Author: Zeitgeist.
Email: zeitgeister@mailcity.com
Website: The Cosmos

He was reasonably popular with both guys and girls at school. The guys thought he was tough and smart. He worked hard to maintain that image. While on the other side, the girls thought him a real sweety. He'd had some experience with girls, though not nearly as much as he lets people believe. To be honest he was just a little scared at the prospects of having sex. He knew he wanted to, so bad it seemed sometimes. Yet when he was with a girl, he found himself coating on the charm instead of going for the prize.

It was a Saturday, and as was customary Dave made his way to his best friend Paul's house. No one really knew how or why these two became best friends. For all intensive purposes, they were an odd couple. Paul was smart, Dave was more physically oriented. Their music tastes were worlds apart. Basically, Dave's tastes were geared towards attracting girls. He liked dance music, dressed in all the right brand names, and went to all the parties. He couldn't understand Paul sometimes. Paul was popular, but this was probably due to his connections with Dave. It honestly seemed like Paul wasn't interested in popularity and girls. What else was highschool about, Dave thought.

Despite their differences they were always able to have a good time, enjoying the few things they did have in common. The thing about Paul that Dave liked the best was his ability to have fun. He could basically enjoy anything it seemed so long as he was with his friends.

"Hey man," said Dave to Paul as he let himself in through the front door. To other people this may seem arrogant, but they had been friends for so long that they were comfortable in each others homes as if they were their own.

"Hey Dave... How's it going dude?" asked Paul from his bedroom door as he made his way into the lounge room which the front door led into. As he walked, Paul was slipping into a shirt. Dave couldn't help but notice a tight abdomen. It wasn't a six-pack yet, but was the clear beginnings of one. He wondered where or how Paul managed to achieve that. It was only a quick glance, and he made sure that by the time Paul poked his head through the top of the shirt, he was looking more or less towards his face.

"Ummmm... Not bad I guess..." said Dave. As he said this his cheeks flushed red, as he realised the connotations of his words. Yet after a moments pause he realised Paul took it in the way he wanted him to.

Dave was uncertain of what to say next. He didn't know what they should do. Should they go to the local park and shoot hoops like they so often do, or should they do something around the house. Dave sure hoped not. It's not that he didn't like Paul's house or his family. It's just that he hates sitting still. Why sit inside, when there's a perfect day outside?

Besides, there's no chance of seeing any girls in here. Shooting hoops is the perfect thing to be doing to find girls on a Saturday. They stroll past doing whatever, they look over, and notice you in your tank-top strutting your stuff on the court. Dave knew he had a good body. You don't work out every day for three years and yield no results. Therefore, it made perfect sense to him to have it on display as often as possible.

"So ya wanna go shoot some hoops?" Paul's question at once startled Dave and made him happy. Paul rarely suggested they shoot some hoops, but now that he had, Dave was not going to look the gift-horse in the mouth.

"Yeah... Of course! Ya know, I was about to ask you that too..." said Dave at length. Knowing where Paul kept everything, he immediately went into his room to get the basketball.

"I had a funny feeling you might," said Paul with a cheeky smirk across his face.

Dave openly laughed once he realised what Paul was referring to. It was plainly obvious what he wanted to do, based on the clothes he'd chosen to wear for the day. Tank top, shorts, sneakers. The basic garb for hanging out at the basketball courts.

The two friends left the house and made their way up to the park with the basketball. As they walked they would bounce the ball between them. Occasionally Dave would do some moves, showing off his skills. Paul would just watch on, continuing to walk. At one point Dave tried to bounce it through his legs and it bounced up and hit him in the balls. Paul was immediately hunched over, laughing his guts out. Dave naturally enough, was in the foetal position with his hands giving some much needed care. As he finally stood up, Dave looked towards his friend who was still finding it hard to restrain the last of his giggles.

"Shut up!" said Dave as he gave Paul a hard push off the road. This prompted even more giggles from Paul. Wishing not to tempt fate, Dave now carried the ball towards the courts.

