Pretend You're Someone Else (Chap. 17)

*You can find the folder to the other chapters here:

ID: 1727540   (Rated: 18+) Pretend You're Someone Else  A man hides a secret from his family and has no clue that his son has the same secret. by KAT26/Adrian--Published!

Chapter will probably be edited.

Part Two

Chapter Seventeen

August-1975

Avoy, Georgia

"If you truly love me, you'll help me pull off this prank."

         Peter walked briskly down the tiled, third-story hallway of his high school, ignoring the irrelevant chatter surrounding him. He didn't give a damn about the news in Vietnam, or the Patty Hearst robbery, he had other, more important things on his mind.

         The lunch bell had just rung and he to find Robert--time was crucial. Admiring his new, green tennis shoes as he maneuvered his way through the crowd to his locker, Peter was quite surprised to see that his boyfriend wasn't waiting for him as usual.

         Grudgingly twirling the lock, Peter's mood instantly soured: he fumed inwardly. Damn him! He better have a good excuse. Today was the perfect day to race his new Camaro up to a secluded spot in the woods behind the school for an hour long sexual encounter with his boyfriend. Every second that Robert made him wait, Peter would make him pay for in the car.

         Yanking open the handle, he saw a folded piece of notebook paper lying on top of his 'never been open' calculus book. Recognizing Robert's 'delicate as lace, but strong enough to carve into stone' handwriting, he picked up the note and unfolded it.

         Meet me in the basement under the elem, school cafeteria, I thought we would try something new today.

~~Frankie

         Smiling, Peter shut the locker and sprinted towards the main staircase.

*****

         "Robert?"

         Peter coughed, as he fought his way down the basement steps, brushing back the occasional cluster of dirty cobwebs. The only light came from a dimly lit bulb hanging from a water stained ceiling. What the hell? Passing by the rumbling boiler, he found Robert perched on top of an old desk.

         "Hey," his boyfriend called out a little too cheerfully.

         "Hey baby," Peter replied quite amused. "A basement, huh?" He turned his head to study the dark, damp room littered with old books and chairs. There better not be any fucking rats, or roaches down here. With a little sneer, he turned back around. "Tell me again why you chose this place?"

         "I'm feeling extremely brave with the fact that we could get caught any minute." Robert replied then suddenly took a flying leap off the desk.

         "Hmm," Peter caught him, where he instantly planted a kiss on his boyfriend's hairline. "I was ready to make you do terrible, yet wonderful things to me in the car."

         "We can do all of that and plenty more down here." Robert sank to his knees, reaching his fingers up to pop open the button on Peter's bell-bottoms. "I'm craving the thrill of someone walking in any minute."

         Reaching down, Peter ruffled his boyfriend's silk black hair. "Baby, what if we do get caught someday and don't you dare raise up to answer me."

         Robert's tongue slipped around the tip of him, causing Peter to hiss and raise up on his toes.

         "Honestly, if someone should ever, accidently, discover us--I'd kill them. Just the thought that we would be found out...Ooh, Robert don't make me kill someone."

         Minutes later he felt his boyfriend's throat muscles as they swallowed. Once Robert was standing, they adjusted their clothes and headed upstairs...lunch had officially ended.

*****

         "Peter you worthless idiot, come into the living room! I need to talk to you now!"

         Glaring at the closed bedroom door, Peter replied by flipping his middle finger, causing Robert to burst out laughing.

         "Daddy's drunk," he sang, while stepping into his bell-bottoms. On the opposite side of the bed, his boyfriend began to dress as well.

         "What does the old man want anyway?" He balled up a turtleneck and tossed in in Peter's direction.

         "Dunno? Maybe that he's sick and on his deathbed?"

         "Hah!"

         Peter reached out to kiss Robert as they unlocked the door and began their way downstairs. "One can dream, dear."

*****

         "Sit," Erich Anderson pointed to the leather couch.

         Peter fought back the urge to salute, instead he fell onto the cushions, while Robert perched next to him. He watched his dad walk over to the sidebar and mix a heavy drink. Peter took a good look at the man's premature graying hair and lines around the eyes, feeling a little bit of pleasure knowing that the alcohol was doing it's duty...slowly killing him.

         "So, what the hell are ya'll doing today?" He slurred.

         Peter wanted to say, 'fucking Robert until he screams,' but took a less dramatic approach. "Jacking off, whatever."

         Erich snorted and swung back the bourbon. "Ah! Anyway, you do realize that you're almost eighteen?"

         "I just turned seventeen, how is that possible?" Peter smiled and Robert giggled.

         "Stupid, arrogant kid," Erich slammed his glass down. Peter didn't even flinch as his father continued to rant and rave.

         "Boy, you spend way too much time at Robert's house, do you even fucking have a girlfriend?"

         Yeah, he's sitting next to me, retard!

         "I haven't found the right rich bitch to screw over. I mean, isn't that what you and mother always wanted from me? Marry a dumb, rich girl."

         "I don't give a fuck if you screw every poor, white-trash, country bitch in this city, just don't get her pregnant."

         Peter crossed one leg over the other and raised an eyebrow. "Fully noted, father."

         Erich glared, poured another shot and smirked, "Almost eighteen and no girlfriend...tsk-tsk. Boy, are you sure you're not a goddamn fagot?"

