Young Love

By Petros

Chapter 15

He kissed me again, with a mixture of delight, euphoria and passion, and I guess to say that the first one wasn't just for show. One kiss could have been a bet, or a dare, but two kisses showed that he meant it; everyone would know for sure. He must have thought that it would reassure me - let me know that his commitment was serious.

He meant what he said. He wanted me back - that was for sure. I didn't know exactly why, or what happened in Germany to change his mind, but I knew. What I wasn't quite so sure of was whether I wanted him back or not. At first I was ecstatic, but as the morning wore on I became less and less sure. For the last week it had been all that I wanted but now that I had it some doubts were forming. The pain that I'd suffered and the anguish of loosing him were unbearable, I'd never felt such hurt or loss before - even when my grand parents had died years before. We'd broken up twice already - both times because of his insecurities - why shouldn't it happen again? And if it did, would I be able to deal with it? It could be months or years down the line when my feelings would be stronger and my dependencies could be much greater. I wanted him back because I still loved him, but I didn't want to ever have to feel the way that I had again. There was a lot we needed to talk about - and having just been reunited being kept apart for four hours was driving me crazy!

I hadn't been concentrating in class so I was kept in over the first interval. That meant that it was lunchtime before I got to see Derek again. When the bell finally rang I was out of the classroom and down stairs like a shot. Derek arrived at the gate a few moments after me, grinning like an idiot. And he arrived he gave me a quick kiss on the lips then took my hand and started to lead me away.

"Stop that!" I laughed, "What'll everyone think?"

"Who cares?" he said, leaning over to kiss me again, "I've got you back babe, and that's all that matters." But was it? We got to the hill, you know the one - beside the hockey pitch, and sat down.

"So. what happened, in Germany?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing much, we won most of our games, made it through to the semi-finals but lost to a school from Dortmund. It was a good laugh though."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Ah. Well, you mean what changed my mind? What makes you think something had to happen? Couldn't I just have realised what a mistake I'd made once I'd had time to think about it?"

"Did you?" I asked. He shook his head.

"Not quite," he said apologetically. When we got there, and on the way over, everyone was talking about it, but not as much as I though. A few of them were weird about it, you know - saying how it's sick and how they couldn't believe it and shit - but it wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be, no-one really seemed to care that much. I still didn't say anything... it's different... you're their friend but I'm part of their team - I thought if they knew it'd fuck everything up and... and I... I'd dumped you. I didn't know if you'd ever forgive me... I thought you'd never want to see me again, so I couldn't see much point. If I wasn't with you, then no-one would need to know.

"Then at one of our games, we had to share changing rooms with the other team - it was a school's ground and they weren't on holiday so there weren't any spare rooms or something - anyway, after the game we were changing and I thought one of the guys on the other team was checking me out as I was changing. He was kinda cute, but still I wasn't interested so I didn't pay any attention... I wasn't sure anyway, I could have been imagining it or just reading too much into things or anything. I turned away and when I did I saw that Richard seemed to be watching the guy who was watching me, I didn't know what to think. Richard might have seen him watching me and be wondering what was going on, or maybe Richard was checking him out, I didn't know - Richard never seemed gay but then, neither did you - I figured I was just jumping to conclusions. He was dressing really slowly though, like he was deliberately taking his time. The other guy, when I looked back at him, seemed to have turned his attention to Richard, and he looked like he was taking his time too. I was ready, and left before them, and I wasn't sure, but it looked like they were waiting so they could be alone together.

"Later on, that night back at the hotel, I got Richard alone, away from the others. I asked him if he was gay. He was really scared when I asked him, he asked why I was asking, what made me think that he was, you know, all the usual shit. I guessed he was because of how he reacted, but I told him about what I thought I'd seen.

"He is gay, he told me. I was right about what I'd seen. Most of the guys know about him, they had for a while. They didn't tell me, or a couple of the others, when they found out 'cause they thought we'd react badly and freak out at him", he stopped to laugh at the irony of it for a moment.

"We talked for a while, then we rejoined the rest of the guys and I told them - about me. If they were cool with Richard then they'd be ok about me too I figured, especially seeing that they like me better. And you know how it is, everyone seems to respect us, so if we're not bothered about people being gay then maybe other people wouldn't be either. Once I was open about it, and I hoped Richard would join me, then it'd be more accepted by people - everyone wouldn't suddenly turn on people from the most popular crowd in school. I hoped I'd be able to try and sort things out with you, but I knew that even if I couldn't then me being known about and accepted would make things much easier for you... I don't suppose you've been having much fun since everyone found out, have you?"

