Date: Sun, 1 Jun 2014 21:33:14 -0400
From: Jade <phantomscorpio77@gmail.com>
Subject: Gay/High School : In the Shadow of Our Lives - Wings of Tomorrow 13

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>>).:.(<<


In the Shadows of Our Lives
Part 2 - Wings of Tomorrow XIII
~ The Getaway Plan ~


"I'm the shiver that runs up your spine,
A strange kind of piece of your mind.
You've been lonely, I'm the only.
I know you're damaged goods,
You did the best you could.
I think you understand,
(I'm) the getaway plan."

The Getaway Plan, by Europe


>>).:.(<<

JON

It's been a month since Larry gave Paul a set of keys for his house to use
whenever he needs.  Since then Paul hasn't used them once.  He's going to
stick it out at home and save every dollar he can.  We're both going to try
to save as much as possible from here on out.  Although we finished one
time without condoms, they're one area we're not tightening the wallet on.
And lube.  Our most frequent recreational activities is sex.  It's still
new, and highly addictive.  Paul's cleaning up right now after a very
quiet, very quick morning session.  Last night's sex was in celebration of
me getting my driver's license.  This morning's sex was for fun.  I'm
sitting up with my back to the wall at the head of the bed.

I can't believe how quickly things happen after nothing seems to have
happened for like, well, forever.  Life was slowly becoming routine for me
leading up to Thanksgiving.  I had two jobs and went to school.  I mostly
hung out with Tim at school because Neil and he were fighting.  Outside of
school we spent all our free time together.

Then Paul and I managed to hook up.

The next week Chris's friend and secret boyfriend from years ago committed
suicide.  I ended up quitting my job at the restaurant to be with Chris
through that time.  I ran into Matt Johnson at that funeral, holding hands
with his boyfriend Eric.  So they are the gay guys a year behind us at
school it seems.  Good for them that they found each other.  I'll keep
their secret.

The day after Christmas I caught Kevin online.  We apologized to each other
for the way things went down, him seeing an opportunity to get head, and me
a chance to see if his dick was as big as I pictured it.  He explained his
Messenger name that has read `Las Vegas bound..." for nearly a week.
Apparently, just like that, Kevin's parents had decided it was time to move
on again.  Five days later his name suddenly changed to `Say hey, Santa Fe!
Happy New Year!'  It turns out they ended up settling there rather than in
Las Vegas as they had planned.

I long ago forgave him for taking advantage of me, but by that time it was
too late.  He was falling in with the stoners and we stopped talking
anyway.  I felt like a shit for how things happened between us.  Tim really
liked him for some reason and I fucked up that friendship on them.

I also took Paul's `gay virginity' around a month ago.  Then I taught him
what it's like to ride my dick.  After the first time, we had sex every
night for over a week and I can safely say that I am quite happy being a
bottom to my stud of a boyfriend.  We're pretty well matched in endowment;
I'm just a little thicker than him, he's just a little longer than me.
Neither of us are porn star measurements, but we are both satisfyingly
adequate.  I quite like his penis actually, and have been full-on in love
with my own for a good long time now!  At any rate, based on the past
month, when we start fooling around I'd say we fit together very, very
well.

After he slips into bed, he sits with his back to my front and lets me wrap
our bodies together.  I broach a subject we haven't really talked about
yet, "These last few weeks mean everything to me, you know that?"

"Huh?" He evasively replies.

Trying to judge his feelings I go fishing, "You, me, us.  Sex.  I just want
to know if you're nervous or unsure of yourself, like you don't know if we
should have done it."

By the sudden tilt of his head I know he rolls his eyes at me, "No.  I've
been thinking you're the one who's probably nervous; worried if I am going
to go running back to girls or something.  I'm not."

"So you enjoy it," I ask.

"I get off each time don't I," He points out.

I counter, "Doesn't mean you enjoy it.  You could still get off and decide
you don't like it."

He shakes his head and dismisses that thought, "What was it like for you,
your first time?"

I reflect, "Shitty.  We were quick and quiet, and after I think Daniel had
a big problem with it.  He had to come to terms a lot longer than me.  All
the while I just needed him to tell me he loved me to make it all seem
okay.  He wasn't very supportive at all when I think of it now.  I love
you, you know?"

