Date: Tue, 04 Mar 2003 16:45:55 -0600
From: Michael Yost <myost@charter.net>
Subject: Faggots do too Skateboard 1/1  high school

Fags Do Too Skateboard! Copyright 2001 by Chris Yost

It's strange the effect a quasi-breakup of a relationship has on your
days and nights. I won't say my life. It has no effect on the rest of my
life. No way. Well, maybe just a little bit of an effect,  Pete thought
to himself as he pulled up his calf-length Nike sock over his slender
foot. All right, to be honest, his downright bony foot. He got his
skateboard, ran down the stairs, said good-bye to his mother, and then
he left his home.

During an evening last night spent at a rave crowded with young people
who looked expensive with the clothes they brought from malls, Pete had
some serious thoughts about breaking up with his boyfriend, Josh. All
about him and Josh were kids who were wearing clothes which they hoped
would advertise the personalities they hoped that prospective lovers
would be fooled into thinking they they had. Boys wearing loose hip-hop
jeans sliding down the peaks of their slender hip bones. Their chests
covered up with a T-shirts, and a open flannel shirts. Hundred dollar
name brand sport shoes on their feet. Other boys wore bits of leather,
aggressive face jewelry, and torn T-shirts. And still other boys wore
gothic black T-shirts draped over tight black jeans. Their necks
decorated with satanic chains. Josh couldn't help but make a couple of
sarcastic comments about a couple of boys wearing tank tops welded to
their chests and wearing leather pants superglued to their hips and
thighs. He thought they were just the wrong way. A way, way wrong way
side of looking too gay. What's with their calf-length laced up
boots...and what is with the make up? Give it a break!

It wasn't that his perhaps-soon-to-be-ex boyfriend Josh, who still
wasn't outed, was not completly intolerant of swishy looking guys. Well
not completely. Pete noticed he liked to make fun of people who were
freaks, delinquents, goths, and anyone else who didn't fit the "Book of
Josh" 's idea of proper attirement: smart; almost preppy, sporty
clothes.

Which had been the reason Pete decided that for their evening out that
night, he was going to forego his usual cargo pants and Hawaiian shirt,
worn sometimes with his "Jesus Loves You" T-shirt. He didn't mean the
T-shirt to be a kind of sarcastic fashion statement. Some of his gay
friends took it that way. Where is a hand to hold on to when you're just
trying to be yourself? Instead of his habitual style of clothing, he
changed his syle for Josh. He wore a Nautical brand polo shirt Josh had
given him for Christmas, and a nice pair of jeans that were not that
loose! He so drew the line at Josh's attempts to persuade him to shorten
his hair and spike it up a bit with jell. Out of a mood to be kind of
"Well what do you think of this Josh?", he put eyeliner on one of his
eyes. When Josh finally came by to pick him up, he showed his lustful
appreciation of the added mystery the eyeliner gave to the luster of his
hazel eye. Then he promptly made sure Pete wiped it off because, come on
now Pete, sure it's cute, in a scary way, but it makes you look like
such a screaming faggot. This was after Josh maneuvered him to be
pressed against the sheets of his unmade bed. And also after Pete pulled
up his thong underwear. A costume piece Josh insisted he start to wear
under his clothes. After Josh had called him a pussy while they were
doing it. Pete got so mad, he jumped out of bed, slamming his feet into
his dirty hightops, then pushing his feet through his jeans. It didn't
work out too well. Josh laughed at him while he untangled his shoes and
legs from his jeans. Pete ended up being tackled back into bed.

After Josh was done cleaning him up from sure signs of his sexual
orientation, all signs of offending eye liner,  they went to the rave.

