Welcome to springtime in north Georgia. "C'mon, man, it was fun," Orlando protested. He looked sort of like a very cute, but soaking wet, puppy, with his hair plastered to his head and wide, infectious grin. Not that Karl would ever say such a thing aloud (having a healthy respect for his manhood staying intact, plus, he sort of wanted to get laid again sometime this century). "The dogs were awesome." "The dogs were great. But the mud and freakish end-of-the-world rainstorm? Not so much." Karl listened to Orlando and Chad bicker with only half an ear, as usual. If they weren't sniping at each other, he'd probably wonder what was wrong with them. Mostly, he concentrated his energies on the fact that he had mud oozing from what felt like every part of his body. Including his balls. Every time he shifted, he squished, sort of like what he imagined zombie brains would sound like. Not exactly a great mental image. He blamed the very large and overtly enthusiastic St. Bernard that probably weighed as much as he did and had decided that rolling around in the dirt was a great way to pass the time. Orlando whipped off his shirt and tossed it onto the glide, instantly flinging wet clumps of red Georgia clay everywhere. "My sister'll kill us if we track mud on the carpet. Strip down, guys. We'll use the hose." Chad looked like his eyes were going to pop right out of his head. "You seriously expect me to get naked with you and your boyfriend?" "Stop being such a prude." "I am totally not a prude." "Alright, kids, no fighting," Karl said, pointing a warning finger at both of them. Swear to God, they were totally worse than his cousins, who were ten year-old twins and fought over every goddamn thing like the fate of the world depended on it. And even they were more mature than Orlando and Chad when they got going. "Chad, keep your boxers on if you want, but I'm getting the mud off my nutsack before it starts to dry." "I really did not need to hear you talk about your nutsack." "That's only because you're only interested in Misha's nuts," Orlando grinned. Chad blushed to the roots of his hair. As pale as he was, it was really noticeable. "Fuck off." Orlando just rubbed his knuckles across Chad's head in an affectionate noogie. "I think it's cute." Chad ducked out of the way almost immediately. "Can we please stop with the dirty talk?" "If talking balls is diiiiirty, baby, I don't wanna be cleaaaaan!" Orlando sang the words, loudly and so off-key that Karl couldn't be sure it was actually singing. Then again, Orlando and singing were diametrically opposed ideals, much like Orlando and stillness. Chad just gave Orlando a look like he was a mental patient. "I think you've actually gotten worse." "I have an excellent singing voice, thank you," Orlando said, putting a hand over his chest like he was reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. "No, you really don't," Karl countered, with a shrug. Orlando made a 'hmph' noise. "I thought true love was supposed to be blind." "Maybe it is," Karl grinned, "but it sure as hell isn't deaf." "See, even the boyfriend thinks your singing sucks," Chad said, making a face as he peeled his mud-splattered shirt off his chest. "I feel totally gross, by the way." "Still, this beats Coach Morgan's two-minute drills," Karl replied. "Don't even remind me, dude," Orlando groaned, sounding pained. "Did you know he actually said he's been too soft on us lately?" "I think he's just pissed we lost to Auburn," Chad said, sitting on the floor to pull off his tennis shoes. His socks, once white, were a weird red-brown color. "Hell, I'm pissed we lost to Auburn," Karl stated, the words muffled as he pulled off his shirt. Instantly, his skin pebbled as the cool breeze hit him. "You didn't even pitch that game, man." "If I had, we would have won." "Your self-confidence is pretty hot," Orlando said, giving Karl an affectionate buss on the cheek. "I'm keeping my jeans on," Chad declared, completely apropos of nothing, but that was Chad for you. "Fine, whatever, just make sure they're clean before you head inside," Orlando sighed. "You're such a girl." Chad just flipped him off and walked over to the hose. Karl finished stripping down and waited for his turn. The rain showed no signs of letting up. "So much for Frisbee football later," he remarked. "Bummer, we were on a winning streak, too," Orlando observed, leaning his head on Karl's shoulder. Karl (approvingly) noted he was also naked, and sent up a small prayer of thanks that Samantha's house was surrounded by a huge privacy fence. It would be just his luck if some rabid Dawgs fan was out cruising the neighborhood and posted naked pictures of them on Twitter or something. Not that he was stalked like one of the Twilight actors or anything (he had no idea who they were, really, but all of his girl friends swooned over them so he sort of knew their names by osmosis), but college football fans were crazy passionate. Well, more on the crazy end than the passionate end, but it was the South, where football and good barbeque were kings. Karl couldn't imagine living anywhere else. He put his arm around Orlando's waist, drew him closer. They were both filthy as fuck, so it didn't really matter. The skies were a pewter sort of grey, with thick clouds hanging so low that Karl thought he might be able to touch them. The grass and the azaleas (at least, Karl thought they were azaleas; he didn't know much about flowers) were a riotous mess of brilliant greens and pinks and whites. Standing there, completely naked, Karl felt a little like some sort of primitive caveman or something. "I feel like I should be banging on my chest right now," he said, aloud. "If you're Tarzan, does that make me Jane?" Orlando grinned. "Because I don't think you could cart me off on your vine, man. I weigh too much." "You'd make a horrible damsel, anyway," Karl chuckled. He had no idea where Orlando came up with half the shit he did, but he sort of loved the weird way Orlando's mind worked. Even if he thought he'd never truly understand the process. "I am all alpha like that." "I meant more in the 'you're too mouthy' sense, but if you want to call it alpha, go ahead." Orlando softly punched Karl's side. "You love my mouth." "Yep." No point denying it. "You two are, swear to God, more adorable than kittens gamboling," Chad called loudly, as he turned off the hose. "That wasn't a compliment, by the way." Orlando idly gave Chad the finger, but otherwise didn't move. "You're just jealous that Misha's not here for you to cuddle with." Chad, Karl noted, didn't bother to deny it. "Anyway, the hose is all yours, I'm headed inside to take a real shower," Chad said, and headed for the front door. "Don't use up all the hot water!" Orlando yelled after him, then settled back in his previous position. Karl just tightened his arm around Orlando's waist. "We probably should get cleaned up," Karl remarked, after a few quiet minutes watching the rain. Orlando didn't move. "Yeah, we should." "Because my balls are totally starting to itch." "Which totally sucks." "Maybe in a minute." "A minute's good," Orlando said, and Karl agreed. Moving took too much effort. He was fine where he was and, besides, there wasn't any place he'd rather be. Onto Summer School
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