Monday, July 1, 2019

The Cave 0: Beginnings




Note: This is a different kind of story. It is the origins of Cody + Ryan, starting from when they met at 10 years old. You will find more standard wrestling/adult content, in Chapters 6-8.




“I don’t wanna go.”

“Too bad. Put your sandals on, Ryan.”

“Please, Mom, can’t I stay home? Please?”

I whine on and on, but I get ignored as my mother looks at herself in the mirror. My mom mutters about how fat she is. Yes, she’s a big woman and she’s put on a lot of weight during the separation and divorce, but as her son, I know she’s beautiful. She’s taller than all the other moms, her white skin is flawless and her dark brown wavy hair is shiny and moves like water when she shakes her head. None of the past year’s drama shows. Not on her face, at least.

She’s adjusting and re-adjusting her navy blue and white summer dress and messing with her makeup and hair. I get hope. Maybe she’s as nervous as I am? Maybe she doesn’t really want to go. Maybe she’ll cancel if I ask her nicely to stay home with me? I take another approach. Instead of complaining, I offer up mommy-son time at home. No mom can resist that.

I’m wrong. She firmly says, “We’re going.”

I know I should let it go. I can see her getting tired of my protests. I know this, but I don’t let it go. I stamp my feet, “She’s your friend, not mine. Can I pleeease stay home?”

“Enough. You’re only ten years old. Sandals. Now.”

I pout, “I’ll be good. I won’t open the door to anyone. I won’t touch the stove. I’ll only answer the phone for your special ring. I won’t do anything.”

Uh oh. That’s it. I’ve pushed too hard for too long. My mother lashes out at me, “Exactly. You won’t do anything except play one of your stupid video games and pig out on junk food. You need to get off your butt before you’re too big to fit through the damn door. Now, you’re going to come with me, get outside and play with Maggie’s boy. Do you understand?”

Tears suddenly well up in my eyes. I try to speak, but I can’t. I know I’m a big kid. Taller and heavier than any of the other boys my age. Not just big. Fat. And I’m shy. Quiet. Nervous. At school, they even started calling me Shrek. I hate that movie. It’s just one of the mean names they call me. It all hurts and I won’t miss any of them now that we’ve moved to a basement apartment across Philadelphia in a new suburb.

As much as the teasing hurt, it hurts a lot more when your own mother says it. I can try not to blame her, but I do. I know she doesn’t mean it. It’s not her fault. It’s my dad’s fault. My dad left us for Cynthia. Ever since, my mom has changed. She can switch between happy and mean and sad without warning. I know she’s hurting and stressed. Just like me.

My mother realizes she’s gone too far. She kneels down and wipes the tears away with her thumb. She hugs me and she apologizes. I apologize, too, promising I’ll be good. I promise to be good a lot. I’m not bad, but she worries about me. She feels guilty. My dad left her with nothing and she says he has no intention of providing for his only son. I hate him.

When she pulls back from the hug, she says calmly, “Ryan Joseph Bates. You’re a big boy. I need you to act like one now that it’s just you and me. Mommy is trying her best. As the man of the house, I need you to try your best, too. Can you do that for me?”

“I’ll try.”

Mom gently brushes my overgrown curly hair with her fingers, “Honey, this is a chance at a fresh start for both of us. You are a smart kid. But you need friends.” I open my mouth to argue that I have friends, but she says, “Real, live friends. Not computer people who are probably all 40-year old creeps anyway. It’s not healthy to be alone all the time.”

“Okay.”

“And mommy needs friends, too. Mrs. McCoy is a nice lady that I went to high school with. I haven't seen her in a long time, so I want to make a good impression." She smiles, "Her boy will be in your class. Won’t it be nice to start at your new school with a friend to show you around?”

“What if he hates me?”

Anger returns to her face, “He will with that attitude. Didn’t you just promise to try?” I nod. My mom looks at her watch, “And now we’re going to be late.”

We aren’t late. It’s only a block from our small basement apartment to the house. She lets me sulk and give her the silent treatment on the walk, but as we stand on the front stoop, she warns me that there will be real trouble if I’m not on my best behavior. I’m ready to pee my pants, but I hold it in. I hate this house already. I hate my mom for dragging me here. Well, not really. I could never hate her, but I’m really angry at her.

A very pretty lady in a yellow summer dress opens the door. She welcomes my mom then looks at me. She seems nice. She even says that I can call her Maggie, but I don’t fall for it. I know my mom doesn’t like kids using first names with adults. I call her Mrs. McCoy and my mom approvingly squeezes my shoulder. We go in and my bladder almost bursts.

We walk through the house to the kitchen. Mrs. McCoy is so different from my mom. It’s like she sings when she speaks. She’s happy. Even a little silly. Everyone probably thinks she’s beautiful. And when she moves, she doesn’t walk. It’s like she floats and twirls and dances. I know she’s a good mom who never yells at her son or makes him do things he doesn’t want to do. I’m jealous of him already.

I’m on the lookout for this son of hers. Not only does he have a great mom, but he still has a dad at home, too. Lucky. The coast is clear. So far. She asks me if I brought my bathing suit, because Cody’s in the pool. Cody. Pool. I tense up. This isn’t off to a good start. I know I won’t get along with a swimmer named Cody who still lives with both of his perfect parents in a nice house. I hate him. And he’s going to hate me, I just know it.

I’m about to say ‘no’ when my mom pulls my swim shorts out of her bag. Sneaky. She even lies that I’m a good swimmer. I can float and tread water and swim a little, but probably not like ‘Cody’. He’ll probably want to race. I’ll lose and he’ll make fun of me. I don’t move until one look from my mom. I take my shorts, smile then head to the bathroom to change.

I look in a couple of bedrooms as I walk by. One looks like a teenager's room with football stuff, a TV and a computer. Oh great, I hope there's no older kids here. One ten-year old is bad enough. The second room has a lot of Batman and wrestling posters on the walls and comic books everywhere. It must be Cody's room. I don't go in, afraid of getting caught snooping. Time to get changed.

I go slow, but I know I need to do what I’m told. No matter what, I need to be a good kid today. For mom. But I’m keeping my t-shirt on. I pray that I can just sit somewhere quietly while Cody does whatever swimmers named Cody do. Maybe he won’t care enough about me to make fun of me. He can do his thing. My mom can have her visit. We can leave. Please, God?

While the moms stay in the kitchen, I stand at the back door. I try to be brave. I have to go through. I have to. I step outside. AH! The sun blinds me. My eyes adjust. I see Cody. Exactly what I expected. He’s an athletic prettyboy, splashing around in the pool naturally. He’s having fun without a care in the world. Like Mrs. McCoy, he moves effortlessly and looks so happy. I’ve never been this happy in my life. I bet this Cody kid is this happy every day.

Cody stops gliding and looks at me. We just stare at each other. I take a step back when he smiles at me. Yep, he is just like his mom. I can’t move. He waves at me and says, “Hey.” I nod. He floats to the pool edge, “I’m Cody.”

I breathe in deeply and find my voice, “Ryan.”

“Wanna swim, Ryan?” I shake my head. “Oh. Can you swim?” I nod. “Then come on in.” I step forward towards the pool. Cody pushes off and dives backwards. He rolls around and goes to the bottom of the pool then back up. He zips around like a seal or something. When he stops, he looks at me. I think he’s confused that I haven’t jumped in. He asks, “What’s up?”

I just stand there like a dummy.

“You don’t wanna swim?” I shake my head. “Okay. Then what do you wanna do?”

I shrug, “I dunno.”

Cody magically floats out of the pool and glides up to me. He’s shorter, more tanned and a lot thinner. He asks, “You wanna throw the football around?”

I just shrug. Cody looks up at me. He tilts his head. I just stand there like a statue. He’s being friendly, but I’m still scared.

Finally, Cody says, “Well, you’re the guest, so I gave you a chance to decide, but if I ask two times and you don’t know what you wanna do then you have to do whatever I wanna do. Those are the rules.”

“Really?”

“Yep. I mean, we gotta do something, right?”

I think, but don’t say, “Do we? Do we really have to do something?”

Cody nods as I stand there without speaking. He thinks some more. He asks, “So, if you don’t know what you wanna do, how about you tell me what you like to do. You do like to do something, right?” He adds, “And you don’t get to just nod, shrug or say you don’t know. That’s another rule.”

I hesitate then finally say, “I like video games.”

“What kind?”

I remember his bedroom. I say, “WWL Battle Force is my favorite.” It's not, but I hope it makes me seem cool.

Cody smiles so big, “You like wrestling?” I nod, happy to have said the right thing. “On TV, too?” I nod. He says, “Ever wrestle for real?” I shake my head. “Only child?” I nod. “Yeah, I figured. I got two older brothers. They’ve been throwing me around since I was born.” I make a face, but he laughs, “No, it’s cool. Oh man, it’s so much fun.” He looks at me, “That’s it. We’re wrestling.”

“I don’t know how.”

“Yeah, you do. Everyone knows how to wrestle, but we’re gonna play around WWL-style. Let’s see. You’re Big Time Beckett. I’m Diamond Dave Dallas.” Suddenly, he lifts his bare foot to my stomach. I tense up, but it stops short. I don’t react. He rolls his eyes, “This only works if you play along, Ry.”

I like how he calls me ‘Ry’, like I’m his friend. I relax, but I feel stupid. I don’t know what he wants, but he’s nice. I want to please him. I apologize, “I’m sorry. I told you I don’t know how.”

“And I told you that you do. I’m always right about these things.”

“You are?”

“Sure. Ask anyone.”

“There’s no else here.”

“You’re funny. I like that. Now look, it’s easy. When a wrestler kicks you in the stomach with a big boot, what do you do?” I think then grab my stomach and bend forward. “Now you got it. See, you know. Just do what you see the wrestlers do. I’m not really gonna hit you, but you gotta act like I did. And I’ll do the same. Let’s try again.”

Cody kicks up again and this time, I bend forward. He grabs the bottom of my shirt and pulls it up over my face and off. He tosses it aside. I don’t have time to worry about him seeing how fat I am because he slaps his forearm down on my back. I drop down to one knee. He says, “Good job” and I smile. He slowly brings his fist to my head and I act like he hit me hard.

Suddenly, he backs off, hands up. I get scared that I’ve messed up, but he says, “Yeah, yeah, ref, no closed fists.” Oh, good. He’s still just playing.

I feel him grab my thick mop of hair and he pulls me up. He lightly punches me in the stomach. I like how he doesn’t seem to care about what I look like. I act like it really hurt. He tells me, “Perfect.” What? Me? Perfect? I’m liking this. Cody grabs my arm and twists it into an armbar. I moan like they do on TV. He slides under my arm like he’s really twisting it even more.

Cody side-kicks my stomach. I bent forward again. He pulls me up and does it again. I let out a grunt this time. He approves, telling me to ‘sell’ it. I get what he means. I moan. He grabs me in a side headlock. I push on him and keep moaning. He warns me that we’re headed into the pool. Cody runs me forward and I have to follow as he bulldogs me into the water. SPLASH!

I come up coughing. He asks if I’m okay. I push my hair out of my face and nod. I don’t want to disappoint this kid who seems to like me and not care about anything but having fun. Cody says energetically, “See, you get it. But remember, you’re Big Time. A 500-lbs giant. No way can Dallas beat you this easy. You gotta do moves, too. Don’t be scared. Can you lift me?”

I shrug, but I’m quickly getting that Cody can’t hear the word ‘no’. If he wants me to lift him, I have to at least try. I bend down in the water and try to lift Cody overhead. I kind of do, but I mainly balance him with his stomach on my head. Cody tells me that we’ll work on it then he orders me to throw him forward as hard as I can. I do it and he sinks to the bottom.

My eyes go wide as he casually floats up to the surface on his back. I’m frozen as he floats there so he whispers for me to jump on him. I do and we both sink. When we come up, he says I’m doing great. I smile. He tells me that a gorilla press and splash are classic Big Time moves, so I should do them. We discuss other moves and I know them all.

Cody asks if I’m ready to start from the beginning and try a real match all the way through. I nod. He laughs, “You’re not much of a talker, are you?” I just shrug and he assumes I’m making a joke. He laughs louder, “Funny and smart. I like you, Ry.”

I smile at that, but I wait for instructions. Cody orders me out of the pool and puts us face-to-face. He announces things just like a real match, introducing me as Big Time Ry and him as Diamond Cody Dallas. We jump into the pool together then start playing.

For the next thirty minutes, we play wrestled around. It’s so much fun. Our moms come out with drinks and snacks. My mom thinks we’re fighting and tells us to stop, but Mrs. McCoy tells her that we’re just playing. She relaxes, seeing that we’re laughing and smiling and having fun. I have Cody in a full nelson and I see my mom. She’s watching us with a big smile on her face. But what I really see is that she looks the happiest she’s looked since before dad left.

We stop to grab snacks. I’m so tired. Cody isn’t. He dries off and introduces himself to my mother. Luckily, he calls her Mrs. Bates, somehow knowing that it’s the right thing to do. He thanks her for coming and for bringing me over. When he tells her that she’s pretty and he likes her dress, my mom actually blushes. Mrs. McCoy warns her that Cody is ‘a real charmer’.

She’s right. I’m amazed because Cody talks to my mom like an adult. After five minutes, she tells him that he’s a very impressive young man. She looks at me and says that I could learn a lot from him. I nod. It’s true, but I don’t like my mom saying it. It’s like she’s insulting me.

Cody looks at me then back at my mom. He says, “Ry’s impressive, too. You must be very proud of him.”

My mom smiles, “I am. I am very proud of Ryan.” Thanks to Cody, my heart fills up and I feel good.

Cody asks if we can take the whole snack tray (!) inside and look at his comic books. Of course, they say yes. I know that Cody could ask for anything and they would say yes. And he can lead me anywhere and I will follow. Cody is the greatest, nicest, most fun kid I’ve ever met. And he likes me. He said it. I don’t understand what I’m feeling but I know I never want to leave this house. He asks me to grab the tray and we head to his room.

I don’t know much about comics. My dad always said they were a waste of money. Cody has hundreds of them and I want to know everything. If he likes comics, I love comics. He tells me all about his favorite characters and stories. They’re really cool. We even play hero (him) and villain (me). It’s just like the wrestling, but as superheroes. I don’t care. It’s fun.

My heart sinks when my mom says it’s time to go, but Cody asks if we can stay for dinner. I’m surprised when both moms agree. He really can get anything he wants. We meet his dad and brothers and they seem cool. My mom asks Cody about his friends at school. He smiles and says everyone at school is his friend. His mother laughs and says everyone loves Cody. I can believe it. I sure love him.

When we finally get home, I already miss Cody. My mom tucks me in and tells me how proud she is of me. I tell her I love her and she hugs me tightly. I can tell she’s kind of crying. I squeeze her harder and we stay like that for a while. I think it’s the best moment we’ve had for months.

The next morning, my mom says Mrs. McCoy called. Cody asked if I could come over, so she offered to watch me during the day. My heart jumps as my mom explains how nice it would be for her to know I’m in a house and having fun, but if I want to go to camp, I can. Yeah, right. I want to spend the rest of the summer at Cody’s house. I want to spend the rest of my life there! It’s awesome. I’m happy. Mom is happy.

Everything is awesome.




“Mom, can Ry sleep over Saturday night?”

