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 Message: Oops - Because of the added chapter I forgot chapter 8 is really chapter 9 in my word doc.
Okay another chapter. I'm also posting this on gayauthors.org site which I really like - much more interactive and it has some of my favorite writers there - you should check it out.
My schedule for the next few months consisted of a Tuesday night fencing show with Alex, Dieter, or Sven and school from 9-3 five days a week. My French was pretty good and I was speaking French most of the time. I spent almost every afternoon with Ian discussing his story ideas, reading his work, or just goofing off. I always fell asleep on his bed, woke up about nine in the evening, and spent time with Dieter, Alex or Sven. I knew I was in love with Dieter but I pretty well kept that to myself. Sven knew, I'm sure, because we'd talk. I never told him how much I loved him...what would be the use – it would just upset him and remind him of Johan. I knew and understood Johan. I think I would have done the same. Well, there was always Dieter. Any way my schedule would end with me going to my humble room and painting all night. The problem was I had so many paintings in my room that there was no place to sleep - except Ian's room.
I loved my friends and I cherished every moment. A few weeks ago Ian complained,
"Yank, I wish you would not sleep in my bed!"
"Wank, you're bed is so much more comfy than mine. Besides, yours has fewer fleas. Yesterday, I was having a hard time sleeping because of your incessant banging on that antiquated thing you call a typewriter that I decided to take a census of your bed's flea population. Did you know you have exactly 43 less fleas inhabiting your bed than are in mine?"
"I don't have any fleas in my bed!"
"Exactly! Just what I said, your bed has fewer fleas than mine. When I try to sleep in my bed it feels like there are forty-three tiny little vampires awaiting for me to drift off to sleep so they can suck my blood. If that happens too often I would become a flea vampire called Fleacula! So, my little Wank, would you prefer me to run around here terrifying the locals and yourself by saying 'I am Count Fleacula. I want to drink your blood?'" I smiled.
"Why don't you kill them with flea spray?"
"They are flea spray proof. You have to drive little bitty wooden stakes through their hearts to kill them. Do you have any idea how hard that is? And it makes them really angry...I think they are multiplying - they have some evil plot. I know because the last time you made me sleep in my own bed two of them hopped in my ear and started talking about it. I'm almost as good at understanding Flealanise as I am understanding French. So, I have to sleep in your bed. I'm terrified of what might happen if I fall asleep in my own bed!"
"You're hopeless! Just don't pee in the bed or have a wet dream!"
"No problem, at least the peeing in the bed part - I stopped that when I was 17 or 18. Oh, wait I'm fifteen, well, forget that one. As far as the other, stop telling me your fantasies about Madame Rochelle and I'll stop having wet dreams."
"Who's Madame Rochelle?" asked Ian.
"Oh sorry! I forgot - you're gay...well then make that Mr. Rochelle - if you'd stop telling me your fantasies about..." A dictionary narrowly missed my head.
"I give up!" he said.
"Good. Because I'm tired and I need my sleep." Within minutes I was asleep.
My friendship with Dawson got off to a bad start but my love for Alex and hopefully his love for me got me to realize what a different person Dawson is. In one word Dawson inspires me. How, I don't know totally. He's always full of praise about the stuff I write and that praise comes from his heart. He's always telling the customers they should really appreciate me because someday I'll be a rich and famous writer. I've almost enough courage to send off one of my stories to be published.
When I've written something that's not really that good he gets me to rewrite it, but he does it in a manner that doesn't make me feel like an idiot. Somehow he gets me to look at it and rewrite it. If I ever do become a famous writer it will be him that got me there.
I jerked off once because he was sleeping on my bed with just his boxers on and he got a hardon and it really turned me on. Just seeing it sticking out of his boxers drove me crazy and I jerked fantasizing that I was giving him a blowjob. It only happened that one time because after that he ran around in these jean cutoffs.
I think he knows that I'm gay because he kids me about it a lot like he did today with this fleacula story of why he likes to sleep in my bed. I like to think it's because he really likes my company not because there are fleas in his bed.
Alex is still my true love - I wish I could tell him but I'm afraid to lose him as a friend. He gets really offended when the gays at the studio hit on him...sometimes I wonder if he is gay. I'm sure Dieter is - at least I know he has the hots for Dawson. It is so obvious to me. Alex and I actually talked about it.
Alex is funny. If you ask him a question he always asks you one back. For example, the other day I asked, "Is Dieter gay?"
"Does it matter? Well, I guess it does because you are so homophobic..."
"I am not homophobic! And that `does it matter' sounds like Dawson."
"Well, yes I guess it does sound like Dawson. Because I asked Sven if he thought Dawson was gay because those two are like brothers and he asked me the same question. His answer was he didn't care if Dawson was straight, queer, or bi because his friendship was so deep and so true that it didn't and doesn't matter. So, Dieter is my cousin and our friendship is such as it doesn't matter to me. So you'll have to ask him."
