It does not require many words to speak the truth.
-- Chief Joseph
We walked back to my house. It took a little while, but we eventually made it. It was like trying to lead a scared dog back to its abusive master. If I went too fast, or made any vaguely threatening moves, I was sure he would just run away.
I did everything I could to assure him it was safe. I really hated the idea that someone like him could actually be afraid of me...it made me sick inside to even think about it. Like I was some kind of hateful bully or something? God, what a joke. I spent more than enough time hiding from the bullies in Junior High myself to make that thought really repulsive to me. I realized that for the first time, my well-practiced hard-ass skater persona wasn't exactly having the desired effect...
When we finally arrived at my house, I opened the gate to the back yard, and pointed to a table on the patio.
"So, uh...go ahead and have a seat, and I'll grab us a couple of cokes," I offered, careful not to be too demanding in my tone. As I disappeared into the house, I was desperately trying to figure out the right way to discuss this with him. I hadn't really planned this all out in advance...meeting him at the park, and all. But, when I saw him sitting there looking so miserable, I knew I just had to do something. I felt pretty bad about the way I had handled things yesterday.
When he finally lifted his head after I woke him up, I could see the fear and pain in his eyes so clearly it almost hurt. I felt awful, knowing I had caused him that much pain. I had already spent all evening and most of the night yesterday beating myself up about it. Well; that, and worrying about that strange feeling I keep getting in my gut every time I think about him. It felt like I was starting to lose the battle again, and I knew had to do something to regain a sense of control over my life.
Ok, I admit it. I was scared. It was the first time I had actually dreamt about another guy like that since Billy, and it was like some switch just went off inside me. I had never experienced anything remotely that erotic since, well...you know. What I was feeling inside scared me to death. I wasn't supposed to feel that way about another guy, and I hated it. Well, part of me really liked it, and another part of me hated the fact that I liked it...does that make sense?
I hardly slept at all last night...because I was afraid of having that damn sexy dream again, or maybe because I was just afraid that I would like it too much. And today, after sitting through half of my classes, I finally decided I just couldn't handle it any more. I felt like shit inside, and outside. I blew off the rest of my classes after lunch, and wandered back towards home through the park. I'd spent the rest of the afternoon just lazily skating around the park and thinking (I do some of my best thinking on my skateboard...don't ask me why, I just do...).
I saw him right away when he came walking into the park; but he apparently hadn't seen me. He looked so pathetic with his head hanging down, and his shoulders slumped over. When I saw him like that, I just knew in my heart I had to do something right then. I wasn't sure exactly what, but I figured I could just improvise. I slowly made my way around the park in his direction, trying to build my courage up enough to talk to him.
As I finally approached close to the bench where he was sitting, it looked like he was asleep. So, I took the opportunity to gather my thoughts some more as I sat there on the end of that bench, studying him in great detail...trying to imagine who this kid was, what his life was like. I shuddered a little bit to myself, when I thought again about how easily it could have been me sitting there, had things turned out differently in my life. I looked at him intently as he sat there with his head laying on his arms...there was just something about him that made me want to take all of him in with my eyes... something made me need to stare at him. There really wasn't any one thing that was remarkable about him, but all together I was fascinated by him. Maybe it was the look of innocence...of honesty about him. He just looked sooo...I dunno...so nice? Something in the back of my head was telling me I had to find out more about him...I was intensely curious about him. I just couldn't help it.
I heard him mumbling and moaning to himself like he was dreaming. Immediately, images from my own dream yesterday flooded through my head, and I could feel myself begin to stir sympathetically in my shorts. NO! I reminded myself. I just can't let myself do that! He was not gonna become another Billy Jenkins in my life...I just can't let that happen again.
I don't think I could survive that a second time.
That haunting feeling was enough to remind me of the importance of this moment...like a cold slap on the face. I just had to do something to deal with this, and I decided maybe it was time to just wake him up. I didn't want to traumatize the kid, but I had to make it clear to him that he couldn't blindly run around school being in lust with me, or some other guy for that matter. It just wasn't' safe...I certainly didn't want to see him get killed. And, I didn't want him to fuck up my carefully planned existence, either.
When I returned from the kitchen, he was sitting nervously in a patio chair, with his hands placed in front of him on the table. I sat down opposite him, and handed him a coke. I looked once again into those big pale-blue eyes; trying to reassure him everything was ok...trying to instill some sense of calmness into them. I just don't think I can do this if he keeps looking at me like a frightened puppy, that's for sure.
He took a hesitant sip from his drink, and coughed a bit trying to get it down.
"Well..." I began, "Like I said, your pictures pretty well said everything, I guess. But don't worry; nobody has seen all of them except for me. They were excellent photos...uh, not talking about the `content' exactly, but you know what I mean. Look, I think you're a really talented photographer. I've never had any pictures taken of me like that before...and I guess, well, uh...it's a little bit flattering. But, I have to tell you that I erased all of the...well, the `sexy' ones, ok?" I said softly.
