Joining the Team
by Wrestlr
4. Curt and Trace: Training Trace
While Diego was eager to get into Berto’s pants, Curt was reluctant to seduce Trace. He’d put it off for days. Curt had kind of known, in the back of his mind, that what happened to him and the rest of the team would probably happen to Trace too, once he got to college and joined the team, but Curt hadn’t much thought about how it would happen. He assumed Coach or Master Tom would be the ones to introduce Trace, Berto, and the other new members to the artifacts and the special training. Curt had never anticipated being the one to have to indoctrinate a newcomer, much less his own brother.
Curt regretted making the seduction pact with Diego. Maybe they should have agreed to do each other’s brother? For Curt and Diego and the team to be cock-suckers and butt-fuckers was fine, but Curt just couldn’t imagine being the one to train his own kid brother to enjoy getting down between some stud’s legs to suck a stiff dick or eat out an ass.
At eighteen, Trace looked exactly like a younger version of Curt. Same blond hair cut swimmer-short, same height, same general frame but slimmer, less of the muscle mass Curt had worked up in the gym this past year. Though he had graduated from high school a few weeks ago, Trace still had the aw shucks appearance of an innocent boy at the onset of manhood.
As he rinsed his hands post-piss, Curt studied his face and bare chest in the bathroom mirror. He looked good, he knew; he needed to look good, stay in peak shape, for the team, for Coach and Master Tom. He hadn’t seen his buddy Diego since the afternoon they’d made the pact. Which meant Diego—that horny fucker!—had likely gone through with seducing Berto with the artifact and had spent the last several days getting his rocks off with his brother instead of coming over to suck and fuck with Curt. Dammit, Curt had gone from getting off two or three or more times a day to just one hurried daily jack-off session, and he’d become really fucking horny, which was wearing him down. He’d gone over to Diego’s place that morning in hopes of finding Diego and some privacy to suck, fuck, get off together, and instead he had found Berto, alone and looking freshly awakened, and Curt couldn’t resist the temptation. Good thing he had been able to find the artifact. Berto even offered it up, probably not realizing what Diego had been using it to do to him!
Just the memory of his episode with Berto, getting the guy under the artifact’s influence, getting him naked, getting him to suck cock and jack himself off while he did it, was making Curt’s dick wake up. He stroked it through his shorts, felt the small hardness of the artifact tucked in his pocket alongside it. Now that he had the thing, what would he do with it? Yeah, he and Diego definitely should have made a pact to train each other’s brother. That would’ve been a lot easier for Curt than having to train his own.
Curt exited back into the bedroom he was sharing with Trace. They were in the process of staying up late, sitting on the floor and playing a high-adrenaline video game, trash-talking, jostling each other, like old times. They had the upstairs entirely to themselves since their parents slept on the ground floor. Trace had stayed glued to Curt’s side almost nonstop from the moment the older swimmer had gotten home from college days ago. Normally, that would have amused Curt, having his kid brother bask in his more mature radiance, but Trace’s constant proximity increasingly reminded Curt of his agreement with Diego. And now Curt knew Diego had gone through with his side of the pact with Berto! Curt felt the pressure was on him now.
Earlier that evening, when they settled down to play, Curt had yanked his T-shirt up over his head—since being introduced to the artifacts, wearing clothing always seemed alien to him, and he took every chance he could to strip off his shirt, maybe go down to just his team underwear too. Some weird curiosity made him want to see whether Trace would follow suit, and sure enough, just a few minutes into the game, at the first lull in the action, Trace did, baring his slimmer torso and the little nubs garnishing his pecs. So now the older brother unhitched his jeans and kicked them off, ignoring Trace’s teasing comment about, “Ooo, sexy underwear, bro! Can’t you afford anything with a seat covering your butt?” Yeah, like Trace hadn’t made that comment before, every time he’d seen Curt strip to his underwear the last few days.
But Trace took the bait and stripped off his shorts too, settling back in his briefs to resume play. Curt eyed the teenager’s tight little ass in the clinging underwear and the generous mound cradled in the front. He could see the outline of the kid’s meaty peter in the pouch, a ridge angled off to one side. Yeah, Trace had all of the right stuff in all the right places. If he had been just another teammate and not his little brother, Curt would definitely have made a move on him.
