Date: Wed, 16 Aug 2006 18:51:40 -0400
From: Ronyx <ronyx@woh.rr.com>
Subject: A Different Road   Chapter 1

The following is a work of fiction. Any similarities to anyone are purely
coincidental. The story is intended for a mature audience. It may contain
profanity and references to gay sex. If this offends you, please leave
and find something more suitable to read. The author maintains all rights
to the story. Do not copy or use without written permission. Write Ron at
ronyx@woh.rr.com with your comments.



A Different Road Chapter 1



You ever had a best friend who was inseparable from you? Someone that if
they got sick, you got sick, just so you could share their pain. Someone
who you knew would come running if you needed a shoulder to cry on.
Someone who would laugh at all your corny jokes.

That was Brett. My inseparable other. Until yesterday.

I don't even know what happened. I didn't even see it coming. One day
we were best friends and lovers. Now he's not even here to wipe away my
tears. Tears that belong to him. Tears that have flooded from my heart,
consumed my soul and now find their way to my eyes.

He said he had to travel a different road. This one without me. He's
traveling a new road with someone else. Mine dead ends ahead.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Gimme back my ball!" The small boy in front of me screamed.

"Wanna play?" I asked. He was new to the playground. I'd never seen
him before.

"No. I don't like you?" He screamed, yanking his ball from my hand.

"Why?" He'd never met me. How could he say he didn't like me?

"Because I just don't." He pouted.

"Brett." A tall woman walked over and stood beside him. "There you
are. What are you doing over here?"

"He's mean." He told his mother, pointing at me.

"Why's he mean?" She asked patiently.

"He stole my ball." He said angrily.

"But you have your ball." She told him. "He didn't steal it." He
looked at the ball then back at me.

"What's your name?" She asked, patting me on my head.

"Corey Singer, Ma'am." I said timidly.

"Well, Corey." She squatted down and looked into my eyes. "This is
Brett. I'm his mother, Mrs. Weaver."

"Why's he mad at me." I started to cry. "I didn't steal his stupid
ball. I just wanted to play with him." She leaned over and took me in
her arms. Brett stood back and watched. Then he began to cry as well. She
reached out and pulled him into us.

"I'm sorry." He cried. "I didn't mean to hurt you." His mother made
us hug each other. That day Brett became my best friend. He never hurt me
again. Until yesterday.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Corey, can we talk?" He walked into my bedroom and sat down beside me
on the bed. I was reading a book for my lit class. I was glad for the
distraction. Paradise Lost had definitely lost me in the interest
category.

I looked over and noticed the serious look on his usually smiling face.
He still looked as good as the day I first saw him. He was growing into a
handsome man. He brushed his dark brown hair aside and looked at me with
his penetrating brown eyes. I could lay and look into his eyes for hours
after we made love. They were soft and warm. In all the years we'd know
each other, they had never once looked angrily at me.

"What is it Brett." I said taking his hand in mine. He slowly pulled it
away. He'd never done that before. I looked at him and gave his a
questioning look.

"Look, Corey." Sadness came over him. I don't know if it was for him
or me. "I can't do this anymore." He stood and walked over to the
window and looked out.

"Do what, Brett." I walked over to him and gently threw my arms around
him. He took his hands and pried my fingers loose.

"This, Corey." He moved away. "I'm sorry." He turned and I saw tears
in his eyes. I'd never seen Brett cry once since that time we were in
the playground. We were five then. Now at seventeen, he was shedding his
first tears.

"What's wrong?" I was becoming increasingly worried. I knew Brett
better than I knew myself. He wouldn't be upset unless something was
really wrong. He walked over and grabbed me by my shoulders and stared
into my eyes. His brown eyes were twinkling with tears. I also saw a
sadness behind them, and it scared me.

"I love you, Corey." Tears were falling freely down his face. "You
know that. But I can't do this anymore. I don't want to be gay."

