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A story of two guys hanging out. |
“But Mom, I didn’t want to move! Why do I have to go to a different school?” I asked my mother as she pulled up next to the sidewalk to park. It was a hot September morning, the start of the new school year but it was not the school I chose or wanted to go to. My mother looked at me with the rear mirror and sighed in that way mother’s do when they are about to explain something to a kid without raising their voice. “Sweetie its complicated. Your father couldn’t find any work back home, and when he got a job offer, he had to move.” “But why did we have to move with him?” My mother chuckled “You wouldn’t want your father to go to a strange new place by himself, would you?” I could not find a reasonable answer to that, so I crossed my arms and pouted as I looked out my window. Far to the right, across a large field was a long two story building shaped like an L that was going to be the elementary school for the foreseeable future and filled with kids I didn’t know or grow up with. A rather extensive playground with swings, jungle gyms etc. was located to the far north of the building. “Arian…” She spoke, sullen but patient. “I’m not going to tell you to think this as some great adventure.” I didn’t look at her, but I inclined my head to show that I was listening. “I know that this isn’t what you wanted. To be so far away from the friends you tried so hard to make, to see your life upturned in an instant but life can be weird like that. No one ever expects it to happen to them, but it does, and it’s up to you to make of it what you can. Can you do that for me sweetie?” I tried to stay angry, I really did but mother had a point as she always did so I sighed and nodded my head. “Good boy. Now hurry along now you’ll miss the bell and who knows this might be a blessing in disguise.” Reluctantly, I grabbed my little All Thattm backpack and stepped out of the car, my dark skin feeling the sting of the midwestern heat. As I entered the school after a long walk over the field, I already noticed the differences between this school and my last one. Far fewer minorities graced these halls which meant fewer fights but potentially more bullshit later down the road. At least it wasn’t one of those schools where they introduced the new student in front of everyone. Now I wasn’t a shy kid, but I don’t know anybody here and as a kid let me tell you that kids can be vicious. As it was, I just entered my assigned classroom without any preamble or fanfare. Everyone was busy talking to their friends and playing as kids do as the teacher patiently tried to corral them together. Except for one kid in the back that was sitting next to the only seat that wasn’t taken yet. He was of mixed Asian/Oceania descent, his skin was a deep tanned brown marking him and me as the only minorities in the class. He wore a black hoodie and long baggy pants despite the heat which I marked as weird, but I shrugged it off. He sat quietly, just watching the rest of the kids play but as his eyes met mine, he flinched and looked away. ‘Bit of a weirdo’, I thought though I couldn’t judge him too harshly. I might and probably would have done the same thing in his position. I sat in the seat next to him as the teacher finally got everyone to quiet down. He fidgeted and I got the impression that if he were a turtle, he would have pulled himself inside his shell. I internally shrugged it off and focused on what the teacher was saying. The rest of the day carried along like normal for the most part, the teacher explaining the same basic level education my last school taught. Except they failed to make it interesting, so when it was finally time for gym/lunch I was excited to finally play. Our teacher led us outside to the playground I had seen earlier this morning and all the pent-up energy we had simply exploded out of us. Kids were jumping, cartwheeling and running to the swings like they were going out of style. “Tag your it!” a girl said, tapping me on the shoulder and just like that an impromptu game of tag had started, and everyone who wasn’t busy doing something else rushed away from me. Kids can also be surprisingly inclusive when it comes to having fun. ‘Fools.’, I thought, smirking. I couldn’t fault them for not knowing but I was damn good at this game. Took me all of five minutes to catch everyone and someone else was chosen to be “it”, at which point it was decided out of nowhere that we were going to play hide and go seek. I was trying to find some place to hide when I noticed that kid from before. He was just sitting in the grass, doing nothing. How introverted can you be?! Looking back, I can’t truly explain where I conjured up enough misplaced rage to go rant at him. I had strong opinions when it came to gym class/lunch but I had seen others sitting on the sidelines at my old school and I shrugged it off. But something about him just sitting there just kinda pissed me off so conjure it up I did. “Hey!!” I yelled at him, childish rage coursing through my veins. He flinched and turned his eyes toward me. He was still wearing the black hoodie along with the similarly colored baggy pants despite it being nearly 80 degrees in early September which somehow only made me madder. “Why are you just sitting there? Come on let’s go!!” I