DISCLAIMER: The following story may contain consensual sexual contact between two minor boys. If for some reason, this type of material is not to your liking, or, for any reason it's not permitted in your place of residence by law, or if you are not of an age to be legally permitted to read this type of material, please stop here and read no further. The characters in this story are totally fictitious. Any resemblance to any person alive or deceased is purely coincidental. Nothing this story should be construed to mean that the Author or the management of any website where this story is posted in any way condones, promotes, or encourages any act which may be illegal in any jurisdiction. This work is protected under the Copyright laws of the United States and other countries. You may not copy, distribute, print onto paper, or post this story on any website without the express permission of the Author. Comments are welcome at hermesauthor@gmail.com.

Dream Lover

by Hermes

© 2011

*FRIDAY*

8:45pm. That was the time when I looked at the clock for what must have been the 100th time that evening. In my mind I was trying to think of what time I could go to bed without causing my mom to wonder. I know it's not typical of a 12-year-old to WANT to go to bed early. Most 12s would be trying to devise a way to stay up later on a Friday night. 8:46. Damn.

I figure it would need to be at least 9:00 before I could pull off being 'really tired after a long week of school' without her thinking I must be sick. I only hope I didn't look like I was nervous. That would be a sure give-away. Why is it that when you want time to pass quickly, it seems to drag on, forever and when you want it to last, it seems to race by at 'warp speed'? 8:50. Only 10 minutes more.

I closed my eyes for a moment, just a moment, and the images came flooding back to me. The previous night, and the previous several before, I'd had the identical dream. I saw nothing but his face. I was drawn to it. It compelled me. I desired it. I felt a need; a longing more powerful than I had ever felt. His eyes were sparkling blue. His nose was perfect. His lips... oh, his lips... they looked so full, and moist. He appeared to be about the same age as I was.

I wracked my brain. Have I ever seen him before? No. I'm sure of it. I think I would have remembered seeing absolute perfection. Until that first dream, I had considered myself your typical boy. I liked girls. I'd even kissed them. When I jacked off, which I had been doing for a few months even though I still wasn't able to produce when I came, I thought of this girl in my class, or that girl I met at the mall. Since that first dream he had invade my waking thoughts, my fantasies, and my dreams. Each night I seemed to get closer and closer. I was sure that tonight would be the night I actually reached him. 8:59.

-*-

*THE PREVIOUS MONDAY*

“Trevor, are you okay?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“You just seemed so distant. Did you have a bad dream last night?”

“No, actually I had a very nice dream, I think.”

She smiled and reminded me that I needed to 'get a move on' or I would be late for school. I had just had a dream that confused me. Today was the first day of school. My first day of middle-school. 7th Grade. Was I nervous? Kinda. After all, this was the first time I'd be in a P.E. class where we had to shower in front of the other kids I'd been going to school with for years.

With a kiss on the cheek, Mom pushed me out the door to make my way the quarter mile or so to school. As I got to the end of my driveway I saw her waiting. Katie Murphy. The first girl I had ever kissed. We have known each other since we were 8. Somehow I knew we'd be together. She took my hand and we walked to school. But, for some reason, something didn't feel right. Of course, I said nothing. Just kept it inside.

We talked about school. She asked if I was nervous. With false bravado, I said, “Nah. Just another first day of school. No biggie.”

She turned and looked at me. A smile spread across her face. She was very pretty when she smiled. However, something didn't seem right. I found myself thinking of a way to get her to let go of my hand.

As we approached the school, I kind of purposely dropped my bookbag spilling the contents onto the sidewalk. Hurriedly I let go of her hand and stooped to start picking things up. She tried to help, but I told her that there was no reason for us both to be late and told her to go ahead, I'd be right behind her. The look in her eye registered hurt. She stared at me for a moment, then nodded, turned, and started walking alone toward the building.

As I gathered my belongings I wondered why I had tried to distance myself from her. Until that moment, I had wanted everyone to think she was my girlfriend. Why was it that all of a sudden I felt as if I didn't?

School was just that. School. Sure, there was the excitement of it being our first day of a school other than Elementary. My classmates and I had gone from being the 'top of the school' 6th graders to the bottom of the heap 7th graders. Our middle-school covered grades 7, 8, and 9. This was the first day of three years I would spend in these halls. Middle school is a time in a child's life where they go through almost as many changes as they did in the first year of life. However, for many, these changes are confusing and just a little bit scary.

