This material is
intended only for an adult audiences who wish to view it, and wherein
it is legal to do so at your age at your location in your
circumstances. This work is fictional and intended for
entertainment only. If you find
homosexual conduct offensive, are a minor, do not wish to view or read
such material, or it is illegal for you to do so, WTF are
you doing here? Put the browser down and back away. the f
Other stories are available at Ray's Stories
Thoughts and ideas welcomed at
I retain all rights and ownership of this material and grant Nifty Archive a non-exclusive, worldwide, royalty-free, perpetual, and non-cancelable license to display the work. You should donate and help keep them up and running.
the feedback page located here
The Final Chapter
I was stunned from the realization that we had ended up alone together, naked, hard, with a bed.
My heart hammered in my chest. I looked at him. He looked so... scared. And worried. Red-faced, red ears, his lips so red they looked like he was wearing lipstick. He stood there, naked and hard, his hands working and moving awkwardly, going nowhere. I was sure that he wanted to cover his privates, but knew it was too late to bother to do so. He looked at me then away, over and over.
I wished I knew what to say! Or anything to say! My guts were cold and shaking, like my muscles, and my brain. I waited for him to say what he had to say, hoping it wasn't that he wanted to leave.
"Did you know this was going to... they they were going to... that..." He kept looking at me and then away. Again and again. And he looked so uncomfortable and scared. Then I saw that he was shaking from head to feet. Really shaking! "That we were going to end up... in a room? Like this?"
His expression didn't change at all. He kept looking around. When he looked at the bed, probably by accident, he looked away really quickly. He looked around the room until he seemed to stare at the coffee table. I looked there to see why. There was a Mary Jane cigarette and a lighter lying next to the ashtray.
"I could use it," I said, then grabbed it.
It was only after I straightened up that I realized I had just given him the same view of me that we'd just had of Carl as he'd opened up the couch into a bed. I whipped around to see Mitch looking at my butt, now my penis, then his face and eyes shot upward to meet my eyes. He looked completely terrified. I felt that way myself, but seeing him looking like that also made me mad at Chet, Howie, and Carl for causing it.
"Uh, how about it?" I asked, holding up the cigarette and lighter, hoping that it would help relax him. And me.
He nodded vigorously. I sat down on the bed, put the cigarette into my mouth, shook out the blanket and covered myself with it from waist to knees. He sat down next to me and pulled part of the blanket over himself. I wished I hadn't done that, that we were still exposed next to each other. But I was also glad that I had.
I lit the thing and held the smoke as I handed it to him. We smoked the entire thing without saying a word. I tried to think of things to talk about, but sitting there naked, our laps covered by some of the blanket, there was only a very few things I could think about. How could I not think about those things when I had to look at his firm legs sticking out from under that blanket, and his flat tummy and smooth chest above it? I knew what was under that blanket. I'd seen it so often, in the locker room and showers, and then this evening. This evening I'd seen it in a new way - up close and totally hard.
His worried and scared expression on his completely handsome face kept reminding me that he was uncomfortable. And reminded me that I'd helped cause it.
We sat there in silence. I wanted to say something, anything, but I just didn't know what. I was scared. Like he looked. And worried. I knew that I couldn't blame Chet, Howie, and Carl alone. I felt like I had trapped him. I felt like a complete heel.
I wasn't even sure what I wanted to happen anymore. But my prick sure wanted it to happen! It was staying so hard! All that weird new kind of pressure above my prick was almost heavy now. The usual pressure behind my balls was there too. I guess all the erections the past few days had finally been too much and my body was just not able to handle it any longer. It needed to do what it was designed to do, and all the teasing and failed erections were too much. I was shaking, and not just from all of that - I was alone with Mitch! Naked! On a bed! Together! Oh, God!
I really wanted to have sex with him, but I wanted more than anything else to be his friend. I didn't want to make him uncomfortable or scared. Or hate me. Or be afraid of me. Or Chet or Howie or Carl.
And I really wanted to at least hold him. Just once. Just for a little bit.
But how can I? I thought, more afraid than I had felt for a long time. I was shaking all over. And my guts were churning in a bad way. I would have given up a nut right there and then if I just knew what to say so that we could leave that room as friends.
I ran all the talks with Chet and Howie over in my head. There'd been so much certainty that he was like us. Not certainty, but nearly so. He'd said things that made us think he was at least not a hater of homosexuals. He'd said things that made him seem like someone who might even be willing to experiment. I'd let hope grow.
I knew that right then, I could abandon all hopes, and tell him that I wasn't. That what had happened tonight was just normal stuff, and it didn't mean anything. That maybe Howie and Chet were, and maybe even Carl was, but I wasn't. That I didn't like him in that way, that I wasn't one of them, that I didn't hate Chet and Howie and Carl if they were. I could just tell him that we should get some sleep and play along with the three of them tomorrow, and it would all be over. That he could ignore me at school from now on if he wanted.
Or, I could tell him the truth, and see where it led. If he wanted to stop being friends, or if he would stay friends. If he would maybe let something happen, if I could start something that is, and if he might, just maybe, could be a queer too.
I forced myself to look at him. He looked scared and worried. And pale. And I saw him shaking. I felt myself shaking, too. My guts clenched even tighter. My mouth went dry. I couldn't breathe! I really couldn't! I had to force my lungs to draw in air.
I wanted to tell him, but it was so difficult! I needed to tell him. He deserved the truth. He was too special to lie to. And today had been all about seeing if he was a homosexual like us, or at least interested in trying some stuff if not.
