The Lesson by The Real Nick

The Lesson

 

by Real Nick

"You think it's him? That Andrew? So he's gay then? I never know with kids nowadays I guess."

The older man asked, phone to his ear as he peered through the blinds covering his office window. His name was Rocco Rossi. Standing at 6'4", with a broad and muscular frame, shaved head, dark stubble and features and tattoos where his skin was visible in his black, washed faded karate gi, one might be led to assume on first sight that this man was dangerous. 

"Don't do anything crazy, Rocco." The woman's voice on the other end of the conversation would say.

Rocco's face was studious, his dark brown gaze fixated on a large group of mixed aged students headed down a long hall heading out to a large training area.

"You have nothing to worry about, baby. I'm not like that anymore." The man said in his deep, gruff, yet calming tone.

Rocco definitely seemed like while he may not do whatever it was he potentially did anymore, he definitely did it before. There was a story behind those eyes, laid below the surface of his tanned skin and in every tattoo.

"And yeah, I'm sure it's that one boy that's been in your class the last year. Andrew Lawrence, right? I cross referenced some friends and photo tags and their socials. I'm one hundred percent sure it's that kid Andrew I saw Bobby kissing in the photos."

His wife, Carmela, said.

Rocco smirked a bit. Now peering further down the hall just enough to make out Bobby, his own son, exchanging laughs and playful pushes with another boy, Andrew. A lad just a bit older than Bobby. Rocco's eyes would widen just a moment, his heart skipping in his chest as he clearly saw what was Andrew grabbing a handful of Bobby's butt cheeks. 

"Yeah, I agree. It's him. I wonder why Bobby hasn't said anything about him. I wonder why he's feeling the need to lie to us. He knows we know he's gay.. It makes me wonder if there's something up with this Andrew kid he doesn't want us knowing. Either way, I'm going to have a sit down with him to see what his intentions are." 

Rocco said, before reaching down with a free hand to adjust his cinched black belt, moving towards his closed office door.

"Rocco honey please be normal about this. We don't know why Bobby is choosing to keep this from us." Carmela said.

"Relax, baby. I'm just going to sit him down and explain there's no need for alarm but that we don't like secrecy and it's okay if he and Bobby are talking. But Bobby is only thirteen, this Andrew Lawrence kid is fifteen or sixteen so I want to clear the air about some things. That's all.“

The man had every right to be curious. Young teenagers dated and explored the world on their own terms. He knew not to interfere with budding young adults but as a father of an involved party he was compelled.

Particularly his son Bobby who was younger than Andrew and was a very sensitive and sweet kid, he wanted to sift through the situation and establish a mutual line of respect. Dating and talking was all fine and good. But doing so in the shadows alluded to potential misgivings that lead Rocco's mind astray and he was very, very protective of his boy.

Rocco would give a soft, "Everything will be fine, Carmie. I love you." before hanging up on her and making his way out of his office and down the long hall.

Upon emerging onto the large open area filled with tumbling mats, sparring equipment and otherwise normal things that would fill an inner city karate dojo, Rocco would be met with casual glances and waves from students.

Boys and girls, mixed students of all ages. Ranging from seven to forty seven, Rocco had amassed a good collection of students over the five years he had been here in this studio. No one really knew where he came from, who he was before now or how he managed to buy this building in cash and renovate it so quickly.

But, it was good for the neighborhood.

"Good afternoon, karatekas!"

He'd say in a deep, commanding, but almost welcoming tone. A broad and genuine smile across his face. He stood like Atlus before his students, easily the largest person in the room.

"Good afternoon, sensei!" The students would respond in varying levels of energy and tone. They would all begin gathering, a wave of white karate gis moving to stand before him.

Rocco would scan them over, particularly one. Andrew. Andrew Lawrence. The boy was of average height, milky white skin that had a hint of tan to it. Freckles that washed across his face and what was exposed of his chest. Full, reddish lips, chocolate brown eyes and heavy hooded lids that gave him that "sleepy" look. A head of dark brown hair that was cut short and well maintained, parted to the side. And a fit, toned, if not somewhat lankey build.