How could Pete describe Josh? Casual expensive: Nautical clothes, Tommy
Hillfiger type. Radically athletic; handsome, and aggressive, slim and
muscled. Someone who took you to places he knew would be absent of any
of his preppy, jock friends who might, gasp gasp, see him with his
slightly too slender, endearingly gawky adolescent boyfriend who was a
year younger than him. Such a girlish cast to Pete's  shy down cast
eyes. The way Pete would quizzically cock his head to one side, and kind
of sway on his feet. Tragic isn't it? 'Stand a little straighter Pete;
stop ducking your head. What are you afraid of? Someone looking at
you?'  Josh would tease him. While Pete would question Josh: 'What are
you afraid of?'

At the rave, in the blackest, most dark part of the huge warehouse
converted over for dancing, Josh would stare at certain bitching looking
girls till they got the courage to come over to their table. Frightful
looking sluts, Pete would think. What with their tube tops over their
halters covering, but barely covering, their adolescent, sweaty breasts
in their push-up bras. Josh would tease and ogle them to make then
giggle and squeal. As if that wasn't enough, he then would hit the dance
floor with the one he considered to be the most choice. He'd leave Pete
stranded with the "reject". Sometimes the "reject" would stumble through
a conversation with him. "Stumble" being the operative word, because
Pete really didn't feel much like talking while watching his lover
mixing it up with a leggy girl. He did seem to be drawn to the long
ones, Pete noticed.

Gradually, the "reject" would stop making senseless noises, which were
only proving to be hurtful to both her and Pete's ears, and she would
find a herd of people which more reflected her likes or dislikes.

If Pete dared to gravitate to guys who he thought might share common
interests with him, guys who might even want to dance with him, he knew,
simply knew, it would be taken offensively by Josh, who would remind him
he came with someone and he would be leaving with the same. Remember, or
I'll die.

So Pete would sit quietly waiting for Josh to come back from the dance
floor with his lady girl in tow. Gradually her crowd would surround
them. Her friends. Her people. And they would all have a round-robin
conversation about school, and stuff going on; someone would talk about
drugs they had on them. 'Want to share? Anyone buying? Know about any
parities? Heard someone got busted.' And in the swirl of conversation,
Pete would find any artificial topic he could come up with in order to
be included. When what he really wanted to do was to put his head on
Josh's shoulder and ask him, 'When can we be alone together?'

After Josh exchanged phone numbers with her, after he had danced with
her and her friends numerous times, he took Pete to his home. His home
where Josh's father, Daniel, waited while watching television.

No judgment here, not even a need for tolerance,. There was nothing to
tolerate. There was only acceptance from Josh's father, Daniel, who was
glad his son had a nice, if some what timid boyfriend. Through Daniel
had to admit, he always thought his son would hit on the more athletic,
clean-cut type.

When Daniel first saw Pete in a pair of filthy CCS armed forces
technical cargo pants and a huge Hawaiian shirt worn over a long sleeved
T-shirt, he wanted to yank up Pete's sleeves to check out his arms for
possible needle scars. Actually, he would have found some scars on
Josh's arms months ago. Josh had indulged in a little horsing around
with some crack cocaine.

Daniel was a stockbroker who was good at running up numbers: selling
high, buying low. He and his ex-lover, Louis, Josh's parents, adopted
him when he was twelve. Josh had been living up till then with Louis'
sister, Sally McGovern. Josh had no idea who his real father was. Sally
had told him a glorious story about how his father was a fighter pilot
in the Vietnam War. Or was he a medic? How about a grunt in the
infantry? Who the fuck cares as long as you know son, that your father
was, well, he was just glorious.

Sally moved him from trailer park to trailer park. Squalor to squalor.
Josh was always the kid in school no one wanted to talk to because of
his ill-fitting clothes which smelled up the room. Loneliness and
rejection were the bylines of his life till his uncle Louis took him
away from all it all after his mother's death. She had driven her car
head on into a semi truck while she was driving the wrong way on the
interstate. Life after her death was a whirl of shopping trips. Josh
remade himself. Any dream though of his newly acquired twenty-seven year
old dad being a good buddy to him quickly died a horrid death. His dad
was a professional mercenary who was as strict as a prison guard, or so
Josh thought.

