Journal of a Teen (t/t, mast)
(Email to Junkfile@Comcast.net)
< This is a tale of a homosexual nature involving two teens. If this is not your style stop reading - if it is hope you enjoy. This is after all fiction - no one was used, abused, or covered in chocolate. Take it for what it is fantasy...nothing more nothing less. If you are looking for a JO story or lots of hot action move to another tale -- this is one of friendship and love not sex. >
< The author gives Nifty Archive full rights to this story. >
Journal of a Teen
My senses were alive. I could feel the cold sting of rain across my cheek, ice-cold metal pressing my hands, and my ears were abuzz with the sound of traffic below me. Yup, that's me senses alive but I felt dead inside - so dead inside that I was hanging onto a guardrail preparing to leap into traffic. Not three days from my 16th birthday and all I wanted was to die. I was slowly counting down in my head - 20, 19, 18, 17... counting toward the end of my pain. Watching cars wiz by not caring whose life I'd fuck up when I landed. I thought of what lead me to this point...this point of no return...this time for me to end my pain...
I've always kept my feelings bottled up inside, building up until I was ready to explode, I don't know why I do this but I do. Well I did, that is until I started keeping a journal of my thoughts and feelings. For once instead of building up and up I was able to purge feelings by placing them on paper. Every evening alone in my room I'd write down my deepest feelings, my thoughts, and at times a running log of my day.
I'm Aaron by the way, almost 16 and have finally admitted to myself that I was gay. I'm scared and ashamed of these feelings sometimes but try as I may I cannot make them vanish. I hope and pray every night that I would change but my feelings for guys got stronger and stronger. I guess I gave up on fooling myself, I couldn't change and needed to live with that. Unfortunately my false sense of "accepting" who I was might misguided and ended up with me all confused.
I live in a nice area, not too city and not too country. I have lived in the same house for my entire life with my dad. My mom left us to "find herself" when I was six and I guess she was still "lost" because we haven't heard from her since. My best friend is Andrew - Andy to everyone, I've known him since kindergarten almost nine years.
We are "like peas and carrots" as Forrest Gump would put it. Spending summers together - either me on vacation with his family or Andy with mine. Andy was a little taller than me standing about 5'9". We both ran track at school and stayed very active. Andy had Yellow blond hair and seemed to always have a tan where as I had black hair and burned in the sun. We hung around together and our minds -- well his mind always seemed to be on some girl in school. Boy did he love to talk about the girls...Anne this, Debbie that... I would listen and wish I could be like him. I played along, but when I was talking about liking this girl or that girl I was really thinking about Andy.
We are both in the ninth grade and though we go to the same highschool we aren't in any classes together, but we see each other at lunch.
I discovered masturbation around eleven or so and rushed over to share my discovery with Andy -- to my surprise he had known about this for a little while. I remember being pissed that he didn't tell or show me but oh well. I felt love for Andy, not lust but love and yes I know the difference. The first feelings for him were early on, we had never done anything together but when I jerked off all I could think about was him.
Under the covers at night I would fondle my nuts with one hand while slowly stroking my young cock with the other, all this while pictures of Andy were dancing in my head. I just love the feelings I can give myself -- the slow pressure as my cock fills with blood -- my nuts bouncing up and down, and most of all the sound of my breathing turned me on to no end.
As I lay there I thought of Andy's body, I had seen him naked while we changed but never aroused. I wanted to see him in my bed hard and begging me to suck him. I had never sucked on a penis before but I knew I wanted to, I wanted to with all my being.
Staring at my cock I imagined it was Andy's. My minds eye could see me licking the head, tasting his pre-cum -- tasting what he was making just for me. As I sucked on my finger pretending it was him my hips were bucking up to meet my fist. I could feel my balls pulling tight against me and that wonderful pressure built at the base of my rod.
"Oh shit," I moaned shooting several globs onto my stomach and chest,
Catching my breath I played with the cum wishing it could be his. I brought my fingers to my mouth and sucked some jizz across my tongue. I had developed a taste for this ever since the first load I shot at twelve. Boy that was an amazing awakening -- my first real cum will never be forgotten -- does anyone really forget that day?
Oh yes, I told you I started a journal didn't I?