Stripping to his team briefs was the most that Curt would allow himself. Being shirtless was like playing at being macho, sitting around their bedroom bare-chested with his kid brother, and shucking his jeans seemed like upping the manhood stakes, but dropping his underwear would have been pushing too far for Curt, in spite of his agreement with Diego. Curt was too horny, too used to getting off multiple times a day, and he just didn’t trust himself. He both wanted and didn’t want to go through with seducing Trace.
Trace had cavorted around in just his underwear for the rest of the evening, making a couple of trips to the kitchen to fetch drinks for both of them. Each time he returned, his briefs seemed to have been scrunched lower on his hips. In spite of his hesitancy over his pact with Diego, Curt admitted to himself that his little brother was turning into a very do-able stud, and he had to struggle not to get an erection.
When the two ended their game and logged off. Trace pulled himself onto his bed and leaned back against the headboard, one knee cocked up, highlighting the wad of meat in his crotch. Curt couldn’t help washing his eyes over the teenager’s frame, the unintentionally seductive pose, and he felt a knot in his stomach as his cock twitched inside his team briefs. Yeah, Trace’s pose made apparent that he was endowed as well as any ready-to-go stud.
Trace scratched at the tube in the front of his underpants. “Fuck. I’m, like, stupid-horny,” he complained.
“’Stupid-horny’?”
Trace scratched at his nuts bagged in his briefs. “Yeah, like, when you’re so horny you’ll do something stupid just ’cause you need to get off.” He cut his eyes at Curt’s crotch. “You must love college—you can get laid any time you want.”
“Pretty much,” Curt chuckled, thinking about his teammates’ ever-available cocks and mouths and asses.
“Lucky you. I’m gonna go in the bathroom and jack off,” Trace groused. “Or I can stay here and we can do it together, if you wanna join me?”
Curt paused. Had Trace really just suggested they jack off together? Or was he playing some game? Maybe his kid brother wasn’t as innocent as he’d thought. While he considered this new perspective, Curt asked, “You beat off with guys a lot?”
“Sure! I jack off with my friends all the time. It’s a lot more fun than doing off by myself, and you get to see what the other guy’s packing. Maybe you don’t have to jack off now you’re in college and getting laid all the time, but didn’t you do it with your friends before? Like Diego?—You ever seen him naked?”
Curt decided Trace had to be teasing, a dare, seeing how far he could push before Curt blinked. He decided to play along. “Sure. We’ve been on the swim team together since ninth grade. I’ve seen him naked zillions of times.”
“Ever seen him hard? I bet he’s got a big one.”
Bigger than you’d believe, Curt thought. “Why are you so interested in Diego’s cock tonight?“
“His brother Berto, he’s got a big one. I saw it a lot in the locker room after swim practice, but never hard. I tried to get him to jack off with me a couple of times, but he’s too shy. So I was wondering if it gets as big hard as it looks soft. I figured you might have seen Diego’s ...?”
“Yeah, Diego’s got a big one.”
“Cool!—I knew it! I like jacking off with guys who have big ones. Mine’s pretty middle-sized. I wish it was bigger.”
“Every guy wishes his was bigger. I’m sure you’re hung just fine.”
Trace grinned. “Yeah? Wanna see it?” He tugged down the front of his briefs and his cock flopped out, three-quarters hard and stretching. “What do you think? Will I measure up as a college guy?” Trace’s eyes raked up and down Curt’s body. “You’ve got a really nice body, Curt,” Trace beamed as he openly admired his brother’s physique. “I wish I was built like you.”
Caught off-guard by the compliment, Curt smiled back and shrugged his shoulders. “You’re getting there, squirt. Hell, just you wait—a few months on the college team, and you’ll be amazed at the results.”
“You think so?” Trace grinned. He gripped the base of his cock, made it wave back and forth. “What about my cock? Is it big enough for college? I don’t want to be the smallest guy there.”
Curt’s cock twitched in response. Was his horniness interfering with his judgment? He couldn’t forget the battle he was having with his cock or the pact he had made with Diego, but Curt stepped up to the bed and appraised the teenager’s body, mentally comparing Trace’s cock to his own. “There’s nothing wrong with your body or your dick. You look just like me when I was your age. If you want to bulk up some, you just need to work out more with weights. The team will get you on a good program.” Yeah, steer this talk of dicks back to a safer subject.