Get some guts! I yelled at myself. I'm right here with Mitch! So close! I can't let him get away! I have to say I am. Even if nothing can happen, so long as he don't hate me. Damn it! I know he can't hate me if I am. He's been joking around and shit. He won't. And if he does, well... I'll worry about that if he does. He won't. Chet and Howie are almost sure he's okay with us being homosexuals. He really seems okay with it if we are.
So say it! But say what?
Hey, Mitch, I'm a homosexual, and I'm really sure I'm in love with you. Will you have queer sex with me?
Mitch, are you okay with me being a homosexual? Because I want you. I need you.
Mitch... Chet, Howie, and Carl, they arranged for this so that we could find out if you're a homosexual, like us.
God! No way!
I saw a way to at least start talking about it. I swallowed with real difficulty, faced him, and exhaled. I tried not to shake so much.
"You know, Chet, Howie, and Carl, they're really nice guys."
"Yeah." he said, looking at his hands in his lap.
"Uh, you know... uh, they're... uh..." Just say it! You chicken! "Uh... they're... uh..."
"Yeah, I know. Queer."
I tried to gauge his reaction, but he kept facing down, and all I saw was his profile. The heavy blush didn't tell me much.
"I... uh, don't care. You?" I asked.
He swallowed so hard I saw it and heard it. Then he said, almost too softly to hear, "No."
That was almost too good to be true! I'd at last found out that he knew that they hadn't been totally joking around, and really were homosexuals! And he hadn't asked to be taken home, and had even stayed! And he'd even played strip poker, and watched that film! And had even stayed in the room with me when Chet had pulled out the bed and left us alone together. Naked. Hard.
I wanted to say more, but I didn't know what to say. Knowing that he knew about the guys seemed to make it even harder to figure out what to say to him now.
He kept looking at his hands in his lap, the blanket covering if he was still hard too.
"Are you... a queer?"
My guts went even colder. My prick vanished inside of me, dragging my balls in with them.
There it was. The dreaded question. From Mitch. And we were both naked under the blanket. After having played strip poker with three other guys. And been boned up, all of us. And watched a pornographic movie, all together, naked. Boned up in full view. How could I deny it?
I hoped and prayed that he didn't look at me, and have a horrified expression. It seemed the only possibility, even though I had seen how he had acted all day and evening as Chet, Howie, and Carl had said and did so many things. And when I'd let my erection stick out of the robe. It all pointed at his not hating us, or what we were, and even hinted that he was interested, turned on, maybe even homosexual too.
But it was such a huge risk! I was about to try to tell someone, Mitch, that I was a queer. The first person. It was simply so difficult! So scary. So nearly impossible.
But I had to. If there was any chance that he was too, that we could be together, that I could have someone so wonderful as Mitch, then I just fucking had to do it!
He started sobbing. I felt my eyes grow instantly wet in response.
He can't cry! No way! Mitch is far too awesome to ever be allowed to feel bad enough to have to cry!
I had to stop it, somehow, some way. I threw my arm over his bare shoulder. He fell against me, shocking me entirely. Then he sobbed and put his hands over his face and shook all over.
"Oh, Mitch! Don't!"
"I... I... I can't help it!" he said around deep sobs, his body trembling heavily.
"Why? Is it because they're..."
He pushed me away harshly. He sat back and wiped at his eyes and sniffled, trying to stop the tears. I felt so awful! I needed to hold him!
"No!" he nearly screamed.
"Then what is it? Mitch. Please tell me!"
"I am!" he actually shouted.
He's trying to tell me? What? I wondered. What's so horrible that it makes him cry like this? Is it that he's afraid of us? No! Let it be almost anything but that!
He leaned forward over his lap and put his hands back over his face. He sobbed and cried. I couldn't stand it. It was too sad to allow! I grabbed him with both arms and jerked him to me, and wrapped my arms around him so tightly that he couldn't get out. Not unless he pulled one of his wrestling moves.
I couldn't stand thinking of him not wanting to be friends any longer. He was everything to me. I loved him in a way I had never felt before. I ached to be with him, but not if it made him hate me.
"I'm a queer!" he sobbed.
Everything stopped. In that moment, I saw myself from outside and above, looking down as I held him in my arms. I saw him shaking and sobbing, and I saw myself looking as if I'd just seen an angel rise from a grave and fly heavenward. Then I was swept back into myself in a rush. I could hear the sound of the air escaping my lungs and my blood rushing through my neck and head. And I felt his body against mine as it shook with his sobs.
That was my only thought.
It echoed in my brain, over and over. With each reverberation, it grew louder and clearer, and each time it sent a larger thrill through all through me.
But, why is he crying?
Then I remembered myself standing on a street corner, my bike at my feet, Chet's car behind him as he held me in his arms and told me that it wasn't anything bad, that I was fine, that he was, that Howie was, that others were, that I wasn't alone, that I would be fine.
"Mitch..." I waited until he looked up at me. "I'm one, too. I'm a queer."
His frightened and lonesome expression waned, part of it replaced by an almost yearning one.
"Mitch. Don't be sad about it. Please don't."
I held onto him even tighter.
"How can I not be?" he sobbed.
I knew what he meant. I'd stood on a street corner, crying in broad daylight, as Chet had held me while I came to grips with it. I wanted more than anything to be there for Mitch right then. I simply had to be. Nothing else mattered. I thought of that day two weeks ago, and remembered the things that Chet had told me.