“Of course, Cody. We’d love to have Ryan join us for movie night. I’ll check with his mother, but I’m sure she’ll say yes. Do you know what he’d like to watch?”

“He likes superhero movies. Just like me. Let's have a Batman marathon.”

My brother Duncan throws his head back, “No! Not again. I’m so sick of Batman.”

My mother asks, “Are you joining us?”

“No, I’m going to Mark’s then we’re going to the movies. But it’s just the idea of you sitting here watching another stupid Batman movie because Cody always gets his way. You should watch Remember the Titans or Any Given Sunday. They're the best.”

My dad ends the conversation, “Your objection is duly noted, son.”

Mom takes another bite of her salad as the dinner table goes quiet again. The only sound at the table is her crunching and four sets of teeth tearing into my dad’s perfectly grilled steaks. My mom is trying to go vegetarian, but my dad, brothers (Aiden, 16 and Duncan, 14) and me all refuse to give up meat. It’s delicious and we’re growing boys.

Even though the table is quiet, it’s nice to have all of us together. My dad has missed a lot of dinners recently, so it feels right to have all five of us at dinner again. I don’t like him not being here, especially with Ry telling me about how his dad left him and his mom. He even said that it started with his dad not being around at dinner. Ry makes me realize that I’ve kind of taken my family for granted. I don't know what I'd do if my parents broke up.

It doesn’t take long for Aiden to finish. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice he’s looking at the half a steak still on my plate. I slide it away from him before he tries to finish it for me. My brothers and me are always starving, we’re all coming from somewhere. Aiden wrestles. Duncan plays football. I play soccer. I want to wrestle, but I have to wait until high school.

My mom hates the quiet, so she tries to get me talking. My parents say that my brothers are ‘typical teenagers’ which I guess means they hate talking. She says, “I’m really glad that you and Ryan have hit it off so well.”

I swallow my food, knowing not to speak with my mouth full then nod, “Yeah, he’s great. We have a ton of fun.”

For whatever reason, Duncan decides to speak up, “Of course he likes him. Ryan does whatever Cody wants. He’s a total sycophant.”

It sounds like a criticism of my new friend, which I don’t like. “No, he’s not.” I think for a second then look at my mom, “What’s a sicko-font?”

My brother smirks, “Some evil genius. You’re too stupid to take over the world.”

“I am not.”

“At least you finally admit that you’re trying to take it over.”

I cross my arms, pouting. I finally say, “You’re just jealous.”

Duncan laughs, “Jealous? The only thing I’m jealous of is that you finally got a dog and I never did. I’ve seen you two play. Sit, Ryan, sit. Roll over. Good boy.”

My mother says, “That’s enough, Duncan. Ryan is a nice young man. It’s nice that he and your brother have so much in common.”

“I’m not saying he’s not a nice kid. I’m just saying that we all see how Cody controls him like a big fat puppet. Here’s Ryan.” He puffs out his cheeks and sticks out his stomach as he moves his arms up and down like one of those puppets with strings, “Yes, sir, Mr. Cody. Whatever you say, Mr. Cody. His spine is as soft as his ginormous stomach.”

I put my fork down, “Don’t you call him names! Take it back!”

“No, because it’s true. He’s 10 and he weighs more than me.”

My mom scolds, “Duncan! I’m ashamed of you. Apologize for insulting Cody’s friend.”

My brother stares down my mother. She seems nice, but she can lay down the hammer if she has to. He reluctantly says, “I’m sorry for insulting him.” He quietly adds as he glares at me, “And I’m sorry your best friend is a spineless blob of goo.”

My father puts down his fork. Like my mom, he’s usually chill, but disobeying or disrespecting my mom or him is something you just don’t do in our house. It doesn’t pay to be too clever around here. My parents work hard to teach us to be humble, accept everyone and judge no one.

Without my dad saying a word, Duncan holds up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I shouldn’t have insulted him. It was wrong. You taught me better than that.”

My mom nods, “I hope we did. We’re a very lucky family, but that doesn’t make us better than anyone else.”

Duncan says, “I know. But you have to admit that he just does do whatever Cody wants. He’s got no mind of his own.” He looks across the table at Aiden beside me, “Back me up, A!”

Aiden looks around the table then at Duncan, “You’re on your own, Dunk. I’m not getting involved. I think Ryan’s a nice kid.”

I smile broadly, “Thanks, A. That's why you’re my favorite brother.” I slide my plate towards Aiden and he immediately stabs my remaining steak, moving it to his plate. I stick out my tongue at Duncan, letting him know he's a jerk.

Aiden puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. He says to me, “Thanks, little bro. When you do take over the world, just remember that I always had your back.” He adds, “All hail Overlord Cody.”

My parents and Duncan repeat in unison, “All hail Overlord Cody.”

Everyone, except me, laughs. It’s been a joke in our house since I was 8 that I will one day take over the world. I guess because people like me and I sometimes get my way. My parents say that I just know how to read people and situations. I don’t know about that, but I do know that I’m the good son in the house, not because I do nothing wrong, but because I know how to do wrong things in the right way.

I normally laugh at the joke, but not tonight. Tonight, it isn’t being said as a joke. It’s an insult to Ryan and to me. I like Ryan because he’s smart and funny and likes everything I like. Not because he does whatever I say. I mean, he’s had a bad time and it’s made him shy and nervous, but he's cool once you get to know him. He just needs a push every so often, like when we met. I’m helping him, not controlling him.

Ryan and me are a team, like Batman and Robin. Batman isn’t an evil genius for telling his sidekick what to do. He’s doing it because he knows best. And Robin isn’t a wimp because he does what Batman says. He’s just smart enough to know Batman is always right. Robin’s still a great hero. Not as great as Batman, but no one is as great a hero as Batman. No one.

I’m obviously upset, so of course Duncan makes it worse. He leans forward and sticks out his bottom lip, mocking me. “Evil geniuses don’t sulk, Cody. Look, I think it’s great that you found the first follower for your cult. You had to start somewhere.”

Something in me just snaps, “SHUT UP! I’m not evil! You’re just jealous because Ry’s bigger than you are and you can’t bully him! Because that’s all you are! A big stupid bully!”

I stomp off to my room and close my door hard. SLAM! I hop on my bed and grab a comic book. I flip through the pages, not really reading, just for something to calm me down. Oh, I like this issue. Batman is saving the day with Nightwing by his side. Nightwing was Robin, but he grew up. Just like it’ll be when me and Ry grow up. I’ll still be Batman, but he can be my Nightwing.

My dad comes in. He sits beside me on the bed, but he doesn’t say anything. We flip through the comic together. When we get to the end, he says, “What’s up, champ?”

“I don’t only like Ry because he does what I say.”

“I know. It was just a joke.”

“It’s not funny.”

“Cody, you’re a very special boy. Things have gone your way in life. But they won’t always. You need to learn that you can’t run away from conflict. If you’re mad at someone or someone is mad at you, you need to stay and deal with it. Calmly and rationally. Running away is the easy way, but it’s not the right way.”

“Okay.”

“Is the evil genius thing really why you’re upset? If you’re mad about something else, you can always tell me. You can always ask me anything.”

I put the comic aside and look up at my dad, “You’ve missed dinner a lot lately. Where have you been?”

My dad leans back and looks at me with a smirk, “That’s a weird thing for my 10-year old son to ask.” When I just stare back, he nods, “Okay. There’s a huge sales conference coming up. Because of my promotion, Daddy has to get on a stage in front of thousands of people and talk about how he’s going to sell the company’s new medication.”

“Wow. Are you scared?”

“No, because I’m going to be prepared. If you work hard, invest the time and you’re prepared, there’s no reason to be scared. You can do anything.”

“You’re just like Batman. He prepares for everything.”

“Yes, son, I’m just like Batman.” He rubs my head, “But it takes a lot of work to be Batman and that means late nights. I hate missing dinners, but I’m doing this for you and mom and your brothers. To provide you guys with a better life.”

I nod then ask bluntly, “Would you ever leave us?”

“Wow, you’re a fast learner. Okay, I did say you should ask if something is bothering you. No, I will never leave you. But why would you even ask that? Have I done something? Did I miss a soccer game or something?”

“No. But Ry’s dad missed dinner a lot. Now he never sees him.”

“Oh, I see. Did Ryan make you suspicious?”

“No, he never says much about anything. He’s the strong silent type. He doesn’t even know that you missed dinner eight times in the past two weeks.” I think about it, “I think Ry is the type who runs away. He’s never told his dad how mad he is at him.”

“Well, that’s not good. He shouldn’t hold anger inside. It’s bound to come out at some point and probably in an unhealthy way. Look, your mom told me about Mr. and Mrs. Bates. Nothing like that is happening here. After 18 years of marriage, your mom and I love each other more than ever. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

I snuggle against my dad, feeling safe. “Ry hates his dad.”

“I doubt that. Hate’s a powerful word.”

“I know, but he does. He hates him.” I tell him, “I don’t think I could ever hate you like that. I don’t think I could ever hate anyone like that.”

“That’s a good attitude to have, son. Ryan is lucky to have you as a friend.” My dad pulls me closer and side-hugs me. I feel better. I was upset, but as quickly as it happened, it’s gone away, just from talking about it. He says, “How about, instead of movies, I take you and Ryan out Saturday night before your big sleepover? Just us three guys. Phillies are in town.”

“Thanks, dad. But you know, EWPA has a show that night, too. Rick Rage will be there.”

“You’d rather go to pro wrestling than baseball?” I nod. He says, “Okay, but what about Ryan? He’s our guest.”

“It’s cool. I know that he’ll wanna go to wrestling, too.”

“Okay, I’ll look into tickets, but you still need to ask him, Cody.” As he rubs my arm, my dad asks, “Want to come back and have dessert?”

“No, but I wanna apologize. I owe everyone an apology. Especially Dunk.”

My dad rubs my hair, “You are a very special boy, Dakota McCoy.”



“I don’t want to do this.”

“Come on, Ry. You’ve been saying that about literally everything since the day we met. By now, you should know that I’m always right and you will end up loving it. We’ve been working for two years to get to this point. We’re ready. We’re doing this. It’ll be fun.”

I stand my ground, unwilling to move. I’m 6’2”/260-lbs. He’s 5’10”/160-lbs. Cody can’t move me if I don’t want to be moved. And I don’t want to be moved. Not that he even bothers trying. My best friend never tries to use physical force to get me to do anything because he thinks he can always talk me into it. I’m supposed to be the brainiac, but he’s deceptively smart. Cody’s got this annoying way of always being just as smart as he needs to be.

We just stand in the parking lot, looking from each other to the warehouse and back. Like always, Cody looks smug with his trademark little smirk on his face. He’s been smirking at me for six years, so sure that I’ll give in to him. I always do. But not this time. Not this time. How many times have I said that? Every single time. And how many times have I been wrong? Every single time.

Cody and I are best friends, but in no way are we equals. He’s the most popular guy in school. Good looking. Athletic. Charming. Cody’s the biggest big fish in our small pond back in Parkside. Even though we’ll only be juniors come fall, he’s already dated a couple of members of the senior wrestling team, even accompanying the star heavyweight to his senior prom. Everybody knows Cody. Everybody loves Cody. Including me, which is how he controls me.

I’ve found my own niche in the computer lab, our school radio station and behind-the-scenes with the drama department. But it’s Cody who gets me into the ‘cool’ crowd. I admit that I draft off his popularity, but not intentionally. It’s just that we’re best friends and best friends hang out together. Most often, that means joining him at some party where he’s the center of attention and I hang out in the corner. But not always.

One of the things that makes Cody such a good friend is that he supports whatever I’m doing, just like I do for him. Many a ‘cool’ kid has sat through one of our plays because Cody was coming and they wanted to be where he was. And my ... less popular friends love him for it, too. After all, if he likes me, he can’t be a stereotypical snob, right? He fills the seats and makes sure everyone claps and cheers. If they don’t, he’ll notice and they’ll be ‘out’.

Today is different, though. Cody isn’t dragging me to some party. He’s dragging me to an independent pro wrestling promotion. He’s found one that will train 16-year olds and he wants to be trained. We’ve been working hard for the past two years on our own, training using online videos and articles. We wrestle all the time, but Cody wants more. And Extreme Wrestling PA is it. We’ve gone to several EWPA shows and they’re fun, but the wrestlers are men. We’re boys.

I admit it. I’m scared.

Cody starts stretching out in the parking lot. I finally say, “You’re not going to say anything?”

“Nope.”

I sigh, “You’re so cocky.” Cody says nothing. “Tell your dad I took the bus home.” My best friend just looks at me, daring me to go. I take one step, but the sun is blistering and I hate the idea of spending an hour on the bus instead of an air-conditioned gym. I admit, “Fine. I’ll go in with you. But I’m not wrestling. I’ll just watch you train.”

“Okay.”

His smirk gets bigger. He’s won again. We meet Wayne, the trainer and run moves. Yes, me too. It’s weird, being in a real ring, but he’s impressed at how much we already know. Cody picks up the moves faster, but I do well, too. Now that Wayne knows we aren’t going to kill ourselves and that we’re serious, he agrees that we can join EWPA as trainees, not wrestlers.

Cody asks, “Why?”

Wayne explains that we’re too young to be in shows. Cody nods, but I can tell the wheels in his brain are turning. In the car ride home, Cody admits that he’s got no intention of waiting two years before we can wrestle in a show. “We’re almost ready now. We’ll be good enough in three months, tops.” His father tells him to be patient and that it probably makes sense to mature a little more, but I know my best friend better than that.

We end up going two nights a week, but we continuously practice things at home. Everyone thinks everything comes so easily to Cody, but behind the scenes, he works his ass off. When Cody wants something, he will work harder than anyone to make it happen. I wish I had his drive. He never takes ‘no’ for an answer and he never stops until he’s achieved his objective.

When his objective is helping someone, it’s great. He’s a champion fundraiser and organizer at school. He’s the guy people go to when they’re being bullied. He’s the guy who sends people to me when they’re failing. But for Cody, helping is also a broad concept. It doesn’t require the recipient of his help to actually ask for or even want it. I’m usually the prime example of that.

Come fall, we keep going to the EWPA after school, two days a week. These practices are with the real pro wrestlers. They aren’t exactly supportive, but they aren’t actively hostile. It’s more like they’re disinterested in a couple of suburban kids that they figure are just playing around. I’ll be kind and just say that most of the wrestlers have dreams and don’t have time for us.

Cody and I end up working together a lot. And we’re always the bottom of the heap. Everyone else does their work then we get our shot when they’re done. We’re nailing the moves, but no one is really paying attention. Cody has had enough of being ignored. He isn’t used to it, doesn’t like the feeling and, despite what the wrestlers think, this isn’t a game to him.

We’re sitting at lunch when Cody gives me a list of moves he thinks we know. He’s arranged them into a logical order where one goes into another and he’s filled gaps with submission holds we’ve been doing since we were 10. I look it over and nod, “This would make a good match. You going to show this to Wayne?”

“I’m not showing the list to anyone except you. We’re going to show the moves to all of them. For real.”

“What?”

“They don’t want to give us respect? We're going to earn our way onto the next show. I hope you don’t have any plans because we’re going to practice this all weekend. On Tuesday, we’re going run this match perfectly at the end of the night.”

“What? We can’t do that!”

“Why not?” I have no answer to that. He sits back and smirks, “Exactly.”