“I do that at the gym every day after work. My muscles are hard,” Trace countered, rubbing one palm over his abs. “See? Tight and hard, right? I’ll bet my abs are as firm as yours. Wanna feel?”
Curt wanted to feel, but knew if he did, his lust would win and he wouldn’t be able to hold back any longer.
Trace unexpectedly grabbed Curt’s wrist and pulled Curt’s hand to his abdomen, just above his navel. Curt’s fingers contacted his brother’s hard muscle and smooth skin. Curt felt himself gulp. As much as he knew he should pull his hand back, he wanted to leave it where it was—or reach just a little lower to where Trace’s hard cock jutted out and up a few inches below Curt’s hand. Trace’s abs felt warm and solid. “You seem like you’re in shape to me,” Curt managed to croak. He stood there beside the bed with his palm soldered to Trace’s stomach. All the while his own cock pulsed to even more hardness in his team briefs, his balls demanding relief.
Trace’s hand shot up to cup Curt’s crotch. “Yours is the same size as mine? Take it out—I wanna see it. Please?”
“What are you doing?” the twenty-year-old asked in a throaty whisper. He could sense Trace’s hand inching its way higher along his briefs, the younger fingers walking toward his waistband. Their eyes locked, searching the other’s expression for the first sign of alarm—or permission. Then Curt felt his own fingers slide down the last millimeters to graze along the length of Trace’s shaft.
“Fuck, yeah,” from Trace, a breathless whimper. His fingers reached into the waistband of Curt’s team underwear, pulled down the front, but didn’t quite free Curt’s cock. “C’mon. Get naked and let’s jack off,” Trace whisper-urged. “I wanna see.”
Curt took a step back, away from Trace’s cock, away from Trace’s hand about to grasp Curt’s dick. “Jackin’ off’s fun, but have you ever done more than that with a guy?”
Trace dropped his eyes, suddenly turned back into the shy younger brother Curt had been afraid of seducing, instead of the forthright cocky younger jock who’d moments before been talking about jacking off and trying to get his hands on Curt’s dick. “No ... but, uh, I’ve thought about it sometimes. I think I wanna try more stuff ... just to see what it’s like. I tried to talk one of my friends into blowing me, but he didn’t want to.”
“Would you have blown him back?”
Trace’s confidence was returning. “Sure. Fair’s fair, right? Have you ever tried doing something with a guy?”
Curt knew they were reaching a point where they could no longer turn back. He realized that Trace had been looking for an excuse to get naked and sexual with him all evening long. The stripping down to his underwear while they were playing the video game, the treks to the kitchen with his briefs getting lower with each trip, finally showing off his hard cock and reaching for Curt’s. Trace probably thought getting a few of his friends to drop their pants and jack off together made him a master at seduction, so he must have been wondering why Curt just wasn’t picking up on his hints, when all along Curt was struggling with the pact he’d made with Diego to be the one to seduce Trace. Apparently Trace knew what he wanted but not how to ask for it. And what Curt had to give him would mean something the kid wasn’t expecting ... But it was inevitable anyway—once Trace joined the swim team, he’d be introduced to ... And then the fact they were brothers wouldn’t matter anymore because they’d be teammates, and teammates were always willing to ... So whether Coach, or Diego, or someone else was the one who brought Trace into the fold, it was going to ... At least if Curt was the one, he could ensure ...
Trace’s bravado had made the situation clearer, and Curt made his decision. “Sure,” he answered. Then more confidently himself: “Yeah, I’ve done stuff with guys.”
“Really?” Trace’s eyes widened. “Like sucking? Ass stuff too? Who was it?”
“Let’s just say all the swim team members take care of their teammates’ needs.”
Trace’s eyes widened further; his jaw dropped. “Really? You’re not shittin’ me? Everyone on the team does it?”
“Yeah. In twos, or threes, or sometimes”—several times a week—“all of us together after practice. It’s like an incentive. Coach and Master Tom say the team performs better when the guys’ sexual needs are taken care of.“
“’Master Tom’? Who’s that? Like a sensei or something?”
“He’s”—the guy who controls us, the one all of us, even Coach, obey without question, our master—“the guy who developed a special training program for us ... and he taught us a lot about sexual stuff.“
“Like how to do it and all? Everyone on the team does it? Wow, I never thought about ... Sooo, when I’m on the team I’ll have to do it too?”