"It's okay. It will be. You're not alone. You know that now. Chet and Howie and Carl will help any way they can. And I'll do anything to help you out. Absolutely anything."
"But I'm a queer!" he nearly wailed.
"So is Chet. Howie. Carl. And so are others. And... so am I. You're not alone. You never have to be. We'll all help you out, give you advice, be your friends."
"What about my other friends? At school?"
"They don't have to know. They like you. They like who you are. Just be the guy they know. You can be the guy we know with Chet and Howie and Carl and me. And the others."
"What about my folks!"
He sobbed even heavier.
"They don't have to know. Not until you move out and live on your own. Not even then if you don't want. That's up to you. They'll love you anyway."
He shook in my arms. I held him as tightly as I could. I cried into his hair. I tried to be strong for him.
He cried for quite a few minutes before he calmed down and looked up at me again. He wasn't nearly as cute as usual, not with red-rimmed, moist eyes and that awful expression.
"I just... I don't know what to do!"
"Neither did I. Chet said to just go on like nothing's changed. Be friends with your friends, and live your life."
He looked so lost. Alone. Scared. Needing.
"It'll be okay. I learned it can be okay. We're not monsters. We won't grow up to hurt or kidnap kids. We won't be bad people."
"No. Maybe some homosexuals are bad people, but so are a lot of heterosexuals. More, really, if you think about it. People are people. If they like guys or girls, they'll do good things or bad things, depending on what kind of person they are. Not on if they like guys or girls."
He seemed to think it over, and seemed to be less frightened and upset. And he looked so much better.
I loosened my grip of him and pushed his hair back with my fingers. He shivered once, in that post-tears way. He sniffled and wiped his eyes a last time.
"I'm such a girl," he said, sounding angry.
"No, you're such a guy. And such a guy." I remembered something Chet had said to me on that street corner. "It'd be so sad to waste you on girls."
He laughed, which I was so very glad to see! We looked at each other, into each others eyes. His hand touched my arm and slid up to my shoulder. That sent raging tingles all around my body.
He was touching me!
His fingers lightly ran along my shoulder to my neck, then along in front to the middle of my chest, then down to the center between my nipples. He watched it as it moved across my skin, sending those raging tingles into overdrive.
"Jer? I've... ever since the first few days of school, when I really thought you were, you know... looking at me-"
"I was!" I said suddenly. "Mitch, I really was!"
He laughed and looked back into my eyes. I loved it.
"You..." He sighed really deeply. "The first day of school, when I walked into homeroom..." He sighed again. "When I saw you... I saw how you looked at me."
He looked so scared! And he was shaking so hard! And at his words, I did too! Like mad! My jaw slammed my teeth together several times.
"I saw... I saw how... you looked at me."
I was humiliated again.
"I knew... no, I didn't know. I wished. I fucking wished. I hoped."
"Every day, I saw. I thought I only wanted to see it. But, then Howie... and when we wrestled in front of you, and he... he pretty much put his hand up my shorts... Then yesterday we wrestled some more, and he, uh... he, um... he put his hand... um..." He looked at me. He smiled a little bit. "I was sort of sure he was. I was sort of sure he was, like, coming on to me." He looked at me again, and I wished I knew what to say. "Then... tonight!"
He looked away, back down at the floor or the bed or somewhere.
"Ever since then, and I let myself wish..." He sighed and looked back into my eyes. He smiled a little more. "I've always wanted to..." I could tell that he was trying to force himself to say something, so I waited. "I've, always, just once, wanted... to... to kiss you."
The muscles inside my guts wrenched so powerfully that I jerked all over.
"Does that make you think I'm... that-"
"It makes me think about kissing you," I said, and snickered.
"Oh, yeah. Mitch. I really was looking. At school. I mean, even that first day! You walked in looking so... just so... perfect!"
He laughed and finally started looking like the Mitch I loved again. His eyes sparkled again.
"Every day, I tried not to look, or get caught looking, but I couldn't stop it!"
He laughed again, and looked even more like the Mitch I loved.
"And in gym! Oh, God!"
We laughed, and he sort of cuddled up to me and hugged me back with his head against my shoulder.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you after I saw you in gym. Even before we started changing or showering," he said softly.
"Me either. And when I finally got to see you... out of your clothes."
"Oh, gosh! Me too! You were so beautiful!"
"No way! You were!"
He laughed and snuggled up to me even tighter. It was awesome! So warm and soft, and just... Oh, God! Entirely new kinds of tingles raged all through me. They were similar to the ones during sex and such, but were warmer and softer and fuzzy and even more wonderful.
My guts swirled again. So powerfully that I almost flinched again. My voice shook as I said, "I want to."
He raised his head and looked at me. He was just inches away! And he was shivering in my arms. And he leaned closer, looking into my eyes until he closed them. I closed mine at the last moment, and our lips touched.
There just aren't any words for it. I saw why some people say they heard or felt fireworks going off, but that isn't even close! It was like an earthquake inside of me. And a hurricane. And a tornado. And landslides and fires and floods. And cowboys chasing Indians, and cops chasing robbers, and entire legions of soldiers in raging combat. Cannons fired, tanks rolled, buildings exploded into flames as bombs rained down on them from the planes roaring overhead.
And flowers bloomed under a warm spring sun. And a gentle rain fell on a lazy creek. And waves gently lapped at a sandy beach. And birds chirped their songs into a warm breeze.
