This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to any person, place, or written works are purely coincidental. It may contain consensual sex between young men. Do not read if you find that objectionable or if it is illegal for you to view this content for whatever the reason.
Copyright 2009 Jade. All Rights Reserved. Do not post, copy, or use this story in any manner without my permission.
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In the Shadows of Our Lives Part 1 - On Broken Wings XII ~ Torn, My Affection [Chance Encounter] ~
Dear Journal:
After I came out to my mom I stayed the night with Chris. He took me to the mall the next morning to replace my cell phone that we ruined in his pool. I worked that night, and the next two days, all the while trying to avoid my mom.
My first day off I found I needed to do a little introspection. I made my way to the Woodlands Cemetery not far from home and found the marker for my dad. Sitting on his plot I had the usual internal conversation with him; hoping he'd accept me if he were alive and not hate who I am, asking why life has to be so difficult on the heart, and wishing we had the chance to really get to know each other. Only this time was different. When I was younger I'd sneak off there on my own. This time I called Deanna up and asked her to meet me there on her way into the city from Austin before she hit our house.
Half an hour after I parked myself on a bench Deanna walked up and sat down, flanking me on the bench. Dee put an arm around me and I cried. She spoke for dad, more or less answering the questions I always ask him. We sat there for a good while, just taking in the quiet tranquility of the place and then made our way back home.
When we got back home Dee chose to cheer everyone up by revealing that she and Scott are two months pregnant. She didn't want to tell anyone until after the first trimester, but thought it was the right time. Looks like I get to be an uncle Journal, and I lost a personal bet with myself that Lacey would be the first to be pregnant, even though she's almost 9 years younger than Dee.
Oh yeah Journal, I have to tell you about my new job that Larry got me. Starting in September I get to help at the downtown food bank sorting and stocking donations, and serving food at the adjacent Veterans shelter. I need some sort of community volunteer work for my college/university applications so Larry has chosen one for me. It's one night a week, but with two jobs already on top of school I don't know how I'm going to fit Tim in, if Mom lets him live with us, let alone Chris. Maybe I'll sneak in bed with Tim at night and we can have our quality time then! He's a nice guy, maybe he'll be like my internet friend Duncan's best friend Benji and just go along with it for me. Not! As for Chris, I don't know what time I'll have for my boyfriend. I'm getting used to the idea of a boyfriend that wants to have sex with me all the time, even if he always wants me to top.
Beyond that, there's one other thing that has been forefront on my mind the past few days. There's this guy. His name is Paul. He's certainly not new to you Journal, he's not new to the school, or Houston or anything like that. Nope, I've noticed him and drooled over him for about a year now. Yes, I freely admit that would mean that I was getting boned up over him even when I was with Daniel. Just because I was happy in a relationship doesn't mean that I'm not going to get horny over other guys. What can I say, in my opinion the boy is hot! But I screwed things up with him. I thought that somehow there was reciprocal interest.
I have this amazing ability you see; I can look at any guy, and if he's cute I can pick out mannerisms in him to suit my needs enough to convince myself that he must be gay. Yeah, it's shallow and vain I guess. Or maybe just sad? My internet friend Duncan says that I'm not alone in this; he does the same thing. Apparently he's read that psychologically it's our way of making others seem more like ourselves, so that we can feel good about ourselves.
I remember a debate in class with Neil over the Greek Gods, how they are modeled in our own image, each with character flaws that we can tear apart. In being able to tear down our paper gods it makes our own flaws more acceptable. It stands to reason then I guess that as a gay teenager I see the whole world as being gay. It makes me acceptable. Speaking of paper gods, I think I now have a better understanding of Def Leppard's song Paper Sun.
On the humourous side of my fatal flaw, it's like silent revenge or something to the straight majority in that I privately assess their sexuality and am attracted to them. It would probably creep out most of them if they stopped to think about it. So condemn me for my thoughts if you must, but I dream of a world where a boy can look at another boy and say to him that he's good looking. In this world the boy being complimented takes the compliment graciously and feels good about himself. Rather than ignoring it and hurrying along, pointing and laughing, saying something derogatory or worse, getting violent, even if he is 100 percent heterosexual he can still say thank-you. Then, being compassionate enough, he can tell the boy who screwed up enough courage to compliment him that he is in fact straight, but appreciates the compliment. I mean come on, as gay boys we get hit on by unknowing girls and feel a better self worth, just no reciprocal interest. Think I'm delirious Journal? Haha, me too.
But fuck, if someone thinks you are cute, or nice or whatever, what does it matter who it comes from? I'm not talking about pedophilia or any creepy-ass shit like that. That is so not what I mean. And I also don't think that the attraction should be acted upon if it is not reciprocal. And that brings me back to Paul. This is where my lines start to blur. Even though we're pretty much strangers he's in my life again simply because he asked me if everything is O.K. when I was in a moment of need.
