Chapter Text
Parker sat in the dimly lit booth, letting the music wash over him. He could barely hear it. His teammate Evan was chattering away about the tournament, but Parker couldn't hear that either. The only thing that mattered to him was the medal sitting cool against his chest. His world centered around it, the weight of it bouncing as he breathed. A grin hadn't left his face since the winners had been announced. Sure, the medal was only bronze, but it was the first one he'd gotten in the under 12s bracket at gymnastics.
“Roberts, you good?” came Coach Walker's voice, snapping him out of his reverie. “Have a drink, kiddo.”
Parker blinked and turned to the coach. The man was in his forties, with graying hair and a hint of stubble that Parker found himself rather drawn to. His pale green eyes were full of concern, and something Parker couldn't quite put his finger on. He shrugged it off and took the water bottle in one hand, the other still holding his medal. “Thanks,” he beamed.
Coach Walker ruffled Parker's dirty blond hair and chuckled, before handing out bottles to some of the other boys. This was one of his bizarre rules for post-tournament pizza parties: pizza was fine, but any soda was forbidden. Something about looking after their bodies, but Parker was pretty sure Coach was just cheap. “Drink up, boys,” he said once he was finally done handing out the water.
Parker did as he was told. He was thirsty enough to gulp it down without complaint before he started to attack a slice of pizza. It was meat feast, with so much grease and cheese that it more than made up for the lack of soda.
Every few bites, the coach would remind the boys to stay hydrated. He did this a lot at training, but it was starting to get absurd now. Parker was going to need to pee pretty soon, and peeing in a leotard was about as easy as you'd expect. A few of the other boys looked uncomfortable, but they all obediently drained their water bottles the same as Parker.
The evening wore on. Parker crossed his legs, hoping he wouldn't have to peel down his white leotard to pee, but it was more and more clear that he was going to have to. Something strange was happening to the lights, too. From the corner of his eye, he could swear he saw them move. Like they were dancing. The thought made Parker giggle, and once he'd started he couldn't stop.
“Something funny, Roberts?” asked Coach Walker, putting a hand on Parker's thigh. His fingers tugged at the bottom of Parker's red shorts, rubbing his bare skin. It felt good. It felt really good.
“No, Coach,” said Parker, but he couldn't keep his face straight as he said it. What exactly was funny? His eyes were drawn to the wall now. The burgundy décor was swimming before him. The patterns changed a little. Was this because he was so tired from the tournament? He clutched the medal around his neck, a grin spreading across his face.
The coach's hand moved even further up Parker's thigh, until it almost met the bottom of his leotard. Parker knew he should push him away, but it felt better than he could describe. The man's fingers reached some deep part of him, like they were touching him all over and not just on the leg. Parker sidled closer to the man, feeling his warmth. He practically purred.
“Come on now, no time to mess about. You need the bathroom?”
Oh, the bathroom! He'd forgotten. “Yeah!” he said, so abruptly that a few of the other boys started to laugh. They seemed to be having similar difficulties to Parker. Across from him, Evan was transfixed by his own hand.
Parker moved a little to the side, edging around the circular bench. Coach Walker and Jake both moved to let him pass. As he stood he almost tripped over his own feet on the way to the bathroom, giggling. He really was tired. The under 12 bracket was much harder than the under 10s had been.
He managed to find the bathroom, though the diner felt much larger than it had on the way in. Parker was almost in a trance as he opened the door into the bright white light of the bathroom. The walls in here had the same strange shifting patterns as outside. He found himself reminded of the Egyptian hieroglyphics he'd been studying in school that week. The thought didn't quite make him laugh, but he had a smirk on his face as he tugged down his shorts and pulled his dick out the side of the leotard to pee.
Oh, fuck. His body felt ten pounds lighter as he walked over to wash his hands. He gripped the enamel by the sink as though he might float away. As he did, he made eye contact with his reflection in the mirror. His face looked different. There was a wide, Cheshire cat smile that hadn't gone away since the winners had been announced. Had his hazel eyes always been that hazel? Parker leaned over the sink, water still running, lost in his own eyes. His cheeks seemed strange, too. It was like his face was made up of hundreds of smaller faces, all grinning back at him. The visual was so funny that he had to laugh, a tinkling sound that mixed with the running water like an orchestra reaching their crescendo. If anyone walked in, he must look high.
Perhaps he was high. Coach Walker had been awfully insistent that he drink his water. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he knew that he should be scared right now, but it just seemed so fucking funny.
“Roberts!” came a voice from outside. “Roberts, I swear to God if you're jerking off in there...”
Parker laughed again and turned off the water, drying his hands on his gymnastic shorts. “Coming!” he called. The idea of jerking off suddenly seemed awfully appealing. Now he didn't need to pee, his dick felt almost electric. He absent-mindedly rubbed it as he opened the bathroom door to find himself face to face with his coach. “Hey,” he said a little slowly.
