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This is a story of two guys in love with each other and their personal discovery. You've found this site like the rest of us so the assumption is that material of this nature does not offend you. If it does, or it is illegal for you to view this content for whatever the reason, please wipe your hard drive clean and maybe use a disinfectant or sanitizer on your keyboard for good measure!
This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to any person, place, or written works are purely coincidental. Especially the addresses thrown out in the last chapter. For those that asked, your answer is no, I don't live at one of them. And to answer another question, Jon is not really me. The real me however retains all rights to this story. I also request that in any use of this story that my rights are respected. Do not copy or use this story in any manner without my permission.
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In the Shadows of Our Lives -- Prologue -- Spirit of the Underdog III
"Let yourself in Jon. I'll be with you in a minute," I answered to Jon's knock at the door.
Jon had just stepped inside the front landing of the house, three steps down from the main floor, but with a view straight down the very hallway that I had to go through to get down and across to my room. I could hear the screen door snap shut. If only I hadn't wasted time and gone online to ahem, `check my email' before my shower! Currently my problem was that I was wrapped in a towel and hoping to hide a raging woody, and trying to avoid him seeing me at all as I scooted down the hall and into my room.
With only a towel around my waist, I repeated the offer, "Just let yourself in man. Kick off your shoes and grab a seat on the couch and I'll be right out. O.K?"
Not taking the bait and thereby giving me a clear path to my room out of his eyesight, he said, "Nah dude. I'm not real comfortable with that. I'll just wait here till you're like ready."
I remember through my frustration at the situation that it also was the first time it dawned on me that at times Jon sounds a lot like Butters from South Park. Not the voice per se, but the ever-present hesitation in it. But that stray thought didn't help me solve my predicament. So I explained, "Uh, I just had a shower and I still gotta get dressed. O.K?"
"That's cool. Take your time."
I felt too self conscious to ask him to turn around in case he was looking down the hall, even though he had asked me to turn away in the bathroom at Michael's all those weeks ago. I had an internal dilemma because I get woodies in the shower a lot and was sporting a good one at that time. O.K. You got me. Yes, to be honest my hand might have something to do with the woodies I get in the shower. After stripping off the remainder of my football gear, but before streaking through the house into the bathroom, I had gone online and did my thing to the first clip of gay porn I found hidden in a sub-directory of my favourites. Normally that takes care of business, but I guess I was just more sexually frustrated that day than could be taken care of in one quick jerk.
Wishing I at least had a bundle of clothes in my hands to carry in front of me, I wrapped the towel as tight as I could, bunching it up in front. Yeah, something was obvious so I pointed it to the sky and rearranged the towel. That did the trick of masking my state of arousal. I really wished I had the time to go for a second orgasm and hopefully sate my need to get off for a while. Instead I raced out of the bathroom and did a zigzag down the hall and into my room. I slipped with my wet feet on the hardwood floor and almost wiped out, but made it.
In the shower I had decided to dress as casual as I could while still trying to look hot. Trying to be cool and casual I put on my white and silver school-issued Adidas tear-aways with the orange school logo on the front left hip/thigh area and Property of Parkwood across the butt in burgandy. I think my butt and legs look best in those pants, but geez, could my school colours be more happy and friendly? Honestly, wearing burgundy pants and an orange jersey with a white helmet reading Panthers in orange letters on its sides doesn't exactly come across as fearsome for our JV football team. And the silver name and number on our jerseys are like the equivalent of glitter make-up on a girl. We seriously get called pretty by the opposing teams. At least the varsity team is burgundy jerseys with orange names and numbers over silver pants. Even if they suffer with the same helmet in reverse, white letters on an orange helmet, they at least seem more fearsome. Now that I have that uniform I don't want to go back to my JV one when I have to!
