Date: Thu, 25 Feb 2010 16:03:34 -0800 (PST)
From: John Gerald <connectwriter@yahoo.com>
Subject: Peter's Story 6

I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Let me know what you think.  J



Marty looked down on the sleeping figure.  He thought he saw Peter's body
jerk when he kissed him, but maybe it was just his own anxiety.  Which now,
suddenly, seemed to increase a thousand fold?

What had he done?

He looked around the room, reassuring himself that he was still the only
person there as the hum of the aquarium pump seemed to suddenly become much
louder, and its light much brighter. Everything seemed to be active, loud
and alive, an explosion of activity that was a radical change to the calm
and peace that he had felt only moments before.

His sudden sensitivity gave him new eyes as he glanced down again at Peter.
He had always felt such strong friendship with him but now realized that he
had tried to block awareness of anything more than that.  At this moment,
however, he couldn't help noticing how incredibly beautiful this guy was,
as the soft light accentuated even further the strong features of his face.

But he couldn't help thinking how vulnerable he looked, too.  The way the
light accentuated his sharp angular cheeks and chin made him look studly,
but also thin, maybe too much. Even though the modeling industry seems to
like that chiseled look, he knew Peter wouldn't get thin for the sake of
vanity.  Maybe another side effect of the premature birth, maybe it
affected his appetite, Marty thought.

At least he was sleeping on his good ear tonight, so Marty felt confident
of undisturbed rest. But what about in the long term?  With all his health
issues, and Peter's stubborn determinatio, someone needed to watch out for
this guy.

But it couldn't be him, not now or in the future. He looked at Peter again
and whispered, "I can't do this to you Peter.  I can't."

Drawing a deep breath as he blinked rapidly, he collected his backpack and
jacket as the sweat starting to form around his collar.  Normally the most
dexterous of athletes, he almost tripped over the desk chair as he reached
over to shut the window shades.

Finally, after stepping out of the room as quietly as he possibly could, he
slowly turned the handle until he felt the latch catch without a sound.

					*****

As Peter woke up the next morning he glanced up at the clock.  "10:00!" he
thought to himself.  "Wow, I probably slept for 9 or 10 hours straight!'

Peter brought his head back down to the pillow, trying to savor what was
left of the best dream that he ever had.

He couldn't even remember saying goodnight to Marty, all he could remember
of conscious time was feeling his presence in the room, in the chair only
an arms length away. But the dream about Marty, it was so darn real. Even
though he couldn't remember all the details of what it was about, he did
remember the part about being kissed!

The thought invigorated and scared him at the same time.  Now he was
dreaming of kissing him! He truly was way over the edge with his feelings -
he almost couldn't face what it would be like if Marty's heart wasn't in
the same place.  Which he had no reason to believe was even possible.

After a few minutes of rumination, he pulled the covers off of himself and
got of bed.  As he got up he felt a sharp pull on his pubic hair, like
something was caught on his skin.  The pain was doubly strange in the he
didn't wake up with his usual erection, which sometimes tugged on his
underwear in a similar way.

He pulled on the front elastic to try to get some relief when he realized
that it was actually stuck to his skin.  It took him a moment to realize
what had happened - then he just sighed and rolled his eyes.

It had been a wet dream.  His first in years.

Putting on a pair of loose fitting sweatpants, he was about to get himself
to the bathroom as inconspicuously as possible when he heard chimes from
his cell phone, which meant someone in his family was calling.

He looked at the screen and saw a picture of Bik and his wife.  Realizing
that he hadn't been very good about keeping in touch for the past few
weeks, he decided to answer it in spite of wanting to clean up the
'accident.'

"Hey, bro!"  Peter answered as he reached inside his pants, adjusting the
cum-dried underwear so that he could sit more comfortably back on the bed.
"What's up?"

"Well stranger, I was about to ask you the same question.  Where have you
been?  We all thought you had been kidnapped, or you ran off to Bolivia for
the winter."  Bik said it with a chuckle, but the meaning was clear.

 "Sorry, Bik. I've just been so wrapped up in stuff at the end of the
semester that I haven't had time to call.  I hope Pop and Dad aren't
worried or anything.  Nothing much is happening, just lots of studying and
all to do."

"No, no, I think they're fine.  But you're usually pretty good about
calling and emailing, so even missing a day or so starts up the alarm
bells, at least for Dad and Pop."

