Jocking, The: Third Quarter

12:00

«4»

By CallMeCrazy

I'm sorry. This took waaay too long. I even forced myself to not get online until I finished. Teeny tiny amount of muscle growth. Really small, just a warning.

[b]12:00: HAIL MARY

[/b]Somewhere, off in the distance, a small bird chirped in the willow tree. Lazy branches hung low over the shallow stream of water, effortlessly flowing away, into a strange infinity just beyond the horizon. The air seemed to hang stiff and full, bottling emotional torrents as private words and thoughts echoed over the pristine landscape. Adam sat, his deep azure eyes penetrating into the soul of the man across from him. Darker and smaller, his brown stones returned the deep stare. No words were muttered or thought. No movement disturbed the canvas. Nothing could tear the moment from its ethereal place in time.

Nothing, except that it wasnít real.

It never was. And even as his eyes opened to the site of the dark cell, he knew where he was, what he was doing. He also knew that the dreams of deep silence but powerful emotion had become a constant torrent on his dreamland. He was over the shock, the confusion. It was obvious that his unconscious mind had some deep issues with James, issues which needed to be resolved. Were being resolved.

And to make life a but more complicated, Kai Cole had yet to awaken from his Sleeping Beauty slumber. For a person whom Adam had always contained a deep, personal loathing, the image of the decrepit and wasting boy was hardly the reinforcement for which he had been hoping. Twice now, he had witness a physically battered boy awake from a dream, and each time something deep inside himself stirred. Some strange thought, some connection.

Just as he was about to return to his emotional slumber, the long lashed over Kaiís eyes began to open and he slowly woke. The bright green eyes struggled to focus as he rolled onto his chest. His eyes traced up Adamís formed, tucked neatly into a corner.

"Morning beautiful. Have a nice nap?" Kai stared awkwardly at Adam, who slowly moved toward the confused boy. "Kai Cole, right?"

"Yes . . . do I know you?"

"Adam Turner," he extended his hand. "I, umm, well I kinda rescued you, and failed . ."

"Uh huh . . .Oh! Oh, so it wasnít a dream. My God, my mind is so fucked right now. Iím swamped with memories and I have no idea whatís real."

"Huh."

"My head hurts. Do you have any water?"

"Oh yes, right next to the buffet. Fresh from the crystal lakes of Southern Russia. So pure it freezes completely clear."

"Do I detect a hint of sarcasm?"

"Served with a side of charm and wit."

"And cancer?"

"Not that kind of wit."

"Good."

"So . . ."

"Yeah . . . why are you here? Not to mean, but I figured they would have jocked you or killed you, or something."

"Yeah, Iím special. The boss man says that Iím different from most people. And I think the big jock has a little crush on me."

"Brock? Wow. And youíre different too . . . can they not jock you?"

"Dunno, they make it sound like they want to join willingly."

"Huh, thatís a choice."

"What fucker would ever choose high powered conformity over individuality?"

A moment of silence set in the air as Kai stared towards the ground.

"You donít really know that itís like that . . ." Kai muttered.

"No, but come on, free will. Itís my personal best."

"But you have no idea how it can make you feel."

"Oh my fucking God! You want to be one of them?"

"No, itís just . . . I was, or was going to be. You saved me right at the end."

"So, you liked it?"

"No, yes. It was weird. There wasnít so much noise in life. It was simpler, and it felt nice and warm and just . . ."

"Say no more, if you want that life than take it! We donít need anyone whose only in for half the fight."

"How can you say that when you have no idea what itís like to be them?"

"Because, I have to believe that the life I have chosen is wonderful."

"But what if you wanted something more?"

"More what? More fun, more muscles, more friends? I donít need them."

"Everyone dreams of being the popular kid."

"Yeah, well I never got to."

"Why not?"

"Because unlike the majority of little boys growing up, I didnít get to run with the kids or go outside. I got to be hooked up to a machine that breathed for me."

"Oh, wow."

"So yeah, I admit, I have the jock fantasy. What it would be like to be the cool, athletic kid."

"But you look so . . ."

"Built?" Adam raised his shirt to reveal a set of chiseled abs. "This is since I came to college. I hired a personal trainer and made myself over. I took control. Senior year of high school my lungs were finally fixed. So, I got in shape. Itís nice, donít get me wrong. The hot bod is pretty neat."

"So how can you not wish that you could really be that way?"

"That simple? Iím not a simple person. Hell, I rarely speak without at least one subjective clause."

"But wouldnít it be nice for all those years of pain and isolation to go away. To have been . . . normal?"

"Kai, Iím a twenty two year old man who has just realized that heís a fag and in love with his best friend. And you know what? Iím normal."

"What?"

"Everyone is different. You canít apply the same standards to any two people. I am normal, cause there is no other way I can be. I am just me."

"But what if they gave you another life, a better life?"

