Hey, White-Boy!

How Alex Met Jack

A story (C) 2002 by ZUSTARA ORUR. Contact address: zustara@hotmail.com. Not intended for redistribution, commercial use prohibited!

This is my first attempt at writing something like this, and I would very much appreciate any kind of feedback (to above address), hearing from you would mean a lot to me. Thanks.

It features an unlikely cast perhaps, but who cares? It's just a story, and is meant to be taken exactly like that. Also, English is a second language to me, so please excuse any goofs present herein regarding grammar, spelling. I try to do the best I can!

Legal mumbo jumbo BS: this story features explicit descriptions of sexual acts between consenting male minors, and some crude language. All of the story (and its locations) are all completely made up, ie: none of these events ever took place, and no cute, furry little animals were harmed in any way in the process of writing this story either. If this sort of thing bothers you; you are under-age (and anybody cares about it); reading this story happens to be illegal wherever you may be right now; etc, please STOP READING. I won't get in trouble, but you might, who knows. If all is hunky-dory, feel free to continue, if that is your wish.

Special note: please be patient when reading, this story builds itself slowly, and takes intermissions between periods of action at times. I don't rush things! {VBG} It is a story with sex in it, not the other way around...


"How about some food? I'm starving!", Jack commented. Yeah, that did sound swell, and I told him that. The kid scuttled out of my grasp and began jumping towards the door on one leg dressed in nothing but his own skin and that annoying cast which had chafed my feet as we had been lying down together.

"Hey, is that such a great idea?" I was thinking he might fall down, but his parents would probably be on their way back now too, and I wasn't sure if they'd like to walk in and see their son buck naked and me in nothing but underwear. Things like that tend to upset people, if y'all know what I mean.

"Well, if you want to do anything about it, you'd better catch me then don'cha, white-boy!" He began hopping faster and was already through the door and into the hallway outside before I had managed to kick off the bedspread and get out of the couch. I ran after him as he giggled madly, somehow managing to reach the stairs before me. It was an utterly ridiculous sight. Anyway, two legs beat one leg any day of the week and I grabbed him and hoisted him into the air just as he was about to land on the third step down. "Nnnnooooo! Nononononono!", he yelled and wiggled around to get out of my grip, still unable to stop laughing. Dammit! It was so fucking sexy, feeling him fight against me like that I almost got horny all over again! I quenched the flames real quick however, about the last thing I would need was Jack's parents seeing me wrestle their naked son with a hard-on poking through my underpants.

"Okay, okay", I said in a stern voice. "You've had your fun now, please calm down before you make me have an accident!"

He knew exactly what I was talking about and grinned. "You're scared anybody's going to see me are you?" I shook my head firmly. "Yes you are!", he teased. "Well, you'll just have to risk it. Now get me downstairs." I would have walked through fire and ice for that kid, carrying him downstairs was a picnic in comparison. He instructed me to make a turn into the library, where he then directed me to a fancy rococo reading divan covered in equally fancy striped silk fabric. Next to it was a just as fancy rococo table with an elaborate speakerphone placed upon it.

"Mm, I sure am hungry!", I said and eyed the shelves. "Which of these old dusty books would you think tastes best?"

"Behold this marvel of an invention you village idiot", Jack said with a grin, pointing at the phone. "It will fix us dinner inside of half an hour!" He simply laid down on his belly on the divan and reached out with an arm and pressed one of the speed-dial buttons.

A couple beeps went through, then there was a click from the speaker and a voice came forth. "Chao Fah Thai Restaulant, how can I help you?", it said.

"Behold this other marvel of an invention too", Jack whispered. "It's called take-away!" I grinned. Jack turned his attention to the phone. "Yes, I'd like a number twenty-three extra spicy, and a... Hold on a second please." He reached out again and pressed the mute button. "Are you a chicken person or a beef person?"

"Well, ordinarily I'm a beef person, but what's number 23? I can eat whatever you're having."

"It's fried noodles, white cabbage, yellow and red onion, carrot, water chestnut, mushrooms and peas, and chili. Hot!"

I was intrigued. "What, no meat?!"

"Nope. I'm a vegan."

"Get outta here!", I guffawed. "You're kidding, right?"

He shook his head. "Uh-huh. I don't eat anything that breathes in one way or another. But what shall it be? The guy's waiting, you know."

"Okay, okay. I can eat cabbage and noodles and stuff, but I want some meat alright? Get me something with chicken in it then, it looks more like veggies or something. Not too damn spicy either ok?"

Jack grinned and pressed the mute switch again. "Yes, sorry for the delay. I want that 23 I just mentioned, and a number - aaAH!" Jack jerked as I could not resist letting my fingers play with his cute butt as he laid down there on the divan, it simply was too tempting. "Sorry again, just an idiot friend fooling around", Jack growled and swatted at my hand. "One number thirteen as well."

"Yes. One twenty-thlee extla hot and one thilteen", the bemused voice on the other side confirmed.

"Could you please deliver to 1442 Moon Crescent Street please?"

"Yes, will be about twenty minutes half hour. Finish oldeling?"

Jack said that he had, and then hung up.

"Dammit, kid. You keep the entire menu in that pretty skull of yours?"

"Photographic memory you know, you horny bugger." He tapped his finger at a temple to re-inforce the message.

I was kind of impressed, you might say. Of course, I should have understood as much from what I knew from before but it was still strange to have it confirmed to me.

I had barely managed to get my jeans on and Jack into his bathrobe once more before the food arrived. I again carried him, to the front door this time (and as he seemed to take great pleasure from it, I had no mind doing so of course), and on the other side was an Asian guy holding a bag with cartons in it. His shirt proclaimed, "Chao Fah Thai" underneath a big swirling Chinese-style dragon. The guy was maybe a year or two older than me, about my height or a little taller perhaps, at least with shoes on, and quite good-looking if I may say so.

"That'll be twelve bucks even", the guy said in a smooth voice.

Jack extracted his wallet from a deep pocket in the bathrobe and paid him, tipping him an extra five, which made the guy smile brightly.

"Thanks!", the guy said, then looked us both up and down quite a bit closer than one usually expects of a stranger. "Oh man", he told me. "You don't know how lucky you are!" He was still smiling as he turned and started walking back to his little car. I then realized of course why he'd said that. I was holding one protective hand on Jack's exposed neck, the other buried deep in his rich hair... Jack started laughing the second the door closed. I felt silly and utterly embarrassed for a few seconds, my face blushing as red as a tomato.

"Why didn't you stop me?", I complained.

Jack could not stop laughing. "Why? I liked it!", the little devil managed. "He didn't mind either!"

"Dammit, you... You...!", I tried, then joined in his mirth. "Okay, let's eat before this grows cold, okay?"

We gulped down the meal straight out of the cartons, sitting in the dining room of the house. It was made out in a southern colonial style and seemed altogether too elegant to eat takeaway in, but nobody was there to stop us from doing so anyway. I must say it tasted fantastic together with Coke out of the fridge in the kitchen (Jack had a tall glass of OJ, which kind of made me shiver; I thought it a strange combination), I'd never tasted anything like it before. I tried some of Jack's stuff, and it wasn't bad either. It left my mouth on fire though, but nowhere near as bad as what I felt every time I simply looked at him...

Jack's bathrobe was slipping off him, exposing one exquisitely sculptured shoulder and side of his chest. "You're kinda buffed for a child prodigy, you know that?", I told him.

He looked at me for a second like he had no idea where that had come from. Neither had I. "Well, you know how much time I spend studying each day?" I shook my head. "Two hours. Maybe three."

"Get the fuck outta here."

"It's true. What else can I do to fill up a day? I skate around, I ride my bike, I do other stuff... You like the result?" The little imp let the bathrobe drop down to his waist.

I grinned. "Yeah! So, for how long have you played hockey then?", I asked.

He grinned. "You won't believe this I'm sure, but all of five weeks or so."

He was right, I could not believe it. "Five weeks?! That's impossible, you were WAY too good for that."

Jack shrugged absently. "I do fairly well at almost anything I try, I just came to training that day because I wanted to see you again. And you know I skate a lot so that helps too. The rules and play isn't that difficult, really." Yeah right. Not that difficult. "...But it was almost a year and a half or so since I last played any. I kind of get an idea I want to try something, but I never keep at it for very long."

