The Circle

"Alex! You still asleep?" I heard dad ask.

Usually my alarm clock set to radio was the first thing I heard on school mornings.

"Mrmph," followed by, "Mmm, yeah. What?"

"Look out the window, you vampire! Open your shades!"

I sat up and wiped my eyes before I lifted the blind. It was the butt-crack of dawn as it came in early March in the upper Mid-West. Gray, heavy clouds allowed only a hint of where the sun was rising and gray-white covered everything. If it weren't for the hedge and wall across the street and a few vehicle tracks - hopefully in the street - it would have been an unbroken field of gray. Smooth and drifted over three feet deep in places, there was no sign of the driveways, curbs, or the street - except those tracks. More flakes were falling, creating a fog-like effect that nearly blocked the view of the mansion across the street.

It's just like those stupid stories describing winter wonderlands and candy cane trees. Something from a sickly-sweet Christmas story for little kids, I thought.

My emotions improved from maudlin to mediocre as I remembered it was a school day. Or would have been, I hoped.

"Look at the snow! They call school off yet?" I asked, trying to sound happy, mostly to stave off any questions.

"Your school is on alternate schedule. You can stay home if you want."

"Is it that deep?" I asked, looking out to the completely snow-covered world, knowing it was.

"Yup, and more on the way. Going to be hard to get anywhere, and I don't want you out in this mess with those idiots out there," dad said, then added, "Even if you took the bus."

"Cool, okay, extra birthday gift, I guess!" I answered, not sure how dad knew that I had been riding my bike to school, or at least not riding the bus.

"Okay. Hal has his Rover and says he isn't going to miss work today, so I and your mom are riding with him. We'll drop her at the Metra station, which'll be clear and plowed. The radio says the buses are running an hour late out off the city routes, but downtown's mostly being kept cleared, so she can catch a bus no problem straight to work."

"Okay, cool. Call me, and tell mom to call me, so I know you guys got to work okay. I don't want mom stuck on a bus stop for hours in the snow and no one know," I said.

"She's already going to call me when she gets to work. I can call you from work and let you know about nine-thirty I guess. What are ya going to do today?"

"Probably play with my gifts," I said. "And don't say it, I won't start the van!"

I had said the words before I remembered, or thought of, why I had no intentions of doing so. The sight of Toby warning me not to start the van was suddenly clearer than it had been since it had occurred. Again I wondered just how Toby could have known, unless he was actually Toby. I knew that I didn't know about the van, so I had gotten very lucky, or a wish of mine had got into my head. I had never expected a car to begin with; the van had been nothing more than a dream, and I knew it. Or I thought I did. And I thought Toby was a dream.

My thoughts were interrupted by dad carrying on the conversation.

"Yes, you will. I'm not stupid, you know! Just make damn sure you open the overhead door a crack. And don't run it long!" he warned.

"Dad, I tell ya what. I won't even start the thing. I'll wait until you guys get home, promise. You can take the cap off the radiator if you wanna, so it won't start," I offered. "Distrubutor! I meant the distributor!" I hurried out, knowing I knew better.

I really had no intention of starting the van, not with that dream, or whatever it was was, so vivid in my memory.

If it was a dream, I wondered again. Either way, I intend to listen to it. I might mess around, but not gonna start it. Or not for long. Just to see if it runs. No. I'd have to turn it around so the exhaust gets out! That thing smells bad when it runs good! Like the exhaust pipes even matter! It leaks from behind the new headers to the tailpipe. It'll fill the garage in no time! Nope, not gonna start it.

"No. If you promise, I'll take that promise. I know you won't take it out of the garage either, son."

"Yeah, right," I said, realizing the tracks in the snow would be a rather obvious dead give away, unless I shoveled the driveway to get rid of them.

A plan formed to do just that. I would take the van for a quick 'round-the-block-and-back and then shovel the drive, hiding the tracks. I reveled in my sneakiness momentarily, until I saw the flaw.

"I know you have the mileage written down somewhere, anyway! I ain't stupid either!" I said, smiling widely, believing I had dad dead to rights.

"No I don't," he said smoothly.

"Yeah, right!" I stated back.

"I don't!" he insisted, straight-faced.

I knew he wasn't lying, especially about something so trifling.

"Oh, okay, you memorized it!" then added, "Smart ass!" just loudly enough for him to hear.

I didn't mean it in a derogatory way, but affectionately.

Dad answered that with a smile and, "Have a nice day, son," as he turned back through the door. He stopped and turned around, and I could tell by his shit-eating grin he had something he thought was clever to say. "And I hope you would have shoveled the drive by then, even if not to hide the tire tracks."

"Go to work!" I said, throwing one of my pillows at him.

Dad ducked and watched the pillow make it to the turn in the stairs before stopping.

"I should leave that there, but it would still be there when I get home, and then your mom would see it, so," he walked down the stairs, picked it up and threw it to land in my room. "If you don't shovel the drive, you might clean up your room some! Like your mom says, it smells like a locker room!" he called, going down the stairs.

Can't get away with shit! I moaned. Come up with a good plan to check out the van in some fresh, deep snow, and he figures out how I could get away with it! Damn it! Well, shit. Who am I kidding anyway, I'm not starting that thing. If was me or Tob, it don't matter, I can wait, I think.

I lay back, thinking about the dreams, or whatever. They had seemed so real. I had been warned not to start the van, not without dad there at least, months before getting it, and then again so recently. I remembered how I had had no idea what van Toby had been talking about the first time. I knew of no van I would be starting, with or without dad there. Tim's van had never entered my thoughts.

It was impossible for Toby to be there to tell me, I thought. Not just because he had gone home earlier, back to Georgia, not only that, I remembered, my heart sinking in my chest. Six fucking months, man. Six months ago. And why? Did he deserve it? At all? Fucking hell no way. Not even close. He deserved tons more years and tons more love and tons more happiness. And instead he got sickness and weakness and death. Fuck you, God. Fuck you and your heaven. We could'a been really happy for a long time.

No, too painful to think about now, I thought to myself before I let it run away with me. Besides, the fucking mess I made with Jeff is sorta more important right now. I'm sorry, Tob, but this is now, and he's leaving, and I can't let him move away while we're like this, all shitty. No. And I can think about that later, too. I got all day. Shit. I gotta be gettin' it off my mind!

I lay still and forced my mind run over the good events of the previous day in hopes of cheering myself up.

