Michaels Secret Love

By moc.loa@KS96nitsuJ

Published on Apr 14, 2000

Gay

Michael's Secret Love Chapter 4 4/10/00

Written by: Justin Case ---------

Disclaimer: This story is about gay sex. If it is illegal for you to read the graphic details, you should exit the site. (Or you could just skip over them) If this story offends you, too bad. Get over yourself. This story is fiction, pure fiction. I know, I wrote it. The school name is the only thing that actually exists; the rest are snapshots from my mind. Any similarity to actual persons, places, or events is either coincidental, or I am psychic.


Words from our author: Hey, you know; I just figured out, some of you actually like this part best. I have a few of you that comment solely on my soapbox. One reader follows it better than the story. Hehe:) wants me to read Dostoevsky again not on your life. Then I have someone trying to figure out who I am. He went to Bonnie Eagle High, I have him convinced I did too. Ya never know. Any hoo there was the reader, only one, that said he will no longer be joining me. He felt my work was redundant. He felt I repeated myself too much. He felt I said the same thing over and over. He felt... enough, I got the point. Hehe. Well, you know what? He was right. Hey what can I say?

On a serious note, I have heard from hundreds of you in the short time since I've been here, not even a month. You are all tremendous. I wish we could all live together. Ours would be a happy community, one with kindred spirits. There would be a lot of sex going on too. Some of us seem to be real horny.

I have one reader who checks in daily on my underwear. He always wants to know what kind I wear, so I lie to him. Hehe. If you could just see the IM's I get. One guy wants to take me to some writing convention. I told him I was too poor, and couldn't afford to go. He said his "friend" would pay. He said the last convention had 20,000 people. Must have had it at Dodgers Stadium or someplace. He was just too friendly, if you catch my drift.

I love you all. I love to hear from you, each and every one of you, and that means you, Matt. You are never a bother. Just lighten up on yourself. So if you like what you see, or you don't, you can e-mail me at Justin69SK@aol.com

A very special thanks goes out to Ed, my editor, these dealines are hell aren't they! ---------

My parents were both seated at the dining room table, Dad's table. The dining room table was centered in the dining room. It was a large oval, dark oak table. It had two leaves and could fit twelve comfortably when expanded. That was the case twice a year at the Martin household. Christmas and Easter, both sets of the Grandparents trucked up to Maine from Massachusetts. It was a family tradition, one that I loved. We were joined by my Dad's brother Jerry and his family, they were always joyous times. I really enjoyed my three cousins, Patrick, Dwane, and Eric. I liked Eric the best. My Uncle Jerry and his band of five were always the life of the party. Jerry and his gang hailed from the great white north, Quebec.

The dining room was a formal room. It had a huge hutch that matched the table. Mom kept the china there and her little glass menagerie of elephants in it too. Every time we would travel, Mom would bring home a new figure. On the two holidays she would turn the lights on inside the hutch, to show off her collection. The hutch was situated against the back wall of the room. It was the focal point as you entered the dining room, behind the table. To the right of the board of celebration was the buffet, the bar. Dad kept his liquor collection there. Every time we traveled he would pick up a bottle of something. His little glass collection was a little more useful than the elephants. He always opened up the buffet when we had the gatherings and showed off his collection too.

We sat at the table, the three of us. I looked up from my place, and told my parents the good news. They were both happy for me. My Mom couldn't say enough. My Dad tried to say something, but Mom kept interrupting him. Poor Dad couldn't get a word in sideways.

After dinner, I took up harbor in my room. I had to call Eugene. I had to reach out to him. I still couldn't remember why I hated him. I felt hurt for him. I needed to share my feelings with him. I picked up my phone and grabbed my address book off the nightstand. I looked Eugene's name up. It was under "E". I used to keep my addresses under last names. The only problem I had with that is I often forgot acquaintances' last names. I always say, an address book is no good if you can't find the addresses.

Just as I began to dial the phone, there was a knock at my bedroom door. I placed the phone in the receiver. I opened my door. I couldn't believe it there he stood. Eugene. Right there in my house, and at my bedroom door. Eugene had not been in my house since, since I was like ten. Oh, my God, I couldn't believe it, he stood right there in front of me.

"Can I come in?" Eugene asked, as he focused on my face with his brown eyes.

Eugene was really a cutey patootie, if you know what I mean. He always seemed to smile. He had these nice features about him. His hair was brown as his eyes. He had real curly hair and wore it like Caesar. His was a slight build, but well defined. He stood five foot six, and probably only weighed a hundred and fifteen pounds. He always dressed preppie, never rave.