"We're not gay, Brett." I was trying to understand what he was saying.
"We love each other. That doesn't make us gay."

"Damn it, Corey." He cried. "It does. I can't live like this anymore.
You've got us living our lives together, building a house and adopting
children some day. It doesn't get any gayer than that."

"We're best friends, Brett." I reached for his hand again, and he
pulled away. "I don't even think about other guys. Only you."

"That's just it, Corey." He said sadly. "I don't think that way
about you anymore."

I walked over to the bed and fell down crying. I couldn't contain my
emotions. I loved Brett. Loved him. If that meant I was gay, then I guess
I was. He had become my life over the past twelve years, and now he was
getting ready to walk out of it.

"I'm sorry, Corey." He said as he turned to walk away. "It's just
that I've got to travel a different road than you."

"No, please!" I shouted. "Don't go. I can't live without you." I
ran over and clutched him tightly. I couldn't let him go.

"I really am sorry, Corey." Tears were flowing down his face. He turned
and opened the door and left.

Brett had just walked out of my life.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Hey, Mrs. Weaver." Brett's mother had just met me at the door. "Can
I see go up and see Brett?" He hadn't been in class today. We were in
the fifth grade and this was the first time I could remember him ever
missing a day of school.

"Honey, he's awful sick." She warned me. "You'd better not. You'll
get sick too."

"That's alright. I really want to see him." Tears formed in my eyes.
My best friend was sick and I wanted to be with him. Without another
word, I headed upstairs. His mother was going to say something, but
stopped and laughed instead.

"Hey, Pukeface." I grinned as I opened his door slightly. He was lying
in bed with the covers over his head. He pulled them back and looked
sadly at me. His hair was tousled all over his head and he looked very
pale. His normally bright eyes were dull.

"What are you doing here?" He said weakly. "You're going to get what
I have."

"I don't care." I walked over and sat on the side of his bed. "Can't
let my best bud suffer alone." He started coughing. I reached over and
started rubbing his back. He was wet with sweat. He must have been
running a high fever.

Suddenly, he grabbed his mouth and sprinted from the room. I ran behind,
watching his vomit slipping through his hands. I carefully stepped around
it. When I reached the bathroom he was retching violently into the
toilet.

I put my hands around his waist and braced him so that he wouldn't fall.
The stink was horrible, but I didn't want to leave him. He finished and
I walked him back to bed and helped him in. Then I went out into the
hallway and cleaned up the mess he had made.

"Thanks." He looked up at me when I returned to the room.

"Hey, no problem." I assured him. "That's what friends are for."

"I don't think that's what the friend's manual says." He laughed
weakly.

"Sure it does." I said holding out my palm and pointing to it. "Right
here. Rule Number 15. Clean up puke off floor when friend is sick." He
started to laugh, but then began coughing.

"Shut up dickwad." He rolled over and curled up into a ball. "I don't
feel too good." He closed his eyes and started to go to sleep. I took
off my shoes, and pulled back the covers and lay down beside him. He
sighed when I pulled him into me and held him tightly. Within minutes he
was sound asleep. So was I.

His mother came in several hours later and found us curled up together.
She woke me up and told me I should go on home. My mother had called and
said that supper was ready. I awoke in the middle of the night with sweat
pouring off my body. My stomach felt queasy and I knew I had better get
to the bathroom quickly. I barely made it before I emptied my dinner into
the toilet. I guess I had caught what Brett had. I didn't care. Rule
Number 2 in the friendship handbook: Friends share.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Where is the damn rule book now? Rule Number 1: Friends don't hurt
friends. I lay on my bed and cried remembering the time we'd been sick
together. We were out of school for three days. Brett's mother brought
him over and we stayed together while my mother nursed us back to health.
Neither of us could stand to be away from the other.

Is it possible for your heart to break? I've heard of a broken heart,
but I was seriously worried that mine was going to burst. I never
imagined that losing someone could hurt so much. My chest was tight, and
the damn tears wouldn't quit flowing.

