The Rut

3. PICNIC AT HANGING JOCK

“Bro, help me shave my head,” Chad asked Jamie across the breakfast table.

“Yeah, go shear your boyfriend,” laughed Abe, smearing jam on his fourth biscuit.

“Right dude, like we haven’t all busted a load in your fat ass,” sneered Chad.

“Yeah man,” said Abe, “but that’s The Rut. That’s just boning, not loooove.”

“Fuck off,” replied Chad, rolling his eyes. “My boy here is the only one in the house who can trim a brother’s hair. That’s all.”

“Have we had enough of your shenanigans?” asked Ms. Venable, entering the kitchen to take her place at the head of the table. She had never joined the boys for breakfast, though this was not something they thought about. “I wish to inform you that two young — gentlemen, dare I hope? — will be joining the Venable Home this afternoon.”

“Gentlemen?” asked Stu, holding up a pinky finger as if he were a fop.

Ms. Venable silenced the Stag Buck with a withering glare

“Joining your number,” she continued, “there will be a Forrest, recently of Georgia, and a Dean, on leave from the United States Navy.”

“Navy?” asked Abe, laying hands on either side of his twin-laden belly, “Swear to god, my brovaries just popped.”

Stu curled up with laughter, repeating “Brovaries!”

Ms. Venable spun to direct all her ire at the Stag Buck who always rubbed some sort spot in her psyche like no other, “Had you paid attention in our health and wellness class, Stuart, you would know there are no ovaries involved for any of you, nor ‘brovaries’ or whatever vulgarities you choose to use. In the Rut, males in season…”

“But Ms. V,” interrupted Stu, “I don’t have to learn things ‘cause I’m just a bodybuilder.”

The other boys laughed, Joey the hardest. 
He had long observed that the Stag Buck’s pheromones that played havoc on the rest of the house were made tolerable only by Stu’s puppy dog nature and their regular methods to blow off steam. But just then he couldn’t help but admire the Stag Buck for knowing just what he wanted out of life — breeding and bodybuilding — and his tenacity in pursuing those desires. Joey’s laughter ebbed as he thought of how the Stag, Brodie, had come to claim Lane and their fawn.

He couldn’t know that at the same moment Jamie was pondering the same event. It was an unusual thing for Stag paternity to be known at all, much less for pair bonds to form or last. Those that did could only be expected to endure only a few short weeks or even days after the birth, when the urge to breed again with others became overwhelming. Experts said all Rut attachments were purely sexual attraction and not emotional, Jamie reminded himself as he let his eyes linger on Chad’s handsome face. 

Later that morning, Chad leaned his head over the bathroom sink while Jamie neatly trimmed the black hair on the back of his head with electric clippers. Chad didn’t expect any of the staff at the Venable Home to know how to cut his hair, or any of the white boys in residence either, but there were no black barber shops in the small town of Cody. Chad opted for regular buzz cuts with the clippers on the shortest setting; keeping his hair a uniform close-cropped length seemed the best option, under the circumstances.

“You getting it like I showed you?” asked Chad, wishing he could just do the whole thing himself.

“Yeah,” replied Jamie, “it’s not hard.”

What was hard was Jamie’s cock, resting against the snug running shorts covering Chad’s muscular ass. Of course Jamie couldn’t see it, obscured by his own baby bump, but he could feel it with mind-numbing sensitivity. What he could see were the powerful muscles in Chad’s shoulders and back, and the tiny coils of hair that fell from the clippers as he ran them over Chad’s scalp. He didn’t know why, but the entire act made his balls churn — the buzz of the clippers, the dividing of Chad’s hair from his head like wool from a spring lamb, the scratchy feel of Chad’s scalp as Jamie ran his hand over it.

“God, I wanna fuck you,” muttered Jamie.

“Shhhhh,” said Chad, turning to face his secret lover. “They already think something’s up with us. You heard Abe.”

Jamie ran his hands over Chad’s muscled chest and shoulders. “I don’t even care,” he said, intoxicated by the tightly curled hair on his chest, the same swollen pecs common to all pregnant bucks, which made his nipples peak, practically begging to be sucked on,.

Chad lifted Jamie’s face by the chin, and plunged his tongue into the young gymnast’s eager mouth. Chad’s tongue was thick and strong and knew every part of Jamie’s mouth.

Their cocks pulsed against each other and Jamie groaned, slow-humping Chad’s pelvis.

