SUBURBAN LEGENDZ: Sick Day

 

Tate now knew it was sort of true what they say about taking sick days in the suburbs. Not the ‘never do it’ workaholic part, but the ‘world goes by without you’. That the suburbs are so far away time moves at a different pace in the city.

The ONE day he got sick out of a whole year, couldn’t even get out of bed, and it’s on ‘Adopt a Jock’ Day. Tate had to bitterly watch Ravi feed his jock son. Ravi was an intern and hadn’t even wanted a jock, the other guys at the company made him. Tate had watched, pouting via video call, as his friend Philippe streamed the entire thing. 

The thing was, before flyers popped up over the residential neighborhoods, Tate didn’t even know what Adopt a Jock Day was. No one did. Nor did they know who published the posters. Everyone assumed it was a charity event like auctioning off people to raise money. Harmless, so to speak. However, there was something in Tate that secretly had to admit he was interested in the absurdity. Okay, so they adopt the jock, but then what?

Too bad he’d never know because the world's worst 24 hour cold kicked his ass.

When Philippe called, Tate had tissues up his nose, it was going on at 9pm. The ‘adoptions’ were being held in a hall like a magic show with a big stage curtain. The seating arrangements, however, were round tables. Philippe was sitting with a few folks from work at his table. The host stepped out and his face was so unmemorable. What was memorable was the curtain opening to reveal hunky jocks of all shades in nothing but jockstraps, hats and shoes. Tate caught spit in his throat, shocked. Was it an adoption or a strip show? Nothing but a bunch of athletic college bros hanging out in the skimpiest wear, hands behind their backs.

“It really means a lot to me that men such as yourselves want to help raise these Jock boys. They need a guiding hand.” The host clapped his hand, and the curtain closed on the jock boys. Tate tried to peer and see if it was truly only men at the event, but sadly the screen didn’t have a good angle and Philippe was too invested.

“Who wants to adopt their very own jock?” The man asked the crowd. “I assure you the joy of fatherhood is immeasurable. A boy to call your very own!” 

Tate wanted to hop through the screen and shout, “Me!”

“He’ll do it!” a coworker at Philippe’s table shouted as Ravi was shoved up on stage. At the time Tate felt bad seeing their poor intern getting goaded into playing along. 

Ravi stood hunched in, shy and awkward, white dress shirt and black slacks. Brown skin sweating under the lights. A bit comical as he looked the same age as the jocks. Tate chuckled and realized he probably was. He wondered if any of those boys were Ravi’s friends. The host pulled the young man aside asking him questions about his likes, dislikes, what he looked for in a son. In the end the host asked for a drumroll as search lights wandered around the curtain before coming together as one at the bottom center. A jock stepped out, ripped, sexy, well endowed.

The host clapped Ravi on the back, “Congratulations on becoming the new proud father of Cohen!”

Cohen strutted up to Ravi flexing, then pulled a double bicep pose as the crowd cheered.

The host continued, “Cohen’s an adorable hunk. His head’s empty, but don’t let that deter you. He can learn, he’s just waiting for you to fill him with your love.”

“Um, hi?” Ravi stuck out his hand.

Cohen eagerly grabbed it then held it up, “GUYS THIS IS MY DAD!” Everyone cheered and clapped, as the two made their way back to the table. Philippe got them approaching on his phone. Ravi sat in his chair pushed away from the table and then Cohen sat in his lap. No one there batted an eye, but Tate was shocked. The jock had just squatted his ass down like he was doing a squat, naturally, no hesitation or nothing. His ass, Ravi’s crotch. Cohen sat there content as Ravi awkwardly put his arms around the guy.

Tate rolled his eyes; the two young men definitely fucking knew each other. Probably were at the same college. Which meant the whole thing had to be a prank. Philippe set the camera down and it was positioned on those two for a while as the adoptions kept going. Tate heard them announce more over the speakers and he wanted to see, but he was quietly seething, watching Ravi get all chummy with Cohen. Tate was sure it was his sickness, messing with perspective, but Ravi appeared to be getting larger, there was more space for Coehn to lean back onto. A button flew off Ravi’s shirt as his chest knocked it off, two massive pecs lying underneath. Tate rubbed his eyes; those certainly hadn’t been there before. More buttons came off as black hair sprouted for the center.

