Shane didn't wear underwear. Danny knew that because they'd been in seventh-grade PE together the past semester. He'd made the discovery in the locker room one day when Shane pulled on his Levi's, carefully stowed his cock inside, and slowly fastened the buttons - except for the top one. Danny hadn't realized he'd been staring until he looked up past Shane's hard abs and chest and found the fourteen-year-old watching him, a knowing smile on his face.
"Got you hard, didn't I, buddy?"
Danny blushed and looked down at his four-inch woodie - and quickly pulled on his tighty-whiteys. Shane squeezed the younger boy's shoulder.
"It's okay, buddy."
Danny found his voice.
"Why don't you wear underpants?"
Shane reached inside his Levi's and adjusted his stiffening pole.
"Because it feels better without them." He winked. "And it's easier to get it out. Especially when it's hard."
Danny understood. For jacking off, of course, something that he'd only recently become aware of.
More than a year older than most of his classmates, Shane's September birthday had made him the oldest to start with, and then he'd been held back in the second grade. Where Danny and one or two of the others had a little fuzz between their legs, Shane had a full growth of pubic hair and the beginnings of a dusky treasure trail. Hair wasn't the only thing that had grown, and the other boys were secretly envious.
While not the brightest crayon in the box, Shane was easy-going and got along well with his classmates. Danny had taken notice of him early in the school year, and wanted to get to know him better, but, other than PE, they had no classes together. Outside of the school setting, Shane hung around with a couple of boys his age - paperboys he worked with.
But Danny made the most of PE - getting a locker close to Shane, going to the shower with him, and doing his best to be on the same team. He wasn't sure if Shane noticed his efforts, but the older boy was always friendly and called him buddy. Being Shane's buddy was important to Danny.
Danny had previously noted that Shane didn't towel himself completely dry after his shower, as opposed to Danny himself who fastidiously removed every drop of water. Shane's broad back was always wet when he pulled on his white muscle shirt. Although a minor thing, it spoke to Danny of the older boy's relaxed approach to life. Like not wearing a belt. And leaving a button unfastened. And going without underwear.
Danny left the locker room that day with a damp t-shirt. And when he got to his hallway locker, he took off his belt and hung it inside.
************
When he got home, Danny went to his room and stripped. Then he put on his JCPenney jeans and carefully zipped them up. He would have preferred button-up Levi's like Shane's, but his parent's could only afford the cheap imitation.
Shane was right - the denim felt good, especially against his suddenly-stiff cock. He stood in front of the full-length mirror and checked himself out. Blond, slender, and pale without his summer tan, he was a far cry from Shane's dark, muscular good looks. He needed something to be more like Shane.
Getting a pair of scissors from the bathroom, Danny cut the sleeves off one of his t-shirts, creating a makeshift muscle shirt. Putting it on, he stood in front of the mirror again. This was better. He flexed his biceps. Not too bad for a kid who was just short of thirteen.
Unzipping his jeans, Danny pulled out his boner, also a far cry from Shane's. He stroked it gently, and then spit on his hand and stroked it less gently. He smiled at his reflection. He was a stud - like Shane. He stroked a little harder. He'd jacked off a couple of times lying on his back, but this was how Shane would do it - watching himself in the mirror.
Engrossed in the process, Danny hadn't thought about the ending, which came quickly. With a gasp of surprise, his knees buckled and he pasted sperm against the mirror.
He quickly stuffed his shrinking cock into his jeans and carefully zipped them up. Slipping down the hallway into the bathroom, he wet a washcloth and returned to clean up the mess he'd made. He'd have to be more careful in the future. It wouldn't do for his mom to find dried jizz on his closet door mirror.
His mom would also wonder why there was no underwear in his laundry hamper, so he'd have to remember to put a clean pair in there every couple of days.
************
The newspaper shack stood on one corner of a large vacant lot, alone except for an aging sign proclaiming the property to be the future home of The Church of the Second Coming. It was a toss-up as to whether the shack or the sign, an optimistic token of unrealized expectations, was the most dilapidated.
The shack itself was the source of the daily news for about three hundred nearby homes. Deposited by a delivery van around five in the morning to five waiting teenagers, the newspapers would all be on doorsteps, or in steel delivery tubes, within an hour or so. Some would be delivered by bicycle, others on foot.
Danny had wanted to be a paperboy for as long as he could remember, and even more so once he found out Shane was. It was one of the few employment opportunities available to a thirteen-year-old, and he'd waited anxiously to be old enough. Tomorrow, the first Monday after school was out, his dream would come true. Shane was taking a new, longer route, so his old one had become available. He'd recommended Danny as his replacement, and The Tribune had authorized the change.
Danny's alarm clock went off at four-thirty. Dressing quickly, he went to the kitchen, filled a bowl with Wheaties and milk, and sat down at the table. Today there would be no time to re-read the information on the cereal box for the umpteenth time, but he did read the encouraging note his mom had left him: Good job, Danny. Have fun.