"I love you too.  Sorry Daniel was a jerk," Paul says, pulling my arms
tighter around him and leaning back against me with his head resting back
on my shoulder.

I whisper into his ear, "I'm not.  He showed me how not to be to you.  If
I'm happy we're having sex and think you're the greatest thing in my life I
should let you know.  No pressure but I want thousands of repeat
performances from you as we grow old together."

My heart flutters that I don't even have to look at him to know that his
eyes are closed as he says, "No, you're sort of right.  I thought it was
such a big deal, sleeping with you.  If you were just some guy it would
have been.  But when it was actually happening, I distinctly remember the
way you were reacting.  So into it, so sexy.  I realized that I made a big
deal over such a small issue.  I felt stupid for my inhibitions as soon as
we connected.  Not because I was horny, but because I didn't feel any
regret at all being in you, or having you in me."

Of course I do lean forward and check his eyes, just to confirm my
thoughts.  They are in fact closed as he rests his head against mine.  I
ask, "And that's different than before?"

When we talk about our feelings Paul has a tendency to talk quieter, almost
as if it has to be a hushed conversation so that I know he's talking only
to me, "Well, yeah.  If I loved Stacey maybe it would have seemed right.  I
thought I could marry a girl and settle down, repress the gay thoughts.
But I felt regret when we had sex because I didn't love her.  And
truthfully?  I felt nothing at all when I fucked her.  Nothing like tonight
or any other night.  Just promise me now that we've gone there that I
didn't make a mistake falling in love with you."

I emphatically tell him, "You didn't make a mistake in stealing my heart.
It's the greatest thing to happen to me."

"I love you Jonny," He says.

He's working on a new pet name for me.  He had taken to calling me Hun,
short for Honey, but it's not man enough for him.  Neither is it when I
call him Babes.  Watching him squirm when I call him that is just a tad
evil, but also a tad fun!

"I love you Babes," I state in return.

"P!  That's what Jackie and my brother James call me.  People I actually
care about.  Can you call me that too?  It's more manly than Babes."


>>).:.(<<

PAUL

As I rest in Jon's arms I reflect.  First off, I never thought I'd be the
one being held.  I always assumed I'd be the dominant one in my
relationships.  The strong one.  The one doing the holding.  Strangely, its
rather comforting to realize I was wrong.  It's comforting to know that Jon
and I are equals.  We can both be strong, and we can both be comforted.
The fact that I can allow myself to accept him being stronger in ways
excites me as much as that he is in fact stronger than me in those ways.
Equals.  It's so right.  I'm getting to the point I feel I can let out my
fears to him without reservation.

My plan is the main fear.  The plan is starting to fall into place and Jon
is aware of it on some levels.  I guess as we're looking over the
information for the University of British Columbia I should fill him on the
dangerous parts of my plan.  British Columbia, I like the sound of the
name, I have hope that life there truly is drastically different than here.
I'm putting all my eggs in one basket on this one.  It's the only
University I plan on applying to.  Sure, as far as my parents know I'm
enlisting, but I have no intention of serving even if UBC falls through.
No matter what, I am leaving my personal hell in the heartland forever.

I'll be leaving my family without so much as a goodbye.  They don't even
know who I am.  I'm just number 6 of 7 in the house full of boys.  My
brothers don't know me, my parents don't know me.  Worse, I can't let them
know me because of their intense hate for homosexuals.  I've thought about
leaving a note telling them that I am gay and they won't ever see me again
when I leave.  But they aren't even worth that.  It won't spark any sense
of loss to them, it would just give them closure.

I idly run my hands along his legs that are spread out next to mine and
broach the subject, "Jonny Appleseed, my life isn't going to be like the
Phil Collin's song `Father To Son'.  When I leave, there's never going to
be any turning back.  Think of it more as Soul Asylum's `Runaway Train'.  I
know I've said so, but I need to stress how serious I am.  My family can't
stand our kind.  I won't ever be giving them the chance to tell me what
they think of me.  I won't be going back home to ring that bell.  Not ever.
My life forever becomes my own the day I leave.  It's Belinda and me, and
now you too, if you're ready for it.  That's it. That's all.  Slip out in
the dead of night and leave forever.  Never go there again, never call.  No
matter what happens."

Jon grimaces at my pet name for him but I didn't like Babes and Hun.  I
know he doesn't like Jonny, or Jonny Appleseed, but it just comes.  I guess
it's better than Tim calling him Cheesedick, but not by much.