Practice comes and I am terrified. Not that anyone notices or cares. The monthly show is this weekend, so everyone is working on their biggest and best moves. As the name Extreme implied, the guys are always thinking up crazy ‘extreme’ stuff to do. Chairs will be used. Tables will be smashed. Thumbtacks. Lego. Barbed wire. Blood will be drawn. Injuries likely sustained. Yuck. I’m glad that we’re just young trainees.

As usual, we get alone time in the ring with Wayne at the end of the night. We’re working on suplexes. Our trainer compliments us, but he’s pretty distracted. He leaves us alone in the ring to help some of the other guys get ready for Saturday.

Cody whispers, “Go time. Let’s show these guys what we can do.”

Before I can react, Cody loudly picks a fake fight with me. I have no choice but to go along. We’ve rehearsed and practiced so hard there’s no backing out. We’re shoving and running through some great mic work. Outside the ring, guys take notice. Wayne tells us to break it up. That’s the cue. I shove Cody harder and he flies backwards to the corner. CLANG!

I run in fast, splashing on top of my best friend. SPLAT! The wrestlers let out loud gasps. I back up and drag Cody from the corner. He reaches up and grabs my wrist, reversing it into an armbar then a hammerlock. He runs me shoulder first into the corner. CLANG! Now the guys are confused. They realize this is a work and they’ve been duped.

As we run our choreographed moves, no one tries to stop us. No one looks away, either. No one leaves. Cody is right. He was tired of paying money to be ignored, but we definitely aren’t being ignored tonight. I use my size and power to dominate, but of course Cody booked himself to win. He gets me in a crossface chicken wing. It pays off all the arm and shoulder work that he’d built into the match.

When we finish, the guys actually clap. Cody thanks them for the training, saying he’s learned so much from watching them. I hang back, exhausted. I just nod along as he gives all of them the credit for our hard work, even though they’ve mainly ignored us. He even says he can’t wait to see them all in the WWL. My jaw drops as Cody gives his speech and wins over a crowd of tattooed tough guys. Damn. No one is immune to his charms.

Except maybe Vic, the owner of EWPA.

Vic comes over, pissed that we went rogue, but even he has to admit it was good. Cody asks if it’s good enough to be on a show. The answer is ‘no’, but not because we aren’t good enough. Because we’re 16 and we have to be 18. Cody just nods and I can’t believe he’ll let it go. He doesn’t. He casually (but loudly) mentions how everyone at school will be disappointed. He was hoping they could all see us in action.

Snake, one of the veteran wrestlers overhears. He asks, “Hey, kid. How many people you talking about?” The wrestlers are paid a share of gate and make money taking pictures and selling merchandise. The more people, the more money for them.

Cody just smirks, “How many tickets you got?”

Snake says in his gruff, raspy voice, “Put ‘em on the card, Vic.”




“Dustin.”

The football star shuts up and turns. His eyes go wide, shocked to see me standing there. He looks like a deer caught in headlights. Dustin manages a smile and comes up close to me, hoping I didn’t hear what he was just saying, “Hey Cody. You ready for Saturday night?”

“Are you kidding? After what you’ve been saying? After what I just heard?”

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

“So, in addition to being a gossipy bitch, you’re also a liar?”

“Cody, seriously, I don’t understand.”

“Well understand this, I’m not going out with you this Saturday or any other Saturday.”

As I turn away, Dustin grabs my arm, “Don’t walk away from me!”

I spin around, grabbing his arm and twisting it into a hammerlock. I slam the all-state tight end face first into the lockers. BAM! He struggles, but I put my forearm against the back of his head. I lift the hammerlock higher up his back and he cries out. I have him locked in tight and he’s going nowhere unless I let him. The other people in the hall freeze in shock.

I lean forward onto his back and warn him, “Don’t you ever touch me without permission.”

I release him and back up. Dustin isn’t accustomed to being manhandled. Or humiliated in front of a crowd. He’s a strong guy and getting stronger. I’m pretty sure he’s started steroids to bulk up for college ball because he’s earned a full scholarship. I can tell that he wants to take a swing at me, but I’ve put enough doubt into his mind that he hesitates. Teachers gather, observing. He suddenly realizes that he has a lot more to lose than a date.

Dustin’s fists open up and he relaxes, asking calmly, “Can we talk about this?”

I don’t want to, but when you have a conflict, you have to talk it out. I follow him into the bathroom. As we walk, I wonder why I ever accepted a date with him. Well, I know why. He’s a sexy, beefy football player. Almost every guy and girl at school wants a date with him, but he’s been pursuing me since Jason’s Labor Day weekend pool party. He did look good in a swimsuit and clearly thought the same about me.

I held out a long time, but I need to think about senior prom. I'm most likely to be elected Prom King,  so I've decided to try out a few superstar candidates worthy of the honor of being on my arm. I admire Dustin’s commitment to football and he is definitely high-profile. He’d be perfect and he always seemed nice. I know why. Because he wants a hot fuck. Not that I don’t, but no fuck or prom date is more important to me than Ry.

Dustin peels off his shirt and moves towards me with a sexy look. I back up, rejecting him. He says, “Cody, I don’t know what you think you heard, but I apologize. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Dustin.

“What the fuck did Ry ever do to you? Why are you badmouthing him?”

Dustin explains, still hoping to get our date back on, “I seriously didn’t mean anything. You know what high school is like. Everyone says something bad about someone else at some point. It’s no big deal.”

“I don’t talk bad about other people.”

The hunk rolls his eyes at me, “That’s because you’re fucking perfect. Not all of us can live up to your standards, Cody. Some of us are human.”

“What? I’m not a human?”

“No, you’re a fucking god. And don’t act like you don’t love it. Yeah, maybe I said something shitty about your friend, but it’s your fault, too. You drag him everywhere, even places he isn’t wanted. Make us all worship him, like he wasn’t a -” He stops himself. “Sometimes it’s just too much. I may be a gossipy bitch, but you can be a controlling egomaniac.”

I just stare at him, “Well, if I’m so terrible then why did you ask me out?”

Dustin gives me a sexy look, “Why do you think? Because I’m a guy and you’re you. Look at you, man.” He moves into me, “You’re THE stud around here, Cody. Handsome. With a rockin’ body. That huge dick. Sweet ass. I wanna be your man. And I want you to be mine. We’d be the biggest power couple in the history of this school.”

I ask, “Is that all I am to you?” Yes, I know I’m being a hypocrite about this, but he doesn’t know that. And remember, he badmouthed Ry. Some things are more important than prom.

“You’re an awesome guy to me. You are a fucking god around here and you deserve to be. The cool guy who still defends the defenseless and is friend to the friendless. You’re one of a kind.” He looks deep into my eyes, “You’re the kind of guy I want to be.”

“Really.”

“Look, I’m sorry I ever said anything about Ryan. I’ll never do it again. The fact that you’re friends with a guy like him says a lot about you.”

I sigh, “You were so close, but that’s so insulting to him. Let me be clear. I’m not friends with Ry out of charity. He’s smart. Funny. And a nice guy, too.”

“Yeah, you like nice guys, don’t you? I can be a nice guy. With your help. Teach me to be good, Cody. And I’ll teach you how to be bad.” Dustin reaches behind my head and pulls me into a kiss. It’s really good. He leans back, “We’d be so good together. C’mon, forgive me?”

I keep control, “Two minutes ago you were ready to punch me.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. But that was a sweet move you used on me. I’ll let you do it again.”

“You didn’t ‘let’ me do it the first time.”

“Fuck, Cody, ease up. Yeah, I did something bad, but where’s the forgiveness? I’m even saying you can punish me for it.” Dustin drops his jeans to his ankles. He spreads his arms out, “I’m at your mercy. What more do you want from me?”

Damn, he’s gorgeous and I know he’d be an incredible fuck and boyfriend. But this isn’t about that. This is about Ry. I manage to say confidently, “Everything you’re saying is still just about getting us to fuck. If you’re sincere about being good then show me. There’s lots of time left in the year. You change for real and I’ll give you another chance.”

We go back and forth in circles. I tell him to be a better person, but he just doesn't get it. I finally restate my offer as an ultimatum - change and we'll see. I leave the football stud stunned as he stands in his underwear in the bathroom.

I ask Ry to hang out on Saturday. He questions me, but I tell him Dustin cancelled. He questions that, saying that he heard that I broke it off. He says that the rumor is that Dustin and I got into a fight. I just shrug, “Can’t always believe rumors.”

Ryan and me end up driving to Harrisburg for an indie pro wrestling show. It’s fun and we see a few guys we know. We’re still training and doing one show a month, but only for EWPA in Philadelphia. Weekends are too precious and I’ve realized that I don’t want to be a full-time pro wrestler. I want to help people. I want to be a personal trainer and I’ve been accepted into a really good kinesiology program at the University of California, Los Angeles. Coincidentally, Ryan has chosen to do something with computers at Cal Tech, so we’ll be pretty close.

We come back to hang out and wrestle in my basement, which is all mine with my brothers out of the house in college. Wrestling with Ry is a lot tougher than it used to be. He’s a lot bigger than me now. I only stand a chance because he doesn’t have a ton of endurance. One day, when I’m a personal trainer, I’m going to help him lose all this weight and get strong and fit. But for now, it is what it is.

We start out having fun. I can outlast him, but that’s not always enough. When he gets tired, which is often, his strategy is to lie down on me and make me move his bulk. As long as I can avoid that, I’m fine. Still, I like the challenge and we’re having fun. Or at least, I think we are.

Ryan is on his back with me on top, struggling to escape his full nelson. I can feel his hard-on under me, pressing into my back and butt, but it’s no big deal. I’m working hard to escape when he suddenly starts breathing weird then he lets out a strange moan and just lets me go. I roll off, but immediately move to check on him. I’ve never heard him like that.

As I move in to see if he’s okay, Ryan tries to turn away. I see big wet streaks from pre-cum. Or maybe cum? Oh wow, he might’ve shot in his briefs. He sees me see him and he gets flustered. I offer that I have a spare pair of his wrestling trunks somewhere, but he looks away. Before I can say anything, he gets up and runs to the bathroom. I call out to him, but he tells me that he’s fine. I hear the shower running. Yep, he shot. Good for him. I wait patiently, flipping through the channels.

When Ry comes back, he’s showered and holding his boxer briefs. I’m surprised when he starts to get dressed. “Oh, we done wrestling?”

“Sorry, Cody, but I didn’t realize the time. I need to go.”

I’m surprised, “What? Why?”

“I’m kinda tired and I need to do some chores around the house.”

“Ry -”

“I’ll talk to you Monday.”

I grab his shoes and put them behind my back, “Ry, stay. Don’t run off. Let’s talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m just tired and my mom has chores.”

“You’re lying. Is it because you got excited wrestling? It happens to everyone.” Ry just stares at me. I tell him, “Don’t run away. You can’t go like this. If something is wrong, we need to talk about it. Did I do something wrong?”

“Please, just let me leave with a shred of dignity left. I’m so humiliated, Cody.” I sit on the sofa and make him join me. He drops down beside me, “Can you put some clothes on, please?”

What's wrong with my underwear?

I look down. I’m wearing underwear. Ry usually never minds me walking around naked or nearly naked. I shrug. If it keeps him around, I’ll do it. Ry isn’t the talk through your problems type, so I know I need to go slowly with him. I make him promise not to move then go into my room. I grab a bathrobe, the fastest way to get covered up. I come back and sit down beside him.

“What’s going on, Ry? I told you, everyone gets a hard-on wrestling at some point. Even the pros. You know that.”

“You never do.”

“Of course, I do.”

“Not with me.”

“I’m sure I have.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“Maybe you just didn’t notice.” He looks at me like I’m crazy. Okay, I admit it, there’s no way he wouldn’t have noticed with the size of my cock. “Well, maybe not, but I didn’t realize that you were keeping track. What difference does it make?”

“Because I love you, Cody.”

“I love you, too.”

My best friend looks away, saying softly, “Not like I love you. Guys like you never love guys like me. Not the way I like you, at least.”

I’m stunned. I grab him under the chin and make him look at me, “That’s not true.”

“I see the guys you date. You love me like a friend. I love you ... more than that.”

“Oh, Ry, you’re so wrong if you think you love me more than I love you. I love you like my very own brother.” I pause and joke, “It’s like I have three older brothers, not two.”

“I’m only like a month older than you.”

“Older is older.” Ry smiles. I tell him, “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Nothing. No fight I wouldn’t fight. No sacrifice I wouldn’t make. And no problem I won’t find a way to solve. That’s how much I love you. I will always have your back and do what’s right for you. Always.”

“I know that and I get it. We are family. Your dad is like a dad to me. A and Dunk are like my very own brothers. You’re the best friend a guy can have, but you know what I mean.”

“Look, I admit that I don’t think of you in that way, but I could never think of A or Dunk in that way, either. I’m so so sorry. I’m sorry that I never realized it wasn’t the same for you.”

“It is the same. But it’s also not.” Ry sighs and leans back on the sofa, looking at the ceiling. He thinks for a long time, looking for words. He finally says, “I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m lonely and frustrated and I’m putting it all on you. All the talk tonight about your six-month search for the perfect prom date just made me realize that no one is searching for me.”

I think then slide down onto one knee and ask, “Ry, will you go to prom with me?”

He covers his face with his hands, “Oh god. A pity invite from my brother? No, Cody, that’s definitely not the answer. I’ll just go alone or with a friend. Teresa is hinting to go with me.”

I slide back up beside him, “Cool. She’s a lot of fun.”

My best friend looks at me like I’m crazy again, “She’s also a girl. I’ll be 18 at the end of April. Do you realize that I’m still a virgin?” I open my mouth, but he says, “No, what happened tonight does NOT count. I’m a virgin and that’s not changing. Not tonight. Not in the next six months. And not on prom night if I go with a girl.”

I rub his shoulder, “Well, I’ve heard that there are guys that like having sex with girls. You could try it. Maybe you’re a closeted straight guy and just haven’t realized it?”

“Be serious. Face it, you can drag me to all the parties and events you want, but it’s never going to change who or what I am. No one wants me. That’s why I always go home alone.”

I tense up at Ry using Dustin’s language about me dragging him places. I don’t do that. We continue to talk and we agree that what happened isn’t about him loving me, but about his loneliness. I tell him that I can get him laid, if that’s what he wants, but it isn’t really about sex. Ry wants to feel loved and lovable. Not as a son, brother or friend, but as a man. It breaks my heart that he doesn’t, but I really don’t know what to do about it.

Ry spends the night at my place. We stay up and talk, getting back to a normal place, but his problem never leaves my head. While we go on about whether the Iron Man movie will be any good or not and what kind of crazy person will ever want to read comics on their computer when paper is soooo much better, my brain is quietly working away.

I’m determined to help Ryan. After all, who’s a better choice than me? He obviously doesn’t have a clue how to get a guy. Besides being his best friend, I’m smart, connected and an expert in being loved and being lovable. It’ll just be another area where I can help him grow, learn and become more capable, no different than literally everything else in our lives.

Prom is my first deadline to find Ryan somebody who’ll like him for him. Hm. I quickly think of a guy who might be perfect. There’s a wrestler in the EWPA who’d be a great date for him. He’s big and fun and a tuxedo would cover his poorly planned ink. He’s 20, so maybe he wasn’t interested in underage Ry, but my buddy will be 18 in April. Maybe all they need is a push. Hm.

