Date: Tue, 11 Dec 2001 17:35:14 -0500
From: Elsewhere <dreamer@shell.monmouth.com>
Subject: Humor Me (Part 7/?, High School, m/m)

Humor Me

Disclaimer: This is a story about a romantic relationship between two
teenage males.  If that kind of story offends you, then please do not read
the following story.  Also, if you are under the legal age to read stories
of this type, then don't.  Please do not reproduce this story without
permission, since that is a copyright infringement.

Okay, I'd like to thank David for proofreading again.  It's been a help!

Also, I'm a little behind now (starting chapter 9), due to some RL stuff
that happened recently, which has had an affect on me.

Also, with regards to this chapter and the ones following, I ask you, the
reader, to bear with me.  I do have a plan with all of this.  :)

Comments go to dreamer@shell.monmouth.com.  Feedback is always very much
appreciated.



-Chapter 7-
 
	"Table for how many?"
 
	"One, Jace." I replied as I leaned casually against the doorjamb
which lead to the inside of Smitty's.  Mall patrons on the other side of
the door shuffled past, headed to other stores.  "Unless you have some free
time," I said.
 
	One of his eyebrows, the pierced one, rose. "Excuse me?"
 
	I pushed myself off the jamb, and turned to face him.  Since he was
at work, he looked pretty much the same as when I last saw him: shaggy
white-blond hair, leaf-green eyes set in an angular face, and the usual
Smitty's uniform of black slacks and a black-and- white checked shirt.
 
	I tried to remind myself why I was doing this.  It...was a need to
know.  I always held the belief that most people were good at heart, even
if there were exceptions to the rule.  Some actions...well, I also held to
the belief that all things required a rational explanation.
 
	It had been about three weeks since Mike told me his story: his
coming out, his first crush on Jace, their time together and the rejection
and despair afterwards.  I hadn't wanted to believe it, but I know that
what happened was all too possible.  If things in my life had been
different, that could have been me.
 
	But I still wanted to know why.  Jace had done a simple 'fuck and
forget' with Mike, and it almost ended up destroying him two years ago.  I
still didn't understand the reasons.  Why would people treat each other
like that?
 
	The rational part of my mind kicked in, then.  When he told me the
story, Mike had been specific.  It wasn't just a sob story of a boy being
victimized by an older guy; Mike had made a lot of mistakes, and naïve
ones at that.  He didn't cry martyr over it, and it seemed like he didn't
hate Jace for what the older boy had done.  Had it been me, could I have
been so forgiving?
 
	"I wanted to talk to you," I said.
 
	"Me," he asked, staring me up and down.  "What's this about?"
 
	"It's complicated.  And kind of private, so I'm not going to go
into details right here."
 
	He turned the menu he was holding over and over in his hands.  "I
think I know what this is about."
 
	As I stared into his eyes, wordlessly asking him to talk to me, I
began to feel queasy.  Why did I need to know, anyway?  What do I want from
this?
 
	Simple, you twit, I thought to myself.  You've lived in your own
little world all your life.  You have the love of a beautiful, intelligent
young man.  But you need to grow up and accept the fact that bad things
happen and you can't hide from them.
 
	"Probably," I said.  "It's a lot of questions."
 
	Jace frowned, tilting his head to the side.  "Did he put you up to
this?"
 
	"No.  I'm here on my own."
 
	Over the last few weeks, our relationship was getting better.  I
mean, it was official: we were in love.  The Big L.  I had spent the first
week wondering if I had said it in haste.  Saying it was a
spur-of-the-moment thing, and hadn't been part of my plan when I went to
Mike's that night.
 
	I mulled that over in silence, not telling anyone about my worries.
Did saying it when you didn't plan to make it all right?  Or did that make
it more honest?
 
	Did it matter?  Because, he loves me too.
 
	I came to the conclusion that I said it for one reason; I /wanted/
to.  I wanted him to know that I loved him, to let him know how important
he was to me.  I wanted to give him the world, just to see him smile, and
know it was for me.
 
	"All right," Jace said.  "It's almost my break, anyway."  Silently
he led me to a corner booth, setting the menu down in front of me.  "Wait
here.  I'll be around in ten."
 
