--Will

Coming to Terms

by
Will S
2006

Chapter 9

Things bogged down at our last mountain. It took longer getting to the top, and once we got there, the radio wouldn't work. It took almost three and a half hours to do what we should have gotten done in one. When we finally got back down, it was 5:30. We still had a long way back to the cabin.

"Eric...how would you feel if we stayed another night?"

"Really?"

"I don't think we have much choice."

"Awesome."

"I'll radio the ranger station; they'll call and let your mom know."

He seemed suddenly visibly lighter.

We hadn't talked much during the day. Somehow the daylight hours seemed to fill with other stuff, but I could see the wheels turning inside that beautiful head; it was no surprise.  Eric had a lot to think about.

We fished for our supper, then followed what had become our usual routine, getting the campsite cleaned up by about 8:00. I laid a tarp out on the ground and then spread my sleeping bag on top of it. I sat, nearly nude, on the sleeping bag. The soft ground scrunched under my butt as I settled in. I listened to the stream. Eric had gone off to "take care of some business."

I must have had a lot on my mind, because before I knew it, he'd surprised me by plopping his naked self down next to me. He had his sketchbooks with him.

"You said I'd learn about what turns me on..."

"Yeah?"

"I kind'a know," he said; he looked like the cat that ate the canary.

He handed me one of the books. I opened it up to find incredible drawings of young teen boys completely naked. The detail was extraordinary. Some were sporting erections, with their balls pulled up tight. Others were...ah...more "relaxed". Some were standing in very sexy poses, others were reclining as if at poolside.

"Eric...these are incredible!"

"Yeah, I guess. They're okay," he said shyly. He blushed.

"Well, you've got me coming to attention!" We both laughed, and he snatched a look toward my breech-clout-covered manhood.

"Who are they?"

"The biggest of the capital 'F' fucking assholes."

"Eric!" I oozed in a mocking tone, "That isn't very nice."

"Sorry. Capital 'F' fucking, capital 'A' assholes. Is that better?" His tone was playful, but not too deep beneath it was a bitterness and pain.

I understood that all too well. I put my arm around his shoulders and gave him a hug. "Yeah, give them their proper due," I grinned.

"Yeah," he said and rolled his eyes upward. Then after a pause, he added, "It was just my way of tryin' to get back at 'em. I used to spend hours trying to figure some way to get these posted on the school website...or projecting them on the football scoreboard or something."

"Something subtle," I said. He laughed, and I added, "Probably a good thing you never figured it out."

"Yeah, probably," he said somberly.

"You know no one can ever see these. If somebody found out, you'd be in deep shit, man."

"Yeah. Actually, I was kind'a thinkin' I don't want 'em any more, anyway; I've got something better."

"So?"

"Um...well...I thought maybe...um...you want 'em."

"Um...I'm afraid I'd have some real explaining to do if somehow someone got a glimpse of them...and so could you for that matter!"

"Yeah, I figured. Really, I was thinking maybe I should just rip 'em up," he said calmly.

We gazed at the drawings a moment longer. Then suddenly a piece of wood in the fire exploded, sending out a shower of sparks, and together we said, "Or burn them!"

And that's exactly what we did. "We're burning them in effigy," I suggested.

"Effigy?" he asked.

"If people are unhappy with someone, they make a crude model of them and then burn the model - to register their disapproval."

"Yeah," he muttered, "works for me."

We sat there, tossing the pages into the fire one at a time. In one way, I hated doing it; they were so extraordinary, but if somehow someone else found out about them, they'd only lead to trouble for Eric. Still, I confess thinking at one point, Hell, he could make a killing on eBay. But the more we placed in the fire, the more the mood changed. It was cathartic for Eric. Placing them in the fire had become a sort of ritual, symbolizing Eric's liberation from the past. We watched the flames flare up then quickly die down as each image was consumed. When they were all burned, we lay there quietly watching the fire, each of us lost in his own thoughts. He snuggled up against me. Somehow, with those images from his past now just smoke and ash, he had turned to a new chapter in his life.

"You want to see why I lost interest in these?" Eric asked after a while.