The young man was cute. Not that Rocco would know, but he understood enough about the average "pretty boy" type to understand why his son would be drawn to Andrew.

The boy was a yellow belt. Trained elsewhere before moving here, but that didn't matter. Perhaps the kid had discipline. Rocco didn't want to assume the worst.

Among the heads he was scanning was Bobby, his young son, who was not in a gi, but in some grey gym shorts and a red shirt with a local diner logo on it, he was not a student and only visiting something he'd started doing recently and now Rocco knew why.

"Are you staying to watch class today, son?”

Bobby, fourteen, who shared the same skin tone as his Mediterranean descended father, with a head of short, curly, dark hair and almond colored eyes, shook his head. Casting a shy glance backwards as he moved away from the students, particularly Andrew, whom was trying not to look at Bobby.

"No pops, I was just hanging out for a minute. I gotta go meet some friends."

The younger boy would approach Rocco, who would kneel and wrap his son in a warm hug. The man was massive in comparison.

"Alright, my boy. Have fun and don't get into too much trouble." The man said in a calm tone with a hearty smile, releasing his son and reaching down to tussle his curls.

Bobby would reel from it, smirking a bit. A quick and sneaky glance was cast back at the students, Andrew particularly, which Rocco caught. Bobby would then turn and start heading across the dojo studio towards the door.

"Have fun guys!" The boy would exclaim, before vanishing out the door.

Rocco's smile continued, looking back to his students. Chiefly among them, Andrew.

"Andrew." Rocco said in his deep, gruff, baritone voice. The older teenage boy's eyes would widen a bit, that sleepy, dreamy expression he carried seemed a bit more alert in that moment.

"Yes sensei." He said firmly, standing at attention suddenly as that long, toned frame asserted itself. He wasn't intimidating himself, just appeared now to carry himself with some sense poise.

Good boy. Rocco thought.

"You'll be leading drills today for warmup. Take us through stretches first."

Andrew's face flushed a bit. He felt a nervous tingle sweep through his body. Performance anxiety, perhaps. But now was not the time to think twice or say anything other than "Yes, sensei.“

And so the class began. Rocco watching all of his students diligently. Their form, their stances, how they distributed their weight and what each of them did. Particularly Andrew.

And how he carried himself. He saw a young man who was a little loose in his form but developing. He carried that awkward autonomy most teenagers carried, especially the longer limbed ones, still trying to figure out how their suddenly elongated forms worked. His strikes were clean, though. His stances were pretty sturdy

Rocco didn't notice anything about him that stood out in particular, noting to himself that Andrew was for all intents and purposes just a normal young man and not some dastardly villain: Which thinking back on the way he saw the boy grab a handful of Bobby's rear, originally skewed his perception of the older teen

And his eyes narrowed. He knew the day and time would come, when these kinds of situations would arise. Truth be told, he thought he would be having the sit down with Bobby about how to treat girls and to wait until marriage to engage in more base and primal activities.

But, Bobby was gay. And while Rocco couldn't relate, he still made mention to his son to treat others with dignity. And respect. And that it was still important to wait until marriage.

And now, in his own dojo, among his own students. There was Andrew. Sixteen year old Andrew Lawrence. Sneaking a handful of his son's ass. Which didn't help put the large, hulking man's mind at ease.

"One, strike! Two, strike!"

Andrew's voice broke through Rocco's senses, bringing him out of the hand over fist scenarios he was playing out in his head about Bobby and blaming this potentially innocent young man for all of it. An hour had already passed.

He watched the older boy lead the students he was given. Promising? Perhaps.

"Alright, that's time! Everyone, thank you for coming to class today. Remember the focus for this week is cardio so please, in your free time go for a run, a jog, even a light walk. A body in motion stays in motion."