I was amazed. He'd actually thought the whole thing through - quite sensibly, and rationally - and made what must have been a really difficult decision based on what his actions would do for someone other than himself.

"Oh, Derek, that's so sweet. I can't believe you did that for me, just to help me out," I said as I hugged him, "you're the best!"

"After what I'd done to you, it was the least I could do. I totally over-reacted before, and I'm sorry. I had to do something to get you back, or at least to try and make things better for you."

He'd done well. He'd done the best he could be expected too - better perhaps. But, as I realised later when I thought about it, he still did the things he did before he went away and nothing was going to change that. Outing himself to more and more people every time he fucked up could only work for so long. Leaving him might have been sensible but he'd just potentially sacrificed so much for me that I couldn't do it. I'd only just got him back - I wanted to be happy again, the way I was before - so despite any problems I could foresee I stuck with him; 'gave him another chance' if that's what you'd call it. I was still in love with him, as he was with me; to throw that away would seem - to most people - rather stupid.

Things changed that day. It wasn't a radical change, nor did it occur at all rapidly. But gradually the looks I'd been getting changed from being hostile. They didn't become pleasant, and things were by no means normal. The girls seemed somehow envious of me; I had the guy they had all wanted since their first year there. The boys were still obviously wary of me, being gay had not suddenly become cool, but they seemed more curious, like this was something they didn't understand but if footy players could be gay too then perhaps they'd have to learn. I felt a certain sense of awe from some of them - from those who weren't in the popular crowd, those who were cool but wanted to hang around with the football team and their mates. I had just taken another step that put me inextricably in the centre of that group.

That wasn't the whole story, of course. The social hierarchy of my year group at school was itself part of a larger structure where we were placed underneath the pupils in fifth and sixth year. Our elders paid no attention to the respect shown to the footballers and popular kids in the years below them, and so Derek's decision to stand by me did nothing to stop them from abusing me. Verbal abuse that is, they really didn't seem to care enough to do anything else about it. Name-calling I could get used to; I had no intention of causing more trouble for myself by reporting it to the teachers.

Then there were those who lived in anarchy, outside of the whole social structure of the school: the rough kids. You remember the kind, don't you? The ones who smoked round the back of the school, who never wore the uniform, who came from run-down areas of town, who had no interest in learning anything and who were absent (without leave) as often as they were present. I'm thinking of one guy in particular here. Kevin Bryden. He was the one who'd caused the whole problem, and it seemed like he was going to be the one to keep it going. Neither Kevin, nor his cronies liked the football team, so one of them being gay wasn't going to make it Ok by them. I had guessed that would be the case, and I was proved right when they confronted me on the way back to classes after lunch. They didn't touch me - we were in school and they knew better than to try anything there - but their streams of insults and threats made their feelings and intentions quite clear. Things would be tough for a while, but at least I had a team of strong, fit footballers to back me up should a situation arise. I knew I'd have to be careful; Kevin & Co. were certainly not happy having a couple of gay's running around the school and I could only guess at what they were going to do about it.

I was walking home after school, by myself (having said goodbye appropriately to Derek), when Denise approached me. "Bastard!" she said as she joined me. "You knew I wanted him!" she said jokingly.

"Hey, I'm sorry! I never knew," I joked back.

"Well, it's for the best really... I suppose. I'm pretty relieved actually, now I know why he never wanted me, I don't feel so bad about myself any more. I was starting to think I must be really ugly or something with the luck I've been having, did you hear I got knocked back by Richard too?"

I couldn't help but laugh. She looked at me oddly, but I couldn't explain it; wasn't my place to do so. "Well, maybe you are ugly, I'm probably not the best judge of that kind of thing!" I replied instead.

"Thank you! Anyway, how long's this been going on?" she asked.

"Since his birthday, remember the night he didn't sleep with you?" She nodded. "We got together that night... I fancied him for ages before that too though."

"That makes two of us, and quite a few others too. I can see you being quite unpopular with the girls at school."

"Really?" I asked, suddenly worried.

"No! I'm winding you up. Sure, we all like him but you know what girls are like," I didn't, "we'd only get jealous if one of us got him. This way, we all lose so it's ok."

"Oh, ok," I replied, feeling a little bemused.

"I'd never have guessed you know," she said moving swiftly onwards, "you don't seem gay, not like that Julian Clarey guy. What does he look like, with all his make-up and the way he prances about? My mum likes him, she thinks he's great. I think its men like him that give you normal gay people such a bad image," she went on. 'Normal gay people', bit of a contradiction in terms I thought, but I didn't say anything.

