Date: Sat, 31 Jan 98 10:26:29 -0600
From: Savoir-Faire <inkstain@earthlink.net>
Subject: Some Dumb Surfer Dude

     Okay folks, what follows is a work of fiction. This means that it
never happened. The characters portrayed are entirely fictional, and any
resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. If fictional
accounts of love between two teenage boys are not your thing, then you
probably should not read this. If you not old enough to be legally
considered an adult, you should also not be reading this.
     Please do not reproduce this story in any other form without my
permission. You may repost it to the original newsgroups, so long as my
pen-name and e-mail are included with it.
     I'd like to thank everyone who sent me comments about my first two
stories, Dangerboy and Find Your Own Way. The sheer volume of encouragement
you all sent was a large part of why I decided to write this. As before, if
you have any comments, constructive criticisms, or even if you just want to
say "Hi!" you can email me at inkstain@earthlink.net


Some Dumb Surfer Dude
by Savoir-Faire

     It was Sunday morning, 7:38am and I was getting close to orgasm. I was
jacking off through the fly of my boxers, an open bottle of hand lotion on
the night table by my bed. My balls had pulled up tight to my crotch, kind
of painfully, so I had to hold two fingers around the base of my cock to
keep them from vanishing entirely into my body. My hand slid quickly over
my cock, the combination of hand lotion and precum making a crackling,
smacking sound. I began to feel the orgasm build, and, then, gulping air
spasmodically, I came. The first shot went about six inches, and the rest
just sort of burbled out. When you jack off almost every day, you can't
exactly drill holes in the wall with your semen. After I was all unwound, I
lay back, breathing deeply, and sort of milked the rest out of my softening
cock.
     My name's Jesse. I'm fifteen. I live with my father in a kinda small
town in northern Colorado called Loveland. There's not much to do here, but
it's close to Fort Collins, which does have things to do. Actually, its
more of a small city than a small town, but there's still nothing to do. I
go to high school where I'm a senior, by which you can deduce that I'm
smarter than the average monkey. Or at least someone with some power thinks
I am. I skipped a lot of elementary school. What sucks is, I'm gonna start
college in the fall, and I still won't be able to drive.
     Where were we? Oh yeah.
     So, I recovered from the orgasm and carefully pulled the semen soaked
shirt over my head. I bundled it up and threw it into the laundry hamper,
then I tucked myself back into my boxers and went into the bathroom. A
couple minutes on the john and about ten in the shower and I was ready for
the day. I got dressed and blazed through the kitchen, grabbing a banana
and I was out the front door. I checked my watch: 7:58. I got my bike, and
stood by it, waiting. I checked my watch again: 8:00.
     The front door of the house next door opened and out came Zach. Zach
was eighteen, and one of my classmates. He was about the only person in
school who would acknowledge my existence. He probably wouldn't have,
except that about three years ago he got real sick. He's a jock, you see, a
swimmer. He's always had a tough time in school. Its not that he's dumb,
'cuz he's not. He's pretty smart. He just sometimes has trouble keeping his
attention on what he's doing. So, anyway, he got sick, and was going to be
out of school for two weeks. One of our teachers knew I lived next door,
and asked if I could take him his homework. I did, but at first he didn't
do any of it. There were finals coming up, and if he didn't pass he
wouldn't be able to swim for the team. He knew this, but he didn't seem to
care. He was just feeling sorry for himself. After about three days of
taking him homework, he started to get sort of abusive, calling me names
and all. Finally, I just blew up at him. I must have yelled at him for
twenty minutes straight, telling him he was hopeless, pathetic, and he
deserved to be taken off the team. He just kind of sat there and took it,
looking kinda shocked the whole time. When I was done, he apologized in a
kind of embarrassed voice. We got to talking, and we very quickly became
friends. For the next week and a half, I was at his house every afternoon
helping him with his homework. He not only passed the final, but he got an
A. We stayed friends. We never really hung out, and rarely did anything
like go to movies or whatever, but I would help him with homework when he
needed it, and he'd kind of look out for me at school. He also liked to
talk to me, to tell me his problems. I was sort of his bartender, I guess,
except that I only ever gave him Dr. Pepper. His own parents didn't listen
very well. They knew they had a jock son, and were proud of him as long as
he kept winning, but they didn't have time to listen to his problems. He
couldn't think of a way to tell then he was gay, so he told me. It was two
years later he returned the favor when I finally admitted that I was gay. I
told my father first, and he had a real tough time with it. It was almost
six months before things started to return to what passes for normal.
     About six months ago, Zach started running - in the middle of winter,
no less - and asked me to ride along on my bike and kind of pace him. Dad
liked that idea. He seems to think that if I hang around a jock it might
"fix" me. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I had it pretty bad for
this particular jock. Hell, I haven't even told Zach. I mean, yeah, we're
both gay, but that doesn't mean we're gonna end up together. I'm too young
for him to take seriously in that way, you know?
     So, that brings us back to now. Zach came out of his house and ran
over to me.
     "Hey," he said.
     "Hi. Ready?"
     "Yeah. You?"
     "I'm always ready."
     "Did I ever tell you how strange you are?"
     "At least once a day."
