Date: Wed, 30 Mar 2005 23:42:44 -0800
From: Kevin Harness <kevroc54321@tns.net>
Subject: Hands On My Heart, Part 5

Hands On My Heart
Part 5

This story contains descriptions of actors playing gay characters of legal
age and below 18.  These actors engage inconsensual sex in this story,
however your government, local laws, statutes, etc may not allow you to
read this story.  You are not supposed to be reading this story if you are
not 18 years of age.  All that being said, I write this story for true
boylovers and the boys that love to be loved, everywhere, anywhere.

==================================================================

Trevor entered his senior year at 17 years old, well-liked, Vice President
of the Student Body, and carrying a 3.65 GPA.  He didn't have a car yet but
was saving up for one.  Working for Michael was extremely lucrative, as he
was continually busy and always learning something new.

It was pretty obvious he was gay, but he never dated anyone in school.  In
fact, other than hanging out with a few of his girl friends or occasionally
his best friend Aaron, he mostly went home, did homework, and either hung
out with his parents watching TV or was over at Michael's working on
computers.

One of his girl friends, Cindee, waved at him madly from across the hall by
his Advanced Chem class, and hurried over to greet him.

"Hi!" she exclaimed.

"Hi," he said back, smiling.

"Whatcha doing?" Cindee asked.

It was lunch and he'd already eaten, so he wasn't doing much."

"Aw, just hanging before next class.  S'up?" he returned.

"I was wondering if you were going to the Prom this year," she asked.

"Um, I dunno," Trevor replied a bit evasively.  He hadn't gone to the Prom
last year, and hadn't given it much thought for this year.

"You should go," she squealed, "it would be fun," and she squinched up her
nose, smiled silly-like and shrugged her shoulders.

Trevor just smiled back, not knowing what to say.

"Well?" she asked.

"Well what?" he tried.

"Are you going?"

"Cindee," he smiled, "I'm not going decide right at this second.  I'll
think about it, ok?  I haven't given it a whole lot of thought up to now.
So let me think about it a bit and we'll talk laters."  He smiled and
shrugged his shoulders as she'd done.

"Ok, cool," she returned.  "Ok, gotta go.  I'm in P.E. next and it's
half-way across the school.

"Ok, catch you later," and Trevor waved bye as Cindee scooted off.

Prom?  Well, he hadn't intended on going.  But no more than two or three
days ago his mom had asked him if he was going, and the idea had stuck in
his head somehow.  He'd spent the next whole day wondering if he should go
or not.  And now Cindee.

True to form, he spent the rest of that day wondering if he should go or
not.  What was the big deal?  It was a dance.  A formal dance for which
he'd have to wear a tux.  And the Prom meant a date.  He didn't do dates.
He felt like he was expected to go, but couldn't find any personal reason
to go.  He kind of wanted to go, but kind of didn't, too.

He began to see the pattern of life, here.  The older you got,
"responsiblity" translated into the idea that you got asked harder and
harder questions and were expected to somehow magically have the answers.

Great.

Well he didn't have an answer for the Prom question yet.

At the end of the day he whooshed into his house and put his backpack on
the table, heading for the 'frig and something cold to drink.  As he
reached for the door handle to the refrigerator, there was an advertisement
his mom and stuck there for him with a cute little bear magnet.  His mom
like cute little bear-everythings.

It was an ad for a tux rental.

He let out an audible sigh and hung his head a bit, suddenly not quite as
thirsty as he'd been just a moment ago.

He dragged his backpack off the table and trudged into his room, throwing
the backpack on his floor and himself on the bed.

It wasn't like he was all adverse to going to the Prom, he just couldn't
figure out why everyone else was so hot-to-trot on him going.  What was the
big deal?  Were they just trying to see who he'd bring to.........?

Hmmm.

He smiled.

Yeah, maybe that was it.  Or at least part of it.  He knew he was a
'popular guy', and it was probably driving everyone crazy that they
n-e-v-e-r saw him with anyone but Aaron.

And Aaron had a boyfriend.  Jamison.

So it was his last year in high school, no one had seen him date, at all,
and this was the last chance to see who ol' Trevor would bring.  Yup.  Made
total sense.  Heck, even his mom was in there pitching.  Well, mom loved
tradition and had said that this was his last chance to go to the Prom for
the rest of his life.  Still, she'd hinted a couple times about Aaron-this
and Aaron-that, like she expected him to say something back that let on
that Aaron was more than just a friend.

The whole thing made him smile.