"One where your parents werenít killed in a chemical fire?"

Kai stared, blinking his wide eyes a few times.

"How do you . . ."

"Kai . . . I know who you are. Your music, your life. And Iíve watched as you have moped and released songs of pain toward life for leaving you alone. And you know something? You really annoy me."

"What?"

"I bet that within five minutes of meeting you, everyone learns that your parents are dead, right? Well guess what? Mine are too. I donít make it a fuss and muss. I deal. I live."

"Your parents are dead?"

"Yeah, but the thing is, just after talking to you, I know why I hate you."

"You hate me?"

"Not anymore. You are me. I mean, you are what I was, in high school. Filled with rage and anger toward a world that just keeps fucking with you. I mean, Iím finally healthy, and then six months ago I get caught in some weird chemical rain and end up in the hospital. Sometimes life hits you with a bat. You just gotta continue onward."

"What do you mean?"

"Iím going to fight Briggs and Brock and the whole world if I have to. For me. For my life. Because I am everything I want to be. Trust me, I can imagine how could it would feel to finally be on the team, to be healthy and strong and simple."

"So how can you just dismiss it?"

Adam stared at Kai, as though choosing his words carefully.

"Because all I want, is all I am. All I need, is what I am."

"And what if you arenít enough?"

"Pessimistic arenít we? Well, then, Iíll just have to figure out something else, another way to do it."

"No fear?"

"And no regrets. If you fight with me, then I always come to save you."

"What?"

"I promise."

There was another moment of silence as the two stared at each other. More was said in Adamís eyes than his mouth. He was calm, compassionate, and filled with an unstoppable determination. The doors to the cell clanged open and three large men entered. Brock sat down next to Adam, and gently laid his arm around his shoulder. The other two scooped Kai up, and hoisted him away. As he stared back at Adam, his eyes filled with tears.

Adam opened his mouth a few times, but no sound came out. But the words were there.

I love you.

**************************

Briggs smiled brightly as Kai was dragged into the room. The two men, who looked vaguely familiar to Kai, restrained him on a glass table.

"Good job Flex, Guard." Wordlessly, the studs left the room.

"What . . . but, I thought you didnít really jock me. But I remember getting those guys! Doing it for you!"

"Ah, yes, little boy," Briggs patted Kaiís head lightly. "But you see, I threw in some reality with the dream. Just some positive reinforcement. But donít worry, this time, I wonít make you wake up."

The world grew black around Kai. He was standing the middle of a football field. The air was stale around him, carrying a morose silence as it hung over the stadium. Rows upon rows of bleachers traveled up towards the sky, further almost than he could see.

He recognized the scene. Just as it had been before. The old Kai Cole, off to the side, looking bleak and filled with despair. Alone and scared. It was so dark, so cold. Such a terrible place.

And then there was Cole Rock- big, tough, monster jock. With all his jock buddies. His huge thick muscles, chiseled and pumped for action. Each movement of the body was a spectacular display of the masculine physique. The crowds, the cheering, it overwhelmed him. The tight uniforms and plays. Tackling the quarterback. Running his body into the ground, and doing it again and again. A clockwork machine of pure joy and sexual stimulation. Nothing could ever compare with those feelings. That raw muscle, and the power.

But in the middle, was another boy. A little more built than Kai, with shorter hair. His hands crossed over his chest. He stared quietly. Kai reached out toward him, trying to grab on.

"Adam! Help me! I canít do it. I canít be alone. I canít live like this! Oh holy fuck! Iím so sorry Adam. I wanted to fight with you. I wanted to. But, I canít do it anymore."

Blinking back tears, Kai slowly descended into Rock. He could feel his muscles growing, the tendons stretching and groaning to reach new lengths. The thickening of his body, expanding outwards with power never known before. Frail arms became huge, bulging biceps, thick veins spreading over the entire body. His mind began to slow, as the fresh scent of sweat and piss filled his nostrils. Thoughts of the game, plays, and jock life entered his head, forcing out the old self. He could feel his mind slowing down as his face squared and gained a sense of innate stupidity. Calm obedience.

"No one can save me."

And Kai faded into darkness.

**************************

Chloe walked around the compound, unsure of where to go. She needed to get out. But she needed to stay and fight. Fight this new man. Fight those fuckers who were using her project. She entered a small room, covered in white. On the table, a small boy lay, trembling in spasms. One look at the equipment and Chloe knew what was happening. Pulling off one of her knife-like heels, she smashed the tip into the computer screen. Instantly, the machine began to spurt electricity and sparks. She stepped back for a moment and watched as it died.

The boy was still lying on the table. Gently nudging his up, she held his limp body against his over-sized bosom. She let in a heavy sigh, unsure of what to do. She hoisted the boy up, and slowly dragged him to her chambers, his head deeply embedded in his breasts the entire way.

[b][b]11:00 remaining in the quarter . . .[/b] •


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