     He ran, I biked. To tell the truth, there was only one reason I went
along; I had a little odometer thingie on my bike. On weekdays we went two
miles out and two miles back. On weekends it was five out and back. Really,
he could have used landmarks to gauge the distance, but I think he liked
having someone to talk to. When we got to five miles he stopped and sat
down on the same bench he always sat on.
     "Hey, Jes..." he said.
     "Yeah?"
     "There's something I want to talk to you about."
     This was how he always started one of our talks about his
troubles. "What is it?"
     "It's kinda personal. You won't tell anyone?"
     "I never do."
     "I know. You know Shea? The new guy in history?"
     "The one with the hair?"
     "Yeah, him."
     "I've seen him. I don't know him."
     "Do you think he's, you know, like us?"
     "You mean does he run in the mornings with his next door neighbor
chasing him on a bike?"
     He laughed. "No, you know what I mean."
     Zach had never been comfortable mentioning his sexuality in anyplace
someone might hear him. "Yeah, I know. But I've never thought about it."
     "I think he is."
     "Why?"
     "I just have this feeling. Besides, Jeff said he was." Jeff was the
captain of the swim team.
     "Oh, yeah, Jeff's an authority."
     "Well, Jeff said he heard Shea tell someone that he was."
     "Where's this going?"
     "Well, don't you think he's kinda, you know, hot?"
     "Yeah, he's not bad, but have you noticed that his eyes are kinda
dull, like there's nothing behind them?"
     "He's having a bit of trouble in math."
     "Go figure."
     "Would you help him?"
     "Me? Why me?"
     "You're good at math."
     "Is that the only reason?"
     "Well, no."
     "I didn't think so."
     "I'd like to find out for sure if he is, you know. Before I try
anything."
     Those last four words ripped my heart out. I mean, I never expected
anything to happen with Zach, but before he just wasn't interested in
me. Now he was interested in someone else. And he wanted my help to win
him.
     Sometimes life really, really sucks.
     "But, what do you want me to do?"
     "You know, just kinda try to find out. But be, um, sneaky, or -- 
circumspect."
     "I don't know, Zach."
     "Please? I really like him. You're the only one who can help me."
     The thing is, when it comes to Zach, I'm a complete pushover. I can
refuse anyone else anything, just not Zach. So, it didn't surprise me at
all when I said, "All right, I'll see what I can do."
     Zach smiled. I hate it when he smiles too much. I get so stupid.
"You're the best," he said.
     So, the next day in school, I started thinking about how to bag Shea
for Zach. First of all, I wondered how likely it was that Shea was gay. I
figured it was possible; given that there were about three hundred
students, it was probable that at least three, if not more, were gay. Now,
as to whether Shea was...
     I observed him in history. I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I
was ready if I saw it. But I didn't see it. I mean, really, how can you
tell if someone is gay? Especially if they don't want it known. He didn't
seem to pay any particular attention to any of the girls, but he didn't pay
any particular attention to any of the guys either. Or the teacher, for
that matter. He was just kinda there, you know? Well, physically, anyway.
     I sort of shadowed him after class. He didn't have anything hanging in
his locker that would suggest anything out of the ordinary.
     I tried to find him the next passing period, but couldn't.
     After school, I went out front to go to my bike, but saw Shea sitting
on a bench. I decided to play like I was waiting for a ride, and sat on the
bench next to him. I had to admit, he was pretty hot. He was pretty tall
and slender, graceful when he moved, his hair was dyed black with a red
streak in it, kind of long on top, but short on the sides. His eyes were a
really pale shade of blue, almost gray, but they seemed sort of empty.
     A few minutes after I sat down, he turned to me and said "Hey, dude,
you know what time it is?" He was wearing a watch.
     I kind of bent down and looked at his watch. "3:12," I said.
     He looked down at his arm, and laughed. "Duh. I'd forget my head if it
wasn't -- something."
     I noticed his books. "You're in Algebra?"
     "Yeah."
     "How do you like it?"
     "I hate it."
     "Really? I always liked it."
     "Not me. I can't figure it out." He talked with a sort of lazy,
empty-headed drawl, kind of like Keanu Reeves in Bill and Ted, but not so
exaggerated.
     "Yeah, it can be kind of tough to get into, but once you get it, it
all makes sense."
     "You're in my, uh, history class, aren't you?"
     "Yeah. Mr. Lehrer, 4th hour."
     "Yeah. You're kinda young, aren't you?"
     "Yeah. Fifteen. I'm accelerated."
     "You're a senior?"
     "Yeah."
     "You must be really smart."
     "I guess."
     "Maybe you could help me?"
     "How?" This was working out pretty well.
     "Well, like, maybe you could help me with algebra."
     I smiled inside. "Maybe. What's in it for me?"
     "I don't know."
     "May be you could help me with something?"
     "Sure. Like, what?"
     "I'll tell you later. When do you want to start?"
     "Start what?"
     "Working on your homework." I said that kinda slow.
     "Oh, yeah, that. How about tonight. No time for presents, you know?"
     "Um, yeah." I wrote my phone number on a scrap of paper and gave it to
him. "Call me later on. We'll work things out."
     "Thanks. You know, you're pretty cool for a kid."