I kept a spiral notebook either with me or safely locked up in my desk. When I felt down or emotional I would jot down my thoughts. Sometimes just bullshit but mostly my feelings for Andy or comments on some hot dude I'd seen around. I didn't censor myself but put exactly what I felt. I'd write how hot someone's ass was, how many times and how I jerked off, and most of all my feelings about Andy and being gay. This book became my savior, a place of serenity amidst a sea of turmoil. I know I'm being a little melodramatic but who gives a fuck.
When I awoke in the morning I hopped in the shower and got ready for school. There were only a few months until summer, and then I could be free from waking up at 6 o'clock in the morning.
"Morning Dad," I said grabbing some bread to make toast.
"Mornin'," he grunted back never looking up from the newspaper.
That's my dad -- not a morning person at all.
"Bye" I called as I headed out the door. If he answered I didn't hear him.
Andy was a few yards ahead of me and I jogged to catch up to him. "Shit, slow down dude," I called as I came along side him.
"Oh, hi." He answered blankly.
"Somethin' up?" I inquired. This was unlike him -- he was always the upbeat one while I was the melancholy one.
"Grounded." He simply stated.
I asked, "What's the sentence?"
"One week, no TV, no computer. Sucks."
He sounded pissed and standoffish so I got the feeling he didn't want to talk too much about so I didn't press the issue.
"Catch you at lunch." He told me as he headed off to his 1st period class.
I am glad he wasn't mad at me -- being grounded did suck but if that was the issue then it would pass. I stopped on the stairs and opened my journal -- I wrote about masturbating to Andy's image last night and that he was grounded. Thumbing through the pages I couldn't believe how many times I jerk off. Judging by my entries it must be about once a day and sometimes two or three. "I'm a fucking freak." I said to myself as I closed the book and went into class.
I found my thoughts again turning to Andy -- this was now almost a constant occurrence and was starting to frighten me. Could I chance telling him how I felt? We've been great friends for so long and he was very open minded on many things. "Could I chance it?" I asked myself again. I whipped out my journal again and started a new list, a list of pros and cons of telling Andy
Do I talk to Andy? What would happen?
#1 "Fuck off Aaron you faggot!!" "Hey everyone Aaron's queer!"
#2 "Oh Aaron, do me -- make me cum!"
I guess it would be either one or something in the middle -- what to do?
Sitting in class my mind drifted away thinking about my life. I didn't learn one damn thing in school all day because of my thoughts. Lunch was good, Andy being there not the food that is.
"Want to catch a movie next week?" I asked. "We could make it a parole present."
He looked at me for a few moments, "sure, what you want to see?"
"Your party, your choice."
"How about that new Jim Carrey `God' flick?"
"You're on," I replied. "The tickets and drinks are on me, you're on your own in the snack department."
We go to the movies quite often, him paying one time and me the next. As always we smuggled something to eat avoiding the super marked up price of goobers.
We took off for our afternoon classes when the bell rang and as I watched him pull ahead of me again I wandered what I should do.
If I open the `gay' door by telling Andy would he blab to everyone? Would he tell my dad? God, my dad would just kill me. All the jokes I've heard him tell his friends were gay bashing types, he was always calling this person or that person a faggot. Every tine those words left his mouth my heart would sink and I would distance myself even more emotionally both from him and the world around me.
I ended up walking home alone in a daze -- not thinking, just walking. I was coming to a crossroads in my life and knew
I stopped at a bus stop and opened the journal.
I'm fucking fed up. I can't think -- can't breath -- can't feel normal. I need to do something and fast. I can't take these feelings alone. I need to feel loved and welcome -- I want to be held. Why can't I be like Andy and everyone else? Why can't I be normal!!!
Jerk off. Fantasize. Dream. Is this all there is? I need an out -- I need to be free.
I'm now gay what to I do?
Tell dad? Fuck no he hates "fags". I love him so much and am afraid he will leave like mom. NO GO!! He must not know.
Tell Andy? Danger play also -- would he still like me? Could he be gay? No, there is no way he is gay -- damn!
Who can I talk to? Can I talk? I trust Andy with so many things. He knows about my feelings of abandonment with my mom and he knows I cry sometimes worried that my dad doesn't love me. He doesn't laugh at me. He doesn't make me feel bad for crying. Can I tell him? How do I do it?
