Vance's Locker Life

Vance's Locker Life gay/high school AUTHOR: Barry Mattison 07 November 2010

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INTRODUCTION: "Vance's Locker Life"

Vance has been pushed around and bullied all his school years. Small, different than the jocks...and gay, he didn't fit into any of the schools his mother moved him to and from. She too began to hate him, adding to his depression and lack of enthusiasm for doing anything other than hiding in his room. He saw only one way out of this lonely, emotional roller coaster of a life. But could he do it? Did he have the guts? And what did this new transfer jock want from him?

The characters in "Vance's Locker Life" are all fictional and any semblance to real persons--living or deceased--is purely coincidental.

DISCLAIMER (VERY IMPORTANT-PLEASE READ):

This fictional story and others written and published by this author are written for the gay reader in particular and describe scenes of male nudity and sexual acts between two or more guys that some readers may find inappropriate and/or unsuitable for their reading. Please do not read any further if you find such reading offensive or if it may become property of anyone under the age of 18 (21 in some states.) "Vance's Last Stand" is copyrighted by Barry Mattison under the Registered Trademark Foxstories® and published as StoriesByBm© with exclusive permission to publish given to the Nifty Alliance Archive only. Anyone wishing to use any stories published under either copyright may must contact me at the email above for information related to copyright. Copying, distribution or re-publication of this writing in any other web site, private or otherwise, without written permission of the author is a violation of local, national and international copyright laws and will be pursued to the fullest extent allowable by applicable laws governing that state or country.

Chapter 1

Vance slumped against the side of the locker -- the inside that is -- resting his back and knees as best he could against the sides. He'd been there since just before lunch. Todd, a captain of the football team and one of Vance's longest enemies, plus a few of his jock buddies from the football team had locked him in after one of their fun-filled name calling, shoving about sessions that normally preceded being left in his locker until someone let him out. Yelling was useless, experience had taught him that from the hundreds of times it had happened. Now in his junior year he was used to it and just waited, knowing that he would be let out when a teacher realized that he hadn't been in classes all day. The routine never changed and he'd resigned himself to the fact that he was destined to this fate, until at least graduation...if he could make it that long.

At only five feet eight inches and one hundred twenty pounds, Joe was and always had been a target for the bullies in every school his mother had transferred him to. Sure she had complained to school authorities before, but the usual reply was one of unconcern. "Boys will be boys" was the usual answer she was told time after time. The current principal, Mr. Jones, told my mom that football was the reason that the school received enough money to allow kids like me to get an education to begin with, so she should be lucky and so should I. Right now I was not feeling particularly lucky that I was now stuffed into my locker, desperately needing to go to the bathroom, not knowing when I might get out. I guess there were several things that made me a good target all these years, not that "they" needed any to torment me to this degree. I was smaller than anyone else, even most of the girls, I didn't play sports...preferring instead to spend time in the library reading; I was smarter than them, although my grades didn't show it...and I was pretty sure I was gay. Even a hint of being gay in school can get you killed, everybody knows that, so I tried my best to hide it, which didn't work as someone would invariably make up some picture or something to put on Facebook or MySpace to spread around about me that wasn't true.

It was true that I pretty much knew I was gay. Since I was about ten or eleven years old I was more interested in watching guys than girls. Now as a junior I hated shower time after PE class. As a rule I would try to wait until everybody had showered and left before carefully undressing out of my blue PE shorts and matching t-shirt; I'd slowly taking off my jock strap and cup that the teacher insisted we wear and quietly sneak into the shower, take a quick cold one, and out agaain without being seen. Sometimes I would try to sneak out without showering to avoid seeing guys naked. When it did happen that I saw one of them naked I would almost always get an embarrassing erection, then spend time trying to hide it before being spotted. It generally worked, until one day the captain of the soccer team, who happened to be in my PE class caught sight of me looking at him. I couldn't help myself but he was the most handsome guy on the team. Tall, blond hair that hung down over his ears and bangs that just barely covered his bright blue eyes...a white butt that was accented by the dark line of his summer tan, and a huge wanger wrapped in a white jock strap that was growing beginning to bulge farther out as I stood there and watched.

Eric was, simply put, captivating. He was dressing and had just put a clean jock strap on and was standing there in front of his locker with his jeans pulled up, except for the bulge of his jock hanging out the front of his jeans. It was so big and white that I found myself staring. That was when, as they say, the shit hit the fan.

"What the fuck are you staring at homo? You like looking at guys' dicks? Get the fuck out'a my sight faggot. Wait 'till I tell the guys about this, your life is going to be a REAL hell from now on."

As I sat, crunched up in the locker I remembered that that moment was the beginning of the end. The bullying turned physical, the words hurtful to the point that I couldn't stand to be seen by anybody...but I didn't want to cry or show any weakness, but the tears were starting to trickle down my cheeks as I thought about my pitiful life. Why did it have to be like this? Why couldn't these guys just leave me alone and why wouldn't someone do something about it? I felt all alone. My friends, or so-called friends, avoided me like the plague now, not wanting to incur the same fate or be called the same names as I was, even though a few of them were gay as well. In fact I knew several of the jocks who were "in the closet" that regularly were part of the group that would beat me up while calling me a "queer faggot", a "worthless piece of shit that didn't deserve to live." Many times I would come home all black and blue, my arms and legs covered with cuts and bruises, crawl under the covers and stay there, not even coming out when my mom called me to dinner. Occasionally she would come up to my bedroom to see what the problem was, but I would tell her I wasn't feeling good, so she would just walk out and leave me there, never asking or pushing further for the real answer. I gradually grew to hate her for that. Some of that hate still exists today.