I think I knew why. I was impressed all the same mind you, but I was sure I knew why Jack tried much but did little. His parents, it had to be them. It probably wasn't that they consciously kept him from exploring his own interests, maybe it was more like not actually encouraging him. That could be just as bad.

"And the gymnastics?"

Jack smiled a sad smile. "Yes, that... It's a way for me to deal with... Myself."

Fuck. I love the guy, and I end up hurting him. Goddammit. I just kept my big, stupid mouth shut after that and concentrated on finishing my glass of Coke.

Jack's parents came home just after we'd finished our meal and cleared away the remains. They wished to know if we'd eaten anything, and after hearing that we had, admonished him he should not order Thai takeaway EVERY time they were out late.

"There are lots of alternatives, my son", his mother said. "You'll grow tired of the taste."

Jack seemed amused, sitting a few steps up in the front stairs as he was. "Mom, they eat Thai food every day in Thailand. Do you think they grow tired of it?"

She was kind of stumped by his reply, then smiled that "Mother still knows best, child" smile that moms saved for whenever they knew they had been bested but didn't want to admit defeat. However, she could not keep the act together when Jack continued to look her in the eyes in a challenging manner, and her smile turned into one of affection instead. She patted his head in a friendly manner, then turned to me. "Has he been a good boy while we were gone?" Jack pulled up his left leg, which made the voluminous bathrobe separate at the fold. I desperately hoped his parents wouldn't notice he was naked underneath and kept my eyes well away from him in order to not draw their attention to the fact.

I felt my face redden, knowing what we'd been doing together. "Uh... Yeah." I didn't know what the hell to say. His mom nodded, seemingly unaware of my embarrassment.

"Are you staying for the night?", Jack's father wanted to know. He had taken off his shoes and carefully placed them on a small mat next to the door. "It is getting very dark out, going home could be dangerous on those things, yes?" He pointed at my rollerblades. They had moved them inside when they came home after having discovered them abandoned on the front porch.

I was torn. I had not considered the possibility of sleeping over and was understandably enthusiastic at the possibility. On the other hand, I wasn't sure if I was ready for it mentally either. Jack looked at me with pleading eyes, and I did not want to disappoint him. In the end though, I chickened out.

"Uh... I haven't asked my parents", I started. Jack tugged at me, mouthing 'please stay!', and my emotions were suddenly in uproar. "I think I'd better be going", I added lamely.

Jack's father nodded, then took up a pipe from a pocket and stuck it in his mouth. His wife's hand whipped out and snatched it away. She said something quietly to him in French, which I think meant, 'not indoors!', or some such. He retrieved it again, after apparently promising to go outside to smoke. "If you like, you are welcome some other day. We will be leaving soon as you know", he spoke to me, then left together with his wife. She said they'd be out on the verandah on the back side of the house. I meanwhile was feeling hot and giddy, intoxicated almost. He had basically invited me to move in with Jack, hadn't he?

"So you're going home now?"

I blushed a little. It sounded a little as if he thought I was abandoning him! "Sorry. I just didn't think I'd be here so long... My parents, they kinda like to keep track of me you know."

He nodded, downstruck. "I just wish you'd stay anyway."

Now it was my turn to pat him on the head, more lovingly than his mom even. "Hey... I'll see you again dude. Don't worry, I won't be going anywhere anytime soon." Jack smiled weakly. This really was tearing him up for some reason, I was feeling awful all of a sudden. It shamed me, but I had to make it worse by asking something difficult of him. "Uh, I was wondering if you'd mind a whole lot if I was to see Jennifer tomorrow..." I had been neglecting her really bad. Since Monday we had only exchanged quick glances in school, she happy to see me, but with that sadness on her face at the same time as if I was standing on a ship leaving the docks, bound for the other side of the world, leaving her there.

"It's okay by me", he said plainly. It was difficult to know what he really was thinking, it was if he was withdrawing inside his shell once more and I felt horribly guilty again because of it, just as bad as over Jennifer. Suddenly Jack's face softened. "No, really! It is okay. You can see her."

"Are you sure?" I was almost on the verge of tears.

Jack's face showed me everything. "Yes, Alex. I'll be fine. She was yours before you met me after all... If it makes you happy, it will make me happy."

I forced myself to calm down as I slowly smoothed away the hair from his forehead, loving how his pure, tanned skin felt under my hand. Christ, I did not want to go, but I had to.

Leaving for home had been the most difficult decision in my life I think, but somehow I needed to distance myself too. To think about my girlfriend a bit...


Jack stayed home the next day too. Nothing really exciting happened for the first part of the day (I kept mostly to myself anyway), so at lunch after eating a bite I stuck out for the park as usual. Jennifer was there ahead of me, also as usual. It felt awkward being the one approaching her, what if she did not want to talk to me? But, she did after all.

"Hello there, stranger", she greeted me. It wasn't as if we'd not seen each other for a year or whatever, us falling into each other's arms and everything. No, it was a quite, uh, 'natural' reunion instead, plain and functional sort of.

"Can I join you?" When she gave the go-ahead, I sat down at her side, not saying anything. Neither did she.

"Oh, this is so silly!", she exclaimed after a while. "I can't just sit here any longer, TALK to me, Alex! Say SOMEthing!"

I didn't know what to say. "Do you still love me?", I asked. I had no idea where it had come from, but I guess the thought had been gnawing at my sub-conscious mind for a while now, and it just popped out.

Jennifer got really, really mad. "Of course I still love you, you big idiot!", she yelled at me and whacked me harder on my shoulder than ever before, forcing me to bite down to silence the pain.

"Good." I looked at her, and she was angry and upset and disappointed, but there was still love deep underneath. I knew it, I just had to bring it up to the surface. I took her in my arms, she struggled against me first, but then relented. And then we kissed. Almost as soon as we touched, her anger disappeared and she again became more like the girl I knew. Maybe I had misjudged her. I'm really not such a Casanova I can spin a girl and turn her on her head with just a kiss, she probably wasn't as angry as I'd thought. Or maybe she was tricking me into believing she was a lot angrier than what really was the case, I'm not sure. It would be just like her to do something like that though; she knows how to make a guy feel guilty.

Afterwards, we talked through what we were feeling. Or rather, I mostly did the talking up until she'd told me she didn't really need a blow-by-blow description of what had happened between me and Jack, and that had totally cracked me up. It just sounded so funny, considering the context of our discussion. She tried to be annoyed with me when I laffed (she never did like being made the butt of a joke, especially when it was she herself that made it), but she of course understood why it had been funny and was soon heartily giggling along with my belly-laughs. Jesus, that felt so good. She sat leaning up against my chest, and we once more just enjoyed being alone in each other's company.

I sent Jack a thought, and my heart twinged at the thought of him possibly being all alone there in that big house. But what could I do? I could not be in two different locations at the same time however much I wanted to. And Jennifer, she was here and now...

We decided we would go out and see a movie together after school (yes, even though I was supposedly grounded, I believed I could talk my way out of it), there was a new romantic drama coming to the multiplex that Friday, and even though I'm not much into such stuff (and not Jennifer either come to think about it), we still decided to go see it, since it was the most talked-about movie to come for a long time. Waiting for her to get out of art class wasn't difficult, I was looking forward to our little excursion together.

She came out of the school building eventually, and we had ample time to get down to the cinema. First show was at four thirty, but that was on the biggest screen with like a thousand or more seats. Jennifer wanted us to go to a smaller, more intimate theatre, so we had to wait until five. I called home and told I wouldn't be able to make it home for dinner. My mom first got irritated because I wasn't home already boring myself out of my skull in my room, but she brightened up when she heard who I was with and allowed me to stay anyway, and I felt a little sad. I feared neither of my parents would be able to accept Jack and the huge part he played in my life just like they so readily did with Jennifer.

Anyway, I must say the movie was fantastic. I usually don't fall for stuff like that: romance, boy meets girl, girl loses boy finds boy anew, loses boy again forever stuff y'know. However, at the end of the movie when the male hero - played by a young pretty thing - died and all the girls in the room (including my own) were bawling their eyes out over him, I also felt myself rather shaken. I blamed the music. Damn Hollywood, they always had to lay it on so thick with those strings...! Yes, it was a really great movie. I held Jennifer's hand like a true gentleman, and she kept squeezing my leg whenever she felt like it. So Very Unfair.

