Dream Boy

an excerpt



Chapter 1



"Hey, I like this song." Ken Ogiwa turned up the volume on the portable radio they had with them on Redondo Beach.

"Me, too." Hiro Aoki rocked his body to the beat of B2ST's "Dream Girl."

Their other friend, Gerald Barkley, pushed his dark-framed eyeglasses up his nose. "You guys are supposed to be studying."

Hiro stopped jamming but continued to sing the song in his head. He looked out at all the activity on the water. People fished off the pier, while others shopped the beachfront stores or just strolled in the sand.

Several cars drove up and parked near them. Hiro frowned. Jocks. Football players from Ridgefield University, small all-male university started climbing out of their rides and encroaching on their little plot of beach. The big lummoxes started horsing around, kicking up sand and generally making a nuisance of themselves. Redondo Beach was known as the Mecca for athletes. Numerous competitions were held there including the Super Bowl 10-K Run. If they got tired of lounging around the beach they could ride bikes, play volleyball or jog.

Gerald gathered his schoolbooks and tablets and tried to protect them. "Shit, what a way to ruin a day."

Two of the big dummies started tossing a football back and forth, ignoring them sitting there. He and the others were used to this type of treatment from Michael and the others on the team. The jocks considered them geeks and dweebs just because they were smart and on the student council.

"Dream Girl" continued to play. A black SUV appeared.

Hiro recognized the driver. Christian Hill, the quarterback, stepped out the door looking like a Greek god. The warm sunlight reflected on his golden hair. Hiro's gaze dipped lower. Christian had stuffed all those hunky muscles into a yellow and white sleeveless athletic shirt and matching shorts that hung precariously low on his hips. Hiro shivered from desire. Dreamboat walking.

"Go long," Tristan Morrisant, one of the tight ends, shouted.

Christian dropped his beach towel and ran for the ball.

"Look out. He's coming our way," Ken shouted, hopping to his feet.

Hiro kept his eyes on the ball, trying to telepathically put it into Christian's hands.

"Hiro, watch out!"

"Huh?" By the time Hiro stopped fantasizing he saw Christian fall. Down, down, down he went in slow motion. He came down too fast for Hiro to react. "Oof." Christian's face was in his crotch. Shit. It would be too much to ask that Christian not notice his erection.

Christian lay there for a couple of seconds before he moved. Instead of just lifting his head, he sort of turned over and lay there recovering. "I slipped on my sandals," he said to his friends, who ran over to check on him.

Hiro groaned from the extra weight on him. "Ouch!" He caught a charley horse in one of his legs.

Christian talked to him. "Sorry, little dude."

Hiro looked down into two lipid pools of blue that reminded him of the ocean. "It's okay." Christian Hill spoke to me.

Tristan helped Christian to his feet. "Are you okay, man?"

"Yeah," Christian said. "I landed on something soft." He never looked back.

Hiro stretched out his legs, groaned and tried to get the circulation going while the dumb jocks went off to play ball. His cock still smarted from having Christian's face planted on it.

Ken looked down at him. "Are you okay, Mr. President?"

"Yes," Hiro answered. "He has a hard head."

Ken reached to help him up.

"Ouch, I ache like a puppy," Hiro whined.

Ken smirked. "That's the closest you'll ever come to getting him to fuck you."

Hiro grimaced as both Ken and Gerald chuckled. A one-sided love is the worst kind.

* * * *

Hiro waved goodbye to Gerald when his friend dropped him home after they left the beach. Hiro tossed his book bag over his left shoulder and limped toward the front door. Though he didn't think he had any serious damage done to his body, he would be sore for at least a day.

After he entered the house, Hiro's ten-year-old brother, Kaishi, stared at him when he neared the stairs. "What happened to you?"

Hiro grimaced. "I got tackled by the quarterback."

"But you're not on the football team," Kaishi said as Hiro limped his way up the steps.

"Yeah, I know." All Hiro wanted to do was make it to his bedroom without fainting.

"Mom said dinner will be ready soon," Kaishi called.

"Okay." Hiro doubted he would make it back down the stairs for any reason. He opened his bedroom door, entered, and then shut and locked it.

