Date: Fri, 28 Dec 2007 19:00:43 -0800 From: Kevin <kevroc54321@tns.net> Subject: Saved By The Boy, Chapt 3 Saved By The Boy Chapt 3 ============================================================== As usual, please pay attention to the laws / statutes / etc for the area in which you reside with regard to reading this type of material. If you are not 18, you are supposed to exit now. If you are offended by gay themes, particularly cross-generation feelings, relationships, sex, stories about such, etc, you should also exit now. What is written here is not to be confused with a recommendation that you go out and emulate this story, or its generally fictionalized characters. Barring that, read on. =============================================================== As I sat at work the following Wednesday, I couldn't help but think about Nicky. You know what I mean. You try not to think about a boy you like, for all the many reasons you've listed out a dozen times, and yet somehow he's captured your attention. We all know that being "cute" or "good looking" or "handsome" is one of the first steps of being noticed or noticing someone else, but it is so far from being all there is about someone, especially a boy. After the initial "what a beautiful boy" data passes through your mind, you begin to notice that they're this way, or that way. That they hold themselves in such and such a manner, have this kind of poise, manners, etc, and after that it's just one thing after another that you find that you like about the boy. I have always had a weakness for seeing only the good in people I like. Perhaps it is the element of friendship, love, and understanding, and perhaps also added in there is that you tend to overlook or tolerate the less-wonderful attributes of someone that you like, or who's your friend. Nicky was tending to fall into that category pretty rapidly. It seemed that my mind went off on its own, categorizing all the wonderful traits and things about Nicky that I liked, admired, were sexy, or wonderful. I would imagine that I'm not too far off the beaten path, at least boy-lover-wise, and so you probably know what I mean. Have you ever wondered if the boy does the same thing? After all, if it begins to work out, bit by bit, then he must also like you, find things he can categorize as this or that, much in the same way that I've described above in how I regard the boy. In any event, it seemed that the more things I found, the week passed by more and more slowly. Ugh! Anyway, Saturday finally arrived and I ate breakfast, did a bit of early morning shopping for food, came back and cleaned the apartment a bit, and headed off to the park. When I got there, Nicky was already there, practicing away with a stick of his own. The closer I got, it became apparent that he'd been paying attention fairly well all along, and had also gone out to some local martials arts supply shop or dojo and gotten a "jo" of his own. Although I tried to be casual and pretend I wasn't watching him instead of locking up my car, walking fairly well, etc, I'm sure he noticed that I was indeed watching him and falling over myself a bit. He smiled slightly, although his attention never waivered from what he was doing. Leading me to further wonder if the boys in question have the same sort of reactions to me and thee that we do to them. I'm guessing that these suppositions all have a big, large, flashing-light "yes!" attached to them. It would only make sense. "Hi MIchael!" Nicky said, smiling big. "I' got my own jo now," showing me as he spoke. "Nice, NIcky, very cool. How'd your week go?" I asked. "Eh, not bad I guess. School, homework, chores around my grandma's house and shopping, some people are friends, others make it a point of talking sh..., uh, smack. Sort of a normal week.," he returned. I smiled. Nicky seemed to make a consistent point of being nice, presentable, smile, etc. To me, it showed true character instead of the usual drama that a teen could demonstrate. Practice went well, and for me it was good to get outdoors, catch a little of the sun's warmth, help a beautiful boy, as well as have the same boy be very good company. We finished about noontime, and I was starved, despite being distracted by Nicky's slightly sweat-soaked hair along the sides of his face. Unless I missed my guess, he was probably was hungry, too. "You up for a hamburger or something for lunch?" I asked. Nicky paused. "Hey," I quickly added, "it's on me. I was offering, so it's my treat. No paybacks necessary." "Sure," he smiled readily. "I'd love to. Your choice though," he added. We talked about all sorts of stuff - school, grades, my work, martial arts, Halloween costumes - and eventually the inevitable came up. "So, how's it going in the dating department? Any lucky girls?" I asked. He gave me a funny look, as he chewed a bit more slowly. "Michael, do you find that any great percentage of the boys that stain your couch have girlfriends?" he smiled with a mouthful of burger at me, nearly grinning. I'm sure I must've blushed. "Touche', mon ami, you're right. No, not a great deal of people who sit on my couch have girlfriends, much less decorate the couch as you mentioned," I replied. "Decorate? As in painting?" he mused, still smiling with a mouthful of burger. "That would make your hands that of an painter, and my leg the canvas and my other body part the brush, more or less." "Would you like some more fries?" I tried. Across the ensuing weekend, Nicky joked around about the time on the couch a couple more times. It was evident he enjoyed seeing me blush, or stammer, or something. But, it wasn't that exactly, it was more that he used it as some point of reference on someless less tangible that was transpiring between us. I was a bit less able or willing to joke around about it, unsure if it was going anywhere or perhaps more fearful that it wasn't, I guess. It could all just be boyish fun and games, harmless, yet fun for both sides. Another weekend came and went, all going well and about on the same course. Nicky liked to practice and learn, as well as