As is usual for 'first days' this one was typically boring. The major difference was up until now, our days were spent in the same room with the same teacher. During the day she'd say to pull out books for one subject or another and we'd switch gears and start learning something different. Now, however, we would move from room to room having different teachers for each subject. That invariably caused the boredom level of the first day to increase. Having to sit there and listen to 5 different teachers telling us what to expect that year in their class. It was almost like they were reading from a script their talks were so close to exactly the same.

One thing I noticed as I moved from class to class was that very few of the students were in the same classes I was. Sure, we all had the same subjects, just not during the same class period. During the first period I had, for the first time in my life, I had a man for a teacher. The class was Math. My favorite subject, followed only by science.

I sat in the class waiting. My colleagues filtered in to the class and took seats at the desks around me. I'd sat in the center of the room in the center aisle of desks. Subconsciously, I guess so that I would just blend in. Eventually he entered the room. He was tall, and not that old. He seemed like he should still be in college. His hair was blond, almost white. He stood in front of the room perusing his students for that period. The bell rang and everyone sat in a desk, turned to the front and got quiet.

“Good Morning. My name is Mr. Hastings. Just to be certain, you should all be in 7th Grade Mathematics, please check your schedules and make sure this is where you are supposed to be.”

Everyone checked their schedules and one boy stood, with an embarrassed look on his face. “I guess I came into the wrong room. I am supposed to be in 7th Grade Science.”

Mr. Hastings smiled. “Don't worry, that's in room 132, this is room 123. It's a common mistake. Nothing to be embarrassed over. I guess I'll see you later today. He smiled at the nervous boy as he left the room.”

As that took place it gave me the opportunity to think. His voice was soothing. He sounded kind. I almost instantly felt I was going to like having him for a teacher.

After the boy left, he turned to the class. “I am not one who enjoys the tedious part of teaching, so, to make things easier, I would like to rearrange the class so that when I need to take attendance I don't have to call out everyone's name. So, I am going to have you sitting in alphabetical order. Would everyone grab your books and stand back against the walls. I will then call each of you by name and show you to your seats. I will start here in the first row with the first name on my list, moving back with each subsequent name.”

With that everyone stood. I walked over to the first desk of the first row and took a seat. My name is Trevor Aabrams. I seriously doubted anyone would have a name that was lower in the alphabet than I. Mr. Hastings looked at me. Did I see a smile, or was he confused. He approached me, but before he could ask, I said, “My name is Trevor Aabrams, Sir. I assumed this was going to be my seat. In the past there has never been anyone who's name was before mine in rollcall.”

He looked at me, then glanced at his roll book. He then smiled and addressed the class. “Since Mr. Aabrams has taken a seat, I guess I will change what I was going to do and start at the top, instead of the bottom.”

Now it was my turn to be embarrassed. I guess he saw it because he backpeddled. “Seriously, class, I honestly intended to start at the top, I just wanted you all to learn a lesson. Never make an assumption when you are in a situation you've never been in, you might be basing that assumption on something other than fact. It's better to see what's happening so you can react appropriately. Mr. Aabrams, you are in the correct seat.” He then continued down the list seating each of my classmates according to their name.

Once everyone was seated he looked at the class and began to discuss what would be happening that semester. What we would be learning and how he liked to teach. He told us that he would lecture for half of the class period, and give us the rest of the period to work on the homework he'd assigned. He said he remembered his first day of 7th grade and if he could help to reduce the amount of homework we actually had to do at home, he felt we would appreciate it. Boy was he right. He further said that the other reason for this was that if we had questions, he would be there to help make sure we got a solid foundation and understood the problems.

He then said something that put more fear in me than I'd ever expected. “Now, we're going to go around the room. I want each of you to stand, turn and face the rest of the class, and introduce yourself to them. Tell them your name, your age, something about yourself, and how you feel about finally making it to middle-school and what your most favorite and least favorite subjects are.”

I was petrified. I wasn't the kind of person who liked talking in front of a group. I also wasn't a person who like talking about myself. But, being first, as I was certain I would be, I didn't want to get the label of being contrary. After he was able to quell the murmurs going around the room he turned to me.

“Mr. Aabrams, would you please stand and begin?”

I stood, turned and face my classmates. With a bit of a nervous voice, I began. “My name is Trevor. Trevor Aabrams. I'm 12 years old. I am actually kinda excited about finally making it to middle-school. I like making new friends and I am glad to finally be considered old enough to take on some responsibility. I live with my mom, my dad died a few years ago. I don't have any brothers or sisters.” It was funny, but, as I talked I felt more confident. I continued. “I guess my least favorite subject is History. I think it's important to know what happened, but I don't think having to memorize a bunch of dates is all that important. As far as my favorite subject, I'm not sucking up, (this caused a few chuckles from my classmates) but I like Math. My second favorite subject is Science.” I looked at Mr. Hastings and saw he was smiling at me, I then turned to my classmates and ended with, “I hope we can all be friends.”