	After the waitress came by to take my order (fries), I tilted my
head back as I waited.  The ceiling was mirrored, which was mostly used to
give more light to the place.  My reflection looked so small, like I was
watching myself from a great height.
 
	But, it was still me.  Love hadn't changed my physically.  I still
had the same straight hair, dirty blond, and parted on the side just so the
bands would hang down past my forehead on my right side.  Being blond and
sixteen, shaving was not an issue yet, and since I was still around
five-and-a-half-feet tall, I was still being mistaken for being younger.
Hazel eyes stared back at me, studying, cataloguing.
 
	I had taken the bus across town to here, earlier, telling Mike that
I had some stuff to do alone today.  The preceding weeks had been great,
and we were still adjusting to make the relationship work.  We had decided
not to become a single entity, like some of the other couples.  We wanted
to be Jonas and Mike, who just happened to be seeing each other exclusively
in a steady relationship, as opposed to JonasandMike.
 
	Similar to other entities, a JonasandMike entity would have been a
single unit that never separated, spent every single moment of free time
together, with one not existing without the other.  Mike and I agreed that
on that much: seeing that kind of inter-co- dependent relationship in
others made us fucking nauseous, and that was not what we wanted.
 
	It didn't stop us from seeing each other often, of course.  I
treasured the time I spent with him, with out friends, and the time I did
get to myself.  Whenever Mike and I did get time alone, we caught up with
each others' lives in between flurries of kisses and physical contact.
Absence does make the heart grow fonder.  I used to think that was a load
of bullshit, but yet again I was proven wrong.
 
	In the mirror, I saw Jace approach and slide into the seat opposite
mine.  "You're serious," he said, as I pulled my eyes from our reflections,
and back to reality.
 
	I nodded, not saying anything as the waitress came by, smiled, and
placed the plate of fries between us.  As she walked away, she shot Jace a
questioning glance, but he just brushed it off.  I took one fry, snacking
on it before I spoke.
 
	"I am," I said.
 
	"And he doesn't know you're here?"
 
	"No," was my answer, as I waved a hand over the fries.  "Go ahead,"
I added.  As he took a few to stuff inside his mouth, I started to talk.
"Mike and I...we're really big on personal space.  We're not joined at the
hip, I mean."
 
	Jace just looked at me as he swallowed, and nodded without a sound.
I locked eyes with him, and felt my insides squirm a little.  I was
starting to not like this.  What was I looking for?
 
	"Good for you," he said.  "But you want to talk to me for a reason.
Why?"
 
	Damn, I hate good questions.
 
	"Jonas," he asked after a moment.  "You still in there?"
 
	I reached for more fries, chewing on them as I slid my gaze away
from the older boy.  "Guess so," I mumbled.
 
	"Okay," he said with a sigh.  "I don't have all day, so I'll start.
What did he tell you?"
 
	"Honestly?"
 
	"Yeah."
 
	I nodded.  I wanted to know this.  "The short version is that you
and Mike met online.  You ended up meeting at school, where you both used
to go, and then you hooked up.  And he took it seriously and ended up
stalking you."
 
	A pair of pale blond eyebrows almost hit the ceiling.  "He...said
what !?"
 
	"Well," I said, shrugging.  "He never used the word 'stalked.'"
 
	"What did he say?"
 
	"That he fell for you because you paid attention to him, and he
followed you around like a shadow until you had to be mean to him to get
him to stop pestering you."  I took scant pleasure in watching his jaw drop
at this, pausing before I went on.  "You were his first love, but he said
it was infatuation because he was younger and more impressionable and all
that."  I shrugged again.  "He believed in stories."
 
	Jace swallowed the fry he was chewing on.  "And you?"
 
	"I like stories," I admitted.  "But I'm more into facts.  Cause and
effect, reasons, that sort of thing.'
 
	"Frickin' weird kid," I heard him mutter.  What, do people think
you're deaf at sixteen?
	"Why?"
 
	"Why what?"
 
	"Why do you want to know?"
 
	I leaned back, feeling the padding in the booth bench against my
spine.  "It's important to me."
 
	"Why?"
 
	"Because, I'm in love with him."
 
	Jace blinked, as if he didn't believe what he just heart.  "You're
for real."
 
	"Yeah," I said.
 
	"Does he know?"
 
