Date: Tue, 25 Aug 2009 00:01:36 -0400
From: Jade <phantomscorpio77@gmail.com>
Subject: Gay/Highschool : In the Shadows of Our Lives - On Broken Wings 11

This story is a work of fiction.  Any resemblances to any person, place, or
written works are purely coincidental.  It may contain consensual sex
between young men.  Do not read if you find that objectionable or if it is
illegal for you to view this content for whatever the reason.

Copyright 2009 Jade.  All Rights Reserved.  Do not post, copy, or use this
story in any manner without my permission.

Questions?  Care to share what you think?  Always love to hear from you at:
phantomscorpio77@gmail.com.

Dedication : This one's for you Shadow.

"I see her face a stranger
And a life that slowly fades
Lost inside my anger I close my eyes and pray
And was it love they sold you
If this takes a thousand years
And you know that I'll hold you for a day
We could drift away - beneath the shining water
We could drift away - to the oceans in my heart."

>>).:.(<<


In the Shadows of Our Lives
Part 1 - On Broken Wings XI
~ Heart to Hearts [Hold Me Now] ~

Dear Journal:

School's out and all is boring.  It's already the third week of summer
vacation.  Uggh.  I mean I love the weather but this summer is going to be
pretty crappy.  Tim is gone.  Candace, Lacey, and Deanna are gone.  I
thought bad things happen in threes.  Oh wait, yeah, Lacey being gone isn't
really a bad thing.  Haha!  Sure, I love her and all, but she's best
handled in small doses.  Last week was good I guess.  About all I did was
get high with Kevin a handful of times and hang out with Neil for an
afternoon.  Otherwise I managed to hide away from the world.

So yeah, Tim drove Candace to Panama City where she boarded the ship she's
going to be living and working on for the next year.  She called before the
ship set off and we had a good talk about what Tim means to me.  Then he
gave me a call when he got to his new home in New Orleans.  He made a point
to call and let me know he got there fine, and for my part I actually told
him I missed him.  That's a huge admission for me.  He also said to let him
work some things out, promising he'll be back for school.  I want to
believe, really, I do.

Chris, Larry and I moved all of the stuff that Tim couldn't pack into the
car over to Larry's place.  It's the first time I've been over to Larry's
house.  He had suggested that Tim could stay the school year there instead
of giving up after the apartment, and move there right now rather than
going to New Orleans.  Tim thanked him for the offer and said he'd think
about it but declined for the mean time.

Still, Larry thinks that having his stuff still here in Houston will be
enough of an anchor to get Tim to change his mind.  I sure hope so.  Hell,
he'll have to at the very least sleep on a pull out couch in New Orleans
until he figures out how to move his stuff if he decides to stay there.
And he left some valuable stuff behind, both moneywise and sentimentally.

As for my home, with the girls gone now we're going to clear out the rooms
and move Candace's stuff over to Larry's for now too.  Larry basically
lives here full time now, and he's going to help turn the girl's room into
a real bedroom for me and Deanna's room back into a dining room.  Not sure
how I feel about moving upstairs.  I'm going to have to sleep on the other
side of a wall from Ma and Larry.  Damn, goodbye privacy!

Candace also overheard Ma and Larry talking about Ma going down to one job.
It's too bad that this is just now happening as all her daughters recently
left home.  I guess that extra attention will also be foisted upon me when
she isn't busy with Larry.  Just what I wanted; sneaking around with Chris
will be all the harder!

It's strange, but with Tim gone now too I am rethinking Neil.  We are
friends, and like Tim, Daniel wasn't my only link to him.  But I gravitated
to Tim more.  I guess I am just a horny teenager who wanted to be with the
better looking guy.  Not to say that Neil was free a tenth the amount of
time that Tim was.  Tania always has Neil tied down with something.  Kevin
calls the two collectively Ball and Chain.

I played baseball yesterday with Neil, Kevin and a group from school.  No
Paul Hunter.  Kevin also likes to play basketball, but I really, really am
awkward at that so all summer long I'm going to have to be fighting him on
doing something else.  I wish I had my pool because then we could all just
veg in it.

Aside from that I don't feel like Tim is gone.  I think Larry is right.  He
wants to stay here badly so that he can finish school here.  Larry
explained the College Draft to me and I guess that Tim has some agreement
with Bowling Green University.  I never understood it so I never really
listened to Tim and Neil arguing over what college to go to.  But to keep
it available, it is best for Tim if he plays ball here for his last year.
That in itself I think is enough to make him come back.  Plus he grew up
here and loves Houston.  His sister and brothers are young enough to make
the change easily enough but he seemed real defeated when he thought about
the prospects of having to start fresh in New Orleans.

It's kinda like the way he tried to keep Kevin from feeling when he moved
here.  I just got a good vibe like Tim wanted to accept Larry's offer
outright to stay at his place, but he is proud and trying to act like a man
and stand on his own two feet.  That's the opinion that Larry offered to me
from his vast experience as a mentor to teenage boys anyway, and I
wholeheartedly have embraced it.  Somehow if we all chip away at Tim I'm
sure we'll have him back for the supposedly best year of school and our
lives before we have to move on to a more `real world'.

Neil's parents already put out an offer for him to share a room with Neil.
But their house is crammed like mine, and Tim has told me in secret that
he'd rather not.  Then again, come to think of it my house is hardly
crammed anymore.  Maybe I'll offer for him to live with us if he can
tolerate my beaten down old house.

