Date: Tue, 18 Jan 2011 17:10:35 +0000 (UTC)
From: deanstar@comcast.net
Subject: Finding him Adrift chapter 1

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction, I was 18 or older when it was
written and this is only intended for those who are 18 or older themselves.
The story involves situations, both sexual and non-sexual, that involve
homosexual relationships.  Some characters involved in said relationships
are under the age of 18 (in their High School years).  If such material
offends you, if it is illegal for you to view such material because of
where you live and/or because of your age please leave now.  All rights to
this story belong to Dean Star, do not reproduce or re-use (with the
exception of personal use) without prior written permission.

Note: This story is out of two perspectives: a closeted jock that hates the
idea he is gay and a nerdy kid who accepts he is gay but hates how people
treat him because he is gay.  It is a work in progress, both will struggle
with their feelings and it might take some time for them to get to the
point that they are comfortable 100% with who they are, this will not be a
jerk off flick from chapter 1.  More of a character study into two sides of
dealing with your sexuality.  It will get dark, especially for the jock
character, not for the faint of heart.  Words like fag/faggot, homo, etc
will be used in a derogatory manner for the sake of the story.

Edit: I re-submitted this in txt form since the one in html was hard to
read for everyone.  Also I need to say thank you to "The Truth" who emailed
me and pointed out many of my mistakes, hopefully I got most of them!

()()()()()()()()

His story isn't one of those prissy stories where you end up with the
person of your dreams one random day where the two of you meet in the hall
at school, your feelings suddenly overwhelming them to the point that you
must confess your love for one another.  Shit like that doesn't happen in
real life, real life is a lot darker and messier.  He never understood
those stories online where two people meet up and just get each other, they
know the other is gay and the both of them are willing to sacrifice
everything for each other.

Where the fuck was his prince charming to make everything better?

Did that happen to the author of those stories?  Was he the only one
struggling with his feelings beyond the ten seconds the kids do in their
stories?  How come it had to be so bad for him when it seemed like everyone
else got their happy ending in high school, followed by their steamy sex
scenes where they have the most intense orgasm in their life the first time
a dick was shoved up their ass?

Where was his new kid from California that brought him out and protected
him from all the pain he would endure if anyone EVER found out about his
homo feelings?  Where was his big athlete with shining eyes that was
struggling with his own sexuality but as soon as the two of them looked
into the other's eyes they just knew everything would be alright?  It
looked like there would be no happy endings for Cole Yaxley.

No, no homo thoughts like that today, Cole.  He thinks to himself as he
stands against his locker, the rest of the school moving about the halls as
if he didn't even exist.  His eyes dart from side to side as people walk
past him, did they know?  Did he give off any signs that gave away those
dark thoughts that are ruining his life?  Why him, of all people, why did
he have to be a pervert who wanted to touch other boys?  Why was he the
fucking school faggot?

"Yo Cole over here!"  A group of his buddies call out, their cat calls at
two of the cheerleaders walking past them cruel, immature.  Both girls
giggle at the groups words; hotty, babe, nice rack, love them legs!  He
could tell their giggles were fake, a defense mechanism, he knew their
discomfort and could see it in the back of their glassy doe eyes.  He could
see it on their faces, the same discomfort he would feel if anyone else
found out about the thoughts he let creep out of the dark side of his
brain, the side he went to so many times in his life that now it was a part
of him he could no longer ignore.

No, he would have it worse then cat calls from a bunch of horny teenagers.
His friends were homophobic at best, calling anyone not on the team a
faggot.  Cole prayed late at night that no one would ever find out about
him otherwise he knew the people he called friends would do a lot worse
then what they were doing to the two girls.

He approaches his friends, hands in his pockets and head down to the floor.
Cole turns his head unintuitively towards the girls, their smiles flash at
him fake and vindictive, the entire exchange vulgar and unappealing to him.
He looks at the girl's round tits and tight ass, too many curves and too
soft, too sweet.  Cole could find nothing appealing about them at all.  He
could never understand the attraction to something so frail and breakable.

His buddy Max, tall with skin the color of dark chocolate, captain of the
football team and most popular guy in school, self proclaimed "fag killer"
throws his arm around Cole's back.  The feel of his muscled arm over his
shoulder was strong, thick, hard and salty.  Cole shifts his hands to hide
his growing erection, his mind verbally chastising himself for his
uncontrollable physical reaction.

"Nice tits, shitty ass."  Cole says robotically, head nodding to the
cheerleaders, bile rising up from his stomach at the thought of even
looking at the two of them again.

Max snorts in response, "Yeah I know these white girls never have an ass.
Too bad we have no colored girls to show them up!"  He hits Cole in the
shoulder; Cole never understood why guys did it.  It hurt, was it a show
off of his machismo?  "I never knew you to be an ass man."

