Date: Wed, 11 Jan 2006 13:49:24 -0800 From: Ryan Miller Subject: Bonding Energy Ch. 1 Consider this the second edition of my story. I looked back at my early works and saw how much I have improved as a writer and thought it only behooved me to polish up what I had written. So, I went through and edited the story stylistically and structurally. The story is still the same, just shinier. Disclaimer: This is a homoerotic story I have written, so if you aren't allowed legally, morally or ethically to read it, then don't. And don't post this anywhere else without my expressed premission. Feedback is very much encouraged, so hit me up at bluedragon314@gmail.com. Ch. 1 It was a typical day ... well, typical for me at least. My life could never be defined as typical. My name is Kyle Wilson. I was orphaned at the age of 6 when my parents were killed in a bank robbery. My father tried to stop the robbers and my mom tried to stop him. You can probably guess what happened. None of my relatives were willing to take in my older brother, James, and me, so we floated through the foster care system for several years. When James turned 18, and I was 14, he moved out, got his own place and got a job as a graphic designer for an advertising company. Within a year, he had been promoted to the head of his department (he had a knack for that sort of thing, I guess). Soon he was making enough money to become my legal guardian, so I moved in with him. So, I'm an orphaned high school sophomore living with his older brother. Add the advanced classes I'm taking, the friends I don't have and the fact that I'm gay and my life is anything but typical. To get on with the story, it was a typical day in my favorite advanced class: organic chemistry. That class was the love and hate of my life. I loved the subject, but hated the stupid jocks who loved nothing more than to tease the "squash-more." I'm not sure why a bunch of dumb jocks would want to take organic chemistry, but I bet it had something to do with the young, blond teaching assistant. But the class wasn't total torture, for what they saw in her I definitely saw in them, or at least one of them. His name was Brian. I think his last name was Freeman or Fleishman or something, but that never mattered to me. I just knew him as Brian — the hottest guy in our whole school. He had spiked, blond hair that went very well with his chiseled features. I would have given anything to have PE with him so I could steal a look as his ripped body, but I had to be satisfied with tight shirts that showed off bulging biceps and a flat stomach. I often wondered what it would be like to be as built as him, but my slender figure refused to bulk up. And what I loved most about him was his piercing, blue eyes. They were so clear and had a depth that said there was something going on in that thick, jock head of his. I tried not to look at them because they were so easy to get lost in. Brian, being the quarterback, captain of the wrestling team, and all-star thrower for the track team, led the pack of hooligans who harassed me. One day in class, while I was taking notes on alkenes, I felt something hit my leg. It came from the direction of the jock table so I knew it was one of the many projectiles they would throw at me over the course of the day. But they usually hit my head. 'Their aim is getting worse,' I thought. I kept taking notes and paid them no heed, though I could hear them snickering. "Psst!" I heard a voice say. I looked up in the direction of the voice and did a double take when I saw Brian's tanzanite eyes staring back at me. I took this rare opportunity to stare into them, not thinking about what he wanted. He looked down at he floor and then back up at me. I just stared into his eyes, adrift in the clear, blue window to his soul. But I was thrust back into reality when he broke the gaze and looked up at the teacher who was now standing next to us. "Brian, is there something you need help with?" she asked. "Uh, no. I was just asking Kyle if he had extra paper," said Brian. I didn't remember him asking for paper. 'What had I missed while I was entranced?' I thought. I remembered that he looked at the floor. I looked down and saw the wadded up piece of paper he hit me with. "Psst!" I heard again. I glanced back at Brian. He quickly looked down at the paper and back up at me, then turned back to his notes before the teacher noticed. I picked it up and unwadded it to see it was a note. 'The guy of my dreams just gave me a note!' I squealed inside. I was sure it wouldn't be the kind I was hoping for, but I was still excited. It said: Hey Kyle, I know I've been a jerk all year and I'm sorry. I really need your help with this chemistry stuff. If I don't pass, I will have to stay one more year and I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to. One more year of high school would drive me nuts. Would you help me study? I could pay you if that's what it takes. I really need to pass and would appricate your help. Brian "Well?" I heard Brian say. I looked up from the note and saw him look warily between me and the teacher. "What do you think?" he said in his best attempt at a whisper. 'What do I think?' I said to myself. 