So aside from that, not a lot has gone on this summer. I've spent more time with Kevin and Neil than I have with Chris. I thought I would be third wheel to Neil and Tania this summer but that hasn't happened yet. Tania and Neal are taking the summer off or broken up or something that I really don't want to delve into. We haven't partied a lot, I'm not sure why. Basically the only socializing I've managed so far this summer is playing a lot of baseball and working a lot. As for Chris, there's only been one night that he's come over, almost a week after I came out to Ma.
So it's July 23rd today. I go to New York City August 3rd for a week with Chris and his dad. A whole week! And plus, his dad is going to be busy most of the time and we only have to go to the convention the first day to help set something up. Then we're on our own for 5 days! I have been playing Ace Frehley's New York Groove a lot lately. Ma tells me to stop rubbing it in, she hasn't been back there in over 20 years now.
That's O.K. though, if things go as planned she'll be going on a vacation for the first time in 5 years. It started when Tim and I were talking over his options about coming back here for our senior year. Larry overheard my conversation and we worked out a strategy as to how to get my Ma to go for it. Well, I worked out a strategy. All it took was coming out to her. After that I'm sure she'll do almost anything for me; kinda like that South Park episode when Stan's mom hides the dead bodies that his evil-dimensional goldfish kills. I know it was wrong of me to play my Ma's heart strings like that. So anyhow, the third week of August, one week after I get back from New York we're going to New Orleans for 5 days.
I'm pretty sure there are alligators in Louisiana, so Journal, later gater! Jon.
).:.(<<
It's another blistering hot summer day amidst a heat wave in mid July. The first day I've seen Paul all summer in fact. After my shift at the music store in Northwest Mall I'm passing my time in the climate-controlled comfort of the air conditioned expanse of stores before heading to my job at the restaurant. I have to buy a new pair of pure white running shoes for work because I killed mine beyond the point of ever getting them clean when I stupidly wore them putting down the last of the sod yesterday with Larry. But yeah, with four hours between jobs I am basically killing time in the air conditioned mall like I used to before I met Daniel, and then like we used to do together.
I'm just wandering around aimlessly listening to a mixed CD from Duncan on my discman in one ear, Diana Ross's `Theme From Mahogany' (Do You Know Where You're Going To?) playing over the mall speakers providing contrast to the other ear. I can't say where I've been or what store I just came out of, I'm just deep in thought, and yet thinking about nothing specific. Looking across the divided walkway of the upper floor I see this cute looking guy heading towards the food court.
I instantly think he looks a lot like Paul, except his hair is way lighter and much shorter than Paul's. The bodies are similar, only this guy has glasses. But what a body he has, in those tan cargo shorts and red polo t-shirt. Mmmm. Finger licking good! How good those legs look tapering to white athletic socks and cute running shoes. So of course I do a 180 and start to follow in his direction. He heads to the public washroom so I grab a seat in the food court. I'm watching the exit for him as I switch to a Serial Joe CD Duncan turned me onto and press play. I put the CD player back in my backpack as he exits. I'm ready to get up and follow but he goes to Arby's. He gets it to go and starts walking. I get up from the other side of the food court and head the way he's heading.
I'm on one side of the circular food court; he's on the other side. Keeping myself to a fast walk rather than running I intend to get right behind him when we meet up in the hallway where the two aisles join up. I'm too fast so to avoid getting there first and therefore losing my chance to slip in behind and stare at him, I stop and pretend to adjust the ear bud chord from my backpack. I follow him down the narrower store lined hallway and into the main area of the mall.
I'm like 10 feet behind him as we head wherever he's going when he suddenly stops at a rest area to tie his shoelace. His leg is up on a bench in the little sitting area where this hall meets up with the main hallway of the mall. I cop a look at the top of his butt crack with the shorts sitting low on his butt and his un-tucked shirt pulling up his back exposing about 2 inches of tanned perfection. Then BAM! I clip the side of a huge garbage that I somehow didn't see. Taking a header I twist so that I land on my ass. I want to die right here on the spot of embarrassment. To make things worse he looks my way.
He walks over to me and extends a hand to help me up, "Shit dude, are you O.K?"
I realize that this is in fact Paul and it looks like he's bleached his hair and cut it. He has maybe about half an inch of hair left; just enough to make tiny little spikes. Much like Chris's hair, only shorter. I want to be anywhere but here as he's being all nice and helpful to me. Actually just at the moment as feelings for him rattle out of their hiding places within me, what I really want is to hug him and never let go! But I have to distance myself from that thought. He's staring into my eyes. I can make myself believe that he did or didn't do this at school until the cows come home, but I know he did look me right in the eyes just now. I've heard that two un-interrupted seconds of a mutual gaze indicates sexual interest. Oh how I wish it could be so! Wait, was that two seconds? It had to be two seconds.