“Yeah. Fair’s fair, like you said. And besides”—you’ll be under Master Tom’s control too—“it feels good, knowing you’re helping out your buddies and they’re helping you out too. But just giving and getting pleasure isn’t enough—skill is important too. You gotta do a good job, gotta know what you’re doing.” Bait dangled—would Trace go for it? And if he did, would Curt be able to go through with it?
“Can you ... uhm ... Can you teach me ... how to do some of that other stuff? I mean, I don’t want to get to college and have the guys on the team laugh at me ’cause all I’ve ever done is kid stuff like jacking off.”
“No one will laugh at you. I’d never done anything with a guy before college myself. I had to learn, and the team taught me. We all learned together.”
Trace nodded, mulling these new facts. “Okay ... I still wanna ... Can you ...?”
“Can I what? Teach you to suck cock? Fuck ass? Get fucked?”
Trace looked away, blushed. In a quiet voice: “Yeah.” Then, his back straightened into confidence, a decision made, and he looked Curt in the eye. “Yeah—all of that. I wanna learn. I don’t wanna get to college and have the team think I’m some inexperienced hick. If there’s stuff I like doing and stuff I don’t like, I wanna know before I get there, so I don’t make a fool of myself with the team. I know it’s weird ’cause we’re brothers, but I want you to ...”
“Okay. If that’s what you want.” Curt was surprised by how willing he felt. Maybe going through with his pact with Diego would be easier than he thought, now that he knew Trace wanted it. And wasn’t that why he had gone over to Diego’s house that afternoon to borrow—
Oh, right—he had the—
“Tell you what,” Curt said, as if the idea was suddenly occurring to him, “I know something that will make this easier for both of us—something that’ll lower our inhibitions and make us both feel real good.” Curt stepped away, located his discarded jeans on the floor. He retrieved the artifact from a pocket and held it up for Trace to see.
To Trace, the inert thing probably looked like a circle of dull metal, unremarkable. “What’s in it? Some kind of—” Trace mimed sniffing something off his wrist.
“No, no. It’s not a drug.” Curt transferred the artifact to his palm and waited. “It’s something Master Tom showed us.” And waited. “You might not remember after it wears off the first few times, but it feels better than any drug.”
Trace looked skeptical. “If it fucks me up so bad I won’t remember, what’s the point?”
Why wasn’t the damned artifact activating? “You’ll start remembering eventually. Took a while for me, at least. The first several times, you’ll wake up and you’ll know you had a massive orgasm, stronger than any you’ve ever felt before, but you won’t remember anything much about it. You’ll still feel the afterglow part. That part’ll stay with you for a few hours. Feels real good. Just trust me, okay?”
“Okay. But I bet I’ll remember.”
“Think so, squirt?”
“I know so! I bet I’ll remember everything.”
Curt smirked a little, knowing his kid brother had no clue what was about to happen—once the damned artifact woke up and started doing its thing. Come on, dammit!
“So ... What does it do? How does it work?” Trace obviously was growing impatient. “Or you can just show me some stuff without it. C’mon, I’m real horny. I need get off real bad.” He shifted, slipped his briefs the rest of the way off and, naked, sat cross-legged the bed, his cock standing at maybe three-quarters hardness. “Here, can I see it?” Trace held out his hand, palm up.
“I think I’d better hold on to it. It’s kind of old and—” Curt began.
“Oh, come on. What’s the big deal?” Abruptly Trace leaned forward, and his hand swiped the artifact off of Curt’s palm.
“Hey! Give it back,” Curt barked, keeping his voice down so their parents downstairs wouldn’t hear, and he lunged for Trace’s hand.
“Nope!” Trace yelped as he rolled aside, bare skin sliding underneath Curt’s. Trace’s hand and the artifact were barely out of Curt’s reach. Then something changed in Trace’s expression, eyes widening in surprise. “Oh,” he said, as if suddenly understanding some puzzle. “Oh,” he said again quietly, body giving a shiver and going slack as, in his open palm, the artifact began to unfurl and glow and the effect washed over them both.
Curt smirked, feeling the effect, the rush, travel through his nervous system too, feeling his cock and horniness rise. He could surf the effect for a while but knew Trace was probably already lost in it. “Not so ... cocky now ... ar’ ya ...”
