This is a story of friendship, commitment, love and trust. It is not a sex story. However, this story deals with love between male teenagers. If you are offended by stories involving love between two teenage boys, please do not read this story. There may 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.

Author's Comment: I appreciate your e-mails. Again thanks to Ed the editor for editing. And again thanks go to Drew - without his help and advise and comments this story would never have been written. I am working on chapter 11.

I really would like some feedback on this story what you think - whether you have a better understanding of those who have a vision impairment, etc.

Sam (sam_lakes@hotmail.com)

As always I look forward to any comments.

Blind Love

by Sam Lakes

Chapter 10

I had two weeks off which I was taking advantage of by painting our flat. My boyfriend has to work because he’s agreed to do some Orientation and Mobility training for a teen actor by the name of Hawken Sugarstone – I wondered if that was his real name. Now for those of you who don’t know what Orientation and Mobility training is, it’s the training they give blind or vision-impaired people to help them become more independent and mobile - able to get around on their own.

My boyfriend Cyril is blind and has been since birth. I met Cyril six years ago at a Manchester United football game (soccer for you yanks). Now I am a big MU fan but they didn’t have a good year that year – sometimes I tease Cyril, I tell him that it’s all his fault cuz he went to his first and last MU game – he was clearly for the other team. Anyway, I spent the whole game telling him what was going on. When the game was over he just sat there.

“Is there something wrong?” I asked.

“Nope. I don’t like trying to move about when there’s a bunch of angry fans trying to get out.” – it was only then that I realized that he was blind.

I started laughing.


“I just realized you’re blind. I thought you were trying to be really friendly.”

“You mean as in trying to pick you up?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I wouldn’t think a football game is a good place to pick up guys.”

“Hey, of hundred thousand guys ten thousand are bound to be gay.”

“So, you chance getting beaten up nine times in hopes that you’ll find that one guy in ten?”

“Well, you know gaydar?”

“Gaydar, hmm, my gaydar is broken,” he sad pointing to his eyes, “Anyway I wasn’t trying to pick you up, I just needed to know how badly your team was losing,” he laughed.

Cyril, his laugh, his voice, and his sense of humor fascinated me and he was pretty hot looking too. We talked for a couple hours and had some fish and chips together – I didn’t see him again for two years when I literally ran into him at Pinewood.

Cyril is an audio technician and a damn good one. We were both taking some vacation time for the next two weeks and at the last minute he was asked by one of the directors if he could do some O & M training for a sighted boy who was going to do a part in a movie.

Cyril reckoned a couple of hours, half a day at the most, which meant one day of our vacation gone but he would have done the favor and Cyril is one for doing favors because you never know when you may need a favor.

I was expecting him home Monday evening but instead I got a phone call.

“Joe, you have got to come and meet this kid,” said an enthusiastic Cyril.

“Well, hello and how are you? Had a nice day? Oh smashing day, Cyril love, I painted the kitchen so we can go the Brighton. No, it's Joe, you’ve got to meet this kid.”

“Oh, sorry, how was your day?”

“I painted the kitchen but I have the feeling we’re not going to Brighton as planned.”

“Of course we are, love…just…”

“…not this year,” I said finishing his sentence. I know Cyril loves doing O & M training for the vision impaired, especially teens because it gives them confidence and independence but this is different, this kid was sighted so I didn’t really understand why he would give up his vacation to do O& M training.

“Thanks, love, I knew you would understand.”

“The thing is I don’t, I don’t understand. I thought this was going to be a four-hour session. I mean he’s sighted!”

“Well, yes but you know I remember the last sighted boy I trained didn’t take off his shades for a week because his mate was blind and he wanted to have at least some idea of what his mate experienced.”

“Well, that was different. I was, am and will always be totally in love with you. He’s not, at least I hope he’s not.”

“Well, we do get along rather well – but he already has a boyfriend who’s blind. He reminds me a lot of you – and he really wants to meet you, I think he needs your friendship and guidance. He only came out to his mother a month ago and she pretended to be all right about it but she’s a hateful mean bitch from what I can tell.”

“What about his father?”

“He died when Hawken was three. Oh yeah and if he looks half as good as he sounds he’s hot.”

