Date: Tue, 14 May 2013 17:50:43 +0000
From: Charlie M <bikes_and_bars@hotmail.com>
Subject: Frozen 6

My eyes followed him as he got to his feet and walked a few paces before
scooping up the damp towel from the floor, giving me an incredible view of
his naked backside.


He turned, still dripping, and made his way back over to me.


He knelt on the side of the bed as he began softly dabbing at the mess we
had made and my smile began to quiver as I struggled to urge laughter not
to disturb this insanely beautiful situation I found myself lying in.


He turned his head to look at mine and a perplexed look washed over him
only helped make my hysteria grow.


"What?"  John said through his own stifled giggle.


"I erm..."  I couldn't respond at first as the joy stifled my words. "I
think that if you had told me six months ago that this would be
happening..." I paused and looked down at his nearly flaccid
piece. "...Well, actually I'm not sure what I would have said."


John smiled as he finished mopping up the lakes that lay on me before
getting back to his feet.


"I'm not sure what I would have said if you had told me that would have
happened even six hours ago really." I could see John reaching up and
gently rubbing at one of the bruises on his chest and the sharp sound of
rainfall suddenly drenched my giddiness.


He gently folded the big white towel so that its contents were not on show
before bending down to pick up his underwear. He looked at it and realised
just how much of his clothing that the rain had soaked,


"Hmm..." He said as he stretched them out playfully before looking back
over to me.


"Yeah, I think you might need to borrow some of those too." I sat upright
and turned to my bedside cabinet and opened the top drawer.


A sharp knock came at the bedroom door and we both turned in panic as the
handle slowly started to fall.


"Wait..." I almost screamed as John jumped across and put his hand on the
door. "He's just getting changed mum." I cried and then held my breath.


The door handle slowly found its way back to its upright position.


"Alright love, just don't leave all those wet clothes on the floor like
Matthew usually does will you." My mum's muffled voice came through.


"I won't" John giggled through clenched teeth.


As relief poured over me I sat back a little and pretended to feel at my
chest as though I was having a heart attack. My heart really was racing
like a humming bird's.


I found John beaming a smile in my direction, He was leaning his back on
the door to guarantee we were definitely left undisturbed,

"Matthew..." He said gently.


"What?" The tone in my voice was erratic and it broke as I spoke.


"No, I just... I like Matthew." He softly stated.


"Well, I like John."


He giggled softly as he walked over slowly. "Thank you... But I meant I
like Matthew, I mean I know people call you Matt, but I don't know..." I
could see his face start to flush slightly and he covered his cheeks with
his hands. "...I'm going to stop talking now."

He said as he reached my still open underwear drawer. "I'm going to rifle
through your underwear instead, because that of course won't be
embarrassing,"


We burst in to laughter together and I found myself staring at every
movement he made, every slight gesture, every moment he spent looking in to
the drawer was extra time I could spend burning a stare in to the side of
his face.


"OK, the shirts and trousers are one thing, but you have like ten million
of these..." He said scratching his head and looking down at me.


"Well, maybe nine million..." I swivelled my body and put my hands in
looking for a pair that would accentuate the positives.


"You're never going to wear all them are you..."


"No, you're going to help me." I replied chirpily.


"Why do you have so many?".


"Oh it's a long and boring story involving bullies at school an my dad
being over compensationary... erm.. compensatative? No,
compensation... What am I trying to say?"


"I really haven't got a clue..." He smirked playfully.


Now it was my turn to blush. "My dad bought me them when I told him I was
getting teased for wearing briefs."


He continued to smirk at me,


"Alright, now I'M going to stop talking... But I do like having a choice in
the matter...  Particularly when I can now give you these..." I took out
and handed him a pair of blue/grey boxers, the kind of trunk like boxers
that hugged at you and didn't have a fly for you to fall out of. They were
a little tight on me now but I knew they would look perfect on his smaller
but perfectly formed hips.


