Most of this is actually fiction, but some parts are, well, sort of autobiographical. The names of the characters, though, have been changed so as to protect their privacy. As with most stories, however, the author retains all rights to this story. Without the permission of the author, no reproductions or links to other sites are allowed.
This story deals with male homosexual love. If you are not of legal age (18 or 21, it depends actually where), or if you live/are in a place where material such as this is illegal, or if you are simply offended by homosexuality and/or homosexual themes, please leave.
Although sex is part of the story, the author is not putting any sex scenes in. ^_^ And, if you have time, please read "Similar Differences" too, under the college section of nifty. :)
I woke up to find myself lying on my side, with one arm beneath, and one arm across Ryan's midriff. My cheek was on his chest, and I could feel him inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale.
He was cozily warm. And oddly enough, I liked his smell.
As I lay there, feeling the upward-downward movement of his chest, I tried recounting what had happened the night before.
When I finally settled down after crying, Ry had asked me if I wanted to go home with him. And I did, which struck me as strange.
I somehow knew this was going to happen then. But I didn't stop it at all. And it wasn't like me to go sleeping around.
I've never slept with anyone before.
Ryan was my first. Although it wasn't really him I imagined to be with during the previous night.
At that thought, I didn't know what to feel. I wasn't sad, but neither was I happy. I was lost somewhere in between.
The worst feeling of all: nothing, being devoid of feeling.
I just snuggled up closer to him to try to get a little more sleep.
He was warm and sturdy. It was a pleasant contrast to the cool breeze coming from the room air conditioner.
Soon Ry's breathing pattern changed, and when I looked up to his face, he was smiling down at me, with sleepy eyes and tousled hair. It wasn't his small smile - it was a sleepy, content smile. He was looking at me fondly, as if I were one of his long-lost childhood toys.
I couldn't really talk, being lost in my own thoughts. Ry just started tracing lazy patterns on my face with his fingertips and tried playing with my hair.
Against him, I just nodded. It was a Saturday, and the sunshine cut through the gaps in between the Venetian blinds on his windows.
Only then did I realize the danger of what we were doing. "Oh god. What if your mom saw us?" Alarmed, I sat up away from him and tried to cover myself as much as I could with the blankets. It was either from the cold or from my nakedness.
Surprisingly, he was calm. From his prone position, he actually started chuckling a bit. "I don't think she did. She doesn't usually come or even look inside my room."
I still couldn't relax. I mean, to be caught red-handed after your first experience? "Wouldn't she be awake soon?"
"She usually gets up right before lunch. It's only 9. It's a Saturday." And with that, he sat up, too. "Besides, it was her idea to do this anyway."
I couldn't speak for a while after he said that. He had to start moving his hands in front of my eyes to get my attention.
"What!?" And he wasn't really prepared for my outburst. All of a sudden, he was wide awake. "Your mom told you to sleep with me?!"
"No! No, no! Shhh..."
Suddenly becoming self-conscious, I lowered my voice a bit. "Then what?"
Ry just put a hand on my shoulder and gazed at me. "I told her that I was a bit... confused."
Since I couldn't pinpoint how this was related to me, I prodded him to continue. "Yes?"
He sighed and said, "And she told me to get to know myself a bit more. To be sure first."
And then it made sense. What he told me the night before, what he did the night before that, and why we were like that in his bed that morning.
I doubt that Mrs. Corwen had this in mind though. And I suddenly felt a bit guilty, even if this was what Ry wanted.
"Chris," he started, "are you upset?"
I actually wasn't. Still, the thought of his mom catching us in bed together didn't quite appeal to me. "No, I'm not. But I think I have to get dressed."
"Yeah. Good idea. I guess." he said.
I was about to step out onto the floor when I realized that I was naked. And I didn't know how to continue.
"Uhm..." How could I explain it to him? I ended up just pulling the blanket along with me, grabbing my clothes off the floor and waddling to the bathroom, which was, thankfully, adjoining his room. I imagine I would have had a much more difficult time if the bathroom were in the hallway connecting both his and his mom's room.
He found the whole picture of me, wrapped in his blanket, clothes in tow, having difficulty holding everything up, amusing. I heard him giggling on his bed, and when I looked back, there he was, seated on his sheets, trying not to laugh. I found it a bit annoying.
Although I did get to see his naked form in the soft glow of the sunlight. He definitely was an athlete.
"You know, we've done more than look at each other last night, Chris."
"You're a pervert." I closed the bathroom door on an image of him laughing on his bed.
I had no choice but to get into the clothes I had worn to school the day before. I was pretty lucky that they didn't stink yet. Or at least, I imagined that they didn't.
