The Moon in Your Eyes

by Coningsby

(a.k.a. Free Thinker)

Disclaimer: The following story may contain scenes of sexual activity between males. If you find this objectionable or if it is illegal for you to read this in your community, please do not do so. The author does not condone the violation of any law. This is fiction; it did not happen. Please do not copy or alter without the author's permission.

Personal note: I have been writing a previous story under the pseudonym "Free Thinker" which I invite you to read, entitled "A Canterbury Tale." It is a series of stories, actually, which take place in a small college town in the northern United States and they can be found in the Adult/Youth section of Nifty. I invite you to read them and hope you will enjoy them! Please send any comments regarding this story to my new email address:

The Moon in Your Eyes

Chapter Eight

"Scott! What a pleasure to see you today!" said Father Parker as Jeff and I exited the front door of the church. "You two will be staying for punch and cake in the rectory? You can meet some of the other kids in the youth group."

The Robinsons did not seem to be in any condition to sit through an hour of Episcopal calisthenics, (sit, kneel, stand, sit kneel, stand), so Beverley, after regaining something close to composure after Jeff's rather nauseating comments, gave us a ride. Returning home would be our responsibility. Jeff seemed rather anxious not to return home, so we both readily agreed.

"Its interesting," Jeff commented as we walked around the outside of the church toward the rectory. "The Baldwins didn't show up at church today."

"They go here?" I exclaimed?

"Sure. A lot of the old families whose kids go to St. Steve's come to church here."

"I'd have thought a family like that would go downtown to one of the big churches."

Jeff laughed contemptuously as we entered the door to the rectory.

"Naw, this is a big society church. And, remember, their Dad's on the Board at St. Steve's. He sorta has to go here."

There were dozens of people in the great hall, standing around drinking Kool-Aid and chatting about whatever society people chat about. A couple in their thirties came up to us as we walked toward the table where several elderly ladies happily dipped punch into Dixie cups.

"Hi, Jeffrey!" the lady gushed. "How are you today?"

"Very well, thank you, Mrs. Morris." He reached out and shook the man's hand.

"So where are your parents today," the man asked.

"Mom's not feeling well today," he replied matter-of-factly. The couple exchanged knowing glances and turned back to Jeff.

"Im so sorry to here that," the lady moaned with obviously false concern. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I'm sure she'll be just fine, but thank you for asking."

When they had moved on, without even asking who I was, Jeff smirked.

"They're just as fake as Ted and Bev are."

I said nothing, as this kind of environment was new to me. Of course, church wasn't. I was raised in the Episcopal Church back home. But, since Daddy's crash, Mother and I hadn't been back and Fred was a Baptist who said that Episcopalians were just fake Catholics who were all going to Hell. No, what was new was the society angle.

After we left the table with our Dixie cups, Jeff pulled me over to a corner where stood two boys I recognized from school. In fact, they were in my Civics class: Kelly and Randy. Kelly reminded me a little of Jeff. He was small for his age and skinny. His platinum blond hair was shorter than Jeff's, but similarly styled. He was really cute, but he had a very girlish giggle that made me uncomfortable. People were always teasing him for acting like a sissy, though it was nothing like the harassment Jeff and I had received, despite the fact that he was far more sissified than anyone else I knew at school. Randy was a little taller than Kelly, with strawberry blond hair and freckles. He was just as cute and just as sissy-acting as Kelly.

I was embarrassed to come over to them. Jeff sensed it because just before we came within earshot of them, he whispered to me, "Quit being a snob!"

I was about to issue a righteous denial when I realized that I was, indeed, being a snob, though in a different way than before. Jeff was being a good influence on me, showing me that I was falling into traps that society was leading me to. I smiled at him and whispered, "Thank you." He smiled back.

"Hi, Jeff!" Kelly said in a voice that some would consider too high and too enthused. Randy repeated his friend's greeting in an identical voice.

"Hey guys!' Jeff responded in a surprisingly similar voice. "How's it going?"

"Cool," Kelly responded. His eyes were locked on me and he started blushing.

"Hey," he said almost breathlessly. "You're Scott Forrester, aren't you?"

Randy seemed to be blushing as fiercely as Kelly. I started blushing as well, though mine was from embarrassment. Jeff giggled just a bit too girlishly.

"Well, yeah," I replied.

Randy had a look almost of reverence on his face.

"You're the guy who beat up Mike Baldwin, aren't you!"

I frowned and looked at the parquet floor.

"Well, I didn't...."

"Yeah!" Jeff gushed. "You should have seen it. He was so cool!"