And I fell entirely in love with Mitch as he melted against me and I melted against him, our lips melded together, our breaths mixing.
It lasted for a split second, and for a thousand hours.
And when it was over, and our lips separated, and our eyes opened, he was smiling a smile that melted what remained of my heart. And he hugged me tighter, and snuggled tightly against me, and returned his lips to mine.
And I felt him shaking again. But I could tell that this time he wasn't so scared and horrified. He squeezed me tighter, and I tightened my arms around him. It was so warm and cozy and comfortable. So wonderful. So... perfect.
I cried, silently, and not from fear or grief, or horror or pain, but from sheer joy and simple relief. No whines, no gut-wrenching sobs. Just quiet tears that ran down my cheeks and past my smiling lips.
We sat there for so long in silence that I wondered if he had fallen asleep. But then he stirred. He pulled away just a little bit, then smiled at me. He sat up straighter, meeting me eye to eye. He smiled so nicely. I was so warm! All over, inside and out. And I could have just screamed out in pure bliss.
He suddenly yawned. I recognized the sleepy effect of coming down from the Mary Jane in myself. I glanced at the clock and saw it was almost three in the morning. I knew I couldn't fight it, and I knew he couldn't either. We could try, and I wanted to. I wanted to talk with him all night. I wanted to spend the next hours having glorious sex with him. I wanted to touch him, feel him, smell him, taste him, be with him. All night long. But I could barely keep my eyes open. I knew from his sleepy expression and with what he had just been through, that he was probably both mentally and physically worn out as much as I was.
"I'm so tired," he said. "I want to stay awake all night, with you, but... I feel like I've been awake for days. So fucking tired."
"Come on, Mitch. Let's get some sleep."
We slid up the bed, pulling the blanket with us. We put the pillows close together and faced each other, moved closer together under the blanket, and held hands. We looked at each other, grinning.
I'd never felt so warm and cozy. Not even with Howie on one side of me and Chet on the other, exhausted from repeated sex, drifting to sleep together. This was far better, even though no sex was involved. It was Mitch, and I'd trade an entire weekend of sex with Howie and Chet for one hour alone with Mitch.
We kept snuggling closer together, until we couldn't be any closer. Our bodies touched from toes to chest. Our arms were around each other. Our eyes stayed locked together. We kissed, snickering and giggling.
Our eyes grew heavier, were open less, until they remained closed.
* * *
I woke up with a start. I didn't feel like I was in my own bed. It was disorientating in the extreme. Then I opened my eyes and saw Mitch's adorable sleeping face. I grinned really widely. I felt warm and fuzzy all over. I even shivered in pure joy. My arms were around him, his around me, and we were touching from chest to toes, our legs almost intertwined.
It was so exquisite. That word always seemed sissy and girly to me, but in that moment, it was perfect. The moment was perfect.
Then it was ruined when Mitch mumbled, "No! I'm not like that!" and his face took on a hurt and scared expression. I was shocked. I watched as he experienced his nightmare. He was being teased and humiliated, probably at school. That couldn't be allowed, in real life or even in a dream.
I wrapped my arms more tightly around him and whispered, "Mitch, forget them. It's a bad dream. Forget it. You're with me. It's Jeremy. You're safe and sound. It's all right."
He seemed to calm, and his body seemed to relax. Best of all, his expression slackened and smoothed, and became peaceful again.
"I'm right here, Mitch. You're fine."
He opened his eyes, right into mine. He blinked and tensed.
"It's okay. I'm right here," I said softly. "Everything is fine."
He smiled, then kissed me. And kissed me. And held me. And pressed himself into me. It was, well, exquisite!
And of course, things stirred. He giggled and stopped kissing long enough to look at me and smile. Then he kissed me again. Our hands began roaming. His warm, smooth skin felt like the finest silk. The slightest touch of his hands on me were like live electrical wires. I felt his erection building, pressing against my thigh as my own did the same to his thigh. Soon, we were wiggling them between us and giggling. Not to mention panting and kissing and touching.
"Oh, God, Jer," he panted several times.
I said much the same, using his name, as we kissed and writhed together. That pressure built along with the tingles and thrills. Our breaths came faster and louder around the increasingly heavier kisses. I'd heard of french kissing, and had wondered what it was like. I'd wondered if I would ever have someone I would want to with. I knew it was using your tongue, but not exactly how, so I experimented by licking his lips. He did the same. Soon we were touching the tips of our tongues together. His tongue on mine was so soft and pliable! It was amazing!
By then I felt wetness between us. I knew at least some of it was mine. We moved our hips together, crushing our erections between us, against one another's. And I felt his nuts hanging down a little to rub against mine between us! It was wildly erotic! My cock was touching his! Mitch's! Mitch's erection! It was touching my skin, and rubbing against my erection! His balls were rubbing up against mine! Oh, God!
I felt myself shiver all over, and I felt him do the same. That weird pressure inside and above my cock was growing fast. I didn't care. I wasn't going to do anything that would ruin what was the most incredible moment of my life! I hated the thought of having an accident against him, and seeming like a little virgin, but stopping was out of the question! It would have taken a team of Clydesdales to pull me away from him!
"Oh, God!" he panted, deeply and heavily. "Ohhh... God! Jer!"
I moaned his name, loving how it sounded on my lips.
I was hugging and kissing Mitch! And our erections were sliding between us, and our balls were crushed together between us, and our arms were around each other. Oh, God!
