Date: Sat, 12 Jan 2013 17:35:33 -0500
From: Jade <phantomscorpio77@gmail.com>
Subject: In the Shadow of Our Lives - Wings of Tomorrow 7

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>>).:.(<<


In the Shadows of Our Lives Part 2 - Wings of Tomorrow VII ~ In Search of
Our Song ~


"Nothing looks quite the same, I see people and places in a new light
again, There's a grace ascending to a broken sky, Now I know, there's a
reason why."

New Love In Town, By Europe.


>>).:.(<<

JON

I checked my phone when we finish watching Scream 3 at Bobbie-Sue's.  A
waste of a rental in my view, but I don't say so.  It sure gave Bobbie-Sue
a lot of chances to grab and hold Chris.  She knows he's 100% happily
homosexual, but watching her tonight I get the feeling that is not
deterring her from pinning over him.  It dawned on me through the movie
that she does in fact have a thing for him, and part of my proof is that
she's used every excuse possible to press her body to his.  Haha, she'll
never get to feel the closeness of his warm embrace when two bodies become
one, not on any level like I have, I think as we hug her goodbye and head
out.  No, while that's true, it's also mean and I don't mean to be so
catty.  I actually like Bobbie-Sue and her bubbly exuberance of life.

With Chris, he is typically flimsy in his hugs with friends, and I've felt
that hug.  But I've also felt the gently-clingy, strong-yet-tender embrace
that only comes out when he feels secure.  It's a hug that is supercharged
with all his love and vitality put into the simplistic human embrace.  In
my mind, when I think of being in that specific embrace, it sums up all the
passion and kindness that Chris Milner is.  Bottom line is that I inwardly
feel validated that he shrugs her off so easily but still holds me in his
arms and embraces me with the same beautiful caress I knew as his
boyfriend.  But I digress.  Snapping back to reality and casting off my
inward thoughts for now, I start to fidget with my phone.

By the time we are in the Dodge Ram that Chris is currently driving, he has
seen through my anxiety, "Babes, you're cute.  Even cuter when you're
squirming!  Call him back already, we both know you want to."

"How do you know it's Paul?" I try to casually ask.  I guess there's no
casual or indirect way to ask such an obvious question despite trying to
keep the excitement from my voice.

Chris acts all hurt, "I'll let you figure that out while you talk to him.
Don't mind my driving though.  I'll just be looking for a cliff to drive us
off of."

I call Paul back as soon as I listen to the message and invite him to spend
the night again.

I feel shitty that I do so in earshot of Chris, but he just smiles at me
and cracks a joke, "Don't worry Babes, you're old and all used up now.
Thankfully I got the best sex out of you that anyone ever will.  The rest
of you now is just my leftovers."

I steer that into something else, trying to not step on either of our
guarded feelings.  We said we'd be okay as just friends, and I think we
both try to be honest with each other but it's just easier if we avoid
talking about `us' in that way, "Yeah, well I'm sure Bobbie-Sue is envious
of me for that.  Did you see her tonight?"

He brushes it off, "Yeah, you have to know her to understand.  I'm like her
little sister that she's protective of."

"Chris!  I do know her and honestly, she was all but undressing you," I
point out.

Chris explains, "No she wasn't and you have to really know her like I do.
She tried that this spring, before you.  We tried, but I was not turned on
in the slightest and she knew it.  Tonight she was just being close to me
because she knows I'm ready to move on again.  But it did feel a bit
uncomfortable when I started getting back-sweat from her breasts pressed
against me for so long at one point!  That's why I cut out early, not so
that you could go home and wet your dick!"

I'm choking on laughter, "Wait, you tried to have sex with her?"

"Ewww!  Good lord no!  We had a little to drink and one thing led to
another.  Before you know it we're laughing at a fashion magazine and doing
our catwalk struts for each other.  That inspired our best attempts at a
striptease.  You can guess how she felt, and how differently I felt, about
seeing each other naked.  That was a couple weeks before we stumbled across
you at the April Fool's Beach Bash and she sucked up her pride and asked
you out for me."

"Kay, sorry.  You said something about moving on.  Someone on your radar
now?" I ask, so excited for him that I momentarily fail to realize it's me
he's moving on from.  But then I can't be jealous.  Okay, let me rephrase
that; I shouldn't be jealous.  I have no right to be jealous.  All the
same, I am in fact jealous.

Chris smiles.  It's such a devilishly cute little smile, "Babes, his name
is Andrei.  He's a huge introvert but what I've seen into the depths of
him, I really like.  He's a hockey player Babes.  He's with the Houston
Areos in the IHL.  He's totally closeted to them, but I get the feeling
he's dying to test the waters with me."

I'm floored, "How'd you meet him?"

Chris is now beaming his bright white smile, "Uncle Mitch took me to one of
their practices last week.  Some marketing thing he and Dad have on the go
and the meeting was right there by the ice while they were doing their
drills.  Andrei was tightening one of his laces on the bench.  He looked up
at me and I almost fainted.  He has the brightest baby blues I ever saw.
Next to mine that is.  He saw my rainbow necklace.  His eyes lingered way
long on it too, so I smiled at him.  He smiled back."

I'm strangely excited for Chris, I blurt, "Holy shit Chris!  A pro hockey
player, when were you going to tell me?"

Still gushing Chris explains, "Well he's not exactly a player for them.
He's with the Aero's and he plays hockey.  I like to blur that small
detail.  He never made it past house league.  No, he's a junior trainer and
is working with their players to develop personalized training routines.
He's 20 and going to UH.  The Aeros head trainer is his uncle, and he's
living with him while he's here for school."

"So how'd you hook up?" I demand.

"Well, like I said, he's not out.  But you should know I have a knack for
picking you closeted guys out.  So I took one of my dad's business cards
from my wallet and borrowed Mitch's pen to write my number on it.  It was
sorta cheesy, but when he was about ready to head out onto the ice I handed
him the dealership card while fidgeting with the rainbow necklace.  He
totally picked up on that so I flipped the card over to my number and told
him I have a hot sporty 83 model he might like to take for a test drive and
give him a great deal on.  He looked a little confused so I had to tell him
it was blonde with blue headlights.  Then a light bulb went off and he took
the card, and in the most gorgeous Swiss accent he told me he's interested
and defiantly would like to take me up on that test drive.  He called me
and we're going for a date Tuesday night."

"Does he know you're a minor?" I ask.

Chris smiles his little grin at me, the one where it seems his blue eyes
twinkle as trouble is stirring within them, "Don't worry Babes, I haven't
even kissed him so far!  You and Paul are light-years ahead of us for now.
Yeah, if a university student can do the simple math I expect he knows I'm
jail bait, but then sodomy is technically still illegal here in good 'ole
Texas too."

As Chris pulls up in front of my house I'm curious, "So how'd you know it
was Paul that called and not Ma all mad at me for being out or something?"

He cops a feel of my crotch and winks, "Cause you don't glow and adjust
this when you see your ma in your call display.  Go love your boy Jon."

Paul is already waiting for me when Chris drops me off at home.  We slip
inside and I wave to my ma who is in the living room with Larry as we
beeline upstairs.  Paul explains his state of tiredness having not slept
last night, and starts undressing while I go back downstairs to talk with
Ma.

"Is he staying again," Larry casually asks as I hit the bottom of the
stairs.

"Can he?" I ask, looking past Larry at my Ma.

She nods her head yes, "Jonny, I let Scott stay whenever he and Deanna
wanted to, I'll extend the same to you, but not on school nights.  And I
expect you'll respect us enough to keep it quiet, so that the rest of the
house doesn't hear.  Better yet, lie to your old Ma for me and promise that
nothing is going to happen anyway?"

I hug her and pass off an easy lie.  She did just order me to lie to her
after all, "Like I could even do that with you almost right below me!"

For a while Ma has involved Larry in the household decisions, but she is
invoking her privileges as the one who gave me life on this one as she
steers me to the kitchen, "Jonny, they stayed last night.  Is this going to
be an everyday thing?  I gather they can't stay at his house, but it will
raise just as much suspicion for him if he's always here, Larry for an
excuse or not."

"I know Ma, but it felt so right last night, having him in my bed feels so
right.  It feels so good to share the bed with someone," I say shrugging my
shoulders and almost physically shying away from any possible disagreement
on her part.

