Date: Mon, 13 Mar 2017 18:12:30 -0700 From: Timmy Elliot Subject: "East meets West" -- part 1 Keywords: Young friends, Interracial, Beginnings, Relationships The following story is a psychological work involving a consentual gay sexual relationship that evolves between a 12 year old American and a 14 year old Chinese boy. The work is entirely fictional, so any similarity of names, characters, or events is entirely accidental. Incidental mentions of superheroes are registereted trademarks of Marvel and DC. If you are offended by any aspect of this genre, please stop reading now! Please also be advised that, while sexual in nature, this story is not nearly as explicit as many on this site. If you're disappointed by that, don't say I didn't warn you! I would absolutely love comments, criticisms, and story suggestions from anyone who reads this work! ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Timmy was a precosious but awkward 12 year old. He was still a few years away from the growth spurt, the deepening voice, and the dropping of the '-my' at the end of his name that are teenage rites of passage. But some changes were already happening. Namely, the other boys in the neighborhood gradually decided that Timmy wasn't 'cool' any more, and one by one, his reservoir of friends dried up. Making matters worse, the change happened at the same time as a much more seismic shift: Timmy entered the 6th grade, which meant going to a new middle school where he was mixed in with 7th and 8th graders. They were more physically developed, more worldly wise, and definitely not looking to absorb an awkward 12 year old boy into their social circle. On the surface, Timmy didn't look like the kind of boy who would be ostracized. At 4'8", he may have been a little shorter than his peers, but not quite enough to be teased. Though he never tried out for sports, he was at least coordinated enough to avoid making a fool of himself in P.E. classes. His skinny, unmuscular 80 lbs frame was not quite scrawny enough to tempt the bigger kids to pick on him. His mop of short, messy dark blond hair, pale skin, and cobalt blue eyes would eventually become a handsome man's face... but not yet. As the only son of two university professors, Timmy was gifted with intelligence that made classwork easy for him, but his shyness ensured that few if any of his classmates thought of him as smart. The only exemplary thing about Timmy was his artistic ability. Even that remained understated, since his parents considered it a hobby, and didn't give it much thought that their son could produce a photograph-like drawing with nothing but a pencil and paper. ----- Every day at lunch time, Timmy would retreat to a corner of the playground by himself. He took the fact that other boys didn't approach him as proof that he shouldn't approach them either. Instead he'd observe from afar as they played dodgeball, chased each other around, or hung out in groups and cracked jokes. When he'd get bored of observing, he'd work on his homework, or pull out a comic book to read. The only other kids that didn't join in the typical playground antics were four Asian boys that hung out together at the opposite end of the schoolyard. Isolated as they were in the almost exclusively white, lower middle class town, the Asian boys seemed to keep to themselves. Timmy never crossed paths with any of them in classes. One boy in particular was very tall, and Timmy guessed he must be two grades ahead of him. Over time, Timmy found himself watching his classmates less and less, and monitoring the tall Asian boy and his group more and more intently. Beyond the fact that he just looked different, there was something so arresting by the black slacks and white shirt he wore every day, and how much taller he seemed than all the other kids on the playground. He always seemed to be the center of attention of the knot of other Asian boys he hung out with with. Why didn't he hang out with any white kids too? Would white kids not let him join? "I'll be your friend, Zhang," Timmy would say out loud in a comforting tone, using a name he dreamed up for the unknown Asian boy he'd grown to admire from afar. But then his mood darkened. "What if he just doesn't want to hang out with white kids?" If that was the case, then little Timmy of all people was lowest down on the totem pole for sure. Even after he convinced himself it was preposterous to hope to make friends with 'Zhang', he couldn't stop watching. There was something about his short, black hair, the rich tan of his skin, and the look of his face that made Timmy want to look... NEED to look. Some days, Timmy would start back to the classrooms near the end of lunch break, timing it so as to be walking past the group of Asian boys when the bell sounded. He watched intently... if they noticed him, maybe they'd say hello. If they looked at him suspiciously, he could pretend all was doing is heading back to class. Day after day the bell rang and none of the boys had so much as turned their heads. Until one day, Timmy happened to walk past just as the tall boy 'Zhang' looked up. Their eyes met, and 'Zhang' nodded a surprised hello. 