“Come on, Roberts.” The older man's voice was kind but firm. “Let's get you to the van. We're going to an after-party, remember?”
Parker blinked. After-party? Something stirred in his memory. A permission slip he'd begged his mom to sign. A disco in a warehouse with some rich donors. “Yeah!” he exclaimed, snapping back to reality for a moment. It was going to be awesome!
“Attaboy,” said the coach, ruffling Parker's dirty blonde hair. It felt nice, and he almost purred again, but stopped himself. The other diners would think he was some kind of weirdo. “Let's get going. Everyone else is already strapped in.”
Parker followed the coach into the cold October air. They made their way to the coach's minivan. The other five boys were sitting in the back, which left Parker to sit in the front. Score! He hardly ever got to sit in the front. A wide grin on his face, he clambered up to sit down and buckle himself in. The coach got into the driver's seat and started the van.
Behind him, Parker heard giggling and noticed the other boys pushing and jostling each other. Not all that weird usually: on the way there the coach had stopped the car to have Parker move away from Jake because they wouldn't stop their tickle fight. This seemed different, though. The other boys had far-off looks on their faces as they looked out the windows to watch the world go by. The colors of the passing cars were brighter than normal somehow, like everyone had gotten a neon paint job while they'd been eating.
Parker wasn't sure how long the drive took. They were flying through the streets, passing through a blur of light and color like something out of a Tron movie. It couldn't have been long, but time seemed to stretch and twist in on itself. Every time Parker looked at the clock on the dashboard, only a minute had passed. The thirty minute drive to the warehouse felt like an eternity.
Eventually, they arrived. It was in the middle of a run-down industrial area. The warehouse looked like it hadn't been used in months before today. A lot of cars were parked outside, and Parker could hear music pumping in the background. The bass thundered through him, matching his heartbeat. He stumbled from the car and followed the rest of the team inside through what looked like a side entrance.
The six of them – seven, including Coach Walker – crowded into what looked like an employee break room. Inside, the pumping music was almost overwhelming. There were two couches. Parker joined Evan and Cole in diving onto one of them, the three boys giggling. Sandwiched between his two buddies, Parker felt a strange thrill as their bare thighs rubbed against his own. There was plenty of room on the couch to spread out, but none of them seemed to want to.
“Now, boys,” said Coach Walker, standing in the center of the small room. Across from him, Parker saw Jake, Spencer and Joel snuggling on the other couch. “It's important that you're on your best behavior today. We have some very important donors here, and I want you to show them what you can do. We've got some cute outfits for you to try. I want you to show off those bodies tonight.”
Parker blinked and turned to Evan. The other boy had the same shit-eating smirk Parker had been wearing all day, and his eyes looked a little too large for the rest of his face. They seemed to dance in and out of focus. If Evan thought it was weird to be told he was going to show off his body, he didn't look it. Well, if Evan wasn't scared, neither was Parker.
“I'd like you all to take one of these pills. The music is a little loud, I don't want you getting headaches.” He walked around the room handing each boy a little blue pill and another bottle of water. They didn't look like any painkillers Parker had seen before, but Evan and Cole both took theirs with a swig of water, so Parker took his too. “Good boys. Jake, take your pill. That's it.” He checked in all of their mouths to make sure they'd taken their pills. “Now, be good. I'm going to fetch your first lot of outfits.” He left the room, leaving the boys to their own devices for a while.
Parker turned to Evan, grinning. The other boy's curly brown hair fascinated him. Since the tournament, the curls were a little tighter than usual. In the dim light, there were far more of them than there should be, giving his face an odd, bushy look. Parker's eyes kept slipping over them, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Evan was staring back, equally entranced by Parker. The two of them looked at each other for what felt like hours.
Eventually, Coach Walker returned carrying a small box. He handed Jake, Spencer and Joel a little ball of fabric and then turned to Parker's couch. As the coach gave each of them the fabric – which, Parker realized with dawning horror, was his outfit – Jake burst out laughing. Once Parker got his own outfit, he understood why.
The “outfit” consisted entirely of a pair of thin camouflage briefs. Parker's were the standard green. From the corner of his eye he could see that Evan's were orange, and Cole's were red. None of the boys knew what to make of this. Parker glanced across at Evan to gauge his reaction. He was biting his lip, staring down at the underwear in confusion.
“We're all guys here,” said the coach, who didn't seem bothered at the boys' reactions. “Fold your clothes up on the couches when you're done, and you can go out on stage.”
On stage? Parker bristled at the thought. Changing with the team wasn't so bad, but he had to get on stage? A room full of strange men – and in his mind, they were all men – were going to watch him and his buddies dancing around wearing these?