Chad pulled his head back and said, “Just play it cool, man. We’ll find a time.”

Jamie pulled away enough to restrain himself. “You still got a girl back home?” he asked, feeling envious of her even in the hypothetical.

“A few,” said Chad. “I kind of played the field, y’know?”

“I have one,” said Jamie. “Real sweet. Said she’d wait for me. I don’t know how to tell her it’s off.”

“Bro, don’t tell her anything. Not a thing! This is just the Rut. It’s not about you and me. You pop that baby, probably a few months out and you’ll be there on your knees begging her to take you back.”

“Only one I want to be on my knees for is you.”

“Fuck man, Jamie, I see you horndogging for every Stag and Buck. Man, I do too.”

“But you’re the only one that matters,” said Jamie, running his fingertips over Chad’s thick pecs.

“Shhhhh, fuck bro, keep that shit quiet.”

“I will, if you’ll do one thing,” whispered Jamie. “Get in me.”

“Fuuuuck,” sighed Chad, knowing he wanted it as bad as Jamie.

He spun the gymnast around, bending him over the sink, and pulled down both their shorts. They were both secreting their own lubricant. Not as much as they would in the presence of a Stag, but plenty enough to make this easy and fast. Chad reached back to scoop some from his own rear and mixed it in his hand with Jamie’s, sliming his cock and pressing it to Jamie’s hole.

“Fuck, that’s both our lube,” Jamie whispered, turned on combining what they each made. “Or lubes… heh.”

Chad pushed the head against the soft pink ring of Jamie’s engorged sphincter with steady pressure. As he pressed inside the pink hole, he wrapped a hand over Jamie’s mouth, knowing how loud he could be. It seemed he filled Jamie up more completely every time, as Jamie’s growing pregnancy compressed everything inside him, shrinking every cavity to make for a tighter fuck.

“Mother FUCK,” groaned Chad, getting a good strong stroke going that Jamie matched thrust for thrust. Did any girl ever want his cock so much or take it so good as Jamie or any Buck, back in the days before the Rut?

Chad slid almost all the way out, with just the head of his cock resting in the quivering wet of Jamie’s hole, and then plunged back in deep. He did this again and again, until he felt Jamie’s hot breath hot on the palm of his hand quicken, and Jamie’s hole sucked him in hard.

“Make a baby in me,” moaned Jamie, his words muffled in Chad’s hand, his rectum opening yet deeper and spasming around Chad’s thick meat as he beat the cum out of his dick onto the floor below.

Chad was already close, but the idea of knocking up his smaller bro, impossible as it was, triggered a heaving orgasm in Chad. His hand cupped Jamie’s belly, and he imagined his cock pumping it full of his babies.

“FUUUUUUCK,” Chad swore, thrusting into Jamie, unable to moderate his volume.

He let his cock rest in Jamie’s sweet hole as he drained out, almost the way a Stag would, slowly and completely. After he slid out, Jamie turned to face him again, his boyish smile brighter than it had been for days. They kissed, standing amidst spilled semen and tiny coils of hair on the tiled floor, enjoying the relative silence. Their private moments would be harder to come by with two new boys joining the house.

***

It was not typical for the Venable Home to have a boy from the military. The Rut, when it came, favored young fit men, and certainly the military was hit with a rash of pregnancies when it happened. But while the Rut did not discriminate by economic class, the Venable Home did. It was the rare family with a child in a branch of the military who could afford Venable rates. More often, those boys had a temporary discharge, going home to their families for birth and adoption through a public agency. The most unfortunate were relegated to military gestation and birth centers, until their season passed.

“Military-grade beef, “ Abe growled when Dean arrived at the home. His belly barely showed his pregnancy, but his pecs were promisingly high on his chest.

“Navy,” said Dean, looking like a military recruitment campaign ad, with his high and tight haircut, blue eyes framed by thick dark lashes, and his dimpled chin. He wasn’t nearly as big as Abe or even Joey, but still athletic with a tight toned body. He rested a hand on his nearly flat belly. “They test us all regular. Get you out as soon as you’re knocked up whether you show or not.”

Arriving behind Dean in the same shuttle was the less crisp Forrest. Unlike Dean, whose pregnancy was barely visible, Forrest’s round belly was as thick as his Southern drawl when he said, “Hey y’all.”