"Jer... wait... I'm... oh, God!"
I felt it. I knew it was happening. He was shivering, then his body tensed, then his breathing stopped. He crushed me in his arms, and pressed his pulsing, throbbing, hot erection against my hip next to my own erection, and I felt the warm wetness. He barely grunted, almost inaudibly, in time with his orgasm. He held me so tightly that it was hard to breathe. But I wasn't breathing, anyway. Knowing that he was ejaculating his semen between us, that his prick was shooting it onto my skin, next to my prick, sent that weird pressure above and behind my penis so high that I was suddenly unloading what felt like my very first orgasm multiplied by a thousand.
I'd been jerked off by Chet one time so well and for so long that I'd thought I was shooting hot lead when he finally allowed me to cum. I'd been given a long, slow blow-job that made me feel like I was shooting everything inside my balls into Chet's mouth. I'd been sucked off while Chet toyed with my prostate and thought that my testicles and penis were turning inside-out. I'd fucked Chet and Howie at the same time and thought a volcano was erupting between my legs. I'd been stroked off so slowly and gently while blindfolded that I thought hot oatmeal was being forced through my urethra under high pressure. I'd had orgasms that were beyond what I had thought were humanly possible to feel. I'd felt orgasmic bliss that I thought would overload the human nervous system. But none of it was anything like what I experienced in Mitch's arms as we both came.
Chet and Howe were friends, and I liked them a great deal, but I loved Mitch. And it had been days since I'd had an orgasm, during which I'd been teased and frequently erect.
And now, it was all released, as he came on me, shaking in my arms. It was unbearably powerful, and incredibly wonderful. That weird pressure above my prick swelled and pushed through my prick, expanding my urethra as it flowed with my semen onto Mitch's body. It was painfully powerful. The usual pressure behind my balls as I had an orgasm was multiplied many times after days of abstinence and erections. The heavy pulses behind my scrotum seemed strong enough to suck the Great Lakes dry. And it felt like I was expelling the entire contents of those lakes onto Mitch.
I didn't breathe at all. I couldn't even move a muscle. Every one was tight and rigid, tense and hard. The side of my face was pressed tightly to the side of his face. My chest was tightly against his. My belly and hips against his. Our legs around each others. And our erections were dancing between us.
It was an eternity of silence. And eon of bliss. An age of ecstasy.
I was dizzy. Whirling endlessly in darkness. My body twisted by the forces as it spun. I didn't know where I was, only that I was with Mitch. And that was all that mattered.
Then I sucked in air, and the spinning slowed, and the dizziness abated, and my body adjusted and settled, and I was alive. More alive than I knew I could be.
I felt how we shivered slightly together, how we sucked in air together, then exhaled loudly together. Our pricks pulsed and wiggled between us. Mine felt as if it were roasting on a fire. And his felt so very hot against my skin. Our semen combined and ran down between us, ticking and cooling.
I felt something new, lying there with him like that. It was pure contentment. A feeling of having done something so wonderful, that there was nothing left to experience. Except more of the same, wonderful... exquisite joy.
"Oh, God! Jer! Ohhh, God!" he whispered in my ear, still shivering and panting.
I could hear his happiness in his soft, low voice. It made me feel even more wonderful.
I hoped that he could sense my joy as well. I tried to express it through my voice, but then attempted to do so through my body as well by cradling the back of his head with one hand and wrapping my other arm clear around him, and pulling us even more tightly together. We panted heavily, and shuddered powerfully.
Soon, our hands were gently rubbing hot, damp skin, feeling the muscles trembling in each other. Then we moved only enough to kiss again.
"Oh, God, Jeremy."
He shivered heavily against me again. He tried to squeeze himself into me, as if he wanted to become one body. I had no problems with that at all!'
There was only one word that expressed how I felt right then. I uttered it softly and gently into his ear.
We kissed and touched in silence then, our breaths slowing over time. Somehow, at some point, some minutes later, I drifted to sleep.
* * *
I woke up because the bed had moved. I wasn't used to that at all! When I was a kid, I'd had a dog we allowed inside and he slept in my bed with me. I'd gotten used to that, and his moving at night. But that had been years ago, and for a while it had been hard to sleep without him in the bed with me.
So now, when I felt the bed move, I immediately thought of Ranger. I almost called his name before I remembered that he had died a long time ago. I popped my eyes open and saw Mitch waking toward the door. The lights were still on, and he was still naked, so it was one fantastic sight!
He slowly opened the door and sneaked out, not quite closing it behind him. I hoped he wasn't trying to leave. I worried that maybe he was going to go sleep somewhere else. Then I worried that he was going to go be with Chet and Howie. Then I remembered Carl saying what he had about asking him if we needed any help, so I worried that he had gone to Carl's room to be with him.
I propped myself up a little on one elbow and wondered. I waited. Pretty soon, I had to go find out. I got out of the bed and walked into the other room, trying to see if he was in there before he could see me. He wasn't. The light by the stairs was on, and I could see that Mitch wasn't anywhere in there. I went up the stairs. I wondered if I should find something to put on, but decided that they were probably all asleep anyway, so I kept going.
The bathroom door was closed, and I could see the light was on through the crack under the door. I didn't want to listen at the door, mostly because I didn't want him to open it and find me there like some pervert or something. And I didn't want to hear what he was doing anyway.