Anyhow Journal, in a more real sense (although metaphorically) I'm at the
end of a hallway.  Three doors to choose from.

A door to the left that leads to a pleasant distraction that I know is
fantasy.  The fantasy is that no one thinks I'm gay or that I have a
boyfriend, and that Chris will be happy letting me live this way with him
as my dirty little secret forever.  No one looks at me and says fag under
their breath.

The door ahead is the harsh reality that sooner or later I have to face.
Through that door I embrace who I am.  I deal with it publicly and
privately.  Maybe in today's society it isn't as hard a life as we're led
to believe.  The majority of people don't give a shit one way or the other.
Be gay and be happy with it.  Be comfortable with myself, my boyfriend and
let all the people who matter in my life know.  Hold my boyfriend's hand in
public like a heterosexual teenage couple would as the word spreads and
everyone finds out about me.  Hmmm.  I'm getting there.  Like really, I'll
be ready right after the anxiety attack I feel coming on just thinking
about it.

I don't want to be the propped up paper hero, the token fag if you will.
On the flip side, I live in Texas after all; I don't want to die simply
because I chose to be myself.  I didn't choose to be this way, it's who I
am.  I can live with that.  In fact I am becoming quite content with who I
am.  But choosing to be happy with my homosexuality is the very thing that
can cause haters to act against me.

So I don't like the option staring me down straight ahead, but I don't want
to keep hiding within the suspended reality behind the door to the left.
Maybe the door to the right is a softer version of the door in front of me?
Slowly tell the people I really care to tell.  First tell Tim.  If all goes
well then I tell the rest of my few real friends, have them keep it between
us so that the whole world doesn't need to know.  Introduce them to Chris
and we can all be friends.  No hurt, no betrayal, no pushing Chris away, no
pushing my friends away.

The door to the right is hope.  It's daring to dream and being honest with
myself and the people I care about without drawing any unwanted attention.
So I guess I'll take what's behind door number three, not knowing just what
lies beyond.  I'll cast ambivalence to the reality in my life, and to the
fantasy, and just maybe make it out alive.

Now, onto a different matter.  A certain package arrived.  At first I was
totally like WTF, Duncan sent me his baseball uniform?  He knows how I have
a thing for guys in baseball uniforms and I know he has a thing for sharing
underwear and jocks with his best friend.  Somehow I'm an extended part of
this now?  The note says to use what I'm comfortable with, if anything, if
any of it even fits, or to please throw out and erase from memory.  On the
reverse of the handwritten note is a colour photocopy of a team photo.
I've seen a pic of Duncan before so it's easy to spot the cutie in the
group.  Looking at him in his uniform I could get hung up on that boy!

So there I was, conflicted over what to do.  I figured I'd sleep on it.
Sometime in the middle of the night, still unsure if I would wear any of it
for baseball, I tried on the complete uniform save for the belt and shoes.
He had obviously worn it and I could smell his cologne on the jersey.  Well
I ended up sniffing everything of his like he told me to do to Tim's.  Um,
with one thing in particular I saw stars!  I masturbated to the scent 3
times before morning, each time stripping everything off beforehand and
redressing in everything afterwards.

I've taken his advice and also have worn the jock to bed every night.  He's
right, the cup does take some getting used to, but it feels awesome.  My
stuff snuggled in the cup that Dunny stuffed his junk into?  Um, wow!  And
yes, I did wear it for baseball too, that and his shoes.  I secretly got to
sweat in his gear and no one knew!

He told me on his fuckable or not scale I'm one hundred percent fuckable!
I'd say the same for him.  Well he can't have me, but I am going to attempt
the next best thing by sending him send him a worn (but clean) pair of my
2(x) ist boxer briefs.  Hopefully he likes my gift Journal, Jon.

>>).:.(<<

I'm lounging in bed late this morning, on the phone with Tim.  I'm naked
and enjoying a semi-erection that's curling over my right leg.  I assume
I'm alone in the house because Ma just left for work and Larry's truck is
gone.  Naturally I figure he drove her to work.  As whenever the
opportunity presents itself, I'm eager to get down to some personal
attention, so I'll do just that again this morning, as soon as I get off
the phone with Tim.  I'm on the portable phone and don't feel the need to
put anything on as I get out of bed and head to the kitchen for a soda.
Tim and I are hatching a plan, building on Larry's offer for Tim to stay at
his place that to my knowledge still stands.  Only our plan involves me
moving there too, or more likely Tim moving in with us here.  Involved in
the conversation I get out of bed and proceeded stark naked to the kitchen.

"How about Maynes?  Do you think he'll go for it?  He's all but moved in
there, too," I hear through the receiver as I grab a bottle of Coke.  Big
plastic bottles of soda seem to be replacing cans in our house.  This is a
Larry thing.

I grab a glass.  Some rules are easy to neglect, like covering up now that
the house is empty.  Others aren't so easily to fight off the effects of
Ma's brainwashing.  She would shoot me if I ever drank out of the bottle;
it's rude and inconsiderate.  Not that I'd have a snowballs chance in Hell
of getting away with parading around the house in the buff.

As I pour a glass of soda I explain, "I really don't think Larry will pose
a problem.  In fact, if anything he's always going out on a limb for me.
He's definitely pretty cool."