'Zhang' had noticed him! Timmy was about to open his mouth to return the greeting when the lunch break bell went off, and he reflexively followed his usual evasive routine. The last image he had was of 'Zhang's expectant, disappointed brown eyes following him as he wordlessly made his retreat. Timmy spent the rest of the day kicking himself for not saying hello before retreating. He'd have to give up his routine now for fear of being too obvious. Everything was the same the next day at lunch. Timmy spied from across the yard, but 'Zhang' had his back turned and was performing some kind of loose-limbed, athletic antics that cracked up his cohorts. Timmy sighed and pulled out a comic book to read, feeling left out. The late summer noontime sun arced high in the sky and created a blinding glare on Timmy's comic book, until a dark shadow cut across it. "What are you reading?" a voice broke Timmy's rapt concentration. Timmy looked up, and to his great shock, he realized that the shadow and the words belonged to none other than 'Zhang'! The Asian boy he'd been spying on and secretly admired had come all the way across the school yard to talk to HIM! Timmy tilted his head up, and realized that 'Zhang' was even taller than he'd seemed from a distance. Thanks to a growth spurt and two tall parents -- not to mention being two years older than Timmy -- he stood 5'8" tall. His 110 lb frame was already starting to develop muscles on top of a previously shapeless boyhood body. For reasons he couldn't explain, Timmy snapped the comic book shut and turned it over on his lap. "Oh, sorry, is it... something dirty?" 'Zhang' asked in a cautious, almost apologetic tone, while taking a step back. His voice was accented, indicating English was not his first language, but the accent only served to make his words come across more slowly and precisely. 'Zhang's voice was much deeper than Timmy's, and even short sentences had a soothing, melodious quality that gave Timmy goosebumps. "Nah, just a comic book," Timmy said non-chalantly, but not giving any explanation for why he'd hid the book so suddenly. "Captain America," he explained, turning the book face up and showing the front cover. The artwork showed Captain America -- red, white and blue-clad muscles strained and rippling in a titanic struggle -- as some kind of red metallic tentacles encircled his torso, pulling him down on his knees. His shield had been pulled from his grip and lay dented, just out of reach. "Wow," Zhang answered, leaning down to peer intently at the cover. "I thought Captain America always won?" he said, in a shocked tone. "I thought so too..." Timmy's voice broke in embarassment. Whether it was his or Captain America's, he couldn't tell. Just then the bell rang, and both boys dutifully hastened to get back to class, walking together in awkward silence. At last they split up to go separate directions, but the tall Asian boy returned. "I'm Elliot." So 'Zhang' had been totally wrong. Butterflies fluttered in Timmy's stomach. Elliot was a wonderful sounding name. "I'm Tim." The name fell on the ground with a thud. Something had made him want his new acquaintence to start off knowing him by an adult name, but that seemed preposterous given that Elliot was a full foot taller. "Timmy," he corrected himself. "Well, see you later, Timmy," Elliot responded while heading off to the wing of the school where the 8th graders had their classes. Timmy walked to his next class on puffy clouds of euphoria. ----- Timmy spent the rest of the afternoon dreaming about what lunch TOMORROW was going to be like. Would Elliot come talk to him again? No, he decided. This time he would walk over to the group of Asian students and say hi to them all, but he only wanted Elliot to talk to him. Timmy was still refining his plans for the next day as he walked down the main hallway on his way home... and bumped right into Elliot. His smaller, lighter body ricoched easily off the the taller Asian boy, and the momentum of Timmy's backpack was about to carry him in a nasty spill over a bench, but Elliot caught him and hauled him back to his feet. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," Elliot apologized. His hero was apologizing to HIM? "No, it's my fault. Thanks for saving me," Timmy responded, cringing that his choice of words reduced him to a clumsy damsil in distress. Elliot didn't seem to notice, and kept walking along side Timmy as they talked. The suddenness of their encounter made them both forget to be awkard and shy, and they kept talking on the walk home. "So where are you from?" Timmy asked. "I am from China, but I'm here in USA since I was 7 because my parents are too, they are both professors." Timmy expected Elliot to be from somewhere far away, but to find out it was China excited him. China was the world's most populous country, he knew. He wanted to ask him all about what it was like to live there. "Oh, my parents are professors too," Timmy lit up, pleased to find he had something in common with his new Chinese friend. "Is Elliot really a Chinese name?" "No, but it's easier to use in America, and I like it," Elliot answered. An awkward silence ensued when he didn't say what his Chinese name was. "Well, here's my house. Do you live near here too?" Timmy asked in surprise. He'd never seen Elliot in the neighborhood. Elliot spun on his heel to look back in the direction he'd come. "Oh..." he exclaimed, laughing, "I live in the other direction." Timmy was so flattered that Elliot, big tall Elliot, his hero Elliot, had followed him home like a puppydog, that he forget about being shy. "Well, why don't you come in for a while." ----- Timmy couldn't believe that a day ago, he was utterly invisible to Elliot, and now he was standing right there in his bedroom. "You really like comic books!" Elliot observed, spying a pile of them on a shelf. "Yeah, I guess. Do you like them too?" "No," Elliot responded with a guffaw. "We don't really have our own in China, and anyway my parents wouldn't let me read them." Timmy felt implicitly chastened by Elliot's parents' disapproval, and hastened to add that drawing superheroes was how he learned to draw. He brought Elliot over to his drawing table, which was covered with messily arranged comic books and his own copies of the characters. Superman, Spiderman, and especially Captain America, in most cases more vibrant and detailed than the comic book cover that inspired them. "YOU draw these? Wow!" Elliot asked in disbelief. If Timmy had been wearing a button down shirt, buttons would have burst. He didn't mean to brag, but really he wanted Elliot to like his draings... and he did! "Well, I sort of copy them..." Timmy demurred. "What if you made your own superhero?" Elliot asked. The question stunned Timmy. He'd never even thought of that. "But I don't know how," Timmy answered flatly. Elliot was unconvinced. "Timmy, you can draw much better than any of this," Elliot retorted, waving his hand dismissively past the comic books arrayed on the drawing table. "I KNOW you could do it." Timmy felt his face flush red with a mix of embarassment and pride. Did Elliot say he believed in him? "But who would it be?" "I have an idea," Elliot said in a conspiratorial whisper. "What about a superhero from China?" Timmy looked up in surprise and his eyes locked with Elliot's for a moment, before he had to look away shyly. "Yes!" Timmy answered in the same conspiratorial whisper. It made perfect sense! Without further hesitation, Timmy sat down and pulled a fresh sheet of paper to the drawing table and went to work. Elliot pulled a chair so close alongside Timmy that their bodies almost touched. As he drew, Timmy's arm would brush against Elliot's, and his heart would skip a beat as Elliot's perfectly smooth skin tickled the fine blond hair on Timmy's forearm. Elliot sat and watched intently, totally silent except for the barely perceptible sound of his breathing. Both their hearts were pounding: Timmy's from the thrill of creating something that would earn him even more admiration from Elliot, and Elliot from the thrill of seeing someone following his suggestion so dutifully. As Timmy's hand moved with grace and precision, the disjointed curves he'd started off with were gradually being joined together to take the shape of a body... of a man... a superhero. Tall. Muscular. Confident. Legs spread in a wide defiant stance with boots planted solidly on the ground. V-shaped torso framed by muscular, bulging arms, hands on the hips. The head was still an abstract oval. "I can't picture the uniform, though," Timmy answered, frustration creeping into his voice. "Put China's flag on his chest," Elliot suggested. The definiteness of Elliot's voice told Timmy the idea was not up for discussion... not that he would have argued with Elliot. "What does it look like?" Elliot grabbed a piece of scratch paper and clumsily drew the five star pattern of China's flag. Timmy nodded and transferred the design into the superhero's chest. The design was almost complete. "I don't know what to do about the head," Timmy said disconsolately. "I've never drawn a Chinese face before." "You can draw mine," Elliot suggested. Timmy raised his eyes to Elliot's face. This time, the urge to look away shyly never came. Timmy was finally free to drink in and explore those sharp, intelligent, confident deep brown eyes, without feeling like he was staring. Elliot's skin was tan and smooth like porcelain, but not feminine. His high cheekbones were finely chiselled, and with the benefit of a few more years of development over Timmy, his face was long and angular, his jaw square and resolute. It was