I had to laugh. “Mate, you just want me to come and describe his succulent teenage body, you dirty ol’man!”

“Nooo! Well, can’t say I haven’t been a bit curious, but no-o-o,” he laughed, “Joking aside, love, he needs us, not just me.”

“All right, I’m on my way. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

So I got my stuff together, locked up the flat and was off to Uxbridge. I was still half asleep sitting next to Cyril when Cyril said, “I hear him.” I looked up and saw the most attractive boy I think I have ever seen slowly maneuvering himself across the lobby to the coffee shop.

“Blond hair, about 5’ 6” or so, with a cane, slim, wearing off white cargo pants keeping that special package you were hoping to see a total mystery…tell him tomorrow he has to wear Spandex. He must have a voice like an angel because he is totally hot. I’ll have him for breakie,” I laughed.

“Sshh! And behave yourself!” Cyril giggled.

“He made it to the hostess…she greets him…Oh my god he has got a killer smile…he’s holding his cane diagonally across his body and she’s leading him here.”

“Good morning, Cyril. Cyril, I did it! I got all the way here by myself! Last night I organized all my stuff – socks, boxers, trousers, shirts, and even my money!”

“That’s fantastic! Hawken, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Joseph Riley. Joe, this is Hawken Sugarstone.”

“Please to meet you, sir,” said Hawken, he had the cutest smile on his face, “I hear you’re a United fan. Pity about the Southampton game, still can’t win them all.”

“So you into football?”

“Yeah, a bit. Not too good at it myself but I like watching it.”

“What’s your favorite team?”

“Woverhampton,” he giggled.


He giggled again, “No actually, I like Arsenal. When I was twelve we lived in London and all my friends were Arsenal fans. I went to a game once and it was so awesome – I guess I sort of learned to love the sport, then we went back to the States – I tried to keep up, occasionally I see a game on ESPN. You know you start talking about soccer in high school where I lived and they look at you sideways.” He made a goofy face and said, “Soccer – duh.”

He is cute.

As we were walking over to the studios, waiting to cross he suddenly says, “Russell Watson is so hot. I saw him in concert when I was fourteen. I wanted his autograph so bad, but I was too shy and scared cuz it seemed a bit queer to me – me being so infatuated with him I’d have probably said something stupid and he would have known I was queer and hated me. Joe? Do your parents hate you being queer?”

“No, they’re pretty special.” I knew he was hurting inside and he tried not to show it. My parents had always been fine with me being gay and they adore Cyril. In the beginning they were like most sighted people, tending to look at blindness as a horrible infliction – Cyril’s attitude is it’s just a bit of an inconvenience sometimes. My parents’ attitudes have since changed, they think he walks on water.

I started calling Hawken Hawky because Hawken is too formal and Hawk is not him. ‘Hawky’ seemed to match his cuteness.

That evening as we were going to sleep Cyril asked, “Well, what do you think of our boy?”

“Our boy?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, truth is…I sort of think we’re gonna become like his parents in a weird sort of way. I saw his face when he asked about my parents hating me because I am queer…that’s got to hurt; he hides it well but it’s there.”

“So, you like him then?”

“No…I think it’s more like I love, not like I love you, but love like I want to be there for him as a friend but closer – like my parents were for me.”

Cyril smiled and then kissed me, “I knew you’d fall in love with him just like me.”

I had a great week with Cyril and Hawky – I think we all did and that weekend we invited him to spend the weekend with us – his face lit up like Christmas when I asked him – God! I wish he didn’t have those shades on. It’s really getting to me – his eyes – wanting to know what they are like but the little git won’t take them off.

Cyril and I were in our room making out when I heard him tuning my guitar. “He plays guitar?” I stated more than asked but a minute later he started playing one of my favorite songs and singing too. What a voice! That ended our snogging session and started a jamming session. Cyril brought out his keyboard and we all took turns playing guitar or keyboard and singing. It was great! The weekend was one I will never forget.

Monday was fine but Tuesday was almost a disaster. When Hawky came down for breakfast he seemed really distant and hardly talked at all and then with only words of one syllable. I was busy putting obstacles in his way and on a couple he would stumble but not fall, on one he fell. He just lay there. I made some comment and he just started crying, I mean heartbreaking sobs. We had some people watching and I just signaled them to go away. Cyril came over and we talked with Hawky for a while, found out his problem was not seeing Alex and getting into an argument with John, Alex’s father.