Yeah, it probably drove everyone nuts.

He laughed out loud.

Oh well.  Better get the rest of his homework done, and he rolled over and
yanked his backpack onto the bed, pulling out his Calculus and American
Literature books.  Calc he whizzed through, however Amer Lit took some
actual work.  He had to read some poems and answer some questions about
metaphors and imagery and all sorts of stuff.  As Trevor was exiting the
house by way of the kitchen door, his mom came in.

"Hi honey.  How was your day?" she asked.

"Good mom, thanks.  I'm done with homework and over to Michael's to see if
he's got any comps to work on."

"Ok.  Oh, by the way I left you...."

"Saw it mom, thanks," and he zoomed off before he had to talk about
tuxedos.

She sighed.

"Bye."

Michael's garage was open, so Trevor knocked on the kitchen door instead of
going all the way around to the front.  No immediate answer, so he peeked
his head in.

"Honey, I'm home," he half-yelled, and he slipped in and shut the door.

"Hi.  Be right out," Michael called back from the rear of the house.

They caught up on their days, and both sat down across from each other at
the kitchen table, silent for a moment or two.

"Michael, do you own a tux?"

Michael was taking a swallow off a cold beer, and shook his head no.  After
he'd swallowed he asked, "Why?"

He was taking another drink when Trevor answered.

"Oh.  Well, I thought you might want to take me to my Prom."

Probably in slow motion one would've been able to discern what actually
happened in the next second or two, but to Trevor it looked like Michael
had suddenly turned into an espresso machine gone very, very bad.

Beer went everywhere, Michael tried to put the can of beer down on the
dining room table in a hurry but ended up slinging it instead, and was
choking with beer and foam spewing every which way.

By the time Michael caught his breath and looked up, Trevor had a slightly
amazed look on his face and a couple drops of beer were dripping from the
hair on his forehead.

Michael got up and went to the cupboard, and came back with a bottle of
Jack Daniels and a shot glass.  He poured himself a shot, drank it, and
once again looked up at Trevor.

Trevor looked at Michael.  He reached over and took the shot glass out of
Michael's hand and poured himself a shot of Jack, too, and slung it back.

His face squinched up like he'd swallowed straight jalepeno juice.

"Good God Michael, that tastes like shit," and he shook his head as if to
shake off the taste.

"I didn't ask you to try that," Michael pointed out.

"Well I figured since I'm wearing alcohol I may as well drink some if I'm
going to smell like it," he came back.

"Sorry about that," and Michael began to laugh, "I just got this whole
mental picture of that episode of Queer As Folk where Justin invited Brian
to his Senior Prom."

"Does that mean you'll take me?" Trevor asked hopefully.

"Trev, I'd probably get shot.  If not by your faculty, then probably by
your mom and dad."

"It's just a dance," he said, not even believing the words came out of his
own mouth.  "No one can pin anything on you or me because of a dance."

It made perfect sense.

Michael took another shot.

"Michael, stop that," Trevor admonished.

"It's helping," Michael quipped back.

Michael was rubbing his eyes and trying to get his wits about him, and
Trevor quietly took the bottle and poured himself another shot, too.

"Trevor!  You're going to get....." and he sighed.

"I think you're right.  This appears to be working," Trevor blinked his
eyes to try to focus.  It was way comical.

They both laughed.

"Ok, so let's look at this Prom thing," Michael began.  "I have no problem
supporting you, being there for you, ever.  But we both have a pact to not
do or say anything that will in any way endanger our being able to see each
other.  Now, true, no one can p-r-o-v-e you and I are "involved" just
because I take you to the Prom.  But I'm fairly sure that your mom and dad
can add 2 + 2 pretty well."

"Yeah."

"And school's can be pretty weird, sometimes, if they think something's
wrong with a home or family they can haul in the authorities or at least
file a report."

"Yeah."

Michael paused.

"Michael?"

"Yeah Trev?"

"If I'm going to be your boy when I'm 18 and 20 and 25 or whatever, they
all have to find out sometime, right?"

"True."

"I'll be 18 in July.  The Prom's in April, only three months from July.
I'm not saying that you have to take me, but I really want to go.  And
there's absolutely no one else I would go with but you."

"Why do I get the impression you're putting your foot down and making a
statement here?"  Michael asked.

Trevor fidgeted a bit, not looking up at Michael or answering.

Michael got up from him chair and kissed the top of Trevor's head, walking
in the living room.  He didn't sit down.  He was thinking.