Rocco would speak as he moved to stand before the slowly gathering groups of students, Andrew at the front of the yellow belts and below.

The kid seemed cocky now. A smirk across his full, reddish lips. Those hooded, heavy, sleepy eyes drifting between the other students. Ah, Rocco thought. There it is. Give him a spot in the front and watch it go to his head, typical.

Andrew wasn't effeminate, or shy, or timid: Not in the ways Bobby was. Or maybe it was the fact that Andrew was a more masculine gay lad that gave him the confidence he seemed to bare? Rocco didn't know. Kids these days, he'd think.

The large, muscular, tattooed man would skirt his bare feet across the mat he stood upon, putting his fist in hand, entering a bowing stance, to which he would begin showing gratitude to each of his students.

"Excellent work today. And remember karatekas, go into the world with intention. Show kindness and compassion in every room you enter and that room shall flourish in your presence.."

As he bowed, he noticed it again.

"Thank you, sensei!" The collection of students would say unanimously, while he did so too, Andrew was smirking again. That shit eating smirk.

No, no, no.

Rocco thought. That's not a shit eating smirk. It's just a normal response from a young man you gave some sense of leadership to.

A smirk that belonged to a lad who's hand you saw gripping your younger son's ass cheek like an eagle with some prey in its talons, Rocco thought.

"Andrew!" Rocco said in a loud commanding tone, before realizing he shouldn't have, but it was too late now.

The sixteen year old would raise from his bow, reaching up to run a hand through that neatly cut dark brown hair as he moved away from the others, smiling at Rocco as he approached. A pretty boy for sure. 

"Yes sensei." The teen would say with a slightly puffed chest. Oh he was definitely feeling himself, shifting back and forth a bit on the balls of his bare feet. Youthful exuberance, Rocco thought.

Maybe he was judging the kid too harshly.

"I want to talk to you in my office, unless you have somewhere to be." The large man said in a calm, baritone voice.

Andrew would shift a bit on his feet, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck raising a bit. What about? He wondered. 

"Uh, sure.. My parents are making me take the city bus home today, so I just gotta make sure I catch it. But yeah. Can I change first?" The pretty yet handsome youth said, chocolate eyes moved to watch the other students a moment. Was he nervous about something?

Rocco nodded, reaching out to put a large hand on the boy's shoulder. "Of course. I'll see you in my office in twenty minutes?"

Andrew nodded to that, and turned to start heading off to the back rooms to change. They didn't necessarily have locker rooms. It was more a collection of refinished changing rooms. The dojo was once a clothing store decades ago.

Rocco was beginning to feel a little silly. He was villainizing this kid, who was probably just some gay dork who was incredibly harmless. As a parent, especially of someone as sensitive and sweet as Bobby, it was hard not to feel protective, but he had to realize that Andrew was potentially the same as Bobby. Just a lonely queer kid looking for validation, companionship and support.

After all, he was in karate. He was clearly here to learn to defend and discipline himself. Right? Right.

"Yeah... You're getting too into your head about this, Rocco. Just gotta sit down with Andrew, let him know you know about Bobby and him and that everything is okay and there's no reason for them to hide this..“

Rocco would proceed to spend the next part of ten to fifteen minutes chatting and catching up with a few of his lingering students.

He was good for that. Rocco was the kind of man who seemed to have struggled with a lot of things in his past and it made him relatable and likeable, which was something any of his students would say.

He had to clear his head and the conversations helped. He needed to refocus and change his energy before having this conversation with young Andrew.

Once the last of his older students had gone, Rocco would turn and clear his throat. Reciting in his head the line of dialogue he would open with as he began moving down the long back halls of the dojo.

I know that you and Bobby have been speaking to one another as more than friends. And I want to express that we are a welcoming family and that you guys have nothing to worry about. We don't like secrecy, and we respect you both, so please don't feel the need to hide.

That's good, right?

