Date: Sun, 19 Apr 2009 15:14:35 -0400
From: John Elash <phantomscorpio77@gmail.com>
Subject: New Story - gay/highschool - In This Cruel World

This story is a work of fiction.  Any resemblances to any person, place, or
written works are purely coincidental.  I retain all rights to the work,
and request that in any use of this material that my rights are respected.
Please do not copy or post this story in any manner without my permission.

It does contain consensual sex between young men.  You've found this site
like the rest of us so the assumption is that material of this nature does
not offend you.  If it does, or it is illegal for you to view this content
for whatever the reason, just keep on passing by.  Otherwise read of your
own free will.

Please let me know what you think!  [Feedback is the only way writers can
tell how they are doing.]  Direct any comments or suggestions to:
phantomscorpio77@gmail.com.


>>).:.(<<


In This Cruel World


I've always known that I am different from the other guys, in that I am
secretly turned on by them.  At first there was denial.  Eventually as
puberty came on it became more obvious to me as all my erotic thoughts
involved other guys, and only guys.  It wasn't even sexual at first.  It
could just be the way one guy looks in his clothes, or how another looks so
frail and vulnerable [and yummy] after falling on the ice when I play
hockey.  I've thought about it, but never stressed myself out over it.

When I first heard about homosexuality I stored the term away in my head
and quietly undertook it upon myself to figure out just what it means.  I
was already quite aware of my inner thoughts and their possible meanings
for so long.  Thus, when I investigated homosexuality, I reluctantly
accepted that it indeed includes me.  Yet having this knowledge is one
thing.  Knowing what to do with it is quite another.

My best friend in the whole world is Benji.  Benjamin Hannu Hartkainen to
be specific.  He goes by Ben but I've always gotten away with calling him
Benji.  Benji is your typical jock stud, but with brains too, where I feel
I am your typical awkward teen that seemingly just goes with the flow.  He
is 6'1" 185 lbs and built quite nicely where I am also 6'1" and hover
around 180 lbs.  His short dark brown hair [sometimes with blonde tips] is
styled just like my short jet black hair; messy and pushed forward with the
front spiked up.  A `Caesar' if you will.  I have to admit that his hair is
mostly always natural while I've either dyed or bleached mine for years.

Unlike his pale Finnish parents and brother, Benji has a natural darker
tanned skin.  I wouldn't say even as dark as olive, but just naturally a
bit more tan than the average Scandinavian.  Taking after my Finnish mother
I am embarrassingly pale, and taking after my Scottish father I am covered
with freckles.  Benji has light brown eyes, and he has 3 freckles on his
face.  Yes, exactly three, two under his left eye and one just above his
lip.  I have blue eyes and my light showing of freckles sit mostly beneath
my eyes and on my cheeks, which explode all over my forehead, neck,
shoulders and arms too when I spend time in the sun.

I consider us to both be straight acting, although as I've grown older the
two things that betray this are my desire for public affection and my
rainbow tattoo.  By public affection I don't mean making out or even a peck
or hug, it's more of a mental reassurance than a physical one that I seek;
like a hand on my back momentarily to let me know that I'm special to
someone.  That sort of public affection; I think this is a realistic
expectation.  As for my tattoo, it's a tribal sun; pretty standard, only
the sun rays are coloured in as if a rainbow flag were superimposed on
them.

Benji is totally straight sounding, you'd never guess him to be gay by just
talking with him.  Myself, while I certainly don't sound flaming, I have to
admit you may guess by my voice that I live somewhere in the rainbow
kingdom.

Below the belt we are near equals, and I assume that we are both moderately
above average.  Printed boxers are my thing, while he prefers thongs and
sports briefs that I steal from him all too often.  We both play hockey,
soccer and baseball, and have since we were little kids.  We jog together
and work-out at the gym together all the time, and we both used to swim
competitively.  After switching to water-polo for a couple years with me
Benji gave up the water.  I still play competitive water-polo at university
level.

His looks melt hearts; however I too get my share of praise!  By day we are
both kinda preppy/GQ/jockish in style if you can picture that; Khaki's are
as casual as we normally go, but we certainly wear jeans if it fits the
outfit.  By night we share a leather and vinyl fetish I guess.  Perhaps
more accurately we like dressing up a little `mod' mixed with `goth', and
sneaking out to Velvet Underground where we can dance to industrial music
and electronic until the sun comes up without our regular friends knowing.

I lust for Benji now like I did years ago, probably more; he is so kind and
caring to me, as I am to him.  Above all to me his strongest
characteristics have been his kindheartedness and his level of maturity.
Of course he lets loose too, but he has always just been levels above other
people I know in his actions towards me.

Growing up in today's society makes being gay easier than in the past I
guess.  Sure, kids can always be nasty, but I say this because while I know
behind my back I have always been labeled a fag, no one at school ever made
an issue of it to me.  I'm just Duncan, plain and simple.  Duncan Jussi
McKerracher.  Duncan after a small city nearby, and Jussi after my maternal
grandfather.

I'm 19 now, and in University.  In one way or another I have been in love
with the same guy for a minimum of 10 years.  Yes, while Benji has been my
best friend as far back as I can remember, I have also wanted him as my
boyfriend for so very long now.  I wish I could remember all the words that
we've exchanged, cute or sweet things said, but I only can write this based
on the experiences and emotions that I remember from the beginning, leading
up to fully remembered moments near the end.

Where it began for us was in bed.  You see despite both coming from happy
nuclear families Benji has always been there for me; like a brother, like a
best friend, whatever.  And I have always been there for him.  Like my 5
year older brother and Benji's younger brother, like most boys, sleepovers
seemed a very common and important part of defining ourselves as we reached
our teens.  Like some show of independence.  Between Benji and I though, as
we grew and reached puberty this is where things got really confusing.
Naturally it was ok as boys to share a bed at each other's house, but as we
grew through and beyond puberty we continued to, up to and including
sharing sleeping bags when camping.  I really think my unconditional love
for him started then, in a shared sleeping bag on a pull out bed.