"Well, I'll do my best to give us all a good image then."

"I know you will, and with a guy like Derek with you you'll not go far wrong!"

"I hope not," I said as we reached my house, "anyway, I'm home. See you tomorrow!"

"See ya Pet!" she called as I walked up my drive way and into the house.

The house was empty. There was a message, from my mum, on the answer phone. It said she was going to be late home. It was four o'clock. My dad wouldn't be back until at least half past five. I picked up the phone and called Derek, and invited him down.

He arrived a few minutes later. I was at the door waiting for him, I'd been watching out for him. I grabbed him, dragged him inside and slammed the door behind him. "Hey Sexy," I greeted him, and then I started kissing him fiercely as I pushed him back against the wall. I was gagging for it. It'd been a long time since I'd had sex... with him.

I started untying the draw-stings on his trackies as we continued to kiss passionately. "What about your brother?" he mumbled.

"Playing football," I replied as I broke the kiss. He gave me a longing look as if to say 'Why'd you stop?' I gave him a devilish look before sliding down onto my knees - so my face was directly opposite his bulging crotch. I pulled his trousers down, followed by his shorts. His long, thick cock sprang free. Pre-cum was already oozing out of the slit on his bulbous head. I eagerly wrapped my mouth round his huge dick and started licking it as I slid it deeper into my mouth, then throat.

I could hear him moaning with pleasure as I continued to work my magic, bobbing up and down with gradually increasing pace. "Oh, yeah," he groaned. He started thrusting his cock into my mouth; his giant cock-head was rubbing against the back of my throat. He was getting close; I could sense it. He'd started massaging my head earlier, but now he was holding onto it for dear life.

I positioned my tongue at the base of the under-side of his head, tightened my lips and sped up until I was sucking him of at an incredible pace. He started whimpering, and then screamed as his dick pulsed and started to shoot streams of hot, thick spunk into my mouth. I had to swallow as he continued to spray his delicious creamy spunk inside me.

After a few moments his orgasm began to subside. I let his softening schlong slip from my lips, gave it a gentle squeeze and licked the last few drops from his gargantuan pay-load of cum from him.

"Thank you," he whispered as he struggled to regain his breath. He half sat, half collapsed on the floor beside me and kissed me, sucking the last remnants of his wad from my mouth.

I was so hard that it hurt. My cock was straining at my jeans, begging for attention. Bringing Derek off turned me on more than anything in the world. He undid the buttons slowly and deliberately. His hands kept brushing against, and stroking my meat through the material as he did so. He finally finished unbuttoning and slid my jeans and my boxers down so they were around my ankles. Then, gently grasping my aching member he began to slowly and firmly wank me off.

He stopped, but didn't let go. Holding me by my cock he led me upstairs to my room where he pushed me back onto my bed. He tried to pull my shirt off, but got all tangled up. I finished it for him. He gently pushed me back down so I was lying flat out on my back. He sat astride me, sitting on my thighs (facing me) and renewed his efforts at getting me off.

His handwork was flawless; he knew exactly how to hold me, when to go fast and when to slow down again. I'd had sex with other guys, and it was good, but with Derek it was different. It was like we were meant to be, like we were compatible somehow. I was getting close. Derek knew I was getting close. He stopped. He stopped and got up from the bed. I was confused at first, but once I saw where he was heading I understood. He went to my wardrobe and opened the special shoebox I kept inside: the one where I kept the rubbers and lube.

He tossed the rubber at me while he began lubing up his arse. Once finished, he returned to the bed and climbed over me, lowering himself gently onto my sheathed penis. He winced as my head squeezed through his outer ring of muscles. Once my head was inside him the rest of my length smoothly followed. Had I started thrusting right then the warmth and tightness of his flesh surrounding me would've brought me to climax right away. I remained still for a few moments, enjoying the ecstasy of having my dick buried deep inside such a god-like specimen of a teenage boy. Once he'd become accustomed to my presence, and I to the intensity of his envelopment he started his attack, lifting himself gently up, and dropping hard down on me. As he picked up the pace, I began pumping my hips in time with his rising and falling strokes.

I'd always fucked him from behind before, either lying down or with him on all fours, so the experience of watching his face, seeing how he was enjoying and sharing the experience with me was a pleasure I can hardly describe. It heightened the sensations a hundred fold. For the first time, I was really experiencing making love with him, not just to him.