I went back downstairs and waited. I waited for what seemed a really long time. I had to know if he'd gone to one of their rooms. I had to. So I went back upstairs. The bathroom door was still closed and the light still shone under it. I crept up to it and listened, hoping to God that he didn't suddenly open the door.
I heard him crying. Softly, but crying.
That wasn't right. It was just so wrong! There was no good excuse for him to be that sad! He should always be happy and smiling! Never crying! Especially not now! Not now that we both knew, and we'd been together, and could be together again and again.
I knocked really softly. I heard him sniffle, then ask, "What?"
"Everything okay?" I asked softly.
"Yeah. Go back."
He was trying to sound normal, but I could hear his emotions in his voice. I didn't know what to say, but I couldn't leave him there like that.
"I'll be out in a minute," he said.
"Okay. Um... I don't have to use it. I just wondered if you were okay."
"I'm fine. I'll be back in a minute."
He didn't sound fine at all. And it was just not right. It bothered me too much. And I wasn't going to do nothing about it. I wasn't going to do nothing about anything ever again.
"Let me in."
"Let me in."
"Why? You said you didn't have to use it."
"I want to talk to you."
"In the can?"
"Then come back downstairs."
"I will in a minute," he said more forcefully.
"I'm waiting right here."
"Just come out."
"If you don't, I'll knock really loudly and yell your name until the guys come see what's up."
"Don't. I'll be down in a minute!" he hissed.
"Then let me in."
I heard movement, then the door opened. He turned off the light and stepped out. The hall was fairly dark, but I could see that he'd been crying hard. He tried to look normal, even smiled a little, but there was no hiding it.
His nakedness didn't matter right then. Not at all. Nor mine. Not at all. Only what was bothering him mattered. And it had to end. I had to do something about it.
"What's wrong? And if you say nothing, I'll get pissed."
He sighed, walked past me, and kept going. I caught up to him and walked next to him, looking at his face. He tried to keep acting normal and ignored me.
When we got downstairs, he sat down in a chair at the table. I sat down next to him. I saw his naked body, but it just didn't matter right then.
"Okay, what's wrong?"
He finally looked at me. He waited a few seconds, trying to look calm and collected, but I saw how messed up he was. That really bothered me. Like nothing ever had before. I reached out and put my hand on his arm and looked back at him, eye to eye, and waited.
He sighed again, then nearly pouted into more tears.
"What?" I asked insistently.
"I'm queer," he said softly, his voice breaking, and his entire face contorting with his emotion.
"I am too. We covered this."
"Fuck you!" His anger was real and powerful. "And what do you fucking care anyway?"
"I love you, you asshole."
I hadn't meant to say that at all! I felt how wide my eyes went. His did, too.
"What?" he asked me, staring at me, his mouth hanging open after asking the question.
"I..." Fuck it. I said it. I mean it. I really mean it! "I love you."
I don't know what he tried to say, but he tried. He just couldn't, though. I could see his fright and his worry. I understood it fully. I'd been there just a couple of weeks ago. It had hurt, and been nearly unbearable. And knowing that he was going through it was nearly as bad. And it couldn't be allowed. He deserved to be happy, not sad. I knew he needed someone, and I wanted to be that person for him so badly that I ached to. And thanks to Chet and Howie, I knew what he needed.
"I spent years wondering what I was feeling. Scared of it, even. Then Chet made me face it. I spent a week afraid of what I was. Then I spent another week knowing it, but afraid of it. Afraid you'd hate me for it. Scared to fucking death that I'd lose even being your friend."
He didn't try to say anything, but I saw his mind turning over rapidly. His expression was locked onto disbelief and shock.
"I spent two weeks dealing with it. I know you've just gotten started, but damn it, I won't let you be like I was. I won't let you be scared and worried sick. I won't have you feeling alone. I fucking won't let you be sad and scared and fucked up. I fucking won't!"
Surprise took over his face. And something else that I didn't recognize.
"I fucking fell in love with you, Mitch. You're the most perfect guy I've ever seen. And I hoped and dreamed and wished and prayed that you were like me. Like Chet and Howie and Carl. I fucking actually prayed that you were!"
I saw him breathing faster now as his expression took on more of that strange set. I didn't have time to wonder what it was. I'd gotten started, and I wasn't going to stop. I'd wanted to tell him for so long, and now was my big chance. I would have fought off the biggest jocks in school at that moment to get to him to tell him what I was feeling. Nothing was big enough to get in my way.
"I don't know how or why we're like this. That don't even matter. We are. You're so handsome that I don't know how every girl in school isn't after you. And I know when you meet the other guys I'm going to have to fight to keep them off you. And I will! I'm not going to let them even close to you! If you end up liking one of them instead of me, I'd hate that more than anything, but that's the only way I'll let any of them near you."
He was almost panting now. So was I, but it was from talking so fast and so much. I didn't have time to wonder why he was.
"I won't try to make you like me, I won't. But, oh, God! Mitch! I can't help how I feel about you! It's like you were made custom to order for me. Like I'd filled out a Sears mail-order form with everything I wanted in a guy and you came special delivery on the first day of school. When you walked in, I honestly thought I was going to die! You were just so... everything I wanted and didn't even know I did! So handsome! So perfect. So cute! And your voice! And how you gestured with your hands. And you liked baseball and wanted to join the team! It was too perfect! And then you were in my gym class! And I saw how you looked... well... what you're built like. So perfect! All over! It was pure hell to have to see that! To have to get undressed next to you! See you in the showers! And those days inside, doing sit-ups and stuff! I thought I was being teased by God! Shown perfection and being tested! Oh, God! Then... then tonight. And you stayed over. And we talked, and... you're... like me. It's..."