"You sure you can do that," Jon asks, his chin resting over my collarbone
and his arms snug around my chest.

I nod and go on, "No weddings, no funerals, no Christmas cards, no
birthdays.  The only thing they'll ever get is Belinda's school pictures
with the school info cut out and no return address.  And I'll send that by
some obscure method so that the postage won't give away where I am.  Maybe
to one of your sisters here, with a second envelop to send on, or something
like that.  We'll visit your family as much as you want, but I will avoid
my family ever seeing me at all costs."

Jon gently brushes his fingers up the inside of my forearm to the inside of
my elbow.  He knows this makes me shiver with desire, "I'm sorry P.  I wish
it didn't have to be this way."

"You and me both, you and me both.  I've wished at least a thousand nights
now that my family wasn't so blindly religious and contemptuous of us.
Even before I first saw you and developed a crush on ya.  I knew then that
I would be as good as dead to them anyways.  So why not be dead to them on
my terms.  If they can be so cruel, so can I.  I can keep them worrying for
as long as they might.  I can break my mother's heart a second time."

"What about your brothers?"

"Nah, my brothers don't matter to me.  Only J does a little, but we'll both
manage.  Daddy doesn't even deserve the peace of mind that Belinda's alive
and well.  I'll even write her name and age on the back of the pictures so
that they know it's from me.  I'll sign it number 6 of 7 just so they can't
deny that I am their son," I reveal.

"Well, number 6 of 7, you'll have me," Jon says with a sympathetic look.

I laugh, "They named me wrong, you know.  Of all the Apostles they'd like
to think their sons are, I should have been named Judas.  I'll never be the
saint I'm named after.  How twisted that they named all seven sons after
Apostles.  I'm sure Mama wanted to go for a clean sweep and have four more
boys so that she could have given birth to all 11 of the `good Apostles'."

I don't really want to concentrate on that so I show Jon my collection of
guitars that I have begun to stash in his room.  Aside from Belinda, my
babies are guitars.  I have 6 over at his house right now.  Jon knows
`Windy', my favourite acoustic guitar, a honey-finish J185 which I keep at
his place.  Daddy nags me to bring her home and play with him, but I don't
intend to.

I have a cherry sunburst acoustic named `Storm' that I want to hide away at
Jon's too, but Daddy uses `Storm' when he performs weekly so I have
unfortunately abandoned her.  At least for now, and yes, Daddy is a
southpaw like me.  Instead I managed to sneak away Daddy's Les Paul
electric/acoustic with a tangerine-sunburst-finish.  So for now `Sunset' is
mine in place of `Storm'.

I have a root-beer-finish electric Les Paul Supreme named `Jailbird'.  I
open the case and introduce him to Jon.  `Jailbird' got his name from my
brother Luke, because his dark wood finish has a distinctly visible
tiger-striped effect joined in the centre, like on a tabby cat and thus
almost looking like the bars of a jail cell.  In a rare moment of brotherly
love, Luke had Uncle Ron make him as a gift when Belinda was born.  As I am
the first owner of `Jailbird' I hold him dearest.  His deep tone also
happens to be my favourite.

I do have another electric Les Paul Standard, an iced-tea-finish beauty
hidden here with my Marshall amps.  He's like a pale version of the Les
Paul's you see the guys in Guns `N Roses playing with the best maple wood
grain ever.  Head on you can see the distinct grain, from an angle it
almost seems to disappear.  Just looking at `Merlin' mesmerizes me.  Uncle
Ron made him for some left-handed musician, but whoever he intended it for
signed a signature series with Epiphone instead.  I named him Merlin after
the fabled wizard and mentor of King Arthur because he has a deft and
nimble yet commanding voice, just like the legendary Merlin.

I also have a cracked mirror finish Flying V named Viper who I am working
on mastering.  `Viper' is not a very forgiving guitar.  I can play songs I
already know, but so far I'm not too good at making my own riffs on him.

My last guitar that I show Jon is `Scorpio'.  He is a wine red double-cut
SG.  Sonically, this line is Gibson's closest answer to Fender's
Stratocaster.  I'd love a Strat someday, but that would mean becoming more
familiar with `Scorpio' first.  One thing for sure, he can rock!