In the pale light and chill air of early dawn, Danny left the house with his new paper-carrying bag in place on his shoulders. He was glad he was starting in June rather than December - he could learn the route in the daylight.
Shane would be showing him the ropes, after which the two of them would also deliver the papers on Shane's new route. It would be an educational morning.
Arriving at the shack, he found the delivery van pulling away. Three older boys he knew only by sight leaned against the outside wall. The oldest of the three took a draw on his cigarette, exhaled, and looked at Danny with the cynical eye of imagined maturity.
"What are you doing here, kid?"
"I'm the new paperboy for route four."
"Bullshit, you gotta be thirteen."
"I am thirteen."
"Who do you think you're kidding? Get the fuck outta here."
Shane spoke from behind his replacement, quietly but firmly. "Shut up and don't give Danny any crap, Kent. He's taking over my route."
The bravado disappeared immediately - after a face-saving response, that is.
"No shit? Next thing you know, they'll be hiring first-graders."
Shane put his hand on Danny's shoulder.
"Danny, the loudmouth blockhead is Kent. He's fifteen, and he's been doing this the longest, has the most papers to deliver, and thinks he knows everything. The other two are my friends, Mateo and Scott. They're both fourteen and great guys. Now, we all oughta be folding papers."
Differentiating between Mateo and Scott was easy. Contrasting with Scott's blond buzz cut and blue eyes, Mateo's longer black hair, dark eyes, and light brown skin corresponded directly to the heritage suggested by his name. Beyond that, dressed in Keds, Levi's, and white t-shirts, they could well have been twins.
At an age where size and age often established the pecking order, Danny briefly wondered how it was that Shane commanded the respect of the oldest and most experienced carrier. There wasn't time to think about that, though.
As Danny entered the shack for the first time, he took stock of his surroundings, which were simple. The shack was about fifteen by twenty feet, the size of his parents' bedroom, with the door at the center of one end. Along one wall was a four-foot-wide, waist-high workbench. Five piles of papers sat on the bench, one for each route. A single bare light bulb in the center of the room was the only source of light, other than a small window above the workbench. At the far end of the bench, a king size mattress stood upright against the wall. Danny was curious.
"Why the mattress?"
Shane laughed. "The guy who had my route before me had a hard time getting up on weekends, so they gave him a key to the building and let him sleep here."
"Who else has a key?"
"Only the guy who brings the papers. Now, let me show you how to fold newspapers."
Besides folding the papers, there were lessons on how to get the most papers in the carrying bag and how to balance the front and back. There were also some plans for the day.
"I usually use my bicycle, but today we'll both walk. Our routes are short enough that we can get all of the papers in our bags. We'll deliver yours first. I wanna make sure you know the route, and that means more than just where the houses are."
In the course of the next hour, Danny learned who had delivery tubes, who wanted the paper through their mail slot, which dogs to watch out for, and who was hard to collect from. Then they had to speed up to get Shane's papers delivered on time.
They finished next to a neighborhood park and found a bench to relax on. Shane looked at Danny and smiled.
"You look beat."
"I am."
"It gets better. Tomorrow will be easier. You'll have to do your own fifty papers, but you won't have to walk as far. Don't forget to update your information when you get home, and to bring your subscriber list tomorrow. And if you think of any questions, you can ask me in the morning."
"Okay."
"And Saturday, I'll help you with your first collection day."
************
The third day, Danny learned why Shane had clout. Danny had arrived first, and was folding his papers when Kent showed up.
"Well, look who's here. Right on top of things." He began to stuff Danny's folded papers into his bag. "Thanks for doing my work for me."
Danny wasn't having any of it. "Those are mine, you jerk. Fold your own."
Scott and Mateo came through the door.
"What's up?"
"Danny boy doesn't understand he's supposed to fold my papers for me. That's what the junior boy is supposed to do. Got a problem with that, Danny?"
Danny did have a problem with it, and was vocal about it. That was the excuse the bully was looking for. Danny was fighting back against punches when Kent suddenly found himself collapsed against the wall, gasping for breath. Holding Kent in place, Shane spoke softly.
"Is there a problem, Danny?"
"Yeah. Kent took the papers I'd folded. And when I told him not to, he tried to beat me up."
"Is that true, Kent?"
"No, he's lying."
Shane slammed Kent against the wall so hard the building shook and the light bulb in the ceiling shattered. Then he spoke as quietly as before.
"I don't believe you." He shoved Kent towards the door. "Get out of here."
Kent fled, and Shane locked the door behind him before turning to Danny.
"You okay?"
"Yeah."
"Good, let's all fold papers. I'll let him back in when we're finished."