I threw on my wife-beater undershirt and then my powder blue Houston Oilers jersey. It's breathable and I was feeling a cold sweat under my arms at the moment, so figured it would help keep me cool. Still, I did put on my only pair of Calvin's because if I had a chance that Jon would see my gitch I wanted them to be my Calvin Klein boxers. My hair is naturally unruly and a bit curly, however I normally spike and mess up the sandy blonde mop so that it looks cool. But as it dried I let it fall flat and curl as it wished instead. Pants, underwear, shirt, I was almost ready. I'd douse myself in cologne if I even had any. Instead I had to settle for slapping on a coating of deodorant. No socks, because I could still get away without smelly shoes from going barefoot in them, and I always preferred barefoot to socks. So about a minute out of the shower I was good to go.
I didn't bother to tidy up the pile of football equipment strewn about the middle of the floor in my room. Varsity guys get their uniform and equipment washed for them. Being a JV call-up I still had to take care of my own stuff. As casually dressed as I could try to be, walking down the hall I invited Jon in. I offered him a soda which he declined. We sat down on opposite ends of the couch, sorta half facing each other but still sorta avoiding actual eye contact.
Jon immediately burst as we sat, "Daniel, I have to say it now cause I won't say it if I make myself wait anymore. I think I'm gay."
Obviously I had guessed that by this point. I certainly had hoped for it so badly. I think I totally figured this out when I woke that night at Michael's party with his hand on me. But then I found reasons and explanations to satisfy myself on the off chance that it wasn't really the case. So while I should have known, I had deluded myself in case I had just been overly hopeful. Yet the important question now was what to do or say. I had a hard time thinking of what was right to say to Jon. I could have said something like O.K.' or that's cool'. Heck, I should have immediately said `I think I am too'. In the end the easy way out was the obvious one; just keep in self denial and all will be well with the world! So I just sorta stared at him. Rather than vocalizing what I felt inside I found silence a lot easier. If you don't put words to thoughts, and don't say those words, then those words can't come back to bite you in the butt I guess.
After a long silence Jon got up. Not like I had a stopwatch on it or anything, but it must have been at least a full minute of us not saying anything. After the immensity of what he had just said a minute of silence is like a lifetime. My heart hurt for him as he tried to be strong.
"I'll leave now. I see I've made another mistake," He quietly said. To this day, I'm not sure if that was said for me or himself. He was getting real choked up, struggling to find his voice.
"I've really put you in a bad position. You know? I'm sorry Daniel. So...so very sorry. It's just, I...I thought, you know...Ah, never mind. I'm sorry," His voice cracked as he spoke. Although visibly shaking, he managed to speak this loud enough for me to hear until his voice ultimately failed him altogether.
I instinctively got up and walked to the door with him. It wasn't my conscious intention, I just found myself doing it. As he was jamming his feet into his shoes I finally snapped out of my trance and broke my silence. "Wait Jon, don't go," I pleaded.
Looking away because he was full-on trying not to cry at this point he rambled, "Yeah right! Humour the fag! No, I think I've totally made a clown of myself and just revealed my secret to a guy that I thought was different enough that I could at least share it with and maybe still be my friend. You're a real nice guy you know Daniel, not like all the jerks. You didn't mention the night at Michael's to anyone, and that means so much. I just really pray that you won't tell anyone about this either. I can't make you do that though. So just forget about me, kay? I'm so sorry I've dumped this on you."
On the outside it looks to people that know me like I am tuff. Maybe it's because at my size not only do I play football with bigger guys, but I'm damn good at it too. Maybe it's that I don't back down to the big guys. Maybe it's that people believe my facade that nothing really bothers me and that I'll do what I want. I don't know. I'll tell you what I do know though. In all honesty I am really such a chicken on the inside. So I really don't know where I got the nerve to do it, because I'm even more cowardly with showing emotion, but I found myself at the door hooking an arm around Jon and almost tackling him back into the house as he was pushing the door open. I saw a flare in his eyes. I guess it was part anger, part surprise, possibly part pain, and definitely part fear. As Jon was getting back up off the stairs that I had knocked him down onto, to re-attempt escape, I closed the front door on him.
I was shouting at first, just to make sure I was getting through. I said, "It's not locked, Jon. You can leave now if you want to, but hear me first. Please? I think I like you! I don't want to suck your dick or anything yet cause I still think that's sorta gross, but I've dreamed about it! A lot. O.K? So we're even. Now you know about me too. Does that make it any better?"