Batman is officially on the case.



“And what exactly do you know about online video distribution, Cody?”

“Nothing.” My best friend smiles at me over his kale salad with his seductive and devilish grin, “But you do.”

I put down my fork and sigh. “Cody, what you’re talking about will take a lot of work. I’ll be slammed with my Masters program. And aren’t you going to be busy hustling for clients? Have you researched how little personal trainers make when they first start out?”

“I have. That’s why I need another source of income. It’s not like it’ll take much time. I’m already wrestling all the time. We can monetinize it.”

I correct him, “Monetize.”

“Exactly. I’ll be in charge of what’s in front of the camera. I just need you to manage behind the camera. Film the matches and post them online with a way to pay. Just downloads, no DVDs, so it’ll be easy.”

I laugh, “Oh, is that all? Yeah, that’s easy.”

Cody gives me an exasperated look, like I’m being difficult, “I hear that sarcastic tone, but I always have more faith in your abilities than you do. For the 11 years we’ve known each other, you’ve had doubts and for 11 years, I’ve helped you overcome them. Trust me. You can do it. This will be amazing.”

“Uh huh. You’ll need more than flattery to convince me.” Cody sticks out his tongue at me. I say, “Here’s a better idea. Why don’t you just wrestle for one of the existing gay wrestling video companies? You’re ripped enough for Lightning’s Ring, skilled enough for BIGBeast and hot enough for Stone Cold Wrestling. They’d all love to have you.”

“Of course, they would, but I want to build something with my best friend. Our own thing, Ry. You and me. We’d own it. Control it. Have it for the future. I can’t do this without you, but you know what? I don’t want to even try to do this without you. We can make something amazing together. The Dynamic Duo. Batman and Robin, just like always. I believe. Do you believe?”

“I do not.”

Cody frowns, “Why not?”

“I notice you left out a few little things like talent, legal, accounting, insurance, and a location. And those are just off the top of my head. Oh, wait. How about a name, logo and general graphic design? Video editing and sound? And who’s going to post all the pictures and write descriptions? Who’s going to troubleshoot technical issues? How are we going to promote the matches? Who’s even going to buy them?”

Cody waves me off, like those are trifling details. Since moving to Los Angeles, his ego has grown exponentially, along with a trail of sexual conquests and broken hearts. Yes, he was a big fish in a small pond back home, but he has somehow managed to become one of the biggest fishes in one of the biggest ponds in the world. Cody is even more popular in LA than he was in Parkside. Let’s just say that I was not shocked when he announced that this was now his permanent home.

I have to admit that here, life seems limitless for him. My best friend is determined to test that theory every single day. He’s still remarkably hot, but in LA, 90% of guys are hot. There are certainly tons of guys just as gorgeous and tons of guys even more so. There are guys just as charming. Just as fun. Just as ambitious. Even his massive dick isn’t completely unique, although it does give him a leg up (no pun intended) on most guys.

Despite all the competition, Cody is thriving. He has great friends and contacts, picks up the hottest hunks and leaves them in the dust without any remorse or repercussions. His innate ability to navigate situations and make people love him is still working for him. He’s wrestling all the time and he’s really good at it. I’m amazed how skilled he’s become. Despite me being over 100-lbs heavier and four inches taller, I can’t keep up with him at all.

I have noticed a shift in my best friend’s personality. Without the tether of his parents to keep him grounded, he’s more self-centered and more narcissistic. He never intends to be mean or rude. He’s never judgmental or discriminatory. He’s open and welcoming to all, but he’s just so thoughtless and oblivious to the feelings of others. That’s not true. He’s very aware of others’ feelings, but only in the context of his own desires and how he can use their feelings to satisfy his needs.

LA Cody is all about LA Cody.

One thing that hasn’t changed is our friendship. We live 20 minutes apart with no traffic (although there’s always traffic). Cody always makes time for me and when we’re together, he is the same Cody I know and love. Even this wrestling video stuff is classic Cody. But I can see the difference with others. He drags me to his clubs and guides me past snobby bouncers and irate lines of wannabes. I see a world that most 6’4”, 300-lbs obese computer geeks usually never see unless they’re billionaire tech moguls. But it’s not a world I want to be a part of.

As we discuss his big idea, his LA ego is on full display. Nothing is impossible for him and he can’t conceive of failure. He’s grown so used to everything going his way that he just assumes this will just happen. He’s determined that he will start a wrestling video company aimed at gay wrestling fans. For all his gifts, he’s right that he can’t do it without me. I hold all the cards and if I’m as smart as everyone says I am, I will say no and send him off to Boston for the weekend to join the BIGBeast roster instead.

Apparently, I am not as smart as everyone says. As usual, Cody gets his way with me. We start working on plans. It has to get done before school starts again. One of the first hurdles is, of course, content. My best friend always wrestles hot guys, but things actually get harder than he expected. It’s one thing to roll around his apartment with the promise of amazing sex after the match, but now, he has to convince them to do it in front of a camera for very little money. Let’s just say that not every guy wants to be a wrestling porn star, even for Cody. And the porn stars expect to be paid more than we can afford.

While Cody hustles his ass off to get guys to take the leap, I do double duty, working out all the logistics of how to run a gay-oriented wrestling video company and working hard at my summer job. I go nuts, but I think I’ve lucked out. Cody is really struggling with the talent issue. Maybe even his superhuman manipulation skills have limits. Could I be this lucky?

I’m not that lucky. Cody calls me to tell me he’s figured it out and I need to come over right away. Damn. You know, I should know by now that if you put my luck against Cody’s luck, his will always win out. It always has and it always will. He’s somehow thought of an idea to solve the talent issue all on his own without any help from me. That’s the problem with Cody. He always has a plan and he can always be just as smart as he needs to be.

As I sit on his sofa, he comes out of the bedroom, asking me, “What do you think?”

Cody stands in front of me in small gray trunks, black knee pads and black pro wrestling boots. His stuffed trunks and knee pads have a shiny black ‘bat’ icon on them. Over his head, he wears a cowl, just like his favorite superhero. I just stare, unsure what to think much less say.

Cody looks great ... but
it's too early for Halloween.

I finally settle on, “You look incredible.”

“I know, right? I can’t believe that I didn’t think of this earlier.”

“Think of what?”

“This!”

I take it all in, trying to understand what he’s showing me. My best friend looks incredible, but I don’t get it. I tell him, “I don’t get it.”

“Masks. Superheroes. Villains. Our site will be the only gay-oriented, superhero-themed wrestling video company in existence. We’ll call it The Cave and it’ll star me as The Bat. Pretty cool, huh? I finally get to be Batman and kick some villain ass. And with masks and new identities, guys can have all the anonymity they want. They’ll have secret identities.”

I nod, “Huh.” My mind races as he twirls around, admiring himself in the full-length mirror leaning against the wall. I finally say, “Other places have tried the superhero thing. They ... haven’t exactly succeeded.”

“Because they didn’t have me. Or you. Guys who get it, you know?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, we’re gonna find out. I’ve lined up three guys already. I just need to get them the right gear. Shouldn’t take more than a couple of weeks. I know there are guys who’ll wanna buy these videos, Ry. I know it.” Cody flexes in front of me. He does look good in his skimpy Bat gear. He suddenly looks at me and smirks.

“What?”

He points at my tenting shorts, “And you obviously know it, too. We post a few images and guys will be all over it.” He slithers forward and onto my lap facing me. His ass rests on my thick thighs as he grabs my shoulders and squeezes. He does look amazing. My best friend runs his fingers through my thick overgrown hair and I shiver a little.

Cody confidently says, “We’re on our way. Ry. This is going to be so great.”




“Sometimes, I amaze myself, Ry.”

“Only sometimes? You’re slipping.”

I stick my tongue out at my best friend as I adjust my gear. I squat in my black trunks with the red Bat icon on them. I shift my cowl, making sure that I can see and that it’s tight, but not too tight. I snap on a gold utility belt that hangs low with the buckle resting on my bulge. And my last bit of costuming is a large temporary tattoo in a Bat-shaped logo applied across my pecs. Genius. I catch myself in the mirror. Damn, I look great.

Ryan is playing with the camera and lighting as I start to stretch. I notice he’s filming me and I realize his instinct to focus on my body is right on. Of course, we should capture my warm up. I aim my bulge at him and start stretching in a sexier way. I add in some flexing as I bend and stretch, thrusting my ass and huge package towards him. Get it all, buddy.

My best friend circles and gives me a big thumbs up. I keep going, playing to the camera as I shift from stretching to pumping up with pushups then bicep curls. Behind me is a black drape with The Cave logo on it and the wrestling mat is black. I’m hoping it brands things and makes it feel less like an apartment living room and more like a, well, cave. Plus, my tanned white body pops against it, showing off all the muscle I’ve built to make myself a 6’/195-lbs masterpiece.

The first Cave match. I breathe in deeply. I bounce and swing my arms like a swimmer. I’m nervous but determined. I’ve wrestled Craig before, but never like this. He’s a bodybuilder with good wrestling instincts. He’s hot. He’ll be awesome. At 32 and 5’8”/200-lbs, he’s older and shorter than me, but more solid and wrestler-like. He’s sexy as fuck and solid as a rock.

Since this is the first Cave match, I want a classic villain, but I don’t want to use any character who’s too famous or cool. If it doesn’t go right, I don’t want to keep recasting. And people expect certain things from a Joker or Bane that we’re not ready for. When we get a ring to wrestle in instead of a living room, and we will, we can debut the heavy hitters.

Craig has rich caramel skin, a dark beard and thick black hair. Ryan’s old drama club connections have paid off. One of his friends is here working for a visual effects company. He’s hooked us up with some supplies, like my temporary tattoo and professional hair coloring for Craig. We’ve added some gray into his facial hair and at the temples. Perfect.

The Bat is facing a Ra’s Al Ghul copy that we’re calling The Immortal. He comes out of the bedroom, freshly showered and decked out in his gear. Fuck, he’s awesome. All dark green with gold trim on his trunks, a mask glued around his eyes and cloak with gold trim and a big hood. It’s fastened with gold amulets. It's a pricey look, but it’s worth it. You can’t go cheap on the first match.

The Immortal.

Ryan films Craig - sorry, The Immortal - once he hits the black curtain. I’ll have to get used to switching from calling guys by their names to their Cave identities. The Immortal. The Immortal. The Immortal. And I’m The Bat. There’s no Cody or Craig until the cameras stop rolling.

The Immortal dramatically flexes his powerful body. Good bodybuilders are used to posing and telling a story with their muscle. They know how to pose and excite a crowd. If only we had music. I wanted some, but Ryan said we’d have to pay for it. If things go well, we can get some original music made for cheap, but until then, The Immortal and The Bat will need to provide the soundtrack.

I step into the picture with my long black cape added on. We face off. We don’t speak. I worried that the dialogue would sound cheesy. Instead, we flex and look at each other. The stare down is intense and dramatic. We move in as close as possible without touching. I can feel his hot breath on my chin. We finally both take two steps back, our eyes never leaving each other.

We planned this part out, but the rest of this match will be real and done in one take. I don’t want fake action with cuts in the video. I want the intensity of a real wrestling match without a pre-determined outcome.

We both take a step back. I unhook my cape and twirl it off then toss it aside. Ryan films all around my body, ending on my ass before moving over to focus on The Immortal. He unclamps his cape from the amulets slowly and raises it methodically, with majesty. He carefully folds the cloak and adornments as Ryan moves around him, capturing his newly revealed body and his mountainous bodybuilder butt.

The Immortal grabs his bulge and squeezes it with an arrogant chin upwards nod. I smirk and nod back, grabbing my own bulge and adjusting it as Ryan zooms in. With sex stakes confirmed, we face off again. Nothing from this point on is planned out. The Cave is officially under way.

I flex my arms up. The Immortal takes the bait charging in with a diving fist aimed at my abs. I’m expecting it, so I grab his wrist and forearm, twisting out of the way. His momentum throws his body forward. I bend his arm back as I trip him face first onto the mat. SPLAT! I smoothly spin and bury my knee between his shoulder blades as I force his arm up and forward.

Under me, The Immortal curses from the pain. I slowly work his thick chiseled arm, twisting and rotating it for maximum pressure on his shoulder and elbow. I switch to a one-handed grip then reach down to grab a handful of his hair. I pull his head up so Ry can get a good shot of his pained face. I push his handsome masked face down onto the mat. WHACK! That stuns him.

I let go of his arm then grab him by the hair. I drag him up into a hammerlock. I use it to push him into the black curtained wall. WHOMP! I force his wrist higher up his back then step back, pressing it into his muscle. I unleash punches to the back of his bowling ball size shoulder. POW! POW! POW! He grunts. I splash my body on top of him. SPLAT! I thrust my hips, humping him.

The Immortal sags against the wall. He’s strong and resilient, so I know that I need to wear him down some more. I pull him off the wall and spin him to face me. He twirls around, disoriented. I scoop him across my chest then body slam him down. BOOM! He bridges up then rolls over, holding his back. I drag him up by his hair, scooping and slamming him down again. BOOM! This time, he stays on his back, moaning in pain.

I drive my left foot into his rock-hard abs. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! I see him tighten them up as he crunches up and growls. Suddenly, he fires a fist out into my right calf. BAM! I’m thrown off-balance, stumbling into the wall. The Immortal is up fast. I turn to face him, but he’s not looking to lock up. He just runs at me. I brace for impact as he barrels into me like a battering ram, his rock-solid muscles crushing me against the wall. SPLASH!

The Immortal starts pounding away at my body. THUD! THUD! THUD! I let out cries of pain as his fists tear my muscle apart. THUD! THUD! THUD! He switches to forearms into my pecs. WHOMP! WHOMP! WHOMP! I sag against the wall, trying to regain focus. He spins, slamming his back into me. SPLAT! The villain reaches back and grabs my cowled head then flips me forward over his shoulder and onto my back. WHAM!

The muscle stud drops down, pinning my shoulders down with his shins. His mountainous ass is on my face as he faces down my body. He unleashes fists into my abs. WHOMP! WHOMP! WHOMP! I cry out, my groans muffled by his meaty butt cheeks. I try to lift him off but he's heavy. THUD! THUD! THUD! I kick my legs up to scissor his head, but he grabs my legs.

Luckily, that’s what I was expecting him to do. I surprise him by throwing my body to the right as I use my legs. He topples off me, rolling away. I roll in behind him, getting on top of him. I go for a full nelson, but The Immortal fights me. He rolls under me and we grapple hard. I’m a better wrestler, but he’s stronger with a more compact build, making us more even than I’d like.

We roll over the mat, changing positions quickly. It’s a full-on submission mat match now as we fight for control. We’re sweating and grunting as he goes for my body and I go for his limbs. We each get our holds on, but neither can submit the other. He's too strong and I'm too good. We cover the entire mat with our sweat as we furiously fight for control. I get more time in command, but nothing comes of it. I do wear him down, which is important, but this first match is turning into a marathon.

My push to weaken his shoulder and arm isn’t helped by the puddles of sweat as we fight for top. We’re slipping and sliding, leveling the playing field and negating some of my skill advantage. Our muscles are incredibly pumped. I finally get behind him and manage to grab him around the neck. I fight to lock on a rear naked choke. He gasps under me as I apply the killer hold. He tries to roll us, but I spread my legs out wide and he can’t move us.