Philippe happened to pick up his, “Sorry, almost forgot about you there.”

“Do you see what’s happening with Rav—

“Oh, the next jock is coming!” Tate’s question got cut off as the phone was turned to the stage.

“Give it up for Fabian,” The host got the crowd to applaud. The Latino male came out and strutted like he knew he was the shit. He stuck his tongue out striking his cock through his jock showing how well-endowed he was. “Fabian’s a bit of a rule breaker, marches to the beat of his own drum, But there's a heart of gold…deep down in there.” Fabian made his way over to his dad and only nodded in response. The buff Korean male almost looked to be at a loss for how he got saddled with Fabian. They walked off stage together, Fabian smacking his ‘adopted’ father’s ass. The room laughed and Tate looked on with a sour face. This just wasn’t fair.

Philippe followed them with the camera back to their seat, as Ravi and Cohen came back into frame Tate leaned forward, Ravi was massive. He looked like he could eat two other Ravi’s, and he had facial hair growing. His longer legs were spread along the floor perfectly encasing Cohen’s, the jock sitting much more relaxed.

Tate fumed as the camera took them off screen again. He needed to drive into town and get there. Upon standing, the immediate vertigo planted him right back in bed. His luck was fucked.

When he got to work the next day, he was better than ever. He had even gotten over watching so many people ‘adopt’ jocks. It was hilarious waking up because the whole thing felt like a fever dream. Adopt A Jock Day was so absurd. Whoever had created the prank was really creative. He got on the elevator, and the music was a nice low hum as he got off onto his floor.

Waving his hand, he greeted the front desk assistant and walked to the breakroom. He froze. Ravi was there, but not the meek intern, the hirsute man that had appeared during Tate’s cold. The man was shirtless, chest bare, while his man spread legs provided a nice seat for Cohen. The two faced each other making out, Cohen squeezing on Ravi’s pecs.

“What the fuck?!” Tate blurted out.

“Mr. Osen language,” Ravi said, placing his hands over Cohen’s ear. “You know he picks up everything.” Ravi whispered.

“What’s he doing here?” Tate pointed at Cohen.  He thought the prank was over. Everyone had a nice time and people were fooled. There was no reason for it to continue.

Ravi smiled with perfect teeth showing, “Oh, come on Mr. Osen, you know it's time to bring your son to work.” He gave a hearty laugh that filled the room like a warm hug.

“Where are his clothes?” Tate swallowed.

Ravi looked down, shocked at Cohen, as if he was just noticing, “Christ, this boy.” He slapped his forehead, freeing Cohen’s ears. “Where are your shorts?”

“I don't like wearing them. It’s harder to play sports.” Cohen whined and his bro-ey voice stressed each syllable perfectly well. 

Tate backed out of the breakroom, watching the two have a mockingly paternal discussion. He sprinted to Philippe’s deck almost pushing his friend over as Philippe had just gotten off the elevator.

“Slow down, where's the fire?” Philippe asked.

Tate pointed to the breakroom, words fumbling. “Ravi, he's gotten bigger and Cohen from last night is there and Ravi said it was ‘bring your son to work’ day.”

Philippe rolled his eyes, “Every day is ‘bring your son to work’ day.” I know, I hate that joke too.” He pulled off his coat, throwing it on his chair.

“Are you serious right now?” Tate turned to Philippe dumbfounded by his friend’s nonchalant attitude. “They are in the breakroom making out practically ready to have sex.”

Philippe shrugged, “Father and sons, am I right.”

“Listen to me,” Tate grabbed Philippe’s arm pulling him close. “Ravi, our intern, looks like a freaking gym bro. How are you not freaking out?”

“He’s just stepping into the role to be a good dad for Cohen. It’s pretty obvious,” Philippe answered. Then he leaned closed, “You seemed pretty excited last night to adopt a jock, what happened?”
 

