Wanting Perfection

By Mark The Good Pen

The following story is a work of fiction.  It includes descriptions of sex between a fictional man and consenting teenage boy.  If you find material like this offensive, you are under the legal age in your area to read this, or this type of material is illegal in your area please leave now.

This is my story and my own words.  Nobody has permission to post it anywhere on the internet except for me.

Any comments/suggestions are welcome simply e-mail me at thegoodpen@inbox.com.  Please put Wanting Perfection in the subject of your e-mail.  I will try my best to respond to all e-mails.

My other story on Nifty:
Sierra Inn (Gay Male Adult/Youth)


Wanting Perfection
Chapter 2

Shawn's question echoed in my mind for awhile.  Rick did not seem like a pervert to me, a hippie maybe, but definitely not a pervert.  At first I didn't really answer Shawn I just kind of shrugged at him not knowing what to say in response.  For some reason, I don't know why, I felt the need to defend Rick, even though I didn't really know him.

"He's not a perv," I said, some what hesitantly after a minute or two of awkward silence.  "Why would you say that?"
"Because it's true," Shawn said.  "Casey Smith, from school took drum lessons from him last year.  He said the guy was staring at his crotch the whole time."
"You know Casey makes stuff up," I said.  Casey Smith was the biggest story teller in school, apparently everyone but Shawn knew that.
"Yeah, but he's too dumb to make something like that up," Shawn responded quickly.  "He hasn't done that to you?"
"I don't think so," I said.  "I mean I'm not looking at him the entire time so I guess I wouldn't really know if he was."
"When do you go back?" Shawn asked.
"Tomorrow," I said.
"Well, just see if you can tell where he's looking when he doesn't think you will notice," Shawn said.

I shook my head, not really thinking much of what Shawn had told me.  I figured Casey was making up stories again and Shawn fell for it, hook line and sinker.  Then my parent's argument at the dinner table last night started replaying in my head.  I finally realized what my Dad had been suspicious of, it was the same thing Shawn had been talking about.  But Dad was suspicious of everyone even Mother Teresa had ulterior motives according to him.  And Shawn's only source was a kid that had once said he had fought off an alligator with one arm.  So at that moment, sitting on the couch it did not seem like I had too much to worry about.

That evening after dinner I sat on the end of my bed, actually practicing the trumpet.  Something made me want to impress Rick, because I certainly had not done that yet.  He had assigned me to learn one song in the book he had given me but instead I taught myself how to play three.  I had pushed my worries from earlier in the week to the back of my mind.  Rick was just a nice guy, and I wanted him to like me and that explained the feeling in my stomach I had been getting when I would see him.  I had chosen to ignore Shawn's warning, and my Dad's cynicism.  Rick was a music teacher, and I royally sucked at playing music of course he was going to want me to take extra lessons.  I couldn't really explain why he had chosen to give the extra lessons for free, maybe he felt sorry for me.  Either way I was sure as I could be he had no hidden agenda.

So the next afternoon when I started walking to Rick's house for my last lesson of the week I was actually feeling pretty good about things.  I had even practiced that morning and taught myself two additional songs from the book, so now I could play the one he had assigned and four more.  When I got Rick's house he was sitting on his front step smoking a cigarette.

"Hey Justin," he said, as I walked up the concrete path from the side walk to his front step.
"Hi," I said, shyly.
"How are you today?" he asked as he dropped the cigarette by his right foot and stepped on it to put it out.
"Good," I answered, still standing a few feet from him.
"Are you feeling better than you were the other day?" he asked, now looking at me in the eyes.
"Yeah," I said, breaking his eye contact and looking down at my feet.  "I just get down sometimes.  Sorry."
"Don't be sorry," Rick said, shaking his head.  "It happens to all of us, even me," he says with a smile.  "So you ready for your lesson?"
"Yeah," I nodded, still looking at my feet.

I followed Rick into his house and took my usual seat on the chair against the wall in his living room.  He took a seat on the chair next to me and set up the music stand while I got my trumpet out of its case.  Even though I was sure Shawn had misinformation I kept looking out the corner of my eye, trying to see where Rick's eyes were pointed.  All I really wanted to do was prove that Shawn was wrong, and as far as I was able to tell Rick was only looking straight ahead.

"So, did you learn that song?" Rick asked as I placed my music book on the stand.
"Yeah," I said, nodding my head.  "And a couple of others too."
"Really?" Rick asked, surprise clear in his voice.
"Yeah," I said.  "I had some extra time, and that one song was kind of easy."
"See," Rick said, as a wide grin spread across his face.  "Once you practice some, it isn't so hard.  Is it?"
"I guess not," I said with a little shrug.
"Okay, so let's see what you can do," Rick said.

