Disclaimer: Okay, here's the thing. Hmm... How can I word this delicately? You have entered a gay fiction site. Now, whether you stumbled here by mistake (which is a total and complete mystery to me by the way and if you are one of these people, I'd really appreciate you dropping me a line and telling me how it happened. I'm curious, what can I say?) or are here of your own free will, is something I don't know. But you do. So.... (drumroll, please) this is how the tune goes, people. If you're under 18 blah blah blah or are offended by homosexual fiction blah blah, you know the drill because it's a tired one and it's been done before. If you are a homophobe and you're looking to change your ways, then by all means, come in and join the party. So feel free. Later kidlets.
Running Scared Chapter Four By Brennan Jobse
Have you ever been in Vancouver the morning after a storm? Sometimes it gets all gray and cloudy and nasty outside and you feel like garbage. But every once in a while, you get these glorious after-storm mornings, where the sun shines bright yellow and there's a little wind blowing around and the birds are chirping especially early. It's breathtaking.
That first morning with Austin was one of the latter. The sun streamed through the windows and stirred me from my sleep. I blinked awake and saw that I had moved since I fell asleep. I was laying with my back against Austin's chest and his arms were around my ribs. His cheek was next to mine and I could smell his shampoo. I inhaled deeply. I could have stayed there forever.
Unfortunately, the male anatomy system is not meant for that kind of thing. I really, really had to pee. I wriggled out from his embrace and padded down the hall to the bathroom. I thought about what I would tell and be told today. The morning after is the big thing. It's one thing to say something in the throes of passion. It's a whole different issue to mean it in the daylight. Truth be known, I was worried. What if he wasn't really gay? What if he was just experimenting? What if he just wanted to get laid? Even more scary, what if he meant everything he said?
When I came back, Austin was fidgeting in his sleep. It looked like he was waking up. I got back under the covers as his eyes opened.
"Hi," he said in one of those super-quiet 'I just woke up' voices. I searched his eyes. I'm not quite sure what I was looking for. Regret? Disgust? Revulsion? Whatever it was, I didn't find it. I saw something else. It looked vaguely familiar, but try as I may, I couldn't put my finger on it.
"Hi," I said back, in a voice of my own. I was suddenly very unsure of myself. Now what?
Austin smiled and kissed my lips gently. "How'd you sleep?"
The kiss surprised me and for a second, I stared blankly. "Fine," I managed at last. Great, Ben. Brilliant conversationalist.
"What's wrong?" Austin asked, losing the smile. Then fear registered in his sapphire eyes. "You're not sorry about last night, are you?"
"No," I answered adamantly, then immediately felt ridiculous for saying it with so much conviction. What if he didn't feel the same way?
He smiled and looked relieved. "Me neither."
I felt a lot better after that. We got dressed and hung around the house that day. It was nice. We just sat and watched Saturday morning cartoons, pausing for the occasional food trek. We were sitting on the couch, cuddled up under one blanket, with Austin lying with his head in my lap, turned toward the TV. I twirled his hair in between my fingers periodically as we watched Scooby and Shaggy chase ghosts. It was soft, like down.
"I better be going," he said around four. "My parents are going to be home in an hour and I should be there."
"Okay," I said slowly. I was sad to see him go. I would have much rather have watched cartoons with that boy long into the evening. But it was probably for the best. My dad would be home from his business trip, or wherever the hell he was, in an hour. And if there was one thing, I didn't want to happen, it was for Austin to meet my dad. Ever. I walked him to the door and waited while he put his shoes on.
He straightened up and shoved his hands into his pockets. "So, umm, can I call you?" he asked nervously.
"I'd like that," I replied, nodding.
He let out a small breath. "Great," he smiled. He stood there for about a second, then leaned towards me and kissed me on the cheek. "Bye, Ben," he said shyly and was out the door.
I watched him walk across my lawn and down the street until he was out of sight. I didn't even know I was smiling until I turned away. What was going on here? I had moped around for almost two and a half weeks now and one night with Austin merits a complete 180? I shrugged and decided I didn't care. I was happy.