Tate let go of Philippe’s arm. It was a good question. Why had he been so adamant about adopting a jock? Sure, the guys were attractive, and he was horny and single but there was more than that. Leading up to yesterday he hadn't been able to think of anything BUT that. Now that it was gone, he felt mostly like himself again. A small pang of jealousy remained over not being able to attend, but he wasn’t obsessed over it. The cold had come and gone, taking it all away.

Ravi came out of the breakroom with Cohen following behind him, tossing a football up in the air and catching it. Cohen’s ass and bulge were in view of the whole floor. No one said anything. Ravi caught Tate eyeing them and misinterpreting said, “It’s better than a fidget spinner,” He pointed back to the ball.  

The day went on and Tate watched as everyone acted normal with a mostly naked young man wandering through their floor. He was mostly attached at Ravi’s hip, but he had moments where he had to let energy out and asked people to toss the ball around. Everyone humored him, letting him go for the ball like a dog playing fetch. Though again this was in their workplace.

Ravi was running around as he was still the intern, and people were openly fawning over his ability to handle so much responsibility with Cohen there. 

Rolling his eyes, at his desk Tate turned away from the scene, office chair spinning just in time as Cohen crashed into his lap. 

“Oh, sorry dude,” Cohen laughed, rubbing his muscular jock body on Tate as he climbed off him. He smelled like deodorant and Ravi. Cohen’s cock was annoyingly hard. Tate didn’t know how anyone else was doing it. He almost thought his coworkers were oblivious to Ravi and the jock’s charm.

But then he stepped into the storage closet. 

He just needed a minute to collect his thoughts, closing the door behind him. Turning around, he spotted Cohen squatted in front of a female employee. Her skirt and panties were off on the floor, while Cohen ate her out expertly. She was using her own hand to cover her mouth to suppress her moans. She opened her eyes, seeing Tate there stunned. She tapped Cohen’s head. The young man turned around, face wet. “Please don’t tell my dad.” he pleaded like a kid caught with hand in the cookie jar. Tate backed out, nodded and closed the door. He took a longer look around the office, women's shirts were undone, guys were adjusting themselves. 

They weren’t immune to the allure, so at least he wasn't alone in that.

During a team meeting Ravi was in a back corner wiping down Cohen’s face with moist towelettes. Tate snickered. Ravi probably didn't even know the reason why: Everyone wanted to fuck his son. Ravi then got the unenviable task by the team lead to go pick up their lunch order making Tate go with him.

“What, why me?”

“Tate don’t be difficult, you know how hard it is to reign in a jock like Cohen in the city?” The team lead fired back.

Which led to Tate watching Ravi feed his son ice cream after being pestered to buy it. A detour from their actual stop. Tate was upset he couldn’t join everyone in the delusion where a jock could wander into a store ass out and no one batted an eye. 

Cohen took a try at feeding Ravi ice cream. Light brown drops fell onto Ravi’s pecs and abs as Cohen missed. Ravi helped, opening his mouth wide to swallow the spoon.

 

 

Tate groaned in private. That should have been him. He didn’t want to be sane; he wanted to be as crazy as everyone else. He wanted a hot guy dripping ice cream over him that nobody batted an eye at. The universe had truly given him a personal fuck you. He tried to keep them moving but Ravi said the office would understand delays with Cohen there.

The ice cream continued to drip, and Cohen decided the best way to get it all up was with his mouth. Jocks had some weird solutions.

 Eventually Tate had to leave them to get the order on his own. He couldn’t fucking believe it. He was never going to get sick again, or he'd move into the city. The entire town had decided overnight the jocks were in and Tate was the only one not in on the memo. He spotted a few jocks’ wandering around with their adoptive dads. Made Tate’s blood boil. He could only thank the restaurant through gritted teeth. 

Maybe one day, ‘Adopt a Jock’ would come back, and Tate could force himself to go. He came upon Ravi and Cohen sitting close, the jock a bit more well behaved and calmed down. Tate sighed. He was never taking a sick day again.