After the movie had ended, we headed back towards Jennifer's place. It was over an hour's walk away, but the evening was warm and pleasant. I held her hand again, and deeply enjoyed her company. At her place, her dad was going to fix us dinner, which sounded great to me - I had been living on a diet consisting purely of popcorn and soda since lunchtime. Jennifer's old man was the kind of person that probably would have been arrested during the McCarthy era, always going on about how big business was busy destroying, buying or stealing what little democracy remained in our country and things like that. I don't know if he was right or not, but he was probably the most decent person I knew. His 'moral standards', which had been such a popular topic of discussion about me recently, were very high, and it showed in the girl he'd brought up too. I was so glad she was still accepting me.

Jennifer had no mother. Well, not a living one anyway; she had died soon after giving birth, and her father had never remarried. He was a bit like a swan in that regard I thought; I'd heard they also mated for life and never took another if the other died. Not sure growing up without a mother had affected her, but she didn't seem as whimsical as many other girls, who often talked of little else than makeup, clothes and boy-band members (or at least it seemed so to me at that point in my life). She read poetry, and drew sketches in pen and ink and was really, really good at it too. She'd wanted me to do me in the nude several times, but I'd never let her (too much of a coward). If she asked again now, I wasn't so sure I would say no.

Max, Jennifer's dad, had a big, red beard. His head was completely bald and shiny like a billiard ball, even though he was only in his forties, and he had kind of a big belly you could say. It was attached to a huge frame, his hands were huge too, which suited him well, being a worker at the steel mill outside town. He wasn't so tall, 6,2" or in the thereabouts perhaps, but he was BIG. And kind. He would join in our discussions when it was appropriate and always kept out of the way whenever I and Jennifer wanted to be alone. I think that was because he loved his girl so much, he wanted her to be happy above all else. That evening, he had grilled salmon and tomatoes for us on the barbecue outside, tossed up a great salad and made baked potatoes in the oven. It was a superb meal, even though we had to wait for it a bit after getting to her place so I had time to get even hungrier.

They lived in an old house that Max's father had built fairly early on in the century. It was yellow, and looked rather tall compared to its width. It had two storeys and an attic which Max had turned into an art studio for his daughter. Her room was also located there, and we soon retired ourselves from the dinner table. Max knew we were intimate, but did not poke his nose where it did not belong (according to his own standards even, not just ours). As long as I treated her well, I had nothing to fear from the big man, that I knew. And even though Max knew of me and the reputation I had, he believed it when I said that Jennifer was the most precious thing I had. It had been true all up until I met Jack.

Now I had two things that were the most precious things I had, and whenever I told him about it, I was certain he would support me. It wasn't time for that yet though.

As soon as we reached Jennifer's room, she sat down on her bed. I remained standing at the door. Since the room was in the attic, the roof didn't leave much headroom except in the middle of the room. She had two skylight windows, one on each side, and a triangular window set in the wall of the house. Most of the sloping inner ceiling was covered with her sketches, many of them showing my head from various angles. I always felt both flattered and a bit awkward about all the effort and attention she had spent drawing me whenever I saw them.

"Alex, let's talk", she said. 'Uh-oh', was my inner response.

"Alright." We HAD talked already, but I knew saying so would not change her mind. She wanted to talk some more, and it was probably going to get uncomfortable so I tried to sound as casual as possible. "Shoot."

She hesitated. She even blushed. Her, of all people, she who was candor personified. "I'm sorry, but I just have to know this... You remember when I asked you the other week whether you'd... You know, HAD him...?"

Yes, I remembered alright, and I felt a bit annoyed. She had already said she didn't want any details and here she went and asked anyway. Dammit, she was just TOO NOSEY at times. "You wanted to know if I'd fucked him yet, yeah I haven't forgotten", I said. I wanted her to feel ashamed, and I got what I wanted.

Her lightly freckled face flushed red, not the entire face like with me (and sometimes even down my throat), but on and around her cheeks and forehead. "Don't be so crude!", she said, looking utterly ridiculous. It was all her fault! "I said I'm sorry, alright?"

"Apology accepted", I replied curtly. "What I told you then is still true, I'm sure that's what you wanted to know."

She cast down her eyes, too embarrassed to look straight at me. "Yeah. Remember what I asked you next...?" She was very hesitant, I on my hand said nothing, quite on purpose. I wanted to make this difficult for her, and my silence coaxed her along, forcing her to do all that work she'd rather not touch with her own hands. "...You still want to do it, right?" It almost came as a whisper.

"I don't fuck you in the ass, do I", I replied heatedly, feeling myself starting to get angry. Was that really any of her business? I wasn't sure. but I sure as hell was starting to think it WASN'T.

She blushed deeper still if possible. "ALEX...!", she tried to admonish me. But it didn't work. "...You know I'm not into such stuff", she said at last, probably feeling clumsy and out of place. Served her just right.

I shot Jennifer a dark look. "Yeah, and maybe he isn't either, who knows! What are you getting at, dammit?", I snapped at her. "If you're just out to yank my chain, I can tell ya it's working!" My good mood was suddenly gone with the wind.

I had succeeded. Yes, I'd finally managed to bring my iron-willed girlfriend to tears completely on my own. Wow, what a big man I was. "Alex, I'm so sorry!", she said in between shuddering sobs. "Please forgive me!" SHE wanted ME to forgive HER? I was so bewildered I just stood there, still looking like a thunderhead. "I know I was being rude but I just wanted to know..."

"Know what?", I asked dourly.

She couldn't speak a single word for over a minute, she was too upset. "Damn you, Alex!", she managed after a while. "You really want me to spell it out for you?" I felt like the world's biggest asshole, but she had put herself in this situation as well, it wasn't all my fault. I stood there and said nothing. "I wanted to know if we were ever going to have SEX again, Alex! There, I've said it." Christ... I was in total shock, I had never expected her to be so blunt, so open with her fears. It just didn't fit in with her.

I softly padded over to her where she was sitting on the bed, her face in her hands, elbows on her knees. I put a light hand on her shoulder. "Girl, you never did anything wrong in my book", I told her. "Please, please don't cry any more."

It isn't like turning off a water tap, when one is upset, the feelings has to run their course until the end. It was the same with Jennifer as with everyone else. But I knew she felt relaxed by my words, so I sat down beside her and put a comforting arm over her shoulder.

I am NOT going to tell you what happened for the next couple hours, what went on between me and my beloved Jennifer is not fit to share with anyone except ourselves. It was too precious, sacred. Anyway, let's just say, that I never did go home that night. There, that should be enough to get you going.


Saturday and Sunday I spent at home, mowing the lawn and doing various chores around the house. My parents kept me on a tight leach, making sure that if I wasn't doing some cleaning up either indoors or outside, I was up in my room with my nose in a textbook of some sort. I tell ya, neither the garage nor toolshed out back in the yard had ever been that neat and tidy after I'd spent hours working my buns off scrubbing the floor, dusting shelves and sorting through all the various boxes of stuff that accumulates as people live in a home for twenty years straight.

I was restless.

Restless from being pent-up in the yard, and my room. Restless from being kept away from Jack. Everybody in my family could see it, even my sisters stayed away from me, not trying to tease me. I suspect maybe my parents kept me away from him to 'save' me from the homosexual kid's 'bad influence' or something. For two days I didn't even dare phoning him. Third day - Monday - I got sick. Headache, queasiness and I was running a fever. My father called the school before he got off to work saying I would not be attending that day, and probably not for a couple days more. My mom took the young kids to their school before leaving for work as well. I was instructed to stay in bed, drink plenty of water and not watch any TV.

About two minutes after they both had left, I jumped out of bed, threw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and hurried over to Jack's place, my disease 'mysteriously' gone all of a sudden. Wouldn't it be ironic if he'd decided to go back to school that Monday? I could have called him first of course, but I wanted to show up in person. Calling isn't the same, I'm sure you understand what I mean. I skated like crazy, hoping he'd be there for me when I got there.

When I arrived at the big house, I was almost too scared to dare ring the doorbell. What if...

What if WHAT? ...If he wasn't there? ...If he was feeling rejected? I had said I'd be with my girlfriend at a moment when he had been feeling vulnerable, and then not kept in touch for three days! ...If he felt betrayed and didn't want to even look at me again?