My dad came home (turns out he WAS on business) and complained about supper and his job, but it didn't bother me. None of it. Not even when he asked how I intended to get my faggot ass back into soccer. I just rolled with the punches (figuratively speaking, there was no fight that night) and excused myself to my room as quickly as possible. I wanted to get my homework done so I could talk if Austin called.
I looked at myself in the mirror and studied my reflection. How come he liked me? I was so... average. Dirty blond hair, hazel eyes, tanned skin from playing soccer outside so often. I couldn't figure it out. But, hey, who was I to argue? He liked me!
I rushed through my homework and waited for Austin to call me. I dug out a book, Flowers in the Attic, and read while I waited. Around eight, the phone rang and I picked it up before my dad could hear it and get it himself.
"Hello?"
"Hey, baby. I missed you," came Austin's voice. I could hear him smiling. He was so corny.
"Did you now?" I asked with a smile of my own. What was up with me? I couldn't stop grinning.
"Yep. So I think you should come over and hang out with me."
"I don't know, Austin..." Shit. I knew it was too good to be true. I'd have to say no, we'd have a fight, and it would be over just like that. I could see it coming.
"It would make me really... really happy... to see you again," he said coyly. I tried to suppress the growing urge to go ask my dad, but it was no use. "Please?" he asked in a little boy voice.
"Alright, alright, alright. Hang on a sec." I put the phone down on my bed and ventured to my dad's office to ask him. I wasn't a big believer in God, but I made a quick prayer outside the door anyway. I knocked.
"Enter."
I opened the door and it creaked as I did. My dad sat at his desk, reading glasses on, and he had an almost surprised look on his face. "Sir," I began, "may I go to a friend's house to work on a project?" C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, I begged silently.
He narrowed his eyes at me. "Who?"
"Austin Albrecht, sir."
"Albrecht, Albrecht. He's not that little fag boy that moved to your school a few weeks ago is, he?"
I felt like he slapped me. "No, he's not," I stammered.
"If I find out you're associating with fags..." His eyes flashed with warning.
"I'm not." I shoved my hands into my pockets to keep them from trembling so bad. C'mon, just say yes and let me leave.
He looked back to his book. "Be home in an hour."
"Thank you, sir," I said, and closed the door. I flew back to my room and picked up the phone. "Austin?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm on my way."
I didn't even have time to ring the doorbell before Austin grabbed me by the front of my shirt and pulled me through the door. He kissed me hard on the mouth and it took me by surprise. So much, in fact, that I kind of just stood there.
He stepped back and whistled low. "I feel MUCH better," he smiled.
"I'm glad," I said. I was kind of at a loss for words. He just kissed me in the doorway, for God's sakes! Where anyone could see us. Where his parents could see us. I wondered if his family knew about him, about us.
"Oh, Austin! Is this your little friend?" a voice came from the next room. A huge carbon copy of Austin came and took my face in his hands like girls do to small animals. "He's darling."
Austin laughed and batted the man's hands off my face. "Piss off, Michael. He's not used to people like you, yet."
"I'm TERRIBLY sorry, Austin. It's just he's so cute. I always did admire your taste," he apologized and I thought I detected a little flamer accent in his voice. He slapped my cheek lightly and grinned. "What's your name, kid?" he asked, all traces of the accent gone.
"B-B-Ben," I stammered. I felt like I was going to pass out. Oh, they definitely knew.
"Well, B-B-Ben, I'm Michael, Austin's brother," he said, grinning and held out a hand for me to shake.
I took his hand and he shook mine firmly. "Hi," I squeaked.
"Thank you, Michael, now that's you've thoroughly enjoyed my friend's discomfort, we're going to go listen to music now," Austin said placidly, pulling me away from his brother and up the stairs.
"Wait a second," he said sternly. "Do mom and dad know you have a boy upstairs?" Austin smiled to himself and kept walking. "You leave the door open a crack and try to keep it down, alright?" he called with a grin as we reached the top of the stairs. WHAT?!?
