Date: Wed, 27 Jan 1999 17:56:32 -0800 (PST)
From: Bambi Ben <hammben@yahoo.com>
Subject: Even When I Dream (highschool, m/m, t/t)

Chapter Three:

	I made it back to school with about 5 minutes to spare so I
raced to my sixth period. Thank GOD the registration gestapo gave me an
elective class that didn't require 20 hours of homework per week. Film
Appreciation. A slacker's dream. 

	I got in the door and quickly scanned the classroom for my boy.
I spotted Chris at his usual table, sitting by himself flipping through
the latest Sporting News. God, he was so cute. The way he perched his
head in his hand as he sat there. How his bangs glided across his
forehead. How his--

	"Hey Josh! Get over here, bizznitch." My inner-reverie was broken
by a guy named Jason. See, in this class we sat in groups at tables and
we worked together and all that great crap. Jason was a short, kinda
stocky kid who liked to believe that he was a "straight up G from the
west si-EED". I sat down in my chair and chucked my backpack under the
table and fiddled with my keychain, it was all I could do not to rush
over and have my way with my secret love. 

	Mr. Palmer, the basketball coach (and when he could find the time,
he also taught a few classes), walked into the room, late at usual and
hurried to set up the LCD projector. Of course, I took the extra time
to gaze at Chris. I watched as he squinted and looked out the window
into the dreary May shower that was soaking the world outside. I felt
my heart begin to flutter as he sighed and ran his fingers through his
golden hair. All too soon, however, the lights went off and the
projector went on and I was going to sit through some old black and
white movie about a border town in Texas. But hey... the chick from
Psycho is in it! Score. Give me a break.

		*	*	*

	After an eternity, the damn movie was finally over and I was left
with about 10 minutes of the school day to sit there. I was about to
begin my covert oogling but I was interrupted by a chattering
chipmunk, or in our culture what would be called an in crowder. This
make of the model was named Carrie. 

	She wasn't that bad. It was just that she felt the need to transform
me from the happy content loner that I was into some smiling, cheery
on the surface, hateful inside socially inept loner. I wish she'd quit
it.

	"Oh my god! Josh! You have got to come to my house tommorow! Oh my
gosh... it's not even a question. Say you'll come." She squealed.

	After stiffling laughter, I said to her, "Why would I do that? Did
you get a new scrunchie?"

	"Oh my god...you're such a nut. That's so cute. No, seriously. No.
My parents are vapor for the weekend. I'm totally telling you the truth."
Of course, she had to prepare herself for the next few lines, "I'm
throwing a party! Everyone is gonna be there. Ya know...the whole
crowd. Jennie, Rob, Ethan, Janie, Chris, Michael, but only if his--"

	"Wait a minute." I cut in, "Who did you just say was going to be
there?"

	"Huh? Oh...Chris? Or Janie? Yeah! Janie! She's gonna be there
because her mom said her grades were good enough to get out of the house
for the weekend. Janie's cu-ute, huh? Do you like her? She's grown up alot
since first grade, huh? I remember that one time--"

	"Yeah. Janie is quite a hottie." I cut her off again, something
far more important than Janie's little problem with "lemonade" in the
middle of recess, "Listen, I'll come to the party but promise me that
you won't try and fix me up with anyone. Ok?"

	"It's a deal. Be there at 4:30. Besides, if you get annoyed, you
can always go up to my room and watch TV.  It's funny. Chris said that
exact same thing that you did a second ago. Weird, huh? It's like that
song that Alanis did about--" 

	After the word "weird", I just wasn't listening anymore. The mere
concept that Chris and I thought the same way about something was just
too much. I sat there as Carrie droned on and was saved at last by the
bell ringing. I wasn't looking as I went out the door and I felt
someone run into me. I looked to see who it was so I could ....
apologize. It was him.

	"Hey, sorry about that. " He said. Damn, this sweetheart was so
amazing. 10 years in the public school system hadn't stamped it out.
"I didn't mean to run into you there."

	"It's all right," I said, my voice cracking at the worst time. I
swallowed and composed myself. "I'm ok. I think it's all that lead
paint I ate in first grade."

	He laughed and walked beside me down the hallway. "Hey. Are you
going to Carrie's party on Saturday? She said she was going to invite you.
I think she was pretty hopeful that you'd say yes. Did you?"