Oh yeah, he's looking at me because he's waiting for a response! Answering his concern I say, "Yeah, I'm fine."
"You sure," He asks before breaking the eye lock.
"Um yeah. For sure. Thanks, by the way," I say.
"Alright then, you're welcome. Take it easy. I hafta get back to work, but it's good to see you," He flashes me a smile and then walks off.
He bothered to talk to me! And not just anything, he asked out of concern rather than to make fun of me! That's rare out of a teenage guy that doesn't even really know the other guy except for drunken talk about life at a beach bash some months ago and then a quick joint and a drive home that he offered me like a month later. I mean especially rare from a straight teenage guy to a rumored gay guy that he has to know crunched on him.
Man how I messed that one up by staring at his crotch! He had to have seen me stare. He has to know that the rumors about me are all true. But he's really nice; I know because he's always been nice to people in the classes I've had with him. Ah, bullshit, I know he's nice because of the now three outside of school encounters I've had with him. Plus he never kicked my ass or even spread the word that I am into his crotch when he caught me perving on him. I'll admit that we don't really know each other, but we used to make a lot of eye contact in school even if it wasn't fully mutual and always instigated on my part. Yeah, I admit that I used to stalk him at school. Still, our problem, or more specifically my problem, is that we just don't know each other.
He's way cute. He's more the baseball player type build. I think anyway. I really don't know how to generalize what a guy looks like, but guys seem to be grouped into categories like that, so because he plays baseball and looks great in the uniform I'll say he's got a baseball players build. He's my height, maybe 5'10", and thick, like probably 160 -170 lbs. I don't know, I really can't guess weight to save my life either now that I think about it. I'm 135ish myself, so comparing him to me I'll say he's in that range. But he's somewhat built and definitely defined. Like a larger model of Daniel. Up until today he had straight dark brown hair parted in the middle, and has perfect eyebrows over his green eyes. He has sideburns, just a few freckles, pillowey reddish pink lips and straight, white teeth. And he has a killer smile that elevates him beyond All-American boy-next-door caliber to really good looking, like model good looking. To me at least. Maybe not to the next person, but it's the reaction in my pants that I value, thank you very much!
He flashes his smile at me as he walks away and I hurt. I had that. I had Daniel. Now I see Paul, and I hurt because I want him. How fucking pathetic and desperate I am that just by showing the slightest human compassion to me, I'm obsessed with him again. But I can't ever have him. He's not gay. Or is he? How would I even approach him? How do I find out about him? It was so hard with Daniel; can I do it again? No, fuck that! Against all odds somehow befriend him, tell him I'm gay and that I want to have sex with him?
`Hey! Remember me from that beach party? We drank a few and smoked a couple together? And remember the time after the baseball game that you asked me for a joint in exchange for a ride home and I copped a look at your crotch as I'm sure you noticed? Well yes, I was just now admiring your ass as you bent over. Not that I knew it was you. But yeah, just so you know, you're good looking coming and going! Anyhow, in my distraction, fixated on your glorious butt, I didn't see the garbage can there. I sideswiped it and lost my balance. Come to think of it, I think I broke my ass if the pain means anything. Anyways. I wasn't even sure it was you at first to be honest because I've never seen you wear glasses before let alone rocking blondish spiked hair. Oh, by the way, you are a fucking babe with those tiny preppy wire rim glasses too. Not to say that you didn't already look adorable to me before I ever saw you in glasses. It's not as If I don't already drool over you and still beat off to thoughts of your naked body. So, what do you say, wanna be my friend? Wanna let me pound your sweet ass? Better yet, how do you feel about putting your front tab in my back slot instead? Do you wanna pound my ass with your beautiful manhood? Please? I know you have a daughter and you're straight, but you could humour me and get your rocks off at the same time. I swear it would be our secret forever! Straight guys do that all the time don't they? You know, do guys on the side for kicks? At least in my fantasy world they do! You could even humiliate me while you do it and I'd be O.K. with that; I just want to have you so badly. I've read stories where straight guys do that all the time. I'm sure reality is quite different and straight guys are really 100% straight; but then hey, this is my fantasy so indulge me. O.K.? So Paul, waddaya say? Will you marry me?'
Yeah, dream on buddy; dream on, I tell myself.