said, indignantly grabbing his arm and dragging him towards some place where we could hide. Then I stopped and remembered my manners. “Um… what’s your name?” “…A-Akira.” He slowly said, his voice the same childish tenor as me if a tad more girly. “What?” “Akira. That’s my name” he repeated, unable to look me in the eye. I smiled and reached out with my hand. “Hello, my name is Arian.” He looked at my hand for a bit, before slowly lifted his hand to grab it but never got the chance to as I just put my arm around his shoulders and gave him a noggin. “You and I are going to be the best of friends just you see. Like Tom and Jerry.” I exclaimed the childish rage that started the encounter forgotten as is the way of children. “…D-Doesn’t Tom chase and try to eat Jerry all the time” I gave him a look. “Oh…He does?” And for the first time since I met him, he chuckled. A weak chuckle but a chuckle, nonetheless. And just like that we became the best of friends. Yeah, it sounds weird saying it much less remembering it but that’s how it went down. Every time lunch came, I would stubbornly drag him from the sidelines and make him play with the others all the time, and for his part he slowly began to open up more. He began to talk more and sometimes I didn’t have to drag him to go play with me. When school was over, we would go to the playground and play with the other kids while we waited for my mother to come pick me up. And just like that, the years slowly passed, and we both entered high school. I was pleased to find that my childish tenor had begun to deepen into a baritone as I grew to stand at 6 feet. I joined many of the sports teams before I found my calling as a lacrosse player. Due to my active lifestyle, my already dark skin got even darker, and my body bristled with muscles though I always felt small compared to some of the jocks. As for my face, I was considered handsome I am told but that’s what all parents tell their children. My dick was also reasonably big, but I didn’t think much of it as I was more focused on getting a scholarship than I was getting laid if you can believe it. As for Akira, puberty was not kind to him though some would disagree. Akira was always a little bit more feminine than most boys our age but as the years passed it just became more obvious. His hips became wider than his shoulders, his ass became a dump truck, and his face just got softer and softer. He looked as masculine as any tomboy, and even that was a bit of an understatement. It would not be an exaggeration to say that he was prettier than most girls at school and the girls hated him for it. He let his hair grow out into a long ponytail that flowed over his shoulders, though I don’t think he had a choice. His hair grew too quickly. “I don’t have a Y Chromosome” Akira told me matter-of-factly when I finally brought up his unwanted femininity during summer vacation. His voice had changed as well, settling into a feminine alto that could arguably be considered male from a distance. “What?” I asked confused. We were at my house, sitting on the couch playing Mario Kart 6 in my room. Yeah, I managed to convince him to come to my house in the intervening years but only if my mother and sister were out. He never explained and I never delved. I hate myself for that but it what it is. “I mean I do, but…ugh it’s a little complicated. You remember what Mr. Steiner taught us in class last semester?” “You mean that lecture about Chromosomes?” “Yeah. Guys have one X and one Y chromosome, and girls have two X chromosomes.” “So, you’re saying you’re a girl?” I teased with a smile. “Shut up!” He pouted, punching me in the shoulder. While Akira had gotten way more feminine than he would have liked, he had still managed to acquire some feminine beef on his body. Enough to make that punch hurt, a lot. I hid my wince with a chuckle as Akira continued his explanation. “It’s a bit more complicated than that. The part of the Y chromosome that makes a dude…a dude got mixed with my X chromosome.” “So, what you just have the one X chromosome?” “No, I have two.” “What?” I said, dumbfounded. “Ugh, it’s complicated man, I don’t really understand it myself. That’s just what the doctor told me. All you need to know is that I look like a girl because I have two X’s and no Y.” “And yet your somehow still taller than me.” I said, with no small amount of jealousy. Despite the genetic lottery rolling him a one in masculinity, he managed to roll a ten in height. He smirked at me. “6 foot 3 inches and still growing.” I grunted. “Don’t rub it in.” Akira had grown far more social and “sassy” over the years, a far cry from what he was when we were still children. Though he was still more comfortable with me than anyone else. “It’s still growing too.” “What’s still growing.” I asked absentmindedly, my mind already going back to the game. “The weapon.” He said smiling as he patted his groin. “Ah.” I said, pausing the game, I glanced at his groin. Akira is probably the most feminine dude I will ever have the honor of being friends with. Virtually indistinguishable from a girl, the man doesn’t even have chest hair or really any hair at all on his body. And it’s all natural. There are some trans people who would kill to be Akira. But the one part of his body that was not feminine was his dick. To go back to the genetic lottery analogy, in defiance