Sixteen! Fucking sixteen! And I get my license next week! If it's not still blizzarding! Wow! I hope I don't have to drive in this kind of snow for my test! I won't go unless it's clearer! Dad wouldn't take me if it was like this anyway, would he? Fuck. And I got a car! A van! The van! I have Tim's van! How fucking cool! And Tom to thank for it, naturally. I owe him so fucking much! I owe him more for so many things I didn't even know he was doing! How much does he do for me that I don't know about and never will? Or did already? Shit! No wonder I love him, or, whatever. Sure no wonder I like having sex with him.

"Oh, wow!" I said aloud as I remembered again that I was 'out' to my parents. "Oh . . . wow!"I yelled again as I smiled like an idiot, sitting on my bed, the gray, dawn light growing.

Tom! They thought Tom was . . .

"They know all about it!" I whispered to myself, grinning wider, waking a sharp pain in my temple.

They know and didn't try to make us not anymore! Fuck, dad even said, said that about it! That they didn't care if we were, like he said, being together! Oh my fucking gawd! Well, he didn't say they didn't care, just that they wasn't bothered by it. I wonder what that means? I think I know how hard that must have been for them. I wonder how long they must have thought it over, talking late at night, or when I wasn't around. As tough as it was for me, or Tom, it must have been at least as hard for them!

I grinned at my life, thinking how good I had it. I couldn't wait to get out of bed and enjoy the day. But there was still a black patch looming. Not the usual one, the one shaped like Toby that had actually begun to recede, but another one. One still as familiar, one that had loomed before, and that had recently loomed for two weeks straight, but after Tuesday night and yesterday morning, loomed larger than ever before.

Why did I have sex with him? Again? And oral, too! Idiot! Fucking idiot! Every time he did anything, he was gone a day, or two days. The time I moved up next to him when we was playing Atari and I put my hand on his leg and he got up and left I should have known never to do anything with him again! Ever. But last time, he left so fast he still didn't have his coat on when he got next door and called his mom to come get him.

Then he comes to my party after all, and it's all nice, and he stays over! And I get him stoned, so stoned, and sleep with him! I tricked him into oral sex, and three times that night, too, and on pot, and of course he's not going to deal with it good!

And the time before, a few months ago, he slept over, and after we beat each other off, he slept on one of the beds in the other room after. With the door shut, too. Probably locked, I bet. And he went home early next day after being all moody all morning.

Fuck! Two weeks now I haven't dared to ride the bus. I can't be around him with people. The Circle, okay, but not . . . people! They'll know! Just a fast look at me and anyone could tell! And I, just, it's too uncomfortable! Even the bus, the bus especially.

Fuck! I so fucked up! When will I learn not to do anything with Jeff? Or everybody? Why do I have to have sex with all my friends? What's wrong with me? I gotta be gettin' it off my mind!

The glee and joy of moments ago was gone, replaced with depression and loss. I felt no reason to leave bed. There was nothing I could think of to do that getting out of bed would be worth it. I only wanted to hide in the covers and wait until I finally shriveled and died.

I heard someone tromping up the stairs, terrifying me. I had heard my parents leave earlier, and unless they had silently returned, I knew it wasn't them. I sat up on the edge of the bed and worried about burglars and robbers, knives and guns.

Tom came bounding up the stairs, saying, "No school!" with a huge smile.

I felt my heart pounding in my chest from the lingering fear, and hoped Tom couldn't tell. The relief from the fear seemed to rush into my penis and it literally popped up.

"Hey," I said as happily as I could muster around the lump in my throat while positioning myself upright to hide the growing lump at my lap.

I immediately started thinking of excuses to get Tom to leave. I wasn't in the mood for company, not after I had started thinking of Jeff. And not still naked in bed with a hard-on.

"Ah. So you're off all day, too? Why did you come over so soon?" I asked him, looking at the clock.

"I had to promise to shovel the snow before they got home and I could come over here all day! Mom got me up early so I could get to school on time and she saw the snow. Later she heard the delay but I was in the shower. We just finished breakfast when we heard cancelled, so mom made me promise to shovel before she got home and I could come over here. So, here I am!"

"So why didn't you call?" I asked. "Did you think I was still asleep and could sneak up on me or something?"

I realized how that sounded as soon as I said it, hinting that sex was involved, but I had meant it differently. Right then, timed perfectly and as if on cue, my alarm clock went off. We laughed at the coincidence as I shut the thing off with a contemptuous slap.

"No, I knew you'd be awake, I saw your parents get their ride, stupid! I waited until they left, I didn't want to just walk over and have them thinking, well, you know what, with us alone all day, and stuff. And they would no way leave today and not at least talked to you about school! I was, kinda, hoping, I could maybe surprise you, though, maybe in the shower or something. I want to give you your private birthday present . . ."

"Oh, really? What would that be?" I asked, more than a bit curious, and suspecting sex was involved from Tom's grin.

"I don't know, I didn't plan anything, I just, thought . . ." Tom tried to explain. "You know, something for your birthday. We never got to celebrate."

"Tom, wait a sec. Why didn't you stay Tuesday night after the party? What was the big deal that you had to go home anyway?"

If he didn't know Jeff was waiting, then why didn't he stay long enough to do something quick? I wondered. He didn't answer, or make a move to, instead remaining as still as a statue - except for his tell: The tips of his fingers twitched ever so slightly. He had been caught off guard and had no ready answer or lie, and was frantically formulating.

I crossed my arms, like he tended to do while waiting for an answer, displaying that he would wait as long as he wanted to for that answer, and so would I. I could tell he was thinking, and thinking hard and fast; his fingers twitched, touching each other, flicking in a seemingly random manner. Only when he was deepest in thought did that happen. I couldn't wait for this one.

After long moments, he slowly said, "Nothing."

"That the best you can do?" I asked incredulously, my chin nearly on my chest in stunned disbelief that he couldn't come up with something more . . . entertaining at the least, if not rational or believable.

"I just didn't feel like it is all. Okay? Don't worry about it. Besides, we're talking about today! And we got all day!" he said lecherously.

I was in no way in the mood for sex. Not after dropping back into the dark place that thoughts of Jeff and what I had forced him to do put me. I shook my head and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Not in the mood. Kind of bummed. Don't ask, just not in the mood, okay?"

"Is that the place that thing hit you?" he asked suddenly with a surprised look.

I touched the sore area gently. It was hot and puffy by touch, and touching it sent sharp pains straight through my skull.

I winced again as Tom sat beside me, and not from the temple injury.

"Shit, man! That looks like it fucking hurts! I didn't know it was gonna spread so far!"

"I know, like the blob," I said with a snicker.

"Does it hurt like it looks?"