	"Ummm... yeah. I did." I was a tad thrown off by this interest,
"I'll be there. I probably won't stay long, though. I can only take so much
of the in-crowd."

	He laughed. "I know what you mean. I can feel my IQ going down
just being in the same room with them. Maybe I'll see you there. We can
keep each other company."

	"Yeah. Maybe. See ya later." I blurted out in a harsher tone
than I had intended. I could see the surprise in his face. I tried to
retract. "I'll be there. You'll be there. What else do we need to
worry about?"

	He smiled again and his green eyes lit up, "Cool, man. I'll look
for ya." With that, he turned and took off towards the parking lot.
Through discreet inquiries, I knew that his older brother threatened
to leave him there if he wasn't ready to leave at EXACTLY 2:30pm ON
THE BUTTON.

	After he was out of my eyesight, I put my hand to my heart and
stood there. I felt so bad for what I had said but some internal safetylock
kept me from ever getting too close.

		*	*	*

	Chris and I had known each other since 1st grade. Thanks to
the feeder system, all of us went through elementary, middle, and high
school together with very little variety. I had seen Chris grow from
the stubby, chubby little age seven to the virile sixteen he was now.
Even when we were younger, I was always fascinated in him. I loved to
talk to him and hear how he felt and just listen to his voice. Back
then, I had no other desires except to feel his presence and
personality. But even at that age, I never got too close to him. I
always balked when he asked if I wanted to come over or hang out after
school and it hurt me so much. 

	When I was 13, I started having feelings for other guys and
of course, there was Chris. I knew immediately that he was the one I
wanted and the attraction made so much more sense when I'd take into
account he feelings I'd had for him before. Even in high school, he'd
still talk to me and make really friendly, sincere gestures towards me
and I still just couldn't let him in. I was sure that if I got to know
him too well, I'd eventually hear him make some joke about "faggots"
or he'd find some girl and I'd go insane looking at their love and
affection. It was torture. And I was only sixteen years old. Something
was wrong with that.

		*	*	*

	As I drove home, I kept replaying in my head what had happened.
I kept thinking of his voice and his smile and his cute little dimple--
good lord. Before I knew it, my jeans were tenting out quite
impressively. I remembered my dream that morning and the parts I could
recall combined with my libido would result in a real nuke of an
orgasm and I knew that when I got home, I was going to have to wage war.

	I pulled my car into the drive way and rushed into the house. I
had nothing to worry about since my mom and dad were both working all day.
I hurried up the stairs and into my room where I tossed my backpack
onto my worn out easy chair. 

	Wait, wait a minute. I calmed myself down. You have a days worth
of jizz in your nuts. Enjoy it. Make love. Not rape.

	I shivered for a moment and walked over to my large wall mirror
which stood on the wall opposite the end of my bed. I smiled as my cock
pulsed in my boxers. I sat down on the bed and pulled off my boots and
socks, then I layed back on the floor and pulled off my baggy jeans.
Soon my sweatshirt followed and I sat there in my undershirt and
boxers, which by now had a rather noticeable wetspot on the tip of the
tent.

	Off came the undershirt, exposing my slim frame. I had a nice six
pack going for me, which I was proud of. I hooked the waistband of my
boxers under my thumbs and pulled them off. I took a moment to look at
my naked body sitting there, then I slid down onto the floor with my
back against my bed. I sighed as I slowly ran my hand over the front
of my body, gently pinching and flicking the hard nipples. I ran my
fingers down my abdominal muscles and through my light brown pubes. 

	I spread my legs a bit and wrapped my left hand around my throbbing
dick. I stroked it a few times, producing a nice wet gob of precum
which I used to lube my shaft. Slowly, I began to gently rub my thighs
with my right hand and soon found my way over to my swollen ballsac. I
gave the plump nuts a squeeze and moaned as a wave of euphoria ran
through my body, causing my toes to curl and uncurl. Soon, my cock was
dribbling precum steadily and I wet my middle finger with the sticky
goo. I let my head fall back on the bed as I eased my finger gently
between my firm round asscheeks. The tip came in contact with my
rosebud and I kept going. Sliding my finger into my most intimate
opening. I felt the cum begin to rise into my cock and I knew that I'd
shoot rather soon.