     I forced a smile. "Thanks."
     "So, like, are you waiting for someone? Because I could take you
home."
     "That'd be good."
     "Cool. My car's out there."
     "In the parking lot?"
     "Yeah."
     "Good place for it." We started to walk out to the lot. "What were you
waiting for?"
     "Nothing. I was just thinking."
     "What about?"
     "This play we're reading in English. It's called Othello. You know
it?"
     "Heard of it. Shakespeare, right?"
     "Yeah, him. See, there's this dude, Iago, and he's, like, trying to be
friends with Othello, he's a Moor, and he's just, like, using this guy
Cassio, who's already Othello's friend. He's, like, setting up Cassio so it
looks like he's fucking Othello's wife, so that he can get Cassio out of
the way. So, Iago, he's, like, this really evil guy. Do you think there are
any people like that?"
     "I know there are." We arrived at his car. It was a beat up old Chevy
Nova with California plates. "You from California?"
     "Yeah. Long Beach. You been there?"
     "Nope. Never been out of Colorado."
     "You should go sometime."
     We got into the car, and he drove me home. My bike was still at
school. I'd have to get Zach to take me in the morning. He owed me.
     I was awake late into the night. Somehow, Shea's Othello question was
bothering me. It seemed that the situation he described was a bit like what
I'd gotton myself trapped in. The only question was, was I Iago or
Cassio. Was I using Shea to get to Zach, or was Zach using me to get to
Shea? Or was it both?
     I was dead tired when my alarm went off. I dragged myself out of bed
and into the shower, then met Zach out front.
     "Hi," I said.
     "So?"
     "Contact."
     "Yeah? What did you find out?"
     "Nothing. He called last night and we're going to work on his Algebra
after school."
     "Where?"
     "The library."
     "Maybe I'll stop in and say hi."
     "Don't. Let me work on him a few days first."
     "A few days?"
     "Yeah, what did you expect? One phone call and he'd be in your bed?"
     He blushed. "No... I don't know. It's just that he's..."
     "Hot. I know. You'll have to be patient. Oh, yeah, can you take me to
school?"
     "Sure. Why?"
     "I forgot my bike yesterday."
     "How did you forget your bike?"
     "I didn't actually forget, I was just talking to Shea and he drove me
home."
     "Ohhhh." He smiled at me. "Good move. But, without your bike, how are
you gonna pace me?"
     "I was thinking I'd run with you."
     "It's four miles. You up to that?"
     "I bike it every morning."
     "Well, ok." He was smiling again.
     Okay, so it turned out that running was a bit different than biking. I
barely made it past one mile, and I walked home. I was sweating like a pig
and breathing like a locomotive. I had to take another shower. I hurt all
over.
     After school I waited in the library for about fifteen minutes. Shea
was nowhere to be seen. I gathered by books and went out front. He was
there on the same bench.
     "Shea," I said.
     He looked over, and, seeing me, smiled broadly. He had a great
smile. "Hey, dude."
     "Where've you been?"
     "Huh?"
     "We were going to work on algebra."
     "Was that today?"
     "Yes. That was today."
     "Sorry, dude. I forgot."
     "I figured."
     "So, let's do it, yeah?"
     "What, here?"
     "Yeah."
     "Well, okay." We got out the books and went to work. It was an uphill
battle, but after a while I detected a hint of progress. He wasn't quite as
dumb as he seemed, though that's not saying much. The trick was phrasing
something in a way he could understand it. Once something got into his
brain, he seemed quite able to retain it and even apply it to other things
in an intuitive manner. So, he was starting to understand, starting to
connect a and b, or x and y, which would be more appropriate, when, with
the best of intentions, disaster struck.
     "Hey, Jes." It was Zach. He was walking down the sidewalk toward the
parking lot.
     "Hey Zach." I sounded cheerful, but I gave him a look that would kill
a horse at 20 paces.
     "We running tomorrow?"
     "Yeah. See you then, okay?"
     "Okay." He picked up on the look and walked away.
     "Who was that guy?" asked Shea.
     "That was Zach. He's my next door neighbor."
     "Oh." Shea watched Zach walk away with what seemed to be more than a
passing interest. "He's in history, too, isn't he?"
     "Yeah. So, you got a girlfriend?"
     "Uh, no."
     "In between?"
     "No. I never had a girlfriend."
     "Really? A guy who looks like you, and you've never had a girlfriend?"
     "No."
     "Why not?"
     "I don't know. Just never really wanted one, I guess."
     "'Cuz with your looks, you could have anyone you want." He
unconsciously glanced in the direction Zach had gone. Bingo. "I could
introduce you, if you want."
     "Huh?"
     "Zach. I could introduce you to Zach. If you want." He looked at
me. It was a scared look, hiding behind a mad look.
     "Do you think I'm a fag?"
     "I only said I could introduce you."
     "I'm not a fag!" He stood. He looked really scared.
     "Look," I said, standing up, but I didn't get the chance to finish. He
hit me, right in the face, then he ran away. Once I regained my wits, I
gathered my books and rode home.
     As I turned into the driveway, Zach stuck his head out his door.
"Jes!"