“Thank you, Trevor, that was perfect.” He looked at the boy behind me, “Mr. Alvarez, if you please.”

The boy stood. “My name is Hector Alvarez. I'm also 12. I live with my dad. My mother left us a year ago, but I don't like talking about that much. I don't think I'm all that smart and I hope I can make a few friends here who won't mind helping me when I get stuck on stuff. My dad is always saying, 'Hector, stop getting stuck on stupid.' it hurts kinda when he says that. So, I am not all that excited about the harder work of middle-school. I guess my least favorite subject is English, and my favorite is something I can actually be good at, P.E.”

He sat. I kinda felt sorry for him in a way. Mr. Hastings looked at him with a sympathetic kinda look and went on to the next student. I took a piece of paper out of my notebook and wrote my name, telephone number and address on it. I then wrote 'Hector, if you need help, I would be happy to give it to you. I hope we can be friends.' As I turned to pass it to him, Mr. Hastings snatched it from my hand. As the other student was continuing, he read my note, refolded it and put it in his pocket. I was busted.

When the last student had just about finished, the bell rang. Mr. Hastings told us that he'd see us the next day then he dropped the bomb. “Would Trevor Aabrams and Hector Alvarez please remain a moment?”

I'd fucked up. The first day, the first class, and I had already gotten myself and another kid who was totally innocent in trouble. I turned and looked at Hector, but all I saw on his face was surprise.

After the other students had left Mr. Hastings came up to us. Hector looked almost on the verge of tears. “Hector, don't worry, you did nothing wrong, I only asked you to stay because this effects you. Mr. Aabrams. Trevor. This is a little difficult because what you were doing was a very noble act, however, please, in future do not do it by passing a note.” He took the note out of his pocket and handed it to Hector who opened it and read it. A smile crossed his face.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Hastings. It's just that when he finished talking I thought he might be feeling kinda down, and I hoped I could make him happy. I promise not to pass notes any more.”

“You are forgiven, Trevor, and honestly I am proud that you were so willing to help a fellow student. Had this been another class with another teacher, you might have been in some serious trouble. Just consider yourself lucky. Hector, if you need help, I hope you take Trevor up on his offer, if not, you can always come to me if you need additional help. Now, you boys need to get to your next class.”

As we stood, Hector turned to me and said, “Thanks. I hope we can be friends too, and I will probably need a lot of help. I hope you still want to help me when you see how stupid I really am.”

“I don't think you're stupid, Hector, I just think that other people have told you so many times that you are that you believe it.” He smiled and walked out. As I was approaching the door, Mr. Hastings said, “I am glad you're in this class, Trevor.” I smiled back at him and went to my second class.

-*-

Fourth period was about to end. I looked at the clock while the teacher droned on and on about some British poet. I was in my literature class. I probably should have said this was my least favorite class instead of English. I watched the clock as it took what felt like 5 minutes for each minute to pass. We had lunch next. Lunch is probably one of the more stressful times in a kid's day. It's there that the social order of school happens. It's there that you are either accepted or made fun of. Making a good impression the first day at a new school when entering the cafeteria was crucial if the next 3 years were going to be positive.

Finally, the bell rang. As we were gathering our stuff, the teacher said, “Make sure to read the first 3 chapters in the book before class tomorrow, you never know, I might have a pop-quiz.” I was certain I wasn't going to enjoy Literature class.

As I was walking to my locker to drop off my books I saw Hector trying to get his locker open. He seemed to be having trouble with the combination. “Hey Hector, having trouble?” I asked enthusiastically.

“I can't get this fucking thing open! I did the combination three times already and it wont work!”

“Try again, I'll see if I can help.” I said.

I watched as he spun the dial. However instead of turning it counter-clockwise he was turning it clockwise. I explained to him how to do it without it sounding like I was telling him something he should have known. “These stupid school lockers are so weird. Try turning it the other way first to the first number, then turn it the other way, past the first number to the second, then back to the third.”

He did as I had told him and it opened on the first try. He smiled at me and said “Thanks.” I looked at his locker number then glanced down at the paper in my had which had mine. There was only one locker between his and mine. I opened mine and put my book-bag into it. I turned to Hector, “Wanna have lunch together?”

He looked down at the floor and said in a barely inaudible voice, “I don't have any money.”

I put my arm over his shoulder and said in a cheerful voice, “No sweat, I have enough for both of us. C'mon, let's eat, I'm starving.”

I felt him stiffen slightly when I put my arm over his shoulder but then he relaxed. “You sure?”