I wanted to ask Alex if he is gay but I knew I would get the same answer. And yes it did matter to me because I could be open with him. I think the reason I didn't was I was afraid he'd say no, he wasn't, and I'd rather not know than to know that there would never be hope that we could actually become a couple.Dawson
My French was pretty good now. In fact that was all I spoke most of the time. The last two weeks I've spent most of my free time with Dieter because he had no work. We had talked about going to the South of France - Nice or Marseilles, but I was still at school for two weeks – well, that was my excuse. I was scared was the real reason; sleeping over at his apartment on his couch was the most I could risk and even that was difficult.
Why? Because as much as I love him and as much as I know he loves me I can't bring myself to be totally honest with him yet about me because I am a wimp. It's funny. I know it wouldn't bother me to tell Sven. Sven knows more about me than anyone else.
I could never just have sex with Dieter as much as my young teenage body might demand it. For me it had to be a total commitment of body, mind and soul and a commitment for life. Thanks G-dad for installing your principles of morality and honor and commitment in me.
We were at the café and Dieter had excused himself to go to the restroom.
Ian came over to take our order.
He got everybody's order except Dieter's.
"Dieter went to the restroom, he'll be back in a sec."
"What! He didn't take you with him?" Ian replied.
I thought, trying to be funny or something so I answered in jest, "Why? You jealous?"
"Don't you ever call me a poofta you little faggot!"
What happened next I didn't expect. Ian's fist connected with my face and the impact landed me off of my seat and on my back.
I staggered to my feet. I looked at Ian. I couldn't believe he'd just hit me.
"Dawson, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I did," he said as the tears ran down his cheeks.
"Fuck you!" I said as I turned and walked away grabbing my art pad off the table where Sven and Alex sat with stunned looks upon their faces.
I was nearly across the square when Ian caught up to me. "Dawson, I'm sorry...please, I need your help...I-I need someone to talk to. Please..."
I turned and he saw the tears running down my cheeks, "I-I can't. Not, not now...later. When-when your work...when your work's done." I couldn't stop my sobbing, so I turned and ran to my room and fell onto my bed. All the memories, all the hate, all the lost friends, all the fights and the pain returned. I cried until I felt a gently kiss upon my cheek.
It was Dieter. He smiled at me. I touched my cheek where he had kissed me.
"Does it matter?" he asked.
"No." I whispered as I wiped the tears from my cheeks.
"Me neither. I love you, Dawson. When I heard that there was a young boy artist who was incredibly talented and Alex added incredibly cute - I had to meet you and your were so beautiful sleeping on your bed - I knew then that I wanted to get to know you." Dieter ran his fingers through my hair.
"Everyday since the second we met, when you spent the day with me has been the best days of my life, because I spent them with you. Getting to know you and you getting to know me..." he said, and I blushed and smiled.
"What?" I asked.
"Remember when you rested your chin on my shoulder? I almost kissed you."
"Well, you missed your chance, because I would have kissed you back but now you'll just have to wait for a really romantic moment." I pursed my lips at him and then giggled at the look on his face.
"You little tease!" he said as he jumped on top of me and started tickling me.
"Stop! Please I'll pee in my pants!"
He stopped. And looked at me. "You know your eyes are so beautiful, so blue..." I said as he kissed my lips. The kiss grew more and more passionate. I wanted it to go on forever. I really did. But I was afraid. I broke the kiss. He kept on trying to resume the kiss. "NO!" I shouted and pushed him off me and he fell on the floor. He had such a hurt look on his face. "I'm sorry. I'm just not ready for this!!" I started crying again. "Please just leave, leave me alone!" I watched as the tears welled up in his eyes and spill over on to his cheeks.
"Please, Dawson, please let me stay."
"I-I don't want to hurt you, but please go..."
He got up and went to the door the turned and with tears flowing down his cheeks he said, "I love you."
I just nodded and he left. I got up locked the door, collapsed on my bed and fell asleep. Ian may have come and left but no one woke me.
I woke at sunrise and decided to get something to eat. I bought a demi-baguette and then went to Cinq Billiards for some hot milk. I sat quietly and I thought about Dieter mostly. I thought about Ian, Alex, and Sven. I knew Dieter was gay, but I didn't know how I felt about him. Well - that's not true, I knew how I felt about him. I loved him. But I figured once he really knew me more then he would stop liking me and that would hurt. Was it worth the risk? What about Ian? I knew Ian was jealous, but was he jealous of Dieter? I needed sometime away from Paris, away from Dieter - away from all of them even Sven who I knew I loved more than anybody. I decided to go to Nice.
"May I join you?" asked Alex.
"Are you gay?" I asked.
"Does it matter?" he asked with a smile.
"Yes. If you are here to tell me that you are madly in love with me then please go sit somewhere else."
Alex laughed. "No, I'm not here to tell you that. I do love you Dawson but only as a friend. You're a remarkable person."