Inside the locker I was slowly resigning myself to the fact that I might be spending the night there when a loud banging on the door almost caused me to wet my pants. "Hey, you still in there?"

"Yes," I replied in a quiet whisper, not knowing who might be lurking on the outside waiting to find some other new form of torture for me. "Hold on, what's your combination number? I'll let you out," came the request from outside the locker. As the dial spun around on the lock, I tried to stand up to be able to at least walk out with some dignity, but my knees were locked, along with my back, against opposite sides of the locker...I was stuck. As the door slowly creaked open I felt this dismal, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach of still being helpless, even though freedom was at hand...what would be next?

"Well, are you coming out of there or not?" a soft voice asked. Looking up I saw a stranger standing there. "I'm stuck, my knees are locked I've been in here so long. Thanks for opening the door though...I'll manage to get out by myself, thanks. What time is it?"

The dark blond, hazel eyed boy standing there stared at me. "School's almost out. You been in there all day?"

"Almost...at least since PE just before lunch. It's nothing unusual. Thanks again for letting me out, I'll manage...I'm used to it. You don't have to wait, besides, if Eric and his buddies see you helping me you'll probably end up in the same place too. They think they own the place and always push me around. I spend a lot of time in here."

"I'm not too worried about them right now. Here, let's see if we can get you out of there." I couldn't believe that someone wanted to help me, but I wasn't about to turn down the offer from whomever this guy was. Besides, he was new, someone I'd never seen around school before and very good looking...making me wary and very nervous. Usually that combination meant trouble for me, but I extended an arm for his help and felt a weird chill run down my spine when he touched me.

"Here," he said, "grab my other arm and pull yourself out if you can."

I did as he asked and managed to twist my chicken legs around each other and out I popped, nearly hitting the floor before he caught me in his arms. Lifting me up,I used his arm to steady myself as he helped me stand on my own feet; I could sense him staring at me.

"My name's Scott," he said as he extended his hand towards me. "Are you okay? You've been crying...I'm sorry."

What? I didn't know how to react because very few people who knew me ever shook my hand let alone tell me they were sorry I had been crying, but I slowly reached out and shook his hand carefully, then let go and placed both hands in my jeans pockets. "What's the matter?" he asked. "You look like you're ready to run off."

Looking down at the floor I replied, "it's just that usually if someone does something nice to me it's a setup so that they can follow it up with some more torture. I don't have a very good reputation around here. You must be new if you took a chance by letting me out. Usually it's a teacher or the janitor." I didn't want to cry in front of this stranger, especially since he had been unusually kind to me, something I didn't understand, but I also wasn't prepared to open up very much to him either. I slowly reached past him into my locker, pulled my backpack off the hook, closed and locked the door, and headed for the door and home. As I walked away I turned around..."thanks for letting me out, I really appreciate it, but if I were you I'd be careful about being seen with me. You'll end up being picked on too. Thanks again. I have to go."

Looking down once again, I headed towards the stairs and walked down and out the side door of the school towards home. I never left by the front door because the jocks and their girlfriends always hung out there after school to haze the younger kids, especially me. It was a game to them. Even the girls joined in. Sometimes I thought they were more mean than the guys. They had a way of getting under your skin knowing you couldn't do anything about it. Today I was lucky. Frequently they posted a sentinel at the side door if they really wanted to be push someone in particular around or beat them up, like me. I managed to get away from the school without anyone seeing me, except for a new face that watched me from the library window. Once I was off school grounds I ran home the rest of the way.

The next day I managed to avoid any torture as my major pain-in-the -ass tormentors had an away game and I got to leave school on time without being locked in my locker again. It was normal that I got tormented every day by these guys, so today was like a fresh spring breeze. That was until I was walking around a corner and ran right into the new guy.

"Ouch," he said, rubbing his head where I'd hit him with my book. "Are you accustomed to running into people all the time like that?"

"I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't hear you coming down the hall." I cowered down a little, unsure of what he was going to do. I was sure he had heard all about me by now and was ready to let me have it with a string of insults. "I'll just get along and leave you, sorry I hit you."

"Wait!"

Oh shit! I froze in my steps, ready to run at the slightest touch.

"Don't run. I'm not like those other guys. I'm not going to call you names or push you around, I promise. Don't leave, let's walk out together."

Gulp. "How do I know you aren't just joking? Nobody has ever talked to me like I'm a human being."

"I meant what I said. I want to get to know you. I just moved here and you're the only person I know so far, except for the jock club. I didn't care much for that guy Eric and his buddies, but they don't bother me. Come on, let's get out of here. I live a block away from you. I followed you home yesterday to see where you lived. Sorry about that but I didn't think you'd talk to me again. By the way, my name's Scott."

Once again he reached out to shake my hand. This time I shook it with a friendly smile. "Mine's Vance. How come you just transferred here?"

"My father is in the military and I have to go wherever he does. I can't even count the times I've had to change schools. I rarely ever get to make friends because of it."

"That sucks. I know what it's like not to have any friends though. I've been moved from school to school because I always get bullied around so much because of my size and stuff. Usually the teachers won't do anything about it because they think it's just part of growing up, but it really hurts a lot. Sometimes I think they do it because I'm smarter than them too, but it still hurts. Even my mom seems to think that it's 'just a phase' and once I get a little bigger they won't bother me. But I don't think I'm going to grow much taller or bigger than I am now. I expect that before long you'll be on their side too, it always happens that way."