I felt so dirty having said that. Not because I felt particularly embarrassed telling it to a guy that I like, and seems to be available for me. No, instead because it's the natural reaction to homosexuality of everyone around in my life that teaches me it's wrong for guys to like guys. I was burning up in the face, like I had to do a presentation in front of the whole school or something. I sat down on the floor and rested my back against the door. For his part, Jon sat down on the steps I had tackled him onto. We just both stared at the floor in total silence, not making any eye contact. I know the deal; boys don't cry! But that's not fair and also not always true. I am far from a crier, but under the weight of what I just revealed I couldn't help it. We were both trying not to cry, but I found it so emotionally draining to actually tell someone. Now I was feeling fear for if I had made a mistake and if Jon would tell about me!
We waited each other out in silence until my AOL ran out of minutes on me and said "Goodbye!" through the small speakers I have plugged into the computer. Scared into action, Jon got up and reached for the door again, "Dang it! I thought you said you were home alone."
"I am. It was AOL closing itself."
"Huh?"
"I've only got AOL dial up. Mom's not rich. That's why we even live here with my uncle. I went online before my shower and I guess I forgot to sign-off. It's set up to disconnect after twenty minutes of being idle so my minutes don't run out on me. So it signed itself off. It says welcome' and goodbye' when you sign on or off."
"Oh."
After another long silence I offered, "Hey, if were gonna sit here in silence, how about we sit back on the couch again or go to my room."
"Kay. Uh, your room would be cool I guess."
My heart was already racing at this point. When Jon suggested my room it started pounding even harder in my throat. Why did I offer my room? Jon kicked off his shoes again to follow me as I got up off the floor. My room was such a mess. It's actually the master bedroom that I share it with my cousin Todd. His side is always so clean, even when he stays over. My side is usually clean too because my mom nags and nags, but her and Arnie weren't home yet so I hadn't put anything away. I sat on Todd's bed and motioned for Jon to sit on mine.
Jon's eyes kept darting to my football equipment strewn about all over the middle of the floor between us. I could see he was intrigued by all the pieces as his eyes kept returning to my mesh girdle with the tailbone and hipbone pads still in it and my cup. The thought passed through my mind to dress up for him, but I wasn't about to that day. Someday I'll role play for him, if he wanted. Or so I thought at the time as my aching knee steered mind back around to the thawing icepack I left by my computer. If I could have seen the future I would have gone ahead and done it then because the mere thought did have me in an excited state again. But unfortunately I had recently misplaced my crystal ball at the time, whoops!
"How can you be gay Daniel? You are so tuff, even for a small guy. Even the big dumb jocks hate playing against you in gym!"
"Do you hate playing against me?"
"No, never!" He started, a little too enthusiastically. "I mean yeah, but I want to be with you so I push myself real hard so I don't look stupid to you I guess."
Good to know, I thought to myself. I'm a little too aggressive or competitive.
After some more individual introspection Jon asked, "So how do you think, like when did you, you know, know you're...you know?"
He was fishing for the right word. I guess I never committed if I was in for a penny or a pound so he wasn't sure whether to say bi or gay.
I cleared it up for him, "Gay? I don't know Jon. It's like I get fantasies and stuff. Like maybe back in junior high I knew I didn't get nearly as excited for girls as I do for guys. Then it was like I never thought about girls at all. All the guys talk about jerking off and how big their loads are and how many times they do it and stuff. And if you haven't noticed I don't even hardly have any hair yet and stuff so I started thinking of what it must be like; to be like other guys and have lots of hair down there, and be able to get more than friction burn for my efforts. So by grade 8 when I jerked it I just started thinking about guys like Michael or Train who are like way ahead of me. Then in high school I started thinking about hot guys naked, so like maybe Tim or you. Then I got to thinking about touching you and doing stuff with you real bad after we'd have gym class together."
"Me?"