Josh lived with his dad and his partner Daniel for five years, till his
dad noticed a lithesome young actor in his twenties, Leo. All of which
happened to break up their cozy, little home. It was still a cozy home,
abut, a somewhat lonely home, now that dad was missing from the daily
routine, and from much the ritual of their life. But they survived Leo.
Still a family. Just a different sort of family. An inferior sort of
family, Josh would think privately. He had lovely, if unfair dreams,
involving Leo and semi trucks.

His father and dad appreciated the fact he did not want to live his life
openly gay in middle school or high school. He got enough grief at first
for having two guys for parents. He desired nothing more after living
with his drunken mother, and moving from trailer court to trailer court,
going to a different school almost yearly, than to be accepted for once,
just for once, by the up-scale kids. The kids he always admired. The
jocks, the golden boys and girls in school who everyone liked, envied,
or resented. He was a star enough athlete who focused his talents on
football, to be suitably popular enough. He was known as a kind of a
bastard with the girls. He always targeted girls who were kind of
popular. Parasite girls, he called them, girls who hung out on the
fringes of the groups of the truly popular starlets at school. He'd date
them, use them, drop them, and then make excuses for the lengthy periods
of time when he wasn't dating anyone else after he dropped so-and-so. '
Hey, I'm a player, what the hell do I need with a steady girl friend,
get real,'  he would tell his friends.

Once they were up stairs Josh started to undress Pete. Josh was always
slightly doped up from the pot which Pete always abstained from. "Wimp,"
Josh laughed, telling him it would help loosen him up. He also was
always slightly drunk from the sixpack of Coors he handily kept in a
cooler in the back seat of his 1985 Jaguar. Luckily, his father
tolerated pot, having been a child of the Eighties. Josh mauled Pete
with a serious roughness while the whirlpool bath was filling up. It
always made Pete's heart slightly skip with embarrassment, knowing
Josh's father was downstairs while they were passionately playing and
taking a bath together.

The problem was Josh kept trying to push him into doing things he wasn't
comfortable to do yet. He was even rough. Josh liked to wrestle more
than he liked to cuddle. Sometimes he was even got a little angry when
Pete went all nervous and stiff when he would probe him with a finger.
"Just a finger come on, Pete." Always the gentleman, he'd remove the
offending digit, going back to doing what Pete was comfortable with
during their love making.

It was more than comfortable, it was fantastic for Pete, and he hoped
for Josh too. But, he could tell from Josh' demanding hands, mouth, and
cock after it was over; he wanted more than just another hand or blow
job.

So, Pete in a fit of nerves told Josh. "It's over. I mean kind of."

"What are you talking about?" Josh said, while he was busy licking at
Pete's wet ribs.

"Josh," Pete said, his eyes starting to feel moist. "I think we should
see other people."

"Exactly who do you mean by other people?" Josh said, stopping at his
rib just below his nipple.

Stop the foreplay for a momentous interrogation! "Exactly," Josh said,
getting out of the bath to dry himself off, "Who are we talking about
here? Are you seeing someone else? Or do you want to meet someone you've
been looking at? Well? Cough it up, Pete."

"No one," Pete said, giving negatives to all of Josh's questions.

"Fine. Honest, truthfully, I think your right," Josh said, watching Pete
get out of the tub, stopping Pete's hand before he could get a towel to
cover himself with. "I agree. We should be able to see other people
while we're seeing each other."

"It just seems like," Pete said, feeling awkward, going for his damp
shirt laying on the tile, "Like you want to see other people."

"Sure," Josh said, relieved. He did look at other people. He wasn't even
above touching a cute guy he met while going to clubs with his honorary
"uncle" Andre, a friend of his Dad's. Christ, he saved the fireworks for
Pete. "Listen, lets discuss this while we're watching "Jack Ass" I'm
tired. You want to?" Josh said, going over to his bed, turning on with
the remote control the television which was hung over it.