Cole smiles, if only he knew, then frowns at his thoughts.  "Takes one to
know one you fag."  The word slipped out so easily, too easily.  Every time
he said the word it was like a fire to his brain that threatened to consume
him.  As if saying the word made him a faggot, made him a disgusting
pervert who wanted to fuck around and blow any guy with a dick.  Only it
wasn't the word but the thoughts in his head that made him one and that
dark place those thoughts came from was uncontrollable, even the fire in
his brain was afraid to get near it.

"Fuck you!"  Max laughed.

"Not tonight hon." He mocks, the bile in his stomach turning to stone.  Max
hits him on the arm again in the same spot, the muscle begins to throb and
Cole thinks that it is going to be another bruise to add to the impressive
collection already on his body.

Cole's eyes suddenly become frozen, he has to hold them still because they
wonder any time Benji Harrington walks past him.  The boy is fit like a
soccer star but doesn't play any games.  In fact he is one of three
students in their grade that isn't on an activity, the other two being the
biggest stoners in school.  No one knew why Benji Harrington never joined a
single school activity

Benji wasn't a stoner, he was a loner.  One of those kids no one really
talked to, a total mystery to everyone in school.

The problem with Benji was the way he made Cole feel, the racing heart and
the bated breath.  He was basically fucking panting like a dog whenever the
boy walked by.

Benji was one of those boys you couldn't pick out a particular outstanding
characteristic, most would consider his looks so-so, common.  He was tall
and lithe, his upper body like a swimmer's build but his legs always looked
so skinny to Cole.  Benji's hair was always amiss with small brown curls,
as were his baggy clothes: t-shirts with graphic sayings or characters,
jeans that hugged his waist yet baggy at his feet.  The one thing he seemed
to splurge on were his sneakers, Cole believed he never saw Benji wear the
same shoe twice His face soft with a Romanesque, pointed nose and eyes that
always looked glassy over his hazel iris.  Knowing eyes, eyes Cole always
thought were looking at him and judging him when others just let his antics
slide.

Worse was his personality, Benji was a nice guy who would go out of his way
to help you even if he didn't like you.  Cole never understood why Silas,
Benji's older brother outed him in the middle of the cafeteria in such a
horrible way.  Cole was scared that his past association with Benji would
equate into him being a flamer as well.  Luckily being on the football team
and being best buds with Max, who has slept with over thirty girls in
school, was enough that the past association never even came up.

Most of the time Cole didn't have a clean shirt to put on so he just threw
on his sports jacket and sweat through most of the day when he didn't have
any clean shirts to wear.

Fuck, Cole screams in his head realizing he was looking again at the boy as
he walked past him, looking at that perfectly round bubble butt.  No, no
fag thoughts Cole!  None of that, you're not one of those sick freaks!  You
will not look at that little homo ever again!  Never!

Look at what life turned him into, a sick homo looking at other boys in the
hall like they were a piece of meat.  Like all they were to him was a sex
toy, something to get him off at night instead of his left hand and some
spit.  He was so disgusted in his feelings he would always wank himself
until it hurt, punishing himself for those fairy feelings they put into his
head.  It was their entire fault, if it never happened he wouldn't be a
homo.  If it never happened he wouldn't want to walk over to Benji
Harrington, pin him to the lockers, smell that cologne he wore that got his
dick rock hard and shove his tongue down the other boy's throat.  Want to
have sex with him, want to hold his hand, want to date the fucking guy and
make fucking homo love with him.

No, this was their fault and this was Benji's fault.  Benji was a homo, the
whole school knew.  His own brother hated the fag enough to out him in the
middle of the school two years ago.  The kid was so horrified he didn't
deny it, how could you when it was announced by family in the middle of the
cafeteria?

No, it was Benji's fault for being a perverted homo himself.  If Cole never
knew he was gay then he would never have these feelings.

It was their fault, it was Benji's fault.

()()()()()()()()()

His story isn't one of those prissy stories where you end up with the
person of your dreams one random day where the two of you meet in the hall
at school, your feelings suddenly overwhelming them to the point that you
must confess your love for one another.  Shit like that doesn't happen in
real life, real life is a lot darker and messier.  He never understood
those stories online where two people meet up and just get each other, they
know the other is gay and the both of them are willing to sacrifice
everything for each other.

Where the fuck was his prince charming to make everything better?

Benji was the school queer the day his brother stood in the middle of the
school cafeteria, jumping on top of the table to announce to the world "my
brother Ben is a cock sucking faggot!"

The funny thing was Benji wasn't even in the room and wouldn't hear about
it until two periods later when his best friend Adam told him to fuck off
and call him a queer.