“Remember, boys, there's no room on the team for gymnasts who can't do as they're told.” Coach Walker turned to Parker, eyes narrowing slightly. “We don't want your first medal to be your last do we, Roberts?”
The bronze medal sat heavy against Parker's chest, contrasting with the white of his leotard. With a gulp, Parker stood up and placed the medal down on the couch. “Yes, Coach,” he said.
Following his lead, Cole and Evan stood up too, tugging off their shorts and folding them on the sofa. Parker kicked off his sneakers and slipped his shorts off too. As he did, he noticed he was starting to stiffen up inside his leotard. Fuck. He paused, glancing around at the others. Nobody had stripped off completely yet. Cole had a sheepish smile on his face, his normally pale cheeks a faint pink in the dim light. He had his hands over his crotch casually, as though he were a soccer player waiting for a penalty.
“Cole, put your outfit on,” barked Coach Walker in the voice he reserved for intense workouts. “And maybe you can have this back.” He pushed past Parker to grab hold of Cole's silver medal, snatching it away and stuffing it into his pocket.
Cole looked like he'd just been hit. He immediately started to pull the top half of his leotard down, turning to face the couch as he stepped out of it entirely. Parker got a glimpse of his erection and felt a thrill as his own little boner twitched at the sight. It was big! Far bigger than Cole's skinny frame suggested. It even had a few hints of hair at the base, though that could just be the lighting. He didn't want to stare too much, though. Not when he was about to strip off as well.
With a deep breath, Parker joined Cole in stripping off. He pulled the underwear on as quickly as he could.
“Nice ass, Roberts. Shake it for me.” Coach Walker's hand came down on his bare butt, patting it the way he sometimes did at practice.
Every eye in the room turned to look at Parker. Most boys were in some stage of undress, their willies on full display, but none of them seemed to care. Jake giggled nervously, tugging up his underwear – which were a bright pink camouflage pattern – and adjusting his dick inside it. Parker felt his face flush. “What?” he said, unable to keep his face straight. Jake's laughter was infectious; why was this so funny?
“Shake your ass, Roberts. C'mon, this is what you'll be doing on stage.”
Parker wriggled his hips, feeling his boner flop from side to side. He saw Cole staring at it. It was a little weird, but he'd been staring at Cole's. Fair's fair, right?
“Good boy.” The coach gave his ass a little pat. Parker shivered as he felt the man's large hand caressing him. It was wrong; he knew that, but it made his boner pulsate in a way it never had before. He was almost painfully hard as he pulled his camo briefs all the way on. They were awfully thin, he noticed, and tight enough that he could feel his cheeks hanging out of them. They were far tighter than the Hanes boxer-briefs he usually wore, that was for sure. His boner pointed straight up at his tummy, straining against the thin material and twitching with every movement he made. “Socks off too. Some of our friends like to see little boys' feet.”
Jake laughed so hard that he could barely keep himself straight up. He bent down low, tears in eyes as he tugged off his socks. Parker smiled, but didn't laugh out loud. Ever since Coach Walker had grabbed his butt he'd felt something strange and electric in the pit of his stomach. It was a little like when he humped his pillow in bed, but deeper than that. It pulsed through his whole body, not just his dick.
All the same, Parker pulled off his ankle socks and balled them up inside his sneakers. The other boys did too, with varying degrees of reluctance. Jake struggled to catch his breath long enough to remove his, but Spencer glared up at Coach Walker as he took his socks off. Parker could see why Spencer wasn't happy: his briefs were a pale lilac that contrasted with his slicked-up brown hair. At least Parker had gotten a manly color.
From his vantage point on the couch, Parker could see that every single one of the boys had a boner. That was kinda weird. The only one he'd seen hard before was Evan, and that was at a sleepover a few months back. He'd always assumed he was a freak for looking around in the locker rooms. Were they all freaks too? The realization made his smile widen. Jake – who'd managed to stop laughing for a moment – caught his eye and began another fit of the giggles.
“Now, boys, when you go out on stage I want you to walk in a single file line. Think of this like a fashion show.” He ruffled Jake's short blonde hair and grinned. Parker found himself unable to look away from the man. How were Coach Walker's teeth so white? “Walk slow, and move your hips about. Shake those asses just like young Mr. Roberts here did.” He nodded to Parker, who blushed and tried to look as though he hadn't been staring at his coach.
“Yes, Coach,” the boys chorused. At training, they sometimes worked on saying it in unison. Now, though, that proved difficult. Jake was still fighting his laughing fit, and Spencer spoke so quietly that Parker wasn't sure he'd said anything at all.
“Are you ready to show these guys what you've got?”
“Yes, Coach!” This time the boys managed a little better.
With that, Coach Walker led them down a dark corridor, the music getting louder and louder the closer they got to wherever it was they were going. Before Parker knew what to think, they were approaching the stage.