	I took a deep breath and steadied myself. I found my favorite
fantasy: Chris naked in front of me, legs in the air, tight pink hole
bared to only my eyes... Then at the right moment, I buried my finger
into my hot hole, jamming it against my prostate gland. I let out a
loud groan as I pumped my cock as fast as I could. Several white globs
of cum shot out onto my bare legs and thighs as I jerked myself. My
body shivered and I whimpered as the last of my orgasm subsided. This
one was better than ever, I felt it all the way down to the bottoms of
my feet.

	I don't know how long I sat there. I just sat against the bed
and recovered, the sticky globs of cum beginning to congeal on my legs.
When I trusted myself to move, I helped myself up and grabbed my boxer
shorts and wiped myself off. I shivered one last time and chucked the
soiled underwear into my hamper and pulled a fresh pair out of my
dresser. It was Friday night. T.G.I.F. Need I say more?

Chapter Four:

	"Why don't you wear those nice Eddie Bauer pants that your
grandmother got you? What do you call them? Cords?" My mom droned. It
was Saturday afternoon and I had about half an hour before the party,
but that didn't stop my dear mother from critique-ing my outfit. 

	"I don't wanna change, mom. I think I look pretty good." And I did!
I was attired in a pair of baggy Levis and a blue and white striped Nike
shirt. I looked good. Not quite the prep crowd stud, but still pretty
good. Everytime I thought about my outfit, I began to think about what
Chris would be wearing. And then I thought about what would be under
those clothes... 

	"Well, I don't see what's wrong with looking nice at a party. Carrie
Spencer invited you to a party at her house and you seem to feel the
need to dress like a homeless European soccer player. I don't know,
Josh. I never had this happen with your brothers." My mom hit a nerve.

	"Well, you know what? I'm not like my brothers. Has it taken you
that long to realize that? They were right handed. I'm left handed. They
liked baseball, I like soccer. They liked Metallica, I like Aerosmith.
They liked girls. I like gu--" Whoops. I tried to save myself. "I like
GOOD, nice girls. They liked the slutty ones." I knew that would get
her going, but I couldn't help myself.

	"Why do you have to talk like that?! Your brothers were good to you.
They prepared you for the harsh world--"

	"Yeah, mom. I know." I couldn't stand it when she defended them
like that. No matter how many car trunks they locked me into or how many
of my toys they broke, it was always excusable to her. "Anyways, I have
to go. I promised Carrie I'd help her set up. See ya later tonight."

	With that, I rushed out the door without waiting for a response. I
had better things to do tonight than sit around and be the suffering,
put upon youngest brother. I climbed in my car and turned on the radio
and started the engine. As I drove through my wonderful little
neighborhood, I thought more and more about the party. All I could
think about was Chris. In a social setting. Without school to get in
the way. It was a rare free opportunity to see him outside of classes
without being alone. It was gonna be great.

		*	*	*

	I rang the doorbell and stood patiently outside Carrie's front
door. I checked around to make sure none of the upperclass neighbors had
called the police to report a "gangly young ruffian harassing the
Spencer house". I chuckled to myself as the door opened and Carrie let
me in.

	"Hi Josh! How are you? I'm so glad you could come! Come on in. Not
everyone is here yet but that's cool because we have... refreshments.
Oh my god... are the chips getting stale? You haven't had one yet.
Anyways, have a good time, 'kay?" Before she ran off, I caught her
with one last question.

	"Ummm... is Chris here yet?" I tried to play it as cool as possible.
"He said he was going to tryout for the soccer team and he asked me to
give him some advice... on how to make-- uh, on how to make the team."
Oooh. Good one, Joshie. 

	"Chris said he's going to be a little late. When I told him what
time the party was going to be at, he said he'd have to come a little
later. He and his dad are having dinner together, it's their weekly
tradition." 

	I mentally kicked myself for forgetting. I remembered that Chris
had once told me that he and his dad tried spend some quality time
together each week. The thing was that his mother had died during
childbirth, leaving Chris, his older brother, and dad. I knew that his
dad was a really cool guy but his brother never seemed to understand
that it wasn't Chris's fault. I just wanted to take the asshole down
and beat that simple concept into his head, but I kept trying to see
it from his POV. 

	I sighed and sat down on the couch, almost doing a double take
as I heard the leather under me. After reassuring myself that I was an
INVITED GUEST, I relaxed and sat there for a while. There couldn't
have been more than about 20 people there, but I assumed there had to
be more because Carrie's house was like a compound. Like Southfork
without the trampy blond chick. I groaned as the Dallas theme song
stuck in my head. Thanks, mom. I would have rather been drowned in the
bathtub but you had to "save" me and make me watch TV with you. Jeez...

