Simple Physics

Chapter 1 - Friction

“Friction—the rubbing together of two objects, or the effort expended in moving one object over another with pressure,” said Tucker, his voice a bored monotone as he recited from the text without so much as a spare glance in Dash’s direction.

The blonde scowled, crossing his arms behind his head and kicking his legs out onto the desk in front of him, tilting his chair onto its back two legs as he did so. It was almost four thirty. He’d been stuck listening to the geek ramble about physics for nearly an hour now, and it wasn’t getting any easier. If anything, the things he said seemed to make less and less sense as time wore on.

“And what’s that supposed to mean, Foley?” he muttered sourly, speaking up for the first time in at least half an hour. He’d been zoning out for most of it, but his “tutor” didn’t seem to care much. “You expect me to believe friction is like…sex?”

Tucker’s pen faltered on his paper, and a faint smirk tugged at Dash’s lips. Finally, something that riled the kid; he’d begun to think he was sharing a room with a robot.

“Ohh, I’m sorry…I forgot,” he crooned sarcastically. “Nerds don’t have sex …so you wouldn’t know, would you?” Behind his book, Tucker frowned, shifting slightly, but saying nothing. Dash’s smirk grew. “You’re really missing out, you know,” he said, purposefully lowering his voice as he brought his chair down and leaned forward onto the desk. “Sex is like…well…like everything you said about friction or whatever…except a lot less science and a lot more…” He finished the sentence with several vulgar grunts and an exaggeratedly high-pitched moan. Tucker almost dropped his pencil, his brown skin not quite dark enough to hide a heavy blush, and for some reason, Dash’s cock twitched at the sight.

With faintly trembling fingers, Tucker pushed his glasses up higher on his nose and set his book down, leveling his gaze determinedly with Dash’s. “First,” he said, “having a working brain between my ears does not automatically mean I know nothing about sex; second, yes, friction is involved during sex, as it is with almost any form of physical contact, but no, that is not the definition and third, I hope to God those last sounds weren’t a reenactment of your last sexual escapade…unless you’ve been really busy fucking a dairy farm.”

It was Dash’s turn to blush. “Yeah, well,” he stuttered awkwardly. “What would you know about it, huh?” he sniped. “I bet you’ve never gotten off in your life…cuddle your homework all night long…or do you masturbate to your textbooks? Maybe to that annoying PDA thing you carry everywhere?”

Tucker scowled, looking every bit the part of someone dying to say a great deal, but unwilling to stoop low enough to do so. “The last time I ‘got off’ is really none of your business,” he said tightly, “especially since the point of this tutoring session is to pull up your abysmal grade point average, but if you’d really rather talk about the finer points of my sex life, then by all means, keep going. We only have a few minutes left anyway.”

Dash crossed his arms, scowling. “If there were finer points in your sex life, Foley, you wouldn’t be half as prissy about it. You don’t know anything about getting off.”

“Fifty bucks says I could bring you off faster than any girlfriend you ever had,” muttered Tucker beneath his breath, his words so quiet that at first Dash thought he imagined it. Then, to his horror, he found himself trying to figure out how fast that was. Oddly enough, Paulina had actually timed them once.

After coming up with a number, Dash debated for all of two seconds before saying very clearly, “Four minutes, thirty-two seconds.”

Tucker looked up sharply, obviously not expecting that answer, and Dash almost felt smug. Then, Tucker’s gaze flickered fleetingly to the clock, and it really should not have turned Dash on the way it did. He was straight. He knew that. And besides, geeks were not hot—especially not when they drew their bottom lip between their teeth and worried it anxiously, or wet their lips and fidgeted in their seat…

“Deal,” was all the warning Dash received.

For one terrifying second, he thought Tucker was going to kiss him, but then, he just yanked the chair around—with surprising force for such a small figure, Dash noted—and dropped to his knees. Dash’s hormones went on a field day. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a little voice whispered that he was about to loose fifty bucks, but he quickly squashed it. Tucker’s hand was between his legs, providing glorious pressure to a straining lump in his jeans that definitely shouldn’t have been there, and oh he didn’t want it to stop for the world. Swearing beneath his breath, Dash’s hands moved to grip the sides of his chair, and he grit his teeth.

“You know,” he panted, working very hard to keep from bucking outright into the palm currently drawing circles around his erection and only halfway succeeding, “I’m…mm…I’m very…straight…” When Tucker applied more pressure, Dash groaned, his head dropping back against the back of his chair and his body arching completely of its own accord.

“Hmm. Yes,” said Tucker. “I can tell.”

“S-shut up,” growled Dash. The effect was slightly marred moments later when his snap gave with a quiet pop and long, dexterous fingers slid boldly down his pants, circling his erection without a hint of hesitation and drawing an almost keening whimper from the seasoned football player. “That…that’s not fair,” he whined.

“What’s not fair?” asked Tucker, his hand giving a long, sure stroke to the heated flesh in his grip and simultaneously turning Dash’s legs to Jell-O. “That you’re gay?”

“I’m not-” Dash began, but then Tucker’s spare hand undid his fly and there were two hands moving on him, shaping him with a sculptor’s grace and the air in his throat burned and scratched like sandpaper on fire and he couldn’t breath and, “Fuck,” he moaned, knuckles going white on the sides of his chair. “You…oh, shit, yes…nngh…not gay.”

“Of course not,” said Tucker.

From the standpoint of trying to keep himself in check, Dash picked a very bad time to open his eyes—perhaps the worst possible time, even—because he was straight, and watching a skinny, four-eyed, techno geek bring soft brown lips down around his cock absolutely positively should not have been the hottest fucking thing he had ever laid eyes on. When Tucker glanced up, some distant part of Dash’s mind vaguely noted that the boy really had very pretty green eyes behind those nerdy glasses. Then, his world shattered and he jerked with a strangled cry, praying fervently that there was no one left in the school to hear him as he came—hard.

The aftershocks were slow to wear off. As he sat, shaking, in his chair, Dash wondered offhandedly if it was strange that the best orgasm of his life had taken place in a physics classroom. His mind was hazy and his body felt like very satiated silly putty, so he decided not to worry about it for the time being.

He looked up just in time to see Tucker spit in the wastebasket, and for some reason, the sight made him frown. Next time, he thought, he wanted to watch the boy swallow. The fact that he never questioned whether or not there would in fact be a ‘next time’ should have thrown up an immediate red flag. But it didn't.

“Your fly’s undone,” Tucker commented as he walked back from the wastebasket to their study desk, running the back of his hand along his mouth and grimacing slightly. “Oh, and,” Dash watched as he shoved his books haplessly into his backpack in one swoop, “two minutes and fifty-nine seconds.” Tucker zipped his pack promptly and slung it over his shoulder before turning to face Dash, expression deadpan and unreadable as he said, “You owe me fifty bucks.”

Dash watched his retreating figure with an odd fascination. He briefly considered mentioning that they’d never shaken on it, but then Tucker shut the door behind him with a click and he figured it was probably for the best anyway. Besides, it would be worth seeing the expression on his face tomorrow at school when he realized he would have to explain to his little nerd friends why Dash Baxter, of all people, was openly handing him a fifty-dollar bill in the hallway.


                ~~~~~~~~ Back to Dash/Tucker ~~~~~~~~ Chapter 2


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