As Rocco moved past the set of changing rooms, he heard a voice. Another student around Andrew and Bobby's ages, speaking.

"That's actually kind of sus, man.. But it's cool you got your license."

"I know.. Damn, so glad I finally got to toss my learners permit. I don't think it's sus. Listen if nothing happens nothing happens." Andrew's voice suddenly came through as well, and Rocco would stop. What were they discussing?

The large man would furrow his brow, leaning in a bit towards the door, taking a look around to make sure no one else was around, before peaking in through a crack in the frame of the door.

He saw Andrew, standing there in nothing but a pair of grey briefs that hugged his frame. The lad was lean, toned, clearly developing musculature.

Bits of dark hair sprinked across his lower legs and arms and pits, but smooth everywhere else. He'd slide into a blue, faded short sleeved shirt with a worn Fortnite Llama on the chest, before picking up a pair of thin, black moisture wicking gym shorts.

One long, lean leg lifted to step into them, leading to a visual of the older teenage boys bulge which alluded to a set of ample, egg sized testicles and an soft, average sized sausage link nestled between them, shifting and bouncing about as he scooted himself into the five inch inseam shorts. 

Moving to then grab a pair of white sneakers as he put them on.

"... that's still kind of a creeper move, dude, I dunno."

Andrew would look up as he tied his sneakers, those heavy, dreamy eyes watching the other boy, Matt.

"I'm not forcing him to do anything... We've been playing around for a little bit now. And now that I can drive, I think.. I dunno."

"Nah man.. that's still weird. I mean at least you're not trying it with a girl.. so I guess.." 

Matt seemed to take grievances with this plan.

"Bobby is being a tease. I know he wants to do more than make out and holds hands. He's probably trying to be a daddy and mommy's boy and act like he doesn't want it."

Rocco's eyes widened a moment, his chest tightened. That stubbly, grizzled face shaped into a grimace.

"I dunno, dude.. You're a little foul for this." Matt said, arms crossing.

"Listen, I'm gonna take Bobby out on a date, we'll go see a movie or something, then we'll drive out to the cliffs and park to hangout. I read once that if you get a girl alone and away from people and things that she will be more inclined to agree to.. yanno.."

Andrew said, standing now and moving to grab his equipment bag. 

"See dude listen to how that sounds." Matt said, attempting to get his buddy to grasp the predatory nature of his plan.

Rocco's face was going red. Little veins surfacing in his temples. His Bobby? His sweet little Bobby?? His huge arms would tense, muscles bulging as a hand reached for that door knob.

Don't do anything crazy.

His wife's voice echoed throat his head, and he exhaled deeply, feeling a rage battling in the pits of his gut for supremacy. He would calm his mind. Not now, Rocco. Not now.

"Bobby is a guy, too. I just know he's horny man.. It's just a matter of getting him right where he needs to be. I know he wants to do stuff too. He's just being a scared little virgin..”

"You got problems, bro. You let me know how that goes for you. Catch you later on Atlas Towers?" Matt said, before grabbing his equipment bag and headed to the door.

"Yeah man. Ranked matches don't forget. And tell your cousins too." Andrew said, watching him. Maybe staring a little too long at Matt's rear: Andrew Lawrence was suffering from a severe overload of testosterone and puberty had the teen in a choke hold. He'd try to clumsily fuck a fence post if it had a hole in it, it seemed.

Matt pulled the door open, waving over his shoulder at Andrew, who was staring out at an empty hallway. Rocco was nowhere to be seen. Not that either boy knew the man had been out there listening, anyway.

Andrew would sigh, heaving the equipment bag over his shoulder as he began making his way out of the "locker room" and into the hall to see what sensei Rocco had wanted to talk about.

A smirk would cross the pretty boys freckled features. A part of him thinking how funny it was that he was literally trying to get into the sensei's sons pants. The very sensei who seemed to be showing interest in him as a potential star pupil.