"Sure," I said. He handed me another book, and I opened it up. The first page was of me, and took my breath away. I was climbing out of the water onto my dock. It was identical to the picture he had shown me the other day...except now I appeared as I really was on that day: I was completely naked. I was back to. My butt, two muscular hillocks, and hanging down between my legs were my balls and cock. I reddened and swallowed.

"You don't like it?"

"Eric. It's awesome. A little embarrassing maybe, but awesome." I looked over at him, and he grinned. "Do I really look like that?" I asked.

He nodded and a flush of color filled his cheeks. "You do to me," he said, but he was anxious to move on. "Turn the page."

I did. This time I was lying on my back on the dock, propped up on one elbow. Again, Eric had tastefully exaggerated my muscles. But my genitals, laying over one leg, he'd gotten just about perfect.

"These are going to be my jacking off pictures."

"Your what!" I reached out, and pulled him tighter to me, poking him where I'd discovered he was most ticklish.

"My mastur..." Three times he tried to say 'masturbation', but kept bursting into laughter.

"So, my young gay friend, you've got that all worked out, hmm?" I grinned.

"Yep."

I eased my poking, and but continued to hold him. He made no move to pull away.

He looked up at me after a moment and said, "I want to try."

"Try?"

"Doing it." He gazed into my eyes and what was unspoken was so clear.

I knew of course what he was asking, and I knew why he was asking it, and I knew he probably was going to be confused by my answer. I hoped maybe he'd be able to read between the lines. "Well..." I joked. "You're only 13! You've got all kinds of time. Maybe by the time you're 18, you'll find an opportunity." I chuckled. He snickered, too, then grew more uncertain. A long silence followed, and I knew he was chewing something over in his mind. Finally, in a soft, hesitant voice, he spoke, still keeping his eyes on the picture.

"It'd be...um...cool...if someone could...you know...like show me how." I suspected that was as close as he could come to asking me to have sex with him, and truthfully, I was grateful for that.

I had a snappy comeback all ready, but he deserved more than something that amounted to thoughtless dismissal; I also knew he still hadn't quite said what he was really thinking. "Someone?" I repeated tenderly. "Yeah, I hope someone does come along for you, Eric."

There was a momentary look of disappointment in his face. I understood, of course, his intent: his "someone" was me, and when I failed to take him up on his offer, I could see a hint of frustration growing inside him. I smiled gently, more at my memories of adolescent volatility than his desire. I knew that wasn't the answer he was looking for.

"Jason...um...I was thinking maybe um...you could...you know...be the one."

Even in the glow of the fire, I could see him blush.

"Oh...Eric...I...I'm...God, Eric...that's so special to want to share with me like that..." I stroked the side of his arm.

"But, I hear a 'but'." he replied glumly.

"Yeah, Eric...I just don't know." On one hand, it would have been so easy to grant his request, yet something continued to gnaw at me, something that kept me from feeling I could - or should, and yet I knew he was vulnerable; he'd risked a lot just asking me. I did not want him to hear rejection in my response. "I'm not sure I'm the right person to do that."

"I think you are."

"Oh, Eric," I breathed. "It's not that easy for me."

"Who else, Jas? I mean, for so long, I've had feelings, and didn't dare to do anything. It was like building up inside me. And last night, you helped me admit it - like you said - to myself. Now I want to know what it's like." He got a coy look on his face, and added with a blush, "I figure you owe it to me." His sweet lips stretched into an embarrassed smile.

"Eric, it's not that easy."

"Why?" The boy lowered himself down next to me and snuggled in under my arm.

"You're making it pretty hard, you know."

He flashed a glance downward and offered a shy, "I certainly hope so." It was dripping with innuendo. He blushed a deep red, seeming almost mortified that those words had come out of his mouth; then he flashed that big toothy smile that made deep dimples on either side of his mouth.

"Poor choice of words on my part," I said with a gentle smile. I moved my hand slowly up and down his arm, and he responded, tentatively, lightly touching my chest. Finally, after nervously stroking me a few times, his hand came to rest on my stomach.

Now he shifted his position and rested his head on my chest. He didn't move. I thought about the past days with this boy; I thought about how he'd changed; I thought about his mother, and her plea for me to show him about being gay. I knew what she meant. It felt like three to one: Eric, and his mom, and a great big part of me, versus the smaller, "by-the-book" part of me. And yet, something had changed from the moment I'd first met him.