Still, something in his eyes has always made me wonder about him. Everything I know about him supports the fact that he's straight but I get a nagging notion that he's not. My cruel mind likes to play mean tricks on my heart! I could ask Tim about him, but I'm sure he remembers the day in front of the varsity locker room that Neil did an eye association between Paul and I to him. If I asked him it would for sure give me away. Oh, what to do, what to do?
And then there's Chris, my boyfriend. Why am I even still looking at the other fish in the sea? Kay, wait; bad analogy seeing as I don't know how to tell the gay boys from the straight ones. Fish would be even harder! Excuse me, are you a gay fish? I'm looking for a gay fish, any gay fish here? Sha-right! I need to get back to reality. How can my head get so far up in the clouds just because my eyes focused on the very top of Paul's exposed ass crack when his un-tucked shirt rode up as he bent over to tie a shoe in front of me?
First class looser that I am; here I am making fantasy settings where we're friends and he knows I'm gay and is cool with it because his eyes seemed to linger on mine. He was probably trying to assess if I was concussed, or I was seeing something that wasn't even there. Maybe I only think he returned my gaze for longer than a straight guy would because that's what I want to have happened.
Oh well, I'm going to go looking for him anyways. No, it's not stalking him. Or is it? I'm gonna tell myself it's not. Now which way did he go? I thought he worked at the Walmart Super Centre, like 20 minutes away from the mall. No wait, did he make a comment back at the Beach Bash that his dad was making him get a second job for the summer? I think he did, maybe it's in the mall.
I put off my shoe shopping and search him out. I scan the whole mall looking for him until I give up. After a futile hour of search I return to The Sports Authority to buy shoes, where on a whim I had originally started in my quest to find Paul. On my way into the store Paul nods at me as I walk past him. Maybe he was in a backroom or lunch room eating when I first checked? Maybe I realized subconsciously that the uniform was from here and that's why I started my search here? I mean his uniform should have given his current workplace away but he was gone before I thought of it. The only images I could recall at will however was the dark blondish hair on his legs, and the couple inches of smooth back tapering to the very top of the tanned orbs that his shorts were hiding.
Trying to avoid looking at him, I stare at him countless times and avert my eyes when he looks my way. I'm amazed I manage to buy a pair of shoes that both fit the work dress code and fit my feet. He's working in the casual wear section near the front of the store, so when I go up to the cashier he actually comes over and nods at me again before I leave. I nod back. Hopefully he understands this exchange is me agreeing to let him rape me.
).:.(<<
The doorbell rings. I still don't have Kevin's number. Consequently I couldn't call him to tell him I'm going to be late. I missed connecting busses on my way back from work and have been home maybe 5 minutes. Larry lets Kevin in and gives me a shout. Kevin and I had planned on kicking together tonight. Just he and I, and Mary Jane of course. Instead he's wearing his baseball crap.
"What's up?" I ask.
"They left the lights on at Parkwood, so we're playing under the lights. C'mon, hurry up and get ready."
Uggh. Baseball again, "Kay, just give me a sec."
I change quickly into my baseball stuff. It's still a hot night but I put on Duncan's pants because the guys that seemed to notice also seemed to approve of these over my shorts. I'm not the kind of guy that likes the tight pants showing things off, especially since I am still not used to wearing a cup but whatever. Tim and the guys are totally comfortable going places before and after baseball in their fitted pants showing off their bulges, and act as if there's nothing to it. Me? I sure love looking, but not showing. I mean it's still a chore to me to even walk properly when wearing the thing. No matter, off we go to the park in record time for me getting ready for anything.
By the time we get there we manage to play a number of innings before the park maintenance guy comes by and tells us he's killing the lights. It's almost midnight. All the guys are dispersing and I couldn't be happier because tonight I threw the ball like a girl the one time it got hit to me. The only consolation is that I managed to actually catch that pop fly hit perfectly to me, and I only struck out once.
Kevin and I hang around the park area as everyone saunters off home. After watching the maintenance guy finally leave I pull out my tin and we head to the middle of the bleachers. I slip through the gap so that I am quasi hidden under the bleachers. Kevin sits on them backwards, facing me with his legs spread and dangling through the open space. He's lounging forward, arms folded on the wooden plank above the one he's sitting on and his head resting in the crook of his right elbow. After sparking up I move closer to him so that we can share. We talk bullshit back and forth for a bit.
20 minutes later, now starting our third and final one of the night I inch even closer to him, hoping he won't notice. I pretend to be higher than I really am so that he won't think anything of me getting closer. The breeze has been wafting the scent of his armpits and sweat my way. Crouching, I catch the unmistakable smell of man; a little bit ass, a lot sweaty crotch. This is why I have inched closer to him. I pretend to close my eyes. I keep my eyes open just a sliver so that it appears that they are closed when in fact I am looking at the bulge in his crotch that is about two feet from me. Kevin is somewhat skinny and his usually big bulge in jeans or shorts is obviously even more pronounced in his baseball gear. I'm contemplating finding out how big by offering him a blow job.