What was he going to do?  Actually, he did want to take Trevor.  Wanting to
wasn't the problem, it was whether or not this would put a major jam on
their being able to see each other afterwards.  On the lighter side, maybe
everyone would just shrug their shoulders and go, oh well.  Realistically,
though, it would probably end up somewhere in between.

He walked back into the dining room area and sat back down at the table.

"You know," he said, reaching across and grasping one of Trevor's hands, "I
kind of want to go, too.  Really.  But if I did anything to mess up being
able to see you, well, I don't want to go down that path.  I'm not saying
that going to the Prom would do that, but before I totally say yes, I want
us both to look at it pretty well."

"Yeah.  I know.  I was thinking that too.  Yeah, sure, it would be great to
have you be my date - the absolute first date anyone at school or anywhere
else will have seen me go on."  He paused for a moment.  "But I don't think
I'd be the most rational guy on Earth if after that I couldn't see you."

"Me either," Michael agreed.

They talked for a while as Michael fixed them something to eat.  What it
boiled down to was that Trevor's parents both knew Trevor, and Michael,
were gay.  His mom kept assuming it was Aaron that Trevor had an interest
in.  All the while, however, Trevor hung out at Michael's, worked for
Michael, invited Michael to family BBQ's, they got each other BDay gifts,
etc.  It would not, in the face of Trevor wanting Michael to be his date,
be a large leaping conclusion to think that maybe there was a mutual
interest going on.  Still, Michael was well-accepted and well thought of by
Trevor's parents.

Trevor and Michael concluded that if Trevor's parents supported the idea of
Michael being his date to the Prom, that they would go.  If not, the cat
was pretty much out of the bag and they'd have to handle whatever came
next.

A little scary, but short of just forgetting the Prom altogether, this was
the best plan.

They finished eating and chatted a bit, laughing about funny things that
happened to them across the day.  They ended by really roaring about
Michael's espresso machine reaction to Trevor's initial question.

They hugged and cuddled a bit, and Trevor said he'd better be getting home.
It was only about 8 o'clock or so but he wanted to be sure his mom was
still up when he got there.

His mom was finishing the dishes.

"Hi mom."

"Hi Trevor.  Did you already eat?"

"Yeah sorry mom.  Michael and I got to talking and he just cooked something
for me as we talked."

"Oh that's ok, just so long as you ate."

"I'm fine.  Oh, by the way mom, if it's OK with you I'd like to take you up
on your offer for renting a tux."

"OOhhh!  I'm so glad," she smiled.  "Who's the lucky guy?  Aaron?"

"Nah.  Aaron already has a date.  Michael said he'd take me."  He gave his
mom a kiss.  "I'm going to shower and listen to some music and nod off.
I'm beat.  Night mom," and he headed off toward his room.

"Oh, ok.  Night Trevor."

She was slightly dumbfounded, but, well, not totally.

Michael.

She sat down to rationalize the situation, the facts, and to organize her
thoughts.

She'd known Michael was gay, but had seen indications in her son long
before he'd made friends with Michael.  She absolutely didn't have any
judgement on it one way or the other.  On top of that, she trusted Michael
and knew he'd supported Trevor on many, many occasions.  She'd be very hard
pressed to say that he'd been anything but a positive and consistently good
influence on Trevor.

But, was it going too far to let assumptions - correct or not - be made by
Michael's escorting her son, a minor, to the Prom?

Probably a key deciding factor was that she trusted Trevor's judgement.  He
was a very sharp individual, and she'd never had any qualms about who he'd
associated with for friends.

Yes, he'd be 18 in a few months and if there w-a-s anything going on
between Michael and Trevor there wouldn't be much to say about it at that
point, anyway.

She went back and forth on it.  Being 18 was still, technically, a few
months away and she could easily put her foot down and say no.

What would that help?

Would Trevor magically change his views with the passage of a few
additional months as that 18th birthday came and went?

No.  Probably not.

She discussed it with Trevor's dad when he came home a little later.

It didn't seem to matter how they looked at it.  Trevor had been a model
son, and no one could've asked for a better boy.  He was gay anyway,
Michael or not, and he was just a few short months away from being
considered an adult by society.  Michael, whatever influence he had
imparted to Trevor, could only be read as a positive influence.

It was difficult to comprehend that they might've been more than just
friends, but you literally couldn't find any negativity to their
interaction, no matter what it had been.

In the end, they concluded that if it'd been their decision, they wouldn't
have gone to their Prom with a gay man.  But they weren't Trevor, and he
apparently had decided that this was something he wanted to do.