"I know it hurts most of the time. Sometimes it fucking hurts."

"Man, I'm so sorry. I just didn't see ya. Honest."

I glanced at him sitting next to me, and saw what I knew I would. His dark eyes were soft with his worry, and his thin, dark eyebrows were angled wrongly, his brow wrinkled. The small, thin lips were slightly down-turned. I knew it would melt me, and it did. Suddenly it bothered me that he was bothered that he hurt me. Even if it was an accident, and even if was as least half my own fault.

"I know, man. I don't blame ya. I should'a got your attention sooner or waited. I walked right into it. My fault."

I knew I would want to comfort and hug him before it began.

We sat quietly a few moments before Tom asked, "So, what'cha wanna do?"

Sigh.

"I ain't had breakfast yet, so that's first, I guess."

I wasn't hungry, I just wanted to act normally. I wasn't wearing anything as I threw my blankets back and headed to the dresser for sweats. Sitting next to Tom and wanting to be affectionate had started an erection, even though I hadn't considered sex, and still didn't feel like having sex. That fact bothered me, and I knew from human psychology textbooks that it was a normal response to someone I cared for and with whom sex was a factor, and that the rush of chemicals during the fright as Tom came up the stairs promoted the erection; it still bothered me to be seen with it. He had seen me naked more times than I had counted, and I wasn't shy about being naked in front of him at all, but I was still conscious of the erection and was cautious to hide it as I dressed.

After throwing on shorts, sweats, a t-shirt, and my glasses, I told him to watch tee-vee or play Atari, and that I would be back in a few minutes. He nodded as I left, taking his coat off.

 He's usually got that off before the door closes behind him, I thought as I tromped down the stairs. Maybe he wasn't sure he was staying over? I thought about getting him to leave, that's for sure! I don't know if I can put up with company or not, but if I make him leave, it's only gonna make him think there's something wrong he has to help with.

I took my time downstairs, walking slower than normal through the house, thinking as I went. Then I ate slowly, too, knowing I had all day with Tom, and he wouldn't leave unless I asked him too. I knew I would probably have to ask more than once, making him quite sure I wanted to be alone. He was aware of the situation between Jeff and I, or at least he knew what little I had told him. I didn't know what Jeff had told him, or if they had even been in contact. I'd thought of asking what Jeff had said, but it seemed like spying on Jeff, and not right. I was also a bit afraid to hear what he thought happened; any of the times he had left or ran away. I didn't doubt that Tom thought there was something more going on.

No wonder he's over so early! DUH! Geeze, it's like he has some confuse spell around him! I thought, munching Honeycomb. He dont' have to hide stuff from me, I just can't fucking see it in him! Fucker. He's got a cloak of thought disguise on sometimes! Or something! He's gonna do anything to make me not down. Well, sure better than another day like yesterday, anyway! Save me, Tom! I laughed to myself and grabbed the cereal to head upstairs with it.

I paused, got another bowl, filled mine nearly full of milk, and took it all upstairs. There I put the empty bowl down near Tom, not disturbing his Asteroids game, and sat down, putting the box of cereal between us after pouring some into my bowl. That's when I realized that I had forgot a second spoon for Tom. I sighed and wriggled to get up.

"Don't bother dude. I'll munch your turn and I can use your spoon. You ain't got no germs I don't. I think!" he said, suddenly having to fire thrusters and turn to avoid a small, very fast asteroid.

"Cool," I replied, pouring cereal. "You can go get one on your turn. Or I could be back up before you loose the three ships."

"Nah. Don't bug on it."

"Cool."

I was finished with the cereal long before Tom's ships were lost. He was the best at Asteroids of us all, by far. He had a good touch with the way the ship flew under thrusters, and jumping across the edges of the screen hardly bothered him. I marveled at how well he could play even though he leaned and twisted his entire body as he played. I couldn't understand how anyone could play decently when they couldn't sit still. His mouth hung a bit open, and his tongue flickered around his mouth as he concentrated on playing. He was hard on joysticks, too. His left hand leaned and swayed as he did, never keeping the joystick anywhere near level, and his right hand slammed the stick from side to side and in all directions hard enough to make the joystick complain with a hollow, clunking pop. I had already had to replace the second player controller twice, mostly due to Tom's long, rough handling. Eric was worse, though, I knew: He was horribly rough on the joystick, and the poor button, too.

With less than ten minutes to go before the Addams Family and The Munsters started, we had finished breakfast and a joint when the phone rang.

Tom looked to me, I was playing and in a tough spot, shrugged, so he answered it. I knew it was dad, and Tom's end of the conversation verified that. It was short and I didn't hear it all, but I did hear Tom say, "I will, no problem, don't worry," just before he hung up.

"You will no problem, what?"

"Huh?"

"You will, no problem, what?" I asked slower, never looking away from the game.

"Nothing."

"Oh bull-asteroids-shit!" I teased, getting taken out by an small, fast asteroid. "And I don't mean losing the ship."

"Get the snow shoveling done and not keep you from doing it," he answered believably.

I nodded and thought of the long job that was going to be.

"Wanna get started after lunch? I can shovel along our doors and shit while you hit the drives with the blower. We can be back for another couple hours before dinner," I offered.

"Sounds like a plan, Stan."

"Fine with me, Steve."

"That's what I say, Ray."

"Let's do it, then, Ben."

"But not right away, Clay."

"After we eat, Pete."

We both laughed.

"Good one! Gonna be chill, Phil."

"Talk about good ones! Damn! Uh . . . Uhhhhh . . . That's lot a snow, Joe! Whew!"

Laughing, Tom obviously tried to think, but he was in a bad way in the Asteroid belt. On his turn he had decided on a moving start. Whizzing along a bit fast, even for him, he had to stop thinking about the word game to prevent himself from being smashed. After several cries of, "Whoah!" from us both, he was nearing being in control, shot at an asteroid, and was blown to bits as another collided with him near the edge of the screen. He dropped his controller, shrugged, then said, "I'm ready for sex, Alex."

"Uh, that, uh, could win the word war, I guess! How long you been holding that one for?"

"For-fucking-ever it seems!"

His dark eyes flashed, his usually pale, thin lips were slightly darker, and his cheeks were slightly blushing. His lopsided grin was getting cuter all the time.

I snickered and said, "Good Thinkin', Lincoln!"

I know I grinned too widely, and for too long.

"Are you sure you wanna?"

He answered by grinning wider.

"Okay, but after the Munsters and the Adams, okay?"

He grinned wider and nodded.