Trace was still. His expression had softened, gone far away, eyes locked on the artifact, the wing-like membranes that seemed to turn in a slow, complex dance. “Oh ...,” he said again, softly.
“Thass it ... Watch closely,” Curt told him. His team underwear. Curt needed to get out of his team underwear, and he did, moving clumsily thanks to the soporous effect that made thinking and moving so difficult.
“Better ... take that ...” Curt eased the artifact from Trace’s palm, transferred it to sit on the bedside table, and he smiled at the way Trace’s gaze tracked it the whole way. Yeah, his little brother was gone, stoned, hard-dazed by the effect—and judging by the way his exposed cock was throbbing, Trace was sure feeling good. “Like that ... huh? ... Way yer feelin’?”
“Yuh,” Trace said, making the slightest nod, dazed eyes not leaving the glowing artifact.
“Good ...,” Curt managed. He could do this. He knew what Master Tom had said to the team many times. Now he just had to say the words to Trace. “Just breathe ... Deep ... Slow ... Don’t fight it ... Let it do its work ... Keep looking into ... Gonna happen on its own ... Just relax ... Enjoy ... No worries ... No distractions ... Listen to my voice ... Look deep ... Let it take control ... Relax ... Breathe ... Take ya down ... into trance ... Like going t’ sleep ... Can’t stop it ... Don’t wanna stop it ... Want it t’ happen ... Like going t’ sleep ... Trance ... Feels so good ...”
“Yuuuh,” Trace said again, voice sluggish, eyes only half-open now and easing lower.
“Deeper ... Like sleep ... Trance ... No distraction ... Focus ... My voice ... What you feel ... Relax ... Let it ... Trance ... Feels so good ... Deeper and deeper ... Feels better and better ... Enjoy ... Listen ... Obey ... So easy ... Obey ... Trance ... Deep trance ... Sleep now ... Deep trance ... My voice ... You feel ... Obey ... Deep trance ...”
Trace gave a quiet sigh as his barely open eyelids flickered.
“Good ... Deep trance ... Ready ... Obedient ... Obey ... Right?”
A quiet sound from Trace: “Uhrr ...”
“Good ... You like it ... a lot ... Understand ... yer part of ... a team ... Team helps each other ... Helps ...” Curt eased himself on the bed with Trace. “So easy ... Obey ... Roll over ... All fours ...”
Trace tried to move a little but couldn’t seem to remember how. Curt had to help, soon had his naked brother on his hands and knees on the mattress, legs apart, and Curt knelt between them. He felt as if his body was moving on auto-pilot too, as if he was no longer in control of deciding what to do. Curt felt like he was watching as his hands, one on each cheek, gripped Trace’s ass, parting the halves, revealing the crevice and starfish hole inside. Curt’s body leaned forward, and his tongue licked. He tasted Trace’s musk and sweat.
“Mmm,” Trace groaned again as Curt’s tongue wet his hole.
“Like that ...,” Curt said between licks, not sure whether he was giving an order or stating a fact.
“Yennn,” Trace murmured, voice low.
Curt thought maybe Trace pushed back just the faintest amount, as if trying to capture more of the tongue jabbing at his butthole. For Curt, that was the cue to let himself go, and he let his body take over, let his teeth nip at the hard-muscled rounds of Trace’s firm cheeks, let his tongue spread saliva along the hairless divide, and let his tongue drill at the little anus. A year ago, the idea of licking a guy’s ass would have disgusted Curt, and here he was doing it enthusiastically to his brother.
Curt heard himself say, “Want me ... stick my dick ... up yer ass ...,” and again he wasn’t sure whether this was a question or an order.
Either way, Trace responded with, “Yehz ...”
“Good ... Soon ... Get ya ready ... Get ... on yer back ...”
As Trace sagged down onto the sheets and rolled himself face-up, Curt’s body had already scooted forward, turned, and reached into Trace’s bedside table for the jack-off lube secreted in the drawer, the lube his younger brother probably didn’t think Curt knew about. As he slicked a finger with the lube, Curt murmured, “Focus on artifact ... and how ya feel ... Stay relaxed ... Feel better ...”
Curt didn’t have to remind Trace to focus on the artifact. The effect it was washing over them was inescapable, even if they weren’t looking at it. Trace’s face stayed sort-of aimed in its direction.