I skated back and forth on the street in front of the house, feeling indecisive like I'd never been before.

I wished there would be movement in a window. Me only catching a glimpse of it, but sure it had been there, long, pretty hazel-brown hair on the other side of a triple-glazed window. It would be now or never: acting on a hunch, I would turn around and quickly skate up to the front door. I'd go so fast that I would have to stop myself by running into the door itself, but as I'd almost reach it, arms outstretched to act as buffers, it would open inwards.

I'd roll straight into the house, catching Jack on the way and lift him high. Totally overcome with joy, I would swear to him I would never leave him again, ever.


I'd ring the doorbell. Again, and again. Many times. Nobody would answer, but still I'd keep ringing. I would eventually sit down on the wide front porch, determined to wait for him to return, even if it would take all day. After a while, a guy from the house right across the street would come out to empty his mailbox to get the morning paper, and seeing me there, he'd call out to me.

"Son!", he'd say as I got up. "If you're looking for the kid living there, don't bother. They all packed up and left for France yesterday. They won't be coming back." Then he'd get his paper and return to the security of his home, leaving me standing there holding the broken pieces of my heart in my hands.

I kept imagining the most dreadful, horrific things, and I grew ever more apprehensive.

Even as I cringed at the thought, I was actually contemplating turning around and leaving. I was simply too damn scared to try to approach the boy that I loved. What if... What if? I could not finish the sentence. No, a clean break had to be better. Maybe he wasn't even there anymore. Maybe he HAD left already...

I did turn around and was about to skate the fuck outta there in a state of half-panic, when I saw him sitting on the curved stairs in front of that big, white door. I had no idea when he'd appeared, no idea how long he'd been there. One moment from the next, and he just was.

Jack sat there, holding his slightly pointy chin in his hands, almost amused it seemed to me. Like he was wondering what the hell I was doing, going back and forth outside the house like that. I had stopped completely, and simply stared at him. If a herd of elephants had come stomping through right then, they could have run me down without me ever noticing it.

"Are you just going to stand there all day or what?", he asked quietly. I didn't have to strain to hear, I could hear him quite clearly inside my mind.

I approached him slowly and cautiously, I still wasn't sure if he was happy to see me or not. I should have been able to tell, but I was feeling so damn insecure I wouldn't have been able to tell left from right at that moment. As I closed the distance, he rose up from his sitting position, and let himself be caught in my outstretched arms. Or, come to think of it, it was more the other way around I think.

Jack held me, making all my worries slowly drain away as I shed some tears on his shoulder, so happy that he still accepted me.

"I'm sorry", I whispered, sniffling. "I did not mean to abandon you!"

He hugged me close. "You did not abandon me, you're here now aren't you..." I felt his lovely scent of faint flowery perfume and that which was altogether him, and I did not want to let go of him ever again.

A while later when I had calmed down and gotten my skates off, we found ourselves sitting on the back verandah next to the pool. The house came with a number of large, heavy deck chairs a bit like those they had on those big Trans-Atlantic cruising ships in decades past. They were extremely comfortable, and it was so relaxing, leaning back and sinking down into the padded wooden chair. Jack was lapping sunlight just like I was in the chair next to mine, and I held my hand on top of his as it rested next to him.

Jack was wearing nothing but a pair of tight Speedos and black sunglasses that fit snugly on his lovely face. I had my floppy cotton shorts on, but had tossed off my T-shirt. I kept looking at him, not able to wrench my eyes away. Why should I, Jack was mine. So beautiful...

"I love you, you know", he said straight out into the air. It was the first time I'd heard it coming from his mouth. Suddenly he turned around in the chair, took off the sunglasses and looked at me. "You do understand that, don't you? That I love you?" He stretched out the words, like it was a new, sudden realization to him.

He was smiling at me, so happy and content. I grinned back and raised up the back of my deck chair a bit, then stretched out and grabbed him under his arms. Up in the air Jack went, and down on my lap, where he settled himself like it was the most natural place in the world for him to be. I raised up my knees to support his shapely butt, and suddenly he stuck in his heels (one encased in that plaster cast as it was) under my legs and thusly bracing himself, leaned forward right into my face.

We kissed. Only our lips touched, and just barely at that. Jack kept his arms at his sides, I kept mine on the armrests of the chair. But one kiss was not enough for me, I wanted more. Acting on this sudden desire, I took his face in my hands, and slowly began to lick it. I dunno what Jack was thinking at that moment, if he thought me mad, but he let me keep at it. I lightly held him, and let the tip of my tongue run across his perfectly smooth skin. Each part of him had its own texture, its own unique taste it seemed, and as I passed across one of his closed eyes, he began to giggle boyishly. I could feel the raised cornea beneath his eyelid, feel it moving about beneath that thin, velvety soft layer of skin...

I pushed Jack back a bit to look at him. He was still giggling, his face blushing slightly beneath his sun-tan. I reached out with my hand and caressed a lovely cheek; it was hot to the touch. The color of his face was not all that had changed about Jack; the tip of his erected penis was sticking out of the top of his swimming trunks, and the sight made me tingle with desire. I felt the blood rushing into my own organ, feeling it swell and start pressing against Jack's posterior. He grinned, recognizing what was happening to me, and raised up his butt a little and started to pull down his Speedos.

I jumped up.

"Dammit, kid!", I gasped. "Not-"

He put a hand over my mouth and laughed, a clear, bubbling laugh. "Who's going to see us? I skinny-dip all the time out here." He gestured at the tall hedge around the garden, and, yeah... He was probably right. I cast a suspicious look at the third-floor windows of the house on the other side of the hedge. Unless someone was standing there, looking down at us, nobody could see what we were doing. "RELAX, okay?", Jack ordered me. Then he resumed wiggling out of his swimming trunks. It did not take him long, and my dick was pounding with excitement long before that.

Jack's Speedos fell to the wooden floor below us without a sound, and I was again treated to an unobstructed view of his lovely body. His magnificent, pale dick was pointing out almost straight from him like it used to, throbbing with its own inner life. He pulled the lever that lowered down the back of the chair so that I was almost lying down flat on my back, and then crouched so his cute, white butt was sticking up straight in the air. I was wondering what was going to happen next, and after holding me like that over hot coals - me getting hotter all the time - he slowly started creeping back towards me. As his body righted itself again, his dick touched my stomach and I immediately felt the hairs on my body rise up, despite the warmness in the air. He let his dick kind of drag itself up my stomach, leaving a clear trail of moist slime in its wake.

Jack moved up high enough to plant a kiss on my forehead, then unexpectedly dropped straight down like a sack of flour, almost knocking my breath out of my lungs. Again, he bubbled with laughter and excitement, and I wrapped my arms around him.

"You will be the end of me if you keep it up like that", I told Jack, and gave him a crushing hug, making him groan. We laughed together, sharing the deck chair, with me taking the time to find the various sensitive places on his body. Jack was kinda ticklish, but with him, the difference between a tickle - which most people actually find quite annoying - and sexual stimulation was very subtle. One second he could be squirming about on top of me trying to get away, giggling madly, and the next, as I would touch him slightly differently, he'd just melt in my hands, moaning with pleasure. His neck was sensitive, from below his ears and down, and the sides of his chest, and most of all perhaps, the insides of his thighs and other places too. I had the pleasure of watching his eyes suddenly start to flutter as I got things right in every possible way. We'd take small pauses in between and simply cuddle, and then we'd start anew again. I took off my shorts too, and that only made things even better, I loved it when he'd lie down on his back on top of me so my hard dick could reach up between his buttocks, while I caressed his soft, flat tummy...

After a good while of constant stimulation, my balls were aching so bad I thought they were going to crack apart from the strain! Staying sexually aroused for a long time without relief does that to me, and I didn't know how to bring the topic up to Jack without looking like an idiot. Lucky me then, I didn't have to.

"Let's go swim!", he said, his stomach pressed tightly against mine.

I had been busy gently massaging the twin mounds of his butt, just as he was busying himself playing with my pectorals, kissing them and nibbling at my nipples. I wasn't sure it was such a great idea, still a bit apprehensive about being naked without being enclosed by walls, even if it was in a place where it was unlikely I'd be seen. Jack was relentless however, and tugged and pulled on me until I yielded. Of course, seeing his magnificent body moving helped a lot of course, and thinking how it would feel next to my own in the water of the swimming pool.