Yes. I have a lot of guitars and not only that but they would all be fairly
pricey too.  The way my family gets guitars is through my uncle Ron, who
followed my grandfather into the wood craftsmanship trade at a young age.
Where Grandpa was a carpenter, Uncle Ron ended up working in Gibson
U.S.A.'s Nashville plant, hand making guitars.  The authentic, unlabeled
guitars that we have amassed are all through him, whether they were
prototypes of a reissue, or just left behind and forgotten about by famous
people with money.

Aside from the distraction, the reason I started showing Jon my guitars is
that I want to take them all with me when I run away.  I have six more
guitars at my parents, three more variations of Les Paul's and three
different models that all have their own sound, so that I have tons of
variety available.  Hey, excuse me if it's excessive or obsessive, but at
least my addiction isn't guns or drugs.

As I show all my guitars to Jon I explain my passion about them, "Maybe the
musician loses the music.  Maybe the musician dies.  But the instruments?
They need to live and play another day.  They need to be heard.  If I died
I'd want you to keep Windy.  I mean, keep whatever you want and would play,
Merlin maybe.  Definitely keep Jailbird for Belinda.  But give the rest
away.  Duncan maybe.  They need to be played."

After showing Jon all my guitars we head downstairs and take a last look
over the university applications we are submitting.  Satisfied we have
everything to apply, I go to my car to grab `Baroness'.  I plop down on the
couch and start into `Runaway Train' by Soul Asylum.  I play an extended
version of it as Jon's thoughts drift, and then start into `Two Steps
Behind' By Def Leppard.  Partway through my next song, Def Leppard's `Miss
You In A Heartbeat', Tim walks into the room in his baseball uniform.  His
rep-league team had a tournament that started Friday and they have a couple
games today.  I feel a little bad that he gets subjected to Jon and I both
staring at the bulge in his tight baseball pants as he walks in on us.

Cupping his bulge at us, he winks and asks, "It's Sunday today so that
means no work for either of my boyfriends.  You guys gonna come and cheer
my sweet ass on to victory?"

"Only if we get to help celebrate in that ass later on tonight," Jon fires
back while nodding to Tim's midsection.

Tim teases on, "Suit yourself.  A friend gave me this great lube that I
just can't get enough of.  No more friction burn!  I think my ass will
manage the celebration just fine by itself like usual, but you still can
come and check me and the uglier boys out in the name of America's
favourite past time all the same!"

"We would, but we've got someone coming by to go over our applications," I
start to explain.

Jon jumps in, "Yeah, Larry has some guy from Houston University coming over
for us to fill out some forms for the student sponsorship program they're
working on for the school we're applying to," Jon explains.

"Vancouver?  You guys really are dead set on that on, huh?"

"Pretty much, yeah," I admit.

Jon cuts in, warning Tim, "Watch some of the words.  She picks up on some
and tries to repeat everything now.  We don't need his parents overhearing
the country to the north of us pop out.  They don't know."

Tim turns to leave, saying over his shoulder, "Gotcha.  Well, wish me luck.
And come watch if you can.  Someday soon, you'll have to pay to see me
play.  Unless you support me now.  Then I'll pay for you to see me."

>>).:.(<<

Every detail has been laid out for us.  It's just a matter of actually
getting accepted to the University of British Columbia.

Mr. Milner got in touch with a Chrysler dealer in Vancouver.  He is going
to buy my car off of me and help secure a car for us there.  On our way to
Canada we're going to rent a van through Jon's Ma as neither of us are
legally old enough to.  We'll drop the van off back in Seattle once we've
unloaded, and then make our way to the dealership to pick up our new car.
The whole reason we are getting a car there is that speedometers and
odometers on cars in Canada are different than the ones here in America.
The car is going to be in Jon's name so as to avoid my parents being able
to find me.  Charlene is going to give us a cheque to put up any difference
between the value of my car and the car we are going to get.  It's quite a
gift from her.

Sitting in Jon's kitchen things get interesting.  Larry's friend from the
University got in touch with someone at UBC for us, and this guy in
Vancouver sent us all the information about student housing.

Originally when Jon told Duncan about getting housing through the school,
Duncan had thought that we would be able to rent something cheap through
the housing ads listed in the school, not knowing that all out-of-town
first year students have to live in school operated dorms.  The contact
from Vancouver sent us information for housing that he says is tailor made
for us called Barrett Hall.