"Sure," Pete said laying himself down next to him. They both didn't
watch the antics of some comedian on MTV. Instead they laid together
wrapped skin-to-skin. Josh letting Pete know all about it: His dreams of
the day. " Parachuting, Pete. Lets's take lessons!"

Josh also told him about what happened in school. How he wanted to go to
Japan, taking him of course.

Pete listened, interjecting his own thoughts and ideas.

"Christ, Josh, I have to go home. Really, yes, really," Pete said, going
to the bathroom to gather up the rest of his clothes. Both of them kind
of avoided talking about their kind of break up.

So after their kind of a breakup of last night, Pete was now strolling
to the skateboarding park on Anna Street. He noticed a bunch of dudes
all dressed like himself, but no Josh. He had called Josh  to ask him if
he wanted to meet him at the park, but no Josh. His mouth went dry.

"What you doing?" said a voice clear out from behind him.

"Josh," Pete said, tuning around to be face to face with his kind-of-ex
lover. Such an attractive ex-lover too, with his arm wrapped around a
young girl's' waist.

"Hi, my name is Bambie." Pete could have sworn she said while the blood
rushed to his ears.

"So Josh," she said, feeling she gave Pete enough notice, "You are
serious about going to the rave with me tonight?"

"No, I'm lying. What do you think? Course you got to dig out a girl for
my man Pete here. Know anyone who owes you a favor? I was seeing someone
with light brown hair about shoulder length, no taste or style in
clothes. About five feet and six inches tall. Nice person. Really cute."

Pete waited for the punch line. Waited for Josh to say, and this
someone's name I was seeing, his name is Pete.

"What can I say?" Josh grinned, "I've been dumped. I guess this person
wants to see other people. We're just friends now."

Pete turned on his heel, walking away.

"Excuse me for a moment, I have to ask Pete abut scoring a bag for
tonight," Josh said following him.

"Hey being friends and seeing other people was your idea. Right?" Josh
hissed.

"Right. Whatever," Pete said coldly.

"What I do with girls is pretend. What I do with you is real. Got me? I
love you," Josh said, drawing two plastic cards out of his pocket.
"Present for you."

Pete took one of the cards. "Fake ID's," he breathed.

"After the rave you and I are going to Oz's. Want to watch some go-go
boys tonight?" Josh grinned.

"Josh, your father will kill you. Your dad will pistol whip you. If I
get caught my parents will be furious at me," Pete said nervously.

"The ID's are courtesy of my "uncle" Andre. Don't wimp out. Hey, I agree
with you about seeing other people. We can still have fun together.
Right?"

"I now think we, as long as you're going to be doing it with other
people, we shouldn't  be doing it  to each other anymore," Pete said
looking at the ground.

"Agreed," Josh said seriously. Fingers crossed, Josh  thought of all the
seductive ways he was going to get his good friend laid out on his back
tonight. His favorite fantasy for the night was where he would say: Hey,
Pete come over to my place and let's go swimming. I got a spare suit.
Well what do you know. I haven't got a spare suit. Hey , no problem.
We're just friends. We can skinny dipping, right? It's not like we're
going to do anything.

He had a definite strategy involving dancing all night long at Oz's with
Pete and convincing him to try a little ecstasy drug. Seducing Pete all
over again, all night long.  The boy was in the bag, Josh thought
happily.

Pete put his skate board, a Turtle Boy 2001 from Toy Machine on the
pavement. Kicking his left leg, building up speed, studying himself on
the board, he skated away from Josh. A kid in a pair of Zero cargo pants
and a huge restraint shirt, looked out at him from under his dirty
beanie. "Faggot," he swore under his breath.

Sticks and stones, Pete thought, kicking up more speed, building up a
momentum. He went into a crouch, skating up the vert ramp, carving out a
front side grind. He grabbed the nose of his board, jumping up, then
landing on it after twisting it to the side. He piloted himself into a
front side float position. Every muscle in his body went tense and
strong with excitement and freedom. All his problems with Josh, the kid,
and school evaporated as he flew. It was like he was the only person in
the world and in the sky! He ended with a perfect landing.