Once the courts were in view, Dave was surprised to see them totally deserted. Usually there'd be some of the other guys from school, or if they were lucky a few of the girls would be there to see them play. But today, it would be just Dave and Paul at least for a while.

Once there, Paul shucked off his jumper and left it lying on the ground. Dave couldn't help but catch another glimpse of him when his shirt rose up with his jumper. He shook himself away and as Paul stood up again, he suggested a game of half-court. Paul agreed. Dave had always been far better than Paul at this, but lately Paul had come quite good and was actually becoming a rival. Dave guessed it was because his dad had given him the ball last Christmas, and living so close to the courts gave him ample opportunity to practice. It didn't matter though. Dave knew he still had the edge on Paul.

Dave started with the ball. He came in slowly, attempted a long shot, and scored. This earned a look of astonishment from Paul which was returned by a giggle from Dave, as if to say `what, you didn't think I'd make it?'.

Paul, now with the ball came in and the game continued like this. Paul would score, Dave would miss. Dave would score, et cetera et cetera. They played until they both lost their breath and were all sweaty. At some point they'd lost track of the scoring. Well Dave actually knew he was down to Paul, but was not about to admit it to him. He always found it hard to admit defeat in sports to Paul. Because Paul was superior in the class, it was extremely hard to see him excelling on the sports field too.

They both ambled over to the brick wall that lined one side of the court. "Man, you've really improved," said Dave at length. He felt that he could say this without admitting defeat and possibly save some sort of self-dignity.

"Yeah, thanks man... That's about the first time I've won I think!" Paul had such a huge smile on his face as he watched Dave for a reaction. Dave made none. At first he was cursing himself that Paul had actually kept score too. But once he realised it didn't matter and it was his best friend, he shared the smile. Pretty soon they were laughing about it, and Dave gave Paul a friendly push knocking him over onto his side.

On their way back to Paul's house, Dave made the comment that he kinda wished he'd seen Tracey or one of the other girls there. This led to the age-old conversation about girls and who was hot and who was not. It was probably Dave's favourite conversation. Actually in the last year or two, it had been his only real topic of conversation. Everyone knew he was all over Tracey, but he didn't care.

His conversations with guys were always about how she had huge tits and how hot she is. But it was the other things that attracted him far more. Things that he could never tell another guy. For instance if you were in a changing room and suddenly started talking about how sweet a certain girl was, and that she always knew just what to say, you'd most likely receive a wedgie for your troubles. Yet that was exactly how he felt.

With every other girl, he just felt a feeling of lust for their beautiful bodies. Yet with Tracey, there was something so much more. Something worth waiting for. Like if she told him `no' from now until three years from now, but yet continued to talk with him and treat him like she does, that would be okay with him. He was whipped. He knew it. But the important thing was, the other guys didn't.

After a few minutes, Dave noticed the conversation was getting extremely one sided. He was just in the middle of describing his last encounter with Sarah, most of which was fabricated truth, when he looked over and noticed Paul was off in his own thoughts.

"Are you okay man?" asked Dave as they arrived at Paul's driveway.

"Yeah... I'm okay. Why?" This immediately confused Dave. If he was okay, why wouldn't he want to have this conversation. It was all Dave would think about sometimes.

"Well you just seem far off... That's all," said Dave. He wondered exactly what Paul was hiding from him. He knew it had to be something. Paul was just acting so strange on the way back.

Paul simply let out a sigh. Clearly he didn't really want to talk about it. There was something on his mind. Dave could see that as plain as day. What could it possibly be? It seemed that once the topic of girls came up he went all weird. Did he hate Tracey for some reason? Dave doubted that because whenever he'd seen them together they'd always been able to talk.

"Come on man," Dave was trying to get whatever he was upset about into the open. "You know you can talk to me about anything..."

Again Paul just let out a sigh as he headed through his front door and toward his bedroom. He went straight to his drawer with Dave not far behind. He got two shirts out, one for him and one for Dave. Dave thanked him as they both changed shirts. This time Dave shook the urge to look from his mind.