“Check it out,” Joey said, needling Abe while pointing out Forrest’s ample rear. “This one’s got triplets – one in the gut and two in the trunk.”

Stu giggled even harder than usual at the idea of Forrest carrying a baby in each of his plump ass cheeks.

“Damn,” said Abe, bending over to take in the sight of Forrest’s rear. It wasn’t muscled like Abe’s own hind end, but was just as ample, round as a pregnant belly. He ran a hand over one cheek and cupped it like he would a football. “That must’ve been some hung Stag to breed through all that. Bet I could’ve done it.”

“In your dreams, bro,” laughed Joey, rolling his eyes at Abe and how he was still angling to be a Stag even with his Buck belly full of twins. 

“So what do we do around here?” asked Dean, bouncing on his toes with a spirited energy that made Stu seem sluggish.

Ms. Venable observed that Dean was already jittering, tapping his fingers against her furniture, his eyes darting around with every new stimulation. He was so early he didn’t even show, to her eyes, meaning he’d be a hazard to her property and the good order she strove to keep for a near full gestation. She sighed. Between the Stag Buck, the man-mountain carrying twins and this hyperactive menace, this year would continue to be a trial. 

She felt wistful for earlier years in the Home, when it all seemed simpler. Women were unaffected by Rut pheromones, but an inexperienced girl, one with a foolish and tender heart,  could still be swayed by a handsome face and youthful delusions. She recalled Patrick, a Stag Buck in her first year at the Home. He had golden ringlets, and a face like a Botticelli angel.

“May I suggest a hike?” she asked the boys in a way that was not a question at all. She imagined blissful hours of a silent Home, and worn boys in the evening, physical exhaustion being a great preventative against mischief.

“Aright!” shouted Dean, as Forest slumped into a chair. “Where do we hike?”

The Venable estate occupied a much more expansive area of Cody than was plain to the eye. It covered several miles, a precaution taken in its founding to ensure maximum privacy for its residents in confinement. To the south was a mountainous area considered a geological marvel for its magnetic properties, and an idyllic quarry for swimming. The formation was known simply as The Rock, and although not large, it was a labyrinth of nooks and trails that could take hours to wander through. 

Ms. Venable reminded the boys that The Rock could be dangerous, and that its magnetic properties had been known to interfere with phone reception. They were therefore forbidden any foolishness in the matter of exploration, except on the lowest slopes. Any mishaps would result in prohibition of future hikes, she added most emphatically.

The boys made their hike at midday, in the July heat. The sun shone overhead and The Rock baked. None would admit it, but their pregnant bellies made it more of a haul than they expected. Still, walking the trail afforded them good lingering looks at each other’s strong calves and thighs and muscled asses, and the rising temperature drew the Buck scent out of their armpits.

They reached the end of the open area, at a point where the rest of the hike would take them into The Rock itself. Several routes presented themselves, each through slits in the rock leading into echoing caverns, each nearly identical to the other.

Dean’s eyes darted between the paths. Without a heavy belly like the others he’d been in the lead since they began the hike. He picked one path and ran into it, his hands tracing the stone walls on either side.

Joey called after him to slow down, and shook his head when Dean moved on ahead anyway.

“He’s like a dog,” muttered Chad, supporting his pregnant belly with both hands.

“We should leave a marker,” Joey replied. “The range isn’t very big, but it’s twisty and everything looks the same.”

He found a long stick nearly his own height and wedged it into a small crevice, then shoved it n hard to lodge it. He pushed and pulled against it to ascertain it would stay put.

“Not bad,” said Chad, “but could be better. We need a flag.” 

Chad fished through the picnic bag Mrs. Crist had prepared for a napkin or hand towel. 

The muscles of Stu’s body tremored as he broke into a giggle over a solution of his own invention. “I know,” said the Stag Buck.

He tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his running shorts and slid them down over his heavy bulge and firm ass. He then did the same with the white jockstrap beneath, sized to his Stag genitals. As his prodigious meat swung free, he took the jockstrap and wrapped the elastic waist around the end of the stick, the pouch catching the breeze, making an unmistakable marker of their presence.

“Genius,” said Joey, admiring the Stag Buck’s ingenuity. 

The boys followed suit, stripped from the waist down and leaving their jocks and briefs around the stick, which Jamie dubbed Hanging Jock. 

“Way to go bro,” Chad said, clapping Stu’s shoulder, and the others all nodded. Forrest nearly drooled at the sight of Stu’s fat baby-making cock swinging free.

