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The Drama Club-Part 2 (The Stagehand-Finale)

dontravis.com blog post #382

 

 
Stage Spotlights
Courtesy of publicdomainpictures.net
Well, has Jarrod ripped his britches with Kahn (please don’t try to make anything out of that comment, it’s a good Oklahoma saying)? Let’s see how things progress.


*****

THE DRAMA CLUB


Part 2 – The Stagehand (Finale)


Later that afternoon, Jarrod watched from his perch as Kahn built a mockup of his first set. He had removed his shirt and worked bare-chested. Jarrod replayed last night in his mind while watching the muscles play beneath that golden-brown skin. Kahn glanced up at him occasionally but continued working. Not wishing to confront the boy, Jarrod went to one of the lighting banks and began to clean the rig carefully.

An hour later, a creaking floorboard told him he had company. Kahn stood at the edge of the platform with the rope clutched in one hand. He was still shirtless. His eyes danced, looking everywhere but directly at Jarrod.

“Hi, man. What time did you leave this morning?”

Kahn shrugged. “Donno. But it was light outside.” He hesitated. “Jarrod, I want to apologize.”

“Apologize? For what?”

“For whatever I did that made you do that last night.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Jarrod said, amazed at the boy’s words. “I did it… well, it was partly selfish and partly not?”

The black eyes found his face for a second before falling away. “What do you mean?”

“You’d had some bad news and were hurting, and I wanted to get your mind off of it. But mostly, I did it because I wanted to.”

“You wanted to?”

Jarrod nodded.

“You do that to boys?” Kahn asked with a frown.

“You and one other… last year. He’s gone now.”

“Not for more?”

“No. I don’t go around doing that for anybody I see.” It was Jarrod’s turn to shrug. “Just for ones I like… a lot.”

“You like me? A lot?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“This other guy you did it for, he…?”

“He graduated last year. We used to come up here. I did for him what I did for you. And… more. You can too, if you want.”

Kahn’s thin eyebrows shot up into his hairline. His eyes almost became occidental. “You wan’ fuh?”

“If you want.”

“Uh…betta ge’ bac’ work,” he mumbled, backing off the edge of the loft. Fortunately, he still had a firm grip on the rope.

For the next few days Kahn buried himself in work on the sets and had his mockups ready earlier than promised. Figuring the stagehand was lost to him, Jarrod reluctantly concentrated on some more improvements on his lighting board.



The afternoon Ms. Atherton held try-outs was always busy and hectic, especially for Jarrod since he strove to give each would-be thespian the right lighting to bring out his or her best features. After the readings were over and the place cleared out, he relaxed in his easy chair beside the control booth and noticed the rope he sometimes used for access moved like it had a weight on the other end. After a moment, Kahn appeared, climbing effortlessly into view, his legs at a forty-five-degree angle. Yeah, the guy had been a gymnast.

Jarrod smiled and called a greeting. Kahn stood at the edge of the platform and mumbled something about wanting to see the set from this angle.

“Things went pretty good, huh?” Jarrod said to kill the silence. “Glad it’s over.”

He spent a few minutes speculating who would get what part to loosen the other boy up. When Kahn started responding, he found they agreed on most of the choices.

When a small silence grew, Kahn refused the offer of a seat, choosing to stand, shifting from foot to foot nervously.

“What’s up, Kahn?” Jarrod finally asked.

“When we tal’ las’ time… Well, you sai’… Uh, you still…?”

Jarrod walked to where his friend stood chopping off his words and revealing his agitation. “Yeah, I still, Kahn. Any time. You’re still one handsome son of a gun.” Kahn may have blushed, but Jarrod couldn’t be certain.

Kahn confirmed his embarrassment by turning and leaning against the metal railing that passed in front of the control booth. Jarrod walked up behind him. After hesitating a long moment, he put his hands on the other boy’s hips and dropped to his knees. His tongue snaked out and pressed against the cotton of the boy’s pants. Without warning, Kahn turned around and spread his legs. The old stage below them creaked with age. Even Kahn’s ragged breath created small hollow echoes.