		*	*	*

	"....ok, so then after Jennie found Ethan in the sauna with the
girl who goes to Oakridge, she was like totally telling him off. And there
we were sitting there watching this happen. It was like we were in
some parallel universe or something!" And so and so on. I sat in a
$150 wicker chair listening to this preppie girl tell us all about the
"big shocker with Ethan and Jennie". That was the selling point of the
party. The "broken couple" would be there. Live. In the flesh.

	The neverending saga proved to become a little much, so I excused
myself from the small group at the table and trudged back into the
kitchen. The party was in full force now and still no sign of Chris,
but I was still hopeful. I dug around in the cooler and pulled out a
can of Mountain Dew. It was either drink that or gag down Zima. The
kitchen was dark and filled with cigarette smoke and I had to wave it
out of my eyes. I could hear Everclear blaring from the stereo in the
family room and I remembered Carrie's offer from the other day.

	I pushed my way through a group who was just standing around...
looking cool. As I made my way to the stairs, I figured there must
have been damn near 300 people crammed into the house. And from there,
I assumed that if Chris got here, I'd never see him until it was too
late and he was leaving. My heart sank and I trudged up the stairs,
fighting back the lump in my throat. Yet another missed opportunity.

	It took a while, but I finally found Carrie's room. Damn, her
"room" was bigger than my whole house it seemed. I sat down on her chaise
lounge and leaned back as I searched for the remote control to the 24"
TV. After finding a few girl magazines and an empty Kotex box (ugh) I
found the remote control and switched the thing on.

	It was like some heavenly oasis for couch potatoes. There had
to be  at least 200 channels available. She even had the Japanese Bloody
Anime channel! Holy shit. I kept flipping until I came upon the movie
network and was pleased to discover the Starship Troopers was just
starting. I smiled and settled back to watch giant bugs rip people in
half.

		*	*	*

	It happened. At just about 6:43 pm, just as Johnny Rico was promoted
to lieutenant... the door opened. I didn't think too much of it and
didn't turn around, assuming that the two horndogs would find
somewhere else to concieve a demon prep spawn.

	"Hey! All right. Starship Troopers!" 

	It was Chris. My heart almost stopped as I turned around to look
at him.

	"Josh! What's up, man?" He smiled and I felt like I was going to
melt into a little puddle of teenaged hormonal goo. I looked at him
standing there. He was wearing silky white Adidas pants with a blue
trim, a dark blue Nike t-shirt, and... those sunglasses perched above
his head. Oh how I wanted to be nice.

	"Hey Chris. I'm just hangin' out." I wanted to say more but I
just sat there, my eyes fixed on the screen. He didn't leave because, I
swear to God, I could fell his aura behind me. 

	"Well... do you mind if I hang out with you? Carrie said if I
didn't like the party, I could come chill out in her room. Is that what
she said to you?" He was trying so hard. There was nothing but sweet
friendliness in his voice. But I couldn't let it happen.

	"Yeah, whatever." I bit my lip and kept telling myself... he'll
get a girlfriend or say the 'F' word... don't let it happen.

	He stood there for a moment longer and sat down on the floor next
to me. He wrapped his arms around his legs and we sat and watched the
movie for a while. I tried to stay as still has possible, my baggy
jeans hiding the throbbing hardon. After about 15 minutes, Chris
finally said something.

	"Josh. Are you ok? I mean, I know you're not usually gonna talk my
ear off but you seem kinda down. Are you ok?"

	I wanted to tell him so bad. Oh God. I fought back tears and
looked down at my hands. "I just want to be alone right now." It was the
hardest damn thing I'd ever said to anyone. I had the chance to at
least talk to him, but I couldn't.

	"Oh...ok." He said in a small voice. He got up off the floor and
walked over to the door. Then he turned around and said in almost a
whisper, "Bye Josh."

	The door clicked shut and I couldn't hold it back anymore. Tears
rolled down my cheeks as I bit my lower lip. Why did I have to be such
an asshole? I rubbed my face and shut off the TV. Somehow saving the
world from giant bugs didn't seem that significant.

	After a few seconds of thought, I decided that I'd try and salvage
things. I hurried out of the room and down the stairs, searching for
my blond hunk. Alas, he was nowhere to be found so I searched until I
found Carrie. 