"At least you see that.  It's cool that you're cool with each other." Tim
preaches.

I half tongue-in-cheek retort, "Oh, believe me, he was the enemy at first.
He was stepping on my personal space when he set Ma on my case to make sure
I was going to classes.  I just never had the time to exact revenge before
I decided that he's alright.  He might even be an ally when it comes to
her."

"Then ask him," Tim urges.

I agree, "Alright, I'll talk to him, get him on our side and then talk to
her."

"Alright, give me a call when you talk to him.  I'm gonna get off the phone
for now.  Later," Tim says.

"Yeah, take it easy," I say before we both hang up.

I'm scared senseless when from behind Larry's voice booms, "What are you
plotting that requires my backing you on?"

I scream like a little girl.  How does a big guy like him open a patio door
and sneak up on me without making a single noise?  As Larry rounds the
kitchen table he notices my state of undress.  He doesn't shy away, nor
does he perv on me.  He walks past me to grab a glass from the drying rack
and pours himself a glass of soda beside me while I am frozen in place.  I
guess he's used to naked young men; being the coach of a high school
football team and all.  While he puts the bottle back in the fridge I
manage to strategically place my hands in front to cover up and mutter that
I'll be right back.  As I race to the laundry room to grab a pair of shorts
and some Hanes to throw on I am certain that all four of my cheeks are red.
Bright fire-engine red.

He stays in the kitchen but his voice follows me, "Well, while I have you
off guard, what pray tell am I playing a pawn in?"

With the boxers on and stepping into a pair of shorts I start back to the
kitchen and reply, "Well, you remember your offer for Tim to live at your
place?  We were thinking that maybe he and I could do that, or else more
likely he could live here if Ma allows it.  I guess it depends on you too
because you're basically living here now too."

He winces at the extra emphasis I inadvertently put on the last part about
him living here too.  But he can take it; he's a big boy, "Well.  We never
really asked you where you stand on that issue.  I apologize.  But if I
heard you right over the phone you don't seem to object to me.  Am I
right?"

"Let's just say that even if I didn't like you I wouldn't stand in between
Ma and you."  I try to come off aloof but only succeed in sounding for the
first time I can register, incredibly gay.  It's not coming out how I
intend it to, I further try to explain my remark, "And for the record, I'm
not merely stepping aside for her sake here and towing the line.  I guess
what I mean is I'm not fighting you because there's no reason to."

"Good.  I like you too," He offers.

Well, there we have it.  We actually like each other.  Good, I think.  Was
I clear enough or did I leave him unsure of just what the heck I mean?  I'd
really like him even more if he never brings up in any way, to anyone
including me, that he just walked in on me and caught me naked.  Yet, I
feel the need to explain even though the moment has passed, "Oh.  And by
the way...I um...thought no one was home.  You know, just then?"

He gives me a finger gun salute, "Gotcha.  I figured as much."

Silence fills the kitchen as we each are busy within our own minds.  My
mind is stuck on the fact that my opportunity has slipped through my
fingers.  Larry seems to be staring out back.

He sighs and breaks the silence, "Well, man of the house, now that you're
up, why don't you give me a hand outside?  Other than smoking pot and
hiding away from everyone most of last week you haven't accomplished much
of what you promised your mom.  While we're at it we can sort out this idea
that you and Mr. Matthews are planning."

I groan.  I don't fully mean to.  I can't read him yet; I don't know where
this sits with Larry.  I haven't tested the waters of defiance with him
because he has never imposed a command on me at home.

He doesn't bat an eye at my groan, "Just get your kicks, you don't even
need a shirt.  We're only laying down some top soil and sod.  We have to
get the sod down quickly so that it doesn't dry out and burn the roots."

So after grabbing my shoes I'm sitting on a deck chair in the back yard,
tying my shoelaces and staring at the brown circle of dirt that used to lay
beneath where my pool and the surrounding patio was.  Larry has already
been out and bought 20 rolls of sod to put down this morning.  In fact he's
already unloaded them from the bed of his truck and put them on a tarp in
the carport.

As we carry them one at a time to the back yard he has me working my ass
off on something Ma asked me to take care of.  Key word there is ME!  It
shouldn't require Larry's let's get it done attitude or his attention.  Not
that it was on the top of my list of things to do.  Being fair it wasn't on
my list of things to do at all; I totally forgot about Ma asking me to do
it.  Still there is something I can save for an argument, should there be
one later; how was I supposed to get the sod?  Carry it one roll at a time
on the bus with me or on my rollerblades?

I'm trying to assess if Larry is mad or upset, disappointed, or what at me.
He seems neutral I think, but I have a hard time reading him still.  I am
not one of Larry's football players that he can tell to do something and
expect an answer of feverish determination from.  But I better not let up
at the same time now that he has started the job for me and is doing it
with me.

With the rolls all neatly piled in the back under the shade of a tree we
grab a bunch of bags of topsoil from the carport.  Larry has brought over
some tools from his place so he opens the dirt and dumps it out as I spread
it.  We lay about half the rolls of sod before finally taking a break.
Again, while it is an overcast day and not overly hot, I'm not so big and
strong and dumb like his football players as to not know when to take a
break.  I am not weak, but slugging a million rolls of sod around and like
a metric tonne of top soil requires a lot of energy.  Sitting down we
finally get to talking about Tim.