They entered The Rock, following Dean into a slim cavity, open only to the sky overhead. As they made their way through in silence, Jamie pulled a flute from his bag. He smacked his lips and put them to the instrument, and the clear sound he made wafted through the twisting stone corridor.

As he played he watched the muscles in Chad’s legs and shoulders smoothly work, and how his strong arms reached out to brace himself between the stone walls. He silently wished the Rut would let Chad put a baby in him. He knew that when he gave birth to the fawn already in him he might stay in season for another breeding, or as mysteriously his season might simply end. He knew also Chad was only a Buck like him, and couldn’t make a baby in another Buck. Only a Stag could do that. But still, he longed for his bro’s seed growing in him.

At several points the path within The Rock narrowed, and all the boys other than Dean had to navigate the chasms carefully, contorting their bodies to wedge their broad shoulders and rounded bellies through. Making matters more difficult, their sweat released pheromone scents filled The Rock with a heady odor that teased their erections. 

Dean was far ahead, and Forrest wandered into a side trail he thought might be a shortcut.

“Those assholes are gonna get lost,” fumed Chad, and Jamie concurred.

“FORREST!” yelled Joey. “DEAN!!!! Goddammit.”

They followed the echoing sound of Dean’s running deeper into The Rock, where the stone walls grew higher and the passages more narrow, with only a narrow slit open to the sky above. There the trace of Dean grew more faint, and with no more clue of his trail the boys proceeded, with no sound but their steps, heavier breathing and the eerie lilts of Jamie’s flute.

The procession stopped when they heard Dean yell “QUARRY!” in an excited voice that boomed through the twisting maze of The Rock, bouncing off the stone in every direction. A minute later they heard a groaning “Oh fuck!” in Forrest’s Southern drawl.

They followed the sounds into a deep cavern in the bowels of The Rock, a natural chamber that gave way to the quarry. There they found Forrest’s ass, looking like it was mounted on the cave wall, beneath it his legs dangling.

“What the fuck did you do?” asked Chad, studying the situation.

Forrest and his massive pregnant belly were wedged into a passage, halfway in and halfway out. The boys walked around to the stone structure to where his front was visible, then back to the other side where his fleshy rump was suspended in place.

“I could see the quarry on the other side,” said Forrest, “so I tried to crawl through.”

“You just had to walk around the big rock is all,” Jamie said, traipsing back and forth around from Forrest’s front to rear and back again to make his point. 

“Well now I’m stuck!” said Forrest as the boys laughed. 

Chad pulled out his phone and photographed Forrest’s ass, framed in stone, his thick legs dangling.

Jamie put his hands on either side of Forrest’s round rear and spread his fingers like antlers, giving Forrest’s ass the mock appearance of a hunting trophy. “Look, I’m a Stag!” he said, setting off another round of photos and barrel laughs while Forrest groaned.

Stu swatted Forrest’s ass and set his plump globes bouncing, which Chad diligently recorded as Stu nearly doubled over with laughter.

“Look at that, man,” Chad chuckled, framing more shots of Forrest’s pale  ass on his phone camera. “The Rock waited a million years just for this.”

Stu held his fingers up to his face and inhaled deeply to take in the scent of the ass he’d slapped. “Fuck, that smells good,” he muttered, then yelled, “Fuck! You guys smell that?”

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” said Abe, shoving Chad and Stu aside to crouch down and bury his nose between Forrest’s fleshy cheeks. His own belly was so pregnant he had to spread his thighs wide to accommodate it as he squatted.

“Must be a Stag thing,” Abe announced. “Just smells like ass to me. Let’s see how it tastes.” He pried the pale cheeks open with his meaty hands and plunged his tongue into Forrest’s damp hole.

“Hey, HEY! Do you mind?” blurted Forrest. But as Abe tonguefucked his hole, he groaned and whispered, “Go on.”

Stu looked on, mesmerized. His Stag Buck cock was rising and oozing lubricating precum. He gulped hard as Abe slapped Forrest’s jiggling cheeks and buried his face deeper between them. The longer he watched Abe tease Forrest’s ass the more sober his expression became, and the more his exuberant demeanor faded. 

Joey noticed and watched on. The Rut more than anything appreciates novelty, he knew, and a new hole — even one already full of some other Stag’s fawn — was near irresistible to the Stag part of his bro, driven to plant babies in every Buck he could.