"Um, yeah. In grade 9 I started thinking about you. Yeah, I've had a crush on you for a while. I had the hugest orgasm ever the first time I thought of you with me! I think I almost even had some cum that time. How about you?"
"Uh, I've been cumming for years. I'm not sure how long. I had a hernia when I was younger. The doctors dropped my balls for me because it was either then or another surgery later. So I missed the wet dreams. Like, I had them, but didn't even know it at the time."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah, seriously. All I know for sure is that by the time we were learning about it in school I could already come. I just thought it was normal. As for the other thing? I never liked girls, not like the guys talking about Julia's tits or Helen's Watermelons. I get why they call Julia that behind her back. Tits that is. But Helen? I don't even think hers are big anyhow, they just call her Helen Watermelon because her name is Helen. I do like looking at the guys and the looks on their faces when they talk about it. I even sneak a peak at the tents in their pants when they talk about girls and get turned on. Have you seen Brent Liddle when he walks around in his boxers in the change room and how big he gets? Or like, how big he is in the first place? Who can help but look when he pops out of his boxers when the guys talk about girls and tits?"
Actually I hadn't noticed, "No, to be honest I usually only ever dare look at you if I check any guy out at all there. At school my list mostly consists of just you. I try to guess what underwear you're wearing each day, and really only have once checked out your package because I don't ever want to get caught checking a guy out."
Jon smiled, "Oh really, and which underwear do you like the best?"
"Well you're mostly gray, black and white Hanes boxer briefs; black especially on gym days. I do want to see what that red pair of 2xist look like that you only ever wear outside of school. I see the waistband of them when you shirt rides up and your pants slip down. Like I can see them right now. I swear, I had to study your waistband for so long in Michael's mom's van the night we went to see the re-release of Star Wars I thought for sure I'd get caught! And then I had to look 2xist up on the internet to figure out what they were!"
"So Tim huh? Yeah, he's got to be one of the hottest guys in school, not just our grade. To me too at least."
"Yeah he's looking really good lately. I mean Tim's kinda really hot, but he's so straight and so shy about liking girls that he's not an option. Mention Natalie Walker to him and he gets so red he has to excuse himself," I said. I should have maybe added that if you turned Nat's hair Jon's colour then you had Jon's sister Candace. Candace is a year ahead of us, and I'm pretty sure she's two years older. But it didn't seem right to tell Jon that Tim forgets how to walk, talk and breathe when he sees Candace. He swears he's going to marry her, and he's never even exchanged a word with her yet! Two years of obsessing over her? No, it was not the time to tell Jon that.
That was the meat of our conversation that day. We were so relieved to be talking about it, but we both held back a lot. I couldn't see at the time that Jon was holding off on asking hundreds of questions, but he was, just like I was. The conversation kept changing, only occasionally slipping into any gay topic until we both felt awkward, then it was quickly diverted.
It still seemed pretty early when I heard uncle Arnie's chopper and a few other hogs coming down the street. It was actually nearing 9:00 at night, but that is still really early for him. I jumped up, gave Jon the quickest little hug and raced to the front. I had to open the door before Arnie came up to the house so that he wouldn't think anything was up. Jon took that as his queue to leave. As Arnie entered with a couple of his crew in tow, he put me in a headlock and messed up my hair more than it already was. He said hello to Jon as Jon was fighting with a shoe and saying goodbye to me. As if the company he keeps wouldn't scare the crap out of any kid my age, Arnie gave me a strange look as Jon darted out.
I followed outside barefoot, catching Jon before he could hit the drive way, "Jon, wait up. That was kinda intense. What do you say to going over to Tania's with me? I was supposed to head there with Tim and Neil tonight after the game. I'm sure they're still there. Do you want to come with? It is a Friday night after all. I can probably grab a bottle off my uncle. Waddaya say?"
"Uh, yeah sure. That would alright Daniel."
I said, "O.K. then. Give me a minute to toss my football gear out in the garage and get ready. I'd probably wait out here. Those guys are pretty hardcore. I know them and they still scare the begeezus out of me!"
