Date: Fri, 11 Jun 2004 11:28:35 -0400
From: Just Jake <mission_hockey_4_life@hotmail.com>
Subject: From the Heart of a Little Guy III (highschool)

This story is a work of fiction and any resemblances to  any
person or written works are purely coincidental.  The author
retains all rights to the work, and requests that in any use
of  this  material that my rights are respected.  Please  do
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permission.   It does contain consensual sex  between  young
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*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

Jon had just stepped inside the front landing of the house, three
steps down from the main floor but with a view straight down the
very hallway that I had go through to get down and across to my
room.  The problem was that I was concealing a raging woody and
trying to avoid him seeing it as I scooted across the hall and
into my room.

With just a towel around my waist, I offered, "Just let yourself in
'kay?  Kick off your shoes and grab a seat on the couch and I'll
be right out 'kay?"

Not taking the bait and thereby giving me a clear path to my room out
of his eyesight, he said, "Nah man.  I'm not real comfortable with
that.  I'll just wait here till you're like ready."
(This is the first time it dawned on me that at times Jon sounded a
lot like Butters on South Park; not the voice, but the ever-
present hesitation in it.)

But what now.?  So I explain, "Uh, I just had a shower and I gotta get
dressed, 'kay?"

"That's cool.  Take your time."

So I felt too self conscious to ask him to turn around in case he was
looking down the hall, even though he had asked me to turn away in
the bathroom at Micheal's.  But I had an internal dilemma because
I get woodies in the shower a lot and was sporting a good one at
that time.  Wishing I at least had a bundle of clothes in my hands
in front of me I wrapped the towel as tight as I could, bunching
it in front, and raced out of the bathroom and down the hall and
into my room.  I slipped with my wet feet on the hardwood floor
and almost wiped out, but made it.

Trying to be casual and cool I put on my Adidas tear-aways and my
Dad's old Warren Moon Houston Oilers jersey.  Still, I did put on
my only pair of Calvin's because if I had a chance that Jon would
see my gitch I wanted them to be my Calvin Klein boxer briefs.  My
hair is naturally a bit curly, however I normally spike and mess
up my sandy blonde mop so that it looks cool.  But as it dried I
let it fall flat and curl as it wished instead.  No socks, because
I could still get away without smelly shoes from going barefoot in
them and preferred it to socks.

I didn't tidy up the pile of football equipment, it was strewn about
the middle of the floor in my room.  So as casually dressed as I
could try to be, walking down the hall I invited Jon in and
offered him a soda.  We sat down on the couch, sorta half facing
each other but still sorta avoiding actual eye contact.

As we were sitting Jon immediately burst, "Daniel, I have to say it
now cause I won't say it if I make myself wait anymore.  I think
I'm gay."

(Obviously I had guessed this and hoped for it sooo badly, and totally
figured this out when I woke that night with his hand on me.  But
then I found reasons and explanations to satisfy myself incase it
wasn't really the case and I had just been overly hopeful.  Yet
the important question was what to say and do now.  I had a hard
time thinking of what was right to say to Jon, like `that's cool'
or `'kay', or `I think I am too'.  In the end the easy way out was
the obvious one; just keep in self denial and all will be well
with the world!  So I just sorta stared at him I guess rather than
vocalize what I felt inside.  If you don't put words to thoughts,
and don't say those words, then those words can't come back to
bite you in the ass I guess.)

After a long silence Jon got up, trying to be strong he quietly said,
"I'll leave now.  I see I've made another mistake."  I'm not sure
if that was said for me or himself.  He was getting real choked up
now, trying to find his voice.  Speaking louder, shaking, voice
cracking, he added, "I've really put you in a bad position, you
know, I'm sorry.  It's just, I thought, you know."  His voice
failed him.

I instinctively got up with him and walked to the door with him.  It
wasn't my conscious intention, I just found myself doing it.  As
he was picking up his shoes I finally broke my trance, broke my
silence.  "Wait Jon, don't go," I pleaded.

Looking away because he was full-on crying at this point he rambled,
"Yeah right!  Humor the fag!  No, I think I've totally made an ass
of myself and just revealed myself to a guy that I thought was
different enough that I could at least share my secret with and
maybe still be my friend.  You're a real nice guy you know Daniel,
not like all the jerks.  You didn't mention the night at Michael's
to anyone, and that means so much.  I just really pray that you
won't tell anyone about this either.  I can't make you do that
though.  So just forget about me O.K.?  I'm so sorry I've dumped
this on you."

On the outside it looks to people that know me like I am tuff.  Maybe
it's because at my size not only do I play football with big guys,
but I'm damn good at it too.  Maybe it's that I don't back down to
the bigger guys.  Or maybe it's that people believe my fa‡ade that
nothing really bothers me, that I'll do what I want, I don't know.
I tell you though that honestly I am really so chicken-shit on the
inside.  So I really don't know where I got the nerve to do it
because I'm even more chicken-shit with showing emotion, but I
found myself at the door hooking an arm around Jon and almost
tackling him back into the house as he was pushing the door open.
I saw a flare in his eyes, I guess part anger, part pain, part
surprise, and definitely part fear.  As Jon was getting back up
off the stairs that I had knocked him down onto, to re-attempt
escape, I closed the front door.

