This is a story of friendship, commitment, love and trust. It is not a sex story. However, this story deals with love between two male teenagers. If you are offended by stories involving love between two teenage boys, please do not read this story. There will be some sex scenes in this story; however, sex is not the main theme. If you are under age 18 or 21 or it is illegal to read this story where you live, don't read it. Reproducing this story for distribution without the owner's permission is a violation of that copyright.
I was wandering around the streets with my baggage trying to find a hotel and getting pretty frustrated. Paris is not what I expected; I've seen two guys kissing and most of the people I ask for directions from are just rude! My luck changed when I stopped at this little cafe the waiter who was English was really nice and he introduced me to his two friends: Sven, who is a sculptor from Sweden and Alex, who is from Germany.
Alex helped me get a room. He's got a great sense of humor, easy to get along with. He's the first German-German (as opposed to American-German) I've ever met.
Ian invited me to a party with lots of girls and drink. I met a lot of people but my French is really bad; there was no one my age they all seemed to be in their thirties and forties; it was pretty much of a bummer for me. One fifty-year-old woman tried making out with me. I got away from her and found this really pretty girl about twenty, but she told me to take a hike when I told her about the old lady who tried to make out with me. I made some really nasty comments about the old lady; the old lady was her mother!
Three queers tried to hit on me, Sven thought it was funny. I let him know it wasn't at all funny to me; he called me a homophobic and still thought it was funny. I ended up getting drunk and vomited three times on the way home.
I am never going to drink again, I swear!
I didn't wake until the next afternoon and then with a pounding headache and my mouth feeling like it was full of cotton. Some how I made it to the cafe.
"Bonjour, Jason!" said the cheerful Brit.
"I've got a pounding headache...uggh" I muttered as I laid my head on the table. I swear I will never drink another drop!
Ian brought me something to drink, which helped.
I decided to go for a walk. I found an art store and bought an art pad; spending the rest of the afternoon sketching; Notre Dame, people sitting in the park, some vendors by the river and a cute boy about ten, practicing with a soccer ball. He was really good. I show him the sketch and he really liked it. I saw an office supply across the street from the park, made a copy of the sketch and gave it to him. What's with these people? The effussive kid gave me a hug!
I return to the cafe about 6pm and saw Alex, I walked over to his table.
"Bonjour," I said.
"Soir'" he replied.
"Yes, Bon Jour is good day, but it's evening so you should say 'soir' Bonsoir' Good evening" he smiled.
I have to tell you he has an incredible smile!
"So, whasup? I queried.
"Yeah dude, waasupp?" I laughed," What's the haps? What is goin' on? Has anything even slightly interesting happened today in your world?"
He laughed ,"I got it yank!"
"Yank! I ain't no yank I's born'n'breed in da soauf, Dude!"
We both laughed.
"So how was the party?"
"Terrible! Three queers hit on me and one old bitch!" I replied, "But that's not the worst! I meet this real fine chic; I mean one hot babe; I made a remark about the old bitty and she tells me that the old bitty is her mom! So, I got drunk and woke up this morning with one hellofa hang-over. So, How's your day?"
"Quite, no emergencies, that is to say boring!"
"I did some sketches, want to see 'em?"
"Sure!" I gave him my art book. He made the usual comments people make - I think he was impressed. I studied his face as he looked at my sketches. He has light wavy brown hair with natural blonde highlights, and oval face, almost slate-grey eyes, a boyish looking face and when he smiles two cute dimples form in his cheeks. He doesn't look nineteen, but then I don't look seventeen. He looked up at me with a slight smile, the dimples just slightly showing. I was transfixed. We sat there for a few moments gazing at each other.
"What?" he asked.
"Sorry," I said, "I'm not a fag or gay, I-I was just studying you facial features. Ugh, I, ugh would like to do a portrait of you or something..."
Oh, God!, I was blushing. Fuck it!
"Oh,yeah...ugh yeah cool! Uh, anytime, just let me know," Alex said.
"Yeah, uh, maybe tomorrow."
"Hey, you want to improve your French?"
"There's a movie showing at the cinema which you've probably seen in English; it's been dubbed in French, want to go?" he asked and smiled.
Alex has an irresistible smile. How could I say no? "Sure, oui!" I replied.
We had a great time. I understood very little of the movie, but 'The Matrix' is still great. Afterwards, we stopped at a bistro for coffee. Alex and I were talking and this guy comes up and sits next to me at the bar. He starts talking to Alex. I thought he was some friend of Alex. He says a few things to me, but I hadn't a clue what he said.
"He says he thinks you're a very handsome young man," Alex said.
"Thanks, uh merci," I said to him not wanting to be rude.
He and Alex resumed their conversation and the next thing I knew this guy is stroking the left side of my ribs. After a minute or so I said loudly, "What the hell are you doing? You fucking queer! "
"I'm very sorry, I thought you were boyfriends..."
"I'm not a fag! Just get the hell away from me, pervert!" I yelled.
"Let's go, Jason," said Alex in almost a whisper.
We left the bistro. We walk along the boulevard without saying anything.
I knew I'd embarrassed him. After a few blocks I finally spoke, "I'm sorry, Alex. I didn't mean to embarrass you. It just startled me."
"It's okay," he said quietly, "I guess he deserved it."
He still seemed upset about it. "You'restill upset about this, aren't you?"
We walked on further in silence.
"So talk to me about it...I know I was ill mannered and I said I was sorry. I don't understand why you're still upset. It's just a queer."
He spoke quietly, "I know the guy was wrong for touching you. And your upset is totally justified. But you're general attitude towards gays is what I don't like. I've known guys who were gay and most of them are great people. They bleed, they cry, they laugh, they have feelings just like you. They don't chose to be gay - they are gay; that's just the way they are. They are attracted to their own sex. For most of them it's generally hard for them to accept what they are because of society in general and people like you. Some of them never accept it and lead a miserable life. A life where they can't be free to be themselves. You know a little compassion for your fellow human beings goes a long way. Anyway, it's something for you to think about. Try looking at the world through their eyes. Here's my hotel. Later."
He didn't give me a chance to say anything. Now, I feel bad. Why do I feel bad about this?
to be continued...
|I got an editor! Thanks Chad - you're terrific! Any comments appreciated! Later, wf|