     "What?" I let myself sound about as mad as I was.
     "Look, I'm sorry about today. I just wanted to..." He stopped as I
turned around. "Shit, what happened to your eye?"
     "Shea hit me."
     "Why?"
     "I scared him."
     "Um, come inside. Let's get some ice on that." I followed him into his
house. We went to the kitchen and he got a ziplock bag. While he was
filling the bag with ice, he asked "Does it hurt?"
     "I'm going to give you about thirty seconds to think about that one."
     He laughed. "Kinda dumb question, huh?" He zipped up the bag and came
over to me. "Okay, hold your head back and close your eyes." I did. He put
one hand on the back of my head, and, with the other, carefully placed the
bag on my eye. I winced. "Yeah, it stings, right?" I nodded. "But if you
don't hold it there you'll swell up." I put my hand on his, and he
carefully pulled his away and let go of my head. "Do you want a coke or
something?"
     "Yeah. Coke sounds good."
     He set a can down on the table and sat in the chair next to me. He
looked at me for a moment, then said "I'll kill him. I'll fuckin' kill
him."
     "Thanks, but don't. It was my fault."
     "You threw your face into his fist?"
     "No, but..."
     "No 'but' about it. He didn't have any reason to hit you."
     "I think he's gay."
     Zach was quiet for a moment. "I don't care anymore."
     "Yes, you do. But thanks."
     Another moment. Then, looking a little ashamed "Yeah, I do. So, you
think he is?"
     "I think so. He was sort of watching you, like, really watching you
when you walked past."
     "Really?"
     "Yeah. When I offered to introduce him to you, he got scared, and
that's when he hit me."
     "So, what do we do next?"
     "I'm not sure. That's going to depend on how he acts towards me
tomorrow."
     "Okay. Listen, do you want to stay for dinner? We're just gonna get a
pizza, but we could watch a movie, or something."
     "Yeah." I smiled. "I'd like that."
     The next morning we ran again. This time I didn't bother taking a
shower until afterwards.
     Shea wouldn't look at me during history, and avoided me in the
halls. After school, as I was unlocking my bike, he came up to me.
     "Hey, Jesse."
     I decided to play it up a bit. I held out my hands in a defensive pose
and said "Look, man, don't hit me. I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything," all
the while backing away from him.
     "No, stop. I'm not going to hit you. I just want to talk to you."
     "You swear?"
     "Yeah."
     "Well, okay."
     "Can we go somewhere? I don't want to talk here."
     "Like where?"
     "My place?"
     "I don't know..."
     "Look, I'm not going to hurt you. I promise."
     "All right."
     He drove us to his house. I was a short, but quiet and tense drive.
The house was kind of small, and there were half emptied boxes all over.
His room was tidy and well ordered. The bed was even made. There were
posters of surfers on the walls, and a surfboard standing in the corner. He
sat on a large wicker chair. I sat on the bed.
     "You surf?" I asked.
     "Not anymore." He sounded a little bitter about that.
     "Yeah, I guess there's really no place to surf here."
     "No. Look, if I tell you something," he started, "will you swear not
to tell anyone?"
     "As long as you're not going to confess to a murder, or something."
     "No, nothing like that. It's just, you seem pretty cool, like you can
handle what I want to tell you."
     "What is it?"
     "Well, first, I'm really sorry I hit you. I didn't really have any
reason to. I feel real bad about it."
     "Okay. Apology accepted."
     He smiled. "Really? You mean it?"
     "Yeah. Now, what were you going to tell me?"
     He looked down at his feet. "Well, it's kinda personal, and I just
wanted to tell you so you'd understand maybe why I hit you."
     "Go on..."
     "Well, it's just that I'm gay, okay? I'm not coming on to you, so
don't be afraid of that. It's just that when you said you could introduce
me to your friend, I thought you might have thought I was gay, and that
you'd tell everyone. If you don't want to help me anymore, or if you hate
me, I understand"
     Bullseye. I reached out and put a hand on his knee. "I don't hate
you. And I'll still help you."
     "Really?" he asked, cautiously.
     "Yeah, really."
     "You're so cool."
     "Well, it's not that, really." I decided I'd manipulated him too much
for one day, and by way of penance, I said "I'm gay too."
     "Dude, no way! Are you serious?"
     "Yeah."
     "This is so awesome! Do you have a boyfriend?"
     "No."
     "Me neither. Maybe we could go out sometime."
     "Yeah, maybe."
     "Cool." He smiled. "I've never had anyone I could just talk to,
without, you know, thinking first. I don't want to, like, rush you, but do
you want to go out tonight? There's this band playing at the park."
     This situation was starting to snowball out of control. I had
accomplished everything I was supposed to. Dating Shea was not on my
agenda, and even sort of worked against the interests that had started all
this.
     "Yeah, okay," I said. To Hell with my agenda. I had a life too.
     He took me back to the school, and, after arranging to meet him near
the statue at 7:00, I went home. It was a little after four. I was having
second thoughts. I mean, I really loved Zach. Shea... I don't know. I don't
think I loved him, at least not really. He had a sort of lost puppy appeal,
you know, the kind that is fun for a while, but starts to get annoying.