They talked a bit more about Peter's temporary reclusiveness, with Bik
gently chiding him once again about keeping in touch, but there was no more
said about it as their conversation ambled on to other subjects.

"By the way, I have one more thing that I wanted to talk to you about,
Peter."

It was an odd statement to hear from Bik, and sounded ominous.
Instinctively, he braced himself for bad news.

"Well, you'll be pleased to know that your eldest brother and his wonderful
wife Laura are scheduled to provide Pop and Dad with their first
grandchild," he said with a forced calmness that belied his excitement and
pride.

Ignoring his underwear problem, Peter jumped out of the bed and started to
pace the room, a habit he had when he was trying to concentrate fully.  "Oh
wow! Bik, that's so great!  I'm so happy!"  He hadn't put in his hearing
aid yet, so he pressed the phone tight to his good ear.  "How is Laura?
When? How?...oops, forget that last question!"  Peter said as they both
laughed.

"Hold on, bro! " Bik said with a laugh.  "One question at a time!"

He explained what they knew so far. He emphasized that it was still early
in the pregnancy, so things could go wrong.  "But at least it's a start,"
he said, as Peter could picture the smile on his brother's face.

"And Laura is fine.  I'd put her on the phone, but she's um...indisposed in
the way that women sometimes get when they are pregnant.  But you'll get to
talk soon."

They both laughed again as the brothers continued to chat.  Bik filled him
up on other news in the family, including their cousin Todd splitting up
with his girlfriend, brother Robert's new job, and other bits and pieces of
family gossip.

In spite of the good news from his brother, though, and the other important
things happening in the family, he couldn't quite get the Marty issue out
of his head.  It was too complicated to go into now with Bik, or anyone for
that matter.  Besides, it could be so pointless - especially if this guy he
liked wasn't even gay!

"Hey Peter, one more thing." Bik said, his tone again more serious.

"Yea?" Peter answered, surprised by the switch in mood.

"Is something on your mind?  I can tell you're distracted," he said,
catching him completely off guard.  "I don't mean to pry or anything, but
with you not calling or emailing, and now just talking to you and
listening...I think something...might be bothering you, that's all."

Peter hesitated before responding.  "Um...no, I'm OK, You know, like I said
earlier (he was momentarily proud of himself for sticking to his story)
it's just finals and all the pressure for the exams and all... You remember
finals, don't you, Bik?"  Those one or two hour torture sessions at the end
of every semester?" he asked, trying to lighten the conversation up a bit."

Bik cleared his throat. "Yes, I remember those all right. But Todd and
Robert are the ones who freaked out during tests. You and Michelle are the
cool cats in the family. You guys never seemed to have pressure glands in
your body; you just study, take the tests, and then go out and play soccer
or do something else.  So I don't believe that you've changed so much."

"Well, you know it's college for me now, and the stakes are higher and
all..."

"Peter."  Bik said his voice again very firm and no-nonsense.

"Yea?"  The response was almost meek.

"If you don't want to talk about whatever it is, that's OK.  Maybe I am
just reaching here, but it's just not like you," Bik said as he cleared his
throat again.  "Could I take a guess?  I know there could be a million
things, but I think I know you pretty well and I know that you're usually
pretty good about dealing with school pressure. I promise I'll only ask one
question, if that's OK.  You can just say 'yes' or 'no' and I won't bother
you about details or anything, OK?  I just want to understand where you are
so I don't worry about anything else.  Is that all right?" he finally
asked.

"Sure, Bik. Not that I'm admitting that there's even anything wrong. Like I
said, even for me college finals area big deal and..."

"Peter, is this about a guy?"

His body got rigid as he rubbed his forehead with his free right hand.  He
paused before answering, trying to come up with an answer that wasn't an
out-and-out lie but would still play down anything serious happening.

But the pause told Bik everything that he wanted to know.

"I don't want to pry or anything like that.  I just want to understand and
do what I can for you.  You don't need to tell me any details. I just want
to know that you'll be OK, which I know you will be."

"How...how did you guess?" Peter ask, his voice slightly quivering.

Bik gave out a soft laugh.  "I know you'd deny this but I think that you've
also been the one who's the most emotionally strong in the family.  While
Robert and I were out carousing and raising hell, probably a lot out of
insecurity, you were always as steady as a rock and seemed handle
difficulties really well, even for a callow, immature younger brother," he
said, ribbing him again.