After refilling our glasses with soda Larry inquires, "So, what is this
diabolical plan you need my help with?"

"Kay, flat out?  I want to ask Ma if Tim can live here with us.  He wants
to come back but he thinks it'd be too lonely on his own at your place.
He'll take you up on your offer if it's still there, if Ma says no.  He
just really wants to finish senior year here."

He asks me, "What do you think she'll say?"

"I don't know?  What do you think?"

Reasoning, he says, "Hey, she's your mom.  You know her inside out a whole
lot better than me still.  What does your gut tell you?"

Not sure about my gut, but my stomach is telling me that it's hungry at the
moment actually, "I don't know.  Maybe yeah, but maybe no.  She's still mad
at me over Bandit."

Larry encourages, "Well Tim's not Bandit.  He can relatively take care of
himself.  Same idea for sure; he needs to be housed and fed like Bandit,
but the rest he can do for himself.  By simply having Bandit still around
you know you can play her like a harp.  When are you going to ask?"

"I dunno."

"Well you should do it soon.  Give her a chance to work it over.  Time
flies during the summer.  School's only a bit away.  And don't reference
Bandit or your argument will just train wreck," He suggests.

"Yeah, I know," I say in such a way as to try and let on I need his help
still.

He sighs at me, "Where do I fit into this scheme?"

Clearly it's a mock sigh in response to mine earlier, but still, it's
progress between us!  He's never going to be my dad, but maybe I can drop
my respectful fear of him and we can be friends afterall?  I venture,
"Maybe if your offer's still there for Tim to stay at your house you could
bring it up in front of her to me and I could use that and his not wanting
to be alone to segway into a desperate plea."

Out of nowhere he asks, "Tim Matthews isn't gay too is he?"

I jump up from the chair, "Dude!  Far from it.  I mean, I sometimes wish he
were.  No, he's so not-gay that he knows I am even though I've never
acknowledged it, and he's beyond cool with it."

Nodding his head, he continues, "That answers the next question then.  It
doesn't matter to some people.  Be happy he's that way.  A friend like that
is far and few between, and the fact that he's not prejudice is all the
better."

"Are you going to help us?"

"Yes.  One or the other.  I'd suggest to Charlene that you two boys could
both stay at my house but she'd shred me.  Your mother just had all three
of her girls leave in a matter of months.  She's not going to let you go
anywhere until she feels it's the right time.  She tenses up when you step
out the door and doesn't relax or go to sleep until you're home."

He adds, "She's also quite worried over you at the moment because she knows
you have abandonment issues going back to your father.  She doesn't think
you've ever learned to cope properly.  And now, all three of your sisters
leave, your best friend leaves.  And all of this is more or less right on
the heels of your other best friend, or as I knew Daniel; your boyfriend,
leaving.  So that's your angle to attack her with, not mine.  You're a good
kid, like Dave.  I can help you, but I won't manipulate your mom.  Why
don't you and she have dinner alone here tonight and you tell her what the
options are and see what she says."

We finish the yard at least 10 rolls of sod short, around 2:30, after
Bandit tries to claim a few pieces.  Ma finishes work at 4:00 so I have a
hour and a half of supervision with Larry before I get handed off to her.
All I wanted was a little time to myself today!  Like seriously, five
minutes of personal time would have been more than enough.

On Larry's suggestion I'm going to finish off the yard this week once he
gets more sod, to try and show Ma that I've done something about it.  He
also suggests to prove responsibility that I take Bandit over to Freed Park
before Ma gets home so that I can show her I'm taking care of him too.

Bandit's not the kind of dog that can play fetch for long because he is a
hulking beast and tires quickly.  While he pulls me around the park I
wonder why he'll listen to Larry and do the commands Daniel's uncle taught
him, but when I say them I just keep on getting yanked around.  Larry says
it's because in dog hierarchy Bandit has placed himself above me.  Haha, I
don't think so mutt.

While I'm wrestling the tennis ball out of my dog's mouth Larry goes
walking by, "He's almost bigger than you Jon!  You're going to have to
tickle it out of him!"

Once Bandit spots Larry he drops the ball and runs up to him.  Clearly he's
done with me and taking himself for a walk with Larry instead.  I catch up
and put the leash back on him, "So, where are we headed?"

We go to the corner store a few blocks further down to get an Auto Trader.
Looks like Ma has a couple serious talks coming up.

At quarter to five she walks in with her arms full and it finally dawns on
me she borrowed Larry's truck for the day.  Looks like Larry won't have to
work hard convincing her how convenient it is to run errands and get things
done so quickly with a car.  She comes home to me making a meat sauce over
the stove for spaghetti later tonight.  Larry kisses her and is out the
door after we help bring in a couple more bags, saying he has a few things
to take care of and will be back around 9:00.  After putting the groceries
away with Ma she turns the stove back on and finishes off the sauce I've
started while starting a pot of fettuccine noodles.  Getting all
sentimental she tells me for like the thousandth time in my life that I'm
the only one in the family that appreciates good hearty American-Italian
meals.  And do I ever; if I ever need an IV drip, I'd ask for meat sauce!

I feel nervous as heck about the conversation I have to have with her as we
sit down to dinner.  It's at the table in the kitchen, not out on the deck
or in the living room in front of the T.V. which tells me it's going to be
heavy on her part too.

I start it off, "Ma, we never eat here unless we have a family thing going
on.  What's up."