She nods, "Ha, tell me about it!  I've spent too many nights in an empty
bed myself, God bless your father.  But you have to decide if you love this
boy or he's just convenient.  There's no easy way to go back from where you
two are heading.  There's a child to think about.  A child, and you two are
still kids yourselves."

My answer is beaming, just like the smile on my face that it's told
through, "It's love Ma.  At least young love, even if I am thinking solely
with my head and not my heart."

Always looking at the bigger picture has been a tragic flaw for Ma, but
it's served her well.  In her typical fashion she points out the details
she thinks I've overlooked, "And Tim?  How do you think he feels about all
of this?"

I don't really pause to give it much thought, there's really no need to,
"Hmm.  Well he's the free dating service that got us together.  That and
he's gone ahead and told Paul an intimate detail about what I like."

To her raised eyebrows I add, "One that a boy's mother never wants to know,
gay or straight, so don't go there.  Take solace in that it's both harmless
and common.  Trust me, in no way is it a threat to my health.  Tim knew,
well, because he knows me.  So I'd have to suppose that sharing my erotica
with Paul to Tim would be a form of approval too, if he weren't already
actively telling me he loves the idea of us two lovebirds together.  Plus
if you haven't noticed he's on the phone all hours of the night talking to
Nat Wilson."

She lectures me, "He's a good friend Jonny.  Make sure you don't put a
wedge between him and you with Paul.  Be good to Tim."

"Yes Ma.  I know, I love him too," I say off the cuff.  I never can quite
tell with her as she's got a good poker face so just in case she's taken
aback I add, "In a very non-sexual way.  He only likes the ladies.  I gave
up dreaming of him a long time ago."

Ma tries to smile.  I think for the first time I can see in her eyes that
these conversations sometimes still take a lot of inner strength just for
her to even broach them with me, "Just promise me you'll think with your
head and guard your heart Jonny.  I only have one son."

"I will Ma, I promise I will.  I always do.  I only have this one life too
and I'm not going to fuck it up with AIDS or anything else," I find myself
saying before I realize that it's a lie.  The part about always being safe
that is, I've been stupid in the past and I have to figure out how to go
about getting tested again soon.

My mother gasps, "I wasn't even talking about that Jonny!"

It's been a while since I stuck a foot in my mouth like this, but I guess
my subconscious was missing the metaphorical taste.  I'm thinking yuck to
feet, but apparently it's thinking yum-yum.  Damn, my subconscious is
twisted.  Do I have a foot fetish?  I didn't think so, but maybe?  No, feet
can be cute I guess, but they don't make me hard or cause me to leak.
Speaking of feet, I should stop looking at my feet and say something to Ma
already!  I offer a weak smile and try to recover, "Oops!  Kay, yeah, well
just so you know, you don't have to worry about that in the future either
then.  If and when, we'll be safe.  Now that it's said, I'll leave it at
that."

"So what intimate detail have you told Tim and not me?  Know what?  You're
right.  Don't answer that.  A mother doesn't need to know everything.  Just
do yourself a favor and take things slowly Jonny.  Don't have him over
every night.  Remember the saying that the bigger the flame, the quicker it
burns out.  Keep your fire small and let it grow," Ma ends the conversation
as she pats my shoulder, forces a smile, and walks off.

I head for the stairs and up to my love.


>>).:.(<<

PAUL

It's just past nine p.m. on a Saturday night before the last week of
school.  I would expect Tim Matthew's to be out, possibly going down on
someone, not for him to home alone.  Instead as we pass his room he is in
bed, the hallway light revealing a sliver of his exposed bare back as he
quietly snores away.

I've slept in Jon's bed with him once now, and in hindsight it felt so
right.  For sure, I was more nervous than I thought I would be.  It felt
good to share a bed in general, and it felt even better that it was him.
Having him spooned to my back, his arm around me, our legs intertwined, and
his soft breath against the back of my neck as he drifted off to a peaceful
sleep had my heart racing.  It was everything I dreamed of and I was so
completely happy in his arms.  I don't know why I couldn't sleep.  Having
an erection most of the night might have had something to do with it.  The
new sensation of being completely nude in bed may have had something to do
with it too.  Aside from getting up naked to calm Belinda when she woke up,
it wasn't awkward at all, but I couldn't get my mind to rest.

I listened to Jon breathing as he slept, I listened to Belinda fuss at
times in her sleep, I listened to Tim Matthews occasionally snore in the
next room.  I heard Tim's alarm quietly go off at 2:00 am and I heard him
on the phone all sappy with a girl right after he shut the alarm off.  I
heard him jerk off afterwards and snore again.  I didn't sleep a wink
myself however.

I thought a lot about Jon and I, and our future now that we've made the
plunge and become sexual lovers and have spent a night together in bed.  So
now Jon is an integral part of my reworked plan because I am starting to
seriously fall in love with him.  How do I know this?  Well, it's simple;
he engenders in me the same feelings of pride and happiness that I never
knew until Belinda was born.  Jon is the second person in my entire life
that I feel so connected to.

When Jon went downstairs earlier to talk with his ma, saying he'd be right
back, I put my clothes back on and decided to wait.  I've been staring at
his poster for most of that time now.  When he finally comes back into his
room with his thumbs up and all smiles, I ask him about the poster of
lyrics by The Who, "Is that about Chris?"

"No, what makes you think that?" Jon starts, caught off guard before
admitting, "Yeah, at first it was.  It doesn't mean anything now really.
I'll get rid of it right now if you want."

"The blue eyes gave it away.  He has really intense blue eyes," I state.

"Huh?" He asks.

"You have brown eyes, so did Daniel.  I have green.  It was a toss up
between Matthews and Chris," I further explain.

"Oh.  Sorry.  I had one there before called `The Flame'.  It wasn't any
better though, it was my feelings towards Daniel.  You know, the Cheap
Trick lyrics?  I gave it to Chris 'cause he saw it when it was on display
in a mall with other stuff from our class," Jon tells the floor.

I lift his face to mine, "I know the one.  I saw it at school when it was
on display outside the art room and knew it was meant for Daniel.  I wished
it was for me even then.  What I remember most on that one was your
signature.  Your perfect handwriting."

Jon is on the verge of apologetic, "I'm going to give this one to Tim, he
likes it and although he doesn't know it, it was actually much more for him
than for Chris.  He helped me through losing someone.  Well, losing Daniel.
And he knew all along and never let on.  So he's my man Behind Blue Eyes;
and Chris was more my Crystal Eyes.  That's L.A. Guns, in case you're
interested.  I'll find something else for us."

I protest, "If you want.  I didn't bring it up to make you get rid of it.
In fact I think you should keep it, knowing what it means.  I just wondered
if my hunch was right."

"Yeah, dead accurate if you really thought it might have been both for
Chris and Tim.  Or Matthews as you baseball jocks call him."

"I call him Tim," I comment.

"You just called him Matthews a second ago," Jon points out.

"I guess I did.  Do you really think I'm a jock?"

"Yeah!  And you're all mine and I'm so lucky," He gushes.

"Well I'm not a jock anymore.  I have to actually play a sport to be one,"
I counter.

He debates that, "In your eyes maybe.  In my eyes you're everything I want
in a jock.  But don't worry about me being superficial or anything, the
number one thing I want in a jock is for him to be you, and for you to be
my boyfriend and make me feel the way you make me feel!"

"Did you take that from some song I don't know about, like that over
there?"  I kid as I nod towards the poster.

"I have a couple different songs for us so far.  Not sure if either's right
or not yet, the first one I think is more for me," Jon says, picking up a
sketchbook.

The first song is Coast to Coast by Europe:

You look out that window, for someone you know, But it all looks the same,
and time and again, It hurts you so

You wonder if always, you'll stand on your own, But bear in your mind, to
get through this time, You're not alone

When times seem so lonely, and your days seems too long, You wonder if you
will ever get through, and still be strong

But that's all of sadness, You stand on your own, It tears you apart, But
you know in your heart that you're not alone, no

Coast to coast and land to land, We're together hand in hand


"I like the Europe one better.  As for the other one, if we're going with
Def Leppard I'd go with `Two Steps Behind' instead of `Have You Ever Needed
Someone SoBad'.  Besides, our song should be something happier.  Not `Love
Song' from the Tesla Cd you've lent me either.  That one's more just about
you like the Europe song you've got here," I say as I put the sketchbook
down.  I don't mention that I have my friends in my garage band and some of
the guys from band at school working with me to try and reasonably cover
that song.  Jon looks slightly let down.