Besides, only yesterday he'd punched me in the face. As I was laying on my
back on my bed pondering this, the phone rang. I went out into the hall and
answered.
     "Hello?"
     "Hello, Jes?"
     "Yeah. Hi Zach."
     "So?"
     "So, what?"
     "How'd it go? I saw him drop you off. You looked pretty happy."
     "Yeah. He's making good progress."
     "Progress?" He sounded confused.
     "Yeah, Algebra. I've had to pound things into his head, but once
they're in, he's pretty good at retaining them."
     "You know what I'm asking."
     "Yeah, I'm just messing with you."
     "So, are you going to tell me?" He sounded ready to burst.
     "Well, I'm not sure yet. There are some pretty strong signs that he's
gay, though." I figured that him telling me he was gay was a pretty good
sign. "We're going to the park to hear some band tonight. I should be able
to tell you more in the morning."
     "Wait, you're going out with him?"
     "No," I lied. "we're just going to hear the band. It'll give me
another chance to talk to him."
     "Sorry. I sounded jealous, didn't I?"
     "Yeah. Look, if I was after someone for myself, it wouldn't be Shea."
Which was true enough. I mean, while, yes, I was going out with Shea
tonight, he'd made all the moves.
     "So," he said slyly, "is there someone you're interested in?"
     "Yes."
     "Who is it?"
     "You'll never know."
     "Oh come on, tell me."
     "No way."
     "Why not?"
     "Because it's hopeless. He'll never be interested in me."
     "You never know."
     "Trust me. I know."
     "Well, okay. Call me when you get back, okay?"
     "It might be late. I'll tell you when we're running."
     "All right. Try not to have too much fun, okay?"
     "Don't worry about it."
     "I'll try. See you in the morning."
     "Right. Bye."
     The band was pretty bad. They didn't keep good time, and all of their
songs sounded pretty much the same. As the evening went by, the crowd
thinned. After the band finally relented, we drove through McDonalds and
got cherry pies, then we drove around aimlessly, talking. We ended up in
the school parking lot, debating the merits of McDonalds fries versus
Wendy's fries. I was supporting McDonalds, and Shea steadfastly championed
Wendy's. We both agreed that the new Burger King fries weren't worth
mentioning. The argument ran it's course and we lapsed into silence,
contentedly munching on our cherry pies.
     He turned to me. "Hey." Pie crumbs flew from his mouth and all over
me. He laughed. "Sorry, dude."
     "Jeez, you got crumbs all over me."
     "Yeah, I did, didn't I?" He started brushing crumbs from my shirt, and
my pants, and my face. His hand stayed on my shoulder, his fingers sort of
idly rubbing my neck. "Thanks for going tonight, dude. It meant a lot to
me. Sorry the band sucked so bad."
     "No, I had fun. I mean, yeah, they sucked, but it was a good time." To
this day I do not know why, but I leaned across the seat and kissed him. He
almost seemed to be expecting it. As I moved towards him, he closed his
eyes and moved out to meet me. Our lips met. I pulled away. "Jeez, um, I
didn't--" I got out of the car and started walking away. He followed.
     "Jesse! What's wrong?"
     "Um, look, I didn't mean to do that. I mean--" He ran up beside
me. "That just sort of happened. I'm sorry."
     "No, don't be sorry. It was good."
     "No, you don't understand. I can't do this."
     "Jesse, please! Don't go. It's okay. You're someone special. I want
to be with you."
     "Please, Shea, just let it pass. Pretend it never happened"
     "No! Look, you're like, the only one who ever gave a damn about me.
Everyone else thinks I'm just some dumb surfer dude. But you -- you helped
me. You made me think that maybe I'm not so dumb. You cared enough to try
to teach me something. And you did. I'm learning. Do you know what that
feels like? It feels good. And it's your doing. I want to be with
you. Jesse, I want to be with you."
     "But--" I couldn't think. He put his arm around me. I started to
settle into his side, then realized what I was doing and broke away from
him. "I can't, Shea. I just can't. Please don't--" I was actually crying,
sobbing like a baby. And I wasn't acting.
     "No, don't cry. Don't cry. I'm sorry. I'm pushing you too hard. I'm
sorry."
     I stood about five feet away from him, facing away. What was it with
me? "Shea?"
     "What?"
     "I have been so lonely my whole life." I sort of laughed. "Listen to
me.  I'm only fifteen and I'm talking about 'my whole life.' But it's true.
I'm too smart. That's the problem. I'm threw years ahead of everyone else
my age, and three years behind my peers. I don't have a place." I managed
to get that out through the tears. I don't know what had come over me, but
it was like every tear I'd ever refused the shed had come back to me.
     "You don't have to be lonely anymore." I turned, and he walked up the
me. "I'll be your friend. I'll be your lover." He enfolded me in his
arms. I buried my face in his neck and let myself cry. "I'll be whatever
you let me be." I wanted so badly to be with him.
     I don't know how long we stood there, arms around each other, in the
middle of the parking lot where anyone who happened to drive by could see
us.
     Sometime later, he dropped me off at my house. As I was walking past
the living room, my dad's voice said "Jesse?" I looked into the living
room. He was sitting on the couch, just putting down a magazine.