I shut the book and looked around making sure no one was observing me. I felt a little less stressed writing my thoughts down. Looking to the sky I made a decision, one that I hoped was right -- I was going to tell Andy I was gay. I saw no other choice, not telling and hiding was killing me inside. I was being eaten away with fear and loathing for who I was and felt I deserved better. No, prayed I could have better.
"I'm home!" I yelled, walking into the living room.
Getting no answer I headed into the kitchen, I guess dad was working a little late this evening. He was almost always here by the time I got home but it seems the last few months his boss was making him put in a few extra hours.
Knowing I had some time I sat at the table and finished up my homework. I heard my dad come in just as I was finishing up.
"Hi pops." I said as he came into the kitchen.
"Hi boy," he answered.
This was out normal ritual -- me telling him he was old and he kept reminding me that I was a kid. Unfortunately there was no real communication either.
"I'm beat, pizza ok?" he asked pulling up a chair.
"Cool. The Hut or big D's?"
"You order, call who you want." He told me.
Wow I get to make a decision I thought sarcastically -- this could be life altering. I pushed away those thoughts and ordered us a pie then headed up to my room and opened my journal.
Note to self -- check library and web for coming out help.
Get hair cut. What should I wear to the movie? Maybe I could spend the night. Maybe I could blow Andy -- suck him and squeeze that ass while he filled me with his juice.
Thinking about Andy got me all worked up. I slipped into bed and unbuckled my jeans sliding them to my knees. I knew I had only a few minutes but I needed to cum -- needed to let the day wash away with a big load.
I wrapped my cock in some tissue to aid in the eventual clean up and started slowly stroking myself to a major hard-on. I was feeling real good -- my cock tingling -- my mind and body searching for the release I needed.
Rolling onto my stomach I started fucking my closed fist -- my cock sliding in and out of the tissue wrapped hand. I used my free hand to stroke my ass imagining all the while it was Andy's butt I was doing. I could hear him moan as I slid in and out of him -- his hand on my ass.
"Fuck, oh fuck." I grunted filling the tissue.
Collapsing on the bed I realized I had worked up on hell of a sweat with my work out. Wiping my brow I headed downstairs and found dad at the table -- pizza, plates, and drinks already set to go.
We ate in silence -- again as normal. Did anyone have conversations anymore?
I looked up and saw him looking at me, not eating.
"Aaron, do me a favor," He said after some time. "Keep the noise down a little ok?"
"What?" I asked. Did he mean what I think he did? Did he hear me jerking off?
"Aaron, I'm not stupid and believe it or not I was 15 once also." He retorted. "A little respect for those in the house, ok?"
Fuck fuck fuck fuck!! He did hear me. I looked at the plate not wanting to make eye contact. This was so embarrassing -- he not only knew, ok I guess he always knew I mean we are both guys, but he had heard me. Heard me get off. Did he hear me call Andy's name? Did I call his name? I didn't know -- I knew what I was thinking but was lost in the act itself and had no clue what I said or how loud I said it.
As quickly and normally as possibly I slipped from the table and started upstairs. I almost escaped but felt my father grab my arm.
"Kiddo, I'm sorry."
Sorry? What for? Was he actually apologizing fir embarrassing me?
I looked into his eyes for a second and shrugging my shoulders I walked away. I didn't really know what to say and thank God he didn't press the issue.
It seemed that issue with my dad was forgotten but I still found it difficult to look him in the eyes. Man I was mortified he said something to me -- knowing was one thing but you didn't talk about this with your parents. Shit, joking about it with your friends was the only acceptable means of discussing jerking off, and then only accusing them of it because you would never do something like that!
Andy was finally cut loose from his punishment and after getting permission to stay over we headed out to the movies. It was still a few months until we could get our learners permits so the only mode of transport was our feet.
I paid for the tickets and grabbed a couple of pops for us to drink. I loved the movies, where else could you escape reality and drink a 52-ounce beverage.
Andy led me to the back corner, our favorite location in this theatre. It was very dark and we felt like we could do all the people watching and never get caught staring -- it was our little spy game we have had for many years.
After we settled down I noticed Andy moving around and nearly passed out when I saw he was opening his pants up.
"What're you doing?" I whispered in surprise.
"Snack time." He replied.
I watched as he reached into his pants and pulled out two large bags of gummi bears. That little shit had taped one bag to each thigh. I was getting hard watching him fiddle around, pulling and tugging at his thighs.
"Enjoy." He said handing me the very warm bag.