I could see him recoil a little bit at that, almost like it was a physical blow for him just to hear me say it.
"It wasn't an easy thing for me to do, alright?" I said, defensively. "I totally respect the work of another artist, dude. But, it was just too dangerous for both of us to have those pictures hanging around somewhere they could eventually get found, ok? I don't want to see you get hurt, and I don't want it to fuck up my life at school, either."
I gave him a real serious look to emphasize my next point.
"You have to understand that I'm just not...uh, well...I just can't be like you, ok? Don't you see how it would be for me, if people knew some gay sophomore boy was taking pictures of me to jerk off to later?" I said, hoping he could put himself in my shoes for a second.
He turned away from me quickly, like someone had just slapped him in the face. I sat there patiently for a moment, until I heard a little sob escape from him.
My heart sank a little bit.
"Look," I said, "I'm sorry if that was a little harsh, but I just want you to understand things from my perspective, ok? I realize you must have a lot to deal with, being gay and all; and I'm sure it can be really hard. People can be real assholes about that kind of stuff, and that's totally my point here. I don't want anyone hassling you, and I don't want anyone hassling me, ok?" I asked, hoping he was getting my point here...
He sat there facing away from me, and I could tell he was struggling to deal with everything I was laying on him here. I was starting to feel like shit again. I didn't want to rain all over his little gay parade, but I had to do what I had to do, ya know? I need to make sure he doesn't fuck things up for both of us, whether he likes it or not. Maybe I just have to accept being the bad guy here, as much as I don't like it. But, it's for a good reason, I think.
He continued to just sit there in silence, staring at the ground beside his chair. God, he was really starting to make me feel bad about this.
I let out a huge sigh. "Ian...come on dude, just look at me for a minute. Everything's gonna be ok here. We can talk about his. It's just us here...nobody else is ever gonna hear what we say, alright?" I asked.
Reluctantly, he turned and sat facing me again, but he still refused to look me in the eye.
"Feel free to jump in and say anything you want to here..." I said, trying to lighten the mood a little bit.
I thought I almost detected a brief smile on his face, still mostly hidden behind his long bangs, which fell down over his eyes when he was staring at his hands like he was.
"No? Uh, well...So, I guess this is how I see it. You just treat me like a normal person at school, and I'll do the same for you, ok? I mean, like, we're not friends or anything, and we're certainly not enemies...we don't even know each other, dude. When it comes to the newspaper or yearbook stuff, we just treat each other in a professional manner, like you would do anyone else on the crew, ok?" I asked. "Nobody is ever gonna know about this except just us. I've worked hard for my `rep' around school, and I don't want that to change, you got it?"
He looked up at me and nodded briefly. I could tell he was really trying not to show the hurt in his eyes, but it was still painfully obvious to me. I wish he would just say something...anything! This silent treatment was starting to get a little frustrating.
"Come on dude...please say something here...just to let me know you're still breathing, ya know?" I pleaded.
He looked at me briefly, and it seemed like he was trying really hard to come up with something to say. But, in the end he just sighed, shook his head no, and returned his gaze back to his hands again. I still felt like crap, and he wasn't gonna let me off the hook that easily, I could see.
"Well, then I think that's all we need to say about it," I said, as I stood up from the table. "I guess you can go know, if you want."
I walked over to the gate to let him out. As he stepped past me to leave, his eyes connected again briefly with mine, peering out sadly from behind his long bangs. That guilty feeling inside me returned with a vengeance...it felt like someone had kicked me right in the gut. Completely out of reflex, I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder as he walked past.
He flinched as he felt the contact, and stopped abruptly.
"Ian...dude...uh, just...well, watch out for yourself. Just be careful, ok?" I said.
He turned to look back at me, and his eyes locked onto mine again. Now it was his eyes that were intently searching mine...I could see his soft, pale-blue eyes were full of surprise, and full of questions at that point. I just hoped mine weren't full of answers...
He studied me carefully for a moment.
"I will. Thanks," he said, softly but clearly. Then he turned, and walked away.
My eyes followed him down the driveway, as he slowly ambled away from me with his shoulders slumped down, and his hands stuck in his pockets. When he was completely gone from view, I shut the gate.
What I had seen in those pale-blue eyes haunted me for the rest of the afternoon.
After he left, I stood there for a while staring intently at the back of our wooden gate, just trying to understand what had actually happened here. I had spent several minutes explaining to him (and to myself, I think...) how things needed to be...that he couldn't run around taking sexy pictures of me, or in any way letting on to somebody that he was gay, or that he `liked me' in that way. But somehow, I couldn't help but feel profoundly affected by the whole thing.