     "Yeah, Dad?"
     "Can we talk?"
     "Sure." I went in and sat down on a chair.
     "I've been doing some thinking. About you."
     "Me?"
     "Yes. I'd think it would be a good idea if the two of us were to see a
psychologist, maybe a couple times a month."
     "Dad, it's not gonna--"
     "I know. This is for me. I've been having a very hard time accepting
that you're -- gay. I've tried to come to grips with it, but I can't. Not
without help. What do you think?"
     "I think it's a really good idea."
     "Good. For the last year it's been like we were just two people who
shared a house. I want us to be father and son again. I wish your mother
was still with us. She had a way of helping me understand anything. She
would have made this so much easier."
     "I miss her too." I got up and put my arms around him. After a moment,
he returned the hug. I had no tears left, otherwise I would have been
bawling again. "And I want to be father and son too."
     We separated. He looked at the clock and said "Well, we can start with
me telling you not to come in at 11:45 on a school night again."
     I smiled. "Yes, sir."
     "Now, go to bed."
     "Good night."
     It was another sleepless night. I couldn't make any sense out of my
feelings. I loved Zach. I loved him more than anyone I'd even known. I
couldn't say if I loved Shea or not. It seemed like I did, but I wasn't
sure. Zach liked me, but that was it. To him, I was just a friend. Zach
wanted Shea. Sure, it was only lust. He couldn't love Shea, he didn't even
know him. Shea wanted me. Did he love me? He might have. It sounded like he
did. Or was he just happy to have someone to talk to?
     The only thing I was certain about was that I loved Zach. Zach wanted
Shea, so I would see to it that he got him.
     In the morning I pretended to be sick. Dad called the school and went
to work. A couple of minutes after eight, the doorbell rang. It was Zach.
     "You're late," he said.
     "I'm sick. I'm not going to school."
     "Oh. Well, I hope you feel better."
     "Yeah, I will. You want to come in for a minute?"
     "You're not contagious, are you?"
     "Not unless apathy is catching."
     "Ah, I see how it is." He came in. I closed the door, and we went into
the kitchen, where I poured myself a bowl of Cheerios.
     "Shea's gay," I said, and took a bite of my cereal.
     "You're sure?" He sounded so hopeful.
     "Positive."
     "How do you know?"
     "He told me."
     "He told you? How'd you get him to do that?"
     "It was part of his apology for hitting me."
     "This is so great. What would I do without you?"
     You never do anything with me, I thought.
     He looked thoughtful for a moment, then he said, "So, what do we do
from here?" He had a kind of apprehensive look, but an excited look. Maybe
like an explorer on the edge of an unknown land.
     "I need to think about it. Don't do anything today, ok? There's a
couple of loose ends from last night I need to tie up."
     "Loose ends?"
     "Yeah. Please don't ask."
     "What is it, Jes?"
     "Thanks for not asking."
     "There's something you're not telling me, isn't there?"
     "Duh."
     "What's going on?"
     "Nothing. And I'm trying very hard to keep it that way."
     "What do you mean?"
     I sighed. "I'd rather not talk about it."
     "You're kinda scaring me here, Jesse. What's going on?"
     "Okay," I relented. "It's like this -- I -- kind of -- kissed him."
     "You what?!"
     "I didn't mean to. It just sort of happened. I'm sorry."
     He laughed, a sort of angry laugh. "It just happened, huh? I'm gonna
be late." He got up and walked out. As he went out the front door he said
"Thanks for all your help." He was not happy.
     The day was pretty miserable; I might as well have been at school. I
watched TV all morning, but my mind wouldn't let me concentrate on what I
was watching. Probably not such a bad thing, though. Have you ever watched
morning television? In the early afternoon, I tried jacking off, but I just
wasn't into it. About three-thirty, the phone rang.
     "Hello?"
     "Hello. May I speak to Jesse?"
     "Shea, is that you?"
     "Yeah. Hey, dude, you weren't in school."
     "No."
     "You okay?"
     "Sort of. Did I miss anything?"
     "Yeah. That dude Zach, you know, your friend?"
     "Yes?"
     "Well, after school, he told me he was gay, you know?"
     "Yeah."
     "Did you know he was gay?"
     "Yeah. He told me a couple years ago."
     "So there's, like, three of us."
     "Yep."
     "Hey, would you mind if Zach and I did something together? You know,
like, see a movie or play hockey or something?"
     "No, go ahead. You could even do other things. If you want."
     "What do you mean?"
     "Well, you and I aren't actually going out, so..."
     "You want me to go out with him? Like, go out, for real?"
     "Yeah. You'll like him."
     "But, what about you? I thought--"
     "I'm more like your little brother. I want you to be my friend. Look,
you said you'd be anything I let you be, and this is what I'll let you be.
I don't want to be your lover," which might have been a lie, "and I don't
want to go out with you. Just be my friend, okay? That's the best you can
do for me."
     "Are you sure? I mean, I really like you. I think I love you."
     "You don't love me. You've only known me a couple of days. Give Zach a
chance. He's worth it."
     "Dude, please--"
     "No. Please don't argue."
     "I can still talk to you? We can do things?"
     "Sure. We're friends. I can help you with your homework and all."