The Immortal pushes up, lifting my 195-lbs of sculpted muscle. He’s so fucking powerful. The villain gets up to one knee as I adjust to get a better grip on the sleeper hold. It’s not happening fast enough, so I switch strategies. I just dive forward, driving him forward. He lands hard on the mat with my weight crushing him. SPLAT! I feel him go limp under me as he moans.

I grab his thick hair and drag him up. Enough mat work. The Bat is a pro wrestler, first and foremost. I slam him into the wall. CRASH! I kick him in the abs. He bends forward, right into a front facelock. I grab the side of his green trunks and suplex him over. WHAM! He moans loudly. I don’t stop. I drag him up and suplex him back the other way. WHAM!

As the villain moans, I roll over and force him into a seated position. I step over his shoulders then lift his leg into the air. He cries out in my stump puller. I keep the pressure on, but I know he won’t give to this. I release his leg then fall back, keeping his head trapped between my thighs in a head scissors. I stretch and flex my legs. He screams out as he grips my legs.

I grab his thick black hair as I crush his head. Ry moves in and captures all the pain as the villain’s head rests below my bulge. He pans up my abs then backs off as I work and work to earn a submission. I can’t do it with this, but he’s definitely getting weaker. I roll us over, keeping his head trapped. I lift my hips up then drop down, driving the top of his head into the mat three times. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! I open my legs and he’s limp on the mat.

The Immortal rolls onto his side, moaning. The long submission round is catching up with him. I drag him up again, pushing him front first into the wall. SPLAT! He stumbles back and I lift him up into a torture rack. The villain moans loudly as I parade him around the mat. I squat and jump up, sending shockwaves of pain through his body. He cries out as I bend his back.

The muscle stud is getting weak. I can sense it. I bounce him up and down a few more times, listening to his desperate groans of pain. I growl then put on my best Bat-raspy voice. I demand, “Give it up, Immortal! Submit to The Bat!”

A few more moans and he admits the truth, “I give! I give!”

I drop him down. SPLAT! I pose over him, flexing. I run through a whole routine as savor my victory. The first match of The Cave. The first win for The Bat. It feels amazing. I back off then grab a towel as Ryan pans over The Immortal’s amazing body. The villain lies in the puddles of sweat, trying to re-focus. I dry off and grab some lube and protection for the next stage.

When Ryan backs off, I move back in. I order the loser onto his knees. He knew this was coming, but obviously hoped he’d be on the winning side. I look down at him kneeling before me, loving the look of his heaving pecs and broad shoulders. Damn. I grab his hair and pull him into my bulge. He does the rest, lowering my trunks and engulfing my manhood.

The loser services me, as per our stakes. It’s not like we haven’t fucked before, but it feels a lot better like this. The Bat dominating The Immortal in some sexy superhero roleplay. Oh fuck, he’s so good. He uses his hand and mouth on my massive manhood. When I’m hard as a rock, I order him to back off and strip. He does and I lick my lips. Such a sexy man. I make him sheathe my Bat-pole before he rises and heads to the wall.

The Immortal braces himself as he thrusts his mountainous ass out at me. I move in behind him and lube his hole before I take him. I ride him slow and long, making this first victory fuck really last. He moans loudly as I pick up speed, pounding his hole hard. I order him to jerk his sword, which he eagerly does under him. I ride him hard then thrust deep inside him.

I hold inside him as I pull the villain back off the wall. I attack his neck and pec as he works his cock. I slide out then put him on his back. I power into his ass again and fuck him hard as we lock eyes. He gasps and I nod, allowing him to unleash his load all over his torso. I plow him harder until I’m ready. I pull out, uncover my cock then explode all over him from his masked face to his drained manhood.

When I’m done, I rise up and flex over him again for a final victory shot. Ry gives me a thumbs up, so I back off as he gets a few loving shots of The Immortal’s cum-covered torso.

Filming wraps and we relax. I help Craig up and we peel off our masks. We kiss. I thank him and ask if he enjoyed it. He did. We chat about how things went, looking at some of the raw footage of the grappling portion on Ry’s camera. It looks awesome. The lighting and black background is perfect as our bodies shine. Craig and me hit the shower as Ry cleans up.

I come out of the bathroom, showered and refreshed. I’m naked and feeling great. Ry is quietly reviewing the footage. I clear my throat and he turns to me. He’s seen me naked so often that he’s unfazed by it. I like that we’ve reached this point. My best friend says everything looks great and shows me a few seconds of how I submitted Craig. It does look great.

I tell Ry he did a great job behind the camera. He scrolls through and everything is nice. There are a few bad angles and out-of-focus moments, but nothing major. For a first video, it’ll be awesome. All our preparation paid off. It always does. Preparation is everything. I tousle his thick mop of unkempt hair then use it to pull him down into a kiss on the cheek. He blushes. I like that we haven’t reached a point where I can’t make Ry hot under the collar.

“It’s incredible, Ry. You’re incredible.” He blushes again then turns away to roll up the mat. I tell him, “Leave it down. Wait until you see who I’ve got lined up tomorrow to be Knightwang. Oh, crap. Do you think that name is corny? I know we don’t want any cheesy porn names like Super Slut or Power Penis. Is Knightwang too far?”

Ry turns back, looking surprised, “Tomorrow? When?”

“Around 6? I just got the text while I was cleaning up. What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, Cody, but I’m having dinner at 7 with Frank tomorrow and I canNOT cancel. It’s our third date and you know what that means.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“Sorry, I forgot that you don’t have the attention span for three dates.” I stick my tongue out at him. “Put your tongue back in your head. For me, the third date means sex.”

I make a face, “You haven’t fucked yet?”

“No, we haven’t fucked yet.”

“Wow. That should’ve been the first date.” Ry laughs. I nod, “Okay. Well, let me see if we can do it earlier. It’s great that you’ve met this guy. I’m happy for you. It’s totally inconvenient for me but I am happy for you.” Ry shakes his head with a smile. I think then ask, “Do you need any, you know, advice?”

Ry laughs, “No, dad, I’m good. It hasn’t been that long. I remember what to do.”

“So, tell me about him.”

“We met at the comic book store. He’s 30. He’s into comics, sci-fi and wrestling. Works as mechanic at the Mercedes dealership in Pasadena.”

“An older man. Good with his hands. Nice. Got a pic?”

“Just in my head. He’s fantastic, Cody. Italian. A bear with luxurious chest hair. Shorter and smaller than me, but solid and hella sexy. And you’re right about his hands. They’re thick, strong and yet smooth. God, I can’t wait until tomorrow when he’s using those hands on me.”

“He sounds great. When do I get to meet fantastic Frank?”

“How about sometime after the third date? It’ll kind of be make or break.”

I snap my fingers, “I have a better idea. How about I meet him on the third date?”

“What?”

“Bring him here and he can watch you film my match. You said that he likes wrestling. Or, or, he can help film. A second camera would be awesome. We’ve talked about it. It’ll get him all hot and I guarantee the sex will be amazing. I’ll clean up and you guys can even use my bedroom. Light some candles, put on some music and just tear each other apart.”

Even though I’m not joking, Ry laughs like I am, “You’re the worst. I’m not bringing a date to film The Bat wrestle and fuck some muscle stud playing Knightwang - and yes, that’s too cheesy - for the gay porn site I co-own. I’ll tell him about The Cave if this goes anywhere.”

“Which goes anywhere? The relationship or The Cave?”

“Both.”

I let it go, but I realize that Ry is the type who might let himself get stretched too thin. He just doesn’t have my focus or discipline. I suddenly start to worry about my best friend. Ry doesn’t have a lot of experience with guys, especially guys I didn’t specifically find for him. He definitely shouldn’t be with a guy who’s needy or a distraction. And Frank sounds like he’s both.

The Cave and school have to come first. They’re Ry’s future. If he isn’t more careful about his priorities, he could be left with nothing. I love him too much to let that happen. Maybe I should have a talk with him.




“Promise.”

“You’re blaming an entire car company because one of their mechanics dumped you?”

“I don’t care, Cody. You know I know how to hold a grudge better than anyone. And I know you’re terrible at holding one. You’re my best friend, so you have to support me on this. Promise me.”

“I promise to never buy a Mercedes.”

I nod then sigh as I lean back on my bed. Cody lies beside me, playing with my thick mop of messy hair with his fingers and rubbing my big stupid stomach.

We lie there and talk for a long time. He comforts me and gives me his perspective, which is to go out and fuck the first guy I see. That’s always his advice. However, I do feel better with him here. He tells me I’m awesome and perfect, which is great to hear right now. Nothing better than Cody lifting me up after a jerk has brought me down. I know two months is not a really long relationship, but it’s my longest ever. Now I’m depressed again.

Cody makes sure that I’m okay then says he has to make a call. I lie back and close my eyes. After a while, I realize that Cody’s been gone a long time. I hear him on the phone, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. I hope everything’s okay. I suddenly feel like a burden. He probably had big plans and he’s probably late. Now I feel guilty.

My best friend comes back with a big smile. He says, “You and me are going out tonight.”

I say I don’t want to and that I can’t handle LA right now. He shakes his head, saying we’re going to the nearby bar just to hang out. I like the sound of that. I’ve been there before. It’s nice and casual, unlike Cody’s usual club scene. I let him talk me into it. I shower and clean up. I throw on a sweatshirt, but Cody makes me wear a nice dress shirt. He’s always so vain.

We watch the game and have a couple of beers. It’s nice, like old times hanging out in his basement. Except we’re not stripped down and wrestling. Maybe later. Cody suddenly leans towards me, “Ooh, you’re getting stared at.”

I ask, “What?”

Cody smirks, “You’re getting stared at.”

“I knew it was a mistake to come out. I should go.”

“Ry. Relax. I mean that you’re getting checked out. My three o’clock. Big guy. Baggy gray sweatshirt. Holding a beer. Same brand as you. Looks perfect.” I don’t react. “Seriously. At least give him a look.”

To appease my best friend, I turn my head casually. Oh, he is good looking. My quick glance goes longer as I take him all in. 6’2” at least. Beefy. Muscular, but doesn't look like a bodybuilder. Although he's wearing a big sweatshirt. Dark shaved hair. Good looking with a beard and glasses. I wish he was checking me out. As I’m checking him out, he looks at me. We lock eyes and I immediately look back at Cody. Oh shit.

Wow, I wish he was staring at me.

Cody smirks, “So, go over there.”

“Are you crazy? He’s way out of my league.” I take a gulp of my beer. “Besides, you know that if he’s checking anyone out, it’s you.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Cody, stop. I just wanna hang out with my best friend tonight.”

“Sorry, buddy, but I wouldn’t be much of a best friend if I let you pass on that guy.” Cody waves towards the guy to come over. Big hot guy almost jumps and turns away nervously. My best friend smiles, “Now I know he’s perfect for you. He’s just as bad at this as you are. C’mon, let’s say ‘hi’.”

“What? I’m not going over there.”

“Oh yes you are. I’m going over there and you’re coming with me. I’m a great wingman and I’m going to make sure that you’re getting laid tonight.”

“Cody, no.”

My best friend crosses the bar and I have no choice but to follow. God knows what he’ll say if I don’t. Cody introduces us. Big hot guy’s name is Nick. He’s shy and even kind of stammers as Cody chats him up. It makes him even cuter. Oh, fuck, he’s so sexy. However, he hasn’t even looked at me. He’s into Cody. I knew it. Except maybe he’s not. Cody bluntly says he saw Nick me checking out and the big guy blushes and looks down at his shoes for a second before lifting his head back up and sighing.

We’ve been over here a few minutes and Nick finally looks at me for the first time, “I’m sorry. I j-just thought, well, you know. Um, I thought you looked good. You’re different than, uh, I couldn’t help looking, uh, you know? Sorry.”

I swallow hard, “No, it’s cool. I thought you were maybe looking at Cody, you know?”

“No, I was looking at you.” Nick looks at my best friend, “Oh, no offense. I mean, you’re really, really good looking. Like really good looking. You’re like a model or an actor or something. It’s just, you know, I’m a big guy. I, um, like big guys.” He turns back to me, “Not that you’re big. I mean, you are, but in a good way, not a bad way.”

Cody sighs, “Oh geez. This is painful. Look, Nick, Ry just broke up with a dirtbag. He thinks you’re hot. You think he’s hot. Do you wanna go back to his place and help him get over it?”

I blurt out, “Cody!”

Nick’s eyes go wide, but he nods, “Um, okay? Yeah. I mean, it’ll be quieter, right?”

Cody rolls his eyes, “Hopefully not for long. Okay, I’m going to head to back to LA. Can you two Pasadena boys handle this from here?” We just nod, “Good.” My best friend gives me a hug and shakes Nick’s hand. Oh boy, that’s a big hand. “Have fun, boys.”

Nick and I end up back at my place. I put on some music and head to the kitchen to grab him a beer. When I come back, he’s got his glasses off. Wow, so handsome. I take mine off and put them on the dining table. We make small talk and he tells me he’s new to LA. He says that it’s a lot different than Omaha and that I’m the first ‘real guy’ he’s met.

We sit on the sofa in silence. After a few seconds, he moves in close. I just sit there as he puts his huge paw behind my head and pulls me forward into a kiss. Oh. It’s good. I tense up, nervous about this. Nick slides his other hand on my leg. Oh boy. I’m getting hard from his touch as he gently and lovingly kisses and caresses me. When I rub him, he feels so solid under his baggy clothes.

We break and he says, “That was nice.” I just nod. He smiles and pushes my shaggy mop from my eyes. “You’re so handsome, Ryan.”

“No, you’re the handsome one. You’re incredible. You feel like a pro wrestler.”

Nick laughs, “You know a lot of pro wrestlers?”

I nod, “Actually, I know quite a few. Cody and I have trained since we were teenagers. And I - never mind.”

“What?”

“It’s nothing.” He encourages me to spill, so I tell him, “My first time was with a pro wrestler.”

Nick laughs and his eyes go wide, “What?”

“On prom night.”

“You went to your prom with a pro wrestler?” I nod. He looks away, getting shy again, “Wow, that’s a lot to live up to.”

I shake my head, “No, it really isn’t. Trust me.”

Nick laughs and leans into me. This time, he goes harder at me, pushing me back on the sofa. I hear it creak from our nearly 600-lbs on it, but I don’t care. The whole thing can fall apart. It’s worth it. We make out and caress each other’s bodies. I moan under him as he just fucking owns me. He might be shy, but he’s dominant when the heat is on. I can go either way, but I know tonight that I’m definitely bottoming.

Nick unbuttons my shirt and pushes it aside. I’m wearing a white t-shirt underneath, but I can feel his hand as it slides all over my torso. Oh fuck, this feels so good. He pulls off, “I don’t think we fit on this couch, Ryan, but I don’t wanna stop. Can we, um, move to your bed?”

I just nod.

The hot big guy rolls off me and pulls me up off the couch. He slides my dress shirt all the way off then grabs my hand. He looks around, finding my bedroom door then leads me inside. I rub his chest as we stand there. He says, “Strip me.”

I gulp and grab the bottom of his sweatshirt. I lift it off. I stand there stunned. In his white undershirt, I can see that he's in incredible shape. Nick orders, "Tear my t-shirt off." I look at him. He says it again, “Tear my shirt off, Ryan.” I’m frozen by his sudden boldness. He asks, “Please?”