I told myself I should be pretty satisfied that I had dealt with the problem, and everything would probably turn out ok. Mostly, I just wanted this whole business to go away and leave me alone...for everything to be exactly as it had been only a few days ago. But deep down, something inside me was refusing to let go of this. It kept nagging me...giving me this vaguely uncomfortable feeling...like I was somehow making a big mistake. I felt like I was standing at a fork in the road, about to head down the wrong path. That little voice in my head kept reminding me how good everything had seemed in that stupid dream. Was it actually possible to feel those things for real? To be...that way...with someone? To feel what it's like to be...
No! I refused to let myself believe it for even one second. Fortunately, I'm pretty good at ignoring those little voices. I've been doing it most of my life.
I thought about my choices for a moment. Surely it was obvious, wasn't it? I mean, I couldn't let myself get distracted from my main objective: to graduate from high school, and get the heck out of here. I had promised myself more times than I could count that nothing could be allowed to get in the way of my escape from this hell.
But, I could sense that this battle inside my head was far from over. Suddenly, I was feeling really exhausted from all of this--both emotionally and physically. Besides, I was still really wasted from not getting enough sleep the night before. I went up to my bedroom and closed my door. I yanked off my shirt and shorts, and lay down on my bed in just my boxer briefs. Thank god we had a rule in our house...nobody entered my private space without knocking and waiting for my permission before they entered. I guess after having two other sons before me, my parents understood the privacy needs of teenage males pretty well. I picked up the book from my English Lit class (which I was a little behind in reading anyway) and started to read. I knew that would put me to sleep in no time.
As the dream began, it seemed vaguely familiar.
I could see him standing there in the middle of my bedroom, looking at me as I lay on my bed, with lust and wonder in his pale-blue eyes. I could feel my erection aching as it pressed hard against the inside of my underwear. Fuck, my dick was so hard it almost hurt.
I could see that his eyes were totally focused on my hard-on. Eventually, he looked up, and his eyes connected with mine. I could sense my eyes begging him to come closer. As he sat gently beside me on the edge of the bed, his eyes never left mine. I reveled in the incredible lust and desire that was obvious in those huge, soft, beautiful eyes. He smiled at me as he reached his hand out and rubbed it across my stomach. I shivered a little bit...it felt so awesome to be touched by him. Slowly and carefully his other hand brushed the hair away from my face.
He leaned down and kissed me gently at first, then more passionately. He then began moving slowly down my body...kissing me on the chin, the neck...finally on my chest. As his tongue slowly teased one of my nipples, one of his hands gently stroked across my chest, while the other hand slowly massaged my hardness through my underwear. His kisses began slowly moving down across my stomach, teasing the few hairs that run from my navel down to my crotch. I closed my eyes and groaned to myself...it felt like my whole body was on fire...every nerve cell I had was tingling with excitement. I had never felt anything remotely this erotic before.
Anticipating his next move, I reached down and lowered my underwear to my knees. He turned his head briefly to look up at me, as he lay there with his cheek resting on my stomach. His eyes told me without a doubt how much he enjoyed making me feel this good...and how totally aroused he was at the same time.
As I felt the warm and wet sensation on the head of my dick, my whole body stiffened in an uncontrolled spasm, and my breath drew in sharply. As I felt his lips slide down my shaft to encircle the very base of my erection, I could feel that familiar sensation beginning to build deep inside me. I reached down and gently ran my hands through his soft brown hair as he pulled back up, just leaving the head inside his mouth as his tongue slowly swirled around and around, making me crazy with every pass. I literally screamed out loud as could feel myself begin to...
"Uuuunnggghhhhhhh...uuugghhh...uugghhh" I heard myself moaning out loud. As I snapped awake, I immediately realized I was right in the middle of the most powerful orgasm I had ever felt in my entire life. It felt like my dick would never stop exploding...I could feel stream after stream landing all over my face, my hair, my chest and stomach. I came so long and so hard; my balls literally ached when it was all over.
I slowly opened my eyes, and looked down to see my left hand wrapped tightly around my still painfully hard seven inches, gently milking out the last few drops. I don't remember my dick ever feeling this big and this hard. I was covered with cum everywhere. I usually make just a few small puddles on my belly, but this looked like somebody had drenched me with a fire hose. I took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly as I reveled in the post-orgasm high. I could feel my heart beating like I had just run a race.
God, not that dream again, I thought to myself tiredly. But, wow...I actually had tears running down my face...but not tears of sadness, or joy. It must have been just the sheer strength of that kind of emotional release.
The power of the orgasm induced high, combined with my pre-existing state of exhaustion, swiftly knocked me out again. I awoke three hours later, still lying on my bed, with my underwear around my ankles, and covered in dried cum. I heard my mom pounding on my door, telling me that dinner was almost ready. I groaned something to let her know that I'd heard her, and dragged myself into the bathroom to get cleaned up for dinner.