As they finished getting changed and Dave was about to head out of the bedroom, Paul spoke. "Hey we're good friends, right?"

Dave turned around to find Paul looking up from his bed. He looked so strange just sitting there on his bed. Almost vulnerable. Like he really needed a huge hug or something. David was actually tempted to give him one. "The best man..." he replied instead.

This brought a smile to Paul's face as he just sat there contemplating what he was going to say next. It was obvious to Dave that something pretty important was on his mind. Dave just returned to smile, to show him that whatever it was, he could tell him.

Spying the ball still on the floor, Dave picked it up to put it back in the wardrobe where Paul always keeps it. Now every other time, Dave had always just placed the ball in the wardrobe. As had Paul. However this time, Dave simply tossed the ball through the open doors in an attempt to get the ball in the hole at the back where Paul always kept it.

He threw it slightly too hard. It hit the back of the wardrobe, causing it to shake. The ball landed securely in it's little hole at the back. But from above a loose shelf lost one of it's mounts as it turned slightly on its edge causing several things to come crashing down out of the wardrobe from above. There was so much junk just laying there on the floor.

"Oh shit man... I'm heaps sorry dude," said Dave. In an attempt to apologise he moved over to try and fix up the shelf and hopefully clean up the mess.

"Ah no... It's okay Dave..." replied Paul in a kind of nervous state. He grabbed Dave's arm, apparently not wanting him to help fix up the mess he'd just caused. "It's cool... Arrr... Can...Can we just go and do something else? I'll clean it up later.."

"Are you sure?" Dave was extremely curious about Paul's sudden urgency to get out of the room. "I mean, I feel like I should at least help ya sort this mess out." Dave was being sincere, he honestly wanted to help.

"I...I know," started Paul. Dave wondered what exactly was wrong. Paul looked like he was on the verge of tears. It was only a shelf. Why wouldn't he let him help him? "But it's okay... Really!"

"Man you have so much shit..." remarked Dave as he looked down at the pile of sports mags, and various paraphernalia. As he looked, something caught his eye, which made him stay just a moment longer, even as Paul was tugging on his arm. It was only the corner of a mag, hidden under a copy of Inside Sport. But he could distinctly see naked flesh.

"You holding out on me Paul?" Dave giggled as he bent down to retrieve what he knew was a porno from under this mess.

As he bent down, the grip on his arm grew tighter as Paul tried to pull him away. Dave was too strong for him. Like a dog with a smell on his nose, his strength increased, allowing him to get to the mag. His hand gripped it as he pulled it out from the mess to examine it. On first glance he knew something was wrong. He looked all over the cover to see not women, but men.

His mind was spinning with thoughts he didn't want to think. Though the mag disgusted him, he strangely wanted to peer inside. But instead he simply dropped it back into the pile. For the first time ever he was completely lost for words.

Dave became suddenly aware that Paul was no longer pulling on his arm. He spun around to find Paul just sitting on his bed, starring off into space. Dave didn't know exactly what to say. Paul was a fag? How could he not have known? How could he have become friends with a fag? Does this mean he's a fag? Then he thought about all the people at school. He and Paul spent so much time together, if they found out Paul was gay, they'd naturally assume he was too.

"So... You like... Like this stuff?" It was a stupid question. Of course he liked it. He'd bought the mag. But it was the only thing that Dave could think of to say. In fact it was a wonder it made as much sense as it did. When you have so many thoughts in your mind, it gets extremely hard to remember how to speak.

Paul just sat there in silence. He was kinda shaking on the bed. Dave realised he was on the verge of tears, but at the moment he could care less. He needed some answers and that's all that mattered.

"So... Are you like... Gay?" Dave just looked down at Paul as he asked this question. As the silence drew out, he knew what the answer would be.

"I was gonna tell ya Dave..." Paul began through a weak voice. "That's what I was trying to do just before..." His voice trailed off into nothing.

