Copyright 2001. Disclaimer:
a) The following story is a work of fiction, and the rights of this series belong to its author.
b) If you are breaking one or more of your local laws by reading this, don't read any further! And,
c) I never realized how hard writing can be-try it for yourself sometime if you have something to say!
Comments are welcomed, let me know what you think. Also: Thanks to all those Nifty authors who have inspired me; you may never know who you are, but the stories I have read here made me laugh, cry, and generally hope for the best. I may be lonely sometimes, but you guys made me feel like I'm not not alone. If you're interested, my first story began can be found in the category 'Relationships' under the title 'Jase 'n' Zach'. Eric got his start there, and I hope to continue both his story and theirs.
Chapter 1. Say Not-
"I love you Zach."
The words echoed in my head as I pulled my bike over to the wall and stared across the bay to the horizon. The view, when you focused in, consisted of little more than the local landfill and several huge phosphate mounds. How could I have opened my mouth and put my foot in it so neatly? It's not like I practice, or anything.
Say not-but they are spoken no way to call them back
oh anguish come find yourself in me the question begs but the answer steals all promise and hope
the fire flares, consuming itself in denial, now ashes cold and scattering swiftly before a wind cruel
its voice the pain of failed dreams under a sky darkening to night forever-say not.
I sat on the bike, one foot on the wall, a half-formed poem piecing itself together in my thoughts as I absently rocked on my bike. It had felt good to get everything off my chest by finally coming out to Zach, and fortunately he hadn't pushed me away.
Shit, I keep forgetting Jase.
I mean, how would I feel if I were in his place? I had just told his partner-no, his husband-I was madly in love with him. And Jase, he outweighed me by-I looked down and counted on my fingers-well, plenty more fingers than I have, I thought sourly, and I'll bet he'll kick my ass when he finds out.
I probably would.
If life on earth didn't suck, we'd all fall off for sure. A cute guy skated past me and nodded, and I turned briefly to watch a pair of sexy legs clad in spandex from mid thigh to waist accelerate away. I briefly imagined following him and introducing myself as he stopped at the water fountain near the end of the sidewalk to drink.
"Hi, my name's Eric-what's yours?"
He would probably be straight. Friendly maybe, but straight. I couldn't get away from men and I couldn't seem to attract them. High school had been a living hell for me, unnoticed by others; being actively involved in sports meant I had spent plenty of time in the showers with naked guys. I horsed around, I hung out, but never once did I feel like I belonged. On the surface, though, I fit in-my teammates slapped my ass, we laughed at the same dirty jokes, and we talked about the opposite sex. A couple of friendships had managed to survive graduation, but I mostly kept to myself.
Entering college had felt like a fresh start. The place was full of cute guys I hadn't grown up with, and for whom I could be anything; I didn't have to explain why I had pretended to be one thing when I was another, and maybe I could just be myself. So far, nobody knew me at all. Most days of the year you had plenty of gorgeous, half-naked men tanning themselves on the grass near the library, walking around in tank tops and shorts, or just racing around on one of the many athletic fields dotting the campus. Surely some of them were like me? Everywhere I looked, I saw guys that made me hard. Guys that made me sigh in longing. Guys I wanted to know in the biblical way. Between my sunglasses and my nonchalant attitude, my secret remained undiscovered.
Joggers and dogwalkers went by as I watched the afternoon thunderstorms release their burden of water in the distance. The rain fell in dark, gray sheets from the base of the clouds, spreading out as it neared the ground and following the downdrafts. It was as if millions of tears were falling to splash against an unfeeling earth and I felt my throat tighten in sudden despair.
I wanted to be a part of someone else's life. I wanted to have their arms around me as I fell asleep, to explore them in tenderness or wrestle in urgent need as we made love. Had it been offered, though, I probably would have jumped at the chance for nothing more than an anonymous sex. The ocean in front of me was like a desert to the man dying of thirst; surrounded by men everywhere I turned, I was desperate for sex, starved for affection, and wondering how in the world I would ever survive this pain.
The skater passed by me once more as I gazed into the distance, this time going the other direction, and something in the way he moved made me think of Zach. I couldn't bear this much longer. The hopes I had built up in my head were no more than that small bird I could see flying away from me towards the storm-lost, alone, and fading quickly against the blackness until nothing was left.
