Perverted Science

But Jim would detect a false note creeping into his voice. He was a terrible liar, and besides, they knew each other too well.

"Not so hot myself, Slugger. I bombed that essay for Costa's class."

"Really? I wonder what Costa's problem with it was. Surely, not the subject matter..."

"He said it was inappropriate."

"Because it was about homosexuals?"

"He didn't care to specify."

Crunch-crunch-crunch.

"Dude, that's bullshit."

Will agreed. It had been eating at him for some time, as his grade point average was sure to take a nosedive. There was another thing that had been troubling him, however.

He hesitated before continuing.

"This is going to sound cheesy as hell, Will, but..."

"What?"

"No, forget it."

"Just fucking tell me already. Out with it."

"You're not going to forget me when you get your first Nobel Prize, are you?"

"Nah. At least not until they hand me the check."

Will laughed, and the tension between eased, at last. There was no need to formally renew their vows of friendship.

"Can I talk to you in person?"

"Yeah."

Thirty minutes later, Will arrived at Jim's house. It was a vulgar remnant of housing bubble of the early aughts, a large, rambling McMansion that would have made H.L. Mencken weep had he lived long enough to see it. It was also one of only three houses occupied on his street.

Will knocked on the door, and Jim answered wearing only his Ninja Turtle pajama bottoms.

His pale upper torso was sleek, but better defined than he last remembered. He must be working out.

"Come in," Jim said.

Jim walked his guest to the kitchen, and offered him a bottle of Evian.

"Are your parents around?"

"Nah, they went to the movies. I think they might even be shacking up in a motel later on. They're in this phase were they really want to re-ignite the passion."

"Gross."

"Indeed."

"So to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Will smiled. He looked severely cute, Jim thought, despite seeming a tad flustered. His big, brown puppy dog eyes kept making and breaking eye contact. Something was on his mind.

"I think you know what I came here to say."

"No, tell me."

"I...well..."

"Yes?"

"I've seen the way you look at me, and I know you've been wanting to take things to the next level for some time now. The truth is, I really want it to work between us, but I'm scared. I'm scared it could mean the end for us, I'm scared because I waited so long, and I'm scared it doesn't even really matter anymore, with graduation coming up. In a few months we'll both be meeting new people, and I don't think either one of us has any illusions about the longevity of long-distance relationships."

"Goddamn, that was a mouthful."

Will's cheeks turned bright red. He looked down at his shoes.

Jim was immediately sorry for his flippant reply, and took his Will's hand in his. Jim had a difficulty dealing with complicated emotions, and it often resulted in such acrid bursts of sarcasm.

"It's okay, Jim. I'm scared shitless too, okay? Scared out of my mind, but the way I see it, we have reached the end of the line here. Now there's really only one thing left for us to do."

"What?"

"Lose it."

Will looked into his friend's eyes. He was one hundred percent, dead serious.

The boys capitulated at last to their inner yearning, and kissed. Only that's an understatement. Their hands and bodies rushed to meet each other, drew together like magnets, as they reveled in the sensation of skin against skin. Will loved the smell of Jim, it was a manly aroma compounded of Gillette Sport, Aqua Velva, and another underlying scent that was uniquely Jim, a scent that made him think of hot summer days, and the aroma of flavocal inside darkened multiplexes when they went to see b-movie double features...

They played tonsil hockey for good four minutes before Will broke away, gasping.

He leaned into Jim's ear.

"Fuck me." Will whispered.

Jim did not need to be told twice. He dragged Will upstairs to his room, where they both quickly stripped off their clothes.

He dropped to his knees in front of his Will's erect penis. It seemed incredible to him that this was actually happening, after dreaming about it for so long. He licked his lips in anticipation. There it was, Will's fat, glistening mushroom head, just inches away.

He looked up at his friend, who was smiling down at him. Go ahead, his eyes seemed to say, gorge yourself on my cock and balls, suck it to the root, baby, suck to your heart's content.

Jim swirled his tongue around Will's cockhead, sending waves of pleasure through his friend.

"Yeah, there you go, suck my dick like you're mad at it."

Jim polished his rod for a good half hour, until his legs were asleep, and his knees raw from scraping against the carpeted floor. Again, and again, he impaled himself on Will's erection, waiting until he tasted the salt of his precum before stopping.