Rocco stood at his desk, back to it, facing the open office door, arms crossed. His black karate gi felt tight around his large, muscular form. But it was only because he was attempting to remain calm.

Rocco, was a disciplined man. But he had to learn how to be that way. And it came after a much needed shift in lifestyle. There was a hulking beast that laid dormant in him. He had to remember, though, that he himself grew from learning. Life was a class. A place to evolve, and grow. To learn lessons.

Suddenly, sixteen year old Andrew Lawrence appeared in the office doorway, equipment bag hanging off his shoulder, that same smirk from earlier painted across the pretty boys full lips.

"Hey sensei, what's up?"

Don't do anything crazy.

His wife's voice drifted through his head again.

Rocco would motion for him to shut the door, before reaching over to a worn medicine ball sitting on his desk, palming it in one hand, bringing it to his chest and pressing into it. Calming himself. Woosah, he thought, woosah. 

"Can you shut the door, Andrew?"

And the sixteen year old would raise a single brow, before turning to shut it. Feeling slightly tense suddenly, unsure of what was happening. But being a boy with the ulterior motives he had, a guilty conscience was sure to lead to this kind of response.

".. You wanted to talk to me?”

Rocco would motion for Andrew to step closer, and the older teenage boy did, adjusting the equipment bag on his shoulder.

Rocco be staring straight into Andrew's eyes. He was a cute kid. Bobby must have been on cloud nine. Good for him. He could feel the original and planned conversation dying on the tarmac before even taking flight. He didn't want to dignify the sixteen year old with a graceful conversation.

Not after overhearing he was essentially going to try and lure fourteen year old Bobby into a scenario the likes of which he overheard. Any parents nightmare. And from this gay dork.

Civility was off the table. Rocco could feel himself trying to maintain composure and losing quickly.

"Tell me Andrew, do you think you're ready for belt advancement?" He'd ask in a gruff tone, looking down at the lankey, toned teen as he grew closer.

Andrew suddenly felt a wave of relief washing over him. This wasn't about what he thought it was. Phew. Rocco must have still been oblivious to his and Bobby's maturing relationship.

"I think so.." Andrew said, feeling seen. He knew he was ready, he'd been ready. Why did this feel so intimidating? A hulking man with a tenth degree black belt stood before him, that was probably why. Right?

Rocco cleared his throat.

"You think so?"

You think so, you little shit? Rocco thought. He'd press his large hands into the medicine ball, digits pressing into the dense, spherical object.

Andrew swallowed a lump, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck standing up a bit, a knot forming in his stomach.

"I'm ready for advancement, sensei. I am." Andrew would attempt to say with a bit more assuredness, chest puffing out a bit more, the weight of that equipment bag becoming a bit more unbearable as he shifted his sneakered feet, widening his stance.

Rocco would push off his desk, eyeing the sixteen year old with a studious gaze. The man towered over him, even though Andrew himself stood at just a little under six feet.

"Tell me why you think you've earned advancement." He said in a firm tone.

Andrew suddenly felt himself doing mental gymnastics. Those rich chocolate eyes, ensconced in heavy, dreamy lids, were dancing back and forth. Pillowy reddish lips parted as he stammered.

"I uh.. I have been taking Tae Kwan Do for over three years now. I was in the top of my class at my last dojo, I always help the newer students.. I uh.. I mentor the younger kids."

I bet you do.

Rocco thought.

Don't do anything crazy.

Carmie's voice echoed.

Rocco watched the boy as he had verbal diarrhea vain and surface level reasons as to why he should get a belt advancement. All while he was replaying what he had heard Andrew say in that room to his friend. Over and over again.

"... I even led the other yellow belts through resistance training last week."

And he would see his Bobby, his sweet boy Bobby, his bright smile. Thinking about what this disgustingly perverted kid said he wanted to pull on him. Knowing that Andrew made Bobby happy and that he was head over heels for a creeper who wanted to take advantage of him.

"So I really think I have earned the advancement to green belt.."