Dave became aware that he was supposed to make a reaction. But even he didn't know how he felt. How could he be one of them? But then he remembered Paul was his friend. He couldn't hate a friend. Then he remembered all the people at school and how popular he was. Dave just felt like he was being pulled in several different directions all at once. He desperately wanted to hate Paul. He knew he should hate him. Being gay is just wrong. But strangely he found he didn't. Well at least not for being gay.

At the moment he just hated Paul for putting him in this situation. It was so selfish of him! Paul just up and comes out to him, and now he has to deal with the shit as if he'd come out as well. He didn't want to do that. These thoughts continued to boil through the deathly silence of the room. He couldn't see any way out. But at the moment he knew he couldn't stay in this room any longer.

"You make me sick," spat Dave with scorn before marching out of the room.

As he fled the house he could hear the soft wails of Paul's crying. Though, the sounds were like a pig being gutted in his ears. So painful. Yet in his determined mind, he chose to ignore them. He marched on, leaving the problem in Paul's hands. It was his choice, and it's his problem, thought Dave.

Dave woke up from a dream. Perhaps it was a nightmare, though not entirely without enjoyment. I'm not gay, he thought as he reached for his clock radio to find the time. 5:15am. His sheets were soaked with cum and sweat. His head was rushing with wild thoughts. It was probably just because I saw that magazine yesterday, he reasoned to himself. It's never happened before, and it's not likely to happen again, so lets just get back to sleep.

But sleep would not come so easily this time. His dream had deeply disturbed Dave. As much as he tried to convince himself otherwise, there was still that voice in the back of his mind which said repeatedly `you're gay', over and over and over again. But still, maybe it was his subconscious just trying to play tricks on him. To tell him the things he least wants to hear. That kind of thing always happens... Like the voice that says `you will miss it' just as you're about to swing for a hit in cricket, or take a catch in rugby.

No, he was definitely not gay! He found all those girls at school hot! He always thought of them as he jacked off. Yet he still couldn't convince himself.

With the rest of the morning as he lay awake in bed, he thought of what he would do about this situation. He knew it would be only a matter of time till someone else found out, and then it would be all over the school that Dave Chambers is friends with a queer. Or worse yet, they may even suspect him. Dave could not shake these thoughts from his head. All previous acts of friendship between the two seemed to sink back in his mind. Not once did he recall the great things they'd done together. All the laughs and fun they'd had.

He played Rugby League that morning. The game was a blur for Dave. He was replaced pretty early in the second half, and didn't see the field again that day. His mind just wasn't on the game.

After the team had narrowly won, and finished in the change rooms, Dave and his good friend Phil met afterwards to walk home as they always do when they have a home game. This time, Dave was finished early and waited outside for him. Phil walked up as he normally does, but in Dave's obscured state, he was startled by his presence.

"You okay today, man? You were playing like shit!" said Phil as they made eye contact for the first time. By the giggle, Dave knew he meant it as a joke, but decided not to play along.

Dave made a sigh, as he realised that now was the time when he had to start his plan. He didn't want to see Paul suffer. But he was not going to let his popularity decline either. It was just a survival thing he reasoned. He knew Phil would be the perfect one to tell. He was the schools courier pigeon. If he got wind of any information, the whole school would know it by the end of the day. Also, this way, he'd avoid most of the dirty work. He could at least reason to himself that it wasn't him that did most of the damage.

"Yeah... I just found out my best friend's a fucking fag!!!" said Dave as he looked away, still half expecting to be called a fag also.

"What??? Paul? No way," said Phil in utter disbelief.

"Yeah... I found a male porno in his bedroom! I couldn't fucking believe it!!! I mean..." Dave was desperately trying to come out with something to convince Phil that he was totally straight. "I just can't believe my own friend would be a fucking faggot!!!"

"Shit," was all Phil could say in return. He was obviously lost in his own thoughts, as Dave searched him for any sign of reaction.

"So I dropped the cock-sucker like the sack of shit that he is..." Dave continued, not sure if he was saying too much, or not enough.