hang out afterwards. I loved to teach, and loved his company. From any outside view, it was obvious we liked / respected / enjoyed each others' company. As well, if you'd asked either one of us if we liked the other, I was pretty sure the answer on both sides was a "yes." Over a hotdog and iced tea, Nicky looked at me intently as well as seeming to be thinking about something. "So if you like me," Nicky said, "how come we don't ever hang out. And I don't mean have a hot dog, which is great. I mean hang out, movie, um, whatever." "Nicky, I do like you. You're great company," I said in apology. "Really. We hang out before our practice, and after, and then you have to go home to your grandma's, right?" "Kinda," he returned. "But grandma doesn't have a time clock, and I have gone over to other friends' houses and stayed for a day, done a sleep-over, go to a movie with them, and she didn't care. As long as I take care of my responsibilities she's fine." He paused. "So what's the deal?" I was blank. There were scores of things to say but I couldn't voice a one of them. Nicky put his burger down, and swallowed so he could speak. He put a hand on mine, on the table. "Michael, I know you like me. In fact, I'm pretty sure you more than just like me, and I don't mean that your intent is just sex. I'm not dumb. I know you're gay. You know I am, I've admitted as much. I know you like younger guys, you've seen me every weekend for a month, both days. You've not mentioned another guy or a boyfriend once, not that I have. But if there was someone else you were interested in or seeing, I'd probably at least had a hint of it, right?" I nodded. "Ok. Cool. So. You like me but you're hesitant because of something. I don't even want to know what. You can tell me whenever you want, or not at all. But hear me. I like you too, ok? It'd be cool to sit with you and watch a movie on the t.v., eat some popcorn, and laugh a bit. That's my side of it." He paused again. "I've blabbed enough," he smiled. "Hey, Nicky," I recouped, "if you've nothing to do for a bit tonight, would you like to come over and watch a movie or two. We could have some popcorn," I smiled. "Why, I'd love to!" he smiled big. "What time?" "As early as you want. You tell me," I said. "Well, let's go by my place and I'll grab a couple things and tell grandma I'm gonna be out for a while, and we can go by and rent a couple movies. How is that?" he asked. "Great!" I said, genuinely happy. Nicky smiled back as big a I did. We whooshed by his grandma's, he brought a backpack with some personal effects, and we were off to rent a movie and then back to my place. We chit-chatted a bit on the way, but as soon as we hit my apartment, he dropped his stuff and made me do the same. "Ok, coach, let's shower," and he led me to the bathroom, closing the door behind us. I was both speechless and excited at the same time. Nicky pulled his shirt over his head and then reached for mine, me accomodating his doing the same for me. He smiled. I was in a daze, but he had us down to underwear fairly quickly. He then smiled at me, and nodded. I drew him into my chest and gave him and gentle, but long hug. He had his eyes closed, and was smiling slightly. It's one of those moments you want to last forever. Not to mention that we were both sporting considerable wood by this point. He looked up at me, "You ok," he asked. "Yup. You?" "Yeah, fine. But I'm cold, let's get the hot water going!" and he turned and bent over to start and adjust the water. Ulp! Damn! We both hopped in and got warm and soaped up, cleaning our bodies nicely, with an exchange of back scrubbing in the middle there somewhere. Sigh... He then got a funny gleam in his eye, and pushed me back toward the shower wall, making room for him to..... .....kneel! He winked at me, "I owe ya one, Michael." I started to protest, and he once again put his index finger to his lips, "Shhhh," and he smiled at me and went to work, causing me to have to support myself with the shower side walls. Without being overly graphic, he had both hands in play, went shallow and fast, long and deep, alternating wonderfully. "Nicky, I..... uh! Nicky....?!..." and he nodded that he knew I was going to cum, and sped up. I am a firm believer that sometimes words don't portray the event sufficiently, but they are the only word that it is. Cum, for example. I came. Oh, did I cum.... When I was done, he rinsed his face, rinsed out his mouth, and kissed me on the chest! I was still panting and weak. But, duty called. I knelt in front of Nicky, but he smiled and pulled me to my feet. "No need at the moment," he smiled. "I came while you were cumming. It was fun." He gave me a hug, and turned the water off. Grabbing the towels, he gave me one and began to dry himself off, too. I don't even remember what the movies were. Nicky wasn't "all over me", but rather just nuzzled in next to me like a little kid. It was so boyishly cute! He had a nice laugh, and liked to comment about things he understood about the characters in the movie. It was pretty cool. But, for me, the coolest thing was that Nicky knew exactly what barriers to knock down, and what ones to leave for now. It was almost like magic. If you look back at when you were 15, you were pretty smart, too, and you had a good perception of people. You could see good and bad, perhaps as well or better than now, and so it was with Nicky. He just seemed to have that gift with the barriers, which is just what I seemed to need. And that is how I was, when I'd nearly given up, Saved By The Boy. ============================================================== (responses can be sent to kevroc54321@tns.net. other stories include: The Love of My Life, Until Zory Came Along, Hands On My Heart, Save The Boy... all under Gay / Adult-Youth at Nifty's site) POST SCRIPT: although the characters are somewhat fictionalized, you can perhaps see in yourself the traits I've portrayed, whether as the man, or the boy. Someday, we'll all meet our Nicky, or for your younger readers, your Michael. I wish you the best. Thanks for reading.