After I've inhaled deeply Kevin snaps his fingers at me and says, "Yo Jonny, up here."
Opening my eyes and passing to him, he laughs and uses the first two fingers of his free hand to point to his eyes, "I'm up here man. You do some on me when I didn't see? You're way gone man!"
Curious, I don't think he clued in to what I was doing, yet he closes his wide spread legs together. With his knees sweeping together inches from my nose I am legitimately caught off guard and startle, falling backwards. Passing back to me once I am back upright into a crouching position, he leans back and looks one last time for anyone around, and then joins me, slipping through the bleachers to the maze of metal tubing beneath.
I get up and we start walking. With a partly clouded mind it's kinda interesting navigating through the steel jungle. Kevin and I bump together so often it's like a soft-core porn with clothes on. At first I don't seize the opportunity, but I figure fuck-it and go with the flow. It's almost like we're intentionally playing bumper cars with our bodies as it is, so I start stopping at times and push back against him, all the while pretending to be avoiding a steel pole as I push back against him while he walks into me. Then I grind a tad, like a miniscule tad as I shift my body and change direction. It's little more than the briefest of brushes at most but it sexually excites me. I know I am far from lucid, but is he I wonder?
We started from about third base and have now made it to the path between sides, behind home plate. We go through the gate back onto the field and lounge down on a bench in the dugout. I'm sure it's quite long enough for us both to completely stretch out and not touch, but instead we are close enough so that with our feet on the ground our legs intertwine a bit; shins to ankles. Kevin is freely adjusting himself while I fight the urge. As if I wasn't already half hard, just seeing him doing so creates an actual need for me to, but I resist. I just try to imagine Rosanne or whatever her name is. You know, the fat woman that screeched out the National Anthem for a baseball game and then grabbed her crotch? Even this hideous image in my mind doesn't do the trick though. It makes me shudder but doesn't really deflate the pitched tent. About all it does is make me snicker and then all-out laugh. As I start to laugh Kevin doesn't even question it, he just starts to laugh too. In the state of mind we're in there doesn't need to be a reason for anything really.
After a while Kevin is just laying there on his back with his legs drawing invisible circles in the clear starscape above. He's totally chewed, totally wasted and I keep looking at his crotch. He's not that attractive, I don't consider him all that much of a friend, and yet I'm all but jumping his bones at the moment. To me this means it's time to go.
The instant I am home in my room I partly undress and have a little personal time. Seconds afterwards I promptly fall asleep with my baseball stuff still piled beside my pillow where a teddy bear might sit, or maybe a stuffed Tigger. I say this because that spot on the corner of my bed was Tigger's perch for a while when I was a kid, and again after Daniel bought me one. In a fit of rage back in April or May I mutilated the one Daniel gave me and it's now long gone to the landfill.
In the morning I get up later than I planed and have to race to get to the mall in time. It's only a weekday and there are no deliveries expected today, so as long as I have the music store open in time for `mall hours' I'll have dodged a bullet and lived. If we aren't open within 10 minutes of the mall's posted hours we get fined a thousand bucks.
I race like a bat out of hell to get there and put the cash boxes in the tills just before Anna, the other employee scheduled, strolls in. I have five minutes before the mall opens and was planning on counting both tills but Anna will rat me out that I didn't have them done already. They are supposed to be the first thing done so I act like I did them already and tell her to recount them. I play it off like they didn't originally balance, that one was over and the other was short the exact amount. She buys my BS and happily lets me know that they are good now.
Days like today suck. I start it off as Assistant Manager at one job where I'm now basically the top rung on the ladder aside from my sister Deanna, who is Regional Manager and uses our store as her base of operations. Hence she is still our location's Manager of Record. So lately I am king-shit at one job, and then I go to my other job later in the day where I am a lowly bus boy plunging other people's messes in a bathroom. I go from giving the directions to getting orders barked at me.
Killing time between jobs I stalk Paul in the mall again. I cruise through The Sports Authority but he's not there. Speaking of that store, having recently bought new shoes for my restaurant job, lately I'm debating whether I should have, or tried to make the ones I had do, and find a better job. One closer to home preferably too!
This guy Aaron started as a bus boy there after Daniel and I, never had to help as a dishwasher, and is now a server. I'm sure he's the same age as me, so it is pissing me off that I am the most reliable bus boy they have and the servers love when I'm working because they say their tables get re-sat quicker, and yet I get held back. I get to wondering if this is some sort of game on the part of Sonny, because he is Daniel's uncle after all. Maybe if I talk to Sonny I can learn how to serve too, and then I'll need the new white runners anyway.