	"Carrie!" I shouted over the deafening music, "Did Chris leave?!"

	"Yeah! He said that he didn't feel so good!" She yelled back, "Did
you talk to him like you wanted?! If you didn't, I can give you his
phone number!"

	I quickly pulled out my pocket pen and shouted at her for the
numbers. I made them out over the blaring noise and wrote them down on
my hand. I thanked Carrie and rushed my way to the door and out into
the cool May evening. I nearly broke my neck on the damp driveway
getting to my car and once inside, I tried not to speed. But shit
happens.

		*	*	*

	I tore open the front door to my house and rushed through my house.
My mom and dad were sitting on the front couch watching an old "All in
the Family" episode. My dad identified with Archie Bunker. 

	After saying goodnight, I clunked up the stairs, ignoring my
parents shouting, and rushed into my bedroom and landed on the bed. Pulling
the telephone off the hook, I dialed the numbers that were still
implanted in my memory. 

	Sitting there, my hands were shaking like leaves and I kept praying
to myself that he would talk to me. The phone rang three or four times
before I heard a deep, manly voice answer. "Hello?"

	"Hi. Is Chris there?" I tried to sound as casual as possible.

	"Uhhh...yeah. I think so. Hold on just a minute." The phone clunked
as it was set down and I realized that this was the moment of truth. I
hoped to God that he would be there...

	"Hello?" It was him.

	"H-h-hi. Is this Chris?" I stammered into the phone.

	"Yeah. Who's this?" I could hear something in his voice. It sounded
like happiness but there was no way I'd bet on it.

	"This is Josh. I just wanted to call and apologize for the way I
acted at the party. I've just been really stressed with school."

	"It's cool, man. Like I said, you're not usually much of a talker.
I was just kinda worried because you've been so quiet. Hell, you've been
quiet since middle school, but hey, that's cool. I still love ya."

	I had to put down the reciever and catch my breath. God, he was
such a sweetheart. I composed myself, "Heh. Thanks. One thing surprised
me. I didn't know you liked Starship Troopers."

	"Are you kidding?! That's my favorite movie! I love the part
where the one guy with the cute eyes gets torn in half! He's like
GACK....ughhhhh..." I laughed for a solid minute, he sounded so cool. 

	"Did you hear that the director of the movie filmed the shower
scene naked because the actors were uncomfortable?" Oh yeah, Josh. Way to
sound hetero.

	"You're not serious! I'd be so freaked out. Paul Verhoeven is like
60 years old. He must have had a thing for Casper Van Dien." 

	There it was again. I tried to ignore it. I changed the subject,
"Have you heard about the Godzilla remake? It's out now." I couldn't
believe I was actually talking to him.

	"Oh yeah! I hear it's not too bad but nothing could compare to
the originals. At least Matthew Broderick is in it. Why do you ask? Are
you going to see it?" I could hear that odd eagerness in his voice
again.

	"Well, yeah. I'd thought about it. Do you wanna... go with me
if I do?" I bit my lip and waited anxiously for his reply.

	"That'd be awesome! My dad promised to take me but he's so busy
with work and teaching at UCLA. He hasn't had much time to spend with me."
There was such a sadness in his voice when he talked about his dad, it
made me feel so bad. I wanted to just hold him.

	"Well, it's playing tommorow. I think there is a show 6:25. Does
that sound cool to you?" As I talked, I felt more and more comfortable.

	"That sounds so cool. We would get back around 8:30, right? I don't
wanna be up too late on a school night. But it's almost the end of
the year so I can goof off a little. What time?"

	"What time for what?" What the hell was he getting at?

	"What time do you want to pick me up, silly? You have your drivers
license to kill so unless you want my older brother or your parents to
drive, it's on your head, homeboy." He laughed.

	"Oh! Ok.. heh, sorry about that. I can come get you at 6pm and we can
go to the theatre. How does that sound?" I was making a friggin' DATE
with my dream guy!

	"That sounds perfect! See you then?"

	"See you then. Bye, Chris."

	"Bye Josh. Sweet dreams." And then he was gone. All I had left was
the empty sound of the dial tone so I hung up the phone. As I sat on
the edge of my bed, it sunk in what had happened. The one guy who I
had lusted after ever since I knew I had a penis...was going to go to
the movies with me. It wasn't wild animal sex, but it was still pretty
cool.

To be continued...