Rocco blinked, coming back to the present. Staring at the sixteen year old Andrew Lawrence who stood before him, leaning a bit to the side to compensate for the weight of that equipment bag.

Don't do anything crazy.

His wife's voice echoed in his head again.

Rocco would let the silence after Andrew spoke fill the air for just a brief moment, before looking the kid right in the eyes, baritone voice speaking clearly and matter of factly.

"I overheard you telling Matt about your plan for Bobby, Andrew."

A choking weight filled the room.

Andrew's heart plummeted into his stomach and out of his asshole. Every little hair on his legs, arms, pits and pubes would stand up. Those sleepy eyes suddenly appearing quite alert, pankcked. Feeling like he was not only caught in a terrible secret, but in a dangerous situation.

The sixteen year old would begin stammering anxiously.

"I- I swear I was just kidding. I would never do any- How did you... Please listen I-"

"Yanno, Andrew. " Rocco said suddenly, cutting the teenager off as he gripped that medicine ball. "I don't think you have it in you. Not to advance to the green belt, but to do those things I overheard you saying you would do. To my son. Who is also what, two years your junior or something? "

Andrew's handsome face was flushed with shame and humiliation. His mouth closed up, swallowing another lump.

"Congratulations on getting your driver's license. Big step in a young man's life."

Rocco smiled tightly, as if there was an enraged expression straining to show, before inhaling, massive shoulders flexing as he squeezed that medicine ball.

"But driving my fourteen year old son to some cliffs. Where the idea was for him to be alone, with only you, isolated in some manufactured attempt to persuade him to.. perform whatever acts are swimming around in that mushy brain of yours." The large, tattooed man would slowly  shake his head.

Andrew stammered again.

"P-lease, sir.. sensei. I won't do it again. I mean, I won't try anything, I mean it." Andrew would squeak out, voice shaky.

The sixteen year old boy was feeling consumed by this moment. Rocco smirked,held the medicine ball out and pushed it against Andrew's chest.

"Hold this." He said sternly.

Andrew's mind was spinning and without even thinking, he lifted his hands to cradle the medicine ball in them. Fear in his eyes.

The room grew heavy in that moment. And without warning, Rocco would ball his fists, the sound of his tight gi rustled as he entered a powerful stance.Andrew, staring straight ahead and holding that medicine ball, frozen as prey to a predator, never saw it coming. 

The large, muscular man would shift rapidly. Muscles flexing and tensing as he quickly launched his body forward, rotating his hips as he kept his bare left foot planted firmly on the ground. That right leg would hike up, bending at the knee, before his foot snapped forward at a speed so fast you could hear it slice through the air as it ascended between the gap in sixteen year old Andrew's wide spread legs.

Locking eyes with the teenaged boy, just as his bare  foot crammed up into his thigh gap, gathering up the material of those thin black gym shorts, *brutally hammering* sixteen year old Andrew Lawrence's soft dick and plump, heavy testicles up and into his pelvis with a LOUD and SUDDEN.

DOOMPH!

A kick so hard it should have been reserved for a man Rocco's size. Blunt force trauma so severe and sharp it would immediately jostle Andrew's body, decimating the teen boys sperm count. The toes of his foot connected briefly but devastatingly at the nesting of chords collected at the back of each fat ball, before the rest of the impact evenly contributed to Andrew's sixteen year old yogurt churners destruction.

“OOH!"

A high pitched, raspy and sharp grunt.

The pain was immediate. Violent. Intense. Andrew's veiny, soft boiled egg sized testicles were flattened between Rocco's bare foot and his pelvis for a mere second, before the spongey meat forced themselves to either side of older, larger man's foot and popped out on either side in his young, pube sprinkled sack. His torso snapped forward, arms going rubbery as the medicine ball rolled out of his open hands, equipment bag shifting and sliding off his shoulder, hitting the ground with a clamor. 

