letting his head flop back. In seconds, he was perfectly bent over backwards.
“I did it, Sage!” he cried. “I’m doin’ it! I can bend ovah backwards!”
“You most certainly can,” Sage murmured, stepping toward Rowen, who suddenly found with a feeling of immense horror . . . that he could not get down.
“Sage! I can’t get down! Tell me how!”
“Oh. You know what? I forgot.”
“SAAAAGE!” Rowen roared. “Den get Ryo or somebody!”
“Can’t. Everyone’s in town.”
Rowen gritted his teeth. “DEN CALL DA FIE-AH DAPARTMENT! 911! ANYBODY!”
Sage chuckled and kneeled down beside Rowen. “Oh, but it’s so much fun to see you like this.”
Rowen blinked and stared at the blond’s smile. “Wh-what?”
Sage quickly ripped up Rowen’s shirt, exposing his muscular midsection, and buried his face onto it, blowing as hard as he could. The infamous raspberry. Rowen squealed and started howling with laughter.
“AH, GOD! STOP, PLEASE! I’M REALLY TICKLISH- AHHH! GODDAMMIT, MUDDAH FUCKAH-!”
It’s hard to take someone’s swearing seriously when they’re doing it between gasps of laughter and guffaws and snorts. Sage was merciless, sucking in breaths and blowing them out as hard as he could onto Rowen’s tummy. Tears were running down (or up, rather) his red face when his arms finally gave out, and his upper body slammed down onto the floor, leaving his legs bent awkwardly backwards and spread wide.
“Aw, shit,” Rowen groaned. “I’m stuck again. I can’t move. I think I broke my back.”
“You didn’t break anything,” Sage said, crawling on his knees before Rowen’s open legs. He placed his hands on Rowen’s knees and gazed at him sneakily. Rowen paled and his eyes went wide.
“Sage, whadda ya doin’? Are ya gonna help me up or what?”
The blond laughed wickedly and crawled forward, placing his body between Rowen’s legs and his hands on the floor alongside Rowen’s waist. “Help you?” Sage cackled. “Not before I help myself!”
And he reached up under Rowen’s shirt and grabbed a hold of his nipples, giving them a painful tweak.
“Titty Twister!” Sage cried.
Rowen was about to kill Sage via very powerful telepathy when Sage lowered his head and began to blow raspberries onto his stomach again. Then he was laughing and cussing and cursing and howling and gasping till he was out of breath. He bucked his hips, trying to get Sage off of him, but the blond was like a leech. And still twisting his now sore and tender pink nipples. Strangely, Rowen found the pain kind of titillating, no pun intended. He almost didn’t want Sage to stop, but everything came to a grinding halt when Ryo, Kento and Cye walked in and saw the rather . . . questionable act taking place on the living room rug.
Sage shot up and stared like the guilty child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. With crumbs on his lips. And the other hand in daddy’s pornzine stash. It certainly looked objectionable to see Rowen lying passive and bent on the floor like some cheap hooker, wailing and screaming and thrusting forward to rid the blond from on top of him.
“What . . .” Ryo started. “Do I even wanna know what the hell is going on?”
Sage smiled. “He was bending over backwards for me.”
Cye, ever proper and refined, put a hand over his mouth and muttered, “Bleedin’ Christ.”
Kento jumped in. “What were ya doing to poor Rowen!?”
Sage looked down at the blue-haired lad as if seeing him for the first time. It looked like he would be saying, now how did I get between this boy’s legs? But instead he opted for a more puzzling reply.
“His name’s not Rowen,” Sage said definitely.
Ryo crossed his arms. “Oh, really? Then what is his name?”
“Ben.” Sage beamed. “Ben Dover!”