"Yeah... Fuck yeah!!! If I ever found out my best friend was one of them, I'd probably kick the absolute shit out of the pussy!!!" This eased Dave's mind immensely. At least he didn't seem to suspect him of being gay too. "Oh man... If he comes looking for us tomorrow at school, he is gonna get such a fucking surprise."

"Yeah..." For the first time Dave felt bad about the whole thing he'd started. He suddenly realised he wouldn't ever be able to speak and hang out with Paul again. Thinking back, he remembered at last all the good times they'd had together. Times that would never happen again. He couldn't help but feel some loss. Yet he was painfully aware that now was not the best time to show these feelings. So he repressed them in his mind.

As they continued to walk, Dave basically recounted the whole story to Phil. Even as he spoke the words, he knew he was signing Paul's school social life away. He felt guilty, but now that he'd started, he pushed himself to get it all out there, so that his part in this morbid plan would be over. He could then leave it up to others.

As they rounded the corner, Dave spotted him immediately. He was walking in the same direction they were, with his back to them. Dave hoped to God that Phil would not recognise him, so they could avoid an encounter. He knew that Paul was most likely walking home from the shops and would turn off at the next left street.

"Hey isn't that the cock-sucker now?" asked Phil. Dave's heart sank as he pretended to only just notice. He faked an astonished reply, which in turn prompted Phil to yell out Paul's name.

Once he'd turned around and recognised who it was Paul just stood there. Dave hoped he'd turn tail and run, but Paul had never been one to run and hide. Phil didn't quicken his pace. And so the two of them approached him with the kind of walk you might have expected two gunslingers to approach each-other in the old west. The atmosphere had changed, and all three knew that a fight was about to happen.

"Look at the arse-biter will ya?" Phil began, not even giving Paul the slightest hope of friendliness.

Paul's face immediately flushed an expression that was manifest of a thousand different emotions and thoughts. Dave's emptiness consumed him, as the full effect of what he'd done hit him in one almighty rush. He dared look in Paul's eyes for the briefest of moments, and was blown away by what he saw.

He saw confusion. He saw anger. He saw hate. Above all he saw sorrow. In a strange way there was some understanding there too. Like somehow he felt that Paul knew why he'd done it. Yet it was nothing that a simple shrug of the shoulders and a shy grin could fix. Like a true Brutus, he had betrayed him in the most under-handed of ways.

The encounter was stupid and childish. Phil started to push Paul around, calling him all manner of profanities. As Paul began to push back, Dave came to his team-mate's side. Pretty soon it was just between Dave and Paul. Once Dave struck the first punch it was all on. Phil was about to come in, but Dave stopped him. He didn't believe in gang bashes. At the moment he was so riled up by Paul. He just needed to knock some sense into him. But he still didn't want to seriously injure the guy.

After a few punches, Dave was down on the ground. Paul didn't waste any time in running off. Dave couldn't believe he was outclassed like that. By a fag, what's more? That hurt his ego more than anything. He figured he could at least claim that Paul had run off. But then, Paul probably figured they'd bash the crap out of him afterward.

They didn't bother pursuing him. Instead they made their way home. Once Dave was safely inside, he locked himself in his room, and immediately broke down into tears. He intentionally kept them as silent as possible so as not to arouse the attention of his mother.

His emotions took total control as he realised the hurt he'd caused Paul. He wasn't worried by the fight in itself, but the reason why they'd fought. It was bullshit! How could he have done this to his friend? He couldn't understand the gay thing at all. But why couldn't he just let him be? Looking into Paul's eyes that afternoon had really changed him. Just a brief second. But the one second was enough. To see genuine sorrow and fear in a person's eyes is the worst sight a person can ever see. Once you see it, you'll never be the same again. It's enough to make you regret every act you've ever made in your entire life.

Dave thought he was scared. But he didn't know fear until he looked into Paul's eyes that afternoon. Yet now, helpless, all he could do was cry. Cry for Paul. Cry for himself. Cry at his own helplessness. What could he do? His hands were tied. He'd just have to go to school tomorrow and see what Phil and the others would do.