"Well, sorry to disappoint you but I don't hang around with the assholes anymore. C'mon, let's get out of here. I'll show you where I live."

As we walked down the corridor towards the main entrance I wondered what he meant by 'anymore.' Of course my perfect day had to be ruined when we passed by the gym door on the way out. A few of the sophomores were playing basketball and one of them, an up and coming bully saw me as we passed by. As we touched the door handles and opened the doors I could hear the gym resound with the usual names aimed at me. One in particular raised the hair on my neck as the doors were closing.

"Whose your new boyfriend fag?" reverberated between the double doors just as they shut.

I looked at Scott and then the tears started to well up in my eyes. Not wanting my new friend to see me cry I mumbled, "I'm sorry," then started to run down the sidewalk towards home. I was sure that Scott would be through hanging around with me now so it didn't matter anyway. That's the way it always happened. Who wanted to be seen with a fag. I ran as fast as I could, tears streaming down my cheeks as I took a shortcut through the woods, stopping only to make sure I wasn't being followed.

When I got home I quietly closed the door and started up the stairs to my room. The tears had stopped by now, but my brain was in overdrive with so many thoughts. could hear my mother in the kitchen rustling pots and dishes around, cooking dinner. "Is that you Vance? Dinner's ready."

"I'm not hungry. Besides, I have a lot of homework." The excuse always worked because she'd given up on trying to figure out what was in my head a few years ago when I'd come home crying after being tormented and bullied around. I think the most crushing thing was that I hurt inside emotionally...something I didn't know how to deal with; all the things that people said to me just kept bounding around inside me and building up. I had nobody to talk to that I thought would understand me, so when I wasn't being harassed at school, I spent most of my time alone, often staying in my room all weekend, lying in bed in tears. I just couldn't seem to separate everything out into something that made sense. The more I tried, the more depressed I got, the more depressed I got the less I felt like trying. It was like a circle that never ended and it was driving me deeper and deeper into my own world dark world. I was beginning to feel like the most worthless person on the planet.

"Okay, I won't bother you." came floating up the stairs, adding to the hurt even more. Why didn't my own mother see that I was hurting and come talk to me?

I shut my bedroom door quietly so that I wouldn't draw any attention and locked it, dropped my books on the desk and crawled under the covers. It wasn't long before the tears started again. The thought of losing another new friend was making my heart ache. Why did this have to happen to me, why not someone else. Maybe the world would be better off without me. Nobody seemed to care anyway, not even my own mother. I wished I had a father. He would know what to say to me, I'm sure, but he was gone.

He was an alcoholic for years, since I was about five. My mother divorced him when I was seven, so he left and never called or came back to see me since then.

I dug myself under the covers, curled up in a fetal position, and cried myself to sleep, knowing that sleep wouldn't last long.

The next morning, after a lousy night of sleep, my mother was knocking on the door early, "It's six-thirty, time to get up and ready for school."

"I'm not going today, I don't feel good, you'll have to call the school for me. Besides, it's Friday." Today was a big day at school with an assembly in the morning to roust up the school for the big basketball tournament, and there was no way I wanted to be there after what happened yesterday afternoon. And I certainly didn't want to see Scott after what had happened. I didn't know what he did when I ran off, but I'm sure that now he knew I was gay he wouldn't want to hang anywhere around me. I had warned him though. For some reason the thought of losing him as a new friend and confidant was especially depressing and I didn't want to face him again. When I had first seen him as he let me out of the locker I felt something I'd never felt before about a guy and I was confused with the feelings I had deep inside.

"All right, I'll call before I go to work. See you tonight honey."

Yeah right, thanks for coming in and finding out what the real problem was I thought to myself as I crawled back under the covers again. Once more the tears started to flow. I hated myself, my mother, school, Eric and his gang, everybody...even Scott. There was no place for me to fit in. I'd certainly heard it enough from kids at all the schools I'd been through but this school seemed like it was the end of the road for me. I just couldn't take it anymore. By now I'd cried so much I couldn't cry anymore. The depression, a normal part of my life, seemed to crush me into the bed as I slowly sat up and sat on the edge with my head in my hands. I opened up my computer and went to my Facebook page to see what insulting remarks were on there today. In big colored letters I read,"Vance is a fag. We hate all fags. They should kill themselves and make the place better for all of us normal people." Beside the comment was a picture of me hanging from a tree.

Now I was at the end of my rope. Everyone in school, no, the whole world knew about me and could read this. They wanted me dead huh? Well, maybe if I was dead then they'd feel different. Maybe they'd say, "Wow, we didn't think he'd really do it," or, "we were just fooling around...we didn't mean it." If that's what they wanted, they win 'cause I couldn't take it any longer. No friends, nobody to talk to, nobody to understand me, no way I could go to school...even my own mother didn't seem to care. I guess that left only one way out. I tried to cry for myself, but I couldn't because there was so much anger inside at everyone for doing thus to me. I'd lost control of my own life and that had left me emotionally empty inside. Enough so that I didn't care, even feel anything for myself or anyone else.