"Well Jonny.  It is a sort of family meeting.  We're all that's left for
now.  What do you think about Larry moving in here permanently?"

"Sure, go for it.  I thought that was already implicit," I say a little too
aloof.  What I really want to ask is if I can finally take Deanna's room
now that it's been empty for well over a month.

As if trying to barter with me even though I didn't object she goes on,
"We'll move your stuff upstairs and make the dining room into something
again.  You've been so good, never complaining about that room of yours.  I
know you like your privacy and the room's right next to mine but we might
fix this place up finally, maybe add on to it.  And once you're out of your
room we can turn it back into the foyer that it really is.  Maybe open up
the one wall, close in a couple doors and put some new siding over them,
and fix up one good door to the carport.  Larry and I have even talked
about getting me a car."

O.K.  So plans have been in motion behind my back, she's in on the car
idea.  Or maybe I've just had the wool removed from over my eyes.  I
haven't paid a whole lot of attention to home life, because, well I've been
busy with my life, my secret life with Chris, and my other secret life
somewhere in between those two lives.

So I shy away from asking Ma about Tim at first, "Yeah.  Sounds great.
Who's paying for it all?"

"Oh Moody, I know you're trying to be civil with Larry.  Thank-you.  I
haven't known the companionship of a gentleman since your father.  You
don't have to worry about being in the next room, we're not like that.
We're too old for much of that anyhow.  It's more like life partners now.
It seems fast, but it also seems we've been together for years.  We enjoy
each other's company."

Eww.  Didn't want to think about it that way.  I only once made a joke to
them about getting a room, I never thought about them actually having sex.
Which brings me to Chris, "Ma, can I change the subject for a sec?"

"If you're uncomfortable," She suggests.

No, I'm not uncomfortable, just seizing the moment, "Well this may make you
uncomfortable so you tell me."

"What Jonny?"

"Again Ma, stop calling me Jonny.  Just Jon.  Kay?"

"O.K.  Jon," She laughs and makes a face at me, "What Jon?"

"Well talking about you and Larry and you know..."

"Uh huh?"

Tears are forming in the corners of my eyes.  From the look on her face she
must think I'm about to say Larry molested me or something.  I'm about to
chicken out until I see the dread in her eyes.  I have to force every word
out.  My voice is weak like each word is my dying breath, "Kay, here goes.
I'm sorry Ma.  Please don't hate me but I'm gay."

"You're gay?  (silence) You like men?  (I nod my head in the affirmative)
How come I never knew this Jonny?  (long pause) Are you sure?"

I laugh a nervous laugh that comes out as more of a snort than anything,
Finally able to find my voice again I answer, "I've always been sure Ma.
It's the only thing in my life I am sure of."

Through tears she manages, "I won't tell Larry if it bothers you.  Do you
sister's know?  We don't have to tell them until you're ready.  You don't
have to tell them ever if you don't want to."

"It's nothing I have to be ashamed of Ma.  It's who I am," I say with my
hand on her arm.  Well, listen to hypocritical little me!

She looks hurt, I can't look her in the eyes, "No, it's not.  My, how the
world's changed Jonny.  From a dreamer raised in Hell's Kitchen to a Texan
widow with a gentleman consort and a gay son.  Every day I watch the news
and worry about the world today.  I don't think I'm ready for this new
world, but I guess you are."

We're both shedding silent tears, but I want to reassure her, "I think
you're doing just fine Ma."

Ma gasps, "Look around you, do you really think that?"

"I think you've done the best you know how to Ma.  Yeah, I do think you've
done good for us."

"Look at your room Jonny.  Look at what we have.  I wanted to give you kids
all so much more than this that it breaks my heart that you never once
complain about it.  You get moody and lock it in, but you never throw it in
my face that I can't give you what you deserve.  This isn't how it was
meant to be.  You find yourself a good man Jonny and don't let him go.
Smother him with kindness and courtesy and love Jonny."

"This isn't your fault Ma.  None of it.  Not the house, not me.  Having a
better house or room wouldn't make me straight Ma.  Having Dad here
wouldn't make me straight.  It's no one's fault for anything.  It's how I
am.  Chris has everything and he's gay."

She has a look on her face as if to say it's all coming clear, "So that boy
that night weeks back, he's gay too then?"

It's actually months back Ma.  Two months back to be precise, "Yeah, he's
my boyfriend."

"Well I guess it's a good thing I didn't say I thought your friend was gay
then," Ma tries to laugh.

"Yeah.  I might not have ever told you if you did."

"And your friend Tim?  How about him?  You know Candace will be upset if he
is too.  She'd race to get ready before you every morning just so she could
talk to him over coffee."

"Nah, he's straight."  I want to add hopelessly straight, but I better not
if I intend to angle this towards my intent tonight.  And it never took any
effort on Candace's part to get ready before me; I am the ultimate slacker
when it comes time to get ready for something.

"And does he know?  Do your other friends know?  Do they pick on you at
school Jonny?  Is that why Candace got into a fight when someone picked on
you?"

"Yeah Ma, she knows.  She told me right after Chris was over.  Her and
Deanna even talked about it before.  As for my friends, Tim knows for sure.
I never actually told him but he's figured it out.  He's mad at me that I
can't tell him.  Not like angry-mad, more like hurt-mad.  I don't know
about anyone else but I don't think they know."

"And how are you with this?"

