Knuckles Laughing Novels & Stories

The first punch wasn’t even the worst part. It was the laughter. Kendal’s laugh—low, cocky, like he’d just won some dumb game—echoed in my ears as I stumbled back against the locker. My glasses slipped down my nose, and for a second everything blurred. “Still running your mouth, Donalds?” Kendal sneered, cracking his knuckles like some wannabe action star. His crew hovered nearby, smirking like hyenas.

Pain shot through me and everything around me became fuzzy for a moment. Laughter burst around me, echoing off the tall ceilings until it felt like it was in my head. I didn't get up. I couldn't so I crawled. I moved across the freezing ice on my hands and knees, my jeans soaking through instantly. I gathered the hard rubber discs one by one. Every time I reached for one, I slipped. Every slip brought a fresh wave of laughter. Knox watched the entire time. He leaned against the boards, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked relaxed but disgusted. Like a king watching a peasant. But his eyes never left me.

》》Jason Dutton《《 Jack and I burst into laughter at the epic fail we had just witnessed on the tv. Jack then started choking on popcorn. I gave him one hard slap on the back and his choking was replaced by a scream. Calvin burst into laughter at this as Jack threw cushions at me whileI died laughing. Just then my phone started ringing. "Boo! Don't pick it up!" Jack sulked. "Yeah it's interrupting our afternoon slash night chill session," Calvin added in agreement.

I laugh to myself because he can't honestly think by doing that would bother me. "Don't make me re break your nose, Dan. Go. Now. All of you." Ryan leans forward and hoots with laughter. "Kelly did that to you?" He jolts backwards, his mouth opened wide with booming laughter. "I thought you said a weight fell off the barbell and got ya during lifting?" Danny punches Ryan's shoulder to shut him up but that doesn't silence the other laughing bodies. "It did," he lies and turns his blazing sapphire glare back on me. I narrow them right back and cross my arms over my chest.

It's the most bizarre, unthinkable reaction possible, but there's no helping or taking it back once it's out. “I'm sorry,” I manage before another laugh bursts out of me. “It's just... What is this? Did somebody script that for you? And you,” I add, waving a hand to the thug. “How many times did you practice cracking your knuckles to get it to happen just like that?”

I was still laughing, the face he gave me when I kneed him was hilarious. "Why are you like this?" He asked me and I stopped laughing trying to understand him. "First you don't want me to touch you the way I know you want, then you buy me fucking lube and lastly you kneed my fucking hard-on," He growled and another episode of laughter erupted from me, he was hard when I kneed him? "And you find it funny!" I took a huge breath in and looked at him smiling, "I'm probably not sorry but it was funny," I looked at him and he smiled too leaning down and putting his lips on my neck. "Ew Ant!" He laughed against my chest and looked at me.

I tease back. 3333 holds his arm and the other two laugh, “He punches hard, huh, 3333.” 3222 makes fun of him. We all laugh and 3333 punches me back, “Yes, I said what I said.” I smirk, grabbing him in arm hold and I rub his head with my knuckles giving noogies, “Say I’m not soft. Say it!”

The day before the high school reunion, the queen bee who'd bullied me for three years suddenly posted a video in the group chat. In the video, my 220-pound high school self was locked inside a bathroom, with a piece of paper stuck to the back of my uniform that read: [No Food for Pigs] The group chat instantly erupted. [Holy shit, she's coming to the reunion?] [Do you think the hotel chairs can hold her?] [After all these years, she can't possibly still be so fat she won't even fit through the door, right?] Naomi White, the queen bee who'd led the bullying back then, tagged me. [Old friend, everyone wants to see you. You have to come to the reunion this time.] Soon, someone started

“Come on, high five.” Greg shook his head with a mischievous grin. “No, Mommy. We mafia no longer do high five. We do knuckles. Knuckles fisting.” I laughed through fresh tears. “Okay, let’s go. Let’s hit the knuckles.” Our fists met in a gentle bump. I hugged him so tight I never wanted to let go, my heart overflowing. Then my eyes lifted, and fixed on a figure approaching from outside. My mouth fell open slightly. “Jamal…?”

Knox responded simply. Giggling, I knelt in front of him, my hands less than steady as I began the careful task of shaving him. The razor glided over his skin, defining each muscle more clearly with every stroke. Despite my focus, I accidentally nicked him twice, each time caused by his laughter. Laughter sparked by the playful teasing that flowed effortlessly between us. Once finished, he inspected my handiwork with a satisfied grin. "See, now no more scratches for future baby bump interactions," he teased affectionately.