AUTHOR'S NOTE: The upcoming discussion between Billy and Justin has been very difficult for me to capture. The two do not always agree on who did or said what to whom, or even when. So you will notice that there are clear contradictions from one chapter to the next. I am aware of that and can only hope that when it is laid out this way, perhaps the two of them will remember it more clearly. And perhaps share that with us.
To help you deal with these contradictions, I have shortened the amount of material in each chapter. That will allow me to switch from one viewpoint to the other faster.
I hope you enjoy reading this. It's been a real challenge for the three of us to pull it all together. Let us know what you think.
The Further Adventures of Justin & Billy Chapter 11 From Billy's viewpoint
As soon as I got home from Todd's, I could tell Justin had been cleaning. The dishes were washed and sitting in the drying rack. The cushions on the couch had been straightened. There were no stray clothes lying about. This was not a good sign.
I've never been a clean freak and that has bothered Justin ever since . . . well, since I first started spending most of my time at his parents' house.
Years ago when I told my mother I didn't want her cleaning up my room anymore . . . you know, I just didn't want her finding my stuff . . . I never really did clean. My sheets got washed once every few weeks so they were always caked with my cum. My clothes were wherever I dropped them. I usually only did my laundry when I didn't have anything left to wear.
And no one ever said anything about it much until Justin. Sometimes he'd ask me to help him clean up. That was OK. When he didn't ask and just cleaned up by himself, it usually meant he was pissed at me about something.
So seeing the place cleaned up, I figured Justin was probably pissed because I was so late. I really didn't need any more drama just then. If only he knew the truth about what I'd been doing. Why I was so late.
Before I could gather my thoughts, I heard him turn the water on in the shower. I stood completely still. Not wanting him to realize I'd finally gotten home. I didn't want him to hear me.
I didn't move, or hardly even breath, until I was sure he had gotten in the shower. I could tell by the change in sound the water made as it hit his body.
I gathered my nerve and went silently into the bedroom. Our bedroom. Our bed was stripped of the old sheets and the blanket was neatly folded beside the stacked pillows. I sat on the foot of the bed and buried my face in my hands. I needed to pull myself together.
After a few moments, I remembered a phrase that I began repeating over and over in my mind. "The truth is easier to tell than a lie." Keeping that thought and no other foremost in front of me, I pulled off my shoes and socks. Stood. Unbuttoned my shorts and let them crumple around my ankles.
I cupped my loose hanging nuts in one hand. I could feel the dampness where my ball sac met my thighs. I ran the other hand through my pubes and stroked my cock.
This sounds kinda odd to me just now, but I smelled my hands. There was the musky smell guys get. It can really be a turn-on for me, but just then it only reminded me I needed a shower, too.
That brought my thoughts full circle to Justin and what I had to say. My gut went tight and it was hard to breath. I tried to gather my thoughts, but couldn't. Before too long, I guess I was thinking over and over again, "The truth is easier to tell than a lie."
I stepped out of my shorts that were still gathered around my ankles and I headed toward the bathroom door. As I went, I shed my shirt. Letting it fall to the floor just before I turned the knob and went into the bathroom . . . and to Justin and my future. I was completely naked. Completely vulnerable.
I stood and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked awful. I looked worse than I actually felt. My eyes were still puffy and red from crying. I ran the cold water and splashed some on my face.
Then I turned to the shower. I could see Justin's body through the fogged glass door. I could see him standing in profile to me. He had to know I was there, but he hadn't said a word. Probably because he was distracted. I could pretty well see that he was jerking off. I'd seen him leaning against the shower wall that way often enough before. His hands free to explore and pleasure his body and cock.
And there he was. Working his long, hard cock as though I wasn't there. As though I didn't matter. As conflicted as I was about what I needed to do and say, seeing Justin like that always charged my cock. And it did then. He is so fucking hot. And to see him hard, playing with his cock. Knowing the pleasure he was enjoying. I wanted him so bad.
I was getting hard without even touching myself. I couldn't stop if I tried. That's just how it was for me and Justin. That's the way it had always been. And I didn't want that to change. Not ever.