The story behind Barrett Hall is that it is named after a pro football
player and former student of UBC, Michael Barrett.  From UBC Barrett played
in the Canadian Football League, a few years in the NFL, and then back in
the CFL before injuries ended his career.  Retired now for many years,
that's not all there is about him.  He came out of the closet a number of
years ago and got involved with groups like GLAD (Gays and Lesbians Against
Discrimination) and a gay alumni group that benefits the school.  But
that's not what got him involved in student housing.  He got into investing
and made some good money.

He heads another group of alumni that bought and donated an old department
store to the university, and it eventually got turned into a dorm bearing
his name.  As all first year students have to stay in residence if they are
from out of town, what works for us is that this dorm is a residence set up
for situations like us.  The group of university alumni got together and
put up the money to renovate the old store into a school dormitory.  It is
officially listed as a special needs dormitory and openly caters to gay
students, although importance is placed on students that are disabled, or
young parents.  As such, we hope to qualify as a gay couple with a child.

Every student requiring housing fills out a screening form after acceptance
to the university that gears them to the best accommodation.  Where we
stand our best chance of legitimately being accepted is the family angle,
as I am a father.  It's not at all any stretch of the truth there, I am a
special needs student in that regard as I am a father and need to have
housing that accommodates Belinda.  Where we stand to lose the chance is
that I'm only applying as a part-time student while Jon is applying as a
full time student.  If this works though, it means that Jon and I are
actually going to get to stay together, in the same room!  Hopefully I'll
be able to manage it all.

Failing that, we'll have to make the best of whatever we end up with.  If
we get assigned different rooms, we'll explain the situation to our
roommates and see if one of them will officially, or unofficially, swap
rooms with us.


>>).:.(<<

JON

We have enough time to make it to Tim's last game.  I'm happy that they won
their semifinal earlier today so that I could actually come and support
him.  I couldn't care less about the sport, but Tim lives for it.  It is a
part of Paul's life too, and a part of how we got together.  Like last
summer when the school team won whatever championship it was they played at
the old Astrodome.  Ah, memories.

The game they won to get into the finals, that's the one Paul gave me a
ride home from.  In his baseball uniform.  His awesome sweaty body in his
game-dirty uniform!  His lean and powerful legs repositioning the cup in
his crotch as he'd shift or brake.  That cup making such a beckoning bulge
that he caught me staring at it.  And even though he liked me and knew I
was mesmerized by his crotch, he was too shy to say something like, `hey,
if you like staring at it that much, do you want to see what I'm packing
beneath the plastic?'

As I drive Paul's car to Tim's game I playfully ask, "Hey, remember that
time you gave me a ride home from the baseball game?"

"Good times," Paul says with a huge smile.

"Kay, so if you caught me perving on you, and you liked me, why didn't you
maybe invite me to stop looking at it and start sucking on it or something?
I thought I grossed you out!  Clearly I didn't.  Like, I'd hope I was maybe
causing there to be less room in your cup, but you acted like you didn't
catch me stare."

"I was hard when we were sharing the joint, not exactly comfortable, but so
worth it.  It was the closest I thought I'd ever come to kissing you,
putting my lips where yours were.  I didn't even want to smoke, to be
honest.  But, you were with Chris.  I was resolved to just playing it
straight and then disappearing after graduation."

"Aww!  I think that's the sweetest thing I've ever been told.  That you'd
endure a painful erection just for me!"

"Yup.  You know we're going to have to really sensor our conversations as
Queen B learns to talk.  And I know you have your license now, but maybe
keep both eyes on the road?"

I am concentrating on the road, and not grinding the gears, but a
realization just popped into my head, "Wait just a second there P.  Is that
why you wanted to share a joint back at the Beach Bash on April Fool's Day?
And why you took my beer bottle off me and gave me another?  Were you
trying to swap spit then too?"

"Nah.  Both were just lucky happenstance.  I really wanted to get a little
high that night, and yes, maybe stare at you.  And the beer was just having
fun on you," Paul insists.

"Love you P," I wink at him.

He winks back, "Love you too, Jonny."

>>).:.(<<

After the game Mickey comes over with Tim.  Neil, Tania, Jackie and Shannon
all come over for hotdogs and hamburgers.  Tim steals my buttercream
vanilla candle from my room.