I forced a smile, and then returned to staring into my hot milk, which wasn't that hot anymore.
"But I am here to ask you to forgive Dieter and to give him another chance to at least be a friend."
"He is a friend and what's to forgive? Well, we kissed but I wasn't really ready for that. Why are you asking this?"
Alex smiled, "You're the first boy he's ever kissed. He was so ashamed and in tears last night. I am gay, but the person I love hates gays as you found out."
"Yes, but please don't tell him."
"In my room. Last night he was upset, thinking that you would hate him. I was waiting tables so I couldn't take him home. I made him stay at the café until he calmed down, then I told him to go sleep in my bed."
"Why were you waiting tables?"
"Because after you left Ian was in tears and I sent him to his room. I've never seen him so upset. I don't know what got into to him. I know he is devastated by what he did to you. I tried to get him to talk, but he wouldn't."
"Don't worry about Ian and don't ever stop loving him. He needs a friend like you who really cares. And when you see him tell him – tell him I love him even though he forced me to sleep in my own bed last night. Count Fleacula has gone south for a few days." Alex gave me a puzzled look. "He'll understand. When you all are there have him tell you the story then read this. I love you Alex. Later, dude."
"Yeah, later." He took the letter and put it in his pocket.
I went to my room and packed a few things. I wrote a note to the guys (made sure everything in my room was setup and ready).
I knocked gently on the door and heard Dieter say, "Yah!"
I opened the door and walked in. When he saw who it was that entered his eyes filled with water and I could see that he was hurting.
"Dieter," I could feel my own tears begin, "I'm so sorry. I-I didn't want to hurt you...can we talk?" He nodded and scooted over in the bed and I lay down next to him but facing away from him. He wrapped his arm around me and cuddled close to me. It felt so good but after a few minutes I said, "Can we switch around, I need to see you, but not your face."
"Am I that ugly?" he tried to joke.
"No, you are so beautiful that I would get lost in what I need to talk to you about."
We switched positions. I held him in my arms and cuddled very close with my nose nestled against the side of his neck. I kissed his neck gently and lay there quietly. "I could die like this with you in my arms. It would make all the pain in my life seem so insignificant and death would become a beautiful thing. There are some things I have to sort out with myself. I have to get away for a few days."
"No!" he cried.
"Dieter, please hear me out..."
"Go, on I'm sorry..."
"First of all, I love you. But right now I can't make a commitment to you and, as much as my body is screaming out to make love to you I cannot. No I will not. I am a very screwed up person right now and I have to get away for a few days out of Paris - alone. I speak French pretty well now so I should be okay."
I knew he was crying. "Dieter, please don't cry, please. It's only for a few days at the most. I am so fucked up - there's a lot of stuff in my life I have to deal with - there's a lot of stuff, bad stuff you need to know about me, stuff that will probably give you second thoughts."
"No. Never. Tell me now. Please don't go alone."
"I-I can't. I love you, Dieter. I promise I will return and I will tell you everything. Then you can decide. Please, I need this time for myself."
"Do you promise you'll come back?"
"Yes. I promise."
"Will you call me every day?"
"Yes. Where and what time?"
"The café at six."
"Okay," I agreed. I lay there with my arms wrapped around him. I found it hard to let go.
"You better leave now," he said softly.
I kissed him on the back of his neck, then left.
As I exited the hotel I saw Sven. I think he must have a sixth sense about me. He always turns up when I really need to see him.
"Hey, you're leaving?" he asked.
"Ya. I need to get away for a few days. Lots to sort out."
"Okay. Can I go with you? Promise to behave myself."
"If there was one person I would want to go with me it would be you, but I need to go to Nice alone."
He nodded. "You know I would do anything for you."
I smiled, "Yeah, bro I do. I need you to stay here and take care of the guys. Especially Ian. I know he loves Alex and he's afraid of losing him because he's gay."
"Yeah, it's always been so obvious to me that they love each other. Alex feels the same about Ian you know."
"Yeah, would you tell Ian that I love him and I have some of my own shit to sort out? And in case Alex forgets, tell Ian to tell you guys the story of Count Fleacula. I told Dieter I would be calling the café at six in the evening." I stopped. I had to hug Sven. "I love you so much, Sven. Why can't you be gay?" I thought to myself then said, "I know I am going to miss you – you guys."
When I got to the Metro I gave Sven a hug again and forced a smile. He forced a smile too.
He gave my body a little shove and said, "Go. Go sort yourself out. If you need me I'm here and I will do anything and go anywhere for you."
I nodded, turned and went down the steps to the station. Part way down I stopped, turned to look back. Tears ran down his cheeks, but he quickly wiped them away and forced a smile. I mouthed, "I love you". I felt like saying, "Come with me" but I didn't, instead I continued on down to the platform.I caught a night train to Nice (pronounced niece). Why did I choose Nice, I don't know, maybe because the name was nice. But as I found out it was a life changing event and a miracle.
So do you like this story? Let me know - Sam.