"We'd better get that foot of yours wrapped up", I said with a grin and picked him up by putting a firm hand under his butt. I was always amazed at how light he was to hold in my arms as I lifted him. Jack wrapped himself around me, holding on real tight like a leech, and I was starting to get dizzy from excitement. I buried a hand in his hair, holding the other under his butt to make sure he was safe, and walked into the house to find a suitable plastic bag.

Inside the house it was very dark even with the lights turned on, and it felt rather chilly. Jack burned with a strange inner heat, keeping me warm. I hugged him close to me, not wanting to let go. We quickly found what we were looking for, and wrapped up his foot real tight, then emerged out into hot sunlight again. I lowered Jack down to the ground at the side of the kind of kidney-shaped pool where he looked at me, flashed me a grin and dove into the water. It wasn't nearly as graceful as he would have managed using two legs, but still a fairly nice dive. The splash scattered water far and wide, much landing on me I have to say, and soon Jack surfaced to survey the carnage.

Tossing his head back to clear his long hair out of his vision, Jack paddled back to me, laughing. I was still standing there, my wang only semi-hard now from lack of stimulation. "Hey! Come on, hop in!", he suggested. "It's warm in here!" To help my decision making along, Jack sent a huge splash of water my way with his hands. I tried to shield myself as best I could, but it was impossible as Jack continued to splash me with more water. I took a big leap and curled up in the air, making an enormous depth-charge-like attack as I landed in the pool.

"Yeah! That's more like it!", Jack congratulated me as he swam up to me and attached himself much like an octopus I think. His hardness jabbed me like a sword in my lower stomach, and my pulse immediately quickened.

The water was warm and pleasant, and being naked in a swimming pool was an entirely new experience for me, feeling the wetness envelop me in an entirely different manner compared to with a pair of swimming trunks on. Making love to Jack in the pool was also something new (even though water did seem to be a common denominator with us two), he became much more unhindered than on land; much more agile in a way and even the cast didn't seem to bother him much.

I loved it whenever I managed to touch him exactly the right way and a wave of ecstatic pleasure would crash over him, making his eyes roll up in his skull, just like that first time we began our amorous exploits. I'd reward him with a deep, sensual kiss each time it happened. Jack came fairly quickly, for me it was more difficult.

We had to restrain ourselves somewhat, since we were outdoors we could not afford too much in the way of groaning and moaning, no matter how good something felt, and that was a bit frustrating. Jack was doing wonders to me with his hands as we were curled up together at the shallow end of the pool, and I had to bite my lip to keep myself from crying out. Finally, I allowed myself to discharge, and almost thought I would faint from the strain. I'd never quite felt that way before, I got this strange sense of vertigo, and then, the next second I was completely submerged under water. I came up again, sputtering, gasping, then promptly inhaled some foam off the surface which set off a coughing attack. Jack seemed highly amused by my performance, rewarding my not-so-near-death-experience with a fit of laughter more worthy of a seven-year-old than a young teenager.

"Alright, you little rascal!", I told him and ruffled up his wet hair that laid slicked against his pretty head. "I've had enough bathing for a while, how about you?" Without waiting, I again put my hands around him and bodily lifted him up and started walking out of the pool. Jack was still hard, while I was all floppy down beneath my waist. I admired his stamina, but then again, he hadn't just spent himself either, so I wasn't jealous or anything.

We again returned to the deck chair, Jack using me as a mattress, which I did not mind the slightest of course. In fact, I still couldn't get enough of him, and we proceeded to a session of wild, passionate kissing as we slowly dried in the sun. Eventually, we were so exhausted we just laid there, our bodies touching in the most exquisite manner. I'd feel every muscle of his tense and move as he adjusted himself every once in a while on top of me to find a more comfortable position, and then he'd relax and simply sink down into me... Yes, I sure enjoyed it.

"That first time...", I said slowly. "You spoke in a French accent." It wasn't a question, really. Or you could say that it was.

"Yeah, well, I was trying to seduce you, so it seemed proper", Jack said in an amused voice. "Besides, French is the language of love, no?", he added in an outrageous accent.

I laughed, making him bounce up and down on top of me. "You show-off."

Jack smiled. "Why do you think I dressed in those tight pants that first day we met, huh? You think I go to school looking like that every day?"

That kind of baffled me. Then it dawned on me. "You had been looking me over before we met, hadn't you!"

He shrugged as best he could, lying down like that. "Yeah. I'd seen you around..."

"You little weasel, you said it was fate, the reason we met!" I shook an accusing finger at him, but I could not help laughing.

"It was!", Jack defended himself stoically. "I just helped it along a bit."

"Dammit, kid!", I yelled and threw my arms around him, still laughing. After that, we did not speak much, we just... Well, existed. Jack was resting his head against my chest, listening to the slow beating of my heart I knew. I'm not sure how much time we spent like that, because hours must have passed and we hadn't moved from the spot. We both probably dozed off for a while, I'm not sure. Anyway, I started to worry about Jack's parents coming home (yes, I still wasn't ready to face them), and then he told me they had already left for France the day before. Thomas the cook was going to come at five to fix dinner, but there was nothing either before or after stopping us from having a good time together, so we again relaxed and simply shared the moment.

"You boys had fun today?" There were no hidden undertones in his question, just plain curiosity.

Thomas Vermillion was a pretty cool guy, much younger than I'd expect of a cook, about 25 or so perhaps. Definitely less than thirty at least. He was pale like me and about my height, but blonde, and a little soft around the waist (probably from tasting all those sauce pans all day or whatever he did when not cooking for Jack). Not so much that he was actually fat, but not slim either mind you. And as I said, a pretty cool guy. You could easily relate to him, since he wasn't that much older. We watched him make dinner for us, and he'd keep talking about what it was he was doing, about the ingredients and where they came from etc, but then he could suddenly switch topic completely and start talking about sports for example, or books, some writer that Jack liked.

He was quite a character, and one could not help oneself liking him either. Making dinner for Jack was apparently the last thing on his agenda that day, because he shared a meal with us. As it turned out, he was a vegetarian too, but not as hardcore as Jack, more due to a personal preference than an ethical choice I think. I had a nice steak with all the trimmings while they shared some soy mush. No, I do Thomas' cooking skills a great disservice by saying that, it actually looked rather delicious, but don't ask me what it was called. I don't know, and I did not ask.

After dinner we retired up to Jack's place while Thomas took care of the dishes and all that. He had been asked by Jack's parents to stay over to keep an eye on their son, but it would not be necessary that day. I had decided, I would not go home that evening.

Making the phone call wasn't very pleasant, but I had to do it.

"So... The old thermometer-and-bedlamp trick, huh?", my father asked me.

"Umm, yeah. Sorry about tricking you like that."

He was quiet for a few seconds. "Well, you know, son...", he started, perhaps uncertain what he was going to say, and how to say it. "We only wish what's best for you, your mother and I. You know that, don't you?"

I didn't know what to say, he'd probably try to talk me out of seeing Jack again, saying it was a phase I'd have to pass through but everything would turn out just fine in the end... So, I said nothing. My father seemed to sense the reasons for my silence.

"I know your new friend...uh...means a lot to you. We worry only because we love you son, but if you are sure about this..." He stopped and seemed unable to continue.

"Thanks, dad", was all I said.

He hesitated. "You take care now, you hear?"

We said goodbye, and that was it. A couple pounds of rocks had just fallen from my heart. Jack and I spent the evening watching another DVD movie called "Gattaca", and when Jude Law appeared, Jack asked this really weird question.

"You think he's attractive?"

I was kinda perplexed. "Who, that guy there?" I pointed at the screen. Jack paused the movie, then nodded. "Well... Uh, no. Not really."

"Aww, come ON! You can say it!"

I told Jack the truth. "I only have eyes for you, kiddo."

He blushed, I know he did. I kissed him on his lovely forehead, and then we sat together and enjoyed the rest of the movie. When it was over, Jack yawned deeply, then stretched. "Tired...", he mumbled and suddenly started to strip off his clothes. That made me think of where I was supposed to sleep. The sofa, while comfy for a limited period of time, really wasn't suited for a whole night's rest, and Jack's bed was awfully small for two people. Maybe Jack had sensed this in me, because when he was only dressed in his birthday suit he held out his arms at me. "Pick me up!", he ordered and I obeyed willingly.