I kept going back to his words. "I don't think about you like that
anymore." Like what? He doesn't love me anymore? He doesn't want to
have sex anymore? What? If he'd only tell me I could deal with it. But
saying he couldn't do it anymore had no meaning.

And what about me? I don't count in the equation? I don't have a say in
the matter. He decides he doesn't want to be my friend anymore and that
is it. I should hate him, but I can't hate Brett. I could never hate
him.

Maybe over the years we had gotten involved too deeply, but we loved one
another. Our friendship had turned to sex, but it didn't seem to matter.
It had always just seemed the natural thing to do. We always said we
weren't gay; we were just two close friends. But I knew about a year ago
I was probably gay. I didn't tell Brett because I wasn't sure he was.
Now I know he isn't.

"God!" I screamed into the pillow. "I can't live without him."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Where'd you get the magazine?" Brett giggled, opening up the
centerfold of the Playboy we were looking at. I was spending the night
and had waited until everyone in the house had gone to bed. I didn't
want us to get caught with it. It was about four months after we had
shared the flu.

"In a trash can over on Second Street." I told him.

"What? Are you some wino now, rummaging through the trash?" He laughed
as he turned the page to a woman with huge tits."

"Shut up, Fuckface." I elbowed him in his ribs. "Why are you
complaining? You seem to like the pictures." We were sitting on the bed
in our underwear and it was obvious that Brett had an erection. I did
too.

"Hell, yeah." He giggled again. "Look at the size of them. I'd love
to bury my head there."

"Sure." I laughed. "Like you'd know what to do with that little
worm." I looked down and pointed to his dick poking at his underwear.

"It's not a little worm." He pulled down his underwear and started
stroking it. "I'd know exactly what to do."

"You'd probably stick it everywhere but where it should go." I
giggled. This got me an elbow in my side.

"Like you'd know what to do." He elbowed me again.

"I didn't say I would." I pulled down my shorts and began stroking
myself. It wasn't unusual for us to jack off in front of each other.
We'd been doing it for about a year after we heard a boy in our gym
class talking about masturbating. Neither of us knew what the word meant,
so we went to the library to look it up. You should have seen the look on
our face when we found a book about it. It even had pictures of guys
doing it!

At twelve, though, neither of us could produce sperm yet. We learned
about that word too. But we sure liked the feeling we got after we did it
a while. Until that night we had never done anymore than jack each other
off once in a while.

"Listen to this." Brett began to read one of the stories. "She took
his cock into her mouth and began sucking him. He was moaning and
thrusting his cock deeper into her mouth."

He was rapidly jacking off as he read this. I watched intently while I
continued to stroke mine.

"I wonder what that would feel like?" Brett said huskily. "I can't
wait until I get a girlfriend and she does that to me."

"Jerk." I laughed. "That's not going to happen anytime soon."

"Then I guess you'll have to do it." He raised his eyebrow, and then
reached over and grabbed my neck and tried to push me towards his dick.

"Shit. I'm not going to do that." I grabbed his hand and pushed it off
my neck. Then I wrestled with him until I had the back of his head and
directed it to my erect cock. He continued to struggle but let me lead
his head to my dick. I felt him lick the top of it. It sent shudders
through my body. He looked up at me.

"If you ever tell anyone I did this, I'll kick your ass." He then
leaned over and took my cock in his mouth and began sucking it. I thought
I was going to die. It felt much better than jacking it off. His mouth
was warm and he had his mouth wrapped tightly around it.

I was moaning softly. I couldn't believe that Brett was giving me a blow
job. After a couple minutes he sat back up and looked over at me.

"Your turn." He said grabbing his cock and pointing it at me.

"I didn't say I'd suck your dick." I said astonished. It had never
entered my mind that he'd want me to return the favor.

"Fair is fair." He said. "I sucked yours, now you gotta suck mine."