"Remember that first Saturday when we first started doing it? You're parents went somewhere and we fell asleep on your bed, naked, and woke up with the door closed?"

"Oh, gawd, I forgot about that! I thought for sure you closed it! I thought if my parents'd seen us they'd've had a fit! I thought I knew you closed it!"

"Man, I told you, I fell asleep watching Star Trek and the next thing I remembered was you waking me up asking me when I closed the door!"

"And they turned off the tee-vee," I remembered in near shock. "So, they knew from way back then," I whispered.

"I bet so . . ." Tom trailed off.

"I should'a listened to ya and closed the door," I offered, snapping out of the reverie. "Man, she must have got a good look! We weren't under any covers or anything!" I stated incredulously. "Dude, that was a major screw up!"

"Why? It turned out excellent, man! You got it sooo good!"

"Yes, I did!" I said conspiratorially, bouncing my eyebrows and smiling slyly.

"You perv! I mean you got it good with your parents! If this was switched, I'd be in the morgue right now and my dad in handcuffs, and there'd be yellow tape all around my house!"

 We laughed together, and I felt better, and I knew why. I wanted to hug him, take him in my arms and wrap him up. I so badly wanted to kiss his smiling lips, lay him on his back and take my time, pleasing him slowly. My libido stirred, and I shook my head. I settled for a friendly push against his shoulder instead.

And I was thinking about trying to get him to leave when he came over. I'm so glad I didn't! He could always make me feel better and he always tried to. I wish he'd get down so I could cheer him back in payback at least once! The fucker's always in a good mood, though.

"I can really go for another blow-job," Tom stated directly, something he tended to do once we had gotten started.

"You can?? One of those things?? From me??" I asked as jokingly horrified as I could.

"I hear you give the best!"

"Thought you wanted to stop?" I asked.

I didn't know why I had asked, and wished that I hadn't as soon as I had. I realized that I would like to mess around after all, having been cheered up by then.

Laughing, Tom said, "Dude. Jerking it's easy. And boring. And you got me addicted. Okay? Why you gotta always bring that up? I do, and will, someday. Okay? But if I'm asking, I ain't quit, right?"

I shrugged, hoping he wouldn't ask why I brought it up.

"Okay. And sure, but, you won't be sorry we did, after? Will you?" I asked hesitantly.

"When did I ev-"

I waited a moment or two before looking up to see why he had stopped talking in mid-word like that. He began speaking again as soon as I did so.

"I won't. You know. You know that."

"If you ever want not to, or when you want to stop, just please tell me! Okay?" I begged, not knowing where the words came from, and feeling exposed and vulnerable by speaking them.

"I will. You know that, too. Okay? Like after I get Helen to go out with me, you better . . . have a boyfriend, or you're gonna be real blue-balled!"

He laughed half-heartedly, and smiled a matching smile.

"Yeah. And good luck. About Hel. You know? I hope you guys have some good times. Honest."

"Thanks. I really do need a blow-job. You? How about it?"

He offered to return the blow-job? That was unusual, usually. He always jacks me off while I always jack then suck him off. Sometimes he would suck me, or fuck me if I asked him too enough. It's for my birthday. I don't exactly know how I feel about that, or all of it, but what the fuck!

"Get those things down!" I decided, reaching for the waist of Tom's jeans.

We had our clothes off and were on the bed in a sixty-nine in seconds.

"Awwwwww, yeah," I crooned as I felt Tom's mouth close around my hard wood and the sensation that only suction could provide begin in the center of myself. "Tom, dude, that feels sooo excellent! I have trained you well!" I teased in my really poor Obi-Wan.

Tom pulled off my cock by sucking the entire time, keeping his lips wrapped around my cock until the head, even the hole in the tip, had passed out through his sealed lips.

"Hey, I had the best teacher!" he reminded me once again.

I started kissing around Tom's black bush while fondling his cock and balls with my hands. Tom had been rock hard well before his pants came down, I knew, noticing the pre-cum at the tip. The wide-spreading head, with it's short, squat length, looked like a World War One German helmet. His head was only about an inch long from hole to curved edges, blunt and wide. The rest of it was bumpy, lumpy, slightly curved upward, and something around five inches long. It was darker on the front half where the circumcision scar was, but pale below that until fading into the black bush. You had to be close to notice the curve; close, like I was right then. After kissing all around, including the balls, I slid my mouth over Tom's cock, licking and sucking lightly.

"Mmmmmmm, slow, man, slow. I want an hour long blow-job this morning!" Tom said, beginning to hump my mouth in his own slow time.

I was only too happy to oblige. I kept the sucking to a minimum, letting Tom use my mouth like a woman, thrusting in and out of my lips that I kept tightly curled over my teeth. He kept a lazy, relaxed pace.

I played with his balls, that had grown, too, but were still smaller than average, and much smaller than my own. They hung down in a wrinkled sack that let them move around somewhat. My fingers teased Tom's puckered butt hole, only touching the outer surface, brushing it lightly from time to time. Occasional tugs on Tom's balls and sack interspersed with the hole play had Tom leaking pre-cum in large amounts.

Nothing new there, I thought. Tom's dick leaks more pre-cum than some of the guys actually shot when they come. And Tom's cum tastes like, earthy, like loam smelled, like the woods felt. Like mushrooms.

He was doing well on my dick. He wasn't shy about getting into giving me head, he just didn't always do it. When he did, he did well. He wasn't predictable, or boring, and did a lot of things. He knew where to do things, and how and when to do them.

"Ah, wait, getting close," Tom said, pulling away. "I want us to take some time today, don't rush it, make it last. I don't' want us to cum for a long time."

"You know, for a guy who doesn't want to do this stuff, you sure know what you want, and how to do it!" I smiled during the break from the other use of my mouth.

"Yeah, well, man, as long as we're doing it, and as long as we've been doing it, we might as well do it right" he grinned at me.

"And often!" I insisted. "So, since you want long blow-jobs this morning, no reason to stay in the bedroom! How about we break in the van! You can be the first!"

Again, I knew I had made a mistake the moment I heard myself say something, and I berated myself for such an obvious stupidity.

Why would I even think that? Fucking retarded fucking moron!

"Man, I don't wanna even think about that! Why did you mention it, even?" Tom asked, rolling away.

"I don't know! Sorry, it was stupid," I offered, feeling as horribly stupid as I had ever felt before.

He sat on the edge of the bed. I wanted to put a hand on his shoulder, or an arm around them; exactly what I knew I shouldn't do.

"Okay, I just, you know, now I don't feel like doing anything," he said, obviously meaning it.