of his own genetics, reality, and common-sense Akira had managed to win the Jackpot. No, the Jackpot of Jackpots. Akira’s cock was a thick beast that snaked its way halfway down his left leg, going down his thick thighs then up and over to disappear on the other side where it no doubt continued almost to his knees. And that’s when it’s completely flaccid. His balls were melons, plain and simple. Big honeydew melons stuffed sideways up, as much can be, down his right pants leg but still crowded his groin so much he had to open his legs wide to let them rest their weight on the couch. Akira’s cock wasn’t a cock. It was a weapon. “Dare I ask?” “Three inches.” He said proudly. I let out some air as I shook my head, incredulous, but I raised my fist to let him pound it. Got to give respect where respect is due. Feminine appearance notwithstanding, Akira’s a dude through and through and all dudes place a lot of self-confidence in the size of their dicks, for good or for ill. By all rights Akira should have ended up with a micro dick and deformed infertile testes. Akira…doesn’t really like how he looks so I can’t fault for him being proud of the one thing that proves his masculinity. “Can you even get hard?” I asked for the 50th time, already knowing the answer. “Yep!” He said with a smile, and I believed him. I first discovered the weapon (Yes from now on I’m going to call Akira’s cock the weapon. Deal with it.) when I convinced him to secretly watch a porno with me back when we were still kids. It shot out of his baggy pants like an IED. The weapon was more dick than balls back then and both were smaller but even then, it was as thick as a bottle and reached up to his chest. Back then Akira was incredibly embarrassed about it hence why he wore baggy pants. But when I showed that I wouldn’t stop being his friend because his dick was big, he stopped being embarrassed about it at least around me. Akira still wears baggy pants though. Well, I mean, not the baggy pants he’s wearing right now. Those are his casual baggy pants he wears when he’s around me. Akira wears military grade baggy pants so he can hide the weapon when he goes to school. Wearing anything else would-be grounds for jail time for carrying a weapon. Also, for immodesty. “You sure you’re not infertile?” Another question I asked 50 times and already know the answer too. “Dude, there is nothing but prime grade baby batter in these things.” Akira said patting his top nut. “I could impregnate a sterile woman.” “Pretty sure that’s impossible.” “Life will find a way.” Akira said, doing his best Jeff Goldblum impression. Which was bad cause you know…female voice but I’ll give him an A for effort. But he’s not exaggerating, at least not by much. Those melons he has for balls make so much ammo for the weapon they fucking vibrate or at least so I’m told. One doesn’t touch another man’s balls, not even by accident. “You ever go empty?” Another question I knew the answer too, but this one finally smacked that smug grin off his face. “Ugh, no.” Akira replied, rubbing his top nut again as he was reminded that right now, he had the bluest of balls. Like I said before, his balls make so much SS tier ammo he will never run out. The con to that is that he will never run out of ammo, ever. To prove his point, Akira once brought an industrial garbage bag with him, went into the bathroom for a bit, then came back with a very full industrial garbage bag filled to the brim with “ammo”. His balls were the same size, before and after. “You sure your human?” I asked, a question I had not asked before. He thought about it for a bit. “Yes?” “I hear a question mark.” “I mean, my dick is not built the same way as everyone else’s.” “Oh?” I said, listening closely. Akira only calls the weapon a dick when he’s Real Talking. “Yeah, the doctors say the muscle fibers in my dick are built in such a way that I need significantly less blood for it to function. Its why I can get hard. And they outright can’t explain where I get the energy to make so much sperm or the minerals and water to make the semen.” “Oh wow, I never thought about it that way.” I said truthfully. I was no idiot, as my grades can attest, but I didn’t put much thought into how dicks work. It’s just not that high on things any teenager would think about. “God I’m such a freak.” Akira said sullenly. I stayed silent for a bit. Akira gets like this sometimes and I know better than to try understanding what he’s going through. Even after years of friendship he keeps things close to the chest. Best thing to do is to take his mind off of it. “So…did you do the homework yet.” I asked quietly. His head shot up like bolt and he looked at me with wide eyes. “Homework?!” “Yeah man, they assigned homework over the summer.” “Fuck!” “Relax man, you still got a few more weeks’ of vacation left to get it done. Don’t worry I’ll help you out.” Akira gave me a look. “Are you flexing your grades on me?” “Yes, yes I am” Last semester, Akira didn’t do too hot in math and English. “Is this payback for me flexing on you with the weapon.” “Yes.” He gave me another look, before shrugging. “Touche.” “Before we work on your homework though want to play some Smash Bros?” “Fine, but you can’t play Metaknight” “Only as long as you don’t play Peach.” “Urg, fine.” Disclaimer, he still thrashed me but I least I had a chance. |