Curt lifted his brother’s legs, curled them to his chest, knees apart. “Stay ...” Trace held the pose. The angle lifted his butthole up, and Curt slipped that lube-slick finger between the cheeks and tapped gently at the puckered entrance. When Curt pushed, his finger slid into the tightness. Another push and deeper still. A slow in-and-out, out to awaken and stimulate the nerves in the asshole, and in to search for the magic prostate. His other hand cupped Trace’s balls, weighed them, fondled the skin, rolled them with his fingers. Trace made a sound that ended as a whimper of pleasure. Yeah, his brother was deeply gone into the artifact’s influence. Everything Curt did to him would feel good.
Curt’s hand on his brother’s balls shifted upward, circled the cock-shaft, lifted it away from Trace’s belly. Curt bent forward and licked at the cock-tip as he slipped a second finger into the younger swimmer’s ass. When Curt put his mouth over the cock-head and began to swallow as he slowly finger-stroked the butthole, Trace made a faint writhing motion and a “Hrrauh” leaked out of his throat. A third finger. Another incoherent sound of pleasure. Nearly ready.
Curt’s mouth pulled away from the cock. Couldn’t let Trace cum too soon. Not with so much to be done. He hoisted the guy’s ankles and rested them on his shoulders, then set about generously slicking lubricant over his cock. “May hurt ... at first ... Focus on pleasure ... Artifact ... Let ... pain ... flow away ...”
Curt’s body knew what to do and did it, pushing forward, making Trace’s tight hole start to yield, pushing. Curt’s cock was average-sized. Good thing he was Trace’s first, part of him thought—because Diego’s big dick would have split Trace in half.
Curt’s hips pushed again, and the head broke past the sphincter and into Trace’s ass. “Hraah,” his brother moaned, a tight sound. A protest? Pleasure? Curt didn’t care. He hip-pushed again, feeding more cock into Trace’s butt, and together his hand began feather-stroking Trace’s cock as his dick moved in and out of Trace’s ass.
His thrusts timed with the recitation. “Focus ... Gonna feel so good ... You belong to ... the team ... Takin’ care of them ... Them takin’ care of ya ... Feel so good ... Breathe deep ... Deep trance ... Obey ... Belong ... Feel so good ...”
Trace, his mostly closed eyes still pointed toward the artifact, gradually stopped moaning and started breathing little sighs of pleasure. His balls began to ride up—
Slow down. Curt slowly eased his cock out of its new home in that ass. “Stretch out ... Gonna enjoy ...” He slathered lube on two fingers and reached back to probe his own hole, drizzling lubricant over Trace’s cock with his other. Soon Curt’s body straddled Trace’s hips. He squatted, lowered himself, guiding Trace’s cock until the slick cock-head penetrated Curt’s fuck-hole. After a moment of hesitation as Trace’s meaty flange stalled at Curt’s sphincter, the weight of the older swimmer won out. The cock pushed through and Curt sat down all the way to Trace’s pelvis. Curt was fully impaled on his brother’s stiff dick and he felt like the breath had been kicked out of his lungs.
A few moments later he recovered and began to pump his hips up and down, fucking his brother’s cock in and out of his ass. “Feel so good ... Belong to the team ... Feel so good ... Breathe deep ... Deep trance ... Obey ... Belong ...,” he chanted as he rode Trace’s cock.
After the merest minutes—too soon!—Trace’s body shivered, gave the familiar signs of approaching orgasm. The horny kid must have a quick trigger, Curt thought distantly. They’d need to work on endurance, but later. He slid off the cock and, between Trace’s parted knees, lifted his legs again and reinserted his cock in Trace’s ass. This time, the hole was still loosened, so it fit easier. Curt fucked him face-to-face, a hand rubbing Trace’s cock, and recited the instructions Trace needed to hear.
Hardly a minute in—less?—Trace gasped, and his body tensed, and this time his orgasm was unstoppable. He groaned as his cum shot out, the thick string of it spurting across his chest, a second, third, and the rest oozing out. Another several seconds of continued muscle tension, and then Trace’s body relaxed, spent, limp.
Curt pulled out and jacked himself as best his artifact-clumsy muscles could manage. The look on Trace’s face—his body lying there—resistance, mental and physical, completely gone—completely under the artifact’s influence—too much! Curt began to cum hard, so hard, so ...