“Yeah, that's what friends do. You are my friend, right?”

He smiled. He actually looked good when he smiled. We walked to the cafeteria. Right before we entered, I took my arm off his shoulder. I wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong idea.

We went through the lunch line and as we were looking for a table Katie called over to me. We walked over and sat at the table with her. “Hi Katie, this is Hector, he's a new friend I made today.”

Katie looked at him and I didn't like the look she gave him. It was almost like she felt she was better than him. Nothing was said, but I decided to keep an eye on the situation. I introduced Katie to Hector as one of my best friends, she chose to correct me by saying, “He's more than one of my best friends, he's my boyfriend.” Hector seemed a little crestfallen. I was angry. Sure, Katie and I were friends. Sure we'd kissed. Under different circumstances I might had even considered asking her to be my girlfriend. But she was using it to put a new friend down. I laughed and said, “Yeah, I am a friend, and I am a boy, but if I wind up being your boyfriend in 'that' way still needs to be decided by both of us.”

The look she gave me had daggers in it. She stood, grabbed her tray and huffed off. She sat at a table on the other side of the room with a bunch of other girls. Two boys who had been sitting at the table behind us stood and sat next to us. One said, “Hey, I'm Mike. That was cool what you just did. This is my next-door neighbor, Eric. Is it okay if we join you?”

I looked at Hector who had a look of awe on his face. He shrugged his shoulders. I turned to the others and said, “I'm Trevor, and this is Hector, sure, have a seat!”

We joked around during the remainder of lunch. I'd made a couple more friends.

The end of lunch signaled the most dreaded class of any 7th grade boy's life. The first day of Physical Education. The first day we'd have to change clothes in front of other boys. It was also the first day we'd have to shower, naked, in front of other boys. Normally, I'm a pretty confident person. Except where it comes to my body. Things were changing and I was nervous about it. What if I didn't 'measure up'? What if the other boys were way more developed than I was. They'd make fun of me.

I started walking toward the locker room like that guy on 'The Green Mile'; “Dead Man Walking”...

Hector was walking with me. It seemed that he had PhysEd at the same time. We walked to the locker room and the doors were locked. There was a note on the door to report to the Gym. Hector and I walked over to the Gym and entered. We were told to take a seat on the bleachers.

There were about 30 boys in the class. We were talking when the teacher came in. He was wearing a grey sweatsuit. The school mascot was on the front of the sweat top. Around the logo were the words, “Hilldale Middle-school” above and “Huskies” below. He stood in front of the group looking at us. After a moment when we hadn't gotten quiet, he took his whistle and blew it really loud. It was quiet in an instant.

He said nothing for a good 30 seconds. Then in a voice that reminded me of a Drill Sergeant I'd seen on TV he bellowed, “My name is Mr. Butz. Before you start snickering I've heard it all before. From this day on, you will call me 'COACH'. This is one of those things I hate. The first day of a new year. A group of 7th graders who have never had REAL P E before. You guys are probably scared. You're gonna have to get nekkid in front of each other. Know right now, you all have a dick. Some will be bigger, some will be smaller. Some with hair, some without. At least at first, guys are gonna check other guys out. It don't mean shit. Just because someone looks at what you got, don't mean he's a fag. Just because you look at some other guy, don't mean you're a fag. If you have a problem with it, I have a problem with it. I don't want to hear any shit in the locker room. After we work out each day EVERYONE will shower. There are NO EXCEPTIONS to this unless you have a note from a doctor. Not just from Mommy or Daddy. You guys are going through of pretty big changes in your bodies. You have hormones rushing through your blood. Some of you are going to pop boners. If it happens, ignore it. That means you don't make fun of your classmates if they pop one, it could just as easily of been you. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?”

Everyone shouted, “YES SIR!”

“I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!!” He yelled.

Louder, we all responded, “YES! SIR!”

Quieter, he continued, “Now, that that bullshit is out of the way. I am honestly looking forward to this year. This will be the first time for many of you doing more than just running around. You will find that you are good at some things and not so good at others. Help each other. There are 30 of you and only one of me. This can be a fun class. An easy 'A'. Or, I can make it a living hell. The choice is yours.” He paused for what seemed like a minute, but was only about 15 seconds actually. Now, we won't dress out today, but I expect everyone to be changed and out on the field within 5 minutes of the bell tomorrow. Today, I am going to take you on a tour of the locker room. I will assign uniforms and lockers. If you don't already have one, you better get Mommy or Daddy to go out with you after school and buy at least 5 jock straps. Nobody wears underwear or boxers under your kit. Anyone without a jock might just get really embarrassed when they have to do the class in the buff. For those of you who are not familiar with the term, that means naked from the waist down.”