Those heavy, normally sleepy looking eyes were widened now, staring straight into his sensei, Rocco's. Brows were folding inward, those full reddish lips parted wide as his mouth hung open.

"Uhhhh!" Bellowed out from the sixteen year old boy's throat as he felt the stabbing, white hot pain flushing through the squishy layers of his nut meat.

The pain was BAD. So fucking bad.

Rocco smiled. Feeling much better suddenly, and after feeling the meaty contents of sixteen year old Andrew's ballsack get rearranged against his foot, he sharply withdrew it, returning to a normal stance as he watched his work unfold.

Andrew's once dreamy, sleepy eyes were wide, pupils dilated, staring straight ahead. Through Rocco. Because all he could see was the absolutely fucking horrible pain that was burning like a raging fire through his mercilessly wounded teenage testicles. Mouth closing now, tight. Full reddish lips turning inwards as his neck strained, head craning backwards as his now trembling hands managed to find their way between his thighs, cupping his rapidly swelling balls.

That white hot burning pain had flushed through his nethers, splashing into his intestines and wrenching them, as his legs began to quiver and his knees buckled, giving way to the long, lankey, toned teenage boys physique collapsing towards the ground.

"Mmmbbff.. ff... Hmmm.."

His knees hit the office floor hard. Andrew's body began quaking as the crippling pain in his heavy, veiny nuts was consuming every thought he had. His body was entering crisis mode. 

The sixteen year old began spiraling in a rich, heavy mixture of panick and pain. Chest rising and falling rapidly as he began feeling his airways tightening. Full lips parting as he gasped, choking for air. Heaving and panting heavily, wide eyes rolling left to right as thick pools of tears filled them, running down his cheeks to collect and drip from his chin.

Rocco would step to his side, lowering to a squat as he rested the palm of his hand against sixteen year old Andrew Lawrence's upper back, rubbing gently as he nodded, eyes closing, exhaling. Doing a woosah as he let his once seething rage wither away.

"Work through it, son."

As the agonizing pain began bleeding through his body, pulsing and stemming from his bruised and swelling, fully matured teenaged glands, it turned into great fear. Fear of pain that was only growing stronger and more intense with each passing moment.

Andrew's mouth would open as he jerked a bit, inhaling shakily.  "Ugh.. ugh.. "

What began as a raspy groan devolved rapidly into sobbing. A fully grown lad Andrew's age, on his knees, cupping his bruised, fattening nards.

"Oh.. oooh.. Oh my God. My balls, oh god my fu- ugh.. my balls."

His once slightly loose, pube dusted scrotum had begun to shrink up in response. Andrew's body began attempting to draw his engorged nuts up into his stomach. Leading to a slow and creeping nausea that had begun to spread in his guts.

Those tear soaked, once dreamy eyes shutting tightly. A slow gurgling sound began in his stomach as the waves of nausea began to coalesce with the waves of pain. Beads of sweat began dotting across Andrew's freckle splashed, pretty boy features.

Rocco, still rubbing the rattling, sweating figure that was Andrew Lawrence, reached over to grab a waste basket from under his desk and position it in front of the  sobbing teenage boy.

Another tug inside his guts pushed upwards into his chest. The teen would grimace a moment, tears streaming down his face, before straining forward as veins bulged in his neck and his mouth opened wide, a loud and strained series of wretching, gagging and choking sounds as the sweat had begun to run down his face.

Just then, as a burning wet splash of liquids hit the back of his throat, sixteen year old Andrew's eyes widened again, before lurching forward, full body shaking as he began projectile vomiting chewed up and digested Blue Wave Takis into the waste basket.

Rocco would continue rubbing the teenager's back, lips pulling inward as he looked around the office, as if patiently waiting for the lad to finish heaving into the trash.

"You know, Andrew. I'm sure you're not a bad kid."

Rocco spoke again, looking down at Andrew's trembling form as his head was hung over the waste bin.

"But what I heard you saying back there really, really concerned me. You really showed me the kind of man you're choosing to be."