When I get to work I ask to speak with him. He asks me what it's about and I tell him. He says that I have to follow the channels and talk to Tripp about it. Tripp doesn't like me for whatever reason and I tell Sonny as much, so he offers for the three of us to talk it over after my shift is done.
Towards the end of my shift I swear that Tripp is dragging my shift out. When the bus boy that was scheduled in as the closer gets cut before me I am livid inside. Emily, the server that caught Chris and I kissing ages ago senses that I am mad and notes that Tripp keeps jerking me around. I never asked her to, but she catches Sonny having dinner at the bar and says something to him. Sonny then goes to the host stand and studies the team sheet for a while. He then disappears to the office alone for a few minutes before returning to the bar to finish his dinner. When he's done eating he calls me over. Bottom line is that I am not legally old enough yet to serve alcohol, and after our discussion earlier he talked with our old manager Rhonda, and she wants me to transfer to her store.
Rhonda was in our store for 6 months waiting to get a store of her own. It's some policy they have intended to break the bonds of friendship and that way when the manager gets promoted they command more respect. At any rate, she manages a store up in the north end of Houston. It's about as far away from home as this one. The benefit of moving there is that Rhonda will let me become a server the day I turn legal age, but I have to be available to bus tables too if they require me to when absolutely needed. The other option I have is to stay here, put up with Tripp giving me a hard time, and wait to do my server training when they choose it's time. Knowing Tripp it never will be my time.
I could really use the extra bucks that serving will bring, and while I don't want to bail on Sonny because he's been good to me, Rhonda was a lot more fair than Tripp is. And yet, she's moved up into the same position Sonny is in, only at a different location. Her dining room manager might be a dick too. But I can't stand Tripp and I'll feel like I'm always under the gun working for him; he is constantly on a power trip!
While I'm mulling this over Sonny says that normally if I came in with an ultimatum about moving up or quitting he'd have just ignored me and let me quit. It's the way Tripp has screwed with me that has made him bend his rule. His advises me that Tripp is my manager, and I'll have to deal with him directly in the future if I choose to stay, so I am basically being told that I either have to start over or be subject to Tripp's abuse. It should be an easy decision but it's been a long day and I don't want to start over. I can't decide. I thank Sonny and tell him I'll have to think about it first.
When I finally finish work Chris is figuratively bored to tears outside, but he's still waiting for me. He's wanted me to meet his friends Greg and Gerry for the longest time. Gerry and Greg are a couple. Tonight we were supposed to go out for dinner with them after I was done work. Chris tells me I missed them, they headed out somewhere after waiting for a while. They have been together for a couple years now, and yet no one knows for sure about them, not even their families. Well, Chris and a few other guys from their swim team aside. It would have been nice to finally meet them and pick their brains on how they manage the charade that I am failing at.
Even though he's dressed up to go out we just head to my place instead and watch and episode of ER with Larry and Ma. Quality not holding hands time in front of Ma, gee what fun! My life is so supervised that I can't even figure out how to hold hands with my boyfriend, let alone cuddle with him or have sex lately. He's been beyond supportive and sweet each time we've talked since I came out to Ma, which is endearing me more to him, and even with Paul popping back up in my fantasies, images of Chris are what I find myself focusing on more than ever. I want badly to put my arm around him and hold him and tell him that he's actually the star of my fantasies more than ever, yet with the fact that Ma knows I find it hard to be myself and even hug my boyfriend in front of her. I know the issue is me, not her or him, and it really sucks for him.
As I walk Chris out to his car I ask him, "Babes, do you have a few more minutes?"
He smiles, maybe thinking that we are going to finally make out, "For you I have all night!"
Leading him to the deck out back I share, "I'm torn. Work, Ma, you, Tim. It's just getting to be too much for me."
We talk for a while about it. The first one's easy, he suggests, "Take the transfer to the new place if Tripp is always jerking you around."
I'm torn that I hide `us' from Ma even now that I'm out. We talk about that but only come up with the obvious; be myself.
I'm torn about how to tell him about Tim hopefully coming to live with me. I shock Chris with the whole Tim deal, "Kay. You know my friend Tim right? Well, you don't know him, but you know what I've told you about him. There's a chance he might be living here with me for the school year. Not sure of the details yet, but he'll have his own room I think. And while yes, I would hump his leg like a dog if I could, he'd brush me off just like a dog. I'm certain Tim is a thousand percent straight."