"Wow," Kelly said with an almost worshipful tone. "You are so lucky, Jeff."

"Yeah, I know." Jeff looked so proud, as if he were showing me off. Then I realized that was exactly what he was doing. I was his special friend, his protector, and he was showing me off to his other friends. I was definitely uncomfortable.

However, if I was uncomfortable about that, it was nothing compared to what I felt five seconds later.

"Well! Here are the four cutest boys in St. Steve's, all lined up for me right here!"

I turned in horror to find Chad Fielding standing right beside me with a leer on his face that gave me the willies. Jeff was none too pleased either, though Kelly and Randy seemed quite happy.

"Hey, Chad!" Kelly gushed. "Did you know that Scott, here, beat up Mike Baldwin the other day? And, he's Jeff's friend!"

The way he said `friend', with a special emphasis on the word, made me very uncomfortable. Did they know about Jeff and me? Did they know that I loved Jeff and that we had slept in each other's arms for two nights?

"Yes, I know," Chad replied, his voice indicating that he knew exactly what my friendship with Jeff consisted of.

"Isn't he lucky," Randy said.

Chad smiled again, but in a different voice, one devoid of the nastiness and innuendo that normally dripped from his voice, replied, "Yes. He is lucky."

I was totally confused by now. I looked at Jeff and saw an expression of absolutely pride in his face.

"Chad's our friend," Kelly reported.

"Yeah, we had a really cool party at his place Friday night!" Randy added.

"Yeah, we spent the night!" Kelly added with meaning in his voice. Jeff giggled.

"Yeah. Well, Scott stayed over at my place Friday night AND last night!"

"Wow," Kelly and Randy both replied.

"Yeah," Chad added with a knowing lilt to his voice. "Wow."

This was too much for me. We were in church, for Pete's sake! And, I didn't want anyone to know that Jeff and I did stuff! I looked at Jeff and his smile suddenly disappeared.

"I think we need to go now," I said with certainty in my voice. "Jeff's mom is sick."

The others looked surprised and Jeff looked confused. Then, seeing the serious look on my face, he added, "Uh, yes. Uh, you're right. Well, see ya later, guys."

Kelly and Randy looked a little confused and just a bit hurt as we turned away. I felt badly, but I just couldn't stand there like that. I suddenly felt suffocated.

Chad must have figured out what was going through my head, for as soon as Jeff and I turned away, he said, in a soft and surprisingly sincere voice, "It was nice to see you again, Scott. I hope your mom get's better, Jeff."

Jeff turned and smiled as I guiltily continued onward. He hurried to catch up with me. Eric Penfield was standing at the door of the great hall with his father, the music teacher at St. Steve's and the organist at the church, the creator of the wonderful music Jeff and I had listened to during those two lunch hours. Ordinarily, I would have been happy to speak with both, but I hurried on out the door. Eric was about to speak, but his face took on a look of surprise as I hurried past.

As I stopped on the sidewalk by the north side of the church, Jeff ran up to my side and said, in a voice verging on both anger and concern, "What's the matter with you?"

I couldn't say anything. I knew what Jeff would think if I told the truth, but I had no choice. I had to get out of there.

"Scott! What's the matter?"

I looked at him in shame.

"Jeff, I had to leave. I couldn't stand there. I'm sorry, but I was just too uncomfortable."

I removed my jacket in the afternoon sun. Jeff just stood there and glowered at me.

"You mean, you were embarrassed."

I sighed.

"Well, yeah."

"You were afraid of what people might think of you, weren't you?"

I sighed again, but remained silent. Jeff was relentless

"Kelly and Randy embarrassed you because they act so gay, didn't they? And, you're afraid people will think you're gay, right?"

"Well," I shuffled my feet, knowing I was in hot water and not knowing how to get myself out. "They do really act like sissies."

I started walking onward. Jeff angrily followed.



"Don't shush me," he exclaimed. "Who do you think you are?!"

"Jeff, I didn't mean to make you mad. It's just..."

"It's just you don't like fags."

I stopped in shock.


"No! You listen to me. Kelly and Randy are my friends and if you don't like them because they're fags, then you don't like me."

I was in shock that Jeff would speak so vehemently to me. It was as if the last three days had never occurred. It was Monday and Tuesday all over again.


He was marching on angrily away from me. He ripped the blazer from his shoulders and stormed across Franklin Avenue. I ran to catch up, but a sudden burst of traffic forced me to wait until Jeff was more than a block away.

"Jeff! Please!" I shouted, but he ignored me.