Andrew would lift his head a bit, plump, reddish lips coated in saliva and bits of puke. Those beautiful, sleepy eyes were bloodshot and soaked in tears locked in a thousand yard stare. His bruising testicles throbbing in agony.

"Uuuuugh..."

"Now, Bobby really, really likes you. He's been on cloud nine since you two started seeing one another. And he's been hiding that from us, and now I almost wonder if it's because he doesn't think his mother and I would approve of you."

The large, muscular man would let the hand on Andrew's back reach up, tussling through his clean cut, dark brown hair.

"There are many points in a young man's life where he is provided an opportunity to learn what kind of man he wants to be. Today is one of those days for you, Andrew. I hope you will remember this.”

Andrew would weakly nod, as if to communicate that he understood. The deep, bleeding pain in his wrecked young manhood keeping him shackled to that office floor, the smell of his own puke wafting up from the waste basket.

The large man would clear his throat, before moving his hand to give the wounded teenage boy two hardy claps on his shoulder.

"Now, get your head on straight. You make Bobby happy, and I love it when my boy is happy. Got it?"

Andrew would nod weakly again, before Rocco would clear his throat.

"I'm gonna need a yes sensei."

Andrew would swallow painfully, stomach muscles tensed, aching, body feeling like it was broken and beaded in cold sweats, fighting off the urge to crap his gym shorts.

"... Y... yes.. sensei.. "

Rocco would move to stand up. The hunched over and disheveled sixteen year old Andrew Lawrence remained looming over the waste basket like a zombie. He'd cast a look back as he reached the office door, opening it.

"Remember this lesson, Andrew. It's not one you want to learn again. Take all the time you need, just shut the door behind you. Oh and take that puke and dump it down the toilets. You'll feel better in a couple of days."

Before the large man would step out of the office, leaving the door to shut behind him and the wreckage of Andrew Lawrence in there to recover.

Two weeks later.

Bobby was sitting anxiously at a booth tucked into a far corner of a bustling burger joint. On either side of him were his parents. Rocco, wearing a black polo that was clinging to his muscles for dear life and Carmela, his mother, in a cheetah print blazer with bleach blonde hair, tanned skin and just a little tightening around the face.

"We can't wait to meet him." Rocco said with a smirk, glancing to his wife. 

Carmela returned that knowing smile, brows lifting.

" We're practically on the edge of our seats. And you said we already know him? Who could it be I wonder?”

" Please be nice to him.. I was really nervous about telling you guys in the first place. I was honestly really surprised when he brought up that he thought we should tell you guys."

Andrew had always been a good time. Bobby really enjoyed his company and for some reason, especially over the last two weeks, Andrew had gotten even nicer and more thoughtful.

And just then, Bobby's face would light up as he saw Andrew enter the restaurant.

"There he is.. it's Andrew." The lad said with a flush to his skin. It was very clear that he thought Andrew was just the greatest.

Rocco exchanged another smirk with his wife, before joining Bobby in a wave to flag Andrew over.

The sixteen year old would approach the table, a shy smile crossing his full, reddish lips. Those heavy lidded, dreamy eyes shifting across the family seated there at the corner booth. He seemed very, very anxious.

" I'll be damned. Andrew! From class?? Haha. C'mon and have a seat, kid. We don't bite." Rocco's thick, muscular, tattooed arm would extend out for a handshake, those eyes locking with Andrew's.

A slightly nervous glance was given in Rocco's direction, before the teen slid into that booth to join them. His hand, shaking ever so slightly, would reach out to clasp Rocco's in what would be a firm handshake, followed by a wink from Rocco to his son's boyfriend.

One that spoke volumes.

Soon their voices mixed and bled into the crowd and the meeting went on to become a great success. Rocco was sure he had made an impact on Andrew's life, in more ways than one. Definitely two. And he got to make sure that his son's formative relationship was one that went very, very smoothly. 

The end.