It was the first time that Tom had ever wanted to stop once we had started doing something. I knew that it was only because I had caused him to think of how the guys thought of us. I burned the thought into my mind to do something about that very soon.

"Sorry, dude, really. I don't blame you. We can take a break, or, not even do anything-" I said before Tom stopped me.

"Oh, were doing something! No way I'm gonna have blue balls because of it!" Tom said, groping his flagging erection. "Just later, okay? Don't mention what the guys think, or know, or anything about that. Okay?"

"Agreed, dude, and I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Joint?"

"Joint!"

***

 After the joint was lunch, then shoveling. Lots and lots of shoveling. Tom left to do his drive first with the snow blower, and I started on shoveling at my doors. By three I was tired and sore, but done. The problem was that more kept falling. As we finished, I saw that near the street it was lightly covered again.

Best it's gonna get, though, I thought with disgust. And they won't wonder if I drove the van out 'cause they can't see any tracks. And maybe no school again tomorrow! If it snows like last night again! Cool! That would be way too cool! Three days off around my birthday! But I gotta go talk to Mr. B about helping him for getting Tuesday off in his class to leave early. And I gotta talk to Mr. Broft at the hobby store, too!

Tom had finished with returning the snow blower and he gave me the sign that meant he would be over in minutes. I was horny, very horny, and glad he was coming over. Not just for sex, and not just because he was Tom, but also because it meant he would be there to help me keep my mind off of Jeff; if he knew it or not. I ran inside, turned on the kettle, got two of the huge mugs that mom said were soup bowls, and poured the contents of three packets of hot cocoa mix into the two of them. I tossed four marshmallows in each one then ran upstairs, changed from my cold, wet clothes, and showered quickly. I put on gray sweatpants, an old t-shirt with little remaining of the cartoon joke, and the slippers.

Tom was pouring the hot water into the bowls - cups - as I came back into the kitchen. We took them upstairs and sat in front of the tee-vee, watching Gilligan's Island while we talked and drank. Tom had changed clothes too; he was still in dark blue jeans and a dark blue t-shirt, just different ones. I could tell he had washed up a bit while changing, too, as the smell of the soap his mom bought was just detectable over our cocoas.

Night Gallery started, and we both wondered why it ran in broad daylight; it was a prime, late-night shiver-fest when it had ran at eleven on weeknights last season. I rolled and we smoked a joint as we watched. We'd seen the episode, and were sure we'd seen all the episodes, but we watched it anyway. It wasn't on at any other times that year, and we both liked it a great deal, even if it was dated and usually hokey.

It was after Night Gallery, while Tom was taking his first turn on Asteroids, that my mind started drifting off. I had played about as well as I usually did, then handed it off for his first turn. I knew I had a few minutes to lay back and enjoy the buzz. With my legs stretched out and bare ankles crossed, I leaned my head and shoulders against the footboard of the bed, the blankets there making it soft and comfortable. With both hands behind my head, I stared up as the flickering Atari subtly shifted the shadows on the ceiling, but rarely saw it.

I was wishing that I could spend that kind of time with Jeff; sitting close, just doing regular stuff, not constantly taking looks at him and thinking how I felt about him. I wished I could just spend time with him, not feel that way about him, and just be friends, at least until he moved. I wanted so much more beyond that, too, but I would take the simple friendship.

Like with Tom. I can just sit here and be a normal friend with Tom, and not keep thinking about how I felt about him. Or how to get him to have sex. But Tom lets me know when he wants to, and we've been doing it for a long time, too. Jeff's different. Jeff's more . . . just more!

Why guys? Who do I like guys like this? Do girls like guys like this? Is it the same feelings and shit they feel when they like a guy? Do they think like this about guys? Do I have a girls brain?

I thought on that a while, wondering if maybe being gay was as simple as being a woman's brain in a man's body. Several minutes later, I was reaching the conclusion that it wasn't so. I was sure that if I had a woman's brain, I would be neater. I glanced around my room at the clothes lying here and there, at the dishes I needed to take downstairs, and the general disarray I lived in. I shook my head, deciding that along with that, I wasn't feminine acting. I didn't talk like a girl, or even want to. I didn't like girl things, like dolls and tea parties. I didn't want to dress like a girl. Most important, I thought, I like my cock and my balls, and I liked having them; I didn't want tits, or a pussy, unless it got me lots of cute guys. I considered how I could more easily have more guys if I was a girl, and how 'normal' that would make me, but I liked being a guy.

I'm just gay, I concluded again, as endlessly. I'm just a guy who's wired, or something, to like other guys instead of chicks. I'm just a fag, is all.

Tom's hand cupping my groin brought me out of those thoughts. His hands slid my sweats down and then off as I lifted my ass from the floor.

"Hope your ready," he said as he leaned down to lick my hardening cock.

"No problem," I said, sinking down a little more against the foot of the bed, enjoying the feelings as Tom did what he was so good at.

I placed my hands gently on Tom's head and urged him down on myself. Tom acquiesced and took more of me into his mouth.

I moaned a soft "Yes," and rocked my hips. "Awww, Tom, so good . . ."

Tom sucked a bit harder and worked my shaft slowly with his hand. His other hand went to my balls and hoisted them, rolled them, and squeezed them. Just over six inches long, same color as the rest of my pale skin, except for the last inch behind the head, which was redder and darker, my cock slid through Tom's lips again and again. The combination of his lips sliding over me and his suction working inside of me forced my calf and feet muscles to contract. The pleasurable contractions between my thighs rolled through me as he did what I had taught him so well.

I let him go until I felt like a break before it got too far to stop. I pulled him off of me, and he let me remove his jeans and briefs. We moved up to the bed where I lay next to him and took him into hand and mouth. There were few things I liked more than sucking someone, and the feeling of a hard cock in my mouth as I made the owner feel good. I swirled my tongue around the knobby head, paying attention to the hole in the top and the areas where the ridges met the shaft. I was super-sensitive there myself, and Tom was as well. 

"Gawd! Oh yes! Do that!" Tom was moaning out loud around my own throbbing hardness.

My left hand took both of Tom's nuts and kneaded them softly, squeezing and tugging them at random. My other hand moved around his body, tickling and touching. Tom's balls and sack were smaller than mine, but most were. I made sure that Tom's balls never lacked for attention, and Tom loved it when I sucked on his balls directly. "It's almost as good as a blow-job," he had said once. Just about any touching or fondling of Tom's balls made him twitch and squirm in pleasure.

