Learning To Show Off My Cock in High School 04: The Garage (Patreon)

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Chapter 4: The Garage

"He's your brother, dude."

Jake had the top up this time, and he was doing sixty on a curvy road through the trees that really merited more like twenty-five, coming down off the reservoir with the town lights rising up at us. My phone sat face-down on my thigh. Neither of us had gotten fully dressed. His shirt was on inside out, and backwards, with the tag riding up under his chin. And his hair was pushed up on one side from the back seat, and he kept one hand on the wheel and the other twisting the vent knob back and forth nervously.

"Okay," he said. "Okay. Text him again. Say it's a prank."

"It's..." I counted them, "eleven videos."

"Did he say anything back? Tell him it's not me. Just call him a faggot and say he probably likes the videos you sent."

"Dude it's your face, sucking dick. Then clearly the same guy getting fucked in the ass."

He took a curve too fast and the tires spun out slightly. "Just say it was AI."

"But why would I send all those, and it's several minutes of video altogether. And there's no AI mistakes and hallucinations and shit."

"Ok, nerd.... FUCK."

"He doesn't know my car, maybe."

"You're really grasping at straws now, dude."

I had my legs open in the seat, taking up the whole footwell, and I was still wet at the front of my sweats from where I'd leaked into them after. The cotton stuck to me. I put my hand on myself over the fabric and left it there, mostly because I liked that he could see me do it while he unnecessarily checked his mirror for the twentieth time.

"Somebody stole your phone," he said.

"And filmed you begging for dick?"

"We were drunk."

"Dude, he knows."

"Face swap. There's apps." He said that one fast, like speed would help it. "There's apps that put your face on stuff, people do it to celebrities."

"I guess that's possible. But it's so obvious dude. You gotta just let it go. It happened."

"You're such an idiot for sending those to him."

I pulled my sweatpants down, hooking them under my balls, trying to change the topic and cheer him up.

"Yeah... my bad."

He glanced down and couldn't stifle a smile. "Put that shit away. That's what started this whole mess."

"Put what away?"

"...your big giant cock, dude. That fucking sledgehammer pussy buster."

"That's right," I said. 

Silence for a moment.

"Shake it around," he said, his eyes still on the road. 

He glanced down as I wiggled it from the base, half hard, still messy from the sex. "You like that?"

"Yeah."

After another minute, Jake's mouth opened and shut.

"We gotta just tell him what happened," I said.

"No," he said. "No, no, no."

He pulled into the driveway a couple minutes later and killed the engine. We sat there in silence for a minute with the lights off. Their parents' car was in the garage, and the window was dark along with the rest of the house. I lived ten minutes down the street on foot. I could have just booked it and wished him good luck, but I felt like I had some responsibility to stay, if he wanted me to.  The garage light suddenly came on.

He kept both hands on the wheel.

"Let me go in alone," he said. "I bet he's right inside."

I turned sideways in the seat with my back against the door and put my arm up along the seatback, so I had most of the space in the car and he had the rest of it.

"If you want," I said.

He paused. "I'm scared."

Another pause.

"I'm coming in," I said, in the voice I'd been using on him in the back seat twenty minutes prior. His hands came off the wheel.

I got out first and shut the door and stood on the concrete in the cold with my arms crossed, and waited. After a few seconds, his door opened and he came around the front of the car. I followed him up the driveway.

····[]····

The side door into the garage was propped open, and I could see the light inside. We walked in, and Brody was standing at the workbench with his phone already lit up in his hand. He started before the door was even shut behind us.

"So... what the fuck?"

"Bro."

"Don't bro me." He held the phone out at arm's length toward him. "Why did he send me these? What the fuck?"

"Shut up, dude. Don't wake everyone up."

"Mom's asleep." He didn't lower it. "You sat at that table today and told me about some kid who goes around whipping his dick out. And then six hours later I get eleven videos of you bent over your own back seat taking it."

"I didn't send them."

"And it was him? He gestured at me." His arm was still out.

"It's a prank," Jake said, and I could hear it dying while it came out of him. "We were messing around, it's a bit. It was all AI."

"My ass."

"..."

"His ass, actually," I said.

I wore a cheeky grin I couldn't help, as the two of them stared at me with a level of anger and frustration I had never been on the receiving end of in my life.

Brody dropped his arm. "The fuck are you even doing here."

I didn't answer.

"He's known you for like, a couple days? I've known you since seventh grade and I hear about you from him, just as a rumor." He shook the phone. "You're in this. Your voice is all over this."

Jake said, "He didn't do anything."

"He didn't do anything," Brody repeated. "Okay."

I stepped off the doorframe and walked into the middle of the floor, in between the two of them, close enough to the workbench that Brody had to look slightly up at me.

"Yeah, I fucked your brother," I said. "Tonight. In the car. And yesterday in the park, he blew me in the bushes. Everything on that phone is exactly what it looks like."

Nobody talked for a second.

"And," I said. "I don't really know why he said whatever he said in the kitchen. I guess he was feeling you out. He wanted to see what you'd think, how you'd react."

Behind me Jake moved a step back toward the door.

Brody looked past me at him. "Is that true?"

Jake stopped retreating. He stood there with his shirt inside out and the tag sticking up under his chin, and his eyes went to the floor, then to Brody.

"Yeah," he said. "Basically."

"Basically." Brody set the phone face-down on the workbench and kept his hand on top of it. "Dude, you were always the cool one. You don't ask me anything. You never have. Why do you care what I think?"