     "Well, okay." He was trying to hid his disappointment, but he wasn't
doing very well.
     "Hey, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
     "All right. Tomorrow. Bye."
     "Bye."
     I put the phone down and went into my room. Laying on my bed, I wanted
to cry, but I refused to allow it.
     Because I loved Zach, I had led him into the arms of someone who loved
me. Life was just one big cosmic joke. Trouble was, no one knew the
punchline, so we all just had to make it up as we went. Usually, it wasn't
funny.
     The next morning I got up at the usual time and went out, only to see
Zach, already running, turning the corner at the end of the street. In
history, Zach pretty much ignored me, and Shea, looking like a kicked
puppy, just kind of stared at me. After school, I saw Zach and Shea walking
out to the parking lot, talking, laughing, just having a good time. I rode
home alone, again refusing to let myself cry.
     Several days passed. Zach started talking to me again, but he was
distant. Shea and I continued working on algebra. About a week after my
sick day, Shea and I were sitting on our usual bench, when, in the middle
of working on an equation, he closed his book, and gave me an odd sort of
look.
     "What?" I asked.
     "I don't get you."
     "It's not that hard. You just have to divide x by two..."
     "No," he interrupted. "I don't get you."
     "How do you mean?"
     "Well, I've been, like, talking to Zach a lot. He doesn't see it, but
it's, like, pretty obvious to me that you like him. Am I right?"
     "Go on," I said evenly.
     He smiled. "I am right, aren't I?" I didn't say anything. "Yeah, I'm
right. And that's why I can't figure you out."
     "What can't you figure out?"
     "You. You pretty much forced me to go out with him. Why would you want
someone else to go out with someone you want to go out with?"
     "All right, can you keep a secret? And I mean it."
     "Sure."
     "Okay, I..." I took a deep breath. "I fell in love with Zach almost
two years ago. He saw you, and he wanted you, and I want him to have
whatever he wants. Do you know what I'm saying?"
     "Yeah. You want him to be happy."
     I smiled. "Yeah. That's it. I want him to be happy. It sounds so
simple that way, but that's just what it is."
     "Even if you're not."
     "I'll get over it. He's just not interested in me, you know. Not as a
boyfriend, I mean."
     "Did you ever tell him how you feel?"
     "What? No."
     "Then how do you know he's not interested?"
     "Well, I--"
     "Hah! You don't know."
     I looked at my feet. "Yeah. I don't know. Doesn't matter now, anyway."
I stood up. "I'm sorry, I can't do any more math today. Same time Monday?"
     "Yeah. Cheer up, guy. Things'll get better."
     "That would be nice."
     The next day was Saturday. Dad was in Denver at some sort of
conference, and the house was quiet. It was about eight in the morning and
I was awake. I could never sleep in, even when I wanted to. I was laying on
my back, slowly kneading my soft cock, thinking about jacking off, when
there was a knock at the door. I put everything away, and went downstairs.
It was Zach.
     "Hi," he said.
     "Hi."
     "Do you, uh, wanta run?"
     "You mean it?"
     "Yeah."
     "Sure." I smiled. "I have to get dressed. You wanna come in?"
     "Yeah." He followed me upstairs.
     When we got to my room, he said "I have been such an asshole to you."
     I just looked at him, surprised. "You have?"
     "Yeah. This last week. You told me you kissed him and I instantly
thought the worst. I am really sorry."
     "That's okay."
     "I am so stupid."
     "No, it's okay, really."
     "Shea and I had a long talk last night. You know, he's not half as
dumb as he seems."
     "Yeah, I know."
     "He told me about the kiss."
     "He did?"
     "Yeah. He said you kissed him, but you didn't mean to." He looked at
the floor, and, in a quiet voice said, "You know, he would have done
anything with you that night. You could have had him. He could have been
yours, but you gave him to me. And I pretty much thought you had betrayed
me. You've been my friend for three years. You'd think I would have known
you better."
     "Hey, don't be so hard on yourself. It's only a few days. All friends
fight sometimes."
     He looked at me, a quizzical look. "Two years, huh?"
     "What?"
     "Two years. That must have been real hard for you. Me, like the dummy
I am, never noticing."
     "Shit. Did he tell you?"
     "He never actually told me, but he did everything but tell me."
     I started to turn red. "Um, Zach--"
     "Don't say anything. You'll spoil the moment."
     "But, what about Shea?"
     "Shea's a nice guy, but he loves someone else, and he wants him to be
happy." He sat down on the bed next to me. "I didn't realize it before, but
so do I."
     "Zach?"
     "Oh, sure the sex was great. I mean, Shea gives great blow jobs." He
was smiling wickedly at me. "He said mine were pretty good too, but I'm not
sure. I was thinking I could maybe get your opinion on that" That last
sentence sounded a bit shy.
     I was having a bit of trouble thinking. I could have sworn that Zach
was coming on to me, but I know that could never happen. I looked at him,
and I know my confusion showed "I'm sorry. I'm not understanding. Are you
saying that--"
     "You are the best thing that ever happened to me. Three years now, and
I've always taken you for granted. You've helped me with school, you've run
with me. You always put me before yourself. And I never noticed."