When I thought about it, I realized in that time, I had come to love him. It was that simple. I did. And I think he loved me. The only problem was, for me it wasn't a sexual love; I almost felt as if I were his parent, or maybe mentor was more what I felt, and I knew I could not have sex with this boy. In that moment of realization, all kinds of emotions were rattling around inside my head. I was learning something about myself - not just Eric. I was surprised by that. On one level, I wouldn't have believed such a thing were possible - for me to be around such male beauty and not think about him sexually - or, more correctly, not want him sexually. It wasn't that I didn't find him wonderfully sensuous; I did. But I knew to go further - to move from what I was feeling to something physical - somehow seemed a violation to the bond I felt growing between us. It was an odd paradox, and even now, I'm not sure I understand how I was feeling completely, and I suspect for Eric it was even more confounding.

I lay there, with this man-child resting on my chest. My hand stroked his shoulder and back. I sighed. We stayed that way a while longer, and then he spoke: "Jas, I can hear your heart beating. It's beating pretty fast."

I lifted my hand to his head, and ran my fingers through his wondrous mop of hair. "Yeah," I said simply.

He giggled, then, lifted up and twisted his head and looked up at me. His eyes sparkled and widened, and his tongue ran over his lips. His open mouth revealed his white, perfect teeth. His giggles settled into a smile, and then his smile faded into a look of vulnerability, of desperation, of sensuality, of anticipation. He wanted something, something borne of the intense feelings he was experiencing. And he was convinced I was the one to give it to him. But I think as he studied me, he realized something was wrong. He shifted his position, more sitting up and facing me. "You're not going to..." he said simply.

"Eric..." I stopped. The words in my head weren't going to explain what I was feeling. I sighed. "This isn't easy." I saw a whole range of emotions flood across the boy's face. He couldn't understand what I was feeling; hell, I didn't completely understand it myself. He was so desperate to explore his sexuality; he'd risked so much, putting himself out there; and now he was seeing I was going to say, no. He started to get up, but I took him by the arm. "Eric, please. I... Please, wait." Slowly he settled back down. "I need to explain - if I can."

"What? You think I won't be able to understand what 'no' means?"

I sighed another long, painful sigh. "I mean, Eric, I'm not sure I know what I'm feeling myself...I'm not sure I know how to say it." I reached over and wiped a single tear from his cheek. I knew I needed to try to explain what I was feeling, but I wasn't sure how to begin. I

A rustling sound in the darkness refocused our attention, and delayed the need to say anything.

In the dim light of the fire, a shadowy figure emerged from the edge of the campsite.

"Is this a bad time?" a voice asked in a tone that said the asker really didn't care whether it was or wasn't.

I heard a small sigh of frustration come from Eric.

"No," I said quickly. "It's okay."

Eric shot me a glance; clearly things had taken a turn he hadn't anticipated, and I knew he probably wouldn't agree.

Running Bear, more or less naked like us, came and sat next to Eric. His gaze swept across the white boy, and his eyes sparkled.

Eric, brimming with raw emotions, straightened up some, and I was suddenly aware of the cool air that his warmth had shielded. His hips rested against mine and against Running Bear's as well. I glanced at Running Bear and his eyes were consumed by a desperate hunger. Eric caught it, too, and then looked to me, trying to read my expression. I hoped he couldn't, for I was trying to make Running Bear recognize an invitation. The Indian boy reached down between Eric's legs and lightly brushed his fingertips across his boyhood. The younger boy gasped at that touch. "Don't," Eric said.

"Looks like maybe I did interrupt something," Running Bear answered softly. Eric shifted, showing his uncertainty, but his penis rolled slightly to the side, hinting at arousal.

"The truth is, Running Bear, I guess you probably did. Maybe you heard: Eric was asking...well...he had made a very special invitation." I smiled gently, and looked into Eric's eyes. "And I was trying to figure out how I could decline his offer without having him think I was rejecting him." I suspect Eric felt trapped - literally in one sense sitting there between Running Bear and me.