I played the songs I had taught myself, all the while trying to look out of the corner of my eye to see where Rick was looking.  I didn't notice anything while I was playing and I quickly decided that I had been right all along.  I was convinced Rick was no pervert.

"Very good, Justin," Rick said when I finished playing, a proud smile coming to his face.  "And how long did it take you to learn those?"
"A couple of hours," I said, as I rested my trumpet on my knee.
"Imagine what you will be able to do by the end of the summer," Rick said.

For the first time since I had started playing the trumpet I actually felt proud of myself for the way I had played.  The lesson continued normally, with me almost forgetting about what Shawn had said.  Then it was time to pack up my stuff.  I leaned over to the side of my chair opposite Rick to get my trumpet case.  On my way back up I noticed Rick's eyes pointed in the direction of my crotch, his tongue swiping across his lips.  I looked at him, and he quickly looked away.  Suddenly that feeling in my stomach came back, stronger than it had ever been before.

"So, Justin," Rick said, quickly his voice cracking slightly.  "Remember to practice this weekend, you don't want to lose all the progress you've made this week."

It was obvious he knew I had caught him looking.  The way his voice cracked, and suddenly he didn't seem to know what to do with his hands.  Unsure of what to do or say, myself, I just nodded at what he said and finished putting my trumpet away.

"I'll see you Monday," Rick said as I stood up.
"Yeah, see you," I squeaked before bolting for the door.

That feeling in my stomach stayed with me my entire walk home.  I still didn't understand everything that was going on.  Even if Rick was a pervert, like Shawn said why would he have been interested in me?  I was nothing special, no future model.  Yet he had clearly been looking at me between my legs, and licking his lips while doing so.  What I understood even less was why that feeling in my stomach had gotten even stronger when I caught him looking at me.  I had convinced myself that the feeling was from wanting Rick as a friend, that there was nothing more to it.  But the fact that it had gotten stronger when I had caught Rick looking at me in the way he had, meant there was more to that feeling than I wanted to admit.  I spent the rest of my walk home telling myself that I wasn't gay.

"Justin are you okay?" Mom asked me later at dinner.  "You seem distracted."
"I'm fine," I said as I sawed at the same piece of chicken of the one hundredth time with my knife.
"How was your trumpet lesson?" Dad asked.
"It was okay, I guess," I answered, looking down at my plate and the butchered piece of chicken.
"I heard you practicing last night," Mom said.  "You're getting pretty good."
"Thanks," I said.  "May I be excused?"  I asked, as I really did not want to talk about the trumpet.
"You hardly ate," Mom said.
"I'm not hungry," I said.  "May I be excused?" I asked again.
"Yeah," Dad said.  "Go ahead."

I got up from the table, threw my uneaten food in the trash and quickly went to grab my basketball out of my room.  I liked to shoot hoops in the evening, just after the sun went down.  I would turn on our big light that hung over the garage door just to the left of my basketball hoop and pretend like it was arena lighting.  I was only outside for fifteen minutes when I was suddenly interrupted.

"Hey Justin," I heard Rick's voice from behind me as I started to put up a shot.  I was so startled I let go of the ball too soon and it went straight into the garage door making a crashing sound that was probably heard in New Mexico.  "Oops, sorry I didn't mean to scare you," Rick chuckled.
"That's okay," I said, shyly as I turned around.
Rick was standing at the end of the driveway, a cigarette between his fingers on his right hand.  His long black hair was pulled back into a pony tail making his face look longer than usual.
"How are you doing?" he asked.
"Okay," I said.
"You kind of rushed out after your lesson," Rick said.  "I wasn't sure if I had made you angry or something."
"You didn't," I said, hesitantly.
"Good," Rick said.  "I was just taking a walk.  You want to join me?"
"I'd have to ask," I said.  I didn't know why but for some reason I did want to go.
"I'll wait," Rick said, as a small smile came to his face.

I quickly grabbed my basketball and dashed for the door.  I put my basketball just inside the front door and yelled to my Mom, that I was going next door to see Shawn.  A minute had not passed before I was back outside and walking down to the end of the driveway.

"She said it's okay," I said to Rick, as I stopped a couple feet away from him.
"Good," he said as he flicked his cigarette into the gutter.

We started walking up the block away from his house, silently at first.  The feeling in my stomach had come back the second I realized that Rick was the one that had scared the shit out of me when I was trying to shoot.  The feeling was getting harder and harder to ignore as every time I saw Rick it seemingly grew stronger and stronger.