“You got some Stag shit going on, huh?” asked Joey, not sure Stu could even hear him now. “Go get him, tiger,” he said with a swat to Stu’s rear end.

Stu stepped up to Forrest’s rear and shoved Abe aside, nearly onto his bottom. He slapped his meaty cock against Forrest’s ass, and the stuck Buck groaned as his pink pucker swelled in the presence of a Stag and his natural lube gushed.

“Aw no way man,” roared Abe, propelling up to his full height. He pushed Stu aside and pulled up to Forrest’s hole. “Abe’s at bat, bro!”

He pressed the head of his Buck cock to the slick hole and let it sink in. “Aw yessssss,” he groaned, his muscles twitching. He breathed deep as his full length was engulfed in ass, down his blond bush. He rolled his hips back to drive his length back into the eager hole.

Stu grunted and pushed the larger Buck aside with surprising strength, Abe’s dick pulling out of Forrest with a wet pop. He was singularly focused now, and no one could prevent him from fucking a fresh Buck.

“Hey bro, watch it!” Abe snapped, shoving back at Stu. 

“Fuck off,” Stu muttered, without no trace of his usual good humor. His cock was rock hard and swaying with its own weight.

The other Bucks were breathing heavily and Forrest was panting, his hole pulsing and dripping long strings of lube.

“Fuck,” Joey whispered, looking around at the stone walls around them, trapping their sweaty odor into a concentrated stew of Stag and Buck pheromones. No wonder they were all building up for a breeding.

“Should we go get Dean?” Jamie asked.

“Nah, he smells funny,” Stu answered in his distracted Stag voice, shoving Abe aside again.

Abe elbowed Stu to get his cock back in Forrest, but as his head grazed the pink hole Stu pushed his way back in again, with greater determination. He pushed the fat head of his Stag erection to the soft membrane and sank it in a single steady plummet. 

“Fuuuuck me,” Forrest groaned in a guttural voice, spreading his dangling legs.

Stu was locked in, starting up a rhythmic rolling fuck, slamming Forrest’s ample cheeks with every thrust in. His hips rolled without pause, driving his full length deep into Forrest’s breeding hole, tickling the Buck in a way that no other Buck’s ordinary cock could reach.

“What the fuck ever,” Abe groaned. “His ass ain’t all that.”

Chad laughed and shook his head. Jamie took his hand and said, “Let’s go check on Dean anyway.”

Chad noted that while Stu and Abe sparred over who ream Forrest, Joey stayed out of the fray. He wasn’t given to fighting, but it wasn’t like Joey to not get in there for his share of an available ass. “You good?” Chad asked him.

“All good bro,” Joey replied with a smile, “just enjoying the show.” He could see Jamie’s hand wrapped snugly around Chad’s. “Go on, see what the new guy’s up to.”

Chad nodded and wandered out of The Rock with Jamie toward the quarry.

Joey watched them leave, happily intoxicated by all the sex pheromones filling The Rock around him. Something had felt off in him since Brodie appeared at the Home, and this didn’t fix it but seeing Jamie and Chad’s tenderness with one another eased the restlessness that had been growing in him since that day.  

Even with whatever was going on in his head, Joey couldn’t resist the sight of Stu breeding. He stepped up to his side to watch the length of the Stag cock plow in and slide out of the lucky Buck in the rock. He worked his own erection, steadily streaming precum. 

“Abe, check it out bro,” he belted in his nasal voice.

Abe rallied and watched on the other side of Forrest. He worked his own meaty cock, still with a trace of Forrest’s ass juices on it from his brief plunge before the Stag Buck took over. Whatever his feelings from being forced out, within seconds he was as mesmerized as Joey at the spectacle of Stu’s Stag rut, the sight and sound and scents teasing their own loads.

Stu’s breath caught and his muscles tensed and swelled as his cock propelled a jet of semen into his new Buck, cumming in thick gushes. He gasped and quivered and his hips rolled in a slow strong grind, his seed filled Forrest’s insides. Forrest’s own prostate seized up as if on cue and forced a load out of his own cock in thick spurts as he gasped in quick breaths.

“Oh fuck,,” Joey groaned, his chest heaving with Rut induced arousal. He pulled his own Buck cock out to stroke it, his eyes darting from Forrest to Stu, still seeding the Buck, to Abe. 

Abe followed suit, hoisting his meat and beating it frantically, roaring “Yeah! Get ready for it!”