I needed to matter in Justin's life as much as he mattered in mine. I needed to convince him that the distance that had grown between us could be closed.
I took another deep breath and opened the shower door. Stepped in. Felt the first of the warm spray. My cock continued to get harder. Knowing the warm welcoming feel of the shower and the overpowering presence of Justin was more than enough.
Justin almost completely ignored me. He continued to lean with his head against the wall. Only now his hands were still. One cradling his nuts. One wrapped around his nine inches of hard, wet cock. All of him on display before me. But the only recognition from him that I was even there was his stillness.
I stepped behind him and wrapped my arms around him. Firmly but lovingly. I so wanted to hold him. To be close to him again. Not just physically. But to be close the way we had been when . . . when things were better.
I didn't want him . . . This part is so hard to explain. I didn't want him to jerk himself off. It's like he was saying to me that he didn't need me anymore. I could almost hear him saying to me, "I can take care of myself."
It was kind of like I was jealous. Jealous of the pleasure he got without me. I don't really know exactly what I was thinking, except that I didn't want him holding himself. Not then. I needed him.
I brushed his hand away and took his cock in my hand. My heart was aching. I just needed him so much. Needed him to understand and care and help me. I pressed my body against his. My cock pressing between his ass cheeks. My own bare flesh pressing against his warm, soft skin. Both of us slick from the water. The warm water running over us in rivulets.
Justin felt tense in my arms at first. Not the comforting strength and softness and sexy . . . Sexy? . . . I don't really know. Just not the same. I wanted it to be the same. The same as it had been.
In my confusion and frustration and desire, instinct took over. It always seems to with me. I began to slowly stroke Justin's cock. The way I had so many times. The way he had taught me. He seemed to be starting to relax in my arms. His body easing more into mine. His hips gently pushing the hard flesh of his cock through my fingers.
I pressed my cheek against his cheek. We were about as close together as two guys can be. Physically at least. I sensed Justin letting go of some barrier between us. I felt him press his body back into mine. I whispered in his ear that I loved him.
I waited for a response. Hoping. But only silence and the sound of the water could be heard. And so I said, "I'll always love you."
To my surprise, he turned his head so he could kiss me gently on the lips.
After that brief but meaningful kiss, he pulled back and looked at me. He looked very sad. I took him in both hands and turned him toward me. I so wanted to lavish him with attention. Wanted to let him know how I really felt about him. Wanted to make everything right between us before I had to tell him the truth. I wanted him to know I still cared.
But before I could kiss him again, he said, "We need to talk."
The tone in his voice sent a chill through me. He wasn't mad. He wasn't hurt. Or even distant as he had been so often in recent months. But in my heart, I was sure he knew where I had been. Knew what I had done. Knew already what I had to confess.
It was worse than anything I had imagined.
He reached past me and turned the water off. Kissed me once more chastely on the lips as he slipped past me out of the shower. His still hard cock rubbed against my leg, sending a surge of need through me.
But my brain and my heart both knew better.
As I stood there, dripping wet and too stunned by what was happening to move, Justin picked up his towel from the counter and started to dry himself quickly. Then he went out to the linen closet and got a towel for me.
I stood in the shower as he handed me the towel.
"Dry yourself and put on some clothes," Justin said in a not unkind voice. But it was very controlled. Not the warmth and comfort he was so capable of. This was the voice he used when something unpleasant had to be said. "We need to talk," he said again.
Then he turned and left me standing in the shower, feeling foolish and alone.
To Be Continued . . .
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I would love to receive comments on this story from readers. Email me at hardreader2000@aol.com
This is the second book in the "I Thought I Knew" series. It is not necessary to read the books in order, although Book 1 chronologically precedes this book. It can be found under the title "I Thought I Knew" in the High School section. /nifty/gay/highschool/i-thought-i-knew/
The characters in this project are real. The names and some other identifying information in this story have been changed to conceal the identities of the characters described. The Copyright for this story is held by Hardreader. The story may not be reprinted or distributed elsewhere in print, electronically or digitally without the permission of the author.
While you're waiting for the next episode, I hope you'll stay happy. And stay hard! -- H.R.