Disclaimer: I spoke to someone the other day who said that disclaimers were annoying and shit, so I'll make this short and sweet.
This story is the sequel for Raven Hair,' found in the High School' section of the `Gay Male' part of Nifty. It's a good story, and I'd advise you to read it, if you want to get the full perspective of this story. This story has the same things. Gay sex, lots of love, misery, and everything else that comes with the "Aaron Levitt" style. You don't like it? Get away! You do like it? Enjoy!
Chapter 1:
The fuzzy image of Zachary Hanson's throbbing dick being sucked into my mouth was broken up as the sun shone down hard on my eyes, even visible through my eye mask. I lay in bed, the thin gray sheet pulled tight around my body, and contemplated whether to remove the eye mask and check the clock to see what time it was or roll over and try to get some more sleep.
The decision was made for me a few seconds later, when Ice, my cat, noticed that I was stirring and began to persistently meow. Unable to do much about it now, I reached up, pulled off the eye mask and addressed the digital clock on the coffee table beside my bed, which acted as a desk and, for the past few weeks, a bookshelf.
It read: 6:15 am
Groaning with both annoyance and misery, I dragged myself out of bed, shedding my boxers and tossing them in the general vicinity of the laundry basket, in the corner of the room, and headed toward the bathroom.
Standing naked before the medicine cabinet mirror, clouded over with mildew, I stared at my facial reflection. As usual, I wasn't happy with what I saw. My nose was red and shiny, from overactive oil glands, my hair was pointing in every direction, and the beard stubble on my face was really beginning to show now. I hopped quickly into the shower, painfully banging my shin on the ledge of the dirty bathtub, and proceeded to shower, using the thin sliver of soap I had left.
After washing myself and shaving, I emerged from the shower, cleaner and bleeding from various parts of my face.
Why am I too lazy to shave outside of the shower, like maybe where there's a mirror? I dunno. I'm just a lazy motherfucker, I guess.
Oh, by the way...My name is David Levine. You might remember me from such stories as Raven Hair' and...well...That's it, really. Raven Hair' was a story about my childhood love, Aaron Sternzus, and how we met, going from 1994 to 2000. Basically, we were both starting high school. Me, a fat, paranoid loser who had way too little self-esteem to be consider healthy, and him, a shy, long-haired, white-skinned recluse, who avoided contact with most people. Aaron had these piercing green eyes, long raven-black hair, and braces on his teeth. He stood about 5'7" and was of an average, slightly pudgy, build. Aaron was beautiful, in my opinion. Utterly and totally breathtaking. Aaron...Aar...Light of life...Fire of my loins...My sin...My soul. Yep, Lolita didn't have nothing on my Aaron.
Anyway, through various encounters throughout the opening weeks of school, we gradually became friends. Then, one night, after a romp in my grandmother's pool, he slept over and we gave each other a blowjob. It was fun. Our relationship sort of just went up from there. We got together for more sexual contact, and eventually decided to switch schools together.
Big mistake.
Soon after changing schools, Aaron fell in love briefly, very briefly mind you, with a young boy named Mike. It made me miserable to no end, so, in sadness, I left Montreal, Quebec, where I had grown up, and moved to my father's house in Surrey, British Columbia. Surrey was a really podunk place and not the best place to live, but I was away from Aaron and living with my father and step-mother.
The remainder of my time in BC was something I'd like to forget, though, so I'll just say that, after some psychological problems and a brief fling with a boy with an aggressiveness issue named Sean, I returned to Montreal again, a miserable and panic-striken 17-year-old.
Upon my return, I found it difficult to go to school. I was afflicted by anxiety and panic, so I dropped out. In my misery I decided to, for some reason or another, call up Aaron and see what he was up to. I discovered that he had actually missed me and decided that he wanted to make amends. We became boyfriends and decided to move to Calgary together. And so we did.
Things in Calgary were pretty good, actually. Aaron and I found a cheap place to live and we both found work. Things were looking up for us, as a couple. Calgary wasn't exactly easy on us, being a religious city in a bible-thumping province that didn't approve of gay relations too much, but it didn't phase us. Bills were kind of high, but with both of us working, we could manage to make ends meet.
Then on August twentieth, 2000, Aaron left work during the late evening and was walking across the street from the Calgary Tower, when some drunk driving bastard smacked into him. The force of the blow shot him quite a distance down the street, and nobody called me until he was in the hospital and as stable as they could make him.
I sat with him all night, until about two in the morning, on the twenty-first, when he died of severe internal bleeding, which nobody could stop. I wasn't sad at first. Even when I got back to our apartment, and started packing up his things, I was still feeling more empty, than sad.
Without Aaron, I couldn't afford to stay in Calgary, so, for the second time in my life, I left the west and departed back east again, to Montreal, Quebec. My mother, as expected, didn't take me back in to her home, so I went to live in a whorehouse for 3 months. 3 months of sitting alone in a room, moping, crying and listening to people have sex. The owner was probably wondering what I was doing, living in the whorehouse, when nobody stayed there longer than one night. Finally, I found an apartment. It was a 3 and a half room flat, which was kind of nice, but I promptly messed it up. I bought a cat and two rats, which soon turned into a cat and 12 rats. I let the babies out into the streets, where I assume they survived, because there's a huge rat problem going on in the streets now. Sad, but not my problem.
So, in the end, it was the end of December and I was set to start Vanier College in February. I had a feeling that I could do it, this time, since I really had no other choice. My main concerns were the bills, most of which were overdue, and the fact that I couldn't collect Welfare anymore, once I started going to school. I needed to find a job, but no luck there. My mother agreed to help pay for school, the fucking bitch, and my father said he'd give me something too, but we'll see what that lying bastard does.
Anyway, back to the story...
From the bathroom, I made my way into the small bedroom, naked and wet, to get dressed and go out, like I did every day, and try to find work.
But this day was going to be different than every other day....
And I'll tell you about that in a bit....