He started bawling like a little kid! I started up instantly. I wiped at my eyes and hoped he didn't hate me now.
"Sorry," I said between sniffles. "I just-"
"Shut up," he said firmly, cutting me off.
"I'm sorry, Mitch. I didn't mean to talk like a Chatty Kathy or something. It's just, you're so... wonderful. Even if you don't like me like that, or as much-"
"Shut up," he said cutting me off again.
"I'm sorry," I almost whispered.
I was, too. I hadn't meant to pour out my guts. I'd just wanted to make him feel better, and instead, I'd obviously made him feel worse. I wanted to take it all back and just go somewhere and die and get out of his way.
"Sorry," I said again, wiping at my eyes, unable to look at him anymore.
"Stop it. Don't say that," he said, sounding frustrated.
"I didn't mean to. It just all came out. Like some stupid sap. I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I mean... it was nice. I... it was really nice, Jer."
"Jer. Just shut up. It was. Knowing you're like me, that someone so wonderful can be like me... someone so wonderful can like me like that..."
He sniffled and sobbed once. I hated that I'd made him sad again. I wanted to cheer him up somehow, so badly, but I was afraid I would only make it worse.
"I wish I was good enough for you," he said sadly.
Good enough for me? What the hell did that mean?
I looked at him finally. He looked so sad and hurt. Scared and worried. And that fired me up again. It just couldn't be allowed! Ever!
"You are! Damn it, Mitch! You're too good for me!"
"No, I'm not. Howie told me how great a guy you are. I always thought so anyway. So I know how you're so strong and shit. How you dealt with it so easy. How you can handle it. I never will."
"Howie said what?" I asked.
"He told me how well you dealt with it when you figured it out. We talked a lot about how to figure out if you were... you know... interested in me."
My stomach whirled.
"He helped me out. He planned all kinds of stuff. How to talk with you, about things. Mentioning stuff. Even coming to Carl's. He said after how he and Chet were going to talk in front of you, how you'd either want to come stay over, or wouldn't. How it would tell us if you were... interested."
He shrugged at me, looking apologetic.
"He did? What else did he do? Say?"
"He and Chet sort of planned this. So we'd find out if you were... you know..."
"Okay, wait a fucking second. Howie talked to you about me? He said he could help you find out if I was like him and Chet?"
"Yeah?" he sort of answered, looking a bit worried.
I tried not to seem upset as I continued.
"So, Howie talked to you about... being... like him and Chet?"
"When we were wrestling the last couple of days. He sort of figured out about me. You know. He kept, well..."
"You know. Touching me."
"So, he groped you, and figured out that you... uh, didn't mind. So, what? Did he end up asking you if you were?"
"No. Um... he sort of... he grabbed me one time. I was," he blushed, "hard, you know. And, I just knew he was going to, well, try to start something."
"I stopped him."
He blushed even darker before he answered with, "I wanted to with you. Not him."
Now I blushed.
"So," I asked, "Howie worked with Chet and you to find out if I was?"
I laughed. He seemed puzzled.
"They played us," I said. "They did the same thing with both of us."
"Jerks!" he said, laughing.
I was so glad to see him smiling and laughing!
"I'm so glad they did, Mitch. I really want to be with you."
His expression changed again, now to fear.
"What?" I asked.
"I can't. What if my folks find out? I just can't! I'll always be a fucking coward. I'll always be alone. I'll never have anyone as good as you. You deserve way better than I'll ever be."
"I can't do this. I'm not like you. I don't have your guts. Just don't bother with me. I'm not worth it."
He looked at me then, shocked. I hadn't meant to nearly scream it, but I had.
"I don't want anyone else! I want you!"
"Why?" he asked, nearing tears again. "Why me? I'm so..."
"Stop it. I'm not. I'm not worth your time. You don't want to be around me. Just leave me alone. Especially at school."
"I'll sit somewhere else, and skip out on the team, and we can just go our own ways."
I had meant to shout it that time.
"You don't want everyone to know you know the homosexual."
"Yes, I do!"
"No, you don't."
"Don't tell me what I want! I want to be friends! At least be friends!"
"No. I'm too much of a coward. I can't do this."
He was crying again. Not so heavily, but still very deeply. I couldn't stand that! I thought of the things Chet and Howie and said to me to help me. I had to help him, I just had to!
"I was too! At first I just wanted to hide from it! I wanted things to go back the way they were. I wanted to be normal, and like girls, and not be a homosexual. But then I saw you."
He looked back at me again. His hurt expression was painful to see. It was wrong!
"I saw the cutest guy I'd ever seen. And I felt something that I didn't understand. I only knew I couldn't stop thinking about you. But it took a while, and I understood, and I got over what I was. It took you to help me with that. And you didn't even know it."
"Hell, yes! And you only tonight started to really know about yourself. So you need some time to deal with it. And I'm going to help you every second of every day until you do."
"I will. I love you, you ass. I can't stand thinking of not being your friend. I'd want to die. I want to be way more than your friend, but that's up to you. For now, just let me be your friend. Let me be there for you, like Chet and Howie were for me. Let me help you all I can. Please."
He looked at me for a few seconds, wiped at his tears, then asked, "What if we get found out?"
"Then we'll worry about that then. But I don't think we will. Carl never did. The other guys never did. They know how to keep it private. They'll show you how. And even if we did, I won't care, not so long as we're together."