"But I think this is one area that no one is really in control of, not even
someone as self-confident and assured as you.  Passionate feelings for
another person have a life of their own.  I don't know all details of your
romantic life, Peter, but I'm pretty sure that you've never been in a deep
or even semi-deep relationship.  First of all, I know you would have told
us.  Secondly, well, I'm not sure how to say this...but, um..."

"Go ahead; you're not doing too bad so far." Peter said as he continued to
slowly pace the room.

"Well, I don't think you're the kind of guy who plays the field and has all
sorts of light relationships and one night stands.  I know that you've
dated guys and all, but I think that in the end you're a lot more like Pop.
Robert and I are like Dad," he said.  "You know the stories that Aunt Hanna
told us?  Dad was all over the place with guys, until he met Pop. But Pop
has never had anyone else.  He didn't need to, or didn't want to, fool
around. He just wanted that one person all the time. And I think you're
like that, too."

"And by the way, I'm not saying you're better than Robert and me!" Bik
quickly said before his brother could react.

Peter laughed.  "Well...um...I won't make a value judgement either, but I
guess there might be....something to what you say.  Like you said, I'
haven't dated a lot and stuff like that."

"Look, I know this is real sensitive, and stuff like this is really tough
to deal with, and you don't have to tell me anything more.  But if you ever
want to talk, I'm here. OK?

"Thanks, Bik.  I think I'll be OK.  I mean, it's coming up to finals and
I've got a week here where I've got to try and focus.  But if I want to
talk I promise I'll give you a call.

"Anytime, guy.  Anytime.  You could talk to Laura, too, if you want.  I'm
sure she'd love to help, if you think it's right.  Or call anyone in the
family"

Bik wasn't sure how he was really handling all this, so he paused for a
moment, just letting it sink in.  Still not hearing Peter say anything, he
was about to continue when his younger brother finally spoke up.

"He's a really great guy, Bik. You'd like him.  He's really a special
person...," Peter said, almost as if he was continuing a different
conversation, or an earlier one. "And I know this might sound really dumb,
but I don't even know if he's gay."

 "It's not dumb at all, Peter.  I'm sure he's a great guy if you like him,
and that's what's most important.  It's too bad that things are like they
are, that gay people often have one more unknown thing to deal with in
these situations."

"Thanks, Bik, I appreciate it," he said as he continued telling him about
Marty, how they met, what they did together, how cute he was (though not
going into what a great body he thought Marty had) and what he could
surmise about where things stood.  Speaking slowly and carefully, both to
try to control himself and to reassure Bik, he admitted his own surprise
about how strong and fast his feelings seemed to emerge, reinforcing Bik's
own points about the power of strong emotions.

Not absolutely sure of his speculation about Marty's difficult past; he
only told Bik what he was sure about, including the pile-up during the
first soccer game, where he focused on Marty's extraordinary efforts at
amends rather than the event itself.

More questions came from Bik, who, though now concerned with his brother's
unresolved passions, was at least relieved to know what was really
happening.  Even then he realized there wasn't much he could do, except to
support his brother and remind him again that other people in the family
would be there for him, too.

"I promise I won't tell anyone else right now, but I can't hold off Dad and
Pop forever.  I think they can smell that something is going on, so it
might be a good idea to just call them and just let them hear your voice.
And Robert and our cousin's aren't' far behind them, so I hope you can work
things out before there's a posse out after you," he said with a laugh,
"but I know that you'll do the right thing."

					***

After he hung up with Bik, Peter laid back down on the bed, thinking,
looking at the fish swimming around in the tank, ruminating again.  He
hadn't opened the window blinds yet (had Marty shut those last night? He
couldn't remember, but he himself always left them open.) so the glow of
the tank still provided most of the light.

The talk with Bik really helped.  Though it didn't solve the problem at
hand, it allowed him to blow off steam, and, he hoped, to think a bit more
clearly about things.  And he was in dire need of clear thinking right at
that moment.

How?  When? What would he say?' he thought to himself. 'If it was with a
girl it would just be a matter of do you like me or not, more or less.  But
jeez, I don't even now if he's gay!"  He couldn't imagine Marty being angry
or offended, that didn't worry him.  It was the thought of just hearing the
word, 'no' that was the most terrifying.