"I don't know.  Well, I do.  This place is so homophobic but I think my
close friends might be O.K. with it.  Tim hasn't made it public knowledge,
not that I've even acknowledged it to him.  I don't know Kevin all that
much, and Tania and Neil are a bit hard to gauge sometimes but I think
they'll keep quiet about it for me too."

I continue, "Speaking of friends and all, I kinda want to ask you
something.  With an extra room now can Tim stay here next year?  It'd be
just for school.  Maybe in Deanna's room?  I know I leave Bandit for you to
take care of, but at least Tim's housebroken."  I sullenly add, "And I
don't want to lose another best friend.  That's gotten old fast."

"Jonny, slow down.  I don't know.  It's all too much at once.  Do you like
Tim too, like Candy does?"

Hmm, better to dodge a bullet here and tell her what I've 90% convinced
myself of, "No.  I don't see him that way.  I mean he's nice, and he's
alright looking, but I really only see a friend that's been there for me in
him."

My mom's expression is the definition of bewildered, "I need to think, and
talk to Larry about all of this.  I think he always suspected this.  You,
that is.  He's tells me all the time about his older son.  He's gay too,
you know?"

"Yeah, I know about Dave.  And um, Larry already knows about me too.  He
watches out for me at school; has for well over a year now.  He found out
about me and Daniel right when we started dating and he's sort of been
there for us ever since, or me at least now that Daniel's gone.  We kinda
figured it was because of his son."

"Daniel?  That little boy?  You didn't do anything with him did you Jonny?"

What to say, what to say?  Shaken as she may be I have to wonder what
version of the truth is she ready for, "Yeah Ma.  He was my first
boyfriend, first kiss, first love, first lover, first everything.  At first
maybe we were just friends and had each other to confide in.  We were
together for a year, so yeah we were intimate, but um, always safe.  He may
be small but seriously Ma, he's my age.  Ask Larry if you don't believe me.
He played on the JV football team.  How else do you think I would know
Larry?"

Ma takes the opportunity to redirect the conversation, "I hate to admit it
sometimes but none of this would be possible without Larry.  His house is
paid off completely.  If we move some of his furniture here at least this
will look like a real home again.  Then we'll rent out his house and the
rent alone will cover my re-mortgage payments now.  So I can drop the job
at the liquor store and between my job at the supermarket and Larry's
cheque we can be more comfortable than I thought would ever be possible
these past few years.  Maybe I can even afford to continue to feed that dog
of yours.  As for you, you can continue to give me your paycheques and with
what I've put away for you kids maybe you can afford to work and go to
college here.  Larry says you might even be up for some awards and
scholarships.  He's looking into a few for you.  The better grades you
brought home the more I worried that I was going to waste you because you
wouldn't be able to afford college.  You put a lot of pressure on you Ma
you know, being good in school."

"Sorry," I offer not sure what else to say.  Whoa, what a little heart to
heart we're having.

"Don't you ever be sorry for being able to make something of yourself.
It's what every mother prays for."

After being admonished I ask, "What about the girls?"

"They're my worry not yours," she distantly says.

We're silent for a while.  Dinner is cold and neither of us have eaten
much.  As we both play with the food on our plates I hope for a
distraction, like the phone ringing.  The dinner conversation has been a
lot heavier than the meal.  I finally break the silence, "It needed some
garlic bread."

Ma loves bread, she laughs a little at my comment.  Then lets out a
prolonged breath and shakes her head at me, "What would you have me do
Jonny?  Where would your friend stay?"

I try to hide a grin.  I've won!  She'll come around in her own time and
Tim will be here for the school year.

"I dunno.  I can keep my room and Tim can take Deanna's room.  Or if you
want to finish off my room I can move upstairs.  Or Tim can stay in the
girls room and I'll take Deanna's room."

When Larry returns later I relish the opportunity to hand Ma off to him.  I
head to the computer to sort out this recent revelation with Duncan.
Checking my Messenger I see he's not online but Evan is.  Bummer.
Something doesn't sit right with me about Evan.  He usually lives online
despite his stubborn facade that he's always out getting laid.

My nic on gay.com is quite different from my MSN one so someone on my MSN
who happened to be on gay.com for whatever reason would never be able to
place me.  I've also figured out that if I put nothing personal in my bio
on gay.com that I can go online right here in the Houston room and no one
will know more about me than I care to share.  So under the mask on
anonymity I go into the room.  My nic, Lone-ly Star, doesn't give away
anything about me so I have to write in the bio line 17m, looking for convo
with <20.  I come across a few guys my age but it seems they think convo
refers to grunting at each other while having sex.  All I want is someone
to talk to about things.

Turning off the computer I think about calling Tim and relating the dinner
conversation with him.  But how?  I am in denial with him.  Maybe I should
just tell him and he can show his true colours for the last time before he
moves on in with gay little me.  I owe him that much right?  And that's
assuming I read my Ma right, and also assuming that she doesn't change her
mind too.  I lose the nerve once I've finally tracked the phone down on top
of the fridge.  If I tell him there is never any going back; I would be
`out'.  Like officially gay.  Sure Ma now knows, Larry, Candace and Deanna
know, and to be honest Tim knows.  But I've told the first three, not Tim.