He had on a pair of khaki Dockers and an OP button up; short sleeve aquamarine colored shirt. He was wearing penny loafers, brown, and no socks.

I still couldn't remember why I had the feelings of hate for him.

"Of course, I'm sorry, Eugene." I reached my right hand to his, and gently pulled him into my domain.

"I hope I'm not interrupting you, or not a bother," Eugene squeezed out as he came in and closed the door.

"No, no, not at all, I was just going to call you. "Look here at my address book, I have it opened to the page you're on," I said, defending my good manners.

"Michael, I know you don't like me. Ever since that time when we were little," Eugene said.

What time? What happened? I searched and searched my mind and drew a blank.

Why did I hate this boy so much, and for so long? He wasn't a threat. Hell, he was standing right here in my room and I had different feelings for him as we stood facing one another. What were they? I couldn't define my feelings, I would have to wait until after he left.

"I'm glad to see you, Eugene, I mean it. How are you?" I said with all sincerity. I felt so damn guilty. I hated this guy for so long, couldn't remember why. As he stood there I couldn't get a handle on my feelings. What was it? What was bothering me?

"Do you mind if we sit? I mean this could take me some time," Eugene asked, still looking into my eyes with his. He had a poker face the entire time. I couldn't imagine why he had come.

"No, sure, sit," I managed to let out, between my thoughts.

"I feel terrible, Michael, I was so embarrassed this afternoon. I had to talk to you. I had to tell you what happened to me, it's been eating me alive for quite some time," Eugene said with all the seriousness a sixteen-year-old could have.

"Gee, Eugene, it was only a few hours ago," I said, dumbfounded by his description of time.

"No, that's not what I mean. What I have to say is, its... it's been like... it's been, well, it's like. Oh, I am so sorry, I have tried to hate you, and will them away," Eugene said to me, with the sounds of despair.

I sat there on my bed while he sat on my beanbag. I wondered what he was trying to say. I wondered if he was.... No, couldn't be.

"Its just that ever since we slept in your tent, when we were ten. That night in your back yard, just you, James, and I. I shouldn't have done it," Eugene stated with purpose.

What, What did he do? I couldn't remember. It had to have been bad, James and I had disliked this boy for so long. I had to wait patiently for him to spill. I kept my eyes glued to his. He was intriguing me. I was noticing his looks and finding him quite attractive. He was watching me as I kept my eyes on him.

"Look, I know you will never forgive me. I just wanted you to know, I couldn't sing this afternoon. I want you to like me. I want to be your friend again." Eugene began to cry.

What the fuck had he done that he felt so bad about? I was totally confused. He offered no help. I couldn't exactly ask because it would show how shallow I really was. I had very few friends, and was willing to hate this boy for something that was so worthless I couldn't even remember why.

I reached my hands to him. I wanted to comfort him. It was the second time today I had seen Eugene cry. I felt worse now than I had in the auditorium. I felt like a self-centered jerk. I had this fellow human being sitting here with me, and I hadn't given him so much as a nod in years. I was a terrible person. I began to tear up.

"Eugene, I don't know what to say. I really don't. I want to be friends again. I want you in my life, and I want to share good times and bad with you. Like we used to, hell, it won't be long and we'll graduate and go our separate ways," came out of me, from the depths of my soul.

My phone rang. We both jumped. I looked at the phone, and knew it was my James.

"I bet that's James, he always calls after dinner," I said to Eugene. He had stopped crying. He sat there in the bean bag chair and looked off into space. I kept my watchful eyes on him.

"Hello, good looking. How's it hanging?" I joked into the phone.

"Hello, this is AT&T calling. Who do you use for your long distance carrier?" the practiced speech came to my ear.

Click, I hung the phone up. Brringgg, Brrinngg, the phone rang out again.

"Hey, damn you, I am not interested," I shouted into the mouthpiece.

"Well, sir, we have a special savings plan," came the rehearsed script.

"No, thank you. Got to go now, bye." I hung the phone up again.

I sat there and looked at Eugene, and just wondered.


Hey, I'm tired, and my feeble attempt at the cliffhanger is here. I promise I will get better. I still see the redundancies. Have to work on those. Hey, that's why I have my Ed, he's the best. Well e-mail if you like, and if you don't Justin69SK@aol.com

I may take a little time off. Don't worry, I have chapters of the other stories written, so you shouldn't miss me. Have to clear my head, have to work on my novel. Keep the communication coming, and yourselves. Hehe. :)

Next: Chapter 5


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