I put one arm beneath his back, the other under his knees, and he wrapped one of his arms around my shoulders. Telling me to go out into the corridor, he steered me back to the stairs and beyond. At the very end of that corridor was a white door.

It kinda felt like my wedding night somehow, carrying Jack over the threshold into that white dream of a bedroom. It was totally, completely MAGNIFICENT. Right in the center of the roughly square room, in front of two large windows, was an enormous bed made of some deep, deep brown, almost black wood. It had four corner posts supporting a satin and lace canopy. The white bedspreads were also full of lace and frills and all sorts of fancy stuff. The room's walls were made of white-painted wood paneling, and along the right wall there was a big wooden clothes cabinet (also white). The left wall was decorated with several tall porcelain pots (or would that be urns, perhaps?) that were stacked full with long-stemmed, dried pink roses. The windows had elaborate silken and lace curtains that flowed like twin waterfalls towards the floor. Next to the door, there was a stand with a washbasin and a narrow, tall mirror attached to it.

The air inside was dry and just a little bit dusty, like nobody had set foot in there for ages. I could feel the smell of clean linen too, and there was still a tiny hint of flower scent too I think. Jack laid there in my arms, studying my face as I took everything in. Yes, it was kind of overwhelming. Not that the room was sheer luxury or anything, it was just very fancy, and beautiful in a modest kind of way.

I shifted my grip on Jack so I could get one hand free, then pulled away the covers to make room for him. I put him down, tucked him up and saw him nestle in so perfectly it just made my heart ache. His dark brown hair spilled out over that shiny white pillow, and he was simply beauty personified. I caressed one of his cheeks for just a moment, feeling so much love and affection for him it was almost unbearable. His eyes were closed, his breathing light and regular, like he was already well on his way towards the kingdom of sleep.

I lightly walked around the bed and climbed in really slowly so I would not disturb him. Thusly, I bedded Jack for the first time, we shared peace and warmth in our sleep. I could not possibly have been more satisfied.

Yes, saying this makes me remember the flippant remarks I made at the start of this story. No, I'm still not a faggot, I have to say. A pointless distinction one might think when I have already proven myself to be able to love a boy, but an important one to me all the same. And while there may be nothing I enjoy MORE than sleeping next to a beautiful girl, I enjoy it just as much with a boy. As for how I'd react now, being checked out by a guy in a shower... Well, I just might be a bit flattered. See? A guy can change! All in a week and a half. Just a week and a half...

The rest of the week that followed up until That Day was bizarre to say the least. I won't say that Jennifer and Jack shared me, exactly, it sounds so... Well, primitive. The morning on Tuesday was hell for me; I did not wish to leave Jack again, but he called a cab and followed me to school. It made things easier for me I must say.

I did spend every other day at each of their places, savoring every moment with each of them. My parents hardly caught a glimpse of me during that short period, I'm not sure what the heck they were thinking really. I hope they were happy about me being happy however, but as I said, I'm not sure. How we were going to hold everything together as we grew up, I had no idea. Things can change so much when people pass from adolescence into adulthood. We took everything one step at a time, and it had worked out just fine that far.

What Jack wanted with his life, I wasn't really sure. He never had much of a childhood I'm sad to say, and by then he was too old to go back and try to make up for what he'd lost. Obviously, his gymnastics meant a lot to him, and not being able to practice on his trampoline in the garden grated on him. And the skating too, not just rollerblading, but proper figure skating on ice. He'd never done much of that either in the past, but he wanted to. In a way, that cast was hurting him more than the broken ankle I'd say.

As I had already guessed, it wasn't that his parents had denied him any of these things, they just never encouraged him pursuing them. Only his education had mattered to them it seemed, but to be fair to them (they weren't monsters), they had been tricked along by Jack's talent. He soaked everything up so quickly they feared he would get bored if they didn't constantly pile on new stuff for him to learn. That sports might have been more important to their Brainiac of a son than third-grade equations and integrals just never occurred to them, it was beyond their horizon of comprehension since they themselves had never had any such interests.


Another week, another full circle. That Thursday made it fourteen days since Jack stormed into my life on those rollerblades of his, and it was also the end of one brief era of my life and the start of another, in more than one meaning of the words. Jennifer, me and Jack were going on our first...eh...triple date. It was just a test, we weren't planning anything ahead of it, certainly no threesomes in bed or anything even remotely like that.

Besides, by then, Jennifer was dying to meet Jack properly; the only time she'd even spoken to him was the day after he had tumbled me in the hockey arena shower.

Things worked out well, we had selected the movie we wanted to see, a rough Indiana Jones-style action adventure, and Max, Jennifer's father, came in his big station wagon and picked us up to take us to the cinema. We all bunched up in the back seat with me in the middle, primed and ready to have a good time first at the cinema and then a restaurant. I'd made a dinner reservation for a nice table for three at a place that really was more expensive than I could afford, but I wanted it to be my treat.

I can hardly describe the events that were to come, the loss, the grief and the constant heartache that followed me every single day unto this very moment. But I mustn't get ahead of myself...

The movie was great. In fact, it was more than great. Actually, the on-screen action was barely acceptable; a bit of a paradox perhaps. Sure, the special effects were awesome, the action was hot and thick and the girls beautiful, but it lacked originality in the extreme and what little story there was, was re-hashed and extremely lame. Mostly the whole movie seemed like one long ad for one particular brand of mobile phones, but that mattered little on the whole. No, what was so great was watching it with the two most important individuals of my life. Imagine what it's like having a hand squeezing each of your legs at the same time, having a pretty head leaning against each shoulder, getting a loving peck on each of your cheeks at times. There you will have me right then, I was in heaven. I was literally swimming in a sea of love and wonders, and it totally and completely made up for the rather duff movie.

When we came out the front doors, I held a protective arm over each of their shoulders. I was floating on little pink clouds you could say, which would only make the quickly approaching fall so much harder.

The wide street in front of us had two lanes in each direction, and the restaurant was a few blocks away on the other side. It wasn't far at all, Jack could manage easily even without my help; he was hopping around on his crutches like he'd never done anything else in his life. I'd taken him on my shoulders in the blink of an eye if necessary however.

As we approached the crossing, a police car went past at full bore, sirens blaring, lights flashing. We all turned our heads in the direction it was going to see what was up since it had ran past even though we had a green light. Just before the next intersection it skidded to a halt sideways, tires screeching against the asphalt. It completely blocked both lanes, and we were wondering what the hell was up as we stepped out into the street, not knowing that Death was literally bearing down on us at that very second.

The mechanical roar of a big diesel engine being pushed to the limit made me turn my head.

Only I saw the truck coming. It had been hi-jacked by a professional car thief just half an hour earlier, loaded shock full of valuable consumer electronics, and we were now straight in its path.

"Oh SHIT!", was all I managed to say as I stopped dead in my tracks. I wanted to pull my loved ones to safety, but there wasn't any time for that, I was too slow. Jennifer and Jack had proceeded ahead of me, Jack on crutches and Jennifer on her own two beautiful legs, before they too realized what was happening. They managed not quite two steps I'd think.

The truck slammed into all three of us, striking me a glancing blow that tossed me aside like a rag doll up onto the sidewalk which we had left only seconds earlier. I do not remember anything of the following one and a half days or so.

Slowly awakening in a hospital bed, I found myself surrounded by people that I knew.

My whole family was there. My mom and dad, and my two sisters. My maternal grandmother. Jennifer's father was there. Jack's mother and father was there.

Their eyes were all red and swollen, some of them still crying and sniffling.

I understood what had happened, and my world absolutely shattered to pieces.

The ancient immovable oak tree, it's massive trunk split down the middle by lightning. The bark ravaged and blackened by fire. The leaves burned to ashes. It was no longer living.