the face of someone who was becoming a man. His short hair was jet black, shiny, and naturally spikey. Something made Timmy want to reach out and touch Elliot's cheek, but he knew he shouldn't. Instead he bowed his head and went to work, filling in the head of the superhero with a near photographic replica of Elliot's face on top of the mighty body. Elliot stared in belief and saw HIMSELF as a superhero. "Let's make him stronger," Elliot prodded, suddenly drunk with the idea of being a superhero, and wanting more. "You mean...?" "More powerful!" Timmy went to work with eraser and pencil, undoing parts of the superhero's frame and each time replacing them with something bigger than what he'd dared to imagine. Legs became thicker, boots longer, the pecs swelled, lats spread out even more, while the waist became tighter. Something about making this new superhero grow before their eyes made Timmy tingle with excitement, and his vision narrowed to a tunnel that focused only on what he was drawing. He didn't notice that Elliot's body was now touching against his, or that Elliot's breathing had quickened. And he was far too immersed in his own drawing to notice that his own boy cock had stiffened in his pants. At last Timmy finished his changes and leaned back in his chair to survey his work. "Yes! Now let's make him UNSTOPPABLE!" Elliot exclaimed in a low moan. He leaned into the last word, his voice dripping with a devious desire that he was no longer trying to hide. Timmy tingled all over to hear the word 'unstoppable'. He wanted that too! It thrilled him to earn Elliot's admiration by making him an invincible, massively powerful superhero. Deep inside him, something cruel awoke; it thrilled him to make this Chinese superhero with a Chinese face and a Chinese flag on his chest MORE than any of the American heroes he knew from comic books. He was going to make this hero -- he was going to make Elliot - utterly dwarf all of them! Now his boy cock had become so stiff that he couldn't help but notice it. He wondered if the same had happened to Elliot, but dared not look. Timmy's eraser and pencil flew across the drawing anew. He inflated the pecs into perfect, almost balloon-like bulges of pure, unadulterated power, and heard Elliot moan out loud when he re-drew the stars of China's flag, warped and stretched across them. Six pack abs turned into eight pack abs, but then with urging from Elliot, ten-pack abs. The biceps and triceps became so massive they could almost touch the hero's fanned out lats, despite the hands on his hips stance. Moving to the legs, Timmy added ripples built on top of shredded bulges, starting from the quads right down to the top of the boots. To finish the drawing off, Timmy drew rubble and fractured ground under the Chinese hero's boots, as if his massive weight pulverized everything he walked on. Timmy leaned back again, and at first there was only stunned silence from Elliot. Finally he said, "He's perfect." Timmy wanted to jump up and touch the ceiling he was so happy. "And he's Chinese!" Timmy offered, since he knew it was important enough to Elliot that he'd suggest it. "China has a superhero now." "No... an ULTRA-hero. More powerful than ANYTHING! " Elliot said, with awe in his voice. The words caught Timmy by surprise, but when he understood their meaning and realized what he had done, it pushed him beyond his limit. His whole slender frame tensed and his toes curled inside his shoes. A feeling starting in his groin and radiated out in all directions. It was an odd feeling that he only got once before when climbing a rope in gym class. It felt like he needed to use the bathroom, but nothing came out. Just as the feeling grew so strong he worried if it might start to hurt, it started to wane, leaving him gauzy-headed. He could feel his stiff cock spasming inside his underpants. Being older and more experienced, Elliot knew what had just happened to Timmy, and that's when he realized the drawing was having the same effect on both of them. Elliot shifted in his chair, and the awkwardness of his motions belied that he was trying to hide something. Head still gauzy and boycock still twitching, Timmy gulped and took a quick glance down at Elliot's groin, only to discover that what the erection inside his own pants was happening to Elliot too. Except that because Elliot was the older and taller boy, the fabric of his slacks was being visibly tented out. Timmy gasped out loud as he realized that he was seeing Elliot pop a boner, and that the size of it was far beyond what Timmy ever imagined having. Elliot saw that he was caught, shoved legs together hastily, and drew closer to the table to hide his tent. Their eyes locked in wordless acknowledgement of their shared arousal. And then the idea occurred to Timmy just as Elliot was about to say it. Timmy swivelled back to the drawing table, erased a small patch of the drawing on the hero's groin, and