Austin closed his door on purpose and with a smile, and kissed me again, softer than downstairs. My mind was still reeling. Michael knew? Who else knew? Did his parents know? Did they know we had sex?
"What's wrong, Ben?" he asked.
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I tried again. "You told your family?" It came out as statement, rather than a question.
"About what?"
"About us."
He looked confused. "I didn't tell them a thing."
"Well, what the hell was that thing with your brother?" I waved my hands frustratedly toward the door. "How did he know?"
He smiled and put his hands on my shoulders to calm me down. "Ben, Ben, he doesn't know anything."
Now it was my turn to look confused. "What?"
"Michael doesn't know about us. That's just the way he is. He likes to do that to my friends. Likes to get a rise out of them. Thinks it's funny to play on people's insecure sexualities," Austin explained. I stared, open-mouthed. "He's messed up," he offered, shrugging his shoulders.
"Is he gay?"
"No, just stupid," he smiled. "But," he said, sliding his hands down my sides and pulling me close, "I have you, here, in my bedroom. The last thing I want to do, is talk about my brother."
"Is that so?" I asked quietly, now that I had calmed down a bit. "And what, pray tell, would you like to do?"
He ignored me and pressed his lips against mine. We made our way over to his bed and made out for a good half hour. After that, we just laid there listening to the radio in a comfortable silence until I had to go home. I was leaning against his chest between his legs and every so often he would kiss the top of my head lightly. I was reluctant to leave, but I knew if I didn't there was no way I'd be allowed back. I'd probably be in a hospital somewhere. I started to get up and Austin's arms tightened around my stomach.
"Where do you think you're going?"
I smiled. "Home. My dad wants me back in fifteen minutes."
His face fell a little. "Oh. Okay." He let me up and walked me to the door. He cocked his head to the side a little as a thought occurred to him. "Are you gonna tell Aaron?"
Aaron. Shit. With all that had happened in the last two days, I had forgotten all about him. The scene in the park came flooding back to me in a rush of memories. I really needed to talk to him. "Actually," I said sheepishly, "Aaron already knows about me."
"Oh," he said with a surprised expression on his face. "Are you gonna tell him about us?"
"Not if you don't want me to."
He thought for a second. "I think you should tell him."
I took hold of his fingers. "Are you sure?"
He nodded, but still looked a little nervous. "Yeah. I'm sure."
I turned to leave and then stopped. "Where's your family?" I asked him, turning around.
"In bed. Why?"
I saw this as my chance and kissed him for a long moment. It was sweet, pure. When I pulled back, his expression had brightened considerably. His eyes were still closed though. He did that a lot. I patted him on the cheek and smiled. "Goodnight, Austin."
His eyes opened like he was waking up and he smiled thoughtfully. "'Night, Ben," he whispered.
I left that house that night, basically skipping home. Life was good! I felt like screaming my heart out that the most beautiful boy in the world liked me. Me! Regular, plain, average, old Ben Ghallager. It was enough to keep me buzzing for most of the night with excitement.
On Sunday, my dad and I went to that superfascist house of hate mongrels. And guess what immoral topic the Rev focused on this week? Homosexuality. It was all I could do to keep quiet and not let him in on every little detail of my weekend thus far. It was like a mosquito buzzing by your ear and hovering there.
"Society has turned a blind eye to the ludicrous perversions of homosexuals!"
Bzzzzzzzzzzzz...
"Did you know in high schools across the nation, there are homosexual 'support groups'? Do you really want these Things near your children?"
Bzzzzzzzzzzz...
"Only through God can you strengthen your will and that of your children against Them!"
BZZZZZZZZ....
I honestly never thought I'd get out of that place with my sanity. But I did, and as soon as I was done my chores, I went to Aaron's house. It was only four o clock, but the sky was already dark. It looked like another thunder storm was coming up. That's weather in Vancouver for you. I started to walk up the cobblestone pathway to Aaron's house, then stopped and went into the backyard. There was Aaron, sitting on the picnic table underneath the roof of his veranda, puffing away on a smoke.