	"He does?"
 
	"You told him?" he asked, almost incredulous.
 
	"Did you?"
 
	It didn't hit me for another second until I realized what I just
said.  Jace, on the other hand, was paying attention, and by the look of
guilt in his eyes, I knew I hit something, even if I didn't intend to.
 
	"Jace, I take that back-"
 
	"No," he said, not meeting my eyes.
 
	"I didn't mean-"
 
	"Yes, Jonas, you did," he replied.  "Maybe you didn't mean it
consciously, but you meant that.  The subconscious mind does that."
 
	"Yeah, yeah, I'm Freud's bitch.  But it doesn't matter."
 
	His eyes met mine again, and somehow Jace looked younger, and less
sure of himself.  "It does," he said.  "And I never said those words to
him."
 
	"I know," I said.  "What went on between you wasn't that kind of
thing."
 
	He winced, as if I'd just kicked him.  "Maybe I should have."
 
	"No."
 
	"Jonas?"
 
	"I'm wondering," I said.  "Is it better to have never said you
loved him, than to say you did when you didn't mean it?"
 
	Putting his elbows on the table, Jace cupped his chin in his hands.
"Good point," he said.  "But...I mean, he /was/ way too clingy, and he kept
calling, and I never had a minute to myself where he wasn't following me
around. If you had someone who needed attention twenty-four-seven like
that, how would you have taken it?"
 
	"I'm not judging you," I said.  Hell, it was starting to sound like
he had judged himself a long time ago, and found himself wanting.  "Though,
hearing this, a few things about the way Mike treats me make a lot of
sense."
 
	"What do you mean?"
 
	"He keeps telling me to be my own person.  He loves me and all-"
 
	Jace looked sceptical.  "He said that?" he interrupted.
 
	"Which?"
 
	"That he loved you."
 
	I nodded.
 
	"Shit," he said, with a low chuckle.  "Who said it first?"
 
	"I did."  Remember, Jonas, stick to the truth.
 
	"How long?"
 
	"How long what?"
 
	"How long had you two been going out?"
	
	"When I said it?  Two months."  Give or take a week, actually, but
I preferred to round things off to make myself sound organized.
 
	Jace didn't say a word to that, but kept looking at me, as if he
was trying to find something on me.  Or in me.  I wasn't sure which.
 
	"It was the way things were done," Jace said.  "The thing was, I
did care.  He was just starting to deal with being gay, and everything
scared him.  How his family would react, what his friends would think.
Know what I mean?"
 
	"No," I said, my voice dripping a few icicles.  "I have no idea."
 
	Jace snorted.  "Point taken."
 
	I found that the most difficult game a person can play is one where
the person has no idea what they're playing.  And, as usual, that was the
situation I found myself in.  Smart people can be stupid, too, though we
are loath to admit it.  What was I trying to find?  Absolution for Mike,
and the mistakes he made.
 
	Did, deep inside, I want to be in love with a perfect person?  An
ideal?
 
	I figured this was why I was often hard on myself.  I held myself
to standards that I could never hope to match, and I realized I was
starting to do the same to Mike.
 
	Accept him, a small voice inside me said.  And yourself.  Don't
expect perfection, and be happy with what's there.
 
	God, I was starting to get sick of all the voices in my head.
Especially when they're wiser than me, and especially when they sound like
Mom.
 
	"Why," I asked, finally getting a grasp on my reason for being
there.
 
	"Why what?"
 
	"You knew he was scared, and uncertain, and all of that," I said.
"Why hook up with him at all?"
 
	"It...I thought it was what he needed," Jace said, nodding.  "I
mean, what things balance all the crap you get for being gay?  In my head,
back then, it was just the way things worked, and how they were done."
 
	I cocked my head to the side.  Great, so there's a proper way of
doing things?  Then again, when did I ever fit in?"
 
	"The way what is done?"
 
	Jace let out a long sigh before talking.  "I was fifteen, he was
twenty-four.  I knew where Mike was coming from, since I had been there
myself at his age, and I dealt with it the only way I knew how."
 
	I pressed my back into my seat, as I lost focus on reality for a
moment.  Things made sense, now, and my first reaction was to immediately
wish they didn't.
 
	"Thank you."
 