Benji couldn't figure out how his brother knew, Benji never even admitted
it out loud that he was gay.  The word was too damaging, too heavy of a
word to say out loud and not expect it to land on the ground for everyone
to see.

Somehow Silas knew and decided that he hated his brother enough to tell the
rest of the world.  His parents would sit him down after that to talk to
him about his choices, he tried to lie and say he wasn't gay and when he
failed at that he said he was just confused.  That seemed to warm them over
a little.

Til this day, two year later he hasn't had a single conversation with his
father while his mother simply no longer talked to anyone, she locked
herself up in her room and the mother he once knew never really came out of
it.  Even though Benji doesn't live in the main house he knows his parents
haven't been sleeping in the same bed or room since his outing.

Benji walks out of third period with his head down and eyes alert, darting
back and forth as he maneuvered through the hall full of kids.  It was like
a stampede, the crowd always moved against you no matter what way you were
going.

Maneuvering around the pride of jocks at the T-intersection he was relieved
when their attentions were on two cheerleaders, Merissa and Melinda,
sisters, walking down the hall.

M & M, as they liked to call themselves, were friends with Benji.  They
were the only two that stayed friends with Benji his entire life.  Right
now, besides online friends, they were the only two people in his life that
still spoke to him.

Cole was giving him that odd look of anger and sadness he always gave
Benji.  He could never understand the look; as if he somehow physically
hurt the big jock and at the same time broke his heart.  He couldn't even
figure out why the big guy even knew he existed since both he and Max
decided they no longer wanted to be friends after seventh grade.  Their
loss for both his family, Max and especially Cole.

The only problem was Cole with his bright green puppy dog eyes that always
looked at Benji with conflicting feelings dancing behind his eyes.  Plus
Benji really found Cole attractive in a way he couldn't put into words.
Physically Cole was almost a perfection, his only flaw that he was shorter
then almost all the guys in his grade.  Cole had a strong jaw line that
looked threatening but the color of his eyes made his face bright,
inviting.  When they were still friends people always approached Cole in a
friendly matter, especially if they saw his kind smile.  The vanity in
Benji appreciated the muscles Benji kept up with and the small waist, he
would give an arm and a leg to see his taunt bubble butt in the locker room
but Cole always had shorts or a t-shirt on, even when they went swimming.
Benji wondered if anyone else noticed him wearing the clothes and wondered
if they were as curious about the habit as he was.

Benji knew that Cole was a nice guy deep down even if he couldn't
understand the odd looks or why Cole no longer wanted to be his friend.  No
one really picked on Benji most of the school and his family just ignored
his existence.  The few times someone tempted to mess with him when Cole
was around he would help Benji, then give him that angry yet sad look as if
it were all his fault.

Defiant to not look defeated by Cole's odd look he made his way past the
jocks and into English class.  Just two more years.  He thought to himself
as he took his seat.  Two more years and I am out of this place.  No more
small minded yokels, hello big city where no one cares who or what you are.

()()()()()()()()()

School let out at 3:25 pm, the front doors opened and the underclassmen all
ran out with their arms waving in their temporary freedom.  Cole had a hard
time hiding the smile on his face against their antics, he wished that he
still had that feeling when he left school.  That feeling died in the
second grade.

Cole walks with his hands in his coat pocket, the air cold without an
undershirt on.  The buses are all evenly lined and quickly he jumps on
number 7 and takes his seat in the back.  No one takes a single seat near
him, a perimeter of four empty seats on both side begin to form.  Cole
rolls his eyes and Benji gets on the bus and sits four seats in front of
him.

Cole cusses at the thoughts that begin to whirl around in his head, the
fantasies of Benji coming back and fucking him in the back of the bus while
all the boys watch (somehow the girls did not get on the bus that day).
That when they get to Cole's stop both he and Benji would get off holding
hands and walk to his house proudly.

"Fuck!"  He yelled, everyone on the bus cringing with the exception of
Benji who just sat there with earbuds in his ears and eyes in his book.

Scowling, howling, brows furrowing he stands and marches up three seats to
yank the cord out of Benji's ear.  Benji winces, Cole could see the pain on
his face and see he is about to mouth off until he sees Cole standing in
front of him.

:"What Cole?"  He barks, his voice smooth like candy and just as sweet.

"What's up?"  No, Cole thought, it sounds like he is interested and not
picking on him enough.  "...fag?"  He adds for good measure, his gut bursts
in shame.

He watches and Benji rolls his eyes, "I'm not interested in your brand of
crazy today Cole, go pick on someone else."  And he notices Benji cannot
even look him in the eye, was he that much of a monster?  Was his father
right?