After a few minutes I walked to the bathroom, took a pee and went back to my bedroom. As I sat on the edge of my bed I remembered that my mother still had my father's pistol 'hidden' away. Thoughts of 'what if' began to dance around in my head. What if I was gone, who would miss me anyway? Probably nobody. My mother...maybe for a while, but she'd get over it. Certainly nobody at school. I sat there, the tears started to flow again thinking about what I was contemplating and the terrible feeling that I was all alone in the world. The more I thought about it, the easier it became to walk into my mothers room and find the pistol and bullets. Going back to my room I locked the door, then changed my mind and unlocked it. Let them find me right here, serve them right. Maybe then they'd feel sorry for causing me to do this. My emotions ran all over the place, from anger, to fear...what if I only got wounded? In some small place in my mind I wanted to live but I couldn't find a way out.

I put the muzzle of the gun in my mouth and felt the cold steel against the roof and tongue simultaneously as I rested it there. Slowly I laid back on the bed and thought again of all the things people had done to me, the confusion I was feeling, and the need to escape it. Tears would come and go as my anger would and as I lay there with the gun barrel in my mouth I thought, just pull the trigger, it'll be all over. Nobody will miss you. But I also had this nagging thought in my mind that there must be somebody that cared, somewhere. Maybe if I just ran away...no...pull the trigger, the same problems will just follow you. I cried, I got angry I pulled the gun out, I put it back in. Finally I was so mentally exhausted I put it back away and laid in bed, spent from the emotional drain of what I had just been thinking of doing. In a sense it had given me some power back because my life was the only thing I could control...I needed some time to think about that.

After an hour or so I went downstairs to the kitchen. Although I felt physically beaten down, I was a little hungry by now and wanted some toast. I don't know why, but I found some wheat bread and threw a couple pieces into the toaster. While I waited for it to toast the doorbell rang. Let it ring, I didn't care, plus I was just wearing boxers. I waited, hoping whomever it was would go away, but it rang again. My toast popped up and as I buttered it and dropped the knife in the sink, again the insistent damn thing went off. The door was at the bottom of the stairs and had a thin, white curtain on it. I could see out, but anyone standing outside couldn't see in.

As I quietly walked past the door and turned to go upstairs I saw Scott through the curtain, ready to ring the bell again. What was he doing here? He should be in school making new friends. I didn't want to open the door, but the fact that he was there had me stumped and I reached for the doorknob just as was turning to leave. I thought about just letting him leave, but then changed my mind and opened the door.

A bit on the defensive side I was prepared for anything when I asked, "What are you doing here? Come to tell me you don't want to be friends anymore, pick on me a little, call me a faggot, or punch me for embarrassing you yesterday," I asked him as he turned around and stepped back up onto the landing of the porch. I was ready to slam the door shut if he even made any sudden moves towards me.

"No. I wanted to apologize for not chasing after you yesterday and staying with you. I know you must have felt embarrassed and hurt by what those guys said, and then when I didn't even come after you it must have hurt you even more. I'm sorry. Can we still be friends?" He had his hand extended towards me.

Still in a defensive, angry mood, I shot right back at him. "What are you, nuts or something? You heard what they said. I hear it all the time, plus a lot worse. You don't need to hang around me and get the same reputation." While he was talking I was looking at his hand, still extended towards me. For some unknown reason I slowly grasped it and then let go.

"Thanks. Listen, when I heard that you didn't come to school today I was worried about you, that's why I came over. I don't care what Eric, his buddies or anybody else says, I came because I wanted to. I still want to be friends with you."

I was in shock, maybe more like frozen with shock. "So, how about letting me in?"

I opened the door, let him in and locked it behind him. "I was just having some toast, you want a piece?"

"Sure, thanks. I didn't have any breakfast this morning because I went to school early hoping to catch you before school started."

"For what?"

"I wanted to talk. Just let you know what I just told you. Can we hang in your bedroom or do we have to stand here in the doorway?" Oh, sorry, follow me, my room's upstairs." As we walked up the stairs I realized that I was only wearing my boxers. As soon as I got to my bedroom I rushed to pull on some shorts and put on a t-shirt.

"Are you embarrassed or something?"

"Um...a little, or scared, or something."

"Well don't be, I walk around the house all the time in my boxers; my mom doesn't care and neither does my brother...he does too. We've always been open about things like that, even my father does after being in the military so long."

"Aren't you afraid of what someone might think?"

"Naw, why should I be. Words mean nothing, and besides, nobody ever bothers me or my brother."

"Why's that?"

"We're both trained in martial arts. We've been doing it since we were little kids on the different bases. Both of us are champions in our belt divisions, although we don't mention anything about it."

"How old is your brother?

"Same age as me. You just haven't met him yet. He's in different classes...smarter than me. His name's David and we're twins, but not identical. You'll know him when you see him."

"There's no place to sit down except for the edge of the bed. My chair broke a while back and I haven't replaced it yet so I do my homework on the bed. You can sit on the bed and I'll sit on the floor."

"I'm not on the bed unless you sit up here with me, and I won't take no for an answer?"

"Ummm...are you sure about that? You heard what everybody calls me, and I'm sure by now you've seen the internet."

"Sit up here," he asked, patting his hand on the bed beside him.

"Okay, it's your reputation. Last chance...you sure?"

"If you don't I'm going to throw you up here."

"Okay, okay."

"That's better, now where's my piece of cold toast?"

"Here, sorry about that, you want a fresh piece? I'll go make some." I started to get up but with both hands he pulled me back down to the bed by my waist. I was startled, but in a way it felt good to have his hands on me, and it seemed like he was in no hurry to remove them, but he eventually did. "Okay, go with the cold one then. Here." I handed him a piece of my toast and we sat there in silence, munching on cold wheat toast.

