"You called me a stud," Clark pouted.

"No I didn't. I said which one of you studs thinks you're a better quarterback than me?"

"And then you called my name." Clark stood by the loft window, arms folded, back to the jock.

"I didn't mean to." Whitney wrapped his arms around the Freshman. "Besides, nobody noticed. But something tells me that's not all that's bothering you."

"You promised not to pick on freshmen again," Clark conceded, pulling away from his boyfriend of three months.

"I didn't."

"So what was that crack about me being too busy milking cows to try out for the team?"

"Clark, I thought we agreed that acting like we normally would around each other was the best way to keep our relationship a secret."

"We did. But you don't have to go out of your way to be deliberately cruel to me. And what about Abby?"

"I didn't start that."

"But you didn't stop it either."

"Clark, I'm on the team. I have to act like one of the guys."

"Even if someone gets hurt in the process?"

"Look, I'm sorry for what we did to you and I'm sorry about Scabby...I'm sorry about what the guys did to Abigail, but I can't go around policing the entire football team."

Whitney once again place his arms around Clark, noting that for all his anger, Clark hadn't pulled away from him this time. He took a chance and placed a kiss on the back of his neck. Clark sighed and leaned into the kiss.

"So you think I'm a stud?" Clark smiled.

Whitney nuzzled the slightly taller teen's neck. "I sure do."

"And you promise to be more careful about us?"

A light kiss along Clark's jawline and a whispered "Yes," against his cheek.

"And you promise to be a defender of underdog freshman."

Whitney laughed and turned Clark around in his arms. "If it will get me laid tonight...then yes."

Clark scowled at his lover before breaking into one of his captivating smiles. "It might."

"Tease." Whitney pulled the boy closer. "Seriously, I would never do anything to hurt you...never again."

Clark studied the pleading blue eyes before him. "I believe you," he said before placing a kiss on the mouth he'd been longing for since the pep rally.

Clark pushed him back against the sofa letting his weight carry them down until he lay stretched out on top of Whitney.

"You make an excellent tackle," Whitney murmured between kisses. "Why is it you don't play football again?"

"Because," Clark began, punctuating each word with a kiss of his own, "It's not safe for me to be in a locker room with a certain sexy quarterback."

Clark pressed his body firmly against Whitney's adding emphasis to his last statement.

"Are you sure I can't call you stud?" Whitney asked huskily.

"Only one we're both naked."

Whitney squirmed underneath Clark to get his tee shirt off. He kicked of his sneakers and heard them hit the wooden floor with a loud thud. Clark raised up slightly allowing the jock to undo first his jeans then Clark's. Clark wiggled out his jeans kicking off his shoes as well. Whitney helped the boy out of his plaid shirt and tee, tossing them to the side.

"Okay stud, show me what you got."

Grabbing Whitney's cock in his large strong hands Clark spoke, "Let me show you a technique I use when milking the cows."

Whitney gasped as Clark's hands worked wonders on his leaking cock. As he shut his eyes and enjoyed the farm boy's technique, he wondered what other useful things Clark had learned on the farm.