When I got out, I found Ry dressed in a shirt and shorts. I had to admit, I was a bit disappointed.
"You're really not upset?" He was using his soft, cautious tone.
"Nope. I'm not."
"About last night."
"Yeah, I'm not. I'm really not upset."
"No, I wasn't finished yet," It was then that I realized that I was still tense. "I meant, about last night, you know what it meant, right?"
"Uhm... not really." What did it mean?
Slowly, he said, "I know you are in love with someone else and not with me. And I respect that. I just want to learn more about myself."
Just what did he mean by "I respect that?"
"I understand." I smiled.
"Just tell me you don't want to anymore, whenever, and we'll stop it, okay?"
Trouble is, I didn't think I could stop myself. Even if I wanted to.
Since then, Ry and I would get together a lot. During those long breaks at school, sometimes I'd wait for him after Judo practice, we'd go over to his place and get into his room.
Every time it left me with a strange high.
I even started sleeping over, much to Mrs. Corwen's delight.
I still felt a little guilty about her, but at least it made Ryan happy.
But even making Ryan happy was tainted.
Whenever we'd crawl into bed with each other, I'd see Vince, not Ryan.
The Judo Team practiced late in the afternoon, sometimes from 5 onwards, sometimes from 6. Practice usually lasted for two or three hours. I think the coach, Dr. Que, a certified pediatrician, wanted to prep his team for competition which started somewhere towards the beginning of the second semester.
That simply meant that the team would be black and blue all throughout the coming semestral break.
Watching practice made me uneasy. I mean, Ry would almost always end up on the mat. I did believe him when he said that it was all safe, though. They actually help cushion the fall of their opponents.
He tried to throw me once back at his place. He had a practice mat somewhere buried underneath his bed. It went so fast that everything just went blurry, and I thought I was flying for just a few seconds. Before I knew it, I was on the floor, and he was looking down at me with a smile.
It hurt, but I do admit, it wasn't as bad as it looked. Surprisingly.
Interestingly, too, Ry and I became very good friends. I thought what we were doing would jeopardize our relationship. What, with me and him always at it like rabbits? Maybe it was fine because I wasn't just a body to him - he respected me, and I respected him. He didn't just use me to get off. I was there to help him "make sure."
(Very simplistic, but it did sound better than 'to help him "release."')
And, though I'd picture Vince to be in his place, I recognized Ry to be my best friend.
But, really. Do friends have sex with each other?
Well, maybe they do.
Chris, Want to go out on Friday night? My treat. - Ry
I held the note in my sweaty palm. All throughout the day I was asking him where we'd be going, but he didn't answer. He'd just tell me to dress smart. Our final exams had just ended, and I felt a bit happier about my performance this time around, not like during my midterm week.
I was supposed to meet him at his place at 6, and Mrs. Corwen greeted me as she let me in. "Oh hello Chris!"
"Good evening, Mrs. Corwen."
"My, my. Looking really nice tonight. Have a date?" She said, looking me up and down. I had a blue long-sleeved shirt on and khaki slacks. Nothing so fancy, really. But I do admit, I dressed a bit more than the usual because Ry told me to. The thud-thud of Ry's footsteps could be heard from downstairs.
"Ry! Chris is here!" Mrs. Corwen called up the stairs.
From the living room, I could hear the thuds of his footsteps hurrying.
I could actually follow the thud-thud-thud and know where he'd be. That's what I did: I followed his feet until they stopped at the top of the stairs and came thundering down.
He had a similar outfit on - only his shirt was red and slacks were black. When he saw me, he beamed.
It made me really happy to see him smile like that. It's as if he were really, genuinely happy.
"My, my. Both of you are dressed alike," Mrs. Corwen said, happily, "What's the occasion? Double date?"
"Yes, ma. Bye now!" Ry started ushering me out the door.
"Wait! Ryan Corwen, come back here! Do you have your keys?"
"Okay. Take care, you two!"
"See you Mrs. Corwen." I could've sworn she winked at me then.
When we got into Ry's car, we were both red. We didn't start talking until Ry turn on the ignition and started driving.
"So, where we headed?"
"You'll see." He smiled back at me.
We drove in silence, each with his own thoughts. "What's the occasion, Ry?"
"It's been two months since we first slept with each other." He smiled.
It was? Really? He must've noticed the puzzled look I had on my face so he said, "Well, almost. I think." I found it odd that I was celebrating the second monthsary of the loss of my virginity, but Ry said it in a friendly, easy manner that I didn't really mind. He made it seem as if people all over the world celebrate their first sexual encounter by dressing up in slacks and going somewhere for dinner.