					***

Usually he'd find an email message from Marty after they had done something
together the night before, but there wasn't a call or message at all. It
didn't strike him as necessarily such a bad sign, but in his anxious mood
he could read a million negative things into this, which added to his
determination to get some answers as soon as possible.

After he took a shower and checked his email one more time, he tried to
give Marty call. Oddly, it rang a couple of times before it went into
voicemail, as if Marty identified the caller and then decided to push it
into the recording mode.  After all, it he was on the phone, it would have
gone straight to voicemail.  At least that's what he thought.

Not being even remotely interested in food, he skipped breakfast and headed
off to the nearby science library.  The main library was his favorite
place, as it was almost a regular haunt for Marty and the rest of their
gang, to study there.  But Marty had also gotten a temporary work-study job
to reshelve books, and Peter wasn't quite ready to run into him yet.

He tried to study, and did get a little bit of work done.  But it was
always a lot easier to study when Marty was around, just across the table
from him.  They hardly spoke at all during those times, even when it was
just the two of them.  But just his presence helped him relax and focus.
Without him it was a struggle.

Feeling like academic focus was getting hopeless, he gave up after a couple
of unproductive hours. Adrift and still unable to concentrate on anything
but Marty, he wandered around the campus, not even knowing where he was
going, just trying to burn off nervous energy, thinking, strategizing.

By now he had tried to call Marty at least 5 times, but each time it would
ring and be sent into voicemail.  But it was so unlike him, so different
from the usual pattern.

He didn't drag himself home until late that night, where he found Jeff on
the couch when he finally got in the door.

"How was your boyfriend last night?  Did you guys do it yet?" Jeff asked,
not taking his eyes off of the porn DVD that he had playing on the TV.

Peter sat down next to him and started to take his shoes off, trying to be
as nonchalant as possible, even with a steamy sex scene on the screen 5
feet away from him. This was one time he really didn't want to hear any of
Jeff's playful harassment, let alone watch a tacky porn flick.

"No and no," was all he responded.  He didn't even want to ask him how he
knew, he just assumed that he was already home and had heard them talking.

"You know, last night he tried to tiptoe out of your room, like a cat
burglar. But, of course I couldn't help but hear him.  Not that I'm a
busybody or anything, I was just minding my own business.  But a guy just
can't help noticing these things,' he said, his low-key manner belying his
intense voyeuristic interest.  "I don't know what happened between you
kids, but he must have stood out there for 5 minutes next to his bike,
hardly making a sound.  Except that I think I did hear a long sigh from out
there before he left."

"What on earth did you do to that boy?" Jeff asked.

                                                    ***

Peter couldn't remember a more fitful night trying to get to sleep, which
said a lot considering his history of insomnia.  He couldn't really say
what time that he got out of bed after he woke up, because he never really
went to sleep. It just seemed like one long solitary strategy session about
what he would say to Marty.

'This can't go on,' he thought to himself.

He knew Marty's work schedule by heart, even for the new job, and resolved
to somehow encounter him after he got off his shift.  Thinking that he had
made some progress in at least coming to a decision, he still struggled to
accomplish some serious studying.  He even pulled off his hearing aid to
withdraw from the world, but the increased isolation just seemed to torment
him even more.

Darkness was coming earlier and earlier, and he was anxious to make sure
that he didn't miss Marty as he came out of the front lobby.  He positioned
himself on a stone bench at the end of the plaza, far enough away to allow
the other leaving students to disperse, but close enough to not lose sight
of him.

He could recognize Marty's figure a mile away, even when he was inside and
one could barely make out a human figure at all.  No one looked even
remotely like him, at least to Peter.  Luckily it wasn't so cold out, in
fact there was a bit of a warm spell for December, but just getting a
glimpse of him in the distance seemed to give Peter a chill.  It really
made him notice how helpless he felt before these passions, but there was
no turning back now.

As Marty approached he noticed the absence of the usual erect posture, with
a downcast head as he trudged slowly away from the building.

"Hey," Peter called out as he got up from the bench.  The ground was wet
from melting snow, and there was the periodic drip of thawing ice from the
building gutters.

Marty raised his head up and looked at him, then suddenly stopped his slow
march.

"Hey, um, I haven't heard from you since the other night, is...everything
OK?" Peter asked.