"Ah shoot, `Alone' by Heart maybe," I suggest and sing:

"Till now I always got by on my on, I never really cared until I met you,
And now it chills me to the bone.

How do I get you alone?  How do I get you alone?

You don't know long I have I wanted To touch your lips and hold tight, You
don't know long I have waited And I was going to tell you tonight."

I stop short, that song doesn't fit after all, so I suggest, "No. that
doesn't work does it?  Maybe Frozen Ghost, `Dream Come True'?"

"Love of my life you are all I ever wanted, To be with you is all I ever
really wanted.  You, you've made my life a fairy tale, You've added love to
a life that was so stale.  And know that I'll be here always for you, When
you need a friend, I give all of myself to you, Only you, My dream come
true."

I can tell Jon likes that one but as he undresses he still offers, "Blue
Rodeo, `Lost Together'?"

I sing,

"In the silence of this whispered night, I listen only to your breath.  In
that second of a shooting star somehow it all makes sense, And I want all
the world to know that you're love's all I need, all that I need.

And if we're lost, then we are lost together, Yeah if were lost, we are
lost together."

Stripped down to a pair of boxer briefs Jon shrugs, "Yeah, I think that
might be the one, maybe. We don't have to decide right now."

Before stripping down to my boxers I flip through Jon's sketchbook.  Page
upon page is filled with doodles or actual drawings, and every page has
lyrics from a song written in various fonts by his neat hand, either a
specific line or an entire song.  Flipping from one page to the next I can
see a lot of depression in the book.  I check on Belinda one more time and
then flick off the light, feeling my way over to the bed where Jon is
holding the bed sheet up for me.  I know he wants to fool around and I do
too, but my body is drained and I'm out like a light as sleep finds me
quickly tonight.  I remember cuddling him in my arms and that's about it.

>>).:.(<<

Belinda is fussy all night and keeps me getting up time and again.  She has
to have woken the house a couple times I'm sure.  Probably because of Tim's
watch alarm she wakes and I have to change her around 2 a.m. and sooth her
back to sleep.  That takes a good hour alone, and I guess it cut Tim's call
short and but didn't cancel his quick jack-off session.  Around 5:30
a.m. she is wide awake again.  Ms. Farrows comes upstairs and offers to
take her for me and let me get back to sleep for a while.  Around quarter
past nine in the morning Tim wakes us.

"I don't care if you're decent or not guys," Tim says as he walks into the
room and plops Belinda on me, "Charlene's hardly ten minutes out the door
for work and this one hasn't stopped crying for `Da' since."

Again I change Belinda and head downstairs to give her some watered down
juice and Cheerios.  Tim hovers over me like I might need his help, which I
do because I don't know where anything is in the kitchen.  I guess he's
thinking in terms of the movie `Three Men and a Baby.'

As I feed Belinda her Cheerios, Tim swats my arm, "Your song?  Jon has two
he's sitting on.  You can't tell him how I know.  I'm not even going to
tell you that, we'll say a little birdy told me.  Look up the Europe song
`Tomorrow' or White Lion's wedding song, I don't know the name of it but he
plays it a lot on his computer.  A little cheesy but they're totally you
guys.  One even has a guitar solo in it you could play for him!"

"You heard us last night?" I ask.

He blushes, "Um, yeah.  I mean no, only you singing, honestly."

"I could swear you were snoring when we came in," I question.

Tim just smiles, "Not me, it was only like nine.  I was playing my Gameboy.
Bandit sure sleeps heavy though.  I think he's half deaf, like shouldn't a
dog wake up and charge when people come in the house?  Either that or he
can't hear what's going on over his own snoring.  And he totally hogs the
bed.  You've got it good Hunter, I doubt you wake up to Jon licking your
face with dog breath because he wants to go water the lawn."

"No, Jon licks me somewhere else when he wants something," I joke.

As I clean Belinda up after she's done eating, Jon shoots us both deathly
glares as he strolls into the kitchen, drinks from the juice carton and
announces he's going back to bed.

Tim and I aren't exactly best friends but I really like him the more I
actually get to know him again, "How about you Tim?  I know you have a
thing for Nat."

He casts a hurt puppy look.  I'm positive it was both real and
unintentional as he quickly looks away, "Nah.  I know she's a good friend
of yours, but no.  We're only friends, she's made that clear.  Somehow
Farrows found out it was actually him she was after."

I've known Tim for years, but indirectly.  Come high school we lost
contact.  Same class but different group, same team but different clique;
that sort of thing.  We've always known each other but until he took an
interest in me this school year to get me together with Jon, we had become
merely acquaintances.  I don't know Tim enough anymore to be saying this
but here goes, "Actually, she thinks you have a thing for him, if you want
to know the truth."

Tim catches himself laughing but I can see the hurt.  He snarls, "Oh yeah?
I'm the gay one?  That's news to me!"

I shrug, "Damn!  Don't shoot the messenger okay?"

"Didn't mean to bare my fangs on you, sorry Hunter," Tim says more to his
feet than to me, "Well her loss anyhow.  I'm a catch she missed out on.  At
least Jon appreciates me!"

I'm bouncing Belinda on my knee but I want to console Tim.  I'm not overly
good at this, outward expressions of emotion that is, having had to keep
everything bottled up for so long.  Still, I pat a hand on his shoulder,
like in baseball when a guy flies out on a full count to end an inning but
his teammates pat him on the shoulder for a good effort.

"So I have no chance anyways?" He asks.

He can handle honesty.  He's keeping my secret yet it's a tough balancing
act for me.  Do I trust he'll take my honestly and appreciate it, or do I
just brush it off?  My life's in his hands either way, I might as well
shoot straight with him so that he can at least know my honesty, "None.  I
know she was mad Jon shot her down this summer, but she's moved on.  Barry
Hershey is her dream guy now, at least according to Jackie."

"Fuck, I should have known when I gave her his number!  Oh fudge, sorry for
swearing," Tim smacks himself on the forehead, "I'm so stupid!  So what,
Jackie thinks I'm gay too?"

"No.  Not at all, he knows you.  He's just glad you're not doing his
sister.  He's glad that no one is for that matter, it creeps him out just
talking about it," I continue with honesty, this is a bonding moment
between Tim and I.  Jon is his friend, he lives with Jon, but I need Tim on
my side too, "To be honest he sorta bought into the whole rumor about Jon
being gay though.  Now he thinks he knows for sure because of his
friendship with Chris.  He recently told me that he and Nat saw Jon and
Chris at the mall alone together once, holding hands, until Jon recognized
them.  I guess since then he's jokingly told me to watch out for Jon and
things like that.  If only he knew.  At least he never put it together that
I tried to do my hair like Chris back at the start of summer.  Come to
think of it, I don't really know what he even thinks of me.  Lately I think
he might have put it all together."

Tim locks his eyes onto mine, "Aren't you afraid that someone's going to
out you?"

It's a social thing, if you can't look someone back in the eyes you are
either guilty of something or lack the confidence of the other person.  Or
so I've been led to believe in my experiences.  I'll give him the upper
hand, I just can't look back into his eyes.  I concede his superiority,
"Every day of my life.  You know I wouldn't dare come out here, even if
times have supposedly changed.  It may be `in' to be gay on T.V. but it
sure ain't cool to be gay here yet.  Michael Edwards is proof of that.  And
on top of that, it isn't even legal to be gay here yet either."

Having won the upper hand, he is free to look another way at will as he
directs his question at me, "So what are you going to do about it?"

"Never give anyone anything to talk about while we're still here," I say
shrugging my shoulders, "We're looking into going to school somewhere far
away next year, somewhere more liberal."

"Jon's told me all about it.  You guys really are serious about Canada?" He
asks.

I shift Belinda to my other knee, "Yeah.  A new start.  It may not be
perfect there, I'm sure we'll still get our share of harassment, but they
seem to be a lot further along to acceptance there than we are here.  I
talked with the guidance office last week and they're going to help with
the applications and information we need for student visas."