.

Without totally understanding, Jarrod stood and pressed his groin against the boy’s butt. Trembling in excitement, he slipped Kahn’s trousers down and caressed smooth, satiny flesh. He dropped his pants and pressed against Kahn. Without consciously intending it, he found himself inside his friend. Kahn grunted, but made no protest. At times their moans took on the lilt of a Gregorian chant. Jarrod tried to delay things, but he couldn’t. The spurt of his semen robbed him of his strength, and he dropped back onto the mattress. Instantly, Kahn fell atop him and moved his hips frantically.

When it was over, there was some awkwardness as Kahn shrugged out of his embrace and restored his clothing. Without turning, the boy mumbled. “You fuh me, Jarro’! Why you fuh me?” He moved to the rope and slipped out of sight.

“You can do it to me,” Jarod called down softly. “Now. Later. Anytime.” Kahn showed no sign he heard. Sadly, Jarrod turned away to go clean himself up.



The lighting technician became lost in his work as rehearsals began. He experimented with different light angles, with new filters, with anything to keep his mind off of the silent form of Kahn as he moved catlike through the sets, changing, adjusting, improving. Jarrod had to admit that Kahn was as good with the sets as he was with the lighting.

Following the final dress rehearsal, Jarrod stayed later than usual replacing some bulbs that seemed to be weak. He didn’t want them blowing on opening night. As he finished, he heard a noise, and looked down. Kahn stood on the stage, hands on hips looking up at him. Not knowing what to do, Jarrod gave a half-hearted wave and went to clean his hands. When he came out of the small bathroom, Kahn stood at the edge of the platform looking vaguely uneasy.

“Hi,” Jarrod said.

“Hello,” came the solemn answer.

“Kahn, once you apologized to me even though you didn’t do anything. Now it’s my time to apologize to you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like I did.”

“I wanna do it,” Kahn slurred.

“What? Well, okay. Sure. When?”

“Now. I wanna fuh you, Jarro’! You unnerstan’ wha’ I say?”

“Calm down, Kahn. Of course, I understand.”

“Like you do me!”

 “I said okay. What else do you want me to do?”

“I don’ kno’,” Kahn almost wailed.

Jarrod moved forward, and Kahn took a step backward, almost falling off the platform. “It’s okay, Kahn. Come over here with me… on the mattress.”

Jarrod stretched his long frame and reacquainted himself with sensations and emotions and pleasures he hadn’t experienced in five long months. Kahn settled down, transforming himself from a little boy experimenting with sex into a young man seriously plowing his partner’s furrow. Still, he moaned, going from a high hum to a low, throaty growl. Kim was a confirmed, certified moaner. If there was anyone else in the theater, they knew something was going on somewhere!

Finally spent, Kahn rolled off him. “Oh, Jarro’, I din’ kno’ it was like tha’! I do okay?”

“Any better and we’d both be dead! I hope the hell anybody came in while that was going on thinks there’s a monastery choir practicing somewhere. That brought a giggle, then a belly laugh.”

“Sorry I got mad at you Jarrod.”

“So you’re back to talking like an American,” Jarrod teased.

“Okay, worthless Kahn humbly beg honorable lighting technician’s pardon for acting like an asshole.”

“Honorable lighting technician accepts worthless set director’s apology. What was it for again?”

“For being an asshole.”

“Seems to me I remember liking that.”

“You know what I mean,” Kahn said, punching him on the arm, making the muscles in his chest roll.

‘You’re so beautiful,” Jarrod breathed, all teasing behind him now. “I’m so lucky I found you.”

“We goin’ make love ‘gain?”

“Don’t go getting all excited. But sure we will. Whenever you want.”

“How ‘bout ever’ day?”

“Whenever you want within reason.”

Jarrod Gray knew that something special had come into his life and would remain there at least until Kahn graduated in the spring. After that, they’d have to see….



*****

Sometimes things work out just find, don’t they? So Jarrod and Kahn seem to be fixed up, but what about next year? Kahn won’t be around… or will he?


Until next week.


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See you next week.


Don

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