Then it hits me.  Duh!  Maybe call my boyfriend!  My heart is sinking that
he's the last person that I've thought of to talk to.  Is it because he is
the one person in my life now that can confirm everything, and I see who I
really am only when I'm with him?  I thought I had gotten over at least
that part of the denial.  Of the people that know about my sexuality, aside
from Daniel a 1000 miles away, and Duncan 3000 miles away, Chris is the
only person that knows about my sexual activity.  I feel so shitty that
I've shut him out.

Listening to the line ringing I desperately don't want to be alone.  Please
be home, "Milner residence, Chris speaking."

I sound forlorn, "Hey Chris."

"Oh, hey," He sounds much different than the snooty rich kid a second ago,
but still not excited to hear my voice.

"Everything alright?"

"I think so aside from not seeing you for a bit.  Is everything alright
Jon?"

"Sorry, I'm an ass.  You're right Babe.  Yeah, everything's alright with us
if you're not mad at me.  I miss you.  I really want to see you."

"Nah, I'm not really mad at ya.  Horny are you?  I can be over in like 20
minutes, orgasm in 21 minutes."

We both laugh.  I'm such an asshole for neglecting my boyfriend lately.
"Well, you're clear to come over now.  I came out to my mom tonight.  She
took it alright I think.  But I don't think she's ready to know that I'm
actively gay.  So maybe just a movie?"

"Give me half an hour then.  If you were horny I'd pass on a shower, but if
we're just sudo cuddling from opposite sides of a couch then I'll doll
myself up for you.  See you in a few," Chris makes a kissing sound over the
phone and hangs up.

He comes by about an hour later.  Gay time he calls it.  I'll have to store
that excuse for a time when I am totally out and can use it.  He's looking
breathtakingly cute tonight.  If I saw him just walking down the street I'd
do a double take, probably stare, and figuratively drool.  He's left his
car running when he comes to the door, and then asks me if I want to stay
the night at his place as he rubs his crotch and flashes a devilish smile.
Well who am I to pass up on this cute boy on my doorstep, so I pop back
inside, ask Ma and tell him sure without really waiting for her response.
As I'm getting my shoes on she agrees, but cautions me not to run from this
every night from now on, she knows now and we'll have to deal with it.  She
chides me to be polite, use my manners and thank Chris' parents.  As an
afterthought she also adds to not sleep together, boyfriends or not.

The sun is setting as we get to Chris' house.  We walk to his back yard and
plan to watch the sunset by his pool.  Instead I get shoved in when I don't
suspect it, shoes and all.  Chris kicks off his shoes and clothes before he
cannonballs into the pool with me.  He is bare-assed in a black Y-back
thong.  I actually have one of his matching white ones on, hoping that if
we got a chance he could play the guessing game as to what I had on.  I
have only the one pair from him but I rather like it now.  I ask him if he
really thinks it's appropriate to go virtually nude in his pool and he
responds by loosening my belt and taking my shorts off.  He reaches for my
boxer briefs only to discover what I have on.  After doffing my also
drenched shirt, shoes and socks I garner his approval.  We float about on a
double lounge chair in just our thongs watching the sunset together.

As darkness settles on us the patio lanterns come on and his yard looks so
amazing.  His yard is easily four times as deep and maybe five times as
wide as the entire property my house sits on.  For a while we just take in
the view.

"So how'd it go?  How'd she take it," He asks.

"She's alright.  Took it pretty well.  Thinks it's her fault for not
knowing," I respond, happy that it went so well.

"You're her son, she wants to protect you," He reasons.

"Maybe so.  Especially from irresistible boys like you," I joke.

His hand is on the pouch of my thong as he licks my ear and seductively
repeats, "Especially from boys like me.  You just attract us like a magnet.
We want to get to know every part of your body, mind, and soul intimately."

Chris then slips off the water lounger and swims underneath it so that he
can tip me off it.  I see this coming a mile away so all he gets for his
efforts is an empty chair.  I am in the water just behind him when he finds
me.  I hook my hand through the Y in his thong and pull him to me.  We make
out for a while standing in his pool.  After a little petting we ease off
so that we can walk through his house at least without raging erections.

When we make it up to Chris' room he lights a few candles that he knows I
love.  Stepping out of the wet thong I slip between the black sheets as he
lights the candles.  After rustling with something in a bag he reaches
under a pillow and then slips into bed too.

In bed he starts running his hands all over me and I end up straddling him.
He flips me off of him and onto my belly in order to massage my back.
After a few minutes of his ministrations I feel a cool draught on my butt
as he attacks it with his tongue.  I get invaded by his magically orgasmic
tongue for a little while before I get rolled onto my back and my legs get
firmly thrust against my chest.  Seconds later he is sheathed in a condom,
ribbed for my pleasure, and lubed up.  Without any complaint whatsoever my
body lets him invade me.  Oddly, his hands are busy at his own back door a
lot this time as we have sex.  Sooner than he would have liked he reaches
orgasm.  I'm almost there myself and desperately want to get hammering away
on myself.

Chris has other plans however.  He withdraws and once the sensitivity goes
down he slips off the condom and replaces it with another.  My dick is
throbbing away in its constraints as he slowly and gently enters me again.
This time he starts off slow, making love to me rather than just fucking
me.  It's all too much and I lose myself while he pumps my butt.  Chris
stops briefly so that he can lick up what spills from my erection.  He
tries to penetrate me again, but having reached orgasm, that door is firmly
closed for the night.  Some days are like that, others aren't.  I'm still
pretty new to intercourse so I haven't got my body's rhyme or reason
figured out just yet.