"Okay, I came here to stay with you because I like you and because I want to make a real friend. Someone I can share things with that I can't share with other friends. That's why I've been so persistent about following you, trying to get to know you, then coming over here this morning. I know what it's like a little bit to be called the same things you have, and I also know how depressing it can be. I used to feel so alone, hurt, even depressed because my father wouldn't defend me or even try to understand me. 'Military men don't show emotion' he would say. 'Buck up and take it like a man.' But I couldn't because he didn't want to hear anything I had to say. When I got bullied in school he would say, 'you're no son of mine if you can't take care of yourself.' That's when I talked my brother into taking karate with me. After that the bullying started to go away as I was able to fight, but I hated it then and still do. It's not the answer to being bullied around. I have always hated him for not going to the schools and talking to someone about it."

"If I tell you something, will you promise not to freak out? You say you want to be friends, and you are the one that came over here." I was nervous thinking of opening up to him, but after what he had just said I felt closer and better about opening up. I had to talk to someone and Scott was as close as anyone had ever been, literally. "I really need someone to talk to, I mean I'm sort'a messed up about some things, and afraid."

"That's why I came over Vance. I knew you needed someone to talk to, I just didn't know if you would. I'm a good listener."

I hung my head, waiting for something to come out of my mouth, but nothing would. "I, um, well you see, um, ever since I was..." I couldn't breathe and my voice was going. I didn't think I was going to be able to say anything after all. "You want to tell me you're gay, right?" My head turned and I looked at him. "How did you know I was trying to say that?" I had tears in my eyes.

"Because I could tell. The signs were pretty obvious. The remarks at school, the way the guys bully you around, the way you ran away yesterday and tried to avoid me, and...because I'm gay too."

"REALLY! How do you know that?" I was suddenly excited again. I sat up and moved closer to him. "I mean, I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry, but it bothers me so much because I have all these feelings inside and don't know how to deal with them, plus I don't have anyone to ask."

"I've known for some time now. Fortunately I had people around me who could help me through all those feelings and help me understand who I am. Plus the training in martial arts has given me the confidence of being internally strong and self-assured."

"Well I'm happy for you, but I'm a mess. I was at the breaking point this morning when I thought I had lost you as a friend. That's why I didn't come to school today was because I was afraid of having you tell me to get lost. I couldn't have taken any more rejection from anyone, not even a new friend. Can I tell you something else, real serious like, but promise you won't say anything. You have to promise."

"I promise."

I hung my head back down in shame. "I was ready to end it all this morning. I couldn't find any other way out after yesterday, and then the thought of losing you, my new friend just pushed me over the edge I guess. Mentally I'm not very good right now after all these years of being pushed around, called names, locked in my locker and told I'm worthless and better off dead. This morning I ended up with my father's gun in my mouth." I was sobbing by now. "All I had to do was pull the trigger and end it all, but I couldn't do it."

I felt an arm around my shoulder as Scott pulled me close to him. I didn't resist. I reached my arms around his waist and clung to him as I cried. I could hear him crying too as he laid his head down on mine.

"I'm so glad I came over and so glad you couldn't pull that trigger because I would have lost my new friend." He was running his hand through my hair now and trying to calm me down. In a few minutes I slowly let go and sat up, but he kept his arm wrapped around my shoulder and sat as close to me as he could. "I'm so sorry that everybody has treated you the way they have. Nobody deserves it, especially you. I think you're a great guy and a great friend to be able to trust me to open up to. My life hasn't always been good either when it comes to the issue of being gay, so I understand some of what you're going through. But it's okay to have those feelings. You are who you are. Being gay is not a choice, we're born that way."

"Then why does it hurt so much?"

"Because people are ignorant and make fun of things they don't understand, or don't want to understand, especially when they're in a group...like Eric. Alone they act different, but when they get together they feel empowered, like a gang does, to pick on those that are different than they are. It's not right and it has to stop. Teachers and school administrators should not allow it to happen, but they know that these guys bring in the money for their sports programs and the parents, especially most of the father's, would not support the school programs without their jock sports. They live their lives through their sons and it's a win at all cost situation sometimes that pervades the school and causes people that have the power to change things to look the other way."

"So people like me suffer. That makes me feel good. I know my mother tried a few times to say something but the school principals would tell her it's just boys being boys."

"See, that's about the bottom line much of the time. Several teens in schools I've been in have committed suicide because of the same thing you've been through. To tell the truth, that's the main reason I came this morning. I could tell you were close to the edge because one of those teens was a friend of mine and I didn't listen in time. I told myself that if another friend was in the same position, I would never walk away or not listen, and I'm so glad I came over. I really like you and don't want to lose you as my friend, my best friend. Together we can get through this."

"I don't know what to say. Nobody has ever cared enough to go this far or even talk this much to me. Yes, I want to be friends and no, I don't want to give up now. But I'm still afraid of school and how to deal with the name calling and being locked in my locker. Worse yet, I'm all over the internet now. Have you seen it yet?"

"No, and I don't care to because it's nothing but stupid rumors meant to hurt someone...you. For starters, you now have two friends, because my brother won't tolerate your abuse either. So now we have our own gang."

"Is your brother gay too?"

"No, but we're very close. He's always accepted me for who I am and has been by my side when I needed him. It's not that I can't take care of myself, but when I need someone to talk to he understands me, doesn't criticize me or make fun of me because I'm gay, and I am always there for him. We're really close."