Hiro's walls were littered with framed academic certificates of achievements he'd earned since he entered kindergarten. Being a genius did not save him from bullies or clumsy quarterbacks. He fell on his bed after tossing his book bag to the floor. He probably should have gone to the kitchen for some ice for his bruise, but he had other pressing things to do. Hiro reached over to the nightstand and took out his favorite picture of Christian and kissed it. And then he slid his hand into his briefs, gripped his sore but erect dick and jacked off while staring into the face of the man of his dreams.

* * * *

Hiro felt almost back to normal by Monday. Gerald Barkley, secretary, read the minutes from the last student council meeting. Besides going over the regular complaints from their fellow students and making decisions on punishments for infractions of rules, the student council, made up of some of the brightest brains in the country, also participated in community service work.

"Last week we discussed possibly trying to raise money to help build a new addition to the library," Gerald said.

Several people raised their hands.

Gerald called on them one at a time and wrote down their suggestions.

"How about we arrange a dodgeball game against the football players," one member suggested.

Hiro stood in the front of the room shaking his head quickly. But too many people thought it to be a good idea.

"It will be fun," Ashley Murphy, another honor society recipient said.

Hiro frowned. Sure, Ashley stood nearly six feet tall and did pretty well in sports when he wasn't studying.

Vice President Ken Ogiwa put the suggestion to a vote and it passed.

Hiro groaned. He wasn't particularly sporty, even though he'd been forced to take a physical education class like the rest of them. He wondered if he could fake some kind of illness on the day of the event.

"I'll speak to their coach and see if he can convince them to participate," Gerald said.

Another student suggested a fair with games and prizes.

Now this was right up Hiro's alley. And he was sure they'd make more money if they opened it up to the public. "We can get the art club involved to make the booths," Hiro said. This, too, got a positive vote.

Gerald went to the next topic, tutoring. Every year the best and the brightest volunteered two evenings a week to tutor some of the other students.

Hiro raised his hand. It wasn't like he had anything better to do. He'd already earned enough credits to graduate and just came to school every day because he got bored sitting around the house. He also had several job offers lined up for after he completed his senior year. All the members raised their hands except Paul Womack, a senior who had to help out his parents by working in the family restaurant. Paul's father had suffered a stroke during the summer and was still recuperating.

The meeting ended shortly after they discussed a few more topics pertaining to just council business. Hiro, Ken and Gerald disappeared into the council chambers to talk, while the others left for home.

"Do you think we can get a couple of members to volunteer to help out Paul and his family?" Hiro asked.

"Sure," Ken answered. "I can donate a couple of hours."

"Me, too," Hiro said. He was sure he could spare a few hours if he didn't have a busy tutoring schedule.

Gerald volunteered at the local senior citizen center twice a week and Ken tutored junior high students.

Ken unloosened his tie. "Man, I'm tired. I think I'm just going to go home and get some rest."

Hiro grabbed his book bag from the closet where he always stored it during council meetings. "Yes, me, too, but I promised Kaishi I'd helped him with his homework."

Ken smacked Hiro on the back of the neck. "Your brother is smarter than most guys in this university. What can he possibly need tutoring in?"

"He's having problems with Spanish."

Gerald chuckled. "Now why would an American-born Japanese person have trouble conjugating verbs in Spanish?"

"Why indeed?" Ken, another American-born Japanese, asked sarcastically. "Languages just come to us naturally."

Hiro shook his head at his two friends. They were the Three Musketeers and had been friends since preschool. They did almost everything together. Gerald led the way out of the council chambers, and Hiro and Ken followed him outside to the parking lot.

Hiro gazed over to the football field where Christian and his team were practicing. The players were too far away to see, but he knew Christian would be there. He climbed into the backseat of Gerald's car while Gerald and Ken sat up front. Hiro looked out the side window as they passed the football field. He spotted Christian easily tossing the football. It spiraled like a projectile through the air and was caught by one of the other players, possibly the wide receiver, but Hiro couldn't be sure on that, because he didn't know a damn thing about football except Christian looked good in his tight white and purple uniform.