Again Tim shows a flicker in his pale blue eyes of being hurt, "You sure
it'll work out for you two.  I don't mean to be negative, but you've hardly
been together for long."

My answer to Tim sounds like bullshit but I wholeheartedly believe it to be
true, "Yeah, but it seems like we have been together for a long time at the
same time, because we've known about each other, and liked each other on
some level, almost like we were dating for some time now."

He presses, "You really believe that?"

I feel exposed but at the same time Tim seems so genuine.  He's
entertaining my daughter with her happy face rattle as he talks to me,
"Yeah.  I just know he's right.  When it's just us it's magic.  Not sex, we
haven't gone there yet.  I'm sure you'll be the first he tells when we do.
Yeah, he's perfect, and I want to be able to express it in public, not just
here.  I want to be able to go on a date with him to dinner or a movie.  He
feels like a part of me that was missing but has been returned.  It sounds
like a bunch of bull, but true love has always sounded like a load of crap
all throughout history hasn't it?  The romance movies we cringe at come
from someone's heart and express what most of us are too conditioned to
ever reveal.  I want to hold him every night for the rest of my life.  Tim
I want to make love to him so badly!"

Tim mock-kicks my shin, "Well then get your butt back up in his bed, I'll
watch cartoons with your little princess here while you do!"

Answering Tim, I must be a hundred shades of red, "Yeah right, not going to
happen.  It has to be spontaneous, and I don't want you directly below us,
purposely babysitting Queen B and listening in while it happens."

"Queen B, huh?" He repeats while simultaneously understanding that is my
nickname for Belinda, "Oh well, good.  Not that Queen B and I would mind,
what with Blues Clues or The Big Comfy Couch on, we'd be totally occupied
with her asking me for `Da' and my saying `no'.  But don't worry about me,
I know it's going to happen sooner or later, and I'm ready for it.  Heck
it'll be sooner than later I'd suspect.  I'd just rather be getting some of
my own so I'm not jealous of you two lovebirds."

"Yeah, totally," I agree, almost turning it into locker room talk.  But
then I realize Tim is above that, "So do you think people are talking about
me and Jon?  My brother said something that rattled me last night."

"Yeah, if people see your car over here all the time they'll put two and
two together.  But no, no one's talking yet that I know of," Tim says with
his serious, yet light way as he rinses his and Belinda's dishes and places
them in the dishwasher.

"Ah shoot," Is all I can say to that.

Tim's quick to add, "But remember, apparently I'm one of you.  Mickey, Ray,
and the guys wouldn't say anything about Jon to my face.  I'd only know for
sure if Neil or Tania hear something.  And the last few weeks, all I hear
is Jon playing his Linkin Park CD.  Can't wait to give him the Izzy
Stradlin CD for Christmas that I got his sister to special order for him."

As Tim leads me to the couch in the living room I'm curious about how he
really feels about Jon.  Talking about Nat got the ball rolling in my head.
Tim is self-professed straight, but I find that odd given the way he seems
to care for Jon, "So now you know Nat thinks you're gay.  Tell me, would
you ever sleep with a guy?  Like do you look at a guy and think `I'd do
him'?  Jon maybe?"

Tim again fixes me straight in the eye as I put Belinda down on the couch
beside me, "No.  I notice hot guys I guess, like everyone does.  We all
compare in the showers and can't help but notice a stud.  The thought did
get my rocks off when I caught someone looking up my shorts.  And it chubs
me up a bit sometimes when he so blatantly drools over me in my baseball
gear, but I don't really fantasize about it.  He's the only guy I'd ever
even consider messing with."

"You can say Jon's name," I point out, a little upset at what Tim just
revealed.

He steadies a hand on my bare shoulder, "To tell the truth, I even thought
about fooling around with him when he got really down and wanted nothing
more than to tell me about himself.  Not like full-on sex or anything.  It
was the only way I could think of to get in his head that he's not a bad
person.  I pushed the boundaries and sexual tension way farther than I was
comfortable with but I couldn't even bring myself to jack off in the same
room as him when it came right down to it."

"What?" I ask incredulously.

"We were going to you know, jack off together.  But we haven't, just for
the record.  I guess you should know I have slept with him a bunch of
times, in a totally non-sexual kind of way.  Let's see, what else?  Oh!
I've pantsed him a thousand times, enough to know he shaves and trims.  But
he got me good with that too.  One time he got so tired of pulling up his
shorts in my pool that he just kept them off with his flag pole raised to
teach me a lesson.  He didn't put them back on until after my mom got home
from work and came out back for something.  She probably saw them, and him
in his birthday suit, but she never said anything directly.  And I've
kissed him."

I almost choke, "You've kissed him?"

"Yeah, that one was weird.  More for him than me, if you would believe it.
He kissed me.  I knew at the time he was gay even though he hadn't told me
yet," Tim explains, "It was totally accidental, he woke up and kissed me,
said he mistook me for someone else.  The way he is in the mornings, like
today for example, I doubt he's actually awake before the lunch bell at
school, so I believe him when he says it was a groggy moment.  My only gay
kiss and he had to make it clear to me it was a mistake.  That was in his
bed.  I was in it because I spilled a bottle of soda in mine.  He had just
woken from a dream that had him worked up.  He finally came out to me then.
So I kissed him back a few minutes later to tell him he's alright.  The
story was convoluted and he rambled a mile a minute, but I'm sure it was
you he said he was dreaming of at the time that he woke and he meant to
kiss you not me.  After kissing me it all came rushing out of him."

"And that's when you befriended me again after all these years, and played
matchmaker between Jon and I?"  I tease.

Tim points out, "Hey, the way I figure it, if he's going to be trying to
look up someone's shorts when they spot him on the bench press, it should
be yours.  Not that he can actually see up our shorts, but you get the
point.  Yeah, I tried to throw you two together as much as possible for a
good month before I finally got you two together!  And besides, it was your
friends who were too cool to be seen with Neil and I once we hit Parkwood."

That's true enough when I think about it.  We were all friends back then,
going into high school.  Then grade 9 happened and Jackie and Wayne and I
just fell into a different clique than Tim and Neil.  Tim and Neil became
good friends with Daniel Rice and a bunch of kids that came from a
different junior high than us.  Jon came from yet another feeder school
along with Michael Edwards.  My brother Luke probably shared classes with
Jon's sister Candace at some point as they were in the same year.  Ditto
for my brother Peter as he was in the same grade as Jon's sister Lacey.
It's a wonder how close and yet so distant people can be to one another.

Filled up on Cheerio's and watered down juice, Belinda is all ready to take
on the day.  She keeps squirming out of my grip, or so she thinks.  I have
a finger hooked through the belt loop in the back of her little pink
corduroy overalls so she can't get far.

My mind comes back to Tim, "Would you kiss him again?'

Tim squirms a bit, "Not kiss-kiss him, no.  Not like you.  Give me a female
version of him and I'm all in.  All the same, I don't see anything too
terribly wrong with kissing a gay best friend on the lips, especially if it
meant something to one of them."

"Well, hands off Matthews, he's mine," I joke.

"You can have him, mostly because he doesn't like seeing the p.m. dot
missing from his alarm.  He thinks that if that dot isn't lit up then he
shouldn't be out of bed on his days off.  He once told me that unlike the
rest of us, he doesn't buy into the popular theory that the sun needs to
rise before noon.  If we're ever going to talk while we're at college, he
should be on the east coast and me on the west, not the other way round.
Oh, tickle his feet if you get tired waiting on him to get up, he'll jolt
from dead asleep to fully awake in an instant," Tim shares.

"Can you hold Belinda for a sec?" I ask as I hand her over to him.  I sneak
upstairs and return with Jon's sketchbook, taking a moment to slip on my
pants and my undershirt while I'm in Jon's room.  Flipping through the
pages I ask, "What do you make of this?  Is Jon depressed or something?
Don't tell him I showed you this, but should I be worried?"

Tim flips the pages before handing the sketchbook back to me, "I don't
think he's ever really depressed, he just gets sad sometimes, a little
withdrawn maybe.  I think he finds all those pages inspirational, actually.
He likes deep quotes written over thought provoking drawings.  It's his
thing."

"Is it a cry for attention?"