"I wish I had a brother like that, even a friend to talk to would be good. I feel so alone all the time. That's why I wanted to end it this morning. I feel ashamed about even telling you this because we haven't known each other that long. I hope you won't tell anyone. If word get's out about what I told you I will kill myself because everybody will pick on me for not doing it the first time."

All of a sudden I could imagine what would happen if Scott said something to someone. My stomach knotted up and I felt like throwing up. I shrunk away from him and backed into the corner of the bed, pulling my knees up close by wrapping my arms around them. The depression was instant. My head dropped into my arms and I began crying. Seems like I spent a lot of my life in this state of mind. My mind was spinning with thoughts of people making fun of me for not going through with pulling the trigger. "Whats the matter fag boy, chicken out, can't even do something right the first time?"; "Hey asshole, can't 'ya even take a little ragging, pussy. Why don't you go kill yourself. Do it right this time."

I could just hear all the things that everyone was going to hit me with and I saw no way out, which drove me into a deeper depression. Out of frustration I started hitting my head on the wall. I just wanted to die right now and avoid everything. At the thought of remembering everything I slid off the bed, stood up and started for the door.

"Where are you headed?" asked Scott.

"I don't know and I don't care anymore," I muttered as I reached the door.

"Wait, I'm going with you. You're not going to be alone. I can tell you're really hurting and I want to be with you."

Scott jumped up and stood in front of me, holding me from leaving. He was looking right into my eyes, but I was looking at the floor, anger starting to rise up from withing from the frustration of feeling so helpless. "You can't stop me, " I said. "Yes I can; you're not leaving without me if I have to sit on you and hold you down."

"I just want to be left alone, I can't take this any longer."

"All the more reason that I stay with you. Come on," he said as he wrapped his arms around me, turned me around with some force, and pushed me back into the room. With one wuick twist he flipped me back around again so we were facing each other, then he reached up with one hand and lifted my chin up until we were face to face, inches apart. Inside I was angry at him for stopping me, but I was also glad that he had stopped me from leaving at the same time. "You have beautiful eyes," he said.

"Huh?" What did that have to do with anything?

"Listen. I like you. I know you've been mistreated, abused, beaten, and had just about every physical and emotional dart thrown at you for so long that you feel like you are at the end of your rope. I've been there, I felt the same way. I'm so sorry that all these idiots have done this to you," as he stared deep into my eyes. "My heart is aching from thinking of the pain you've suffered, more so than I have, but what has happened is in the past and can't be changed. I promise you this though, from now on, the gay bashing and bullying it over. From now on you have two new best friends, my brother and I, but especially me. I really like you more than a friend. I'd like to get to know more about you, spend more time together, go out together, whatever you want to do. I've been needing someone in my life too. What do you say? Can we be best friends and see where it takes us? I guess what I'm saying in my own way is that I'm coming out finally. It's time to stop living the lies and start living the truth beginning with standing up with my friends, including my best friend."

"Are you sure about this? You're not just saying things to make me feel better right now so I won't do something to myself are you?" I couldn't believe or trust that he wasn't saying all this just to keep me from hurting myself or ending my life knowing that I would be alone sooner or later. "I mean, there's nothing special about me. Just a skinny, worthless little runt that nobody cares about. Why should I believe that someone suddenly cares about me?"

"Maybe this will help convince you," as he leaned in closer to me and gently kissed me. Not a peck or a quick kiss, but a gently, loving kiss that sent chills down my spine. I moved back slightly and stared into his eyes. They were so soft looking, so caring, and so beautiful. I leaned forward, parted my lips slightly and kissed him again, for a long time. It felt so good as our tongues wrapped round each others', his soft lips biting mine gently. As he pulled away he asked, "Did that help convince you that I mean what I say?"

"It was nice. I've never kissed another guy before. It doesn't take away my problems, but it did feel good in a different way. Can I kiss you again?" Without even saying anything he leaned back in and kissed me harder this time, forcing my mouth open wider with his tongue. I opened my mouth and my tongue met his as we explored each others' mouth and lips for several minutes. My eyes were closed, my hands wandered around his body, rubbing his back, neck and head as we kissed. I couldn't believe that this was happening. It felt so good and at the same time I was shaking with emotion. Why? I didn't know.

"Come on, let's just lay down and rest for a while," he said, "maybe you can get some sleep and let your head clear out for once. I won't leave you. Come here," he motioned as he held my hand and crawled onto my bed, side by side. He pulled a blanket over us as he pulled me up close to him in a spoon position. When he snuggled up close to me I suddenly realized that I was only wearing my boxers.

"Are you okay I'm not dressed or wearing some shorts or something?" He put his arm around my chest and asked if I was comfortable. "I promise I won't do anything, I just want you to know that I'm here and you can sleep safe.

"Thanks Scott. It feels so good to be close to you. You're so warm. It feels good to be wrapped up in your arms. Thank you. I want to be with you too. Thanks for staying with me and not letting me leave alone, again."

"It's okay. Just rest and get some sleep for now. I'll be right here when you wake up." Scott snugged up a little tighter and in a few minutes Vance's breathing slowed as he fell into a deep sleep.

I waited until I was sure he was sleeping, then I too fell asleep, my mind working overtime thinking about Vance and worrying about how to get him some professional help without compromising our new-found friendship. I really liked him and felt stirrings inside that I hadn't felt before. The more I touched him the more his body reacted physically. At one point, even now, he had a partial hardon that was growing the more I tenderly stroked his sexy body.