He looked down at them and back at me before unfolding them and stepping in
to them, pulling them up until they covered him completely. I was mildly
disappointed, but both the front and back views that they had created were
staggering.


I think my jaw dropped to the floor and he knew it as he walked away slowly
towards the jeans and shirt I had picked out. He bent over slightly and
looked over his shoulder at me before he wiggled his peach of a pair of
cheeks at me.


"Stop that..." I choked out of the tongue that had followed my jaw to the
floor.


He smiled but continued to get dressed. I picked up the clothes and boxers
I had been wearing and began to get dressed as well.


I felt as my still damp t-shirt fell on my chest and realised I needed to
cover it up. Of all the thoughts that were racing away from me, the thought
that my mum would link the damp to John seemed to be the one that I made
the most sense of. I grabbed a jumper out of my wardrobe and pulled it on.


John stood looking out of the window frozen to the spot before a loud
rumble came from his direction.


"What the hell was that?" I said looking over to him.


"Nothing" He said as he sat down on my bed.


"Was that your stomach?"


He looked over his shoulder at me and I started to wonder how else his
parents treated him badly.


"Let me take your stuff down and see what we have."


He turned his body to face me. "Thank you... for the clothes,
for... looking after me..." A cute shy smile came across him and he looked
down at the bed.


I picked up his damp trousers, shirt and jumper along with the towel before
leaning down to pick up his discarded briefs. I placed them in amongst the
pile of clothes and then looked over to John and smiled.


I walked and opened the door handle and felt the bubble that we had created
float away.  I couldn't help but turn to have one last look at him.


"Come down to the kitchen in a minute, I'll go and get these in the drier
and find you something to eat."


He smiled and then turned to stare out of the window and in to the
darkness.


All of my worries suddenly seemed so trivial. I had been worrying about
looking the right way because of casual bullying, about only having poor
Lucy as a friend and about what I felt that my parents had put me
through. Here was a boy sat on my bed, battered and bruised from a family
that not only wouldn't buy him a coat for winter, but would do this to
their son for reasons I couldn't begin to imagine.


My thoughts slowly drifted away as I sauntered my way to the kitchen where
I found my mum stood anxiously in the doorway.


"Is everything OK?" She moved to meet me and grabbed the soaked clothes
from my arms and I followed her in to the kitchen.


"Yes, he'll be fine." I lied.


"What took you so long? Did he tell you what happened?" she said, loading
up the drier with John's clothes.


I wasn't sure what I should say. I thought that if I told her about what
had really happened that she might call the police. I suddenly imagined a
sequence of events that ended with John in care and me never seeing him
again, leaving him to rot in some children's home where I was sure he would
suffer even worse abuse than he already had.


"Not really." I evaded her questioning quite poorly.


"Not really? So you were in your room all this time and you didn't think to
ask him who had done that? Was it that guy that was picking on you the
other day? In fact never mind any of that, what is he doing walking around
in the freezing rain at nine o clock at night?"


She stopped as I sat down at the kitchen table and looked at her with wide
shocked eyes. What where we doing in my room all this time? What a question
to ask.  Maybe the towel that she hadn't thought to wash that was tumbling
around with John's clothes could give her a better answer than my bemused
face could.


A heavy sigh echoed around the room and she came and sat opposite me at the
table. I couldn't bring myself to look at her and instead chose to stare at
the cold tiled flooring, desperate for her to stop her line of questioning.


"Do you think he could stay here tonight?" I blurted out with a hint of
excitement.  "And would I be ok making something to eat for him?"


I waited for a response and looked up at my mum when I didn't receive
one. Cogs were turning in her mind adding up the small amount of
information she had to hand.


"Don't you think he needs to get home to his mum and dad?" She probed.


She looked up at the doorway and I felt John's presence fill the room. She
smiled slightly at him as her gaze followed his movement as he came and
took a seat next to me at the table.


I saw a steely look on his face again, he had clearly heard what my mum had
asked me but he didn't respond at all. I'm sure he didn't want to be
talking about what happened with her. Maybe he was imagining the same
scenario of what would happen if she called the police.