"I love nights like this," Rick finally said after a couple of minutes of walking in silence.  "The sky is so clear it's just like a blanket of stars."

I had not noticed it before but after Rick mentioned it I looked up at the sky and saw that there weren't any clouds, and even with the lights from the city I was still able to plainly see a blanket of stars just like Rick said.

"Reminds me of home," he said, with a sigh.  "Ever been to Iowa?"
"No," I said, shaking my head.
"Yeah not exactly a tourist destination," Rick chuckled.  "But it's home for me."

We fell silent again, as Rick ran out of things to say and I never had anything to begin with.  As we walked I was trying desperately to ignore that feeling in my stomach, that seemed to be on over drive now.  A part of me wanted to ask Rick about that afternoon, where he was looking.  But I was way too shy to do something like that, so instead I kept my mouth shut.

"Justin, you should be very proud of yourself for what you did this week," Rick said.  "You've come along way already.  I think you're going to shock your band director when you go back to school."
"Thanks," I said shyly.
"Is there something bothering you?" Rick asked, suddenly.

I shook my head silently, not wanting to let Rick know anything.  I figured there was a chance I was wrong about this afternoon, and if I was I didn't want to make a fool out of myself by accusing him of something he didn't do.

"Justin do you have someone you can talk to about stuff?" Rick asked.
"You mean like friends?" I asked.  "I have friends."
"Do you talk to them about what's going on with you?" Rick asked.  "Like when you have a problem do you talk to them about it?"
"Not really," I said, shaking my head.
"Well then who do you talk to when you have a problem?" Rick asked.
"I don't know," I said with a shrug.  "I don't usually have that many problems."
"I only ask because you seem kind of shy," Rick said.  "I'm guessing you don't talk too much to anyone."
"I don't know," I said.  "I talk when I have something to say."
"Good," Rick said, with a small smile.  "I know when I was your age everything seemed like a huge problem, even if it wasn't.  But I had a teacher at school that I was able to talk to about everything, he really helped me a lot.  You don't have anyone like that?"
"No," I said shaking my head.
"Do you want to?" Rick asked.

I had never really thought about what Rick was asking me.  If I had a problem, I would usually try to solve it myself.  Shawn and I were best friends but I always felt like there were certain things I just couldn't talk to him about.  None of my teachers had ever taken that much of an interest in me.  I was usually the last name they would remember.  My parents weren't exactly the most supportive people in the world.  They tried to be, but often failed miserably.  I knew they cared about me but often times they just would come across as being too judgmental for me to feel like they were supportive.  So I had always been left to deal with things that were bothering me on my own.  I never really had an issue with that either.  It had been that way for as long as I could remember.  Even though I had just met Rick, in a week he had shown more interest in me than any adult before him had.

"I don't know," I said in response to Rick's question.
"You know it's not a bad thing to have someone like that," Rick said.  "Somebody you can tell anything to, and they won't get mad or hurt.  It's like having a shrink free of charge," he added with a little chuckle.
"I guess," I said, staring down at my feet while we continued to walk.  
"Well think about it," Rick said.  "Because, Justin you're at the start of some very complicated years.  You're going to need someone to talk to, trust me it'll make things a lot easier."

I didn't really understand what Rick was telling me.  It made sense to me in theory, having somebody to help me with my problems would make things easier.  But the one problem that had started bothering me that week was one I did not think I could share with anyone.  We continued to walk in silence until we reached where the street turned into a cul-de-sac.  When we reached the cul-de-sac, Rick took a seat on the curb by in front of the house on the end.  Hesitantly I sat down next to him.