I walked over to the table and sat down on it. "Hey."
I thought he'd look surprised to see me. But he didn't even bat an eye. He just looked at me, then turned his head forward again and ground out his cigarette into an ashtray. "Hey," he repeated, lighting up another. The ashtray he was using had something like a pack's worth of butts in it already. Shit. You know how some people bite their nails or tap their foot up and down when they're nervous or anxious? Well, Aaron chain-smoked.
"So," I said awkwardly, breaking the silence that hung in the damp air. The rain fell from the sky in big fat drops and splattered on the concrete walkway on the ground.
He didn't say anything. Just sucked in a long drag from his smoke and tapped half of it into the ashtray. Two smaller drags and it was done. He ground it out and pulled another one from his pocket. With a flick of the lighter, he lit it and started it over again.
"You're mad," I said stupidly. I didn't care. I had to say something. The silence was killing me.
"We all go a little mad sometimes," he replied evasively, staring out into the rain. Then he sighed. "No, I'm not mad. I'm worried. What's with you lately?" He took a quick puff from the cigarette and looked at me questioningly.
"I don't know. It's just... It was just the whole thing with Austin and school and my dad... I just didn't want to tell you about it, I guess..." I trailed off. That was a lie, but a necessary one. Besides, it set the stage for what I really wanted to tell Aaron.
He was quiet for a while. Then, "What made you change your mind?"
I smiled. "Well, Austin came over on Friday night..." I told him what happened (leaving out a few rather, uh, graphic details), starting at when Austin found me plastered at my house that night, to the time I spent at his house last night. By the time I had finished, Aaron had long since put out his cigarette and was staring at me open-mouthed, with a grin slowly forming.
"You and Austin? No way!" he exclaimed in smiling disbelief.
"Yep. Me and Austin," I confirmed with a proud nod.
"Finally!" he exclaimed in exaggerated exasperation. "It's about damn time you got a break! Austin's a good guy. You deserve someone good." His grin covered his whole face and could have rivaled mine just then.
I laughed. It was so good to have things back the way they were supposed to be. "I'm glad you approve," I said, punching him lightly in the shoulder. I pretended it wasn't a big deal what he said, but deep down inside, I valued his opinion more than gold.
He punched me back and laughed too. "Damn right."
"So, how's what's her name, Amy?" I asked.
Aaron sighed and smiled. "She's... great. I've never met anybody like her in my whole life, Ben. It's like..." He stopped when he saw the smile on my face. "What?"
I shrugged my shoulders and lost the smile as best I could, which wasn't saying much. "Nothing."
He gave me a funny look, sort of a half-glare half smile. "You're an odd one, you know that?"
We talked about our lives for a while, caught up from the month we'd missed out on. By the time I rose to leave, the rain had stopped, at least for the time being. "Soccer tomorrow, right?" I asked, getting up from the table.
He gave me a surprised look. "You're gonna try and get back on?"
"Give it my best shot."
A smile broke out on Aaron's face. "I'm glad you're back, man," he said, sincerely.
"Me too, bro, me too." Was I ever.
Brennan's Ramblings: Okay, here's the thing. I seem to have run head first into this wall. Don't laugh. It's painful. Anyhoo, what I'm trying to get at is, this ain't one of my fav chapters. But I'm in a transitional phase with the story right now, so hang in there, people. As always, I LOVE IT when you send me emails (hint, hint). bjobse414@hotmail.com And, hey, guess what, guys? It's Gay and Lesbian Pride Month! Did you guys know that? I didn't know that. So, in remembrance of the greats (Harvey Milk and Matthew Shepherd to name a few) I would like to wish everyone a Happy Gay and Lesbian Pride Month!!!
The Recs: Okay, boys and girls! Today's recommendation is..... Jason and Taylor in the Gay College Section of Nifty. This one's a finished story, too. The last chapter was posted on Feb 14, 1999, if I'm not mistaken. It might be 2000, I can't remember. I really do have good taste, you know. I'd never lead you guys astray. But this one's a tear-jerker. You've been warned. :) Enjoy!