Somehow, the ‘please’ does it. I grip the thin cotton stretching across his pecs. I pull and it opens up. He grips my wrists, “I always wanted a man to do that.” Nick kisses me and things are even hotter. Suddenly, we’re wild animals. We’re clumsily pulling all of our clothes off. He unfastens my belt and jeans. I step out of them as I pull his torn undershirt off. He handles his own jeans as I peel my socks off. My undershirt is the last thing to come off me, which he throws aside.

Nick is a god!

When I finally see him stripped down to his underwear, I gasp. He’s beautiful. His baggy clothes hid an Adonis. A Greek god. Oh my. Dark, neatly trimmed body hair all over. Heaving pecs. A strongman’s stomach. Thick arms and legs. He peels off his briefs and he gets even better, revealing a massive cock and set of balls. He’s so gorgeous I can barely look at him.

I’m so ashamed of my own body until he steps into me and says, “God, you’re sexy. The only real fucking man in LA.” I’m weak and my mind is reeling as he pushes me onto the bed.

Nick is the best looking guy I’ve ever been romantic with. My insecurity evaporates as he keeps going, his hands and mouth owning me like I was as sexy as he says. I go with it, losing myself in his skilled hands. His nervousness is completely gone now that we’re into it. He’s so good and I’m helpless as he keeps telling me how much he wants me and how hot I am. Yes, yes, yes. I actually beg him to fuck me.

I fumble in my nightstand for protection. I toss lube and a half dozen condoms on the bed. I roll him onto his back then attack his cock. I suck his massive dick, needing my hand and mouth to do it justice. Nick guides me with his hand, continuously telling me how awesome I am. I savor his cock until he pulls me off. We lock eyes then I grab a condom, sliding it on him.

Nick throws me down face first onto the bed. I groan at being manhandled. He’s so strong. He drizzles lube into my crack as he talks dirty to me. Under me, my cock is so hard in anticipation. Despite the aggressive talk, he’s a wonderfully gentle lover. Nick slides inside me slowly and I moan as I adjust to his amazing dick. I whimper and beg him to fuck my ass hard.

I cry out as he does just that. Nick pounds my hole and I can barely breathe as I gasp. It feels so good to have a man inside me. All my fears and doubts are gone as I’m ravaged by this beautiful man. I take the pounding, encouraging him with my words and grunts. He puts his hands on my shoulders as he relentlessly rides me. Oh fuck, the guy’s still rock hard.

It’s the longest fuck I’ve ever had. He pulls out only to tell me to slide back. I drop my feet to the floor and thrust my ass up and back. He spanks my right butt cheek and I let out an approving moan. He drives back inside me, plowing me even harder. I tell him he’s amazing. He playfully dominates me, even calling me ‘boy’ and I call him ‘sir’ and beg him for more.

After what seems like forever, Nick pulls out. He orders me onto my back on the bed. I obey and he mounts me. Seconds later, he unleashes his seed onto my torso, coating me with the biggest load I’ve ever seen. I can only stare up at his incredible pecs and shoulders as they tense up. He’s gorgeous.

Nick finishes, but he doesn’t move off. Instead, he grabs my cock. He milks me with his left hand and flexes right arm. He’s a muscle beast. I just stare at him and it takes no time before I’m exploding all over myself. My entire body shudders and the bed shakes as I writhe and thrash from the intensity of my orgasm. Nick slides up beside me and puts his hand to my mouth. I see cum on it, so I lick it off.

We lie there then Nick asks if he can clean up. I nod and point to the bathroom. He turns and asks if I want to join him. I eagerly follow him into the bathroom. We barely fit into the shower, but we make it work. I ask to suck him off. He lets me and I swallow his load. We towel each other off then collapse naked onto my bed. I fall asleep fast, blissfully entering dreamland.

I wake up alone. Did I dream Nick? I lean down to the sheets and breathe in. I smell his musk. Oh, fuck. He was real. It was all real. I get up. His clothes are gone. He’s not in the bathroom. Not making me coffee. He’s gone. No note. Okay. I call Cody and he confirms that Nick is probably a one-night stand. He says it’s better this way with me being on the rebound.

I have to trust him. I’ve never had a one-night stand before, while Cody’s had more than his fair share. He’d know what Nick was thinking, because Cody is exactly the type to just leave when he’s done with you. I need to face it. I was used for easy sex. Used by a sexy, furry muscle beast who was amazing in bed. Used for the best night of sex I’ve ever had.

I smile and I feel kind of sexy.

Coffee. I make myself a cup then head back to the bedroom. I strip the sheets and put them in the washing machine. I take another shower. It was a fun night, but I don’t need any reminders of Nick. I realize that I’ll never be with him again. Even if I do see him, we’ll just awkwardly look away as we pretend we don’t know each other. I’ve seen Cody do it enough times. It’s too bad. He was a cool guy. Oh fuck. I want to smell him again.

Now I feel kind of empty.



“Ry! Where have you been?”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, Cody. Greg and I were having brunch and I lost track of time. Then traffic was way worse than usual. I’m here. I’m here. Please tell me that Max didn’t leave?”

“No, luckily, I convinced him to stay. And he didn’t even ask for more money. He’s meditating in the villain’s locker room.”

Ry relaxes, but I’m still wired. We’ve got a business to run and he’s messing around with his new boyfriend, Greg. Meanwhile, I’m thinking he’s been in a car accident or something. I tell him, “You didn’t answer your phone. I was worried.”

“Sorry, the battery died and Greg’s not on iPhone and I took my car charger out when I got it serviced then forgot to put it back. By the time I realized it, I was on my way and I didn’t want to turn back around to ask Greg to call you. Everything that could’ve gone wrong did.”

“Well, you’re here now. I’m happy you’re safe, but I’m still worried about you. It’s not like you to miss things. You’re the responsible one. Are things going okay?”

“They’re going great. Greg’s awesome. I think I might be in love. He might be ...the one.”

I force a smile, “Congratulations, buddy. So, how long before you’ll be ready to film?”

“Oh, yeah. Okay. Um, give me just five minutes. I know all the settings for the ring lighting and cameras off by heart.” Ry looks down, “I am sorry, Cody. I didn’t mean to let you down.”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Ry runs off to get ready. I really did not need this today. Not when I’m facing Max. He’s undefeated so far. It’s only three matches, but he’s looked really, really good in them. Of course, I’m undefeated in over 70 matches, but who’s counting. In the first four years, we released almost 50 of those as we built The Cave. Now, I’m at a more balanced pace of around 10 per year.

I let Max know Ry’s here and then move back to my locker room to get ready.

When I come out, Max is in the ring in his full Cobra villain gear. Cobra and me are about the same size, with him being an inch taller (6’1”) and five pounds heavier (205-lbs). My goal is to bulk up to that or maybe even 215-lbs, but I want to do it the right way. My Bat gear is perfect as usual, my cape flowing behind me as I strut in my black wrestling gear with red Bat icon accents on it.

Max as Cobra.

Cobra is waiting, wearing black tights, pro wrestling boots and a domino mask. On his sculpted chest, he has a black cobra temporary tattoo from Ry’s drama geek friend to complete his look. The guy’s body is awesome with rock-hard abs, firm pecs and limbs that look like they’ve been chiseled out of granite. On looks alone, he’s a winner. And he can wrestle. Yeah, I need to be ready.

I climb into the ring to run through my posing routine. I whip off my cape dramatically and hang it on the ringpost. I stretch and get ready, trying to put the trouble with Ry out of my mind. How could he do this to me? Distract me when I’m facing a stud like Cobra. Stop. Focus on the match, Bat. I need to right my mind or The Bat could actually lose his first match ever.

We circle the ring, eying each other. Cobra didn’t come to The Cave through me. Another wrestler recommended him and he was right. Unfortunately, that means that we’ve never even sparred together. I really have no idea about him, other than what I’ve seen during his three other matches. Meanwhile, everyone knows me and what I’m about. Just another advantage for him. Not that I mind. I like overcoming challenges.

We’re doing a best out-of-three with no sex stakes. Cobra doesn’t like tying sex to winning and losing. It’s disappointing, because I’d love that ass, but he feels how he feels. All of our sex is consensual, so if he isn’t into it, he isn’t into it.

I initiate the lockup, stepping forward towards him. He meets me and we tie up in a classic collar-and-elbow. We push and twist, testing each other as we battle for control. He is strong, matching my muscles. And he is skilled, countering my attempts to get control. Finally, the villain actually manages to twist and trap me in a side headlock. ARGH!

Cobra squeezes hard and I grunt. I use the opportunity to feel up his body. I punch it and give him some forearm shots to test him. POW! WHOMP! POW! He’s solid all right. Cobra keeps cranking and I’m starting to feel it. Under my cowl, my face and head are red as he crushes me between his flexing bicep and his granite-hard body.

The villain leads me around, trying to keep me off-balance. I stop trying to pull free, instead grabbing him around the waist. I lift him up. He kicks his feet, trying to get back to the mat, but I power him backwards, slamming his shoulders and back onto the canvas. BOOM! The ripped wrestler loses his headlock as he goes limp beside me.

I spring to my feet, leaping up and coming down with an elbow drop to those ripped abs. THUD! I have a lot of back-focused submission moves so I need to attack and weaken his core. I roll up then drop my knee into his washboard stomach. THUD! I bounce back up then come down with rapid fire knees. THUD! THUD! THUD! Cobra only grunts, but I’ll take it.

I grab him by his thick black hair and drag him up. On the way up, he surprises me with three quick strikes to my abs. POW! POW! POW! I stumble backwards, leaving myself wide open as he dives forward, slamming his shoulder into my stomach and running me back into the corner. CLANG! I sag on impact, leaving me defenseless as his fists tear up my torso. THUD! POW! WHOMP!

Cobra swats away my attempts to defend my abs. POW! THUD! POW! We have similar strategies, but he’s being more effective so far. I finally manage to get my boot up, kicking him back and away from me. I try to follow up fast by charging out with a clothesline, but the villain ducks and comes up behind me. Before I can even turn, he fires off two hard shots to my kidneys. THWAK! THWAK!

I lean forward and kick back, surprising him with a donkey kick to his stomach. WHACK! Cobra bends forward as I spin fast and grab him in a front facelock. I grab the side of his black trunks and flip him over with a suplex before he even knows what’s happening. BOOM! I roll over then grab his hair. I force him to rise.

The ripped wrestler tries another fist, but this time, I’m ready. I grab his wrist as I twist with the blow. It glances off me, but I use the momentum to twist him into an armbar. Cobra bends forward with the twist, leaving himself wide open for two big side kicks to his abs. THUD! THUD! He grunts louder this time, my focus is paying off.

With Cobra bent forward, I let go of the armbar and leap up. I bring my leg down on the back of his head and drive his face down into the canvas with the leg drop. CRACK! He moans on the mat, stunned by the big move. I roll him over for a pin, hooking the leg as I roll him up onto his shoulders. I slap the mat and count.

ONE! The villain squirms and struggles under me.

TWO! I fight to control him.

Cobra manages to kick free, lifting his shoulder before the three-count. I grab his hair again and drag him up. He doesn’t try a fist this time. He must be dazed, because I easily scoop him up across my chest. I spin then body slam him back to the canvas. SLAM! I drive my boots down onto his abs. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! He cries out as my boots collapse his abs.

I bend forward to drag him up. Cobra surprises me by reaching up and grabbing behind my head. What? He’s the fastest guy I’ve ever wrestled as his attacks seem to come from nowhere. I get rolled over onto my shoulders in a cradle with my ass up and my legs trapped. This time, it’s the villain who gets to count a pin.

ONE! Wow, he’s really got me.

TWO! C’mon! I throw all power into it as a stretch my body out and throw myself to the right.

I manage to break the pin and roll away from him. We both rise into a crouch as we face off again. We’re sweating with red midsections. We rise carefully, neither of us taking our eyes off the other. In unison, we start circling as shake out our limbs, preparing for more action. He’s as tough as I expected. I like what I’ve accomplished, but I haven’t gotten him into position for an actual submission hold yet. I need to fix that.

We move to lockup, but he uses his incredible speed to duck under my arms. He comes up behind me and locks me into a full nelson. ARGH! My shoulder collapses as he locks his hands behind my neck, pushing my chin down between my amazing pecs. I fight to power out, but he shakes me back and forth, keeping me from focusing on my counter.

Cobra is crushing me with the shockingly impressive move. I haven’t felt this kind of power from a guy my size before. I plant my feet and power my arms down with all I have. I break his hands apart, forcing his arms down with mine. I’m feeling proud of myself when I should step away. Stupid. The villain smartly switches holds to grab me in a reverse bearhug.

I grunt as his arms constrict around mine. He’s supposed to be a cobra, not a python, but there’s no time to quibble. I focus on breaking the bearhug, but he’s a step ahead of me. Suddenly, I’m lifted and thrown over and back with a belly-to-back suplex. BOOM! I land hard on my shoulders, momentarily stunned.

Cobra grabs my right wrist and pulls me up. I stumble forward right into a big knee lift. WHOMP! OOF! I bend forward as he reaches between my legs and over my shoulder. The villain quickly lifts me up then drops me over his outstretched leg with a gut buster. WHOMP! OOF! He bounces his leg to make sure I really feel it and I go limp on his leg.

The ripped wrestler grabs the back of my cowl and trunks, wedging the latter up my ass as he pulls me up. He stands me up then whips me front first into the corner. CLANG! I stumble backwards, right into his waiting shoulders. Cobra lifts me across his shoulders in a torture rack. I moan as my back is punished. With my abs broken down, I really feel the hold.

Cobra parades me around the ring, bouncing me hard. I cry out and try to focus on countering. I won’t give. I lift my outside leg to try to kick free, but the villain anticipates me. He falls backwards, slamming me down on my side. SPLAT! I cry out and roll onto my stomach. C’mon, Bat! Focus! Unfortunately, the ripped wrestler has no interest in letting me do that.

The villain moves in front of me. He grabs my cowl and forces my head between his chiseled thighs. He flexes on the standing leg scissors. I feel it, but it’s not that good. I push on his legs while I draw one leg up, planting my foot. Suddenly, he grabs my arms as I push on his thighs. He forces them back and up, locking his hands under my elbows across my back.

I struggle, but he’s got me in a dangerous position. I’m forced up onto both feet, my ass rising as my head remains trapped. Without waiting, he jumps up then comes down on his knees, driving my forehead on the canvas. CRACK! The lights go out as I’m stunned by the vicious move. Cobra rolls me onto my back and lies across my chest. He slaps the mat.

ONE! I try to kick out, but my legs are not cooperating.

TWO! Come on, damn it. Kick out!

THREE! I can’t kick out. I lose the first fall. Son of a bitch.

Cobra rises and plants a boot on the Bat symbol on my chest. He flexes over me, taking a well-deserved victory posedown as I try to get my mind back in order. The villain says, “That’s one. That’s only one.” He squats down beside me and slaps my cheek, “But two is coming.”

After a five-minute break, we’re up and facing off again. I’m feeling better and more focused. I know what he can do. I just need to show him what I can do. The first round was not The Bat’s best performance, that’s for sure. But there are two more rounds.

We circle the ring. I stay back near the corners and I see him smirk. He assumes I’m scared. I prefer careful. We move in for a lockup, watching for any sneaky counter moves. We lock up in a classic collar-and-elbow again, but this time, when he pushes against me, I immediately move to the side and push down. He flies forward into the corner, hitting face-first on the middle turnbuckle. SMACK! Now he knows why I wanted my back close to the corner.