Shane, Mateo, and Scott began to fold their papers and load their bags as if nothing had happened. Overcoming his shock, Danny joined them. They worked in silence for a couple of minutes before Shane looked towards Danny.
"He tried that on me my first week here. He won't bother you again."
"What did you do to him? How did you do that so fast?"
"Martial arts. You oughta think about learning karate."
"I will."
************
Collecting was another lesson in interacting with others. Shane watched while Danny did the talking at the first few houses, and then gave him some advice.
"It's fine to introduce yourself by name, but say, 'your paperboy, Danny', because that's how they think of you. Most people will be surprised you're there to collect, even though you do it every week at the same time. Almost all of them will pay up, and most give good tips, especially at Christmas. If they say they don't have the money, let it go once. The second week, politely tell them delivery will be stopped until they pay what they owe. That usually solves the problem, but if not, don't listen to excuses and don't give in. It's your money they're not paying you."
They stopped at a couple of homes where people were moving in, and Shane showed Danny how to get a new subscription. And he had specific instructions at selected homes.
"Don't go inside that house. The guy who lives there is weird."
"That lady came to the door naked once. I think she has a thing for younger guys."
"If that kid offers you a tip and invites you inside, do it. He gives good head."
Danny had no idea what good head was, and he was reluctant to ask. But he was about to find out.
************
The Sunday paper was a pain in the ass with additional papers, and inserts to be added to each one. Kent's dad was going to drive him around. Scott, Mateo, and Shane owned bicycles with baskets in front or over the back wheel. Danny stuffed as many unfolded papers as he could into his bag, but about a dozen remained on the workbench. He commented to Shane.
"I'll have to come back for the rest."
Shane chuckled. "I had to do that my first week. It works, but I'm sure you'll come up with something better."
Danny headed out on his route, grumbling a little and rolling the papers only if they needed to go into a delivery tube. By the time he headed back, he was sure that the others had finished and gone home. But when he arrived at the shack, he found Mateo's and Shane's bicycles leaning against the wall and his remaining papers in Shane's basket. Curious, he started to enter the shack, but was stopped in his tracks by what he saw.
Shane was leaning against the back wall. His shirt lay on the workbench, and his Levi's were unbuttoned. Kneeling in front of him, Mateo's head bobbed up and down on his hard shaft. Shane's hands rested on the sides of Mateo's head, and his hips moved slightly forward each time Mateo's mouth moved down. Shane was speaking softly.
"Yeah, like that, Mateo... You're really good at this... Okay, I'm gonna cum now."
Shane stopped moving. Mateo's head moved a couple more times and then he swallowed hard. Pulling off, he stood up. Shane grinned at him.
"Thanks, Mateo. That was great. Just like last time."
Quickly backing away from the door, Danny grabbed his papers out of Shane's basket and hurried away.
Stunned by what he'd seen, Danny delivered the rest of the papers on autopilot before returning home. Sitting on his bed, he thought some more. Now he knew what giving head meant. Shane had enjoyed it, and having someone else do that to you probably meant it was better than jacking off.
But why did Shane leave the door open? The answer came to him quickly. Shane wanted Danny to know what he was doing - what went on in the newspaper shack. Shane was looking towards the door the whole time, and probably knew Danny had watched.
Standing up, Danny pulled off his shirt, unzipped his jeans, and stood in front of the mirror. As he watched himself stroke his shaft, he thought about what he'd seen. It made him harder, and when he blew his load, it felt better than ever before.
************
The days turned into a couple of weeks. Danny now used his bicycle. He quickly learned how to balance the extra weight of the full newspaper bag. He found an old basket in a nearby vacant lot, and his dad helped him mount it on his bike.
Danny never let on to Shane that he'd seen anything unusual, and Shane never raised the subject. But Danny started riding past the shack after he was done with his route to see if anyone else was there. Maybe he could watch again and learn more.
After a couple of weeks, Danny had enough money to make a planned purchase. His mom took him to a couple of clothing stores, and he came home with a muscle shirt and a pair of shrink-to-fit, button-fly Levi's. After his mom had washed them, they fit just snug enough to show his middle leg - like Shane's did.
The next day, Danny wore his new clothes to do his paper route, a little nervous about how Shane would react, if he even noticed. Shane noticed, and his eyes twinkled a little as he commented.
"Nice duds, buddy."
Danny blushed.
"Thanks... buddy."
"Scott, Mateo, check this out."
The two boys stopped folding papers. Shane lifted the front of the younger boy's shirt.
"Muscle shirt, Levi's, no belt, top button open, a little fur showing... Anything underneath, Danny?"
Danny grinned happily. "Nope."
Mateo poked Scott. "Does he remind you of anyone?"
Scott thought for a moment. "Hmm... Do you think he's trying to look like Shane?"
Shane smiled. "He could be my little bro."
Danny glowed with happiness. Being Shane's little bro was even better than being his buddy.