Not knowing what came over me I put the bag under my nose and took a big whiff. I could smell his sweat but really could not smell anything else.
"You need a shower." I told him sniffing loudly at the bag.
He looked at me, paused for a second then laughed. "Wash this freak," while grabbing his crotch.
We both got a laugh at that snide comment, but I got a little thrill also.
As we watched the movie we would bump feet and legs every so often -- I wasn't making a move, these things were just happening. I wasn't complaining because every time we made contact I would get a little electrical tingle up and down my spine that seemed to terminate in my groin.
The flick was ok, but Jim had made better movies. We were bullshiting on the way home to kill time and on a whim I asked Andy "if you had no choice, none at all but to cut off your balls or suck a dick what would you do?"
"Fuck you asshole." He said pushing me.
"I'm serious what would you do?" I asked again.
"Well, what would you do?" he countered.
"I asked first," I reminded him.
He had this strange look on his face like he was working out how to answer without getting himself in a bind. This was amusing and strangely erotic to watch.
"Aaron, I really don't know." He stated. "Do you?"
Moment of truth had arisen -- he turned the tables on me and I wasn't fast enough to counter.
"Well, I guess I'd have to suck a dick -- I need my balls and the dick thing is only temporary." I answered honestly. "I'm not losing my balls - I need them."
He nodded and said he "guessed" he'd do the same.
We crashed in his room, lounging around in our boxers -- playing a few video games.
I lost three games in a row before I just sat back and watched him play. I watched and every few seconds I'd try to work up enough courage to speak to Andy -- to talk to him about how I felt. I could feel the words on my tongue -- played out what to say over and over again but nothing would come out.
"Something wrong?" Andy asked looking over his shoulder.
He had noticed I had gotten quiet and knowing me stopped his game and sat down beside me.
He let me sit there for several minutes. He remained silent waiting for me to say something -- he was unbelievably patient while I sat in turmoil.
"Andy I want to talk but am not sure how to. I need -- I mean I, well. Fuck forget it."
"No, not forget it," he pushed, "something's wrong -- what gives."
I was cornered now -- I started to tell him but the words were trapped. I was shaking from fear and my heart was pounding in my chest. I watched him I know it was only a few seconds but felt like a week -- before I could speak I felt a solitary tear roll down my cheek.
As I've said I've know Andy for a very long tome and his reaction to the tear was one that both surprised and gave me strength.
"Aaron?" He was looking at me with deep concern, his finger on my cheek catching the tear.
When I felt his finger on my face I let go, for the first time since my mother left I broke down -- broke down and let loose with emotion that no one should have to carry. I rocked with sobs and felt Andy's arms around my shoulder holding me.
"Sorry," I said standing up and trying to move away.
He followed me to his bed and sat beside me.
"What gives?" he asked, again wiping the tears from my cheek.
I didn't answer instead I held his hand and kissed his fingers several times. I don't know what came over me but that was the only way I could think of to thank him for his concern. On about the fourth kiss he jerked his hand away and looked at me with a very perplexed expression.
"I love you." I said softly. BOOM! Done! The words were spoken -- no going back now.
"You mean what I think you mean, don't you?"
I nodded and waited for his reaction. After a minute or so when he didn't speak I said again, "I love you -- I can't help it I just do."
I spent the nest hour telling him that I was gay and he was the person I really liked. I told him about my fear of rejection, how I was afraid of my dad's reaction if he knew -- I let Andy into my life further than I've ever let anyone in before. He thought he knew me and I sat there and proved him wrong -- I held nothing back. The floodgates were opened and out poured my soul.
When I was finished he got up without saying a word and went to the bathroom. I sat there in anguish while listening to him take a shower.
"I'm going to bed." He said simply when he returned.
He hit the lights and crawled into his bed without another word.
I waited for about fifteen minutes and crawled into his spare bed. It was a restless night I just laid there crying silently and wishing I had not chosen to tell him how I felt.
I must have dozed some because when I awoke the sun was coming up and giving the room an eerie glow. Walking across the room I sat down quietly on the corner of his bed looking at his sleeping form. He was sweating a bit and his hair was matted to his forehead giving him the appearance of someone who just finished a race.
I reached forward and brushed his hair back to better view his face but he awoke at my touch.
"Get of me." He hissed pushing my off the bed.