"I hate being inside on nights like this," he said, as he stared up at the sky.  "We don't have weather like this too long we have to make the most of it while it lasts.  So you've lived here all your life?" Rick asked a question he had already asked me during my first lesson.
"Yeah," I said.
"You like it here?" he asked.
"I guess," I said, with a shrug.  "It's okay."
"You know this is the fifth state I've lived in," Rick said.
"It is?" I asked, surprised.
"Yep," Rick said.  "I was born in Iowa, lived there until I was sixteen.  Then I moved to California, was there for five years before I moved to Texas.  I lived in San Antonio for two years then I lived in Florida until I moved here last year."
"Why do you keep moving?" I asked, curiously.
"I get bored," Rick said.  "I love experiencing new things, and when I run out of new things to experience in a place I look for a new place.  I've never had anything tying me down, so I've always been able to just pick up and move whenever I wanted to.  But things are different now."
"They are?" I asked.
"Yeah, I came here because my sister needs me," he said as some sadness came into his voice.  "So now I can't leave her."
"Is she sick?" I asked, probably digging deeper than I should have.
"Kind of," Rick said, looking at me for the first time since we sat down.  "There's something wrong with her brain, makes her hear voices that aren't really there.  She's in a place that is supposed to help her, but it hasn't really been doing much for her.  I feel like I need to be here for her, just in case."
"Oh," I said, not knowing what else to say.
"See what I did just now?" Rick asked.
"No," I said as I shook my head.
"I just shared a problem with you," Rick said.  "That's something that has been bothering me for over a year now."
"It was?" I asked.
"It sure was," Rick said.  "And do you think any less of me now?"
"No," I said, quickly.
"Good," Rick said.  "I felt like I owed you something.  You do realize you shared one of your problems with me the other day?"
"I did?" I asked, not aware of what I had apparently done.
"You sure did," Rick said, as he nodded his head.  "When you said that you think you suck at everything.  I would say that's a problem.  Wouldn't you?"
"I guess," I said, as I looked down at my feet in between my knees.  I hadn't really thought of that as sharing a problem, it was more just me stating my opinion of myself.
"And you know what?" Rick asked.  "I didn't think any different of you after you told me that."
"You didn't?" I asked, not totally believing him.
"Not at all," Rick said.  "And by the way, did you prove something to yourself today?"
"I don't suck at everything," I said, as I understood exactly what Rick was implying.
"Absolutely," Rick said, as a smile spread across his face.  "Sometimes you just have to practice."
"Yeah I guess," I said with a little chuckle.
"So now, what's bothering you tonight?" Rick asked.
"I don't know," I said, once again looking down at my feet.  I did not feel like I could talk to Rick about what was bothering me, since he had a lot to do with it.
"Would it have anything to do with why you bolted out the door this afternoon?" Rick asked, taking me by surprise.

I didn't say anything, I just sat staring at my feet.  I wasn't totally convinced that I hadn't seen something that wasn't there that afternoon.  Shawn had put an idea in my head and I had gone running with it, Rick hadn't done anything.  But then again, why had his tongue been out like it was?

"If you don't want to talk about it right now, that's okay," Rick said after he realized I wasn't going to answer his question with anything more than a shrug.  "But I want you to know you can talk to me about anything.  I'll always listen."
"Thanks," I said, shyly.

A few more minutes passed in silence before we started heading back towards my house.  Neither of us said another word until we got to my driveway, where we told each other goodnight.  I went into my house and right to my bedroom.  I flopped down on my back on the bed and just stared at the ceiling.  I didn't know what to make of everything that was going on.  Up until that Monday I had never really questioned myself.  I never had thought of the possibility that I might have been gay.  But after everything that had happened in the previous week I was having a hard time denying it to myself.  I had to deal with the fact that I wanted to be more than just friends with Rick.  If that afternoon and evening had done anything it had proven that the feeling I got in my stomach was more than just wanting Rick to be my friend.  That feeling had gotten so much stronger when I thought I had caught Rick staring at me in between my legs.  It was as though it had spread through out my body.  It was a feeling I had never experienced before in my life.  I couldn't really get my mind around everything that was happening, questions just kept whirling around in my head as I stared up at the ceiling over my bed.  Could I have a crush on Rick?  Did Rick feel the same way about me that I did about him?  Could I be feeling this way about Rick and still not be gay?  I couldn't really answer any of those questions at the time.  All I knew was up until that point in my life I had never felt about anybody else the way I did for Rick.

What I understood even less was what Rick saw in me.  Nobody had ever paid that much attention to me, and I never thought anybody would have that much reason to.  I was ordinary at best, and definitely not that interesting to be around.  Yet Rick seemed to want to be around me as much as I wanted to be around him.  He increased my lessons from one to three times a week, he had played basketball with me that past Tuesday, gone on a walk with me that evening.  And he had been the one to suggest all of it, not me.  Shawn was the only person that had seemed to want to be around me that much before, but he was my best friend so he didn't even count.  He had to want to be around me.  But Rick only had to see me for one hour a week if he wanted to, but he chose more.  Rick seemed, in a way, to get me in a way nobody had gotten me before, which only added to that feeling in my stomach.

I fell asleep that night, without an answer to any of the questions that had been floating around in my mind.  The next day when I actually did go over to Shawn's house I was just as confused as I had been the night before.