He rose to his feet, and grabbed Will by the shoulders.

"Get on the bed."

"Go easy on me, Jim."

Jim couldn't resist a smile.

"What? Didn't Taj's monster cock loosen ya up enough?"

"He's never been in there."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No. I've been too...too afraid to let him in there."

"Good."

He was going to be Will's first. That was something he'd never forget. No, Sir, not in a million years, you never forget the first man to penetrate you.

Jim slid his erect dick into the smooth cleft between Will's plump cheeks...

"Unclench, Will."

"I'm trying."

"Come on, relax for me, baby."

Little by little, more and more of Jim's greased up cock disappeared inside Will's hole, until his pubic bone was mashing up against his friend's ass.

Will hissed air though his gritted teeth. Fuck, it hurt.

"Should I pull out?"

"No way, get it, big daddy," Will said, and he chuckled. It was the first thing they had programmed Taj to say.

Jim slammed his cock into Will, hard enough to make his wooden bed posts thump against the floor. It got to be so the thumps punctuated every thrust, in a staccato, percussive rhythm that began to quicken and quicken as the boy moved to the ultimate crescendo.

"YOU-"

Thump!

"-LIKE-"

Thump!

"THAT!"

Thump!

"-FUCKING-"

Thump!

"-TAKE-"

Thump!

"-IT!"

Thump-thump-thump!

Will was in a delirious state now, somewhere between real agony and ecstasy. His ears were ringing, and he realized it the sound of his own voice doing it. He was screaming.

"Fuck yeah, give it to me, right now!" Will shouted.

Will was surprised not only by the animal intensity in Jim's thrusts, borne of too-long suppressed desire, but his own complicity in his subjugation. He was loving every painful/pleasurable moment of this.

Jim was getting close now. He could feel himself tensing up, his balls drawing up in his sack.

Will was also on the verge. Jim's dickhead jabbed his prostate, and he felt his body tremble. His mind reeled, unable to comprehend the savage pleasure that was overtaking him. His sphincter began to contract wildly...

"Holy fuuuuuuuck!" Will cried.

Jim threw his head back, and howled. It was a strange, and thrilling sound to hear, a series of vowels stretched out in an operatic, high-pitched ululation that merged with Will's breathy moans of pleasure.

Houston, we have lift-off!

Will was seized by an overwhelming feeling of intense pleasure that made even his best romp with Taj pale in comparison...

"Oh my god," Jim said, his body shaking.

When it was over, Jim slid his dick back out of his friend, and gooey semen dripped from Will's broken cherry like runny oatmeal. He must have ejaculated about eight times, he later told Will. Sure, the medical textbooks said that such an occurrence was a very distant possibility at best, but the amount of semen leaking out of Will told him otherwise.

Will felt moisture spreading under his stomach, and he realized he too had ejaculated more than expected. He relaxed his still-curled toes.

They were both breathing hard.

Jim turned Will over onto his back. His eyes slid down the front of Will's chest, shimmering with sweat, rising and falling at a quick tempo, down to the sticky mess between his legs. His dick was softening, but it still looked tasty, covered in goo.

He bent down, into the warmth and a smell very much like chlorine, and ran his tongue up the length of Will's cock. He lapped up as much of his friend's sweet and salty cream as he could, leaving Will's penis slick and shiny with saliva.

Jim savored the flavor of Will's come, letting it play across his taste buds. No, it wasn't the tangy citrus tinged synthetic treat that oozed out of Taj's balls. It was better. It was human.

He lied down beside his friend, his face glowing. Will's was too.

"Hey, wanna go to the Prom?"

Will looked at Jim curiously.

"What, you mean on a double date?"

"No, with me.

"

"What about Emile?"

"He said he couldn't go, something about an old boyfriend coming back into town. He might have been making it up. I don't he's come out to his most of his friends and family yet."

"Well, in that case..."

Jim turned to Will, and brushed his thumb across his friend's cheek.

"You know how long I've been waiting for this night? It sounds corny, I know, but it's true."

Will felt like responding with "people can have trouble seeing things that are right in front of them", but that was just too trite to actually say aloud.

They settled into a comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"What now?"

"We have a score to settle," Jim said.

The next morning, Jim and Will marched together into Costa's classroom. He was checking his e-mail. A copy of The Way Things Ought To Be lay on his desk, next to a triptych displaying photos of his wife, Marjorie.