*****

         The next morning Peter stomped around Robert's bedroom as he changed clothes. With only an hour until school started and his boyfriend staying home sick, Peter had to hurry. The night before, he had taken his frustrations out on Robert; the boy was now too...ill to make it downstairs.

         At first Peter felt extremely guilty, he remembered the incident involving Paul, but after gazing into Robert's gorgeous, brown eyes, his boyfriend opened his mouth and whispered, "go for it."

         "Quit stomping around, don't let your dad piss you off," Robert yelled out, throwing him from his flashback. "He just wants to fuck with you."

         Peter responded by sending a swift kick into the bathroom door.

         "Skip school and sleep with me," Robert purred. "I promise I'll take your mind all off daddy."

         Peter smiled. Why not? No damn-it. He knew if he stayed behind, Robert would be in a wheelchair for weeks to come. Walking over to his boyfriend, he pulled the silk sheets up to his chin.

         "Sleep tight, baby. When I return at three-thirty, I'll make it up to you, I promise."

         Robert kissed him. "You better."

*****

         The school day snailed by and it wasn't even ten o'clock. The minute hand had crawled during first period Calculus. Instead of completing his quiz, Peter just randomly scribbled down answers and spent the remaining hour daydreaming about the wonderful things Robert had done to his body the night before. Damn! He knew he would be late for his next class.

         Now, in second period Latin, Peter honestly considered just picking up his stuff and leaving, his body craved Robert's in such a way that it scared and delighted him at the exact same time. Thinking about this brought him back to his dad's evil accusations. Thankfully, the man had been quite drunk and 'the liquor had talked' so to speak, but his father was so close. Peter's blood began to boil, but suddenly his train of thought was interrupted by his teacher.

         "In ancient Rome men use to sleep with their male servants when their wives were out of town. They did this so they could honestly tell them that they didn't cheat with other women."

         Smiling at the collective gasps from the crowd of fourth-year Latin students at their teacher's lecture, Peter inwardly rolled his eyes. What was so wrong with sleeping with the same sex? If they only knew.

         Returning to his daydream, Peter suddenly raised up in surprise. He had an idea! A brilliant idea that would shut his drunken dad up, as well as give him and Robert some fun. Without knowing it, his Latin teacher built a plan in his head. If a man in Ancient Rome could sleep with his male servants and lie to his wife, then perhaps Peter could...?

         Quickly, he skipped to a blank page in his notebook, writing the words: Vulnerable Women across the top. Casting a glance at the girls in his class he mentally graded them. Susan had a boyfriend, Alice was single, but too smart to fall for Peter's plan. Darla? Hmm...Average looking and no boyfriend, kinda gullible. Peter added her to his list and returned to Latin. His plan was to gather up the names of the 'most vulnerable' girls in school, pick the most naive, pretend to date her, gain her trust and perhaps a few secrets, then dump in her public. It would get his dad off his back.

         Throughout the day, Peter added to his list. He was so excited he didn't even go home for lunch. Finally, last period, creative arts. Skimming over the paper, Peter frowned. He really couldn't think of anyone to use. Sure the girls he picked were ugly, naive, but the problem? Everyone knew each other. Susan and Nancy were cousins--that would never work. Peter crossed off both names. Perhaps, this list wasn't such a good idea? He needed a new plan.

         "Students may I have your attention please," Mr. Behren's voice called out. Peter snorted and continued combing over the list. There has to be a crack somewhere in these girls...

         "Tomorrow I'm pleased to welcome back an old student of ours. Does anyone remember Stacey Shelly?"

         Instantly, Peter's head popped up and he focused on the teacher, who continued:

         "After eighth-grade graduation she moved to New York City and now she's back. She will be joining our art class."

         Constance, the girl sitting in the front of the class, shot her hand up. "Isn't she that weird chick who dressed all in black and drank coffee," she giggled.

         Peter gave the girl the 'once over,' noticed her ugly, purple knit dress and smirked. Look who's talking.

         "Who did she think she was? Some beat-neck wannabe?" The captain of the football team, Gary Sanders answered. Instantly the class dissolved into laughter. To Peter's delight even Mr. Behren stifled a giggle.

         With a rush of adrenalin, Peter printed the words: Stacey Shelly on a blank piece of paper. The he circled it continuously. Smiling like a cat, he raised his arms over his head and stretched with happiness. New girl, no contacts in this town, the school and teachers thought she was a bit weird. Perfect.

*****

         Peter must have flew home in five-minutes, pushing pass everyone and skipped joyfully up the steps of Robert's house.

         "Darling," he cooed, once inside the waiting room. Dropping his backpack on the sette , he pulled down the zipper and pulled out his notebook. He could hear the opening theme to, The Brady Bunch in the background. Stupid show.

         "Baby, I missed you!" Robert squealed.

         Turning off the TV with a snap of the dial, Peter took a flying leap onto the silk bedsheets. "Have I got a surprise for you!"

*Next Chapter*

ID: 1772450   (Rated: 18+) Pretend You're Someone Else (Chap.18)1/2  Peter and Robert go for a walk with Stacey. Secrets are revealed. (1992) by KAT26/Adrian--Published!