replaced it with a round bulge. It was the first time he'd thought about this area as he drew a superhero. None of the comic books ever had any kind of bulge in that region. "More," Elliot said in a hoarse whisper. Timmy erased and re-drew the bulge to be rounder. Elliot didn't seem to approve, and pushed himself back from the table, giving Timmy a view of his bulge again. Timmy stared long and hard at the tube-shaped outline in the black slacks, then turned back to the table and drew the outline of a cock with shaking hands. "Yes! You made him bigger than Captain America!" Elliot moaned. Timmy's body tingled all over to hear that. Only now did he realize what he'd done: he'd made this Chinese superhero to be everywhere better and stronger and BIGGER than Captain America, who used to be his ultimate hero! There was no going back from that. Timmy seized the eraser, undid his work, and redrew the package three times as big. "Captain America is NOTHING compared to him!" Timmy wailed, the defeat in his voice telling just how completely he'd given up on his own country's hero and accepted the new one. "Now the world has ADMIRAL China," Elliot offered triumphantly. "ADMIRAL China," Timmy moaned in agreement. Upon hearing himself say the name, he felt the same radiating, tingling feelings spreading out from his groin across his whole body again, even more powerfully than before. The pleasure he was receiving seemed like a reward for saying his name aloud. "ADMIRAL CHIIIINA," he moaned again and again. This time he felt something wet and and warm and sticky leak out into his underpants. Both boys jumped out of their chairs when the silence was broken by the sound of keys brusquely unlocking the front door downstairs. Timmy's parents had just come home from work. Even though both boys couldn't grasp what they were doing, they KNEW it was something terribly, terribly wrong. Timmy turned the drawing upside down and jammed it under the desk blotter. Elliot scooted his chair away from Timmy and dove into his backpack to pull out a math book. Timmy did the same. "Timmy, are you home, dear?" He could hear his mom laboring up the stairs toward his bedroom. "Let me do the talking," Timmy whispered into Elliot's ear. Elliot nodded in ashen agreement then turned to his book and pretended to study just as Timmy's mother appeared at the bedroom door. "Oh. Hello!" she said in surprise to see Elliot. "Hi, Ma. Umm, this is my friend from school, Elliot. He came home to study with me, if that's OK," Timmy said innocently. A day ago he wouldn't have dared to imagine that he and the tall Asian boy he spied on would be friends, but now it was his word to use. It thrilled him. "Well, of course that's fine!" his mother answered, relieved that her son had finally managed to make a new friend, and pleased that the friend seemed to be the studious type. "He's from China," Timmy added clumsily, surprising even himself that he said it. As he uttered the word 'China', he felt the tingling pleasure building up yet again, but fought it back down before it could take hold. His mom nodded, and turned to go back downstairs, calling over her shoulder, "I'll fix you and Elliot some snacks when you get hungry." And with that, the boys were alone again. They sat in stunned silence, afraid to move or look at each other or even talk. Finally, Elliot lifted his lanky frame from his chair and said, "I... I have to go." "No, stay," Timmy begged. "We can do more!" "Not with your parents here!" Elliot responded, with derision in his voice that cut Timmy to the quick. "Can I have the drawing?" Timmy felt crestfallen. His mom had messed everything up. Elliot now thought he was stupid for wanting to do more, and he'd made a fool out of himself by peeing in his pants, or whatever that was. And now Elliot wanted to take away the drawing he'd made... that THEY'D made together. Probably just to throw it out, to pretend none of this ever ever happened. They wouldn't talk any more. He'd go back to being by himself at school, watching his hero Elliot from across the school yard. Tears started to well up in Timmy's eyes. "Can I have the drawing?" Elliot repeated more insistently. Timmy swallowed back the lump in his throat. "Please..." he wimpered. "Just give me the drawing!" Elliot barked. Timmy looked over his shoulder at the door, then cautiously slid the drawing out from its hiding space. In one last, desperate attempt to bring back Elliot's interest, he grabbed a red colored pencil, and wrote "MIGHTY ADMIRAL CHINA" in large letters across the top, then handed it over. Elliot hurriedly creased the prized drawing in the middle, jammed it in his backpack, and got up to leave. "Bye, Timmy," he said, as he sauntered down the stairs and let himself out the front door. Timmy watched through watery eyes from his upstairs window as Elliot hurried down the driveway and away onto the street. It was over before it had begun. (To be continued!)