When the opportunity finally came, I darted across the street and ran.

"Jeff! I love you!"

I was astounded as I ran that I had actually yelled those words out in public. Apparently, so was Jeff, for he stopped and turned around.

"You're a coward!" he spat at me. "Worse, you really are a snob!"

Now, I was angry.

"Fine. I'm a coward. I'm a coward. I defended you! I took up for you! I fought Mike Baldwin to keep him from beating you up! And, I'm a coward!"

Jeff realized he had gone too far. I could see the regret on his face, but I was angry and suddenly everything seemed to be bubbling and gurgling up from within. Cars raced past on Franklin Avenue as I glared at Jeff. I threw my blazer down in the grass of the house in front of which we stood facing off.

"You stood there and cried like a little baby and I'm the coward! I got beat-up every day when I went to Franklin Park because they said I was a fag. Every day! I take shit from my stepfather EVERY DAY because he thinks I'm a fag! My little brother hates me because he thinks I'm a fag! My mother looks at me and I can see in her eyes that she thinks I'm a fag! Even when I change schools and go someplace where the kids are supposed to be smarter and act better, I still get bullied and called a fag!"

Jeff stood twenty feet away, the regret on his face so completely obvious. Yet, I was unrelenting.

"OK! You know what? I am a fag! I'm a fag! Everyone's right! I'm a fag! And, you know what else? Every day, I lay on my bed and hold my Boy Scout knife to my wrist and wonder if I have the guts to do it today! Every day! Well, everyday except Friday and yesterday. Friday and yesterday were the first days I haven't thought about killing myself. Because I thought I had a friend.

The tears were flowing down Jeff's face. He slowly walked up to me and then we were in each other's arms again, right on the sidewalk in front of dozens of cars passing by on Franklin Avenue, right in front of the huge houses and wide lawns, right under the clear sky, right in front of God.

Jeff let go of me after a moment, knelt to pick up my blazer, and began to walk up Franklin.

"Let's go home," he said. Silently, I followed.

We said nothing as we walked up Franklin, then Twenty-fourth, and finally Berkshire. When we came to the corner I lived on, we stopped. Uncertainly, I turned and said, "I guess I need to get my things and take them home."

"OK," Jeff whispered.

I followed him to his house, silently picked up my telescope and tripod as he handed me my overnight bag, and desolately left.

The Brat was sitting on the porch with a book, a rare sight, as I approached. She refused to move and I was forced to step around her.

"Have a fight with your boyfriend?" she spat.

I was too tired to respond. I went on inside and my stepfather was just coming out of the hallway as I walked past.

"Well, he's finally decided to rejoin the family."

I decided to ignore the sarcasm in his voice. I attempted a smile, as if he were just joking around me, and responded, "Yeah." He tromped on through the living room and out the front door.

Mother was in the kitchen washing dishes from lunch. Her only comment as I entered was, "Have you eaten?"

"I'm not hungry," I replied. I trudged into the utility room, climbed the stairs to the attic, set my things down on the floor, stripped naked, and lay down on the bed.

It was hot in the attic, but not as bad as it had been. I was sweating, but only a little bit. After a bit, I turned on my side and leaned over to my night stand. Slowly, I opened the drawer and withdrew my Boy Scout knife. Rolling onto my back again, I opened the knife and ran the tip of my finger over the edge of the blade. I pushed gently against the sharp tip, feeling the pain, imaging that sensation multiplied across my wrist. I closed my eyes and imagined darkness.

I must have gone to sleep, for I was suddenly startled awake when I felt my bed move. I was still laying naked on my bed, holding my knife. Jeff had sat down beside me. I gasped but said nothing. Jeff sat silently for a moment, until he whispered, "Your mother said it was alright for me to come up."

I said nothing.

Jeff looked at the knife in my hand.

"You weren't going to, were you?"

I thought for a moment.

"I don't know."

The red in his eyes revealed the pain in his heart. Slowly, he reached over and took the knife and put it back in the open drawer. He looked back at me.

The sun was shining through the window above and behind us and illuminated his golden hair as if he were a cherub in an Italian painting. It hung down over his face. His lips looked so pink. His tie-dyed t-shirt lung loosely over his shoulders as his slim legs crossed themselves next to me. He sat Indian style beside me, saying nothing, just looking.

After a long time, he moved, rolling across me to my right side, where he always seemed to lay. I said nothing either as we took each other in our arms and clung desperately.

"I don't know," he whispered with a tremor, "what I would do if you killed yourself. I love you, Scott."

I swallowed.

"I love you, too, Vim."