This caused a murmur. “Before you say it, I can, and will enforce that rule. Each and every one of your parents have read and signed the rules. Make sure you have your kit, all of it, and you'll never have to test whether I'd actually do it. Now, follow me.”

He started walking through the gym toward the locker room. He unlocked the door and entered. He got about 6 feet in and stopped. “Everyone come on in and close the door. This is my office. If you have a problem, my door is open. I'm actually easy to talk to. Boys your age sometimes get confused. I am here to talk to you don't have to be embarrassed. I am certain that some of you are having 'questions' about yourself. Look around you boys. There are 30 of you. Statistically, three of you are gay. That doesn't mean that any of you actually are, but statistically 10% of the population is homosexual. Let me make one thing clear. That don't mean squat. If one of your classmates turns out to be gay, the he's gay. It doesn't mean he wants what you got. It also doesn't mean that having a gay friend will make you gay. I know what I'm talking about. Trust me.”

There was another murmur from the guys. Coach didn't bat an eye. “The easiest way to fail this class is to get into a fight in the locker room. For any reason. Just remember that. Now... The next room is the equipment room. I want you all to line up. I will assign lockers and uniforms. You will then go back to your locker, open it, place your uniform in it. Those of you who brought your jocks can put them in there as well. You will be assigned 3 shirts and 3 pairs of shorts. I expect you to take home your dirty kit and have it washed. You will wear a fresh jock, clean shirt and shorts every day. Failure to have these will result in you spending the day in your birthday suit. Now, line up.”

We got in line. Since my name was at the top of the roll sheet, I got my uniform and was assigned locker number 101. Hector was given 103. I was kind of lucky that I was on the end of the first row, I only had Hector around me. I could see that Hector was nervous. We went to our lockers, opened them and put our uniforms in. Hector turned to me. He looked like he was about to burst out in tears.

“What's wrong, Bro?” I asked.

“I don't wanna have to be naked all the time. My dad says he can't afford to buy me a jock, let alone 5 of them.” He looked REALLY scared.

I made a fast decision. I reached into my locker and took out two of the brand new ones I had. “You and I are about the same size. Here. Take these. I will talk to my mom and we'll get you a couple more.”

He looked at me like I was crazy. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you doing this? You don't know me.”

“That's what friends do, Hector. They help each other.” I said with a smile.


Tears started falling down his face. I looked around and nobody was paying any attention to us. I wiped the tears from his face and said quietly, “It's no sweat. You are my friend, my Bro.”

He smiled. I smiled.

We'd made it through the first day of classes.

-*-

When I got home, I told Mom about Hector. I told her what I'd done about his jock straps. She looked at me and smiled. “You make me so proud, you know that?” Then she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a hug. She grabbed her keys and said, “Let's go replace yours and get a few for your friend.”

We went to the sporting goods store and got 5 more jocks. There were a few other guys from my class there. When they saw me they kind of looked embarrassed. I didn't think anything of it. We went home and I did my homework. Think if it... homework on the first day of school... that sucked.

Finally it was time for bed. I kissed mom good-night and went upstairs. As I undressed I realized I was actually happy with my own development. Recently my balls had begun to hang a bit instead of always being tucked up tight to my body. My dick was growing too. I grabbed a ruler and measured it. It was about 2” long when it was soft. It didn't stay that way. Just thinking about it, and touching myself caused me to bone up. Again, I took the ruler. I put it up against the top of my dick where it connected to my body. It was then that I noticed. I had a couple hairs growing in. That was totally cool. My hard dick measured up at almost 4 and a half inches. It caused me to smile.

I turned on the shower to the right temperature and hopped in. I soaped myself up saving my dick and balls for last. As I was washing, as was usual, it turned into a jack off session. Just me making love to my hand. I built up and had a pretty intense orgasm. Dry, but intense. I guess I'd start cumming soon enough.

I crawled into bed naked. I figured since I was growing up I would start sleeping that way. It just seemed right. I was exhausted. It was a busy day. I was alseep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

That first night of 7th grade I had the first of the dreams. I saw a boy's face. It was a boy I'd never seen before, I didn't know who it was. I was instantly attracted to him. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't get any closer to him. Everything about him was, well, cute. We stared at each other, neither saying a word. But I felt I needed to get to know him. All I could see was his face. Just before I awoke he looked deeply into my eyes and I heard a voice in my head. The voice was as close to perfect as I could have imagined. The voice said, “We will see more of each other... much more. We are meant to be together, we are meant to be one.”

End- Chapter 1.