"Mr. Costa, I want to discuss the grade you gave me on my essay," Will said.

Greg didn't bother to look up from his computer screen. These sorts of requests were all too common toward the end of a semester

"Mr. Costa, this is serious," Jim said.

Now he was beginning to get annoyed.

"I don't see how this is any concern of yours, Jim," Costa said, flatly.

"But it is, Mr. Costa. Me and Will have been friends for a long time now. I feel like it's kind of my duty to look out for his best interests."

A tiny smirk formed on Costa's face. It was kind of cute seeing these fags stick up for each other.

Jim saw the smirk, and it pierced him. It was the same expression of smug superiority he had seen on Rick Hanover's face when he announced his boyfriend.

"You don't particularly care for gay people, do you, Mr. Costa?"

Costa blinked, not sure he had heard correctly. Had Jim Goldberg come right out and asked him a direct question?

"My personal beliefs on the subject are irrelevant, Goldberg."

"You don't have to come right out and say it. It's pretty obvious from the way you never censure anyone in class for using the word 'faggot', or 'queer,'" Will said.

"Or how about the way you always single us out in class. What was it that you said to the class just last week? "The world will eat you guys alive if you act the way these two lover boys..."

"Now, hang on, Goldberg-"

"No. There was no call for you to do that. I was simply sharing a joke with my friend. There's nothing wrong with two gay male students socializing toward the end of the class period-not unless you're a homophobe."

Costa was beginning to weary of this. He had two or three complaints like this filed against him every semester. Inevitably, they made rounds through the district, only to be forgotten when more pressing issues reared their heads, like budget begging in front of the state.

"I'm not a...homophobe. You simply didn't choose an appropriate topic for your essay, Will."

"Yeah, well, I overheard Richie Jenkins talking with his friends in the restroom yesterday. Apparently he got an A. You remember his essay, don't you, Mr. Costa? What was it about again?"

"I can't recall at the moment, but I don't see what it has-"

"It was about how Hollywood's Gay Agenda is destroying the American Family, by pushing its perverted lifestyle through movies and TV shows like Modern Family. Richie told me that, albeit not without some hesitation. We're not exactly besties, you know? In fact, I distinctly heard him mutter "faggot" as I turned to leave."

"What do you want?"

"If you don't change Will's grade to an A right now, we'll have no choice but to call the cops."

Costa threw his head back, and laughed. This was finally just too much for him. What a screwed up society we live in, he thought.

"Go right ahead," Costa said, smirking as he handed the boy his google phone.

"Thanks."

Jim dialed 911.

"Operator, can you connect me to the police department? I think my social studies teacher may be soliciting underage prostitu-"

And that was as far he got before Costa snatched the phone back out of his hands.

Costa's face was a mask of disbelieving fury.

"What's wrong? Would it be inconvenient for you if we informed the authorities you've been fucking around with a seventeen year old boy on the weekends?"

"That is a lie-a blatant lie, you little shit!"

And this was just the cue Will had been waiting for. He had downloaded the video from Taj's hard drive to his phone.

He played it for Costa. The image quality was a little murky, and the audio was tinny coming from the phone's speakers, but it was unquestionably Costa, drunk, naked, and cavorting like the Greeks of old.

Costa's knees gave out. If the chair hadn't been behind him, he would have hit the floor.

His mouth was bone dry. In a space of seconds, he considered his options. He could play their game, or, he thought darkly, he could arrange to have them murdered. It was tempting to imagine. A few thousand dollars was all it would cost, and he'd never spend a sleepless night wondering if these dipshits would use him like an ATM throughout the years, when the going got rough.

Of course, he'd have to explain to his wife why he'd plundered their retirement nest egg.

"What-what do you boys want?"

"We told you. Will's essay about deserves at least a B. It's carefully constructed, well-formatted, and well researched."

"Lots of firsthand observations, I might add," Will chimed in.

"And it conforms to basic SAT essay writing standards."

"So does the Unabomber's manifesto," Costa said.

"I'm sure you would have given him an 'A'."

"How do I know you little faggots won't try and use that video to hit me up for cash later on?"

"Because."

"Because what?"

"Because blackmail is illegal, sir."

"What the hell do you call this?"