I was shouting at first, just to make sure I was getting through,
"It's not locked, 'kay.  You can leave now if you want to, but
hear me first.  'Kay Jon?  I think I like you!  I don't want to
suck your dick or anything cause I think that's gross, but I've
dreamed about it, a lot.  'Kay?  So were even.  Now you know about
me too.  Does that make it any better?"

I felt so dirty having said that; not because I felt particularly
embarrassed telling it to a guy that I like and seems to be
available for me, but instead because it's the natural reaction to
homosexuality of everyone around in my life that teaches that it's
wrong for guys to like guys.  I was burning up in the face, like I
had to do a presentation in front of the whole school or
something.  For his part, Jon sat down on the steps.  We just both
stared at the floor; totally not making any eye contact, in total
silence.  It was a long wait, I sat down on the floor and rested
my back against the door.  We were both trying not to cry, but I
found it so emotionally draining to actually tell someone.  Now I
was feeling fear for if I had made a mistake and if Jon would tell
about me!  We waited in silence until my AOL ran out of minutes on
me and said "Goodbye!" through the stereo speakers I have plugged
into the computer.

Scared into action, Jon got up and again reached for the door, "Shit!
I thought you said you were home alone."

"I am.  It was AOL closing itself."

"Huh?"

"I've only got dial up.  Mom's not rich.  That's why we even live here
with my uncle.  So I only have AOL dial-up.  I guess I forgot to
sign-off and my minutes just ran out on me so it signed itself
off.  It says `welcome' and `goodbye' when you sign on or off."

"Oh."

After another long silence I offered, "Hey, if  were gonna stand here
in silence, how about we sit back on the couch again or go to my
room."

"Uh, sure.  That would be cool I guess.  Why don't we go to your room
Daniel?"

My heart which was already racing, started pounding even harder in my
throat.  Why did I offer my room?  I got up and Jon kicked off his
shoes again and followed me.  My room was such a mess.  It's
actually the master bedroom that I share it with my cousin Todd
and his side is always so clean, even when he stays over.  My side
is usually clean too because my mom nags and nags, but her and
Arnie weren't home yet so I hadn't put anything away.  I sat on
Todd's bed and motioned for Jon to sit on mine.  His eyes kept
darting to my football equipment spread between us, all over the
middle of the floor.

"How can you be gay Daniel?  You are so tuff, even for a small guy.
Even the big dumb jocks in gym hate playing against you!"

"Do you hate playing against me?"

"No, never!"  He started, a little too enthusiastically. "I mean yeah,
but I want to be with you so I push myself real hard so I don't
look stupid to you I guess."

.Silence.

"So how do you think, like when did you, you know, know you're.you
know?"

"I don't know Jon.  It's like I get fantasies and stuff.  All the guys
talk about jerking off and how big their loads are and how many
times they do it and stuff.  And if you haven't noticed I don't
even have any hair yet and stuff so I started thinking of what it
must be like; to be like other guys and have hair down there, and
be able to get more than friction burn for my efforts.  So when I
jerk it I just started thinking about guys like Michael who are
like way ahead of me.  Then I started thinking about guys naked,
then about touching them and doing stuff with them.  Then it was
like I never thought about girls at all.  And in grade 9 I started
thinking about you.  I had the hugest orgasm ever the first time I
thought of you with me that I think I almost even had some cum
that time.  How about you?"

"I never liked girls, not like the guys talking about Julia's tits or
Helen Watermelon.  I don't even think hers are big anyhow, they
just call her that because her name is Helen.  I like looking at
the guys and their looks on their faces when they talk about it.
I'd even look at the tents in their pants when they talk about
girls and get turned on.  Like, have you seen Bill Jones when he
walks around in his boxers in the change room and how big he gets,
and when he pops out of them when the guys talk about girls and
tits?"

Actually I hadn't noticed, "No, to be honest I usually only ever dare
look at you if I check any guy out at all there.  I try to guess
what underwear you're wearing each day, and really only have once
checked out your package because I don't ever want to get caught
checking a guy out."

Jon smiled, "Oh really, and which underwear do you like the best?"

"Well you're mostly gray, black and white Hanes boxer briefs; black
especially on gym days.  I do want to see what that pair of 2xist
look like that you only ever wear outside of school that I see the
waistband of when you shirt rides up and your pants slip down.  I
swear, I had to study your waistband for so long in Michael's
mom's van the night we went to see the re-release of Star Wars I
thought for sure I'd get caught!  And then I had to look 2xist up
on the internet to figure out what they were!"

That was the meat of our conversation that day.  We were so relieved
to be talking about it, but we both held back a lot.  I couldn't
see at the time that Jon was holding off on asking hundreds of
questions, but he was, just like I was.  The conversation kept
changing, only occasionally slipping into any gay topic until we
both felt awkward, then it was quickly diverted.

It still seemed pretty early when I heard Uncle Arnie's chopper coming
down the street, early especially for him.  I jumped up, gave Jon
the quickest little hug and raced to the front to open the door so
that Arnie wouldn't think anything was up.  Jon took that as his
queue to leave.  As Arnie entered he put me in a headlock and
messed up my hair more than it already was, said hello to Jon as
Jon was fighting with a shoe and saying goodbye.  Arnie then gave
me a strange look.