I drive my boot between his shoulder blades. WHACK! He grunts, but more importantly, he tenses, expecting another one. Instead, I grab his boots and lift him up. He slides forward so his chest is on the middle turnbuckle as I bend his boots forward into a reverse crab position. He groans as I punish his back. Best part is that he has nothing stable for his hands to push up on to counter.

I keep him up, but he doesn’t give and I knew he wouldn’t. This is a wear-down hold. I push his boots as close to his head and shoulders as I can and hold it. He grunts and groans but holds on. I push forward hard then release him. His legs crash to the canvas and he flies back onto his knees. I move in fast and slam his masked face into the middle turnbuckle. SMACK!

Cobra sags and lets out a soft groan. I grab his ankles and drag him to the middle of the ring by his boots. I lock him into a standard Boston crab, bending him back. He pounds the mat with his fists but refuses to give. I keep up the torture, knowing I’ll need to work hard to even the score. The villain is resilient and determined not to lose his advantage.

Again, I release the crab. I immediately jump up and twist 90-degrees in midair, coming down with a splash across his chiseled back. SPLAT! I do a handstand then come down with my knee into his back. WHACK! He lets out a loud moan. I dig my knee in then reach out for his hair. I drag him up. He tries for a fist to my abs again, but I’m not fooled. I grab his wrist then pull on his arm as I force him to stand.

I use his arm to whip him into the corner, back-first. CLANG! He bounces out and I grab his arm, whipping him across the ring again. CLANG! I repeat the move. He tries to counter by spinning us 180-degrees, but I counter his counter, spinning us all the way around so he still collides with the turnbuckles. CLANG! I whip him in for a fourth time. CLANG!

Cobra stumbles forward, right into my rising boot. I kick him in the abs then reach around his waist. I lift and flip him up into an over-the-shoulder backbreaker. He moans as he hangs on my right shoulder, his torso hanging down in front and his legs hanging down in back. I bounce him up and down as I work his back. It has to be weakening by now. Maybe, but he’s still not giving up.

I pull down on his chest and flip him over and down, landing face-first. SPLAT! I drag him up, scooping him across my chest. I drop him into an over-the-knee backbreaker. KRAKT! I hold him on my knee, bending him in half as he moans. I can’t help but look him over as I bend him in half. Those abs are amazing, especially stretched like this. And his bulge isn’t bad. I’ve done worse. Maybe I can convince him to do stakes, even if it’s off-camera. He’s very fuckable.

First things first. I have to beat him. And so far, he won’t give. Even as I dig my elbow into his abs, he still won’t give. Damn! I grab between his legs and behind his neck. I power him up then drop him back onto my knee. KRAKT! He bounces off this time, holding his back and writhing on his stomach in the ring.

I roll over and mount him. I force him up into a camel clutch. I bend him backwards and force him to look up at the ceiling. For a good-sized muscle guy, he’s flexible like a twink. Fuck. He’s moaning away. We’re both sweating profusely. I pull back on his chin and he cries out. He’s doing everything but saying that he quits. This fucker. It’s like he’s daring me to hurt him.

Enough is enough. If he won’t give, I’ll knock him out. I lean forward, sliding my arms around his head for a sleeper. I get my arms in place, but with our position change, Cobra strikes fast. My knees drop just enough that he can thrust his arms forward. WHOOSH! I lose the camel and the sleeper. Fuck. I stand up and drive my boot into his back, more out of frustration than anything else. STOMP!

I drag Cobra’s limp carcass up. I bend down to scoop him up, but as I lift, he jumps with it. The extra force allows him to swing his legs over my shoulder. He drops behind me then grabs my cowl. He pulls back sharply, toppling me backwards onto my neck and head. WHACK! The impact stuns me. He can’t follow up, allowing me to roll over onto hands and knees.

I shake out my head and rise. I don’t see him. When I feel his hands on my back, I realize too late that he’s behind me. He steamrolls forward, forcing me into the corner front first. CLANG! I sag in the corner. He grabs my cowl and spins me around. My head is forced down between his thighs then I feel his arms around my waist. Oh no. Cobra lifts me up then falls backwards, piledriving me down into the ring. KABOOM! Everything goes dark for a moment.

I lie there, unable to move or even think. I blink my eyes quickly, hoping to recover from the devastating move. Cobra lies across me. He slaps the ring for the pin.

ONE! I weakly roll under him.

TWO! With every ounce I have, I manage to raise my shoulder, just in time.

The villain snarls, “You’re as tough as they say, Bat. You and your miracle finishes. Ain’t gonna let you do it to me, though.”

Cobra starts pummeling my body with his deadly fists. THUD! THUD! THUD! He drags me up then whips me into the ropes. I ricochet off, ducking his clothesline. When I bounce off the opposite ropes, I go for a shoulder block. The villain is ready, rolling with it and slipping behind me. I feel his arms wrap around my head and squeeze. Oh no!

I fight in the rear naked choke, but he’s got it cinched in tight. I try to run him backwards into the corner, but he blocks me. I try to flip him over my shoulder forwards. Nope. I feel myself getting weaker. He pushes down and I drop to one knee. Now he has even better leverage. I squirm and struggle, but my arms are too weak to do more than flail.

The villain squeezes and forces me down onto the canvas. I collapse onto my side with him behind me. I try to roll us, but he feels like he weighs a ton. It’s getting harder and harder to think. To process anything. To formulate a plan. He brings his leg over my hip for more control. I feel his boot pressing on my bulge. I can’t lift my arms. I can’t open my eyes. I can’t ...

Everything is black.

I hear Ry’s voice and feel a hand on my chest. That feels nice. My best friend is here to save me. My Robin. Wait, what? I open my eyes slowly. I suddenly realize that I lost. Again. Two falls. It’s over. I lost. Ry’s face confirms it. He nods at my unasked question then says, “Max is showering. I paid him and got the release signed while you were out. He didn’t want stakes.”

I nod, trying to come to terms with my first loss as The Bat. I’ve lost in private matches, but usually against much bigger guys. I seem to struggle with a lot of the bigger guys. I need to work on that. I roll over and rise slowly with my best friend’s help. He tells me I did great and tries to lift my spirits. I’m not sure he can. I mean, I knew I’d lose eventually, but not to Max. And not like this. Not like this.

Trying to focus on the positive, Ry asks, “What should we do with all the money?”

“What money?”

“The money we’re going to make off The Bat’s first loss? Guys have been clamoring for this since we launched. Five years of Bat wins have built up to this moment. It’ll be awesome.”

I shake my head and hold up my hand, “No, it won’t, because we’re not releasing it.”

My best friend looks at me, shocked, “What? Why not?”

“Because it’ll ruin everything, Ry. The Bat doesn’t lose. Sure, it’ll be a one-time hit, but it’ll kill every future video sale. Once The Bat loses, he’s no longer ‘The Bat’. He’s just some guy in a mask. The longer I stay unbeaten, the better for us.”

“Are you sure that’s not your ego talking?” My eyes narrow and he moves on, “So, you’re just never going to lose? Max beat you. Fair and square.”

I roll my eyes, “That’s debatable. I was thrown off by all the drama before the match. Your lateness. Your phone being dead. I wasn’t even thinking about the match. I was thinking about if my best friend had been in an accident. Max meditated the whole time. He got extra prep time and I got worse than none. There’s no achievement in beating a distracted Bat.”

Ry frowns, “I’m sorry, Cody. I didn’t realize I’d affected you so much.”

“It’s okay, Ry. It is. But obviously I’m going to worry about you. I hope if I went MIA, you’d worry about me just as much.”

My best friend admits, “Well, when you put it like that, I get it. I would worry about you if you didn’t show up to a taping and I couldn’t reach you. I’m so sorry.”

“Look, when The Bat loses ... and I’m sure he will at some point ... we need it to be epic. Like you said, guys are clamoring for it. Do you think this match is what they’ve been clamoring for? Max didn’t even take sex stakes. It’ll feel disappointing if The Bat isn’t fucked after his first loss.” I see Ry nodding and looking down. He understands, so I ask, “Am I wrong?”

“Well, that is true. Guys don’t just want you beaten, they want you humiliated and fucked. Hard. I guess this would be anti-climactic.” He’s forced to admit, “Okay, you’re right.”

“I’m always right about these things. Ask anyone.”

Ry gives a small smile, “There’s no one else here.”

“That’s my guy. Look, I know it’s tough, but we’ll just have to eat Max’s pay and move on. Maybe we can release it eventually. BIGBeast holds onto to matches for years. We can keep this and when The Bat losing isn’t such a big deal, we can release it.”

Ry just nods and leaves the locker room to clean up the ring. I get that he’s disappointed, but I know I’m right. Besides, he needs to focus on his priorities and future, not one match. I’m not mad at Ry, but I am concerned. I can’t help thinking about how today unfolded. I shouldn’t be surprised. This happens every time Ry falls for a guy, but this is the worst one yet. Missing a taping? Worrying me? No, this isn’t the Ry I know and love. He’s changing. For the worse.

My best friend hasn’t had a lot of guys during our Cave partnership, just five, but they’ve definitely been inconvenient. The first couple resolved themselves, but these last three have been trouble. It wouldn’t be such a big deal if Ryan at least fell for the right guys, but his last couple of boyfriends haven’t been very trustworthy. They both cheated on him and dumped him at the slightest temptation. Greg’s no different. I’m sure of it.

I love Ry too much to let him throw me and The Cave away for some cheating asshole. I’ve always had to take the lead in our relationship. I’m Batman. He’s Robin. It’s who we are. He’s my responsibility. Looks like I might have to step in to help him stay on track. Again.



“Greg cheated on me, Cody.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Ry.” My best friend hugs me and it feels good. I just stand here in his arms, holding back my tears. Cody is the only man who’s ever truly loved me. I love him so much. Yes, I have dreamed about having more, but his brotherly love is perfect right now. He whispers, “I never trusted him.”

I squeeze him back, letting him how much I appreciate him, “You said you liked him.”

Cody breaks the hug and looks at me with a small smile, “I lied. So, what happened?”

“Same thing as always happens. They’ve actually been fooling around behind my back for weeks. Weeks! Can you believe it?”

“Maybe it’s good that you found out now? Before you fell any deeper for him. He’s been exposed as a cheat and a liar. I think that’s better than the alternative. Imagine finding out years from now.”

“Don’t try to make this into a good thing. You always do that, but it’s not a good thing.”

Cody says, “Ry, if he’s willing to cheat on you now, he’ll definitely cheat on you later.”

I ignore his attempt to spin Greg’s betrayal into something I should appreciate. It’s what Cody always does, but this time I’m just in no mood for it. I’ve had five relationships in my life. I’ve been dumped all five times. The last three all ended with the guy cheating on me. Each time, Cody has tried to comfort me by calling it a blessing and telling me to look forward not back. I appreciate the thought, but I just can’t do it again. Not this time.

I whine, “Why does this keep happening to me? I get serious about a guy then he cheats. What is wrong with me? Why do guys do this? Do I drive them to it? It must be me.”

Cody rubs my back, “Nothing is wrong with you, Ry. You’re perfect.”

I walk away from him, “Clearly I’m not. Look at me. I’m a disaster. I’m a big fat slob who drives men away. I’m unlovable. It’s high school all over.”

“And who was right about everything all through high school? Who helped you find a guy?”

“You were. You did.”

“Exactly. Trust me. Cody knows best and all I ever want to do is to help you.”

“I know.”

“And I’m right about this. You have so much going for you that you don’t need a relationship. You don’t need to be tied down. Maybe you should stop trying so hard to find love and let it find you. Have a little fun. I can hook you up with a ton of guys. You and me, playing the field.”

I snort, “You and I don’t exactly play in the same size field, Cody.”

I need to lie down. I collapse back onto my sofa. It creaks as my 6’4”/320-lbs body crashing down tests its durability. Cody sits on the floor. He holds my hand and plays with my hair. As he rubs my forearm, he soothes my broken heart and tells me how incredible I am. He points out all my good qualities and reminds me that I get down on myself too much. He tells me to come workout with him, which he’s been pushing for five years, telling me it’ll make me feel better.

Maybe I should listen to him. Cody has been making me feel better about myself since we met. I love him so much. Even if his whole routine about this being a lucky break is a crock of shit. He’s the only man who’s stuck with me. Even though I’ve been unreliable lately and now I’m an emotional wreck, he’s here. I don’t deserve him. He’s the only man in the world that I can trust completely. And apparently, he always will be.

Maybe I should let him control my love life again. The cheaters are all guys I’ve found. I’m obviously bad at picking guys. My dad was a cheater. Maybe it’s subconscious. Maybe I’m just finding guys like him. If Cody did that, it’d be great. His dad is awesome. Maybe I’d have better luck if I just gave up and put my life in his hands. Again. It couldn’t be any worse than this.

Maybe I never should have followed him out to California when we went to college. I could’ve gone to better schools, but I needed to be near him and Cal Tech wasn’t a bad choice. And if I’d gone to MIT, I would’ve been completely and utterly alone. Cody’s presence has opened doors for me. Without him guiding me, who knows where I would’ve ended up. Maybe I should use the free gym membership he gave me. Become a gym rat, like him. Lose all this weight. Eat better. Get a haircut. Contacts. All the stuff he does. Cody’s never had a broken heart.

I take stock of my life. Other than Cody, I don’t have many allies. I did recently meet a guy named Pete. He’s become a steady friend over the past few months. And I do trust him. Pete and I are physical twins. Roughly the same age, I’m a little taller and heavier, but not so you’d notice. He’s more social and confident than me, which is a good thing. He’s smart, funny and wickedly bitchy. There’s no romantic spark, but it’s nice to have another confidante.

Interestingly, Pete is the one guy that Cody can’t seem to charm. Like me, he’s been an outcast his whole life, but while I met Cody, he never met anyone like that. He hates ‘prettyboys’ and Cody is the prettiest boy around. They only met once and I sensed the one-sided contempt. Fortunately, Pete’s being careful about attacking my best friend, but I can tell. Of course, my best friend is oblivious to it and wouldn’t care even if he knew.

And so, I keep them separate, but that’s okay. Pete is willing to do the movies and roleplaying games that Cody won’t. Besides, Cody is so busy, working out, dating and fucking pretty much all the time nowadays. My best friend has grown into a sexually-liberated narcissist. An unapologetic slut. An equal opportunity whore. I just don’t see that as a viable life for me, playing around, dating multiple guys. I am who I am and I’m not Cody.

Although it might reconnect us. I see my best friend less and less outside The Cave. He still invites me everywhere, but I feel more comfortable with regular guys who are more on my level like Greg - oh Greg, you fucking asshole - and Pete. Being amongst the beautiful people has grown tiring. I usually end up standing in the corner alone anyway. As bizarre as it sounds to Cody, I’d rather be rolling 20-sided dice in a garage on a Saturday night.

Other than Cody and Pete, I do have my job and The Cave. Maybe that’s where I need to put all my energy from now on. It’d make Cody happy to see me re-dedicate myself to The Cave, that’s for sure. It’s the only commitment he wants to have and I know that I’ve been letting him down. As The Bat, he's doing his part, finding talent and new ways to create hotter and hotter content. I need to do my part better.