Moving on from something like that is not easy. Quite frankly, I don't understand myself how I did it. Maybe I had time to put my mind back together as my body healed, physically I had come away relatively unscathed from the ordeal. A couple ribs were busted, my left arm fractured. A concussion, some bruises and scratches. That was it. Quite frankly, I did not consider myself worthy to live for a long time afterwards, I had the worst case of survivor's guilt you could possibly imagine and would just break down into tears at the most inopportune of moments. Knowing I had stood there and not been able to save my loved ones, it almost drove me over the edge. Had I been able to switch places with them, giving my life for saving theirs, I would have done it in a heartbeat.

I was going to hold a speech at the joint funeral ceremony, I had written it all up and everything, but when the moment came all I could do was stand there in my black suit and weep in the slow rain, refusing the protection of an umbrella.

Jack, the love of my life, goodbye.

Jennifer, the love of my life, goodbye.

That was all I managed over the course of five minutes. I stood there in front of school classmates, team mates, friends, relatives, and expressed my love and sorrow for a boy and a girl. But who cares about such things at a moment like that? Not I, not I...

Jack's parents moved out of the big house soon afterwards and went back to Caix, France. Of the university study became nothing. They could have taken their son with them to be put to rest in his homeland, but they didn't. I'm not sure why, maybe they thought he had been more at home here than he'd ever been back there. He rested next to Jennifer and her mother's graves. It seemed fitting, somehow.

Geoffrey Fletcher (Esquire, I believe), the owner of the house, was a very decent and understanding English fellow. He kindly kept Jack's rooms intact exactly as they were the last time he had been in them, only having them dusted off every once in a while. I go there sometimes just to try and remember what it had been like, knowing that wonderful kid with the wry grin who had managed to communicate so much to me using so little. Jack's grave, that is not where he is. He lives in that big house, not in a cold, damp hole in the ground... I don't disturb, nor even touch anything when I'm there, apart from flipping the DVD player to track number five of the loaded CD.

It was the last tune I ever heard together with Jack. 'Sarabande: Largo', Concerto No.3 for Oboe in G minor by Handel. He had been quite the classics buff, and in some ways it has rubbed off on me too.

I just stand there, listening to the music until it ends, perhaps hoping to hear the toilet flush and see him coming out of the bathroom, smiling happily at me. It is a wish I know will never be fulfilled, but I cannot help myself all the same. I usually cry a little too while listening to the crisp but sorrowful tones. Mr. Fletcher, being the elderly, distinguished gentleman that he is, sometimes invites me to dinner afterwards. Thomas cooks the food and then joins us, and I silently wonder if the two are an item or not. They try to cheer me up, but it is still so hard, so very hard to come to terms with it all. Anyway, it's been a while now since I last visited. I don't know when, or even if I'll ever go back.

As for me... Well, I told you before more than once I'm not the brooding type, and despite everything that happened to me that autumn it still IS true. I think that's basically what saved me. Did I want to kill myself in the odd chance there was an afterlife and I'd join them there? Hell, yeah. In the first few weeks there wasn't a day that went past when the thought did not cross my mind. Damn, just moving, BREATHING was total pain due to my broken ribs (unless you've experienced it yourself, you really have no idea how bad it hurts). Gradually though, I could start handling my grief more at arm's length and that made my mood pick up somewhat. Also, I started hurting less, and I could begin to move about properly. It was possible to train hockey again, to work out at the gym. I got to it with vigor in order to make up for my lost strength, and like Jack, to soothe the awful pain I still was feeling deep inside of me.

Months afterwards, I had just about recovered completely, physically at least, and mentally, mostly. I still thought every day bleak and hollow, being bereft of the two objects that had shed so much sunlight into my existence. But it was not that abyss of total darkness that surrounded me like before either, thank goodness. I was back in school since long of course. But apart from that, nothing was the same as before. People knew about me and Jack, and what we had shared. I wasn't exactly shunned, but I wasn't the center of attention like I'd often been before either. I was calmer, didn't get into nearly as many arguments (and thus, fights) like I had before, and those that still happened, I ended before fists began flying. I guess people could feel I was no longer the thoughtless slugger I once had been. I had also been growing and gaining weight since the summer, and often it was enough to flex my arms a bit to convince any troublemaker it just wasn't worth it.

I did get to know the hidden side of a few of my old friends though, but none of them held any kind of attraction to me. We were, and remained friends, I could not think of them in any other way. We even became better friends than before I think, and I was satisfied with that. I even kept myself away from the girlies too. I could have gotten myself a new GF had I but wanted to, there were plenty of females interested in me. But my heart was not in it.

One Sunday, after having been walking around in Jack's old neighborhood I happened upon a small restaurant. A sign outside showed a long, swirling Chinese dragon, under it was a string of letters that proclaimed, 'Chao Fah Thai Dinner and Take-Away'. Acting on a hunch (and just a slight twinge of hunger, or maybe, the imagining of one just to get an excuse to go inside), I entered. The place was kind of cozy with raw wooden beams showing amongst the rough brick walls. Decorations were spartan, but it was neat, tidy and clean. It was also nearly deserted, maybe people didn't eat there in the early afternoon or they all ordered to go, I wasn't sure.

I was just sitting there, lost in melancholic thought while looking out a window when someone plopped down a menu in front of me. Without looking I said, "One number twenty-three please. Extra spicy. And a glass of orange juice if you have."

"Coming right up, dude", a smooth voice said and the menu disappeared just as quick.

I sat there feeling empty inside (and I'm not talking about my belly here), and soon the steaming plate was delivered to me. Feeling the vaguely familiar scent of the dish almost brought tears to my eyes. I looked up and saw that same Asian guy who had come by the house on Crescent Street that day looking back at me. He must have recognized me, because he told me how sorry he was about what had happened. He'd read about the accident in the paper and remembered it because he'd delivered takeaway to Jack on more than one occasion.

I thanked him and started eating my food without much enthusiasm. I couldn't force down much of it however good it should have tasted had I not been in such a somber mood. It was damn spicy, but that wasn't the problem. It was my spirit that was missing, and that made the food taste ashen. Anyway, I started coming back there, and I began talking more with the guy too. He'd sit down at my table whenever he had time, and we'd just...talk. He was in highschool too, second year (but not attending JHH), and the reason he was working in the restaurant was he was helping his folks out evenings and weekends (they owned the place). His name was Aroon, he was friendly, and after a while, I found myself liking him.

Yes, I definitely felt my spirit begin to rise, and especially when Aroon was either around or in my thoughts. I knew it never would, never could be the same between me and him as it had been between me and Jack and Jennifer, even if we were to be together somehow - which I could not take for granted, I had never even hinted it to him and neither had he to me. But I couldn't live my life like a swan either, even though a part of me felt I should, even wanted to. I'm just too young for that, the loves of my life just have to forgive my erring ways wherever they might happen to be right now, I have so many years ahead of me yet...

Autumn had passed well into winter, it was long past first snow. The months had continued to tick off, Christmas was behind me, as was new year's eve too. January had come and gone, Valentine's Day was coming up fast, and I noted that it would soon be six months since I'd first met, and then lost Jack. He'd turned fourteen, if he had still been alive. The air was fairly cold as far as plain temperature was concerned, but it wasn't windy at all, so it was actually rather pleasant an experience. Me and Aroon met up that day after school in the city after having spoken much about it at the restaurant. We'd never tried to see each other outside the walls of the Thai place, and I was a little apprehensive. Nervous.

I still hadn't mentioned to him the fact I kind of fancied him, and as for him there was only that vague hint of his sexuality which he'd dropped at our first encounter, complementing me and Jack together.

What if he didn't feel for me the way I did for him? Well, only one way to find out is there...

We wound up in Avalon Park, popular hanging-out place for young people in the summers, making out between the low hedge-rows, and with kids in the winter. That day it was too cold to make snowmen or snowballs however so not many were around, just some toddlers sliding down a small hill on their coveralled butts, watched over by their moms. Aroon really was a little taller than me, even if it was just one inch or maybe a bit more. Not as stocky a build as me though; he was a swimmer apparently, something I was not very good at, Aroon was lean but fairly broad-shouldered like many swimmers. Even though he was older and taller, I was the heavier and stronger of us two, and it made a good contrast between us, I think. Aroon's face was indeed good-looking, even quite pretty you could easily say. He had such beautiful black eyes, they looked like all pupil except for the whites. I always notice people's eyes, and when many other guys go directly for someone's boobs or ass, I check out their eyes. Not that I don't care about that other stuff, don't get me wrong! I just have a thing with eyes, that's all, they being 'the window to the soul' like they say. Also, his cheeks were nice and rounded (much like Jack's, and there was a twinge of sorrow again), and a well-defined but not overly prominent chin. Aroon's smile was small and neat, and was made all the better because he had quite luxurious lips for a guy, which I found enticing. I had often wondered how it would be to touch them, even kiss them. He kept his straight, shiny, black hair shorter than Jack had, but still parted it down the middle.