For a moment Marty didn't look hurt or angry, he thought.  But he did look
more worn out and tired than Peter had ever seen him.  Even the blond hair
that was usually carefully combed was now out of place.

But even in this beleagurered state he was still the most beautiful guy he
had ever seen.

"I was meaning to call you...I mean...sorry, I was just really busy and all
the last day or so, I haven't had much of a chance to do anything except
work and study,"

"Um...I understand," Peter said.  "I just, uh..., I just need to talk to
you for a couple minutes. Is that OK?"

"Uh, sure.  I just have a little bit of time, but we could go inside if you
want or..."

Peter couldn't wait for anything or anywhere else.  "If it's OK with you,
we could do it close by, maybe just around the corner over there," he said,
nodding toward a smaller courtyard at the edge of the plaza.

"OK, that should work," Marty replied as they moved together toward the
space, ending up standing next to each other along a short stone garden
wall that enclosed the space and gave it a certain attractive intimacy.

Peter put his back pack on the wall and drew a deep breath before he
spoke. He could see that Marty had tensed up, too.

"I don't know if you're going to want to hear this, Marty, but I need to
say something to you," he started.  "But whatever you think afterwards, I
hope that we can...um...still be friends. I hope it doesn't upset you, OK?"

For some reason, Marty's expressions hardly changed, but he knew that there
was more going on in his head than his face let on.

"I'll try to just get to the point here..." He had laid out a speech about
how his feelings had developed, what a partner meant to him, all sorts of
nice stuff.  But now, in the heat of the moment, it just seemed like
bullshit.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed, as he twisted away from Marty but then turned quickly
back.

"Marty, I - I'm sorry, I'll try to get this out as best I can."  He took
another deep breath and started again.

"We've known each other now for a couple months, playing soccer, studying
doing stuff. It's been a lot of fun and all, and I've enjoyed every minute
of it. I think we've become really good friends," he said, struggling to
get the words out in what he felt was a coherent way.

"With most people, I just enjoy their company and have fun, but that's all
there is.  Even with the few guys I've kind of gone out with, there have
never been any of them that were real special to me."

He stood a bit away from Marty, not wanting to appear threatening.  But
now, focusing his look on him, his entire body became almost rigid.

"Like a said I know that we're friends and all, but...I think...well I
know...my feelings have become a lot stronger more, than just friendship. I
think...I mean, I know ...that I'm...um...that I'm in love with you."

"Look, I don't even know if you're gay, Marty.  I really don't know if it's
even possible that you could feel anything for me."  Peter shook his head,
frustrated at his continued inability to make what he thought was a clear
presentation of this thoughts.  "I just had to say this, Marty. I couldn't
not say it anymore, it was driving me crazy."

There was still no reaction from him, and in his panic, Peter was rapidly
losing hope.  "Even if you can't do anything, I...um...I hope that we can
still be friends,...like I said, I just had to say something.

"Peter, you should..." Marty started to reply, then lowered his head,
almost like he was going deep in thought.

There was silence between them.  It was an uncomfortable void, which caused
Peter even more despair.  But something was changing.

Marty's head rose up and that look of terror that Peter had seen once
before.  That person at the bottom of the pile-up was returning.

Suddenly, he erupted.  "You don't want me Peter! You don't need me!" he
cried out "if you really knew me, you wouldn't' want me. I'm not who you
think I am!"

Peter tried to reply as calmly as possible himself. even though his stomach
was now in knots.  "What do you mean? I think I know you pretty well,
though I'm sure that..."

"No! No! I'm not!  He cried out again.  He looked back down at the ground
and shook his head, trying to get his composure.  "You don't understand
Peter, and I guess I don't either.  But...I'm not really who you think I
am...I'm not a good person..."

"Why do you say that, Marty? You're the most fantastic guy I know."

"No I'm not, I'm...." he paused, search for the right word, and struggled
to continue.  "I'm...dirty, you really don't want anything to do with me."
He started to move away, but Peter grabbed his jacket.

"Marty" he said, holding his shoulder in a firm grip, "I need to ask you
something, and you don't need to say more than you want to, OK?"  Peter was
nervous about even alluding to his suspicions, but decided there was no
choice anymore.

Marty wiped sweat from his forehead, acknowledging Peter only with a nod of
his head.

"Did someone hurt you?"  He asked, as gently and sympathetically as he
could.  "Did someone do something to you?"