In the morning Trevor came into the kitchen to discover that his mom and
dad were waiting at the table for him.

"Trevor...." his mom began.

He bent over and kissed his mom, and hugged his dad.

"I'm fine guys.  Really I am.  I know your concerns, and I've given this a
lot of very careful thought.  It's really what I want to do.  And as for
Michael, he's supported me a lot, for years, and has been just about the
best friend anyone could ask for."

"Trevor, we just want to be sure....." his mom hesitated.

"Trevor.  Has Michael ever..." his dad started.

Trevor put up his hand.

"Mom.  Dad.  I've told you.  Michael is my very good friend, and has never
put himself over on me in any way whatsoever.  I'm ok," and he smiled at
them and moved toward the door to head off to school.

"Have you had sex?" his dad blurted out.

He stopped dead in his tracks, and slowly turned around.

"I'll answer that question, if you'll both answer one for me," he said
calmly.

He waited.  Neither of them said no, so he asked.

"Mom, did you have sex before you were 18?  Dad?  You?"

They both looked at each other and then back up at Trevor.  No answer.

"Ok.  And if I went ahead and asked who it was with and, heaven forbid,
what you did, you both would probably faint.  And yet here you are asking
me the same questions."

He paused.

"Mom.  Dad.  Trust me.  I'm fine.  No one has hurt me.  On top of that, I'm
just going to go to a dance.  Yeah, I'm gay so I'm going to go with a guy.
But at least he's a guy we have known for nearly 10 years and who's been a
good friend to us."

He paused again.

"Mom.  Dad.  You're my parents, and I need your support on this one too.
Trust me.  Please."

His mom looked at his dad, and then back to her son.

"Ok, Trevor.  Ok." She smiled at him, "Have a good day Trevor."

"I will mom.  Bye dad," and he left.

He got about a block or so away and flipped open his cell to call Michael.

"Hello," Michael said, "how went it?"

"Suffice it to say that you need to rent a tux," Trevor said, smiling from
ear to ear.

"Already on my To-Do List for the day, babes," Michael chimed back.  "I
never doubted you for a moment."

"Thanks Michael.  I can hardly wait."

"That makes at least two of us," Michael laughed.

"Oh trust me, I sure that number will be WAY higher than two," and he
laughed, too.

"Who else knows that you were inviting me?" Michael asked.

"You, me, and my parents, that's it," he answered.

"Are you going to tell anyone else?"

"That I'm going?  Sure!  But as for who's taking me, oh HELL no."  Trevor
smiled.  "This is going to be a surprise."

That, Michael thought, was probably the understatement of the year.

They hung up and Trevor nearly skipped all the way to school.  He could
hardly believe it was going to happen.  In less than 24 hours he'd gone
from "no I don't want to go to the Prom" to telling him mom and dad that
Michael was taking him.  To the Prom.  In a tux.  In front of the whole
school.

He couldn't wait to tell Cindee he was going.  That would nearly ensure
that the whole school would know by lunchtime.

He smiled.  Cool.

The day went by relatively quickly, and for once Michael didn't have a ton
of things to do after dinner.  He checked his mail, email, changed into
some more comfortable clothes and sat down on the couch.

As if on cue, the phone rang.

"Hi Michael.  S'up?"  It was Trevor.

"Getting ready to order pizza, drink probably a few too many beers, and
watch a movie.  S'up with you?" he asked.

"Um, nothing much actually.  Mom is at her sister's until about 7 or so,
and dad's coming back on a red-eye from San Francisco."

"Cool.  Well you're invited over for pizza and a movie it ya want, Trev."

"Sure, be right over."

Michael was sure it couldn't have been more than 10 seconds between Trevor
hanging up and knocking at his front door.

He opened the door to probably the biggest smile he'd ever seen on Trevor.

"Did you even shut your front door as you whooshed out of your house?"
Michael ribbed, letting him in.

"Didn't have to.  The speed generated by my whoosh closed the door," Trevor
joked right back.

Michael closed the door and turned to go sit down.  Except his young friend
hadn't gone far at all.  As Michael was turning, Trevor wrapped his arms
gently around and pressed his cheek to a strong chest.

Michael nuzzled the top of his boy's head with his chin and nose, taking in
the wonderful boy smells, the traces of shampoo, the warmth, the slight,
damp smell of sweat.

Trevor let his cheek fall between strong chest muscles, smelled Michael,
his shirt, felt the muscles tense and he hugged his boy, felt him nuzzling
his hair.