"So did he?" Shawn asked, after we had spent an hour in his room listening to music, not saying much to each other.
"Did who what?" I asked.
"Did your music teacher look at you?" Shawn asked.
"I'm not sure," I answered, semi honestly.
"He did didn't he?" Shawn asked as he was able to hear the hesitation in my answer.
"I think he did," I said.  "But I don't know for sure."
"I bet he did," Shawn said.
"Man, why do you care so much?" I asked.
"I don't know," Shawn said with a shrug.  "I have no life."
"Well stop trying to live threw me," I said.  "Besides nothing's gonna happen anyway."
"Well I knew that," Shawn said with a little laugh.  "Why do you want something to happen?"
"No, stupid," I said, maybe a little too defensively.  "That's why I said nothing's gonna happen."
"That's what I thought," Shawn said, giving me a questioning look while he made his statement.
"Shawn, you're not going to tell anybody, I mean if he does try something," I said, after a moment of awkward silence.  I knew that if something did happen Shawn would probably be the one to know.
"No," Shawn said, shaking his head.  "So you do think he's gonna try something."
"I don't know," I said with a shrug.  "But if he does, I think I'd want to tell you.  But only if you promise not to tell anybody else."
"I promise," Shawn said.  "It would stop here."
"Thanks," I said.

I spent the rest of the weekend trying unsuccessfully to forget about my new problems.  I was not depressed or upset about what was going on, I was simply confused.  It was just a lot to mentally digest all at once, and I had been no where close to prepared to handle any of it.  I did practice the trumpet more than the one required hour a day.  Even though I still either could not understand why or was not willing to admit to myself the reason, I really did want to impress Rick.  The best way I could figure to do that was to start playing the trumpet really well.  The two songs he had assigned me to learn were harder than the one for the previous lesson.  That one had been just about four lines, and was pretty simple all the way through.  But the two songs he assigned me for the weekend were a full page each and much more complicated.  Still by that Monday morning I felt like I had gotten a pretty good grasp on both songs.

My confusion concerning everything else that had been going on had not cleared any when the time for my lesson came that afternoon.  I walked to Rick's house slowly kind of just taking in the scenery as I went, even though I knew the neighborhood like the back of my hand.  When Rick opened the door, a smile spread across his face a kind of glint appearing in his eyes.  His hair was again tied back into a pony tail, he had apparently not shaven over the weekend and his chin and cheeks were full of dark brown stubble.

"Hi Justin," he said with the smile still on his face.  "Come on in," he added as he opened the door wider to allow me through.
"Thanks," I said shyly.

Rick went into another room while I sat on my folding chair in the living room, getting my trumpet out of its case.  When I got my trumpet set up, and my music on the stand Rick still had not come back in so I took the opportunity to look around the room.  Rick had hung a lot of photographs around the room but the week before I had not gotten the opportunity to look at them.  Almost all of the photographs were black and white and were of people I guessed were musicians but I did not recognize any of them.  When Rick finally did come back into the room he noticed me looking around at the photographs, from my chair.

"I'm a bit of a collector," Rick said, as he picked up a bottle of water from underneath his chair.  "The one behind you ," he said nodding his head to the wall directly behind me.  I turned in my chair and craned my neck to see the photograph he was talking about.  "That was Miles Davis.  He was a jazz musician, played the trumpet.  He was one of the best of all time, in my opinion anyway.  And the one next to that, is Louis Armstrong, he played the trumpet also."
"Was he good?" I asked.
"Was he good?" Rick asked with a chuckle.  "Can birds fly?"
"Oh," I said, feeling like I had asked a stupid question.
"Maybe one day, I'll have a picture of you up on my wall," Rick said.  "And I'll be telling some kid that I knew you back when."
"Yeah right," I said with a little laugh.
"Hey you never know," Rick said.  "So let's see what you did this weekend," he said, as he turned his attention to the music on the stand.

The lesson progressed normally, and I was able to play the songs that I had been assigned.  Rick was even impressed by how well I was able to play them.  During the lesson I would try to see where Rick was looking while I was playing.  But as far as I was able to tell he was following along with where I was in the music.  Then at the end of the lesson I started to lean over to pick up my case, it was the exact point where I had thought Rick was looking at me during the last lesson.  So as I went to pick up my case I made an even harder effort to look at Rick out of the corner of my eye.

I wasn't really expecting Rick to do it again, he had obviously had known that I had caught him the last time by how nervous he had gotten right before I had bolted for the door.  I kept looking out the corner of my eye the entire time I reached for my trumpet case.  This time though, Rick got out of his chair and stretched, not even looking in my direction.  I put my trumpet back in its case and grabbed my music book off the stand.

"So I'll see you Wednesday," I said as I got up off my chair.
"Wait, a second," Rick said.  "There's something I want to show you, in the other room."

To Be Continued...

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Chapter 3 Coming Soon!!