She got up from her chair and moved over to the freezer.


"I've never been the best cook in the world, and I've certainly never
thought about running a hotel." She said without looking back at us. "But
there's a sleeping bag and a pizza for you if you need it tonight." She
pulled a pizza out of the middle shelf and made her way across to turn the
oven on.


"I... I really don't want to cause any problems for you." John said
anxiously.


My mum stifled a laugh. "Don't be silly, why would you cause a problem for
me?" She probed at John for an answer to the question she hadn't even
asked.


"I..." John couldn't find the words to say to her.


"I wouldn't be going back home either if I was in your situation." She
calmly uttered as she went to leave the room. We both sat upright in shock
at what she had said.


I was sure I could hear John's heart racing as we sat there with only the
tumbling of clothes to break the silence. Thinking about his stuff being
covered in the towel's contents I jumped to my feet and opened the door to
the drier.


I reached in and took out the towel and thanked my lucky stars that the
contents were mostly still inside the ball that the drier had created. I
took it out and closed the door and felt the warm rush of air stream out as
it started back up again. I opened the washing machine next to it and
stuffed it in to the middle of the clothes that were already loaded in.


For a moment I stood and rested myself against the side and took a deep
breath.


"I've never worn boxers before." I heard whispered in my ear.


Before I could turn around I felt as John pushed his crotch in to my
backside. It made me jump in to the air and fall against the side of the
washing machine. I sharply turned and looked in to his smiling eyes.


"What are you doing!?" I whispered back. John's grin rose and he looked
down at himself.


"Ever since I put them on I haven't been able to keep it down."


Jaw agape once more, I looked down and raised my eyebrows. How hard do you
have to be to make a pair of jeans tent that much?


"You want to keep your voice down a little bit?" He readjusted himself as I
brushed past him and moved over to take my seat, looking out in to the
hallway for my mum.


"What for? You're mum obviously figures every fucking thing out." John's
tone had become an almost frightening aggression as he stared down at me
through what I saw as hate filled eyes. It cut me deeply.


"John... I...  I didn't tell her anything... I wouldn't do that!" I
exclaimed.


"Right!"  he sarcastically snarled.


"He didn't" my mum said as she pounced back in to the kitchen. "and I would
prefer it if you kept the language a bit nicer than that."


John didn't seem to know how to react and tension screamed around us.


"Why don't you go back to Matthew's room for a little while, I think I need
to have a chat with him." She said toward a quivering John.


In his moment of aggression he seemed to grow to a giant's height but
having been put back in his place his shoulders had dropped and he had
become him again.


"I'm sorry... That wasn't me..." His voice trembled as he walked by me and
out of the room.


My mum followed him to the door and closed it behind him. She moved her way
to the other side of the table and sat herself down to get the best
possible view of me.


"Full story... now..." She firmly stated.


Through startled and staggered breath I started to tell her all I knew
about him, which on reflection I came to realise that even at this stage
was very little. I told her of the little snippet that I had got from Lucy
and the small amount of what he had said to me in my bedroom.


Strangely, certain events from that evening that had happened between us
got lost in my storytelling and I missed out some bits about what we had
done together two days earlier as well.


After I had given everything I was brave enough to give, I sat back and
waited for her to tell me that she was going to go round there herself or
that he couldn't stay here tonight or something equally heart breaking.
Although perhaps heart break wasn't the thing I should be feeling if she
did ask him to leave after experiencing his sudden snap at me. I wondered
about how little I truly knew about the boy in my room.  The thought of
losing him outweighed any of this, and my only desire was to go and hold
him again.


"Thank you." Was all that she said, before casually getting to her feet and
unwrapping the frozen pizza.


As the pizza cooked away slowly we exchanged a few more words about trivial
things like how if John was staying she would wash his clothes as well as
dry them and about what I wanted to eat on my sandwiches for the next day
at school.  Thankfully, her inquisitions subsided for the evening and I was
left for most of the rest of the cooking time to my own thoughts about what
my next move was going to be.