If before one could have called their sexual encounters exotic, or
passionate, steamy, or perhaps even compassionate, this time the by-word
was probably tender.  Neither rushed to remove his or the other's clothes.
Lips made contact with great portions of the body, fingertips grazed over
every possible erotic spot, drawing each other infinitisimally closer to
each other in heart, if not in body.

Trevor wrapped his legs around Michael, and Michael walked him slowly
around, kissing his face, his hair, the back of his neck, his shoulders.

As they lay back on the couch, Michael opened his eyes and looked at
Trevor, who was in turn looking right into his eyes.  Both smiled slowly,
and pressed into one another for a long and heated hug and kiss.

Michael entered slowly, deeply, and with a long groan.  Trevor glanced over
at the table and saw a condom wrapped and lube opened.

He chuckled, "How do you do that?"

Michael smiled, "Whoosh," and he kissed Trev on the lips, sucking him in,
tasting him, wanting him.

It was long, it was slow.  Trevor kept slowly thrashing his head around,
causing his slightly sweaty blonde hair to cascade one way, then the other.
His eyes got very wide and he thrust himself more rapidly to increase the
pace.

Michael slowed him down, drawing the moment out.  Very, very slightly he
began to pick up the rhythm, just short of a normal pace.

Trevor groaned and bucked, "Oh OHHHH!  Damn.....  UGH!" but Michael
wouldn't let him go any faster.  He was being led almost painfully slowly
to his most intense cum ever.  His eyes rolled, and he began to breath
heavily.

Michael suddenly jumped the pace to fast, thrusting hard and deep.

"Oh my GoooooMiiiichaellllllllllll.....OOOOHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...Ugh!
Ugh! UGH!  UGH!  UGHHHHHHH!!!" and Trevor jetted rope after rope of cum.

Michael came momentarily after, just as hard, just as long, just as
intense.

They didn't move for quite a while.

And neither spoke.

They cleaned up and smiled at each other here and there, putting clothes
back on.  Once they had re-dressed, Trevor slid into Michael and hugged him
tightly, again pressing his face against his boylover's chest.

Michael kiss his boy on top of his head.

"I love it when you do that," Trevor said.

"Hmmm, funny.  I like it when I do that too," which caused them both to
laugh a bit.

Essentially, though, it was a serious moment.

It was as if something had changed, but neither could put their finger on
it, so both were quietly trying to figure out what occurred.

The pizza came, and both ate with a few words being exchanged here and
there.  Trevor's hand kept wandering to Michael's to hold it for a bit,
Michael's kept wandering to his boy's neck and shoulders.

About half an hour into the movie, Trevor grabbed the remote and pushed
Pause.

He turned.

"Michael, I've been thinking.  I thought, well I felt like something
changed but I didn't know what, or even if that's what happened...."

"Yeah...."

"....but I don't think anything changed.  Exactly.  Well, kinda, but not
exactly."  He looked directly at Michael.

Michael nodded, "What, Trev?"

"Um.  Well.  I've always kinda felt a certain way about you, but didn't
know what to call it, I don't think.  I didn't have anything else to
compare it to because I didn't feel that way about anyone else.  Ever."

Michael got those funny little chills, a lump in his throat, and could only
nod.

"But, when I went to school today totally supported on what I wanted to do,
encouraged to step up to and conquer another goal, I knew something was
different.  Everything was kind of the same, but it didn't look the same
anymore.  Well, I looked at it....um, from a different perspective.  Yeah,
perspective.  That's it."

He paused, and reached out and held Michael's hand.

"All of which sort of clarified a few things for me.  You've loved me for a
long time, and same for me to you.  I just didn't know to particularly call
it that.  Until now.  We've talked about caring for each other, protecting
each other, boylove, and we've said it in probably a couple dozen other
ways.  But it boiled down to........well....  I love you.  I've never told
you that before, so sorry.  My bad."

"Geeze," Michael croaked, and took a swallow of his cold beer to clear his
throat.

Trevor smiled sheepishly.

WAY too cute!

"Trev....you're right.  I have and I do now, love you too.  You're
wonderful to have around.  Always have been."

His boy hopped up and moved over and sat down sideways on one enchanted
boylover's lap.

"Plus, I can't eat these big pizzas all by myself either," Michael joked,
fidgeting and looking down a bit.

Trevor gave Michael a little, slow peck on the nose, and smiled.

"I know," he said.  "Damn, big ol' pizzas, anyways."