Marty looked blank.  There was not an answer and no emotion anywhere at
all.

"Marty?" Peter asked.

Still no answer.

"Marty, can you..."

The desperation was still in his voice when he almost shrieked out the
answer.  "He was bigger than me, Peter!  I couldn't help it!  I got Angela
away from him...but he was too strong for me!"

Peter suddenly felt all the blood rush out of his head, yet he pressed on.
"No matter what happened, Marty, I'm here for you.  You can talk, if you
want to."  He actually wasn't sure he wanted to even hear it.  Not that he
didn't want to help - he knew now that he'd do anything for Marty.  But to
hear about his suffering would be almost the worst torture he could
imagine.

Now Marty was the one who needed to be steadied.  "Can we go over there and
sit on the bench?  He asked.

"Of course," Peter answered as he led him to the ancient stone slabs the
line one side of the courtyard.

Marty sat quietly for a few moments, calming himself down before he spoke.

"I think I told you that my mom really struggled after my Dad died. One of
her outlets, or problems, or whatever you want to call it, was to date a
lot of guys, trying to find love again. Unfortunately, she didn't use the
best judgment and went out with some real losers."

"There was one guy...the biggest low-life you ever met, but he flattered
her when she needed it and well, that was the way to her heart back then.
But he was interested in other things besides her," he continued.

"One day, I heard some noise in my sister's room.  It didn't sound good, so
I went to the door and knocked on it, asking Angela is she was OK.  I just
heard a muffled sound, and then she yelled out for help." Marty said, his
fists now starting to clench.

The door was locked, so I had to practically knock it down to get in. When
I got in, I saw this jerk trying to pin her down on the bed.  He was pretty
big, a lot bigger than either of us. I don't know how I did it, but I
managed to knock him over and free Angela. I don't know, maybe he was just
too high, since we found out later that he was into some nasty drugs.  But
I got her away from him."

"But then he got back up and grabbed both of us, he was that strong.  Only
one of us could get free, so I gave it everything I had and was able to get
her loose when his foot got caught on the rug and he lost his balance."

"Angela tried to free me, too, but I could see it would just get us both
caught.  I was able to push her away and out the door while he was just
hanging onto my leg.

"How did you get her not to come back?  She's not the type who would
abandon you."  Peter said.

"Your right, she's not. So after I pushed her out the door I literally
threw a chair in front of it before he pulled me back onto the bed.  Then I
just yelled 'Get help!'

She was smart enough to know what she needed to do, so she ran over to some
neighbors, I don't remember who, and they called the cops.'

 "He didn't care if he had a boy or a girl in bed, he was that far out of
it.  He shoved me back down on the bed and...."

"You OK? Only continue if you want to." Peter said as he reached over and
clutched Marty's hand and noticed the sweaty palm.

Marty cleared his throat as Peter felt his hand suddenly tighten.  "I can't
go into the details because um..I don't remember. But I do know that he..he
did some really bad things to me."

Peter just continued to hold his hand tightly "You don't have to say more
if you don't want to."

Marty just shook his head.  "No, thanks, I'm OK," he replied.  There were
no tears. Peter thought that he probably just didn't have any left after
all these years.

"He was too high to even try to cover it up, and he was arrested right in
our house and taken to jail.  My mom lost temporary custody of us and
that's when we were sent to my Dad's family to live.  It was in another
town, which was good.  But the whole episode almost killed my Mom," he
said, his face almost expressionless.

"It just goes to show you how damage can be done when someone you really
love goes away," he said, referring to his late father.

Peter just continued to hold his hand in a sure and steady grip.

"Maybe that's why I'm...gay," he said.  "I thought that it was because of
what he did to me that made me this way." Marty said, "It was just when I
was hitting puberty, so I guess I just conflated everything.  But then I
thought that maybe if I didn't act on it at all, that I could kind of cover
it up.  I'd just be a monk and focus on taking care of Angela and me."

"That's not why people are gay, of course, but I can see why you'd feel
that way."  Peter said.

"I know it's not, but..."  Marty said as he looked down, "but that's how I
dealt with it."

"I don't think I'm such a bad guy and all, but I never thought anyone would
want me after that, I mean, when they knew.  That jerk even said so, he
said that he ruined me, and was proud of it.  I kind just went into this
shell, not really getting close to anyone, and not really wanting
to...until..."

"Until what?"  Peter asked.