Lighting the candle on the deck in the early evening, Tim smiles at me,
"There you go Farrows.  My bet is paid!"

All eyes are on me, "What?  I beat him at bowling, kay?  His wager was to
cook a candlelight dinner if he lost."

Jackie mock punches Tim, "Wow.  You're such a romantic!  If frozen dogs and
burgers with a crowd is you're idea of an intimate candle lit dinner then I
had nothing to worry about with you and Nat."

"Especially seeing as how I cut up all the condiments and made the salad,"
I goad.

Jackie teases Tim, "You better marry a woman that doesn't mind doing all
the work."

That garners him a pinch from Shannon as Mickey echoes Jackie, "Nah.  He
better make it to the big leagues so that he can pay for a cook and a
housekeeper.  No woman is going to put up with how useless he is!"

Tim fires back at Mickey, "Oh, that hurts.  At least I'm not the one that's
going to have Momma Dawson living with me and still doing my laundry and
cleaning when I get married."

Mickey laughs it off, "Hey, I'm my momma's little angel.  Nothing wrong
with family helping out.  You leave her out of this!  But you?  You need a
girlfriend already bro!"

Tim tries to avoid that subject, "Another hot dog or burger anyone?
Mickey, why don't you choke on yours for me?  Hunter, you have a guitar
somewhere handy don't you?"

Paul pipes up, "You know who likes you?  Nina Galloway."

Tim scoffs, "Math club Nina?"

Mickey puts his hand to Tim's face, "So what bro?  She's kinda cute."

"Yeah, math club Nina.  She's also on the volleyball and soccer teams and
has a dirty mind," Paul pushes.

Mickey enthuses, "She's got abs bro!  And a hot bod!  Ray and I saw some of
those volleyball games!"

Tania speaks up, "One, that's so like you dogs to go watch girls volleyball
just to see some tits bouncing.  Two, refer to number one to see why you're
always single!"

As Mickey and Tania continue to play fight, Paul tells Tim, "Seriously.
I'm partners with her again this year in AP physics and she has your name
drawn in hearts on her binder."

Tim blushes a bit, "Really?"

Neil joins in, "Hey!  Maybe you could take a page from Jon and Paul and you
know, just happen to be there when she coming or going to all her classes,
make ga-ga eyes at her."

I shoot Neil a death stare, "Not funny."

Neil snorts, "Oh my God, yes funny!  I'm just happy you two wittle wost
puppies finally grew some balls and got together!  Now we don't have to
race around school like there's a fire behind us just so you can pass Paul
on a stairwell, stare into his soulful eyes, memorize what he's wearing,
and check his out front or back bulges when you think we're not looking!"

"Well look at him!  He fills his jeans out perfectly," I protest.

"I have to say he does too," Shannon agrees.

Paul, Jackie and I turn to Shannon, forgotten in my banter.  She brushes it
off, "It's okay guys.  I already suspected.  I think it's hot."

Jackie interjects, "But you think I'm hotter, right?"

I stare Shannon down, "No one else really knows.  Just a few of the other
guys on the baseball team.  Wayne and Ray, for sure.  And Nat.  That's it.
It's kind of important to us, to our lives, that no one knows, kay?"

"It's okay.  You two are cute together.  I think you're brave," Shannon
suggests.

Paul asks, "You're not going to tell your friends?"

Her outside perspective is a bit of a blow, but at least it's honest,
"Well, I'm sure it'll come up.  The girls know Jackie and I were coming
here.  And most people sort of know.  Maybe not that you're together, but
that you're, you know, into other guys."

I ask, "People talk about us?  They think we're together?"

Shannon nods, "Yes, at least since last Valentine's day people have known
about you Jon.  And now people whisper about you guys, and Matt Johnson and
Eric Young."

I ask Paul, "Remember I saw Matt at a funeral with his boyfriend?  I didn't
even know Eric's name or that he went to our school."

Shannon tells us, "He doesn't.  His parents pay for him to go to private
school."

That explains the connection.  Eric must have gone to private school with
Chris and Drew, the guy that commit suicide.  Matt was there because of
Eric.

I won't let it go, "So how do you know about them then?"

"My brother knows Matt," Shannon states.

I push, "And he's okay with him?"