Last night Cyril and I had talked about getting Hawky to record and I supposed Cyril figured this was as good a time as ever and it was time to take a break and have a bit of fun so Cyril and Hawky went off to the recording studio and I went to see if I could get a guitar and maybe a few guys to jam with. Well, I tell you, you say jam session for fun and you’d be surprised how many guys will turn up – I felt like the Pied Piper.

I met Alan, Hawky’s director, on the way to the recording studio, “Hey, Joe, how’s Hawky? Someone said he fell down and was crying. He wasn’t hurt, was he?”

“No, not a bit, Alan. He just had a rough night, you know teenage pressures and all that. So we’re taking a break. He’s got a fantastic voice and Cyril wants to record him and then I think send a CD to his best mate.”

“Oh yeah, he told me. He’s blind, you know, his best friend. Mind if I join you – we’re taking a break for an hour. I’d like to hear him.”

“Not at all. I think that would make him happy – he thinks you’re quote really cool and awesome unquote,” I laughed.

How I got the guys in there without Hawky knowing I do not know. I guess Cyril was keeping his attention and the headset blocked a lot of the noise. It was a surprise and fun. While Cyril was doing the recording I was busy writing a note to Alex’s father asking him to let Alex have the CD and telling him my – our feelings about Hawky and the deal he had made with Cyril. Neither Cyril nor I thought Hawky had enough experience after two weeks to venture a trip on his own to Lingfield. I told him how we had sort of adopted Hawky as we could relate to Hawky’s and Alex’s relationship because Cyril is blind and I am sighted. I explained briefly what O & M training was about and that Cyril is willing to train Alex as a gift to them both. I invited Alex and him to Pinewood as our guests and to give Alex an introductory lesson, I told him too not to tell Alex yet as Alex would tell Hawky and we wanted it to be a surprise. I asked him to call us.

That evening he called and told us what a silly old fool he’d been. He’d almost started crying when he heard Hawky’s message to Alex but he really lost it when he heard Hawky sing. He said he would arrive around 9:00 at Victoria and that meant he’d be at the studios by 10:30 or so.

“Cool, tomorrow we’ll tell Hawken and…” said Cyril.

“Oh! No way! This has got to be a surprise! After all he hasn’t shown me his eyes and this is the perfect way to do it!”

“You’re being juvenile,” Cyril said.

“You just don’t like surprises.”

“That’s true but I just feel this is too important to him to spring on him as a surprise. Just remember surprises sometimes backfire.”

“Come on, Cyril, what could happen?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t think it’s right.”

Cyril finally unwillingly surrendered.

I was like totally excited Friday morning when we arrived at 8 am in the restaurant. When 8:30 arrived and Hawky didn’t I got worried. I went to the front desk of the hotel.

“Could you ring Hawken Sugarstone’s room and tell him we are waiting for him in the restaurant.”

“Oh, he’s the blind boy, right?”


“Sir he left the hotel at seven this morning. He asked for me to get him a taxi to Uxbridge Station.” Suddenly, I felt sick as my heart and stomach seemed to switch place.

I walked back to the restaurant and sat down.

“Well, is he up yet?”

“Oh, yeah he’s up! Just don’t say ‘I told you so’.”

“What? Joe, what’s the matter? What’s happened!”

“He’s on his way to Lingfield…”

“Damn it Joe, I told you we should have told him! FUCK! He’s nowhere near ready to make a trip like that! He’s not use to traffic or crossing streets – SHIT! What if he gets lost or freaks out in the traffic!”

“Well, then he’ll probably take off his shades and…”

“Oh! Yeah right! If he hasn’t taken them off for you do you really think he’ll take them off until he sees Alex? Get real! Besides it would probably be the worst thing he could do – he’s been blind for two weeks – it’s a bright sunny day – his optic nerves have gotten used to not seeing and he knows better because I told him that he should make sure he’s in a practically dark room.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Pray, Joe. Pray that he makes it to Lingfield…”

. Write me - Sam Lakes sam_lakes@hotmail.com