I decided to keep at it for a while, since Tom loved it so much. I got comfortable and kept manipulating Tom's balls with my tongue, mouth, and fingers, only occasionally stroking Tom for short periods. Occasionally my hands strayed around to the back and massaged Tom's hole. Tom didn't mind my attentions to his back door, but he had more than once said how it wasn't his favorite, by far.

After a few minutes of my finger circling the sphincter, I let my forefinger push into the hole and spread the hidden pucker.

"Let me do you," Tom said, pulling himself off my finger, out of my mouth, and reaching into the hidden area under the headboard to pull out the Vaseline and the candle.

I laid on my back and pulled my legs up, locking my hands across the back of my thighs. This made Tom's job easy as he used a finger to spread the lubricant around my quivering hole. Tom took his time, knowing I liked it. He placed the small end of th ecandle up next to my hole and applied a tiny amount of pressure. I didn't push, preferring the pressure as it made its way inside. It was something we had done many times over the last year, and Tom knew to slowly push harder, until eventually about half of it was inside, and he felt that slight resistance that told him it was bottomed out. Then he slowly pulled most of it out, then pushed it back in. Almost out again, the next time only an inch or so out. One time deeply, the next only an inch or so in. He kept changing the rhythm and depth, driving me crazy.

After a few minutes, he asked, "Ready?"

I nodded and he pulled the candle out, wiped it off, greased the fat end, and we repeated the whole thing. It felt better than the narrow end, but hurt a little going in, too.

"Oh, shit!" I moaned softly as it poked its way through and inside.

"Okay?"

"Keep going," I demanded as I carefully set my feet on the bed, splayed wide and knees bent.

My cock was hard and throbbing as Tom gently wrapped his fingers around it. He started stroking it in time with his slow candle work. He kept at it until my cock had dripped several times onto his hand. Tom would stroke my shaft for only brief periods, then spend more time fondling and playing with my balls, the candle never stopping.

I liked it, but I liked the real thing more. The candle was just so that Tom could get in next. He didn't like using his finger, and once we had started using the candle, he always did.

I  had started breathing much faster by the time Tom got the Vaseline again. I took it from him and applied it to his cock myself; I loved doing that. I loved the feel of his cock covered in it. I slid my hand over him, feeling every bump and ridge, loving how he felt in my hand. He let me play with it far longer than we needed to simply for lubrication reasons before he pulled the candle out, just a bit quickly. I pulled my legs up again and then he positioned himself to enter me. Nodding, I indicated to go ahead. Tom leaned down, aiming with his left hand, and pressed the blunt, rounded tip of himself against the greased portal of my ass.

He pushed, harder, the harder. He spread me, pushed, spread me further. It hurt, but it was worth it. We both gasped as Tom slowly passed through.

Without a word, and with his eyes closed the entire time, Tom rode me with my legs up around my ears. Slow at first, then fast, then slow again. Twice Tom stopped and paused, playing with my balls, teasing my cock, or playing with my nipples until he was sure he could start fucking again and not cum right away. His cock felt wonderful moving inside of me.

Not too long after his next pause to prevent his own orgasm, Tom took my cock in hand and stroked it, rubbing his finger and thumb over the edges as they passed. Suddenly my orgasm came rushing on me, quickly and without the usual buildup before it first.

I said, "Dude, I, think, oh fuck!" and my colon clenched down on Tom's cock in rapid succession and a wave of pre-cum washed out of my cock.

I clenched my face in near agony as my orgasm began taking over. I held my breath, and I knew that I was, but I couldn't breathe, or make myself breathe. An orgasmic wave tried to tighten my hole around Tom, but his cock was as hard as steel, as usual. It was nearly painful, no, it was painful, but pleasantly so.

I shot my wad onto my own lips with the first blast.

Another anal retraction clamped around that hard cock and my second shot of cum landed on the side of my neck.

Another clamping attempt foiled, and a third shot of cum landed in the center of my chest.

I thought my ass was going to rip around Tom's hard cock as another tumbling bar of cum landed mostly in my belly button with an audible plop.

 I started panting as the rest of my cum flowed thickly into Tom's fingers in several following waves.

The feeling of Tom's cock in my ass as such a powerful orgasm occurred made it nearly too painful. Unable to clamp down during such a strong cum, my ass and prostate complained painfully, but not so much it actually hurt.

His cock kept moving in my hole, despite the repeated, - now barely flagging - efforts to tighten completely around it. Tom's face was deep red, his eyes tightly closed, his mouth mostly open, his breath seemingly stopped. Small gasps, hardly sounds, escaped his open mouth as his back convulsed the rest of his body over me.

The sensation of his cock pumping his cum into me almost immediately as my orgasm ended threw me into a new place. Every swelling pulse of him inside me triggered a reaction from my hole and prostate. They pulsed in sympathy; my body tensed in reaction to that. I groaned aloud slightly after each time Tom came in me.

"Coo-oo-oo-ool!" Tom said as he shivered in his own post-orgasm bliss and relaxed his weight onto my legs.

I wrapped my arms around him without thinking, pulling him toward me between my legs, spreading them and laying them on the bed. We were chest to chest. I felt his body tightly against mine, his sweat mixing with my sweat and cum. His his breath came in small gasps across the side of my neck.

"Oh, yes!" he finally said, returning from that other place, breathing again. "Man, it feels so good when you cum when I'm inside," he said, moving to remove himself from me.

"Dude, it feels great when you cum inside and I just did!"

We laughed and got cleaned up, then were back on the Atari until two, still naked. Then we watched F-Troop and Hogan's Heroes. They were repeats that we had both seen multiple times, but it was fun all the same to smoke a joint and laugh at the familiar antics. There was something nicely reassuring about seeing the same familiar people doing the same old things, and laughing with Tom at them yet again.  

I could so let myself so love you, Tom, I thought, taking a glance over at him sitting naked next to me. I really could. It'd be so easy. I do love you, but I have to hold a lot back, don't I? And you're not the only one. But I could like you like I liked Toby, I think. In time. Not like how I felt about Jeff the first second I saw him, though. But I could get there for you, Tom.

Why does Jeff want to do it, then run away after? We only did it three times, just jacking, and he slept in the other room or left and went home. Why did he want to stay overnight on my birthday? Was he trying to prove he trusted me? Then I go and do that! But he said he wanted to! I remember him saying it! Then why did he leave? Why does he always leave or get away from me after?

"Ready for round two?" Tom asked, his hand sliding over my naked thigh and eventually cupping my balls.

"Absolutely," I replied, leaning over and taking Tom into hand, thinking, I've got to be gettin' it off my mind!

