The deep flush spread down the running back's neck, past the collar of his too-tight t-shirt. Sascha felt his stomach knotting up painfully, knowing full well what was about to come. He couldn't help it but outwardly grimace when at the finger that dug iinto his chest, as if it was trying to poke his heart out. It was all Sascha could do not to push Tim away, duck, and run. But he managed to stay where he was, mouth flattened into a grim line.
There was no way in hell that, pitted against each other in a physical fight, Sascha would come out on top. Tim probably weighed twice as much as he did, three-quarters of that being sheer muscle. It hurt just thinking about it. Sascha opened his mouth to say something, but paused. - Mr. Popular Quarterback stepped closer and the younger boy thought he was joining his friend; he thought that this was it. But then, Wes laid a calming hand on Tim's back.
Sascha flashed the boy a confused look, then wriggled out and away from Tim as fast as he could. "Make me shut up?" He asked, incredulous, from the other side of the bench. "I don't suck dicks for free, if that's what you mean."