"Who said that?" I asked. He opened his palm and pretended to read from
it.

"Right here. Rule Number 83." He looked at me and grinned. "If your
friend sucks your dick, you have to suck his."

"Damn." I cried out. "You would have to get out the rule book." He
started giggling.

I leaned over and took his cock into my mouth. He giggled when I put my
mouth around it and started running my tongue around the head.

"It tickles." He said. I took my mouth and sucked his cock all the way
down. He started moaning. "Oh, man. That feels good."

I can't explain it, but having Brett's cock in my mouth seemed the most
natural thing in the world. He was enjoying what I was doing and that was
all that mattered. I was making my friend happy. I didn't feel dirty.
All the jokes in the boys' locker room about girls sucking a guy's dick
made it sound like it was a nasty thing to do. But I didn't feel like
that.

Brett tried to get me to pull off several times, but I wanted to feel it
when he had a dry orgasm. I wanted to feel him pulse in my mouth.

"God, Cory." He screamed. "Stop! I think I'm going to pee in your
mouth!" He grabbed my head and tried to pull me off. I pushed my mouth
down deeper.

"Unngggghhh!" He moaned. I could feel him begin to pulse and then
tasted something bitter. He had just shot his first sperm in my mouth. I
couldn't believe it. I had made my best friend have his first orgasm!

I was grinning widely when I sat up and looked over at him. He was laid
back on the bed with his eyes closed and he was breathing heavily. After
a minute he looked over at me and smiled. I could tell he was really
happy. I looked over and returned the smile. I then grabbed my cock and
started swinging it.

"Fair is fair." I grinned. He shrugged his shoulders and then leaned
over and started sucking me again. After a few minutes I tensed up and
had a dry orgasm. It wouldn't be for several more months until he'd
taste my sperm.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I lay curled up in bed in a fetal position with the covers pulled over my
head. I didn't want to ever crawl out from under the comfort of my bed.
If I didn't get up I wouldn't have to face the cruel reality of the
world.

My pillow was wet from the tears I'd been shedding. I looked at the
clock. It had only been two hours since Brett walked out of my life.

"Corey." My mother knocked softly on my door. "May I come in?"

"No, Mom." The door opened slowly and she peeked into the room. So much
for privacy. I guess all her lectures on respecting a person's privacy
meant little when it was my room.

"Are you alright son?" She asked worriedly. "Why are you in bed at
6:00? And it's so dark in here." She walked over to the window and
opened the blinds. Then she turned on my overhead light. I pulled the
cover tightly over my head, hoping she'd go away. No luck. I could feel
her sit on the side of my bed. She tried to pull the cover back, as I
fought to keep my face covered.

"Corey. What is wrong with you?" She pulled down the cover and looked
at my tear-stained face. "My God, you've been crying."

"Mom, please leave me alone." I pleaded. "Please. I don't want to
talk about anything right now."

"But you've been crying." She said softly. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I really don't want to right now." I pulled the cover back over my
head. "Please leave."

"Not until you tell me why you're crying." She insisted. She pulled
the covers down and wiped away a falling tear. "What's wrong?"

I don't know why I said it. I guess I felt I had nothing else to lose.
I'd lost the only person in the world that meant anything to me. I
really didn't even worry about the consequences of my next statement.

"I'm in love with Brett." I said softly.

"Of, course you love Brett." She replied. "He's your best friend. You
should love him."

"No, Momma." Tears were rolling freely down my face. "I'm in love
with Brett." This time I stressed- in love.

She studied my face for a moment. I couldn't tell by her expression if
she had fully understood what I had just confessed to her. Suddenly her
eyes narrowed and she stared at me for a moment. She then stood up and
looked down at me.

"I see." She said calmly. She then turned and walked out of the room,
closing the door behind her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Comments?   Email ronyx@woh.rr.com and visit my website at
www.themustardjar.com to read my other stories.