"I wasn't doing anything." I told him feeling guilty. In truth I was sitting on his bed and touching him without permission so I "was" in fact doing something.
"Don't touch me, ok? I don't like it." He told me. "Why don't you head home -- I need to think."
"Let's talk, please." I pleaded.
I was hoping we could talk out what happened last night. Hoping this could be resolved and that we could still be friends. Realizing that he wasn't going to talk yet I started to get dressed to head home.
"I'm sorry Andy, I can't help how I feel. Do you think I want to feel like an outcast? I continued, "I want to be your friend -- damn we've been buds forever. Now I've screwed it up and all I can do is hope you can understand."
"Just let me think ok?"
"Can we talk now?" I begged.
"Please go -- let me think ok? Aaron this is too much now. I don't know how I feel -- just go, please. I don't want to fight but goddamn it I need time to think"
I had lost this battle but I felt like I still had a chance to be friends -- he didn't yell or anything but he wasn't happy and wanted me to leave him alone.
"Bye. I said grabbing my stuff and heading home. Walking home with the morning sun coming up on my back I felt alone and lost again.
The house was quiet when I got home, so as quickly and quietly as possible I slipped upstairs hoping to avoid my dad and having to answer any awkward questions as to why I was home so early. After Andy told me to leave I didn't need to face anyone -- I didn't think I could even look my dad in the face.
I climbed the stairs to my room ashamed and scared of what I told Andy and wondering what he might say to his parents or others. I crashed onto the bed and just felt numb. I must have been tired because the next thing I knew it was 10 o'clock in the morning.
I went to my desk and noticed my drawer was unlocked. I must have forgotten to close it when I rushed off to Andy's house. I felt ice run through my veins as I opened the drawer to find my journal missing.
"Oh no." I whispered to myself.
I numbly walked downstairs to the kitchen. I smelled coffee so I knew dad was up. I nearly screamed as the phone by the couch rang as I passed.
"Hello." I said answering it.
I heard Andy's voice asking me to come over so we could talk but I heard no more as I saw my dad walk into the living room.
He had my journal in his hands and I could tell from his expression that he had read it...he must have been really pissed at me because I saw how red his face was and oh my god, oh my god there was what looked like hate in his eyes.
"Oh god, dad. Oh no -- Oh god." I moaned in anguish.
Dropping the phone I bolted for the door, not hearing him calling my name. I had to go...had to flee this situation. It hit me as I ran down the street, I had no choice. I was never going to be accepted for who and what I was. That was when I knew what I had to do, I had to get out of this life. A feeling of calm washed over me as I headed toward the highway overpass and my new fate.
As I stood on the bridge my senses were alive, I could feel the cold sting of rain across my cheek, ice cold metal on my hands, and my ears were abuzz with the sound of traffic below me. I was slowly counting down in my head - 20, 19, 18, 17... counting toward the end of my pain. Watching cars wiz by not caring whose life I'd fuck up when I landed. I knew now that I was an outcast, my life over. I held my breath - 4, 3, 2...air was forced from my lungs as I fell.
I realized something was wrong - I was not falling but being pulled backwards. I felt strong arms around my chest as I fell to the ground. After a second I saw my dad, the man who I thought could never love a person like me. I saw that he was crying as he pulled me towards him.
"Oh my god Aaron, oh god" he kept saying over and over as he rocked me. "Why?"
I thought he was asking why I was like I was but then I got it...he was asking why I would ever think about killing myself.
"I had no other choice, I saw your eyes." I answered. "I saw you read my journal. I had no othe...
"Again he pulled me to his chest. "I love you. Do you understand? You, nothing else - I don't care what you think - I will always love you."
I was seeing for the first time the love in his eyes and knew I was safe. "I'm sorry dad, I'm..." I lost it and hugged him tight.
While in his arms our tears mixing I saw Andy standing a few feet away, he also had tears in his eyes. He had heard my anguished cry, my dad calling to me and came looking for me.
I knew for the first time in my life that I was going to be okay. I was loved for who I was and nothing would change that.
Author's Note: Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem and should never, NEVER, be considered as an option. If you are having thoughts and feelings leaning toward ending it all please go to a friend, teacher, relative, crisis center/hotline, or anyone you can trust. Remember that no matter what, someone does indeed love you and would be devastated to lose you. Don't become a statistic -- you are much too valuable to this world than that.