It's too soon for this, I thought to myself as I started to fall asleep. We need to go slow and work a lot of emotional problems out before we can have a relationship, but I'm committed to be there for him because I want to...and because I really love him. I just hope that he doesn't have those thoughts of suicide again. Maybe we should both go to counseling together.

The next thing I remember was Vance stirring about under my arm. The sun was just starting to shine through the south facing window and I was surprised that we had slept so long. It felt like I had slept forever, but it had been a restful sleep with my arm around Vance, and as he sat up and looked at me, he was thinking the same thing. A big smile slowly spread across his face as he looked into my sleepy eyes. "What are you thinking about handsome?" I quizzed him with a crunched up look on my face.

"Just looking at you and thinking how lucky I am to have met you at this lousy time in my life."

"Make that both our lives," I responded. "I don't know if you believe in fate, or whatever, but something brought us together at the right time just for each other, and I'm happy for the first time in a long time."

"Me too," Vance replied with a smile. I think that this is the first morning I've woken up in a long time that I'm not afraid to go to school."

I sat up against the head of the bed and pulled Vance up with me, holding him against me as he spoke up. "I feel exactly the same way. I'm not afraid to go to school today either for different reasons. You aren't hiding in the closet anymore and I won't be stuffed in the closet anymore...I hope."

"No, not as long as my brother or I are around it won't happen. One of the first things we're going to do is make sure you two get introduced today. I'd like you to think about taking martial arts lessons with us when you're ready. That way you'll be able to defend yourself. It's not so you can go looking for trouble, but at least you can get out of it if neither of us is around until the bullying stops and teachers and the administration start paying attention to our problems. Maybe by making an issue of it we can get policies changed and come up with some ways for people to be held accountable for their actions. But this is a lot to think about right now. We haven't even climbed out of bed yet and my head is already spinning with ideas...and I need to pee real bad!"

"Me too, let's go! How about a shower...together?" Vance suggested slyly.

"Um...sure, I think that would be great. Nice way to save water you know."

We both laughed, breaking the tension that had built up suddenly. "I've never taken a shower with another guy, alone...naked, but I want to with you," Scott said as he climbed out of bed. We both had morning hardons, but I had on only my boxers and there was no mistaking the tent protruding from the front. Scott was still wearing his jeans, but I could easily make out a nice bulge in the front, enticing me to reach out, grab his hand and lead him to the bathroom...the excitement of a shower together for the first time with another guy -- on purpose -- excited me even more, making it harder to relieve myself. It felt like trying to force water from a fire hose through a straw, but I finished taking a piss first. I reached in and started the shower water on warm, than waited until Scott was done.

Slowly, not really knowing how or what to do first, I began to pull my boxers down, but Scott stopped me, reached up and began to pull my boxers down my skinny legs slowly. As soon as they slipped past my hips they dropped to the floor. Feeling a little bold I pulled Scott's t-shirt out of his jeans and up over his upstretched arms, noticing his washboard abs and hard, flat stomach. I almost lost myself then, but the anticipation of removing the rest of his clothes pushed me on. He unbuckled his belt with my fingers intertwined with his and I unzipped his jeans, pulling them slowly down his hips and to the floor, revealing a tight pair of tighty whities holding in a full pouch of manhood. As I pulled off his jeans and socks my hands quivered as I reached up and placed my small fingers on each side of his briefs.

I waited for a few seconds, unsure of where we were going until a pair of arms descended down from above and grasped my hands, steadying them as we both slowly pulled down the sexiest briefs I'd ever seen on a guy until this point in my short, gay life. As they slowly slid down, uncovering his rather large manhood, I pulled them right down, not wanting to wait any longer. About seven and a half inches of the most beautiful cock thwhacked me in the face on its way past my face where it slapped Scott's stomach with a loud SNAP! I stared in amazement, not knowing what to do. Scott grasped both of my hands, pplacing one on his engorged cock and the other on his hairless, low-hanging balls. From that point nature took over my hands and my first 'gay sex' was the most incredible experience of my life.

To hell with what people said about me. I was gay, I had my first sexual experience, a best friend willing to 'see where things would lead us', and I was, at least for the moment, terrifically happy.

Soon we were off to school. I'd never been happier, and for once in my life, maybe the first time, smiling when we arrived at school together. The first thing we did was hunt down Scott's brother at his usual hangout, the backdoor with his buddies. He didn't smoke but his friends sure made up for it. Such a "cool thing" to do. When we both showed up he hopped off the railing, walked over and gave Scott a hug.

"Hey bro, wassup?" Scott asked David. We had always been close, maybe I mentioned that before, but everyone at school already knew it, as well as knowing that he was straight. So nobody thought anything of it. However, when they saw me, the mood quickly changed. Scott introduced me to his brother David. I shook his hand, keeping one eye on his friends as we did. "Don't mind them, they're just a bunch of pussies. Any friend of Scott's is a friend of mine."

Turning his head slightly to look at his friends he made a special emphasis of his last remark by repeating it. "Just to make sure you heard me, ANY FRIEND OF MY BROTHER IS A FRIEND OF MINE."

Looking back at me, David added, "Anytime you need anything don't be afraid to ask, okay?"

"Thanks David, I really appreciate it. Anytime you need anything with term papers of school work just let me know, I have a pretty good grade average and would help you out with anything you need. I'm just not much of a sports person."