We stroked slowly, evenly, not too tight, never too loose, keeping the skin moving in time with each other. We laid down next to each other, stroking each other, the same way we did those long ago days when we first did anything sexual together.

"First to blow his wad, blows the other the rest of the way?" Tom asked.

"Sure," my certain reply came.

He's being really . . . just having a good time with it today! He always is more open about doing it, but today he's all into it!

Both of us knew what the other liked, and Tom had switched to the appropriate style; loose grip and concentrating on the head and upper shaft. I tightened my grip, concentrating the motions from ridges to base, just the way Tom liked it.

Increasing breathing and moans proved we were getting the job done to the other just fine.

Jacking Tom off was very different than doing myself. His shorter cock had to be jerked in shorter movements, much faster and tightly jacking his tight skin over his cock. I used just my forefinger and thumb in a loose grip most often on myself, even as I came.

Tom kept his hand loosely rubbing over my cock, barely if ever moving my skin over the shaft. His light touch brushing my head was intensely pleasurable. I gasped almost each time his fingers brushed the hole. It was against the rules when jacking to make the other cum first to use your other hand, but Tom reached across my moving arm and slid his fingers beneath my sack. I knew what he was going to do, and I knew it would make me cum faster.

"That's cheating," I said, grinning.

"Sokay. You want to lose anyway, huh?"

I was embarrassed, but he was right. I did love to lose so that I could suck his cock. I know I blushed because I could feel it.

His fingers played with my balls for a short time before slipping further back, circling then probing at my back door. I opened my legs to make room and he wriggled his finger into me. I gasped and laid further back against the foot of the bed. His probing finger knew where to go and what to do there.

 It was a deep, growing ache, signaling my oncoming second orgasm. My tensed legs, fast, short groans, and bucking hips announced it. I began a long, low, undulating groan, and pushed up, holding, as I ejaculated a short dumbbell-shaped streamer that landed above my reddish-brown pubic hair. Two more convulsions brought two more shots, both barely clearing the head and landing in my bush. More convulsions brought a bit more cum, but not much more, and it smeared across the head with Tom's fingers. My long, exhaling groan ended abruptly with a sudden, hissing intake of air. It was followed by repeatedly whispered, "ah"s as I used my left hand to stop Tom's hand. I was simply far too sensitive to enjoy after-cum playing.

I relaxed a bit, still jacking Tom's cock for a few moments, then leaned over and sucked him. Soon we were in a near sixty-nine position on the floor, half laying on our sides, Tom half under me, and me half on top of him. He was playing with my semi-hard cock and rolling my balls as I worked my tongue and mouth on his cock. His pre-cum as I first sucked on him was powerful tasting and very salty. I wished his cock tasted like that all the time as I licked and sucked, hoping for more soon, and knowing there would be.

Tom began to buck under me, fucking my fist and mouth more than I was bobbing on him. Soon I held still, hovering, as Tom pumped at his own speed and rhythm. Each time that he released more pre-cum, he pushed deeply into my mouth and held there as his cock swelled and throbbed momentarily before I tasted the salty, musky goodness. He fucked my face for long minutes, my spit soon covering his cock, soaking around into his bush, spatters of it on his thighs and balls.

When he moved his legs a bit apart as he wriggled nearly under me, I let my fingers find and gently rub the swelling behind his sack. His cock jerked in response to the first touches. After a few moments I pushed my finger further down, gently sliding across his pucker. Tom wasn't big into having his hole played with, but I loved to do so, and he did spread his legs a bit more, bending them at his knees. He liked having a finger playing with it outside, but fingering him more than that was more pleasure for me than for him, I knew.

"One finger, Al?" Tom asked, seemingly in response to my thoughts.

I complied, moving my hand under his leg and hooking my elbow around to more easily enter and work. I gently eased my wet index finger through him, finding the hard object just in front of his hole and behind his sack. I began rubbing it from inside in a steady rhythm as he fucked my mouth.

I was playing with both of Tom's nuts with my other hand when I felt them pull away suddenly, drawing back into Tom's sack and groin in short tugs, retracting up and then falling down, over and over. I watched Tom cum, and felt his nuts tug with each ejaculation. I could feel Tom's cock pulsate in my mouth in time with his prostate's throbbing and his balls movement and the shuddering of his body as he sprayed his cum into my mouth.

I stared as his globes jumped in his sack, fascinated. I thought how moments before, the warm fluid I tasted in my mouth had been deep inside those orbs. I sucked more out the tip of his cock and squeezed his balls as I pulled my finger from him

 Once his organ stopped quivering, Tom pulled away almost immediately, also seemingly far too sensitive for further stimulation.

He shook and sighed, "Whew, that was fucking great!"

"I know. These two-fers are wicked!" I replied.

They are! But not as good as sex with Toby. You do good work, Tom, but there is that something missing when it's just sex. Even when it's just sex with you, Tom. It's not the same. I wish it could be, for both of us, but it ain't. I don't love you that way, I think. Not nearly as much as Toby, anyway. And I think not as much as I do Jeff. But if you wanted, I bet I could.

When I was sucking Jeff's cock it was almost like with Toby. Only because I feel more for Jeff, I know. I want Jeff, sexually, a lot, but I'm worried how he thinks about me. Jeff knows I'm a total fag already.

I gotta be gettin' it off my fucking mind! I'll see tomorrow! If he comes to the parties or not will say a lot. He missed both the last Circle meetings. That says a lot too. And how are things gonna be if he does come? Then I'll worry about . . . it. I gotta be gettin' it off my mind!

Tom's here, and I gotta show him the stuff I learned from the Dungeon Master's Guide! And I want another doobie. Bet Tom does too!

A couple hours later, still naked, Tom had ran over a dozen characters through dungeons made using the random dungeon tables in the back of the book. The last hero had lasted several rooms further than the others, and done pretty well for swag, but now had been poisoned by a trap and was dying.

"But this guy got that ring of protection from poison off that ogre!"

"But your guy didn't know what it was, so he didn't put it on, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, it's in the pouch! Shit! I take it out and put it on!"

"Why would your guy do that?"

"Uh . . . just hoping?"

"He doesn't even know it's magic. He don't have a clue. He's a first level-"

"Second!"

". . . second level fighter. He just thinks it a ring worth a couple gold. It's all it looks like unless you use Read Magic or something. It's pretty normal looking to anyone but a mage. He was going to wear it but thought since an ogre was, it might do something nasty if it did anything."

"Yeah. Okay. I didn't put it on because the guy has a high intelligence and made that check to think about it might be magic and could cause anything to happen. An orc mage had it on, so . . . another one bites the dust."