"You'd even stay... friends, or whatever, even if we were found out?"
"Hell yes! Nothing would make me stay away from you! Nothing!"
He looked so surprised! Stunned, really. And as if he could almost bear it all.
"I love you, Mitch. I love everything about you. I've never loved anyone like I do you. I can't stop thinking about you. I hear your voice in my sleep. I dream about you. I wake up and think about you. I think about you when I go to sleep. I don't even really look at other guys, just think about you."
"Oh, God," he sighed softly. "You really do?"
"I do, Mitch. All the time. I really would just have to dry up and blow away if you hated me. Or if we weren't friends anymore. It would be so hard, and hurt so much, I'd have to die. But, oh, God, Mitch! I want nothing more than to be with you!"
"Oh, God, Jer! I feel like that, too! I can't stop thinking about you! Ever since I saw how you looked at me that first day of school! I'd never felt anything for a guy before, just... I just... I just thought about and wanted to have sex with 'em. Until you looked at me like that. And... it was like... a switch turned on inside me. And I just... it was the hardest thing I'd ever done to sit there where my name was put on that desk, right near you, and talk to you. But I had to know who you were! I fucking had to!" He was smiling now. And that was so much better! But then he looked scared again. "I just... it's... I mean... how..." he sighed sadly and looked right at me. "What's... next?"
I wanted to hold him, and talk, and reassure him that it would all be okay. I had to show him that he could be safe and sound. I had to show him how to learn to be comfortable with who he was. I had to show him how to be happy with himself. And in addition to what Chet and Howie had shown me, I had to show him that I loved him.
I wanted to do all of those things for him. And more. And I was going to do whatever it required. And I would do it happily.
I reached out and gently took his hand. I stood up, smiling at him as I waited. He smiled, then stood. Our nakedness didn't matter. We walked into that backroom, arm in arm, smiling at each other, and in love.
Yes, that's the end. The real Jeremy and I feel we've taken the story to the logical and desired end, and telling any more would be beating a dead horse. LOL.
Jeremy feels there isn't anything more to tell, and is ready to hang up his story-telling hat and return to his normal life. He wants to say thanks first, to everyone who wrote with such nice words. And he wanted me to answer a few questions that were commonly asked.
1) The first chapter is real, and exactly as it occurred. Though I had to create much of the dialog from what little he remembered. The next two chapters are almost entirely true. The following chapters are almost entirely fictional.
2) Chet and Howie did take him to a motel after the advanced swimming lesson class two weeks later, and that hotel stay was something like what was told in a later chapter, but not exactly. After that stay at the hotel, Jeremy didn't do anything much else with Chet or Howie.
3) Chet and Howie treated Jeremy very well in public, and at school, talking to him and spending time with him, mostly working on baseball skills and such.
4) The poker parties on the weekends were pure fiction, though half of the guys were actually ones found by Chet and Howie and the others and introduced to Jeremy over the course of several weeks. The rest of the guys at the poker parties were fictional.
5) Jeremy was introduced to a very few others that Chet and Howie discovered, and Jeremy did mess around with them, though Jeremy didn't have any real feelings for any of them. Not until his junior year, then he found a freshman named Ray and they hit it off in a big way. Maybe we will do that story some day.
6) Mitch was Jeremy's crush, and looked much as described, but was not gay, or even open. Jeremy took Chet and Howie's advice and talked to him a few times about homosexuals, and Mitch made it pretty clear that he thought they were mentally deranged and should be given electro-shock and therapy along with medications to help them get 'cured'. Nothing ever happened with Mitch.
7) Jeremy did go out with two girls in high school, never 'went steady' with them, and never 'went all the way' with them. He used the 'I'm waiting for the girl I want to marry' line.
8) Jeremy sort of followed in Chet and Howie's footsteps, and kept an eye out for incoming freshmen. So did some of the other gay guys. Jeremy looked for guys who seemed interested or who 'boned up' in the gym showers, or who 'boned up' when he helped them with baseball skills. He found seven before graduating. After one close-call at being discovered, he was very careful afterward. However, he wishes he had been more thorough, and wonders if some of those he passed up trying harder with were simply more hesitant, more shy, or more cautious.
9) The real Chet and Howie stayed with each other until many years later, even sticking together through college. At college, they continued hunting up other guy students in the hopes of preventing something not told of in this story. I expect we will cover that as a one-chapter story some time in the future. They stayed together until their mid-thirties and are still friends, and have read the entire story. They love it.
10) The real Jeremy currently lives in Texas and is happily involved with a wonderful guy named Phil. They've been together for seventeen years now. They are both in their sixties. Phil loves the story, and we are working on his First Time Tale. You can send the real Jeremy a message through the feedback page. Don't expect a reply from him, though, he's not very good with emails, and I phone him up and read them to him. I'm honored and mostly amazed he bothered to contact me. I'm also very grateful he did. I will gladly reply, though, and if he wants, add whatever he cares to add.
So, a huge thanks to you all, from "Jeremy" and myself. We've enjoyed the messages and we both want you all to know that. If you come across this story some time after it's initial publication and want to drop a line, don't hesitate and go right ahead. I'll always be glad to phone up "Jeremy" and read it to him.
Thoughts and ideas welcomed at the feedback page located here
More stories, poems, and ramblings at Ray's Stories
Click here to show up on my visitor map
And don't forget to support Nifty! http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html