My mind drifts back to Greg and he’s the third boyfriend in a row that’s cheated. I don’t care what Cody says. It has to be me. It can’t be them. I’m driving them into another’s arms.

A few days later, I talk to Pete and of course his advice is the exact opposite of Cody’s. He suggests I talk to them directly. I don’t think that’s a good idea, but he says it’s the only way I’ll ever know what’s going on. I tell him that I hate them for cheating. He tells me to get over it. At least for long enough to have a conversation. Then I can go right back to hating them.

I think about calling Cody, but I know what he’ll say. No, I need to figure this one out on my own. He loves me too much to accept that I have flaws. It’s great having a best friend who always has my back, except for situations like this when I need some truth. He’s too blinded by loyalty to help me uncover my relationship-ruining faults. Who knows what horrible flaws he’s overlooking?

Following Pete’s advice, I reach out to all five of my exes from Frank to Greg to see if they’ll have lunch. I’m kind of shocked when four of them immediately accept. A couple of them did reach out after we broke up, so they’re bitter I ignored them, but they’ll meet. I was too angry to talk to them back then and Cody said a clean break was best. I agreed at the time, but now it’s reached a critical point. I need answers.

The first two lunches go okay. Each ex tells me I’m a nice guy, but that I lacked confidence and was too in love with Cody. It was a turn off and they felt like I’d never put them first. I nod and understand their feelings. It was definitely true for Frank and Julian that Cody was omnipresent. It wasn’t until the last couple of years that Cody and I started hanging out less often.

The next conversation goes less well. That’s an understatement. It starts out well with Barry telling me I’m an awesome guy and cheating on me was a huge mistake. However, I nearly punch Barry out, because he blames Cody. He claims that he was set up to cheat. I roll my eyes. Take some personal responsibility, dude. He tells me that he knew I’d never believe him, but when I reached out, he figured he’d warn me, because he’s probably not the only one.

I shrug off Barry’s craziness and meet up with Carl. It’s the worst. He tells me the same bullshit story about Cody. He completely blames him, saying that the guy he broke up with me for was really an escort who dumped him right after he dumped me. Carl hacked his email (like that’s not crazy) and found proof. Carl shows me emails. He says he tried to warn me but since I wouldn’t accept his calls, he figured, screw me, he’d let me suffer in my dysfunctional hell.

I scan the emails and they’re pretty damning. I mean, they could be fake, but would Carl really go to all that effort? It’s weird, but it’s weirder to think Cody would do anything like this. If Carl hacked his ex’s email, maybe he hacked Cody’s? I look at the name on the email address. I think I know this guy. Nick Celik. It’s not a common name and I had a one-night stand with a Nick Celik. A one-night stand that I still remember, because he was so hot. And one that I later learned was arranged by Cody to help me get over Frank.

Oh shit. No, it’s a coincidence. Cody knows a lot of guys.

I could find and ask Nick. But then it would get back to Cody. I’d hate for my best friend to think I didn’t trust him. I already feel sick for even thinking my best friend could betray me like this. If he knew, he’d hate me and he’d be right to hate me. Well, not hate. Cody could never hate me any more than I could ever hate him, but he’d be mad. And he’d be right.

For a week, I run it through my head. What is going on? Barry and Carl don’t know each other. Not at all. As I wrack my brain, Greg calls me back. Instead of ignoring him, I pick up. I need to see if he can add anything of value to this conversation. He tells me he’s so happy that I reached out and that he wants to get back together. I ask why then he hits me with it. He’s been dumped by the guy he cheated on me with.

I see an opening. I ask him about the guy. He doesn’t want to tell me, but I dangle the carrot of a reconciliation in front of me. I pretend to be afraid of him leaving me again. He swears that will never happen and tells me everything about ... Nico. Nico, not Nick? Is that a coincidence? From the description, Nico could be Nick, but his last name is Castellano. When I ask if he ever saw ID, Greg thinks I’m nuts, reminding me that he never saw my ID either.

I tell him I’ll have to think this over. He asks why I called him if it wasn’t to get back together and I tell him I thought I forgot something at his place. He’s disappointed, but I don’t care. He still cheated on me.

I’m really confused, but I move forward. I know Cody’s personal email account. I could just peek. It’d be one way to find out the truth. If Cody’s been emailing with Nick or Nico or anyone else, I’d know. Cody’s not very tech savvy. I got him on gmail so he wouldn’t run out of storage. He doesn’t delete anything and he doesn’t change passwords. If there are emails, I bet they’re there. And if there aren’t any then this is just all coincidences and paranoia.

Do I dare?

Yes. I have to do it to clear my best friend.

It takes me a few more days to work up the courage. I finally go in. Nothing in his inbox. I knew it. And nothing in his trash. Okay. Yep, I knew it. It’s all a weird coincidence. Cody didn’t do anything. As a last step, I look in the sent folder. Oh no. There’s Nick’s email address. I comb through everything. The latest email is for training sessions. Cool, that’s nothing strange. A coincidence, like I thought.

Except it’s not.

As I go back, I learn that the gym membership and training session are free. Payment for services rendered. Those services are ... Greg. I’m never mentioned, but Cody did send Nick after Greg. He even calls it ‘another boyfriend job’. Nick is an escort. He calls Cody boss. Is my best friend a pimp? No, it reads more casual than that, but Cody’s definitely cultivated a relationship with this dirt bag.

Early on in the chain, Nick asks how long. Cody says he doesn’t know, but probably the usual amount of time. The usual. It happens so often that there’s a usual amount of time to break my heart. When he sees Greg’s pic, Nick says he should ask for danger pay. Cody replies that Nick has done a lot worse for a lot less. He adds that Greg is a nice guy. I almost throw up. Nick asks what happens if he gets turned down. Cody says he won’t, but if Greg passes this test, he’ll figure something else out. This test. Like there’ll be another one?

Cody did it. He really did it. He did it all.

No.

It can’t be true. Cody wouldn’t do this to me. He couldn’t. Not to me. Cody would never betray me like this. Not when he’s been so supportive of my finding someone, basically running my love life since we were 17. Cody found my first boyfriend ever. The guy I lost my virginity to on prom night. All through college, he’d set me up with guys. He was as upset by my loneliness as I was. He’d never break up my relationships, because he’s seen what loneliness does to me.

I cry on Pete’s shoulder, pouring out my soul to him. I’m sure he’ll think I’m a loser for it, but I have nowhere else to turn. I’m surprised when he’s sympathetic. He doesn’t throw me out. Instead, we sleep together. In the morning, I feel bad for using him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He tells me that he’s with me 100% and unlike the others, there’s nothing Cody can do to get rid of him.

Oh yeah. Cody. I get upset again.

Pete puts a theory out. Cody is jealous. I know that’s wrong. He has no interest in me. Pete says I’m misunderstanding him so he re-frames his point. Cody isn’t jealous out of love, but jealous out of ownership. Pete says that Cody wants me all to himself. Not as a lover, but as a slave. He doesn’t like my happiness if it comes at the cost of my unwavering obedience, which he’s had for 16 years.

I don’t want to accept it, but I suddenly see how it could be true.

It’s even worse than Pete suggests. I’m supposed to be Robin to Cody’s Batman. The Bat. As I think it through, I force myself to admit that Cody isn’t really the same guy I went to high school with. He’s far more selfish. And while I know he loves me in his own way, I realize he now loves two things more than me. One is himself. But that isn’t it. It isn’t that my relationships take me away from Cody. It’s that they take me away from The Cave.

The Cave.

The stupid fucking Cave. And The stupid fucking Bat.

The Cave is Cody’s real true love. My “best friend” loves playing superhero for this stupid video company more than anything. More than me. And he will do anything to keep it running smoothly. Including ruining my life. It’s like as soon as I’m not 100% available because of a guy, he goes into action to end the relationship. I think about it. The pushing. The questioning. The guilt. The badmouthing. If that doesn’t work, the cheating. It’s so obvious now.

My rage overwhelms everything else. I break a lot of things at my place that night, but nothing is as broken as my heart.

I suddenly hate Cody. Something I never thought possible. I start to dial him, but I realize that telling him off won’t matter to him for long. He’ll get over it. Worse, he might talk his way out of it. I can’t resist him. And I know exactly what he’ll say. That he saved me from future pain. After all, that’s been his line each time. Telling me it’s lucky that I found out early. He’ll tell me that if they were the right guys then they wouldn’t have cheated at their first chance.

Ending The Cave would matter to him, but that’s cutting off my nose to spite my face. I lose out on half of a modestly successful business, but he doesn’t. He’s the face of it. What’s to stop him from just re-starting something similar? If I try to close it down, he’d have rights. I can’t just unilaterally decide that. He could end up with my half and just find a new business partner. Everything is pretty turnkey now. Maybe he’d even partner with an existing producer. The Bat is established. He gets offers. Cody would be fine and I’d be the loser. He’d probably be more famous and his ego would grow even bigger. Ugh.

I work and work on a plan. Everything seems too quick. Too painless. Even the best revenge scenarios I think of are meaningless to an egomaniac like Cody. And the worst plans actually make him better off.

I finally accept that nothing I do will ever hurt Cody as much as he’s hurt me. No betrayal will ever be equal, because he cares about nothing and no one but himself. I have to do something that will be satisfying to me and accept Cody will move on and out of my life. He probably won’t even apologize. He definitely won’t try to win me back. I’m an albatross and he’ll be glad to get rid of me after all these years. But I’ll feel good watching him suffer for a few moments.

As I plot, I make sure that only Pete knows the truth. I speak with Cody. Hang out occasionally. I film Cave matches. After all, I have time. All the time I want. And I can hold a grudge like no one else. Just ask my dirtbag deadbeat dad. He’s begged for forgiveness and reconciliation, but he’s still sitting alone and broke in his ‘bachelor’ pad looking for wife number four. Asshole.

Ironically, what really keeps me going is Cody’s voice echoing in my head. How he tells me to believe in myself. Have more confidence. How I am capable of anything. He’s right. I am capable of anything if I just have the confidence. The determination. The focus. I can accomplish anything.

Including destroying The Bat.

Continued in The Cave 1: Meet The Bat (Posted 3/1/2015)

17 comments:

  1. Nice to see some backstory on these two. It's fun to see how Cody and Ryan became the guys we knew when you first started this series. Well, not so much fun at the very end with Ryan. With the 7/15 story, I guess this is his month?

    Did we know Dakota was Cody's full name? I feel that might be the biggest revelation of this story!

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    1. No, we didn’t know Cody was short for Dakota, nor did either guy have a last name before this. This was me filling details in a lot. I don’t think we knew Cody had two brothers, for example.

      The ending leads right into the first stories, so you get closure fast (if you don’t remember) and you know it all works out in the end. Ryan was wrong that Cody wouldn’t care, wouldn’t apologize and wouldn’t work to win him back. He did all three!

      Originally, the 7/15 story was 7/1 followed by an Encounters story, but with the Fan Fiction on 5/1, I’m one post behind and planning three stories for August to catch up.

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    2. You know what this means, Alex? We need last names and family details for everyone now!

      Ooh! Looking forward to August! 8/1, 8/15 and ??

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    3. I’m debating the schedule. I’m thinking 8/1, 8/11 and 8/21 to avoid giving two stories the shorter windows. If I post 8/15, I’m sure the third story would suffer for it. However, I’m so OCD that I know that missing the 15th ruins my perfect track record of hitting every 1st and 15th for over four years. ARGH! Why do I worry about such things?

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  2. I like the dynamic between Ryan, Pete and Cody. It reminds me of a quote from a similar dynamic I've read,
    "[Pete's] lack of integrity results in less splash back"

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    1. LOL. Thanks. I think they’re fun, especially as they’ve evolved.

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  3. This was an epic! Getting the background details about the guys was nice, and it answers why Ryan was so mad. Cody was real mean... it's so sad that he'd do that to Ryan. But I'm glad they seem to have moved on. Also now I'm curious what's gonna happen with Ryan-Dustin in the present!

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    1. Thanks! Well, from the beginning, Ryan described something like this, but it’s worse to see it play out than read about it. Luckily for them (and us), Cody fought for Ryan and made a sincere effort to change. Ryan realized his own role in the whole thing and forgave him. All’s well that ends well.

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  4. I loved all of this. Especially liked the switching of voices. Cody (or Dakota) narrating as The Bat for the first time realizing he needed to use their wrestling names was a great touch. The back story really fleshes out the beginning of The Cave, kinda makes me want to go back and start reading from the beginning again.

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    1. Thanks! That’d be quite the project. I just hope the details all match up. LOL.

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  5. Back story was such a treat. To know Codys full name, that alone was great. Of course, Ill jump to one new character, The Immortal. Ok. Miller, we need to see the Immortal in action again. He is hot and not only that, as The Bats mentor, he has to appear again! Any hopes! Please say so!
    Of course seeing Max after so many years, and of course finally reading the time The BAt lost for the first time! Wow! Finally! And he still has his reputation intact! HA! Well played Miller.
    By the way. Loved the friendship and the way you developed it. From Ryans mom forcing him to be friends with Cody, well motivating, to Codys beef with Dustin, and his manipulative ways. Fun story! Thank you!

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    1. Thanks! This is a story I could’ve played with forever but I’m glad to have it posted. The Immortal could definitely return. He’d only be 8 years older and I imagine he’s been around wrestling.

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  6. You have a rare and splendid set of gifts, Mr. Miller. Your inexhaustible imagination is so thoroughly supported by so many other strengths. Your extraordinarily fluid common-parlance prose is swift and crysral clear, whether it's a series of wrestling moves or the delicate weekly changes that color a friendship over a great arc of time. Your understanding of how various personalities interact is deep, also humane. You've got wrestling expertise to burn, and you've got the instinct--say even the kink--to makes sex-wrestling matches white-hot J.O. experiences for like-minded readers (all us guys here). I discovered your site just days ago. To now hear that you pour out multiple worlds of stories to a bimonthly schedule is staggering. It may be OCD but it strikes me as a species of genius. Who but a person of prodigious talent (to get my meaning, think Michaelangelo or Mozart) could lead a life crammed unflaggingly with so much that's so good.
    Your niche may not be as universally accessible as the fuckin' Sistine ceiling, but bro, in your way, whew! I've been a fan of sex-wrestling in prose and video for years, but your creations are at the apex. It's a joy to read. Ps., The illustrations rock!

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    1. Wow, this kind of praise could go to my head! :)

      I appreciate it a ton. If you just found The Cave a few days ago, you'll have a long journey through the stories. Enjoy!

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    2. Oh, if you check back on this, how did you find my stories? I'm curious.

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  7. Pps. Your icon, the red and white trunks with the maple leaf, must have big meaning for you. Gotta say, my personal reaction is that it hardly represents the huge-cocked muscle-god sexiness that just drench your universes. BUT DON'T CHANGE A THING if it puts you exactly where you need to be to give us this. WOW, Miller,
    WOW!

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    1. Yes, my icon does have meaning as a representation of me, not necessarily the blog. My favorite pair of trunks looked like that (I'm Canadian) until I washed them into submission.

      There's a story called Alex Miller's Vault: Flag vs. Flag, which is loosely auto-biographical. It's also my first-ever story that I shared through a Google Group run by Bard, a great writer and blogger (his site is https://sidelineland.com). You can find Flag vs. Flag on the Other Stories tab up top.

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