Cole clenches his fist just as the bus stops, the driver looking at him
through the mirror knowingly.  "It's your stop, son."  The old man calls
out.

Giving Benji one last look of anger Cole turns on his heel to exit the bus
and turns to watch it drive off.  He sees through the back window that
Benji stands up to take a seat at the back of the bus where he was sitting
just moments before.

He smiled as he thought, Maybe the fag does like me, maybe he is sniffing
the seat and jerking off thinking about me while on the bus.  Cole laughs
at the thought and then is instantly disgusted with himself enough to spit
the saliva out of his mouth.  He couldn't will himself enough to swallow
it.

Cole's house isn't much, a rancher with three bedrooms and a nice porch out
front with old wooden furniture Cole's grandfather gave them when they
moved into the place.  In the summer Cole takes good care of the front
yard, his father takes care of the sandlot out back which usually consists
of him yelling at Cole to pull the weeds up when they get too bad.  If Cole
was able to feel shame he would feel it for the way his back yard looked.

>From the outside Cole looks and sees a normal house, one that looks like
every house up and down the street.

When Cole finally approaches the house, each step heavier then the next,
and opens the front door he is assaulted by the peeling paint on the walls
and the couches with moth holes and hundreds of stains, almost a rainbow of
color.

Cole knew each stain; the bid red one was when his father first hit him as
a child and he bled out all over the couch.  The yellow stain on the
shoulder was when his brother hit him in the gut hard enough hat he threw
up his lunch all over the couch and was forced to clean it up.

A car door slammed out front causing Cole to break his concentration, he
could see the yellow electrical truck out front and knew his father was
walking to the front door.  When it opened there wasn't a sign that Cole
came home that afternoon.  His father would walk into the kitchen and drink
himself asleep.  Cole would come home after dark to find his father asleep
on the rainbow couch.

In the morning he would be gone until his father woke up.

No, Cole didn't live the easy life, he lived a life Pain.  Both on the
inside and on the out.

()()()()()()()()()

After Cole got off the bus Benji took his seat in the back so he didn't
have to see all of the kids talking about his confrontation with the bully.

No longer able to concentrate on his book Benji flings it into his bag and
looks out the window the rest of the bus ride home.  Why is Cole being such
a dick?  We used to be friends.

Memories of all the times he and Cole spent time together before middle
school came back to him; the week they had off of school because of the big
snow storm.  The two of them the only kids brave enough to escape their
warm houses to build a roofless igloo.

The time that the two if them snuck into the woods, both of them frightened
that they were lost and wouldn't be able to find their way out.  Benji
ended up being he brave one that day but never pointed it out to Cole out
of respect.

Now the two of them haven't spoken in years yet he could still feel that
closeness that he felt with Cole when they were kids.  Why did he still
want to get close to someone that clearly hated him?

The bus shifted to a halt outside one of the biggest houses in town, the
envy of most of the residents.  The house was really modern, by a small
man-made lake with croaking toads and fish swimming in its waters.  The
house itself was odd looking, as if ten large squares of varying height
were just dropped one after the other, touching on their sides.

Benji hated the look the kids gave him as he walked off the bus, his head
hung down in shame.  Ashamed the way even the bus driver was envious of
him.  Ashamed that he had to punch in a key code in order to just get past
the front gate.  Ashamed that he did not walk into the house but around it
and into a smaller guest house in the back, far enough away that you could
barely see the other when the trees grew their leaves back in the spring.
A particularly large oak tree blocking most of the view.

Benji hadn't lived in the main house since his outing both to his parents
request and his own wishes.  Even after his brother left last year for
college he chose to stay in this little off shoot of the house.  It
provided everything he needed and his parents gave him three hundred
dollars a week for food and necessities.

It was every kids dream, their own place far enough away form the house
that as long as the blinds were drawn you could do whatever you wanted.

Benji moved slowly through his living room, tossing his bag and jacket on
the couch.  As he walked down the small hall he kicked off his shoes, in
the bathroom his pants and shirt were tossed on the floor and into the bath
tub.  In his bedroom he carefully took off his underwear and crumbled them
into a ball before depositing them into the wash.

He spent the night in his bed, the cover drawn up to his chin.  It was day
fifty three since he had seen his parents, the only reason he knew they
still existed was the car out front coming and going; the deposits of cash
into his account.  The lights going on and off at night and the dinner
parties they would have with their friends, their blinds closed in case
anyone were to ask who was staying in their guest house.

No, Benji didn't live the easy life, he lived a life alone.  Both at school
and at home.

()()()()()()()()()

Author's note: Let me know if you liked this that way I know if I should
continue it or not.  Email: deanstar@comcast.net .  I have half of chapter
2 completed so it will be available soon!

Thanks for reading!