"No.  Anytime I've seen him get real sad, he still laughs easily.  He's
just super-sensitive.  And he talks about it mostly, different things to
different people.  If not to me, then to you now, or his Ma, Dee, sometimes
Candy, Larry, or Chris.  He chats and emails a lot with his internet-friend
Duncan.  Larry's the expert, though, like seriously studied psychology, so
if he's not worried I wouldn't be."

"Phew," I say, thankful that I misinterpreted his sketchbook.  They are
just extensions of his personal taste in artwork not a cry for help.


>>).:.(<<

JON

It's almost 11:00 when I wake.  Paul once called me a lightweight and
jokingly suggested that I stick to light beer.  I can't even handle that it
would seem.  I had three and a half beers while watching the movie last
night.  I figured why not, I wasn't driving.  I ended up finishing half of
Chris's second beer.  It's not that I got drunk, I was far from that as was
evident from my conversation with my Ma late last night.  It's not even
that I am hung over, 'cause I'm not.

No, it's just that alcohol doesn't seem to sit well in me lately.  More and
more I get the worst pains in my abdomen from drinking if I don't eat
something substantial enough to absorb the brunt of the alcohol.  Last
night was one of those times.  Paul says he didn't sleep at all two nights
ago?  He slept like a baby last night and I know so because I was up until
past midnight this morning wishing that I had eaten with the beers. Which
reminds me; I want to know just who Tim is on the phone with in the middle
of the night lately.  I caught it last week when I got up to go to the
bathroom and again last night while Paul was changing Belinda.

Opening my eyes, I notice that I am alone in bed.  I think Paul and Belinda
are gone at first, but coming to my senses, I can hear him downstairs
picking at his guitar.  Rolling out of bed I throw on my near-white cargo
shorts.  Initially I throw on a t-shirt, but then I see the long-sleeve
blue and white Blackburn Umbro shirt that Paul was wearing yesterday is
folded on top of Belinda's night bag.  I discard my t-shirt and pull his
shirt on instead.

It smells like him, at least his deodorant if not his cologne.  I'm not too
sure I can actually detect the scent of Armani's Aqua Di Gio, maybe it's in
my head but I decide I can smell it on the neck.  I definitely can smell
his Degree fresh-scent deodorant.  Clean and citrus blended with vanilla.
Maybe he's the subconscious reason I like vanilla.  With the shirt still
over my face, I inhale deeply, searching for the musty scent of my boy on
the shirt.  All I get is the fresh scent.  Maybe the sleeveless shirt he
must be wearing now will prove more fruitful for me.  I'll ransom this
shirt for it before he leaves today.

I slide his sleeves up my arms until they are above my elbows as I quietly
pad my way to the stairs.  At first I can't place the song, he's singing so
quietly that it's almost drowned out by the guitar.  It sounds like Air
Supply.  `All Out of Love' I think.  He only works a few lines of it, over
and over again before rolling it into Survivor's `The Search Is Over'.
Rather than strum the guitar he taps it lightly to emulate the piano
accompaniment to his singing.  His voice is a lot more sharp and clear.  I
sit on the top stair and listen as that gives way to the acoustic guitar
intro into Survivor's `I Can't Hold Back'.

He goes back to what I first heard when I woke up.  I'm not certain but it
sounds like he's working out Chicago's `You're The Inspiration'.  Yep, as
he starts singing it confirms that.  He doesn't hit the high notes like
Peter Cetara, but he sings the parts clean all the same.  He pauses and
talks to Belinda, thanking her for being such a good audience and for not
being a critic.  He then starts singing `Never Tear Us Apart' by INXS
without the guitar.

I've snuck down to the bottom of the stairs before he stops.  I look over
towards the doorway to the living room and he is there, holding Belinda.
He blushes, aww he's so cute.  I can't help myself; I get up and go over to
him, planting a kiss on his juicy lips when I get to him.  It makes my
heart skip a beat every time we kiss because he is kissing me back far more
freely and much more passionately with each kiss now.

Paul sets Belinda down.  He looks tired, "Good, you're up.  I didn't want
to wake you but I have to get to work soon."

"I thought you didn't have to work Sundays," I ask, surprised that he's
working today.

Paul shrugs and purses his lips tight, "Yeah, I know.  I never got a chance
to tell you.  My old boss from sports Authority saw me at Walmart a while
back and found out I am a lead cashier there.  So he asked if I would come
back and do casual labor for the Christmas run.  I need the extra cash and
couldn't turn down their flexible schedule.  12-5 on cash today.  They pay
cashiers almost double what I got for working the floor last summer."

I can't see how he's going to get there in time.  I question, "Does that
give you enough time to get home, drop Belinda off, shower and get there.
Aren't you running it too tight?"

"Sorta yeah, but I was hoping you could watch Belinda and I could shower
here and borrow some of your clothes.  I know you have shorts that I can
wear and get away with.  I'll have to buy a new work shirt today.  I
definitely don't need another, but I'll have to buy one so I have one for
today.  Nothing I can do about it now, anyhow," Paul explains with a
hopeful look.

"Yeah, sure," I agree without thinking.

I want to make him happy so I say yes before he's even got all the words
out.  It's a good thing he didn't just ask me if I'd like to jump off a
tall building with him, because I'd say yes before realizing what I just
got myself into.  Like seriously, I've never looked after a kid in my life,
let alone an infant.  Leaving Belinda in my unskilled care is probably
parental negligence on his part or something!  I sure hope Ma doesn't go
out with Larry after church like they seem to do most Sundays now.

I pick up Belinda and lead Paul up to the bathroom.  Handing him a towel I
tell him I'll look for the shorts he was referring to.  I have a pair of
tan cargo shorts that I assume he means because they are the closest I can
think of that match the uniform I can recall.  All I have to do is remember
back to the summer; I was following that cute ass in tan shorts through the
mall that indeed turned out to be his, and then classic me, I walked
straight into a garbage can.  Ah, good times!

Now the shirt is another story.  It was riding up, exposing a bit of
waistband from his underwear, and like a quarter inch of his tan back.
What colour was it?  I'm such a moron, I could tell you the colour of shirt
the staff at McDonald's are wearing this month, but I can barely picture
the Sports Authority's uniform!  They wear blue golf shirts I think, or is
it red?  Blue t-shirts?

I hear the lock being engaged in the door.  Haha, that's cute.  We've slept
together, I've been naked with him, but he locks the door to the bathroom?

Turning away from the bathroom I put Belinda into her crib, which she
instantly voices her displeasure over, and start to hunt for the shorts.  I
feel like a skid when I reflect that dressers are a pain in the ass versus
the shelves that used to line my old room.  I laugh out loud at how lame I
am when I tell myself I'm still getting used to using a dresser.  Next step
is table manners I guess, they'll make a domesticated boy out of me yet!

I find the shorts I think Paul is referring to and dig up my green rugby
shirt for him to wear on his way to work.  I pull out a pair of plain white
socks too.  I hesitate when I get to my underwear drawer.  I guess he'll
want a clean pair of underwear to wear, but it's the whole stigma of
wearing someone else's clean underwear.  He got all weird when I told him I
figured we'd share underwear in the future.  Maybe he's the kind of guy
that wears a pair for more than one day?  I hope not, not that I've ever
spotted him doing it, but I also haven't been too successful at accurately
identifying his underwear every day.  Many days at school I never see what
he's wearing underneath, despite my best attempt.  I really don't know his
mannerisms yet to be honest.  Like I did the time with Tim when we got
kicked out of his apartment, I just lay the options out on my bed and I'll
let Paul decide.

He is out of the bathroom in unreal time, proving that Tim might be on to
something when he says I am like a woman when it comes to showers and
getting ready.  Paul is still slightly dripping with a towel wrapped around
his waist as he comes into my room.  His hair looks perfect, albeit wet.
He has his clothes bunched up in front of him, and is carrying a Dixie cup.

Looking at the spread of clothes on my bed he smiles and kisses me,
"perfect, thanks."

There's dead silence.  We're both smiling.  He's nervous about dropping the
towel.  I wink and turn around.  "It's not you Jon!  I don't feel right
changing in front of B.  Could you take her for a sec?"

Oh, duh!  How stupid of me!  "Yeah, no prob, sorry," I say picking Belinda
up again and heading downstairs.