'I thought it was cute how he spelled appreciate wrong. But I could have the hottest guy I know alone with me talking about my favorite subject in the world. Hell yes, I'll do it!' But I wanted to see how long I could drag this out. "I'm not sure," I said with a shadow of a smirk as I teased him. I would have kept on going if I hadn't seen the glow of his eyes falter. I could tell he was kind of worried about this, so I stopped messing around and wrote "Sure," on the paper and handed it to him. When he looked at my reply, he looked very relieved and he quickly wrote a response on the paper and handed it back to me making sure the teacher didn't see. It said: Thanks. Meet me at the flagpole at 3:10. TELL NO ONE! '3:10?' I thought. 'School got out at 2:45, so he must really not want to attract attention to this.' The rest of chemistry went along fine. It was the last class of the day, so I just had to wait twenty-five minutes until 3:10 rolled around. Right after class, I headed out to the flagpole, sat on a bench and played my Gameboy while I waited. It was 3:20 when he finally arrived. Everyone else was gone by then, but I think that's what he intended. "Hey Kyle, thanks for doing this," he said. "I know I've been a jerk all year ... are you OK?" That question caught me off guard and I realized I had been lost in his eyes again. "Um, yeah. I'm fine," I said, knowing it was a terrible cover-up. "So, did you want to go to my house or yours?" "Huh?" he said. "For the studying," I said. "Oh yeah. We'd better go to your place, if that's ok. My mom is getting ready for a party and she doesn't like it when other people are around while she cleans." "Weird," I said. I figured all mothers would enjoy spending time with their sons. "It's not too bad," he said. "It means I don't have to clean anything." He had a good point and I laughed at his little joke. Me and the boy of my dreams joking and laughing together. I guess that's what you call hitting it off. "Well, lets go to my car and you can show me where you live," he said. I scanned the parking lot as we walked, hoping to figure out which car would belong to a gorgeous jock. When he opened the door to a Honda Civic, I was rather disappointed. 'A Civic?' I thought. 'What kind of a jock car is that? People like him are supposed to have a Mustang or a Trans Am.' But it was a nice car, with its quicksilver seat covers and a stereo system that was probably worth more than the car was (but that's not hard with a Civic). We got in and, as he drove out of the parking lot, he asked, "So, where do you live." "By Maple and 36th ," I said. "Cool, I live about three blocks from there," he said. 'No way!' I thought. 'The boy of my dreams within walking distance of where I sleep.' This day was getting me really excited. But I tried not to let myself get too excited. I had to remind myself that none of my fantasies were going to come true and that we were just going to study. Even if he was gay, what would he see in a guy like me? Despite my best efforts at exercising, I was still scrawny. My short, brown hair was scruffy and my overall look just wasn't that appealing, at least not to me. Compared to his beauty, I was nothing. We got to my house and he parked on the side of the street. It was a modest, two-story house my brother was renting from an old lady. It would normally be really expensive, but James took the photos for the old lady's granddaughter's wedding and she was really impressed with his work, so she let us stay there for dirt-cheap. I walked inside and Brian followed, tentatively. I walked to the back of the house and threw my stuff on the kitchen table and he did the same. "Would you like anything to drink?" I asked. "No, I'm cool," he said. I went to the garage though the kitchen to get myself a Coke and when I came back I was shocked to see James holding Brian in a full-Nelsen up against the wall. "James, stop!" I yelled, worried for my brother's safety. If he knew whom he was restraining, he would have been far more careful. "You know this guy?" James asked. "Yes, he's here to study chemistry with me," I said. James looked at Brian who was now red in the face, probably from trying not to turn around and snap my bother's neck. James was strong, but more in heart than in body. The foster system had turned him into a raving lunatic when it came to defending me, and he attacked any threat with full force. "Let him go James," I pleaded. "He's a friend." James pondered that statement for a moment, then decided to let go. He walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs without a word. I heard his door close and Lead Zeppelin started playing. (He always played Zep' when he was mad.) "Sorry about that," I apologized to Brian. "He's really protective of me." "No kidding?" he said, rubbing his neck. "Was that your brother?" "Yeah," I said. We sat down at the kitchen table and got our books out. "So, where do we start?" he asked. "Well, what do you need help in?" I asked. "I don't know. All of it." "Well you must know something about chemistry." "Not really." "What's electron affinity?" "Is that even English?" "Can you draw Lewis structures?" "No." "What's CH4?" "Carbon hydro...I don't know. That's why I need your help." I looked into his eyes as he leaned on his hand and sighed. Their dull grey color told me he was really frustrated and disappointed, and the books weren't even open yet. I could see I had my work cut out for me. I wasn't sure what to do, so I started with chapter one: Carbon Bonds. (We had to start somewhere.) As we studied, we were both amazed at how fast and well he caught on. It seemed he could learn a lot better without his flunkies or a blond in a tight skirt to distract him. After a few