I was gladly being dominated by Chris, but now I have to switch roles if
this is going to continue.  And yes, one look at his lithe body tells me
that tonight while I don't care to top I definitely want this to go on.  I
turn Chris over to discover a sex prop planted in his butt.  He removes the
plug as I fix a condom on myself.  One inside him, as we kiss, Chris drifts
off to sleep all too soon without even reaching orgasm.  I feel restless
and anxious about the day that has transpired.  It's a good few hours
before I finally drift off to a fitful sleep.  At least on this night I can
feel the slight calming euphoria that comes with sleeping next to my
boyfriend.

Morning comes too early.  After breakfast at Denny's we hit the mall so
that Chris can replace my phone that is probably still sitting on the
bottom of his pool.  I spot Nat Walker and her brother Jackie at the mall
while Chris and I are at a kiosk.  I really can't get away because the
phone guy is giving us a pitch about one of the phones and Chris is intent
on getting me a good one because he caused mine to get soaked.  I make eye
contact with Nat and we smile.  She nods towards her brother and rolls her
eyes.  I have no clue what that is supposed to mean.  As they pass she says
`hey' to me, and I `hey' her right back.

It's innocent in that that's all there is to the encounter.  And yet it's
far from innocent because I have been spotted with Chris again and the
gears have to be turning in her head and soon the phone lines will no doubt
be passing this secret all around.  Hell, I don't know her brother to talk
to, but I am sure he'll be passing the word that I, already a suspected fag
at Parkwood High, was seen with an unknown totally gay looking boy at the
mall.  What a hoot.  The depressing state of fear in my life casts a shadow
on the simplest of moments shared with my boyfriend.  Chris picks up on
this right away as I head for his car.

Chris puts an arm around me that Nat or her brother could clearly see if
they take a look back so I gently but firmly swipe it off me.  He consoles
me in a whispered voice, "It's O.K. Babe.  You'll live through this.  It
seems like the end of the world, but once you're out, most people lose the
nerve to even acknowledge it.  You gain the advantage over them because you
have conquered a huge fear and have faced the stigma that comes with who
you are while they all still have their personal phobias to protect dearly.
They actually feel intimidated by you, or in a sick way, almost drawn to
you because you don't care what they think anymore.  You'll have risen
above them.  That's hard for them to deal with.  See if the gossip doesn't
stop once they all know.  I bet it will.  It did for me."

As we walk I confide, "I've told you about Michael.  I don't want to live
with a greater fear of being bashed when everyone knows that it's more than
just rumors."

"Fuck Babe.  This isn't the dark ages.  More people knowing actually makes
you less of a target, believe it or not.  It becomes your protection," He
enlightens me before turning me back to the store.  As we re-enter the
store he grabs my hand to hold it and nods to the sales guy, his free hand
pointing at the most expensive of the three phones we were looking at,
"We'll take that one."

The sales guy doesn't seem phased by our brief intimacy.  It's like he
never saw it.  Ditto for the girl that helps set up my number on the new
phone.  They weren't shocked or sickened, they didn't show any signs of
feeling an urge to throw up.  We're just two more customers in their eyes,
and commission doesn't discriminate until we are at least out of the store,
if at all.

Maybe Chris is right, this isn't the dark ages anymore.  The person that
cares most about it by far is me.  Certainly not an epiphany, but a small
glimmer of realization lodges itself in me.  Most people are too busy with
their own lives and fears and lack of self confidence to worry about mine.
Still it's the few that are self assured and the few that are so
down-trodden in their own problems that find picking on others a fun and
viable sport that I fear.  They do exist.

As we get in Chris' car he tries to fill me with further optimism.  He
tells me of his dream of us walking hand in hand through the mall, or down
a street and being carefree about it.  I wish I could buy into that dream,
but I am not there yet.  I don't say so, but he comments that my silence
speaks volumes.  I hear the slight hint of doubt in his voice as he again
assures me that I'll be fine, that we'll be fine.  I know that the events
have been set in motion for an eventual conversation about us breaking up
because he doesn't like having to live in my secret world.  He's past that
himself, and I see the burden that it is on him no matter what he says to
the contrary.  I'd like to change that course of events, but last night,
and today's sighting is more than enough on my plate at the moment as it
is.

And I have Tim to worry about.  My best friend may be moving in with me.  I
am sure he knows about me.  How does he feel about it though, really?  He
seems O.K. about it because he hasn't kicked my ass, ditched me or spread
the word that I like dick to everyone.  But still, I can't find it in
myself to say the words to him.  How is living together ever going to work
when he's the truth I can't face, when completely without his own doing he
has become the righteousness I shy away from?  I wish I was Chris.  I wish
it was in me to be more like him.  Just hang it out there for all to see
and let whatever may happen, happen.

But I still cower inside.  I'm getting there, but when I finally arrive at
the place I want to be, I feel Chris will not be waiting for me.  It's a
stupid thought because we are only 17; it's not like we stand a chance at
lasting anyways really.  That is the reality of it.  I know our paths are
different and it's so hard to admit.  It's easier to be oblivious to it and
live in the moment.  Wait, I still have a hard time living in the moment
too!  Fine, it's easier living in a fantasy and deluding myself that
everything is alright now and always will be.

[to be continued]