Marty shuffled his feet.  "Until... I met you."

Peter gave a gentle squeeze to his hand but let him continue to talk.

"I though you were special the very first time I met you, actually the
moment that I heard your voice when you backed me up in that first soccer
game," he said. "When I slugged you, I just felt like a monster. Not only
because I hit a person, but it...was you.  I looked at myself and wondered
about what kind of anger was inside of me."

"That's why I can't do this to you, Peter, You don't deserve all these
problems, you deserve..."

"Marty?"

"Uh huh?"

"Look at me."

He turned his head toward Peter.

Before he could say anything else, Peter pulled their faces together and
kissed him softly right on the lips.

Marty looked stunned, but didn't resist.  "But what about..."  Before he
could finish Peter pulled their lips together again and now pulled him
tight against his chest.  This time, Marty definitely responded as he gave
a small, but sure return of Peter's embrace.

"That's the only way I can answer you.  I just don't know any words that
work anymore."  Peter said as their lips again parted.

Marty just looked at him, smiling, but almost in a daze.

"How does it feel to kiss a guy for the first time, and I guess, second
time, too?  Peter asked.

Marty didn't answer for moment, first looking at Peter, then looking down
at the ground, embarrassed.

"Um, this isn't the first time I've kissed a guy, Peter."

He was stunned, but did his best not to show it.  "What do you mean you've
already kissed a guy?  I mean, I thought you hadn't...I mean..." he
responded, clearly perplexed.

"I'll tell you about it," Marty said, "He was the most beautiful guy, lying
there, sleeping.  I'll always remember that he looked like an
angel...then...,"

"Uh huh," Peter replied with nervous anticipation, as he realized that he
was starting to breath a bit more intensely.

"I couldn't help myself. I just leaned over and kissed him gently on the
cheek."

"Oh..." Peter replied again, but somehow, getting the sense that Marty
wanted him to say something, he asked, "did he kiss you back?"

"No, like I said, he was asleep.  I just continued to look down at
him...there wasn't a lot of light, just the glow from his...aquarium."

"Oh, he had one, too..." Peter's thoughts raced. Who? When? Aquarium? Then
his mind finally clicked.  W "You did kiss me!  I thought I had dreamt it!
I don't believe it, you really did!" he said as his excitement launched him
up from the bench.

Marty smiled, pulling on Peter's jacket as he laughed.  "I didn't get any
kiss back, but I have to admit...it felt wonderful."

As he staring up at him, Marty suddenly realized that was starting to
breath much more rapidly.  "Peter, are you OK?"

Peter just stood there.  He was trying desperately to catch his breath, but
the excitement and everything else that had happened was too much.  "Just
give me a sec, I'll be OK..."

"Here! Sit back down!" Marty ordered, as he gave Peter his place on the
bench. He knelt down in front of him to study his face, moving Peter's legs
to the side so he could get in between them and be as close as possible.
All his powers focused intensely on Peter's breathing as his right hand
reached around to gently massage Peter's neck.

"Just breathe slowly, OK. Nice and easy...nice and easy..." he calmly
repeated.

"Doing better?  Marty asked after a few moments.

Peter shook his head in the affirmative then reached over and again tightly
gripped Marty's jacket while he attempted to further slow his breathing.

"Good....slow...OK....nice and slow," Marty continued as he used his other
hand to hold Peter's wrist.

Even With Marty continuing to gently encourage him, it still took Peter a
few minutes to finally get his breathing completely under control and
release Marty's jacket from his desperate hold.

"Sorry I got so wound-up, I was just so nervous about tonight," he said as
he rested his hand on Marty's still outstretched arm.

"You OK now?" Marty asked.

"Yes, a lot better.  Thanks," he replied.

He didn't move for a minute before speaking again, realizing that Marty
wouldn't let him go on until he thought that he had completely recovered.

"Are you sure you want ME? Peter asked, his formerly determined look now
dissolving into something that struck Marty as far more vulnerable. "You
know, I can't even finish a soccer game without losing my breath, I'm half
deaf, who knows what else is wrong with me and now..."

Before he could finish his sentence Marty raised his finger to Peter's
mouth, gently silencing him.

Placing his hands on Peter's head, he moved that beautiful brown hair out
of his face and stared into his eyes.  "Now it's my turn to say 'I love
you,' he said as he brought their lips together one more time.