	Those words actually startled Jace.  "What?"
 
	"For what you did to Mike.  Thank you."
 
	Robotically, Jace leaned forward, staring.  "Christ, Jonas, I knew
you were a weird kid, but have you gone fucking insane?  Did you really
hear about what I did to him?"
 
	I nodded slowly, trying not to muse on the irony.  "I know."
 
	"I sent your brother after him to get him away from me."
 
	"Please," I said, raising a hand.  "It was enough of a shock to
find out Shane actually has a conscience.  Any more would do real damage."
 
	"He ended up kicking my ass, instead."
 
	Damn.  Okay, this year, upgrade my brother's birthday present.
"Well," I said with a small grin.  "Didn't know that my brother straddled
the fence."
 
	"Not like /that,/ Jonas."
 
	I snorted.  "That wuss."
 
	"Weirdo."
 
	"So be it," I said.  "Thank you."
 
	"Why?" Jace said, the corners of his eyes creasing in rising
frustration.
 
	"Honest answer," I asked.  Fuck, I was on a roll already.  "Because
if it were me in Mike's place, and Mike had treated me the way you treated
him, I doubt Id' have...reacted well.  But, what happened, happened.  Jace,
you hurt Mike, and there's a part of me that wants to rip that earring out
of your eyebrow by hand.  But he's stronger now for what happened, and he's
wiser.  And most of all, he's been extra-careful with me."  I paused, to
pull out my wallet and place it on the table.  "And because he's being
careful, and is trying not to continue the cycle you pushed on him...that's
how I know he loves me."  I stood up.  "Okay, I'm done talking your ear
off, Jace.  I'll go get the bill and I'll be out of here."
 
	"Forget it," Jace whispered, his voice sounding scratchy, as if it
was hard for him to talk.  "This is on me, Jo.  Just go to him, okay?
Don't ever forget what you have."
 
	"Jace?  Dude, I-"
 
	"Forget it," he repeated.  "Just go.  Don't see me like this, and
if you tell him...just tell him I'm sorry, okay?"
 
	I sighed.  "I can't accept for him, and it's not me he needs to
hear it from," I said, then turned and walked out.
 
	And true to form, I started cursing myself as I was crossing the
parking lot.  The other thing I had wanted to do was pick up a little
something for Mike; Jewellery, or some funny little item to show that I was
thinking of him.
 
	But, at that point, my needs and wishes for him went beyond the
material.  I wanted to go to him, and be with him.  I wanted to feel his
body close to mine as I held him, and not say anything.  I just wanted to
be there for him and stroke his hair until he fell asleep in my arms.  I'd
watch over him, for once, until I fell asleep.
 
	The mere thought of it was starting to make me breathe fast.  I
quickened my pace, and wished I could just will myself to the bus stop, or
straight to Mike's house.  I didn't think I could stand it much longer.
 
	"Hey, Jonas!"
 
	I looked up from where I had my eyes firmly on the ground, along
with my manhood firm in my pants, and found Cohen standing about ten feet
away.  His brown hair looked a little dishevelled, as if he'd been standing
in the wind for too long.
 
	"Oh, hey," I said.  "Don't have long, Dan.  Need to catch the next
bus."
 
	Dan grimaced.  "Damn," he said.  "Needed a little help here."
 
	I walked towards him.  "With what?"
 
	He pointed to his dark blue car behind him.  "Car's got a flat," he
said, and I needed another person to work the jack while I got the spare
on."  He brightened, a little.  "When we're done, I can give you a lift, if
you want."
 
	I didn't really think about it.  It just seemed like the right
thing to do.  "Cool," I said, moving around him towards the car.  "Which
tire?"
 
	"Front right," Cohen said, falling into step behind me.
 
	Reaching the offending wheel, I knelt down beside the car to get a
better look.
 
	"Dan," I said.  "This tire doesn't look-"
 
	I didn't even get a chance to move, or even scream as Cohen put a
hand around my mouth, the other pushing me to my stomach on the blacktop.
I inhaled, trying to yell when a sweet, sickly taste filled my mouth and
nostrils
 
	The last thing I thought before my vision blurred and went dark,
was that what I was breathing smelled like that stuff you preserve animals
that are about to be dissected.
 
-End Chapter 7-