They both stepped closer to Stu’s rear and Joey shot a load right on the Stag Buck’s softly furred ass. Abe’s cum arced and splatted the small of Stu’s back, white against his golden skin, damp with sweat from his breeding.

Abe’s own face was red and his blond brows were knitting. Fuck, the blond footballer was good looking when he wasn’t busy trying to outdo everyone else, Joey thought, as their tongues pried into each other’s mouths. They took turns stroking each other’s cocks to get the last of their cum out, kissing the whole time.

When Stu’s Stag breeding ended, some minutes later, drew his cock out of Forrest with a wet smack. Despite himself, Abe gulped at the sight of the Stag Buck cock, huge even spent, and slick with Forrest’s lube. Stu, oblivious to the attention, staggered away, in a daze.

Abe and Joey lifted Forrest from the crevice, careful of his belly, and got him back on his feet. 

“Full up?” Joey asked, and Forrest nodded with the biggest smile he’d shown since arriving. His skin was red and dewy, his breathing heavy. 

“Best picnic ever,” Forrest mumbled in his Georgia drawl, inebriated from the Stag load in him. He clenched his hole to keep as much in him as long as he could, wishing he could have been knocked up again, pregnant as he was.

They all laughed and traded sloppy kisses, and then headed toward the quarry. There they found Dean floating on his back, his flat wet belly glistening in the sun. Chad and Jamie sat together under the shade of a tree, close together.

“What’d we miss?” called Chad.

“Abe here busted the new Buck,” Joey lied with a sly smile. “You shoulda seen. I swear, I thought he was going full Stag.”

Abe was caught off guard by Joey’s fib, but went with it. “Fuck yeah,” he boasted. “I haven’t had a piece of ass since I got to this shithole!”

As Abe clapped a brotherly hand on Joey’s shoulder, Stu let out a yell and ran fast, leaping from the edge of the quarry and into the water in a forward dive hampered only slightly by his pregnant belly. One by one the others followed, to varying degrees of diving skill. Forrest clambered in at the end.

At last they all lay in the water, bellies, tits and dicks poking out like island formations glistening in the sun. Joey noted how Jamie rested his head against Chad’s shoulder in the water, floating together in the quarry. It was the most tranquil they’d been since Brodie came to take Lane away, which had triggered the arrival of the three newcomers. It seemed the quarry had waited a million years for them to be there, just then. He let out a deep sigh and pushed his head back into the water, letting it fill his jug ears, dulling his senses and his unease. 

Stu ran a hand over his round muscled belly, a rolling rumble in him finally breaking the silence. “We didn’t eat already, did we?” he asked. As always, he was overcome with profound hunger after sex.

“There’s a whole picnic,” replied Jamie, exasperated at the Stag Buck’s fuck-addled memory.

“God, I hope there’s pickles,” Stu replied, licking his lips, prompting Joey, Chad and Jamie to glance at each other.

After swimming, eating and yet more swimming, the boys put on their sneakers and wandered back bare assed. When they reached the Hanging Jock post they made earlier, they each put on their jocks, briefs and shorts, with the exception of Stu, who left his Stag jock dangling from the stick.

“So we can find it next time,” he beamed, proud of his own ingenuity.

They made their way back to the Venable Home well into dusk.

“What on earth is the meaning of this?” asked Ms. Venable, when the boys finally arrived. “I thought you’d gone lost. I was about to call the police to search for you! Where on earth were you all this time?”

“Just at the quarry,” said Chad. “Sorry Ms. V, you know The Rock messes with cell phones. We would have called if we could.”

“I should hope so!” said the indignant Ms. Venable. “Can you imagine what would have happened if one or two of you had gone missing? What would I tell your parents? It would have been ruinous! It would have been the end of the Home!”

Chad and Jamie tried their best to calm Ms. Venable. They forgot themselves and rested their hands on each other’s backs as they spoke with her. Joey smiled and rolled his eyes at the two idiots, as if everyone hadn’t known about them for weeks.

Despite his laugh at them, he had to admit they were at least going for what they wanted.

Joey leaned in close to Abe, whispering, “Bro, do me a favor.”

“Yeah sure,” shrugged the football stud. He owed Joey for boosting his rep earlier.

“I need you to cover for me,” said Joey. "I gotta go see about a guy.”

- End, Chapter Three, Picnic at Hanging Jock -