A couple minutes later Paul comes downstairs smelling of my Polo Sport and
deodorant.  He hands me his keys, "You can drive right?"

Um no, not really.  Tim has been trying to teach me in his Mustang but I
always grind the gears.  I make Ma nervous when I drive her van.
Technically I can drive, how well is debatable, "Yeah, but why?  You have
enough time at least still to find a parking space."

"No, I can't drive without my contacts.  They were itching so I just took
them out.  I forgot my solution this time and didn't really think to store
them in water overnight," He informs me as he points to a slightly puffy
and pink eye.

"How can you work if you can't see enough to drive?" I carefully ask.

He explains, "I can see fine up close mostly, just not distances.  I'll be
fine to work, but I'd rather not drive."

"Kay, just don't laugh at my driving," I say, agreeing to drive his car.

Paul shows me how Belinda goes into and out of her car seat, and then I am
on the spot.  I am nervous as hell about driving his car, and naturally I
grind the gears the first time I shift into second.  Paul's only comment is
to `drag the clutch' meaning keep the clutch in slightly until I have the
car moving properly.  I do a lot better with his car than with Tim's, and
find that with a lot less power the car gives me a lot more room for error.
I do well enough that Paul doesn't seem worried about me driving Belinda
home without him in the car.  Now if he only knew I don't have a full
license that might be a different story.

I do an alright job of driving home.  I didn't even roll back once, and
only missed a gear a couple times.  I didn't stall the car at all this
time.  It's one of those times I wished someone actually was looking over
my shoulders and paying close attention to my driving.  My biggest struggle
is with the car seat.  It looks all simple to get Belinda out of it, but I
take my time because I am going to have to strap her back into it if I
can't get someone to watch her tonight when I have to pick Paul up.

Belinda and I have an alright afternoon at first.  With no one home I am at
a loss what to do when I have to change Belinda.  I try Ma at Larry's but
there is no answer there.  I try Dee, but Scott says she's somewhere on the
road from Austin to Houston with some inventory transfers.  His advice is
obvious; change the diaper.  I almost risk calling Lacey of all people for
help, but come to my senses quickly enough.

It's three in the afternoon, and Belinda's needed changing for a good hour
when it hits me; I call Tim's mother.

After assuring her that everything is alright with Tim and that he's not
home yet from today's practice amd workout, I beg her to walk me through
changing a diaper.  She has a better grasp than me about what to do even
though she is hundreds of miles away.  I never equated Belinda's night bag
as a fully stocked bag.  I mean yeah, I figured that diapers would be in
there, but Mrs. Matthews described the change table liner, wipes, powder,
disposal pouches and other contents of the bag as if she were right there.
Mission accomplished!

After walking me fully through the process she asks me to jot down a
Christmas list for Tim.  She has everything he is to buy down to size,
colour, price, and at which store to get what.  She then wishes me good
luck with Paul and Belinda.  I clearly remember avoiding explaining whose
kid I was watching, so I know that Tim has told her all about me.  I'm
taken aback and stupidly say so.

She tells me that yes, Tim has told her many things, and she's quite happy
for me and comfortable with my friendship with Tim.  She claims that she
saw my eyes linger over Tim the way girls do and knew back when I used to
stay over that I fancied boys, adding that she was prepared to hear from
Tim that he did too.  She makes me promise not to tell Tim she said so, but
she was almost convinced we were boyfriends when she would come home to him
stripping me in her pool all the time.

I guess I have a right to be mad at Mrs. Matthews if I choose to, for
expressing relief that it's not her son she has to worry about, just her
son's gay friend.  But I get her, so why be mad?  Mothers, what can you do?
Deciding to embrace her forthrightness rather than be mad, I assure her
that Tim is completely heterosexual, and in return for her candour, I tell
her in secrecy that he's revealed to me he's still a virgin.  I can hear
the smile in her voice.  We chat for a couple more minutes about Tim and
then I let her go.

Less than half an hour after changing Belinda she needs changing again.
Great.  Around 4:30 I am getting Belinda ready to drive back over to the
mall and pick Paul up when Tim finally gets home.  His black uniform has
the usual culprits on it; dirt and grass stains, and some pizza sauce to
boot.  He stops me from driving, "You planning on driving without a license
Cheesedick?"

Thankful that he's home, I ask, "How about you come with me and that way I
have a licensed driver with me?  That'll meet the conditions of my
learner's permit."

I can tell it's not what he'd really like to be doing, "Yeah, sure, fine."

I buckle Belinda in and we're ready to go.  When I start heading to the
mall Tim asks, "You even know where you're going?  Walmart's the other
way!"

"I know.  He's at the mall.  Sports Authority again," I correct him.

"Isn't Jackie Wilson working in your store right now?  He wasn't at
baseball today," Tim asks.

Not sure what Jackie has to do with anything I ask, "Yeah, why?  Different
stores, it's not like he'll be waiting with Paul."

Tim points out, "Well, he could be.  You don't know for sure.  If Jackie is
working at the music store, which he is, it might totally out you two if he
sees you driving Paul's car.  Slim chance, but still a chance."

I start to worry and pull over into a variety store parking lot a couple
blocks from the mall.  At first I don't know what to do, send Tim alone?
No, that still raises too many questions.  And then the answer comes to me;
Bobbie-Sue.  I fish my cell phone from my pocket and give her a call at the
music store and beg her to discretely run over to Sports Authority and
drive Paul over to my place.  It takes some convincing, namely giving her
the goods on Andrei.  I tell her I feel so bad for ratting Chris out to
her, and she just laughs at me.  She reminds me yet again that after the
heartbreak she's always the one piecing Chris back together, so he can't
fault her for a little pre-emptive bribery.

Getting off the phone Tim shoots me a look.  I ask, "What?"

I get a quick lecture, "You better not usually be that easy of a pushover.
You'll never make it if you keep thinking with your heart and dick alone,
use that muscle in your head.  And I don't mean your tongue."

I shrug, "It's not like I told her anything she didn't already know.  Chris
tells her everything, just like I tell you everything.  Just like you tell
your mom everything!  Oh wait, almost everything.  I told her you're a
virgin today, although she didn't sound surprised, a little relieved all
the same, but not surprised.  She trusts you.  Me, if you were my son I'd
be sending you to the doctors to get checked for STD's monthly.  I wouldn't
believe a teen-god like you could possibly be a virgin.  But then, I am a
little biased."

"Yes, you are.  You want my virginity warm, and shot straight into your
mouth but you'll settle for sucking it out of my underwear," Tim quips.

I vehemently protest, "No, and no!  Wrong on both accounts!  Kissing you
will suffice.  Unless you get really drunk again, then I might cop a feel
for good measure too.  Just being honest Timbo.  Still, I wouldn't take
your virginity, and I don't mess around with your undies.  Not even the
ones you purposely put on display for me instead of in your hamper.  Or is
it that you are too lazy to put them away when the rest of your room is
uncommonly spotless?"

He tries to act smug, "Why would you wait till I'm drunk to cop a feel?
You've done it enough when we wrestle."

I push the envelope, "Yeah well it's not my fault you get boners when
you're busy kicking my ass.  I just sit back and enjoy.  You know, casually
rub your one eyed monster and fantasize about you all hot and naked, your
hips pumping against mine as you sweat above me."

"You wish," He scoffs.

I set the truth free, "No, wrong again.  Yeah, I used to wish, 'kay.  I
used to try to accidentally wrap my hand around your meat.  We both know I
never succeeded.  I never could come up with the right excuse to pass off."

Tim undoes the belt in his baseball pants.  I try to look away, but I see
enough to know that he's trimmed recently because he's pulling the
waistband of his compression shorts out and fishing his penis out of his
cup.  With his soft penis exposed, he looks at me with a serious face, "One
time offer Jonny."

What a dick.  I mean him, not his dick.  Well both actually, but still.  He
has just mindfucked me, "Fuck off, asshole.  Put that thing away, we're in
my boyfriend's car.  A year ago, a month ago, I'd be deep throating and
have your pubes between my teeth right now.  Don't mess with my head now."

Tim tucks it all away, zips his fly up, and fastens his belt.  He offers a
genuine and soft spoken, "Sorry."

"What the fuck's wrong with you?" I ask, thankful that I'm still in the
parking lot at the variety store.  I'm too startled to resume driving at
the moment.