I was reaching for straws of sorts by saying that, but I didn't want it to appear that David was protecting me from these goons on purpose, although they didn't look like they had the brains to get out of the rain anyway. "Hey thanks bro, and thanks for the offer to help Scott...he is a little slow." They punched shoulders and joked around as only brothers can do until Scott stopped and asked David if he could speak to him off to the side about something personal.

Following them as we walked away from the group I couldn't help but notice the similarities between them. Cute butts, muscular chests, tight, narrow waists, the wavy dark blond hair and matching blue eyes were unmistakeable clues that they were blood brothers, and damn cute at that. Scott stopped and looked at David.

"Listen bro, this is very serious to Vance and I. We need your help in changing some attitudes if you will stand with us." Scott was shuffling his feet around from a sudden nervous streak.

"Okay Scott, just come out and say it. It's obvious that you and Vance are in love. I can see it in both of your eyes. You know I'm straight, and I'm secure in being who I am, and I know that you're becoming secure in who you are and I'm proud of you. I'm happy you've found someone who makes you happy and you can count on me to be there for both of you without even asking." David reached out and gave his brother a big hug, then walked up to me and did the same, right in plain sight of his buddies, who were watching us intently. They took their clue as a group from David who, by his natural leadership abilities as well as his ability to kick the shit out of anybody who dared to take him. I on the other hand was a little more apprehensive when he hugged me, but I did, and held in for a moment just to "close the deal" in front of the guys.

David turned towards his shocked buddies, then turned around and laughing, said, "Okay you two lovebirds, don't miss class. This is great, now I've got two bro's to pick on."

"Um...please be careful how you use that phrase 'pick on', he's had enough of it lately from all the bullies in school," as I shot a sideways glance at a few of the guys behind David. "I'll tell you about it later. Thanks for your support bro. Love 'ya"

"Love you guys too. See 'ya later."

We turned and headed towards the front door as David went back to his bunch of buddies. "What's up with the little fag boy?" one of the jocks asked. David walked up to him, nose to nose. "If you," then looking quickly at the rest of the jocks and back at the nose immediately in front of him, "ever so much as say anything like that to or at him again, pick on him OR my brother for hanging around with him, stick him in his locker again, call him names, touch either of them, I promise you that between my brother and I you will pay for it in ways you haven't even thought of. The bullying is over, and that goes for anyone and everyone...no more. It's time to grow up and act like men, not bullies, and while I've been just as responsible at times as any one of you, I'm going to be the first one to end it. That's all I have to say. Any questions?"

"Yeah." one of the big guys from the football team spoke up. "What's the big deal about picking on a couple of homo fags. It doesn't do any harm, besides, it's funny."

"You think it's funny fatso. How come you can't run the length of the football field without taking a rest? How come we lost the last game because you fell down and it took two guys to help you get back up porky? What's the matter piggy, can't you stop eating like a hog, or is your whole family the same way?"

"What the fuck you saying. If I could catch you you'd know what it's like to be big and unable to lose this weight."

"Exactly! How do you like being picked on? How do words feel when they're said to you 'in fun'...what's the big deal? Besides, It's funny, isn't it? You do it to other people like Vance, whose way smaller than you because he can't fight back, and because it's your defensive way of distracting attention away from you. Right? RIGHT!"

"Yeah, I guess so," the player admitted. "It doesn't feel very good when people call me names, so I get back at someone by picking on them because I can get away with it."

"You USED to be able to get away with it, and so goes it for the rest of you. For all I know, and I do know, some of you are struggling with feelings of your own sexuality, so you pick on somebody who 'looks' gay to distract attention away from your own fears of homosexuality rather than deal with your feelings in an honest way. Sooner or later though you're all going to have to deal with whatever things make you pick on other people. Have any of you stopped to think that maybe, just maybe some of your bullying could be pressure from your parents...especially your fathers who are pushing you guys into sports so hard. Win at all costs sound familiar?

All I can say is...deal with it because as of now I'm making it my mission to stop the bullying in this school. You guys carry a lot of weight, no pun intended Joe, and I'd like you to help me pull it off. Can I count on you guys? Who will help me put a program together to present to the principal? And in the classes"

After waiting a few minutes David had his answer.

One month later, in a required school meeting of all students, trained professionals came in and conducted a whole day, 'hands-on' learning experience and role playing time of learning about what really happens in the lives of other students. They spent time talking about their home lives, what it was like growing up, what it was like to be bullied or to be a bully...even the teachers were involved in the eye=opening day.

At the end of the day, with tears in their eyes, most all of the students had made new friends, signed a promise to end the bullying, and gathered together as a group of one-minded people ready to reach out to other schools and teach them that we're all human,,,and IT DOES GET BETTER!

As for Vance and Scott, well, they are still together having survived school together. They both went to the same college and got different degrees, got through the bullying in college together by the strength of their relationship and all they'd been through, and now, ten years later, have adopted two babies to bring up in a rough world still filled with bigotry and hatred, but also supported by two wonderful and loving guys that can stand on their own feet and take on whatever gets thrown at their family. They're still madly in love with each other, lying on the bed with their two young kids lying by their side. All's well that ends well.

"Daddy, what's faggot mean?

I actually started this story before all the news broke with Tyler Clementi's death from bullying. So in ending, I would like to dedicate it to all those families who have lost sons and daughters by suicide from the bullies out there who have been put on notice that their scare tactics will not be tolerated any longer and they will be held accountable for their actions as well as those who encouraged them.

My heart goes out to you if you are being bullied and are afraid to speak up or talk to someone. DON'T BE! Find someone who will listen, call a suicide hotline, fight for your life because you are worth it!