I went back inside and took my helmet and football pads to the garage and put the rest the washer. After some internal debate I tossed on a pair of socks too. Like I said, I don't prefer them, but I also don't think it's cool going barefoot in someone else's house when they don't. I grabbed my Houston Oilers hat too. My hair was a birds nest and without another shower there was no way I was going to get it to work for me. I also grabbed a partial bottle of Jim Beam from my Mom's supply in the cupboard. Arnie was making his own drink of Old Milwaukee and Wild Turkey. I'm not sure which is the chaser because he and his buds can guzzle both equally well.
Raising an eyebrow to me all he said was, "Thirsty?"
"Dude! It's Friday night and we're late for a party! I kinda don't have time to wait for someone to buy for me at the store."
Arnie took back the half bottle and handed me the full one from behind instead "Here, more to share. But you didn't get it from me. I drank it if your mom asks."
"Thanks Uncle Arn!"
"Yeah, yeah. Now scram!"
Dude, you know it. Some of your friends are actually cool. These guys though? I know some of them are just walking time bombs. These are the guys dad used to hang with when bad things were going down. Why they aren't in prison too is anyone's guess. Who knows, maybe Uncle Arnie is planning on a stay with dad in prison in the near future, although he says he's a lot smarter and doesn't pull the same petty crap dad did. No, Arnie orchestrates big scores that make the papers but never seems to get any heat. Have fun with Killer, Repo, 8-ball, Rick and the rest! By the way, tell Rick to get a cool nickname, and 8-ball to give Z.Z. Top the beard back. Of course that was strictly an inside thought. If I were actually to say it out loud to these guys I would honestly lose control of my bladder.
Conversation was easy with Jon as we headed over to Tania's. I'm sure we were both beating ourselves down inside, both wondering just what damage we had gone and done to our personal security of being fully and completely closeted. Being out, to even just one person was pretty nerve racking. Even if that person was Jon. Even if I was the only person that Jon had outed himself to in turn. It was just really hard to wrap my head around the events of the night.
I wish we had held hands along the way; that would have put me on a cloud. Instead we just walked like two normal teenagers trying to hide a bottle of hooch, taking sips along the way. I had a hard time swallowing it while Jon could put it back with ease. He said it tasted a little sweet. It truly tasted like gasoline to me!
When we got to Tania's, Neil and Tim were there as I had expected. Most Fridays and Saturdays when her parents are using up their Houston Astro's season tickets we crash at her place. The season hadn't started yet so her parents were home watching TGIF on T.V. When Tania answered the door she frowned at the mostly full bottle of Jim Beam and told me to hide it in her mom's flower bush and take it home with me later. She also frowned at Jon, and asked if Michael was coming over too.
As nervous as Jon was in coming out to me an hour or so earlier, he seemed even more nervous around my friends. That was until Tim gave him executive decision on the music. The choice was Britney Spears or Red Hot Chili Peppers. Tania wanted Britney and Neil wanted whatever Tania wanted because he wanted her. Tim wanted Chili Peppers. I just didn't want Britney. Looking through a stack of CD's Jon put The Offspring's Americana into the player instead. I know Tim couldn't stand the song Pretty Fly (for a white guy), and he smiled when Jon skipped it over too and started with The Kids Aren't Alright. I think that smallest of actions won Tim over for Jon.
Neil and Tania were busy sucking face so Jon and I basically visited with Tim while at Tania's. Tim was pretty happy that Michael wasn't with us too. He made a comment but then dropped it because Jon and Michael are best friends. It was clear however that a melding of our friends wasn't going to be happening in the near future.
That night Jon and I were so full of inner angst and emotion that when we all got kicked out by Tania's parents less than an hour after getting there we were fine with it. Tim offered us rides home and I accepted before thinking because my knee still hurt. Jon said he was just a couple blocks away and would walk. He waved as he started for home, taking the bottle of Jim Bean with him. So we didn't even get to kiss that night. Still, I didn't care because I was comforted by the fact that I had snared myself a great boyfriend. The first kiss with his hot lips would be worth the wait!
[to be continued]
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