     "I don't mind. I liked helping you."
     "Look, three years ago you just blew up at me. You, like, yelled at me
for an hour or more. I was really impressed. Maybe it's time for you to do
that again."
     I laughed. "You're doing a pretty good job of it yourself. But don't."
     "What I'm trying to say is that I love you."
     I was stunned. "You--"
     "Yes. I love you. I always have. I was just too dumb to know it. But I
thought about it last night. Real late. I thought about what my life would
be like if you weren't here, and I couldn't picture it. I was afraid to
picture it." He put a hand on my thigh, and leaned down to kiss me. I
closed my eyes, and moved to meet him. We kissed. His hand held the back of
my head, and we slowly fell back onto the bed. I was on my back, he was to
my side, leaning over me. The kiss continued. Our tongues danced. His one
hand held my head, the other slid under my shirt and ran lightly over my
chest. He pulled back and slipped his shirt over his head. He was
gorgeous. His chest was nicely developed, but still smooth. He had, not
surprisingly, a swimmer's build. I took my shirt off, revealing my own
scrawny chest, and Zach bent down and kissed my belly button. His hands
started tugging at my boxers. He stopped and looked up at me.
     "Any time you want me to stop," he said, "just tell me, and I will. No
questions, no complaints."
     "Okay. But don't stop yet."
     He smiled up at me and with a quick yank, the boxers were off. He
dragged his tongue along the length of my rapidly hardening cock, and my
whole body shivered. Then he had my cock in his mouth, blowing me like I'd
never been blown before, which was easy enough, as I'd never been blown
before. But, first time or no, it was the most intense experience of my
life. When I came, I thought I'd shoot my balls through the back of his
head.
     He let me recover my breath, and then he said "More?"
     "Yeah," I said, smiling. "I want you to do everything to me."
     "Everything?" he asked, rubbing a finger over my butthole.
     "Everything." I reached down by the side of my bed, and tossed him the
bottle of hand lotion. He stood, and took off his shorts and
boxers. Finally I saw him naked. He was beautiful. He was already erect,
and the size of it was a bit daunting. He pumped some lotion onto his hand
and rubbed it onto his cock.
     I lay on my back on the bed. Zach knelt between my raised knees, his
erect cock glistening. He was flushed. He looked anxious. I felt the head
of his cock against my hole.
     He looked up at me and said "This is going to hurt at first. Maybe
pretty bad." His voice was unsteady.
     "I trust you." My voice shook as well. "but be..."
     "Gentle?"
     "Yeah."
     He sort of leaned over me, putting a hand on the bed on each side of
me, and started lowering himself into me. At first it just felt tight, but
as he went further in, it began to hurt. I inhaled through my teeth, which
made a sort of hissing sound. He stopped. "Keep going," I said, but he
could hear the pain in my voice.
     "You sure?"
     "Yes. I'll get used to it."
     He started pushing again. I bit down and took the pain. And then he
was all the way inside me. He pulled out slowly and went back in. "This is
incredible, Jes," he breathed. He started going faster. It hurt more, but I
started feeling a tingle from within. My intellectual side told me it was
prostate, but the rest of me told my intellectual side to shut the fuck
up. As he fucked me faster and faster, the pain started to fade, and the
tingling spread. I reached up and pulled him down. He went down on his
elbows, his body lurching just above mine. I wrapped my legs around the
small of his back. We both were sweating, he was grunting with every
thrust, I was whimpering. I took his face in my hands, and kissed him. I
kissed his lips, his eye, his neck, his forehead. His face was red, he
looked strained, and his grunting went higher in pitch. His thrusting
slowed. "Oh, Jes," His voice was strangled. A couple more thrusts and he
let out a loud, wordless gasp, and he came. His face a twisted parody of
pain and pleasure, he took several more long thrusts, and then I came. My
back arched, my head back, I writhed silently under him.
     As our orgasms faded, he slowly collapsed on top of me, then he rolled
over, so I was laying on top, sealed to him with semen and sweat. My body
molded itself to his, my head resting on his chest. I could hear his
heartbeat, his breathing, other body noises. I felt like a part of him, my
limp body rising and falling with his every breath.
     He put one arm over my back, and ruffled my hair with his other
hand. "How was it?" he asked.
     "Best thing ever."
     He raised his head and kissed the top of my head. "You were terrific."
     "Shea's right, you know."
     "What about."
     I kissed his nipple. "You give great blowjobs."
     "Thanks. You're a pretty good fuck." I punched him, not too
hard. "Oww!" He laughed.
     I worked my arms beneath him and squeezed him tightly. "I love you,
Zach."
     "I love you too."
     "Can we just stay like this for a while?"
     "As long as you want."
     "I want it to be forever."
     "Well," he said, "maybe not forever. But for a while, anyway. We have
to eat sometime."
     "If I have you, I don't need anything else."
     He laughed. "I don't deserve you."
     "No, but you got me."
     He rubbed his hands down my back, over my ass, all over my body, then
he put his arms around my shoulders, and took a deep breath, then let it
out. After a few minutes of silence, he was asleep. I carefully looked up
at his face. He looked so content. I put my head back down, and fell asleep
in his arms.