I was near to orgasm before we began. Within minutes I could feel the end approaching; the tightness in my balls, the tingling up and down my shaft. I grabbed onto him by the sides of his chest and thrust harder and harder, deeper and deeper inside him. He pushed down faster and squeezed tighter as my nuts tightened one last time. He must have felt my dick pulsing inside him shooting out my spunk as I reached my most intense climax ever.

Once we'd cleaned up and dressed we set off for the main street to get some munchies from the newsagents. We got there and loaded up with bags of crisps and bottles of Irn Bru and were about to head back homewards when we met Gary. It was the first time I'd spoken to him since I'd got back together with Derek. I'd managed to push all memories of our encounter to the back of my mind, but seeing him now after what had just happened brought the whole incident right back to the forefront of my thoughts.

"Alright Petros, Derek?" he asked us, by way of a greeting. I couldn't look him in the eye. I was overcome with guilt.

"Aye, we're cool mate," Derek replied, "you?"

"I'm good," Gary told us. "Glad to see you two back together, you should have seen the state of him last week!" he said about me. "You're lucky mate, he's some guy," he told Derek. Derek looked pleased to be told that, but I'm sure he wouldn't have been quite so happy if he'd understood the full implications.

I couldn't believe I'd done what I had. It was completely out of character for me. And while it wasn't strictly cheating, because Derek and me had broken up at that point, that didn't make me feel any better about it. I didn't know what to do; should I tell Derek? What someone does not know cannot hurt them, but if he were to find out somehow then it could all get very ugly.

I wanted to tell him. I thought he'd understand. And I thought it'd help me to deal with the guilt. So I did.

Gary left us, and went off to do whatever it was he was doing, he probably told us but I wasn't paying attention. I was miles away; thinking about what to say and how to say it, worrying about what Derek would think, having second thoughts (being scared of loosing him again). We got back to my house. My brother was home, so we retreated to my room to start on the snacks we'd bought. The used rubber was still there. I hoped my brother hadn't been in.

We started talking since we'd barely done so since Derek returned. He told me about Germany, and how he got injured there, and he told me more about Richard and how he'd come out. To summarise, Germany was great. The weather was really hot, the food was good and the boys were really cute. He'd injured his leg going in too hard for a tackle and somehow coming out worse off (and still without the ball) - he wasn't concentrating he claimed. Richard had told some of the others in the team because he was sick of getting teased for never having girlfriends and never being interested in girls. They all called him gay, so he decided to let them know the truth. It wasn't a glamorous or dramatic exit from the closet; there wasn't another boy in his life (I thought about setting him up with Iain or Gary) and no-one else knew, and that's how it was to stay.

Once he'd run out of stories from Germany I thought it was time to begin. "Derek, while you were away, something happened... something bad," I began.

"Bad? How? Has anything happened to you?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

"No, nothing like that," I told him. Then I thought about it. A few bad things had happened really. I probably should have told him about them; it might have gone someway towards explain what happened, I had been feeling about as low as you can feel - having been outted, then dumped, then harassed and chased, then accosted alone in the city. But I didn't. My hindsight is impeccable. "I want to tell you this, I'm sorry but I think you got a right to know... Well, I was feeling really down, and one day, at the end of the week, Gary and Iain, my mate from along the street, came round to see me," his face fell, like he knew where this was leading, "they were trying to cheer me up... and, well... we started watching a porno and we all kinda ended up having sex," he did not look amused - I looked away, "it was just like... sex, nothing more. It didn't mean anything, it was just because... well I don't know why it happened, it just did and I wish it never."

"All three of you, together?"

"Yeah," I replied, hanging my head in shame. I wanted to look at him, to see what he was thinking, but I couldn't. There was a long silence. It was painful. Eventually I could take no more. I looked up at him. There was a sadness, an unforgettable pain in his eyes. He felt betrayed - I'd let him down. "We weren't..."

"I know," he interrupted me.

" the time..." I tried to continue.

"I know," he said again.

"That should make it alright," I said, "but it doesn't."

"I know. But it should, what right have I to get upset over what you do after I dump you? This is my problem, you didn't do anything wrong, I just need time to get used to this, to sort my head out," he said. "I should go. I'll be back tonight, I want some time by myself just now."

"I've really fucked up. I've hurt you so much," I said.

"Not as much as I did by dumping you."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have... I still love you, I did then. I never stopped wanting you back. I didn't want that..."

"Shhh. It's ok. We'll be fine, don't worry," he told me as he left.

But I did worry. And I didn't think we would be fine.

To Be Continued...

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