I watched as Eric worked to keep from frowning; I could see the hurt building in him. Running Bear reached out, and with the gentlest of touches turned Eric's chin and locked onto his eyes. "Just tell him," the Indian said, "Just tell him why."

I took a deep breath and let it out, and Eric turned back to me. His eyes said, "Yeah, tell me why."

"Eric...okay, I'll try, but I'm not sure it's going to make a lot of sense." I offered a bit of a smile, and began, hoping the words which would come out of my mouth would be words that Eric could hear. "We've been on quite a journey these past few days, haven't we?"

Eric nodded uncertainly, but his gaze never left mine.

"When I first saw you, I thought cool kid...nice boy, but a boy who didn't seem all that happy. Am I right?"

He nodded, and offered a swallowed, "yeah".

"I thought not just nice. Cute...no...more than cute. He is beautiful." I watched him color under my gaze. "And although I'd never really entertained the idea of sex with - sex with a minor - I felt my body responding." Eric's reaction told me he'd been aware of my response to him. "And unbelievably - to me, anyway - I began to think, 'maybe I could have sex with this boy.'" I glanced down at the fire for a moment, but just for a moment, and then looked back. "But then an even more curious thought began to fill my mind about this incredible boy. It was weird, I guess, going from never a thought about sex with a boy, to maybe...to...to..." I swallowed hard. This was going to be more difficult than I thought. I looked away again, studying the flickering flames and deeper in the fire, tiny fireworks of popping embers.

"To..." Eric repeated, "...he's just this troubled kid who needs help."

I snapped my head in his direction. "Noo, Eric. No." I drew in air. "No," I said more softly, and I put my hand on his shoulder. "I came to understand that I..." My hand gently stroked his soft skin. "...that I loved you, Eric." I felt him stiffen at that - not stiffen exactly, just grow more calm or more still. "I did, Eric...I do..."

"Then, how come..." I put my finger on his lips, stopping the question we both knew he was going to ask.

"This is the part that I'm not sure I can make sense of for you...because I'm not sure I understand myself." I paused, waiting, I guess - hoping - that he would say, oh that's okay; I understand, but he didn't. I saw him waiting for the explanation that hardly seemed like an explanation at all. "I don't know how...I'm not sure, Eric." I stopped and sighed again. "All I know is I have this overwhelming feeling for you, and it's telling me I love you with all my being...but somehow it's more - so much more...no, I don't mean that. I mean it's different, so different from the drive to have sex. Don't get me wrong: sex is awesome, but what I'm feeling is...is...an overwhelming sense of wanting to keep you safe...of needing to be with you, Eric - to watch you as you grow - to share with you your great moments of happiness...your triumphs...and your defeats when they come along - your pain." I looked into his eyes, searching for some sense that he understood. Oh God, how I hoped this was making sense to him. Now that I'd begun, I needed him to understand. "You are...ohhh, Eric...you are awesome...and I want to share so much with you, but..." I shook my head at the paradox. "...the physical act of sex...I don't know...seems to undo that somehow...seems to make it all about that - sex - and only that...and for me, it's so much more." I felt him trembling under my touch, and I realized he was a blur. I wiped my arm across my eyes, and snuffed. With clearer vision, I could see tears rolling down his face. "I hope you understand."

As I watched, I saw him slowly begin to shake his head. He looked back into my eyes. "No, Jas, I mean I know what the words mean...but there's a lot - like you said that doesn't make sense, at least not yet..." I felt a terrible ache begin to grow in my body - in my soul. "...but," he continued, "there is one part of it that I do understand...because I feel it, too...different, I guess...but I feel it." He reached out and took me in his embrace. "You love me, Jas...I do know that." He nestled his head between my neck and shoulder, and I felt hot tears spill on my skin, then quickly cool. "I do know that," he breathed so softly I doubt even Running Bear heard it.

We stayed like that until his twisted body demanded a change; he released me, and I him, and he shifted his position, more or less crawling into my lap, and continuing to hold each other. At one point, he lifted his head and I felt his lips drift across my neck, offering the gentlest of kisses, which I answered by a light kiss on the top of his sweet head. Around us, crickets chirped, the fire flickered, and we held each other.