hours, we both decided it was getting late and that two chapters was enough studying for one night. "Thanks Kyle," he said as we packed up our books and stuff. "I really can't tell you how cool it is for you to do this, even after I was an ass all year." "It's OK, it never really bothered me," I said. That was a blatant lie. I had come home countless times crying because of the stuff he and his friends had done to me. If it wasn't a wedgie that challenged my ability to have children it was gravy poured over my head at lunch. "Well, I'll try and get them to tone it down," he said. "Sorry for making you feel bad. You're a cool guy, and I appreciate your help." "I appricate it too," I mumbled under my breath. "Huh," he said. "Uh, same time tomorrow?" I said and congratulated myself on a smooth recovery. "No, I can't. My mom has that party and I have to go to it," he said. "'Have to go?' can it be that bad?" I said. "Yeah," he said. "It's a party for my dad's friends at work. He's a sports writer for the newspaper and they want to throw a party for an editor who won some award." "That does sound bad," I said. "Can you get out of it?" "No, I already agreed to it, and I have to take my girlfriend," he said. "Why are you making her go if it's gonna be lame?" I asked "They insisted I bring her so they could meet her," he said. If I wasn't mistaken, I heard a twinge of anxiety in his voice. Well, I would be nervous, too, if I had committed my date to an uneventful evening of toasts and office people getting drunk. He picked up his backpack and I walked him to the door. "See you at school?" he asked, as if something otherwise would happen. "Sure," I said. "I hope your brother is in a better mood next time," he said. "Yeah," I said. He turned and walked to his car. As he went back to his Civic in the twilight air, I admired his muscular frame, which tapered down to a tight butt. "I can see what you like about him," said James, standing in the doorway. I nearly knocked him on the floor as I turned around, shoved him inside and closed the door. "What if he hears you?!" I exclaimed. James knew I was gay, but he was the only one. I was embarrassed as hell to tell anyone else. "If he doesn't know already, he's pretty clueless," said James. "What do you mean?" I said indignantly. He laughed and said, "Every time you weren't looking at the book, you were staring at his face or his arms. You didn't even notice when I came downstairs." "You came downstairs?" I said. James just laughed and walked into the living room and flung himself on the couch. As I thought about it, my behavior was pretty obvious. If he noticed I was checking him out, it must not have bothered him because he didn't say anything or beat the crap out of me. Speaking of which, "What was up with you this afternoon," I asked. "What do you mean," he said as I walked in to sit in my recliner. It was well established that the couch was James' to sprawl out on while I could have my way with the recliner. If I took it upon myself to sit on the couch, he would pick me up and throw me off of it. "I mean, I come home with a friend and you attack him," I said. "He didn't even look like a burglar." "I was stressed out and a stranger who looks like he could bench 350 is standing in the kitchen," he said. "What was I supposed to think?" "Hard time at work again?" I asked "I guess you could say that," he said. "We have a new intern who just got out of some graphic arts school and thinks he knows more than the rest of us combined. And then, of course, the fact came up that I only have a GED and the kid told me I wasn't qualified to be department manager. Luckily, my boss walks in at that same time and tears the kid a new one. He told the kid how he doesn't have a degree and yet he still managed to build his company from nothing and said I am department manager because I'm damn good at what I do." "Same old story?" I said. "Same old story," he said. "I'll be surprised if the kid comes back tomorrow. But they rarely do." He turned on the TV to watch CSI, but I wasn't interested. I was too bust thinking about my afternoon with Brian. I found it amazing how someone I could have described as my nemesis had become the closest thing I have to a friend, and how that person is the guy I have the biggest crush on. A smile stretched across my face as I reveled in the fact that I would have more frequent and legitimate excuses to check him out. "Wasn't that Brian Freeman?" asked James. It must have been a commercial break because he never speaks during CSI, unless it's to tell the criminals how stupid they are. "Yeah, it was," I said. "Isn't he the one giving you crap all the time?" he asked. "He used to," I said. "But he seems to have changed his mind since I helped him." "Really?" James said with a mischievous smile. "I think he likes you." "Shut-up!" I said. He knew I had a crush on Brian and always teased me about it. "Kyle has a boyfriend! Kyle has a boyfriend!" he chanted, mockingly. "Shup-up!" I demanded and picked up an empty coke can off the floor and threw it at his head. He caught it and crushed it in what seemed an instant. 'Damn, friking brother taking Tae-Kwan-Do,' I though to myself. He would have kept taunting me, but Grissom came back on the TV and he was silent. I leaned back in my recliner and must have fallen asleep because I don't remember anything else from that night, just a warm, hopeful feeling thinking about being able to hang out with Brian again.