I would have liked to say it was a complete accident. I can't in all honesty do so however, it could have been my sub-conscious that made me take off my gloves and then sneakily steered my hand so it'd gently brush against his ungloved hand as we walked. It could also have been something quite deliberate; as I said, I'm not absolutely sure.

I touched his bare, almost golden honey-brown skin for just an instant, but it was enough to make all of me all tingly. He didn't seem to have noticed, probably thinking it was an accident. We continued walking. Our hands made contact again, longer this time and the contact made the hairs on my body rise up almost all at once. A deep shiver coursed through me, and then, right on top of that second time, we brushed again. This time I was almost certain it wasn't an accident, and neither was he I think. I didn't KNOW, but I felt like that was the case. Not wanting to wait any longer, I reached out just as he did, and our fingers intertwined. I held him for a few seconds, then turned and looked him...

...Straight into his dark almond eyes as he looked at me.

We stopped. Not knowing if it was the right thing to do or not, I reached out with my other hand and lightly touched his cheek, guiding him in closer to me. He was soft and warm to my touch despite the chilly air...

Our lips met just briefly, and yes, I'll be damned if I didn't feel that electric sparkle again. Not as strong with Aroon as with Jack perhaps, but still a healthy buzz. It was not love, I'm sure of that, not at that first kiss. It was physical attraction, and that really was something I needed as much right then as anything else.

Our next kiss was longer, more deliberate, not as quick and fumbling. I had to stretch up a little to reach him properly, and I put my hand on his slender neck for balance, feeling his thick, rich hair tickle the back of my fingers. He tasted so sweet after all those days of bleakness I had suffered through. I wanted more!

There suddenly was a firm hand cupping my ass, and not caring if anyone saw us, two guys making out in a winter-landscaped park, I kissed him again, this time with a fierceness I had not known for a long time. He responded to me, pressing his hips in close to me, and I'm not sure, but I might have felt his boner through our pants. I was rapidly getting very stiff myself.

Aroon's place was not far, I can only assume he'd been steering me in that direction in the odd hope of us connecting. He was still living with his folks in an apartment block, but they were at the restaurant working like always, as long as the place was open for business and for some time before and after too. They closed at eleven, I knew, so we would have plenty of time for ourselves.

We acted with a singular purpose, like machines. As soon as we were across the doorstep, we began shedding our layers of clothing on the floor. I wrenched my feet out of my boots without bothering to unlace them (something I rarely, if ever do), then moved with Aroon into his room as he dragged me along, us both still tugging and pulling stuff off.

Aroon's room was spartan almost in the extreme. He had a set of windows in the wall, right in front of the entrance, and below them was a double-bed mattress placed directly on the floor. He had a small, neat and tidy desk to the left of the bed, and a few wooden boxes on wheels standing off to the other side, each with a set of four drawers placed into their side.

I didn't look at much else than him, however. His skin was so beautiful, so rich in color and just adorable to the touch. He wasn't really boy-smooth like Jack had been, the texture was slicker somehow, more mature. But still, he had that gorgeous, hairless Asian complexion, and it almost literally made my blood boil. My hands explored his chest a little - he had firm, but not very prominent muscles; he probably did not work out, then I encircled his willowy neck to draw him in close to me when I saw hesitation in his eyes and stopped.

"Sorry Alex...", he said. "I-I've never done something like this before..."

I smiled, so in awe of the trust he was placing into my hands; his whole life as it seemed. It was the greatest of gifts he could have given me I think, and that must have been plain to see because I saw him relax too.

"Don't worry... I will be gentle", I told him softly.

I felt my hand across his tummy, and like Jack's, it was hard muscle beneath a thin layer of softness. We slowly and carefully embraced, being completely naked as we were, standing there on the floor in front of his bed, not doing anything too quick so Aroon wouldn't get scared. Yes, do I think it was the first time for him, and it was a totally different experience for him than it had been for me. I had been a horny bastard galloping ahead at full steam, Aroon wanted to be guided each step on the journey, and I took time and care to make sure it would be enjoyable for him.

Slowly I guided him down on the wide bed, us both sitting down facing each other, our legs folded in under us. He sat with his knees sticking out wide apart, his erect penis pointing away from his body in a 75-degree angle. I was bigger than him. My six plus fat inches compared to his five and a half slender inches. Another similarity that brought a pang of remembrance. I took my time as I let my hand approach his dick so he'd know in advance what would happen next. His eyes closed as my hand touched the sensitive organ, and when I gave it a light squeeze, Aroon tensed up, sucking in air through his teeth. I slowly began to rub his uncut dick with my hand, then speeded up when I felt he was fully accepting what I was doing. Aroon had goosebumps all over and was leaking clear pre-cum, my hand was starting to get rather slick as I changed my grip to rub the knob or gently cup and squeeze his ball bag. My other hand, I held on one of his firm thighs, my fingers spread wide to absorb as much as possible from touching him. Then and again, I'd caress the slenderly muscled limb.

He was starting to lose both his hesitation and all control of his body I saw. Aroon was breathing deeply, his eyes slick with moisture. His penis, while not the pulse-throbbing little miracle Jack had been, had a tendency to spasm a lot whenever it was stimulated. I thought he was going to cum on me several times, but that just seemed to be the way it normally behaved (under such unusual circumstances anyway), and I found it quite charming I must say. I quickly learned to read him, and as he was nearing the point of ejaculation, gasping and shaking, I took him down to Earth again.

Aroon was almost genuinely upset with me. "Oh God Alex, why did you stop?! That was just so good, I can never do it myself like...!" He seemed surprised with himself he'd revealed so much of his inner thoughts.

I grinned. "Because I'm an asshole, and I didn't want you to shoot so soon."

He grinned too. "Next time, you HAVE to make me come, you hear?"

"Don't worry, you'll come alright." I gave him a quite indecent look, and he started laughing. I took the opportunity to take him in my arms, to kiss those full lips of his, and put him down on the bed proper. Placing myself semi-on-top, my leg across his belly so it touched his stiff dick, we began kissing and exploring each other, enjoying each touch immensely.



Looking down at the blackened tree's roots, there was a tiny acorn sprouting there. It was so very small, almost unnoticeable. But in time, it would be able to grow big and strong.



Oh joy, I finally was a whole person again.


Author's Notes:

As I set out to write this story, I intended for it to more or less be a quick-and-dirty affair, two kids screwing around and not much more than that. However, as I progressed, chapter after chapter, I noticed the characters had taken on a life of their own so to speak, they broadened and deepened. From being a story mainly intended to be concerned about sex, it turned more into a story about friendship, relations and love that happened to have sex in it.

I also did not want to write a complicated story where people got angry at each other and had big falling-outs and things get really messy and complicated and stuff. I did not want a wussy story either, mind you, but one that was basically a positive one. Enough drama to make it interesting, but not so much as to make it depressing.

Later, thoughts of how such a story would progress after it ended, lead to it's eventual conclusion. I have always had the (perhaps ridiculous) notion that young love is the most noble, pure kind there is, and having experienced it is not something that should be 'tainted' by aging. Also, I wanted to let my main character grow even more as a person than I already had, and thus... Well, there it is. The end of the story.

We who get deeply involved in our writing care for the characters we create, they almost become our children. We feel their happiness and suffering as deeply as they do - maybe more so - and we wish for them to be safe and comfortable just like we wish that for ourselves. But this story could not have a truly happy ending, even though it meant making a hard choice during writing as the end was nearing. I knew it could not end with the three of them living together happily ever after, that's the stuff of fairy tales. The story required that sting of bitterness and vinegar for completeness' sake, and for my main character's too. He would not become a full individual without it. Like a red-hot blade pulled out of the forge, Alex needed tempering to gain true strength.

I hope you as a reader agrees this evolution process was for the better. I know I certainly think so! I also hope you enjoyed my work. Thank you so much for reading this far!