I watched as she sliced up the pizza and filled a plate with it. She tore
off a section of kitchen roll and handed it to me.


"Tell him it's not very exciting but I guess it's better than nothing." She
chirped, seeming to ignore everything that had been said earlier.


I smiled as I took the plate and turned from her and made my way to the
exit.


Relief nearly crippled me.


I walked tentatively towards the closed door of my bedroom before moving
down the handle with my free hand. I entered the dark room slowly and could
just about see John led on my bed facing away from me.


A soft sobbing was coming from his direction and he sniffed sharply as I
turned the switch to light the room.


Softly I stepped over to the bed and slowly sat down next to his feet.


"I hope you're still hungry." I whispered at him.


He didn't respond and so I moved further up the bed and placed the plate on
the bedside table.


Finally I plucked up the courage to place my hand on his shoulder. He
rolled slowly over until he led on his back, still sniffling away.

He reached up and wiped his eyes frantically.


"I'm so sorry." He said as he dropped his right hand to my leg. I put my
hand down on to his.


"That was my dad." He continued. "That was so like my dad the way I said
that to you in there. I can't be like that, I can't!"


Tears started to roll again from his eyes and the only way I seemed to be
able to respond was to grip his hand tighter.


"I can't believe you could be like someone who has done what he's done to
you." I whispered at him.


His breathing became less erratic and he slowly regained some composure as
he led staring out of those deep brown eyes at me.


"Your mum doesn't know you're gay does she?"


The moment he said those words, a sharp pain filled my stomach at the
thought and I felt myself almost doubling over at the fear of acknowledging
what he was saying. I turned away from John, got to my feet and walked over
to close the door to the bedroom.


In a zombie like daze I made my way past the foot of the bed and sat at the
computer desk and looked out in to the night. The rain had slowed to a
drizzle and my mind swam in circles.


"I'm sorry." John mumbled, "I don't know that you are, I didn't mean that
you are... I just... I didn't mean to have her overhear anything you didn't
want her to."


"Are you?" I shot back over my shoulder at him.


"Am I what?"


"Gay?" I replied.


"Well...  yeah...Of course I am" he said casually. "I mean... what happened
earlier..."


I turned in my seat. I envied his courage to be able to say that, but what
should have made me feel that it was OK to admit what I had never seriously
considered made me feel like closing up again and without saying a word I
fumbled my way over to my wardrobe and pulled out the crushed in sleeping
bag. It unravelled at my feet and I dragged it back past my bed where a
startled John was sat.


I threw it on the floor and without getting undressed fell on top of it and
got inside.


"That pizza will be getting cold." An unnecessary anger filled my voice.


I closed my eyes and listened as he took the plate and started to chew at
the pizza.


What was I doing?


I have wished so many times since that I could go back in time and throttle
the me that lay there, this emotionally retarded teenage mess and tell him
stop missing, or acknowledging, what is now so scarily obvious.


"I don't know." I whispered.


"Do you need to know?" I could hear him put the plate back down and I
opened my eyes to see him staring down at me.


"I suppose not." A smile bit at my stomach and inched its way through me
and I realised that we were alone in here. It really was our own little
bubble. Why was I trying to think that I needed to keep everything in? Did
I need to define anything and everything that I was? Could I not just be
happy?


With the smile reaching my face I watched as John turned and seamlessly
rolled from my bed to lie on to the floor next to me. He put his head on my
shoulder and wrapped his arm across my chest.


"Can't we just be happy?" He whispered, stealing my thoughts.

_________________________________________________________________________

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A very short note from me again...

Thank you again to those who have taken the time to e-mail me.

I can't tell you how happy it makes me that even one person has enjoyed
reading them and I always welcome any contact from readers.

Apologies for the delay in getting this online, I'm afraid real life got in
the way a bit!

Best wishes

C