"I don't know, man." Jake's voice came out smaller than I'd ever heard it, smaller than it had been begging in the back seat. "I do care though."

Brody rubbed a hand down his face. He was in a t-shirt and pajama pants, barefoot on the cold concrete, and he suddenly looked younger than both of us even though he was my age.

"You know I wouldn't care if you were..." he lowered his voice on the word, "gay or whatever. But it was fucked up that you lied to me. And THIS is fucked up, getting these as texts."

They both looked at me again.

"Well, yeah," I said. "That's on me."

I stood where I was. I had my chest out and my hips pushed forward, standing under a bare garage light bulb with the front of my sweats damp and heavy and the whole print of my dick hanging there in the light for both of them to look at, waiting to see when I should leave. But they both looked down at my crotch at same second. Brody's eyes dropped and came back up. Jake's lingered for an extra beat.

And my dick started to thicken up. Standing in a garage, basically getting yelled at, with my heart pounding, and the two of them looking, my body responded. I shifted my weight and let it happen.

"You want to yell at somebody," I said to Brody as I reached down and groped my crotch hard, making it bulge out. "This is the culprit."

We all chuckled, the vibe thankfully getting lighter. Brody put a hand back on the workbench edge and leaned onto it, then sat back against it and crossed his ankles.

"How long," he said.

"Like nine inches," I said, "Maybe a little over."

"No, you fuckin' idiot. How long have you guys been fucking?"

"Oh. Two days. Or... a day, I guess."

"How?"

"He nodded at some bushes and I followed him in."

"Did he ask you or did you make him?"

"He asked."

"Did it hurt?"

"Ask him."

But he didn't. He was scrolling now, thumb moving, not looking at the screen the whole time, just enough to keep it moving.

"So apparently I've been hearing about you all week," he said. "At school. You're the guy with the big cock? I was SURE they were talking about somebody else. I can't believe it's real."

He huffed. "And then Jake comes home and tells me the same exact thing." He stopped scrolling. "He was telling me about you. On purpose. He was feeding me a rumor about the guy who was already putting it inside him."

"Yeah."

"That's insane."

"Yeah."

"And you've been showing it to people? Like at school?"

"Yes."

"How many?"

"I don't know. Fifteen? Twenty."

He nodded slowly at that, and then he asked the next one looking at my crotch instead of at Jake's face.

"How big is it actually."

"I already told you."

"For real though."

"I don't have a ruler," I said. "It's bigger than a monster can."

His eyebrows went up. He went back to the phone and thumbed through a couple more, and then he stopped on one and held it there, and whatever he was looking at he didn't say anything about, and he didn't scroll off it either.

"Yeah, I can see that," he said with an exhale.

Off to the side, Jake had his arms folded across his stomach. Nobody had said anything to him in a while. He was dropped out of his own conversation.

"Do I just have to see you at school every day now and act normal?" Brody said. "Like Monday. I just go to school."

I didn't have an answer for that one.

Brody scrolled some more, his phone playing videos at a low volume. He stopped and tapped the screen, looking up at Jake.

"What do you say in this," he said.

Jake's head came up. "What?"

"In the video. There's a part where you say something."

"I don't remember... why?"

"I'll play it again," Brody said, and he lifted the phone and his thumb went to the volume rocker, and his eyes flicked to the ceiling, to the dark bedroom over our heads. The video played. It was muffled, but I remembered what he had said. And I knew Jake remembered too.

He looked at me.

I walked over to him. He stood in the middle of the floor between the car and the bench and I came around behind his shoulder and put my hand on the back of his neck, up under his hair, and closed my fingers.

"Say it," I said, letting my breath hit his ear. I knew he felt it.

He was facing Brody, with me behind him and my hand steering him, and Brody was four feet away against the workbench watching him do it.

"I asked for it," Jake said.

"Asked for what?"

"I asked for his dick." His hands hung at his sides. His eyes dropped to the concrete and I moved my hand and brought his head back up. "I asked him to fuck me. I begged him."

Brody's mouth came open a little. "Wow."

"Keep going," I said.

"I begged him to..." His voice cut out entirely in the middle of it. He swallowed and it didn't come back on the first try.

I tightened my fingers on his neck.

"And I wanted him to call me a good boy," he said.

Redness spread up his neck while he said it, over his jaw and out into his ears until the tops of them were dark, and he kept his eyes on Brody the whole rest of the sentence because I was holding him there. I felt his body react. He was loving whatever this had become.

Brody didn't move off the bench. His one hand had gone into his pocket with the phone in it and he left it there. His eyes went from my hand on Jake's neck back to Jake's face, over and over, and he kept looking anyway.

And I was fully hard by then, standing in a lit garage in a house where their parents were asleep upstairs, in wet sweats with nothing under them, with my hand wrapped around the back of an older guy's neck. It pointed sideways down my thigh, and everyone saw it.

I let go of Jake's neck and he stayed exactly where I put him.

"Give me the phone," I said to Brody.

He took it out of his pocket, looked at it, and put it back in.

"No."

"Delete it, then."

"No," he said again, flat and level, his shoulders loose against the bench. "I'm keeping it."

He pushed off the workbench and went for the door into the house, and got his hand on the knob, and stopped.

"For the record," he said, talking directly to me, "video's not proof of anything. Anybody can fake a video, right, there's apps." He let that sit for a second. "So I need to see it in person. The actual thing."

I looked at him for a moment.

"It's right here," I said. 

He paused again. 

And then he closed the door instead of going through it.