She nods, "Yeah.  There not best friends or anything, but Jamie doesn't
care that Matt's gay.  No one really does."

"Huh," Is all I can really say.  That's a new one for me.  No one cares
that Matt Johnson is gay.  No one cares that Brent Liddle, the asshole that
he is, is bisexual.  Why the hell do people seem to care that Paul or I are
gay?  It doesn't make sense.  Maybe if we just came out people would let it
go.  Maybe it's the gossip, and once we answer it, it would all go away.
That's something to think about.  But either way we can't.  Paul doesn't
want it getting back to his parents.  So, no.  We can't do that.


>>).:.(<<

PAUL

Jon and I keep our first Valentine's Day simple.  Charlene and Larry go to
a nice restaurant, and Tim takes Nina on a non-Valentine's date to a movie
and sundaes at McDonalds afterwards.  This leaves the house to us.

Following our recent chat about censoring our dirty talk in front of
Belinda, we're also working on ways of having sex without the risk of her
seeing or hearing her Daddy going at it.  The most obvious way is to not
have sex.  Which just isn't going to happen.  Sex is awesome, and we want
it as much as we want each other.

We don't really do a gift.  We did the watches for Christmas.  For
Valentines we just take a couple pictures Nat has of us, one with Belinda,
one without, and get them enlarged to 5" x 7" and framed at a local
Wal-Mart.

Tonight, after we sit down to the spaghetti and meatballs, garlic-cheese
bread, and Caesar salad I find a way to thank him for the hearty dinner.
With Belinda secured in her booster seat and tucked in to the table, I
sneak under the table and unzip Jon's jeans.  It's the same idea as a
blanket on the side of her crib; so she doesn't see us.

As I fish him out through the fly of my boxers he protests, "Not here!  Not
at my Ma's dinner table!"

We'll see...yeah, that's what I thought!  All fight is gone the moment he's
in my mouth.  The angle is different, and the confinement is a little
problematic, but when his legs start quivering and he raises his butt off
the seat I know it is working just fine.  My top lip is right up against
his body and my nose is tickling his abdomen when he lets out a quiet `oh
shit' in time with his shooting.  He later repays me on the couch, under a
blanket.

Before I head home we decide to hit McDonald's and share a Rolo McFlurry.
A couple and their kids stare at us and the dad makes a few derogatory
comments, but neither Jon or I pay him any attention.  The cashier goes to
our school, as do the guys at the fry and bag-packing stations.  We're not
doing anything more than sharing ice cream.  They can take from it what
they want.

>>).:.(<<

The next warm weekend when the guys from the school team organize a
Saturday morning pick-up game Jon and I go with Tim.  Jon's all proud that
he's hiding my cup under the baggy baseball pants he got from Tim, and that
he's got me wearing the cup he got from Duncan.  I won't complain though,
the thing is roomy enough that it never pinches.  Sexually charged as Jon
makes it, it's all about the fun when we're playing baseball, not the sex.

When everybody's had about enough warming up and the late comers show up,
we are all lounging on the school bleachers waiting to pick teams.  Half
the group isn't from the school team, and a couple girls are playing with
us, but I figure it's time to finally say something.  It's something Jon
told me about Duncan; how he got all of his friends together for a game of
pick-up hockey and told them he was gay in the dressing room before the
game.

I'm not as bold as Duncan, but I get my point across, "Hey guys.  Thanks
for not hating me.  Jon and me."

Mostly everyone just nods or says something generally supportive or
non-committal.  When sides get picked Jon and I are on different teams.  It
doesn't bother either of us as he knows some of the guys on his team enough
to feel comfortable.  It works out well this way so that Nat and Jackie on
his team, or Tim on my team, can keep an eye on Belinda in the shade of the
protected dug-out while one of us is batting and the other is out in the
field.

When my team is fielding and Jon comes up to bat, Shawn, our pitcher winks
at me on first base, then taunts Jon, "Hey Farrows.  If you actually hit
one off me and make it to first base, I'll let you kiss my first baseman!"

Shawn is a good pitcher.  He has a strong fastball and can put some good
movement on his pitches.  Shawn is actually the guy that replaced me last
year on first base when I wasn't playing.  So, anyone that has played with
him can see he's taking it real easy on Jon.  Jon actually makes good
contact with the ball and sends it over me to right field.  Unfortunately
Drew only has to take a couple steps to catch it.