"Yeah. But he lasted a while!"

"Same guy anyway!" Tom laughed.

"Again?"

"Nah, I gotta do the drive again."

"Let Jon do it once in a while, shit."

"Nah. I'll get it. It'sokay. I gotta get goin'."

I agreed, considering shoveling my own drive again. It was still snowing outside and hadn't let up that we knew of. As Tom used the can, I peeked outside and saw that there was a lot of snow on the ground, but little new stuff. Traffic was keeping the snow in the street knocked down, and the cracks in the sidewalks were still visible as regular markers, proving the snow hadn't accumulated much.

Gotta shovel, huh? Now what's he up to? And I know I ain't gonna get anything from him. But he sure don't have to shovel again. But whatever. It was cool he came over, and maybe does have something to do he don't want to tell me about. Not really my business. If he wants to go home, he can go. It was so cool he came over and I'm really glad I didn't make him leave. He made me feel better again. I'll probably get all shitty after he goes, though. I can try not to. I don't have to be.

He came out of the john, naked and smiling, and putting on a show for me I was certain. I didn't hide that I was growing fuller watching him dress.

"You're hot," I blurted out as his goods vanished into his white briefs.

I had wanted to say it, and I knew he didn't really want to hear it, but I was glad I had said it. I felt foolish for it all the same.

He smiled and laughed once, then said, "I wish," as he kicked his feet into the legs of his jeans.

"Tom, you are. You got nice black hair, like raven black, and it's smooth and neat. And your face is, nice. No zits, nice smile, great eyes, neat eyebrows, you're cute, man, face it. And since you put so much time in on your bro's weights, your body is nice."

"If I'm so cute, how come the girls don't talk to me then?"

He was growing a bit down, I could see, but I felt he had no reason to be down when thinking of how he looked.

"Because you're too shy to go talk to them. That's all. And you hang around with us geeks, and you're not on a team. That's all."

"Whatever."

He pulled his shirt on, then put his feet into his shoes. Picking up his coat, he waved bye, said, "See ya in the morning, one way or the other I guess," and headed out the door to the stairs.

No mention of calling or coming over later tonight. Noted.

"Hey, Tom?"

He stopped and turned, waiting for me to continue. I felt a twang of . . . something . . . something I didn't have a name for. Perhaps a powerful mix of many emotions. Overall, I felt good. I smiled without thinking to as a hot blush washed over my face.

"Just thanks for coming over, I guess. Dude."

He smiled, nodded, then turned and hopped his way down the stairs.

I spent almost the entire day not thinking of Jeff. Fuck man, thanks.

I did manage not to get overly depressed, or to even dwell on Jeff too much once Tom left. I tried to remember that I would find out tomorrow; he'd be over for the parties, or he wouldn't. I worked with the random dungeon tables, getting used to them. I even ran a tenth level character of my own through using the higher level random tables.

Dinner was great. Mom made spaghetti and garlic bread and salad. Mom asked if I wanted to watch her usual Thursday night shows with her. I grimaced and frowned.

"You got to be kidding, right?" I asked deep in disbelief. "The Cosby Show, Family Ties, Cagney and Lacy, all topped by Hill Street Blues?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"Because I'd puke dinner back up!" I replied with vigor, adding the finger in the mouth gesture for emphasis.

"Alex!" she said.

"I'd miss Cheers and Taxi."

"I thought you recorded them in the den?" dad asked.

"Well, yeah, but I watch 'em, too," I said, not wanting to explain that I watched Simon and Simon in my room while the others recorded downstairs.

I was still angry that Simon and Simon had moved from channel two last year when it was after Magnum PI on Mondays. Now it was opposite two of my favorite shows on Thursdays, and I had to record them while I watched Simon and Simon. I wasn't going to record Simon and Simon, not when I couldn't hide that from mom and dad.

"And your shows just suck," I said, knowing that I would certainly change the subject.

"Alex Raymond!" she barked sharply. "You really need to watch that language."

I grinned.

After watching the sexy duo fight crime, I watched the tape of Taxi and Cheers. After that was PBS for Benny Hill, then Are You Being Served. It was at eleven o'clock that I ran out of things to occupy me until I fell asleep.

Laying in bed, hoping another blizzard would strike overnight, I tried to think of only good things. I hoped it snowed enough to call off school for another day, but not enough that somebody couldn't come to the parties. I especially didn't want so much snow that our parents wouldn't let Jon drive us somewhere overnight. I wondered what gifts the guys were going to give me at the late party. It was just my friends, no adults, and I knew the embarrassing stuff was due. They all had gotten me fairly normal gifts at the family party on Tuesday, and they had all mentioned the 'real gifts' were coming Friday. Those kinds of things occupied me for a time, as long as I could manage, but each time my mind relaxed and I started to drift off, I found myself fuzzily thinking of Jeff.

Tom's the main reason I don't say what I am to everybody, but Jeff is almost as big a reason. But since he knows now, why not, even if he did or didn't show up at the parties tomorrow? Fuck, I hope he does! It won't be as good without him. Unless he comes and is all pissy and shit. He has to get over it. Guess I'll find out tomorrow. But I know he's not gonna come. He thinks I'm a total fag who won't leave him alone about it.

He almost isn't one of us anymore, because of what I did. Tried to do. He gets away from me every time we do something, right after. Then I make moves on him, and he forgives me and comes to my party, so I rape him. No wonder he missed two weeks of Circle meetings. No wonder he left Tuesday and didn't want to talk to me anymore. At least the guys aren't suspicious yet. Yet. They will be if he don't show for the parties tomorrow! What do I say then? Shit!

It's hard to tell when Jeff's mad at you. He never gets angry, he just don't get physical or violent. He just gets quiet and walks away when he gets mad. Sometimes with that head toss, roll of his eyes, and a tisk, all at the same time! That's so cool! Only Jeff.

He trusts me enough to come to my party, then even to stay over, but what do I do? I push too far and fucking scare him off! Why didn't I think first! I should'a known when he left two weeks ago. But no! Not me! I'm too stupid! We don't talk for two weeks and then when he comes to my party and shows he trusts me and sleeps over, I get him stoned and we do more than ever before!

He's going to blame the pot, I know it. And he's never going to come to the Friday parties! Not only not talking to each other, he's going to miss the good parties. And they ain't going to be very good parties without Jeff there, either. And then he moves. Fucking great! Good job, Alex! You fucking idiot!

I gotta be gettin' it off my mind!

 Friday: Finally