1. Blake & Ben (A New Beginning) - Chapter 2 - Things Make Sense


    Date: 2/21/2015, Categories: Fiction, Gay, Teen Male / Teen Male, Author: StudioXPS, Rating: 88.9, Source: sexstories.com

    hair, in the full-length mirror on the back of my bedroom door, my cell phone starts ringing on my bed. I walk over and see Blake's name on the screen as the incoming caller. Suddenly, it becomes difficult to breathe. I take a deep breath, and try to sound nonchalant as I answer. "Hey, Blake," I say, with way too much enthusiasm. Smooth, Ben. Reeeal smooth! "Hey, man. I'm sittin' in your driveway. You ready," he asks. "Oh, shit! Yeah! Sorry! I'll be right out," I say, hanging up the phone. - BLAKE ABEL FOSTER - I press the end button on my phone and plug the AUX cable back into my phone and quickly begin rummaging through the artists on my phone. Ugh! I wonder what kind of music Ben is into? Don't want to play any music he might think is garbage. I finally say screw it and settle on "Happy Little Pill" by Troye Sivan. I then press the "Shuffle" button - trusting my iPhone to do its job and give us some good music to listen to on our way to the city. About 30 seconds later, the front door of Ben's house opens and Ben steps out. He pokes his head back in to yell something at one of his parents, I'm assuming. He spins around and descends the stairs. Goddamn, he's handsome. Please be gay. Please be gay. Please be-... Suddenly, the passenger door opens and he climbs in. "Hey, man. How's it goin'," I ask. "Pretty good! Thanks for gettin' be outta' there. Sick to death of looking at all the moving boxes," he says, accompanied by nervous laughter. I put the car in reverse and back ...
    out of his driveway. Chris lives clear on the other side of town, so, we will have a few minutes of alone time at least. Thing is, we don't really say anything. I'm nervous as hell and assume Ben is, too, by the way he's constantly fidgeting around and looking around my vehicle. "Happy Little Pill" comes to an end and for a split second, I get even more nervous. Not sure why. But, in my opinion, the type of music a person listens to says a lot about that person. Music is my everything. It's gotten me through a lot of hard times - music from famous artists, music I've written myself. I grip the steering wheel tightly when a noticeable "D'ow!" blasts over the speakers of my car and the rhythm to Michael Jackson's "Smooth Criminal" begins playing. Fuck! Scared the shit out of me. Damn it! I knew better than to trust my phone. I should have made a playlist. I look over at Ben, nervously and shrug when he gives me a what-the-hell look, followed up my a smile. "Yeah... sorry about that. I set my phone to shuffle," I say, snatching up my phone. I hit the lock button, which brings up the music player on the locked screen. I hit the next button. It's silent for a moment, then something even worse than Michael Jackson emits from the speakers: "It's Britney, bitch!" We approach a stop light and I do a literal facepalm. Oh, Dear God! This has to be a nightmare. Wake up Blake! Ben starts cracking up. I hand him my phone. "Here... just, here. Take this. Please, find us some music. Save me ...
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