The next time Jon's up Shawn tells him, "Well I guess the prize wasn't good
enough last time, but he's got some sweat worked up this time.  He kind of
looks sexy right now, for a guy.  Ready for another try?"

After a strike and fouling one off, Jon's bat makes contact with a
tater-tot that Shawn throws him.  Coming off the tip of the bat, the ball
curves funny and gets between Ray and Tim before either can catch up to it.
Dan, a spare player on the school team bare hand grabs it and fires it like
a laser straight to my glove.  Thankfully Jon is safely at first base when
the ball hits my glove.  Up next, Neil crushes the first pitch he gets for
a home run.

As Jon crosses home plate Shawn shakes his head at Jon, "I'm not taking it
easy on your ass next time Farrows!  You take my gift and make my shortstop
and third baseman look like rookies and then you don't even pat my first
baseman on the ass?"

Jon smiles and nods at me, "Nah, he's here to play ball.  I'm here because
Tim and Neil tell me I have to be.  And besides, isn't it supposed to be
some big-boobed blonde that runs onto the field topless and tries to kiss a
player?"

Tim fondles his chest and jokes, "I am not taking my shirt off for you
Farrows!"

Ryan Chen is next up to bat once Neil crosses the plate.  He's the first
baseman on the team this year.  He's also got a huge chest, shoulders and
arms, and bleached hair.  He shouts at Tim, "Who says he was talking about
you?"

"Yeah, but you're not a natural blonde," Tim fires back.

Nat whistles loudly, "Jackie, Paul, turn away.  These my boys are what the
man was referring to!"

I do as I'm told.  I gather that Nat doesn't actually flash us, she just
cups her breasts the way Tim did his chest.  Of course this starts off
banter that Nat feels right at home in, and can handle herself with.  The
chirping gets good to the point that we only play one more laugh-filled
inning before the game breaks down into pure shenanigans.

>>).:.(<<

That afternoon I work a mind-numbing three to eleven shift.  Tim watches
Belinda until Jon gets home from his customary noon to six shift.  When I
get to Jon's house, Tim and Nina are sitting close on the couch watching
the opening monologue of Saturday Night Live.

I can't help myself, "Hey Tim, Hey Nina.  A little advice Nina; Tim's not
gay.  He's just a gentleman, through and through.  You're going to have to
lead him.  If you wait for him to make the first move you're in for a long
wait."

"Screw you Hunter," Tim says and throws an empty soda bottle at me.

Nina simply asks, "Are you and Jon going to join us?"

Tim shakes his head at me, trying to convey he didn't tell her.

"Um, maybe.  Depends on what he's up to," I calmly state.  It's ambiguous
enough isn't it?  It's not saying that my boyfriend and I might join them.
It could easily mean that me and my babysitter might join them.

All the same, Nina scoots over closer to Tim.  Jon heard me come in and is
just behind me when Nina asks.  He wraps one arm around me tightly and
pulls me in for a quick kiss.  Nina doesn't show any reaction other than to
put a hand on Tim's knee, so we join them, me sitting on the opposite end
of the couch and Jon sitting on the floor and using my legs as armrests.

When the first break for the musical guest comes on Nina reminds Tim she
has to get going.  Once she has her shoes on, she peaks back into the
living room.  I've turned sideways and Jon is on the couch now with his
butt between my legs, his head and shoulders resting on my chest and my
arms around him.

She waves goodnight and tells Tim that Jon and I make a good couple.  Larry
and Charlene are back home from Bingo by the time the musical act plays
again.  Tim isn't home until SNL is over and we're just getting into bed.

He walks in an interrupts us in a 69, which he can clearly make out from
the hallway light, "Oh wow, oops!  Uh, cute ass Farrows.  I'll let you two
crazy kids do your thing, but I just wanted to thank you.  You guys being
gay scored me major points tonight.  Not quite that far yet, but you were
right Hunter, she is a frisky girl!  Thanks!"

>>).:.(<<



Only two chapters of WoT left to go, and for those looking for more, I will
be continuing Jon and Paul's adventures in college and will be bringing in
the boys from IF You Could Read My Mind and In This Cruel World.  (I'm not
sure yet how it will be listed.)

Drop me a line if it pleases you.  (It really does make my day)

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