Tim's face is bright red, he looks out the window, "I got into it again
with Neil today.  Tania has his focus completely away from baseball
nowadays.  He loves Tania, he hates Tania, he wants to marry Tania, he hits
Tania.  He actually admitted that.  I told him to end it with her and he
throws me a punch.  I threw a few back.  Pop, pop, pop and his head is
bouncing off the ground.  Mickey says on the third one Neil was already
going down and I pulled him up into the punch.  It's not just Neil though,
it's something Hunter said this morning too, and I just snapped on Neil.
Coach Ramsey went ballistic on me and now I'm taking it out on you."

"What did Paul say?" I demand.

I've seen Tim mad a grand total of twice since I've known him; once when
Michael Edwards brought the bat to beat Daniel and I for Valentines, and
once when I got him kicked out of his apartment.  This makes three, "That
the talk is I'm a homo.  I guess to most people it's you and I, but
apparently some people think you're straight and I'm the one coming on to
you."

I try to defend his honour, "Who's saying you're gay?  I haven't heard
that.  Did Paul tell you that?"

He dejectedly explains, "That's what Hunter heard from Nat or Jackie.
Jackie totally knows about you by the way.  He's told me so, and he wasn't
all that subtle when he added that he's also told Paul that much too.  But
Nat?  She's passed me over as `safe' and is going after Barry Hershey now."

Now it's my turn to offer a soft spoken condolence, "Sorry."

He continues to vent, "I cornered Mickey at practise to see what he knows
and he told me that Barry Hershey screwed her in his car at the same fair I
hooked you and Hunter up at.  Yeah, the very next day after I spent all day
taking care of her while you and Hunter were hooking up.  Mickey and Ray
went with Barry and her, and they had to find their own way home because
when time came to leave, Nat was riding Barry in his back seat.  Hell, she
fucked him behind my back and I haven't even gotten off of first base with
you."

"Sorry," I again offer.  At least he doesn't brush my hand away when I
reach out and put my hand on his shoulder.  For a moment with my one hand I
massage his collarbone with my fingers and knead my thumb into the thick
muscles in the back of his neck.

"What burns the worst is that Mickey confirmed that he and some of the guys
think you and I are boyfriends."

I pull my hand from Tim, wondering if I've inadvertently been too
touchy-feely with him in public and been caught.  If someone saw us just
now, they'd probably take us for boyfriends.

By the time I make it back into my driveway I have only enough time to get
Belinda out of the car seat when Paul gets dropped off by Bobbie.  I guess
he's perturbed that he has a car and I didn't use it to pick him up.
Great, everyone's moody tonight.  He stays only long enough to thank me for
watching Belinda, put his contacts back in, and assure me he's not mad at
me.  Then he's off to church band practice.


>>).:.(<<

PAUL

Today is a bad day for my plan.  I didn't think far ahead enough to foresee
the issue with my contacts today.  That just led into a bizarre day.  After
Jon drops me off for work I head straight to the store to buy a staff shirt
and get ready.  The place is packed all day.  Lineups at my till are
usually more than 5 people deep.  I never get my paid break because there's
no time.  And being able to see distances would sure help!

But it gets even more peculiar about an hour before close.  I've seen so
many faces today I couldn't pick a single one out of a police line-up.  Not
even if I had worn my contacts today.  Not even if everyone in the line-up
was someone I rang through today.  Now to contradict that, that holds true,
save for one face.

She plops a navy blue quarter-zip fleece Adidas sweater on the counter.
Commenting on the sweater to be polite as I reach for it, but also meaning
the sentiment, I say, "That's a really nice sweater.  I think I might buy
one myself.  I've seen a couple already today and they look seriously
comfy."

The lady gets my attention with her Christmas painted fingernails as she
brings them to her face, until she rests her index finger on her nose.  Not
even looking at my name tag that says Darren on it, she smiles as she
totally catches me off guard, "What's your favourite colour Paul?"

"I'm sorry, I don't think I know you," I suggest.

"No, you don't.  Funny how we're all just another faceless person until
some cosmic force changes that; isn't it?"

Reaching for a name, I come up with the guitarist I'm studying right now,
one from the `Best of' Tesla CD Jon wanted me to listen to his favourite
songs from, "Well, sorry, you've got me wrong, then.  The name's actually
Frank.  Frank Hannon.  And you would be?"

"Just some nutty older lady in your eyes.  Don't take this the wrong way
but you are every bit as hot as I've heard," She says as I scan the sweater
into the cash register.

"Thanks, I guess.  That's twenty-one sixty-four," I say as I extend my hand
for this wacko to pay and move on.

Minus the blonde hair, she's got a definite Romy and Michelle quality to
her as she hands me some cash, "So how about that sweater?  Seriously now.
If someone were to buy you one of these, what colour would you like?"

Is this woman crazy?  Is she going to buy me one?  Playing along, I
outright lie, "Yellow."

She looks back to a rack in the store and blows air out like a deflating
balloon, "Yellow's going to be a challenge.  Give me you're your second
choice."

"Red.  You have a Merry Christmas now," I say as I hand the bag to her and
reach for a football jersey that the next person in line is buying.

"Red works.  Thanks!  Merry Christmas to you too, Sweetie," She says and
heads out into the mall, leaving me totally baffled by the whole exchange.

Then, when the store closes and the line-ups at the registers finally abate
nearly half an hour later, I get to cash out.  For all the transactions I
processed today, I'm proud that my cash and credit card slips balance
within pennies.  Finally free, I head outside the mall with the rest of the
Sports Authority employees and Jon isn't there.  I begin to panic,
chastising myself for letting Jon drive alone when I know he only has his
learners permit.

I begin to think that he and Belinda are probably in the hospital or,
please forgive me, the morgue.  Just when I start to panic another stranger
in a white Lexus SUV specifically picks me out from the crowd of about a
dozen of us and calls out to me.

That's right; the second woman of the day that I don't know is calling me
by name, "Paul?"

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" I calmly ask her when my real thought is `what
the fuck, is my name stencilled on my forehead?'

"No, you don't know me directly, but you're Paul right?  I'm Bobbie-Sue,
one of Jon's friends.  Get in quickly, I'm your ride.  Jackie hasn't left
the store yet," She says.

I don't even really hear what Bobbie is saying as she motions me to her
vehicle because I notice Jackie drive right up to the side of her, "Catch
you later Bobbie he waves before he spots me coming around the front of the
SUV, "Hey man!  You know Bobbie?"

Bobbie covers for me, "Yeah, I'm friends with his babysitter.  We carpooled
today because the parking lot is a madhouse!  I didn't know you know Paul!"

"That's crazy!  He's only my bestie," Jackie says to Bobbie-Sue.  To me he
says, "I can give you a lift man.  I was swinging by this end of the mall
to see if you were still here too.  Get Queen B and head over to my place,
grab a bite and then go to church practice?  Maybe crash at my place
tonight?"

Well my separate worlds have just collided, and my life is now crashing and
burning.  I don't even know Bobbie-Sue but I can't face Jackie yet so I
answer, "Well, I gotta get my car too, and it'll be a few minutes so how
about I meet you over at your place in half an hour?"

"Cool.  See ya then," Jackie says, letting me off the hook easier than I
would expect.

At Jon's I thank Bobbie for the ride and am even slightly oblivious to Jon
as I pack up Belinda and my stuff and head home.  I don't even stop to
change out of Jon's clothes that I am completely dressed in, save for my
shoes.  I don't even realize until I get to Jackie's that the shirt I
changed back into after work is Jon's polo shirt.


>>).:.(<<

JON

Ma and Larry get home around quarter to seven with Lacey.  They all spent
the day together at a pot-luck holiday church function it turns out.  Larry
has already heard about Tim's squabble with Neil and they go out back to
talk about it.  I spend time avoiding my sister by throwing a couple frozen
chicken breasts on the Foreman grill and making a salad for Tim and I to
eat.  Afterwards Tim and I head up to his room and he starts kicking my ass
in NHL 2001.  A small Christmas miracle occurs when Lacey actually comes
upstairs to say `bye' before she leaves.  I just give her the finger and
continue playing, ignoring her presence until she leaves alone.  I still
can't get my head around her trying to be my suddenly loving sister, and
yet condemn my sexuality.  After a head to head game with very little said
between us, Tim plays a game of his regular season alone while I watch for
a minute before heading downstairs to email Duncan.