He's not happy about it; in fact he gets defensive, "It's not my place to make demands, but I want to meet him. If he's cool with you, if I don't get to meet him, we're through. You have to give me that. If you worship him so much, if he and I don't get to meet, than you'll pick him over me unless he gets to meet me as your boyfriend."
I have to concede, "Fair enough, I'll grant you that, but how do I tell him I smoke guys poles? He knows he's good looking, he'll know I would do him if the circumstances were right; like I was single, and he was desperate. I know it'll never happen 'cause I've slept with him a ton of times and well, it'd never in a million years happen. And I don't want you thinking that you are not the priority in my life that you are actually becoming either, please don't think that Babes. But how do I tell him I'm gay?"
"Just tell him. And before he's here. You tell him I'm your boyfriend or I can't keep seeing you. I can't be your shameful secret. I know I love you Jon, you have to give me that at least," He says, his voice thick with emotion.
It's not like Tim doesn't know, he knows `Blondie' is my boyfriend, he certainly gave off that impression the day before he had to leave. I do want the two to meet because they are the two most important people to me. But I've sort of decided that Tim wants to live with me, so the decision's been made for me. Sure he can back out if it bothers him that I'm gay, although I don't want him to. But it's only right to give him the chance.
Now I'm also torn over the way I have just made Chris feel, "I can't believe that I am so callous and self centered as to talk like this to you. Chris, I've thought about it a lot lately, and while sex is stressful because neither one of us chooses to top, I really think I am in love with you. I don't mean to push you away and treat you like you're my dirty laundry and scandalous secret. Here, let me prove it."
My mom is inside the screen door looking out at us. She may have caught some or all of the conversation. I don't know if Chris knows she's there, but I pull him towards me and start kissing him.
He's about to start making out, groping me and telling me he loves me when I interrupt him, "Ma alert. She's seen the whole thing so just kissing, kay? When I said prove it, I meant to prove it to you by kissing you in front of her, to show both of you that I do love you too."
Chris got so upset about the Tim situation that I don't bother telling him about the homoerotic encounter with Kevin when my head was basically between his legs. I was torn on whether to tell him or not. I have to tell him, but now is not the best time. And finally I am torn about my cheating eyes, heart and mind. He's my boyfriend and my loyalty should be to him, yet my affection that won't go away is for Paul Hunter. The only thing I am not torn about is whether to tell him that or not, I have to. But that too is best left for another time. I do like, maybe even love Chris, and I don't want to throw any more wrenches in the way for now. So for now I am just going to push everything out of my mind and concentrate on the fact that while I am horny as shit lately and looking at other guys, I do have strong feelings for Chris.
My mom smiles as I lead Chris inside the kitchen through the screen door, holding hands, "Sorry boys, I didn't mean to stare. Seeing that makes it real. Part of me doesn't know what to think; that I want to shoe you away from my son, Chris. But part of me feels, I don't know, happy for Jonny's happiness."
With my arms around Chris's waist I look to my mom, "Ma, how O.K. are you with me? I hope you're really O.K. because I treated Chris like a leper on the couch tonight when all I wanted to do was hold him. Instead I gave him the cold shoulder because I didn't want to do something in front of you guys. Can you accept me doing this?"
She's at a loss for words for a moment. Not that I think my sexuality is a hardship on her, it must still be hard to wrap her head around it, "I can accept it Jonny. In fact I was worried about your relationship when you didn't touch at all. I guess I always pictured myself as a proud mother looking on while you hold a girl that way. Just because it's a boy, it would be hypocritical if I felt any different. And besides, even though it's from a mother's perspective, you two are cute together."
I press my luck, "Cute enough that Chris can stay over seeing as it's almost 2:30 in the morning?"
"Sure, if you sleep on the couch while he sleeps in your bed," She says.
I argue, "Ma, you let Scott stay over with Deanna, you let me sleep with him at his place, why can't Chris sleep with me here? That's hypocritical."
I see realization come across her face. She nods and walks away, "It would seem you're right. Turn the lights off on your way to bed boys. Goodnight."
In my room Chris looks at my baseball gear from last night and as he lifts my sheets to hop into bed he finds the Hanes I unloaded into. He picks it up and smiles at me. After tossing it aside he looks back to the pile of baseball gear, "You got one! I'd wear it under the sliding shorts if I were you. It's way more comfortable."
I brush the uniform off the bed and turn off my light. We start making out and soon every scrap of our clothing is strewn somewhere in the room. I reach up for a tin on my shelf and pull out a condom and some lube. Last time Chris was willing to top because he had a plug in himself while he did so. We hem and haw over who gets to bottom tonight, but I relent and sheath myself because I've been an ass to my boy lately.