The oddities of life. I didn't buy it, really. Who does dress up to commemorate the first time they dressed down (to nothing) with someone else?
After another few moments of silence, he said, "Well, that's not really the occasion, but, come to think of it, it is a bit close to the time when we first... got to know each other much better." He smiled even more brightly.
Ever since we started, he seemed like an altogether "whole lot happier" person.
"So... what is the occasion?"
He stopped the car in front of The Branch, a really swanky restaurant, complete with valet drivers. "The Branch? Are you sure..."
"It's nothing, okay? C'mon."
It seemed as if I underestimated him.
He had made reservations and we had a really, really nice table, complete with candles.
When the menu arrived, I hesitated a bit. I didn't want to seem fresh.
"It's okay. Order whatever." He whispered and smiled reassuringly. From where I sat, the candle light from the table behind him seemed to form a halo on his head.
When we'd talk, cheesy as it sounds, I'd get distracted by the candle light reflecting off his eyes.
Dinner was more than wonderful. I was stuffed. I couldn't stop saying thanks to him to the point that he copied me, "If I asked you to pay me for every..."
When we parked back at his place, he turned to me.
"Chris, thanks," I was about to cut him off but he raised his hand. "Please let me finish. Please." so I shut my big mouth after that. "I really, really want to thank you for all your help. I mean, not just with Spanish. For putting up with me, and, well, for everything."
He stopped for a while. "Thanks. Really."
Deeply moved, I didn't know what to say. Some part of me thought that I didn't deserve any of this at all.
We just got out as he lead me to his room.
During the few days of being free from classes in between terms, our so-called "semestral break," Tara, Spanky and I hung out a lot. Ryan was busy with practice so we didn't have as many opportunities to meet up with each other like we did during our first term.
I, for one, thought that what we were doing was well-kept. If anyone had the distinct possibility of finding us out, it would've been Mrs. Corwen - although if her wink-wink was any indication, I didn't think she'd have minded anyway.
I guess I was just being a little too cautious to the point of seeming defensive when Tara made a stray comment once while we were out.
She was mulling over blouses ("Sleeveless or three-fourths?") over at the mall. Since Spanky wouldn't have any of it, and since Tara didn't really respect in his taste in clothes anyway, I was given the distinction "Tara's Little Helper." And whenever she'd run into a fashion dilemma at the mall, it's "Chris, the blue one or the black one?" or "Chris, capris or flares?" Of course, Spanky would be over at the record bar while Tara'd be fussing around in a girlie shop... with me.
"Hm... Chris, what's been up with you lately?"
"What do you mean?"
She took another blouse off the rack, looked into the mirror holding it just beneath her face. "I mean," putting the blouse back and looking directly at me, "you, I don't know, seem a lot happier? I noticed it since Ry started having lunch with us again." She raised an eyebrow knowingly.
"Huh? I do?"
I decided to ignore wanton look on her face. "Um, that's good, isn't it?"
"Yeah," and then, staring fixedly at me, "Unless he's got you on a drug."
So I was that obvious. And all along I thought it was only Ry who seemed to be on Prozac. Then again, anti-depressants also have their contraindications.
Just what were we doing?
I was lying on my side, watching the blinds of Ry's room, trying to peer through the opening where the sunlight normally creeps into. Ry was spooning me, and held me around my waist.
Before I turned over, I had been watching him sleep. The light from the streetlamp outside cast its soft blue glow on his face.
He looked so peaceful. Almost beautiful.
Too beautiful that I couldn't bear it.
Just what were we doing?
I thought Ry just wanted "to get to know himself more." We've been at it for over two months now, hadn't he found himself? And just plain sex would've been enough for him to tell whether he liked guys or not. I didn't see the point of cuddling and snuggling afterwards.
Yet I enjoyed it, too. I loved his warmth.
Sure, Ry and I would do it, but in my mind's eye, it wasn't really Ryan now, was it?
In so many ways, it wasn't fair to Ryan. But he was the one who wanted this. My wanting it too was just a consequence of his wanting it first. He himself said that it had nothing to do with love.
Besides, there was nothing between us.
I didn't know if I was being cheap. I didn't know if he was either.
I didn't know what we were doing at all.
I was lost somewhere in between, feeling the worst feeling of all: nothing; being devoid of feeling.
I didn't know where to go.
Ry's hand started to move upward and captured mine. He squeeze it lightly and snuggled up closer to my ear, whispering, "Anything wrong?"
I whispered back, "No. Nothing at all."