I must have fallen asleep at the computer as things get quite interesting.
Suddenly Tim and I are both on his bed again.  We kick off our shorts and
shirts and are both sitting on his bed in just white boxer-briefs.  I reach
over and grab a hold of Tim's cock and balls.  He turns and just looks at
me.  I start to massage his crotch a little.  He leans back.  We start to
make out until he slips his waistband below his balls.  His hard-on is
curved up and is bouncing a little.  I go down on him.  He massages my butt
as I give him head.  He warns me that he's about to blow and I prepare to
swallow.

The next thing I realize is that I'm actually at my computer with a hard on
straining in my shorts.  Getting up from the computer after that erotic
dream, I figure it's time to go to bed.

As I pass, Tim's door is still open.  His game is almost over so I sit back
down on his bed with him until he wins his game.  He tosses the controller
in celebration, but today I see that he hurts more under his well
constructed façade than he'd like me to see.

I hug him, "Tim, I'm sorry about Nat.  I had no idea.  God, she's so
stupid, like she can't see that you are the perfect catch."

Shaking his head Tim placates, "No, remember I'm the gay one, or so she
thinks Jonny.  I'm the one that has a thing for straight 'ole you."

"Well then I'm sorry I brought this on you.  I'm sorry you're stuck with me
and I'm sorry you and Neil fought today," I offer, feeling like a grade `A'
piece of shit.

Tim grabs my hand and sticks it in his crotch.  I pull away but he puts it
back there.  Rubbing my hand around in his crotch, he leans in and kisses
me.  More than a peck, but far from making out.

He abruptly stops and rests his forehead against mine, "You don't have to
be sorry for anything Cheesedick.  You are the only one who's real.
Everyone else is so stuck in a game of lies and betrayal and you, you just
go on being who you are and being real."

Tim undoes his shorts and puts my hand on his boxers.  I totally let him
control me, confused as to what he's doing.  He continues, "There.  Maybe I
just crossed too many lines, but it's all I have to repay you for not being
a fucking ass like Neil or a backstabber like Barry, or a cunt like Nat."

I grab a hold of his manhood through the opening and it reacts to my touch.
I give it a few strokes and smile.  I kiss Tim back, passionately this
time, and pull my hand from his erection sticking out of his printed
boxers.

While the X-rated dream I just had of swallowing him whole is fresh in my
mind I resist, "Tim, I'd love to make you feel better, I'd love nothing
more than to stroke your massive cock, show you the warmth and tenderness
of a friend's mouth, but I love Paul."

Tim has a full body blush going on, from his face down his neck and over
what I can see of his chest underneath his wife-beater, "I didn't want you
to do anything more you twat.  I didn't even expect you to pull it out."

I am confused.  I have no idea what is going on here.  Much like the rest
of my life, I am operating on auto-pilot and letting myself be led.  I feel
a pang in my chest when I think I am about to cheat on Paul.  That is where
this is going, right?  I whisper in his ear, "I love you Tim.  You're my
best friend.  And I promise you both of those will never change."

Changing tunes, Tim answers with a kiss, he even slips the tongue as he
slides his hand up my shirt and down under my waistband and grabs a hold of
my dick.  Wait, weren't we both down to our underwear a moment ago? No,
that was my dream when I fell asleep at the computer, wasn't it?  Tim's now
at full attention and humping my hand.  He whispers back, "There, we're
even my little Homo friend.  If only we could all be like you, this world
would be better place."

And again I wake up.  For real this time.  Just in time to keep from
shooting a load in my sleep.  I am in fact still fully clothed, sprawled
out on Tim's bed.  Tim is also still fully clothed, only now he is sitting
on the floor with his back resting against his bed.  Oh my lord!  I fell
asleep in Tim's bed and had a dream within a dream, both of which were
highly real and erotic, and I almost had a wet-dream in his bed with him
awake an arm's length away from me.

Hearing me gasp awake he chuckles and asks, "Good dream?"

"Something like that," I agree as he gives my erection a knowing nod.

"Well you looked comfortable so I went on to another game against the
Mighty Ducks.  Now I'm just adjusting my lines and doing other game
maintenance before I had to wake you up to go to your own bed.  As hot and
bothered as you were sounding, I didn't want to wake you and have you kiss
me again.  Then again, I was worried you'd shoot your wad like two feet
away from me."

I pull my shirt down over my tented shorts and say I'm going to bed.  He
absently says goodnight and dismisses me before I am even out the door.  I
try to sort fantasy from reality, and the reality is that I just dreamed
those hot steamy scenes when I nodded off watching Tim play a video game.
Damn.  I do know for sure that he flashed me in Paul's car today.  The rest
is in my head.  I just dreamed two sex scenes with Tim.  And one was a
dream within a dream!  I should have caught on that the first one was a
dream when I got up from Tim's dick in my mouth to go to the computer, or
however that flash-scene occurred in the dream.  All this because I have an
impossible crush on my positively straight friend who it happens just
flashed me his penis this afternoon.

Leaving Tim's room, I decide to really check my emails before bed, even
though it is now late.  The computer stuck in the middle of my dream
reminds me it's been a few days.  In fact it's been A week since I've
actually run into Duncan online and I'm hoping for a chance to chat with
him.  Emailing sometimes doesn't cut it.  Yet again he appears to not be
online.  At least I have all his flight info right, but I should make sure
he has all the info he could need for when he gets here.  I fire him off a
quick email.  In the process of writing Duncan I get an email from Paul.
It is short, telling me he's staying the night at Jackie's and reaffirming
that he's not mad at me.  He asks my thoughts on some lyrics:

All through the night, I'll be awake, and I'll be with you.  All through
the night, This precious time, when time is new.  Oh, all through the night
today Knowing that we feel the same without saying.

We have no past, we won't reach back Keep with me forward all through the
night And once we start the meter clicks And it goes running all through
the night Until it ends, there is no end.


He doesn't cite that it's Cyndi Lauper, but I recognize it.  I fire a quick
response back hoping to tie him up online long enough for my request to be
added to his buddy's list to get to him.  He adds me to his list and
responds to my `maybe' response to Cyndi Lauper by saying he thought it was
pretty weak too, so he'll keep thinking.  Then he says he better get to bed
before Jackie gets suspicious, and signs off with a hug and kiss.  Bandit
follows me upstairs, as if he's been waiting for me to go to bed so that he
can hog the bed on me.

I get to the top of the stairs and head back to Tim's room.  The door is
open and his back is to me as he's getting ready for bed.  His shorts and
shirt are gone and he's in socks and a pair of boxer shorts that I always
burry in the bottom, back corner of his underwear drawer so that he'll wear
the tighter fitting (easier for me to check out) boxer briefs I prefer on
him.  I clear my throat to announce my presence, "Tim?  Look, we gotta
talk."

I tell Tim about my dream, about our conversation in it, and about both sex
scenes in it.  At least I was right about the full body blush, like I've
seen on rare occasion, his chest does blush too.  We both carefully ignore
the fact that something has come to life in his underwear.

The wise old man that is trapped inside Tim just listens and then he
responds, "It's not your fault about Nat or Neil.  It's life I guess.  I'm
kinda glad lately that we're hanging with Jackie, Wayne, and sometimes even
your boyfriend lately.  I'll even take Nat and who-knows-else thinking I'm
gay over another spat between Neil and Tania.  But for what it's worth I do
love you too bud; you are my best friend forever too."

I smile and he says, "Come here."

He kisses me!  He really kisses me, even if it is only on the cheek this
time, "There.  Now don't tell Paul.  That is just between us, between two
fucked-up friends."

I hug him and risk another quick peck.  Catching him off guard, I get him
squarely on the lips.  He immediately wipes his lips dry and then teasingly
swats at the tented front of my shorts, admonishing me, "Now scram
Cheesedick, I don't want Hunter mad at me too!"

Naked in bed, I beat off to the fantasies I just had and to the peak I got
of Tim's dick earlier in the day.  I don't care if anyone hears, but I come
so quickly that it doesn't matter anyway.


>>.:.(<<


Dear Reader:

I would still love to hear what your thoughts are!  Your comments are
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:)

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