I think my head knew all along that my desire for Zach had been misplaced ; because he and Jase were the only gay guys I knew, because they were like the brothers I'd always wanted, and because I longed for a relationship like theirs I had made them into what I wanted so badly. What they had felt so right, SO normal- I wanted to scream and strike out at a world that could hate me for wanting the same. In fear I was silent, my integrity misplaced. Zach had, through example, done what no one else could; he had gotten me to finally admit out loud what I knew so well inside. How could I have possibly let myself fall for him, just for being kind to me, knowing so well that he had given himself completely to someone else? It wasn't right, and my heart had grasped at straws.
Pushing off from the wall angrily, I fought to keep from crying. I jumped the bike over cracks in the concrete, racing for home, concentrating only on the strain in my muscles and the sweat running down my body. It was the only answer I had, and maybe just a little cathartic at that.
The apartment was empty when I got there; most likely Grandma was at the grocery store. Gram and I were really close, and these days it was just the two of us. Dad had died when I was just a few years old, his wife dumping me in the divorce that freed her from early responsibility-she wanted away from our family so bad, she didn't even want me, I guess. Grandfather had done his part to drive her away; mom used my dad's death as an excuse to get away. I never knew her and I didn't care what happened to her; my real mom has always been my grandmother.
From what Gram tells me, I probably would have liked my dad.
Grandpa passed away when I was in Junior High-Gram and I closed ranks and I never looked back. I know she missed him, and she looked to me now as the man of the house, which. How would Gram react if she knew I was gay? Grandad had never held back in his straightlaced disparaging of "them God-Damned HO-MO-SEXU'LS." I never figured out how he managed to turn it into three words, but he did.
Well, granddad, guess what? Your 19-year-old grandson is one of `THEM'. I glanced at his now permanently unoccupied recliner as I went to my room to crash. My pants hit the floor in the corner almost as soon as the bedroom door slammed shut, followed immediately by my shirt, and and jockeys. I hit the futon and thought again about Zach. Why can't I meet someone like him? He's perfect-he's older, smarter, great- looking, and hung like a-ok, so I don't actually know that part. Thinking about him made me hard, and I gripped myself with one thing in mind. I looked up, and suddenly realized the fish in the aquarium seemed to be staring at me. Can they see me? Do they know what I'm doing? Wait-do fish even have dicks? I decided I didn't care, and got back to the business at hand. I had one of those slightly larger than average size members, one which could poke up past the waistband of my jeans if I didn't keep it off to one side. I was very self-conscious when hard (in public, that is), as it could really be obvious, sometimes.
The head of my cock pointed towards the ceiling as my hand stroked up and down, and I sank back into the pillows, shifting my grip to the sensitive area just below the head as I got stiff. I intended to do this right, so I searched blindly under the edge of the bed for the jar of moisturizing cream I'd stole from Gram, and daubed some on the palm of my hand to make jacking off easier.
Oops, need a towel.
I searched under the edge of the futon with one hand to see if one was there, but I felt nothing. Any port in a storm, I thought as I dove for my jockeys and spread them across my stomach to catch the flood from what was going to be the pity spank of the year. My balls ached every day just from being near Zach.
Thoughts ceased as I squeezed my eyes closed, and I flexed my toes as the sensations grew. Just. . .there-now harder. . .ahhhh. . .little faster. . .ummmmm. . .ok-
Hello Houston? We have orgasm!
My body tensed, becoming rock hard as I arched my back and shot my frustrations and every other feeling I had into my shorts; the world narrowed in those few moments to the incredible sensation of release. Eventually, my senses returned, exhaustion kicked in, and I wiped myself clean feeling only emptiness inside. I tossed the damp briefs out of sight under the edge of the futon then curled on my side, pulling the single sheet up over me.
Shit-what a fucking mess. I needed hope, but all I had was a bleak, dead despair.
The tears started again and I pressed a hand over my eyes in a futile attempt to hold the floodgates back. It didn't help. Thinking of nothing but Zach, I finally faced reality and sobbed in denial as I let my dreams go.