He smiled at my use of his nickname and kissed my cheek.

We snuggled and he whispered, "I know you're not a coward. You're the coolest guy I know. You're so smart and understanding. You're the only person I know who understands me. I don't know what I would do without you. Sometimes, I get too mad and too, I don't know, righteous I guess is the word."

I kissed his forehead through the mop of blond hair falling over his face.

"I guess I am too worried about what people think of me. I'm sure Randy and Kelly are cool guys and I'm sorry I was such a butt to them. I'll be glad to be their friend."

Jeff kissed my neck. I continued.

"I think I really have a thing about being gay, I guess. Everyone says its wrong. Everyone hates gays. But, I don't get it. I didn't decide to be gay. Its just the way it is. I guess I don't have to do gay things, but if I can't help being gay, why should I have to keep from doing gay things?"

"Father Parker seems pretty cool. I think he knows about us. Maybe we should talk to him."

I thought about it. "Yeah, he does seem pretty cool. But, he's a priest. What would he know about sex?"

Jeff shrugged.

Then I thought about the other comment Jeff had made. What if he did know about Jeff and me? What if he knew were... were boyfriends?

The sudden turn in the conversation and Jeff's repeated kisses on my throat and cheek reminded me I was naked and were beginning to have a bit of an effect on my penis, which had started to swell and lengthen along my hip. Jeff's left hand was caressing my chest and that was all it took for me to reach full mast. Jeff giggled and wrapped his left hand around my erection.

As he held it, he whispered in my ear something that sounded like, "eekhowfanyou."

I looked at him and, seeing the almost worshipful look on his face, realized what he was saying.

"Eekhowfanyou, Vim."

Then, he smiled and raised himself up.

"I want to show you how much I love you."

Slowly, he crawled backward down my body until his face was just above my rigid penis. I lay there wide-eyed, as I realized what he was going to do. Oh, my God! He was going to suck my cock!


He looked at me and gave an admonishing shake of his head.


I took a deep breath and was about to say, "Vim," when he leaned forward. I could feel the heat of his breath on my penis and it jumped. I began to pant and feel light-headed. He was going to do it and I felt more aroused than ever in my life.

His thick, pink lips touched the sensitive area under the head, the area where I had been circumcised, and he kissed it. I moaned. I wanted to throw my head back and close my eyes, but I couldn't pry my eyes away from watching what he was doing.

His lips opened and his tongue came out and touched the same place he had just kissed. This time, I cried out.

"Shhh! Your family's downstairs!" he whispered.

"I can't help it," I whispered back.

Jeff smiled and lowered his head again. His tongue came back out and this time touched the base of my penis just above my balls. Slowly, he licked up the shaft of my dick. I began to squirm as he reached the sensitive area again. He licked that part over and over, then ran his tongue all over the head of my cock. Drops had formed at the tip and I thought I would die of disbelief as I watched him lick them away. And, then, it happened.

I put my right fist up to my mouth to stifle my moans as I felt my penis enveloped in the glorious wet warmth of Jeff's mouth. I couldn't believe it. It was beyond anything I had ever experienced. It felt so good that I wanted to grab his head and force my cock all the way down his throat.

I did grab his head, but I merely ran my hands crazily all over his face and through his heavenly hair. I was squirming and panting and babbling nonsense as Jeff held my hips and moved his head up and down, sucking my penis and making me feel more aroused than my young body had ever known.

I was beyond rationality as I threw my head back and bit my lip. The orgasm seemed to just burst forth and it wasn't until it was over, an eternity of the most incredible feeling of my life, that I realized Jeff had kept his mouth over my cock the entire time. I was panting, my legs splayed wide and my hands still clutching the sheets beneath me, when I looked down and saw Jeff smiling, holding his mouth as if something were in it. Then he swallowed and disbelief overcame me nearly as much as the experience I had just undergone. I had shot my sperm in his mouth and he had swallowed it!

I wanted to be sick. Everything in my mind told me that what I had done was sick, wicked, perverse, disgusting. Everything told me that Jeff was gross beyond belief for swallowing. And, yet, I knew I would let him do it again. Even worse, I knew I wanted to do it to him.

"Vim." I whispered.

He was breathing heavily himself as he smiled at me. He crawled up my body until his head was nestled under mine on my left shoulder. Then, with his arm around me, he whispered, "Eekhowfanyou."

"Eekhowfanyou, Vim. Eekhowfanyou." And, I slept.

Thus, ends Chapter 8. Please email any comments or suggestions to I look forward to hearing from you and making new friends!