"A friendly meeting of the minds. We're not saying this video will leak to every major media outlet in the country, if my friend here doesn't get into CALTEC. But wouldn't it be a shame if it did?"

"You think you're pretty slick don't you? How did you do it? Did you pay him off that little faggot whore to record me?"

"Sorry, trade secret."

Gotta keep my cool, Jim thought, gotta keep my cool.

"So there's nothing else?"

"No," Will said.

"Get the fuck out of my sight."

The two boys moved to the door. Jim turned as he left, unable to resist.

"Look, don't take this the wrong way, Mr. Costa, but for the sake of your wife and kids you may want to see a psychiatrist. You have some real anger issues And your copious use of the word "faggot"? If I wanted to be cruel, I might say its rather unoriginal, but it's really just sad, given your obvious, and profound self-loathing. Have a nice life."

Before Costa could reply, Jim slammed the door closed behind him. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, his heart hammered in his chest.

"I can't believe I just went through with that," he said.

"Neither can I," Will said.

"What should we do with that footage?"

"I don't know, upload it to Burning Camel?"

Will had to hand it Jim; when he had a kooky idea, he went all the way with it.

"We could ruin lives that way," Will said.

"You're right. We should alter the sound of Taj's voice first."

The boys looked at each other in the hall. A single thought bloomed inside Will's head: I don't care, I don't care, I don't care anymore, let them all see. The bell rang announcing the start of first period, summoning forth legions of not-fully-awake kids to class, like weary Parishioners to Sunday services.

But they soon shook off the last dregs of sleep when they saw the boys.

A seismic tremor rippled through the crowd, first causing fits of disbelieving laughter, then riotous applause. It was these cheers that drew the attention of Mr. Pearsall, the school Principal.

"Oh my-"he began, but the words died in his mouth.

Jim and Will were kissing.

Mr. Pearsall rushed down the hall, his loafers squeaking across the linoleum floor.

"Boys, please! Where is your sense of decorum! This is a place of higher learning, for God's sake!"

He clamped his hand around Will's arm, and yanked him away from Jim.

Pearsall's ice blue eyes glared at both of them from below his neat crew-cut.

"Boys, we have strict rules against PDA. You know that."

"Maybe it's time to rewrite the rules," Will said, without missing a beat.

Pearsall didn't quite agree. They were each given Saturday detention, albeit on separate weekends ("lest you boys be tempted to perform an encore").

It was two weeks before graduation, when they found themselves at Taj's apartment

"You look a little tired, man," Jim said, as soon as he saw him.

The color had gone from his cheeks, and there were bags under his eyes. He would need a system reboot soon.

"Yeah, well, my upstairs neighbor came down for a drink, and before long, her roommate joined us, and one thing led to another..."

"Say no more," Jim said.

"I'm not sure I even have the energy to go through with tonight's appointments."

"You know, we really need to reprogram you. There's a million other things we could put you to use for, stuff you'd like," Will said.

"Absolutely! Hell, let's get him a real job. Pretty soon, he's going to have to settle down with a nice girl in the suburbs," Jim said, with mild sarcasm.

Taj did not seem to notice. He looked far away, and pensive; a strange expression for his usually sunny countenance to take.

"Since we're on the subject, last night got me thinking..."

"Do tell."

"I can't really connect to any of these women I've been seeing. Not on a personal level. They're not really aware of my condition."

"How would you like us to remedy that?" Will asked.

"I want a mate."

"A mate?" Jim repeated.

"Yeah. Why not?"

Jim and Will exchanged glances.

"What do you want?" Jim asked.

And at this Taj, smiled, and cleared his throat. It was clear he had given it a lot of thought.

"Well, to begin with, she should have real big porn star tits."

"What about her personality?" Will asked, weirdly aware of how un-PC this all sounded.

Jim, sensing this, did not bother to point out the absurdity of worrying about gender stereotypes when it came to walking toaster ovens. He simply bit the inside of his cheek, until his smile died away.

"Give her a mind of her own. Sweet, but not dumb, or overly submissive. I couldn't stand a Stepford wife," Taj said.

The conversation continued in this vein, as Taj went further and further into copious detail as to the sort attributes that constituted for him, the ideal woman. Will and Jim took notes, and within days, got to work on designing an electronic Eve to complement their android Adam.