Chris likes to fire his rocket while I'm drilling him, I like it when he shots in my mouth or gives me a facial. Again I don't push the issue, I let him make a mess on himself and instead we clean up with whatever clothes is handy on the floor. Once I pull out and lay down beside him he goes to town on my ear, driving me crazy while I try to reach climax. His tongue is pure magic; heightening my bliss moments later.
In the morning we're woken by the phone. Chris decides to get up and leavs early, avoiding my mom because we are still shy about things like our parents knowing when we have sex.
I'm eating toast when my mom makes her way to the kitchen shortly after Chris leaves, "I'll tell you what. You boys take the upstairs rooms, I'll take Deanna's room and he has to pay for his share of the groceries. I was looking forward to having a Dining Room. Larry has such a nice table and credenza. It reminds me of my mother's table; real solid wood, not this mack-tack job you're eating off of now."
I know my mom means Tim but I play dumb, "Chris isn't moving in yet! We're only dating for now, but thanks."
She shoots me a look, "You're funny. And we're not going to discuss last night. All you mother needs to know is that you're not getting a girl pregnant and that you keep condoms in that tin with your pot. Yes, I know. Now, as I was saying, I just got off the phone with Mrs. Matthews, and we've agreed to let Tim stay for the school year. But he has to follow our rules, not just mine but Larry's, and he has to keep up in school."
I can't hide my joy, "Awesome! You're the greatest! Wait, his mom called you?"
She answers, "No, he called you. I answered and talked to him for a few minutes and then Larry and I talked with his parents for the last half an hour. I'm only doing this because I'm going down to one job and will have more time around the house. We're visiting them the end of August and will collect him then."
"When are you going to quit at the liquor store," I ask, knowing that's the job she'll ditch of her two.
She doesn't hesitate, clearly there has been thought and discussion put into this between her and Larry, "We were thinking after Labour day. I get a lot of time and a half covering over the summer months and that can help pay for a car at first."
I'm kinda proud of my mom, like a parent would be for their kids, "You're still getting a car? Wow, so much will be different by the end of the summer."
Her eyes glaze over, like she can finally see daylight at the end of the tunnel, "More than your Ma can handle for sure. I was never made to handle this all on my own. I don't know how to. I've been so busy all the time scrambling from one thing to another that somewhere along the line I plum forgot that I can't do it. But I don't want to do it ever again. I want to finally be comfortable."
I'm curious, "Are you guys going to get married?"
She nods her head, "You'll probably marry first Jonny. I'm sure it'll be legal for you before we get married. We're just happy taking things as they are. We've been married. I go to church every week. You can't make a more honest woman out of me than I already am. But I don't think re-marrying is right for either of us. Maybe we're both afraid of it again. Not the commitment, but the outcome. We both lost something. I lost someone. I don't know that it's right to give up your father's name. He was a good man. He didn't leave me, he was taken from me."
Hmm. On one hand I can see her as vulnerable, on the other she's always had to be tough. Yet at some point I think it stopped being an act and she did become hardened. I'm happy for her that she's finding happiness and stability, and that Larry is such a good guy. Heck, I'm happy that she's accepted me more or less and hasn't rejected me.
I'm bouncing in my seat, my toast forgotten. She winks at me, "You can go call Tim now, he's expecting you to."
I hug her, "Thanks Ma! I love you!"
When I get off the phone with Tim I hop on the computer and fire off an email to poor Duncan in Vancouver who is becoming my full-time therapist. He's the only one that knows the full extent of everything; the only person who knows the full truth from my heart, not the spin my mind would like to put on it all. In fact, he is the only person that knows the truth about everything, period. He knows how fractured everything is. He knows how torn I am. Being a stranger made it easy for me to open myself to him. He can't impact my life here, thousands of miles away in a different country. He's possibly the best friend I have because more so than Tim, and even Chris, he is the confident that I haven't had since Daniel. I have given him the most honesty I have to offer.
Maybe I should consider Duncan as a good friend, not just an online therapist. I'll tell him as much when we next chat, although that's getting hard lately while he and his brother are spending a month on vacation with family in Scotland. I can't wait until he's back. I'll tell him I consider him a good friend and hope to hell that he doesn't turn around and say that I'm fucked and we're hardly friends. I just hope he's ready for the latest bouts of `shit happens' in my life that I have to share.
[to be continued]
Note to the reader: I have a couple shameless plugs to throw in here. First, along the way you may have clued into the fact that I LOVE the band Europe. They have a new CD released 09/09/09 called Last Look at Eden. It kicks serious ass and is bound to do well in the European charts, but in North America chances are it won't get any air play. If you're a fan of rock (hard / melodic / any) you really should give this a CD a listen. Second, for those that can; I'm sure donations to Nifty are always welcome.