The kid gawked at him. "Not bad," he said in an offhanded way.

"Practice," Pete said pleased. He tuned to see how much Josh appreciated
his feat. He could go pro, if he wanted to, he was that good, but he
wasn't into skateboarding so much that he wanted it to be his life. It
was an escape from life. A way to show off only to himself what he was
made of. And if people happened to watch him: Hey, great.

Josh was watching Pete's trick till Bambie blind sided him with a
question right in the middle of Pete's front float.

Whoops, total embarrassment, thought Josh, seeing Pete's disappointed
face. Time for a recovery. "Hey, not bad, Pete. Can I try it?"

"It's not as easy as it looks," Pete said.

"Right, get out of here. You're kidding, right? We're talking kid stuff
here. I used to skateboard a little bit when I was ten. Look at your
skateboard. It's so cute what with your little blue turtle on it. Come
on. Give me a break and hand it over."

"Just go easy. All right?"

Josh watched the kid going doing a grind down a stair rail.

"No, problem," Josh said winking at Bambie.

Taking the board up the stairs, he got up on the rail with the board.
Balancing himself, he placed the skateboard sideways, then he got on it.
He piloted himself down the rail.

Crouching down, his arms out stretched, leaning way too far forwards, he
stared to hurtle down the rail too fast. The skateboard skidded across
the metal. It flew off at the end of the rail, sending Josh plowing to
the pavement. The back of his head almost hit the edge of the end of the
rail

"Are you all right!" Bambie shreaked, running to him.

"One word, one little word from you Pete, about how I told you so. Even
the slightest hint of one word!" Josh growled, rubbing his tail bone.

"Want me to take you home?" Bambie asked hopefully.

Can you just like disappear, Josh thought to himself about her.

"Hell no," Josh said stubbornly, going up the stairs, "I'm going to do
this till get it right."

The kid who had watched Pete, skated over to him. They were standing
alone together. "You've got a real strange friend there. You're gay,
right? Everyone in my school, and at the park says so."

"Yes," Pete said, watching Josh perch himself on the stair rail.

"I didn't think gays would want to skateboard," the thirteen year old
kid said, chewing up a wad of gum. Kind of looking at Pete. Kind of
looking curious, and knowingly up at him.

Pete smiled back at the boy. He understood where the kid was coming
from. What the kid was trying to hint to him about himself. He felt the
same way about himself when he was thirteen. Kind of like he knew
himself, but really didn't know himself. Didn't know what to expect of
himself, not really, not completely, not yet. Not knowing should think
of himself apart from all the stereotypes he heard about gays when he
was growing up. He watched Josh maneuver his board awkwardly down the
rail. Losing his balance, Josh jumped off the board halfway down from
his destination before he fell down.

He watched Josh go up the stairs again determined to try to do the trick
over and over again till he perfected it.

"Hey kid, faggots do too skateboard," Pete said grinning at the kid who
looked up at him a little cautiously. The kid then grinned shyly back.
Taking a hold of the hem of the kid's beanie, Pete yanked it down over
the kid's eyes.

"I'm going to get this right," Josh yelled down at Pete.

I'm sure you will someday, Pete thought, smiling and laughing at him.

the end
any comments would be nice, wanna see pete and Josh go to:
http://unotime-eleni.net/drinkmythirst/kris-characters.htm

wanna read a story about Pete and Josh in highschool?  Try Real world or
What I want http://louis3004212.nstemp.net/stories/want/want_1.html
http://louis3004212.nstemp.net/stories/real/real_1.html
Pete and Josh after they become partners,  Renaisance
http://louis3004212.nstemp.net/stories/renai/ren_1.html
and Dead boiz
http://louis3004212.nstemp.net/stories/boiz/boiz_1.html

happy reading!