This is my memory how things played out for us.


>>).:.(<<


It's Friday December 11th 1998, one day after Benji's 15th birthday.  We
are heading to his families' cottage in the Fraser Valley for the weekend.
The snow started off light and has betrayed the forecasts and is falling
fast and already accumulating higher than predicted for the entire weekend.
Traffic is bumper to bumper and the line of traffic we are in frequently
stops for minutes on end while the RCMP control traffic one way and then
the other on narrow passes, and by emergency vehicles.

"Man this drive really is a bitch," my best friend's brother exclaims.

Mrs. Hart doesn't stand for this, "Kimi Andrew Hartkainen, you watch your
mouth young man or I'll..."

"You'll what, Mom?  You're up there; I'm back here.  You can't reach me and
Dad can't have you distracting him," Kimi points out.

*Smack*

"Smarten up Kimi," Benji chastises his 13 year old brother after smacking
him for their mother.

The brothers start to swat at each other until we come to a stop again in
traffic.  Mr. Hart turns around.  In Finnish he swears up a storm at his
sons and threatens things to them that their poor mother never needed to
hear.  Of course being fluent in our parent's mother tongues at home we all
understand exactly what Mr. Hart says.  We get the point how agitated he is
when he takes Benji's Marilyn Manson CD out of the player and whips it out
the window onto a pine tree on the opposite side of the highway.

Before the line of traffic gets moving on the snowy road again Benji
crossed the road and retrieved his CD from a branch weighted down by snow.
On his mother's suggestion Benji and I switch seats so that I am sitting
between him and Kimi in the back of the Jeep Cherokee, to separate them.
This just means I get the occasional jab intended for the other brother.

It normally takes an hour and change to get there, but with the weather and
slow roads and highways it's already taken us almost 2 hours.  We are
better than 50 kilometers into the 70 km (50 mile) trek when Mr. Hart, as I
call his dad, suggests turning back for real.  Benji won't hear of it
though so we forge on.

By the time we get to the cottage, shovel the drive and get the fires going
it's almost 10 o'clock and we are weary.  While Benji and I shovel,
Mr. Hart keeps Kimi out of our hair and lights the fireplaces.  Mrs. Hart
makes the quickest dinner she can muster out of the groceries she brought.
Dinner consists of Kraft Dinner and microwaved bratwurst.  After the
presents and a cake that didn't travel too well his parents build up the
fireplaces for the night and force Kimi to bed.  Once both are accomplished
Mr. Hart tells us to bundle up and enjoy the night as we're heading back to
the city once the plows are out tomorrow.

Belatedly I call my parents to let them know we made it safely and are
heading home sometime tomorrow rather than Sunday.  After my call we get
brushing our teeth out of the way and I settle down on the pull-out couch
with Benji to kick his ass at NHL 98 on his Sega Saturn.  Instead of
letting us play his parents make us pause the game off so that they can
catch the Weather Channel before going to bed.  Neither of us are into the
game once we resume it so instead we turn the pullout couch into a bed and
set it up before playing a few minutes of Sonic Jam.

When we hear his dad snoring we figure it's the perfect opportunity to
sneak a beer each, seeing as how his dad won't be drinking the 6 pack this
weekend after all.  One beer each turns into two, and we then dare to
finish off the last of bottles.  In our sleeping bags on the pullout bed we
talk for a long time, both nursing our last beer because secretly neither
of us like beer, but what the hey; it's the principle of drinking the
forbidden beer that we care about anyhow!

Down to my boxers in the open room of the cottage I silently lament that we
didn't think to get one of the two tiny bedrooms.  They are always too hot
in the summer, but with the fireplaces going they are also too hot in the
winter.  Right about now that would be fine by me.  Instead I have goose
bumps from my waistband up and am trying to snuggle as deep into my
sleeping bag as I can while keeping an arm free to hold the beer.

I'm considering putting my jeans back on even if they are still wet at the
bottoms from shoveling when Benji gets out of his bag and strips down to
his boxers.  I can't chicken out now by putting mine back on, so I'll just
have to tough it out.  Out of the corner of my eyes I watch Benji strip and
hop into his sleeping bag, all the while trying to give the impression I am
affording him privacy while supposedly looking away.  Man I love the look
of boxers on him!  I'm so glad now that he's agreed with me that they are
way better than the briefs he always wore.

Inside his sleeping bag Benji can't get comfortable and keeps fighting with
the bottom of it.  This usually precedes him suggesting that we join our
sleeping bags together to make a big bag.  In the summer I am all for the
idea, especially as we hardly zip them up and sleep uncovered from the
waist up.  I mean hells ya, that lets me check out his lithe and manly
body.  Right now I'd almost protest because I am finally getting warm,
however the chance to sleep with Benji is too tempting.  He sighs.  Here it
comes!

"Dunc?  Wanna put 'em together or are we getting too old for that?  Your
call," he says.

"Lets do this shit and that way we can throw the spare on top of it," I
agree before adding, "I'm freezing my nuts off here!"

"Can't have that.  Too bad Neve Campbell isn't here to keep mine warm for
me on my birthday," he kids.

He's hooked on Neve Campbell, even made me see the boring movie 54 twice
with him so he could blow his load over her.  So of course I twist this on
him, "Don't you mean Ryan Phillipe?"

"No, that would be you.  Homo," he says, starting a string of insults.

"Fag," I counter.

"Queer."

"Cock sucker."

"Fudge packer."

"Benji," I say, intending to imply that his name is equitable to gay.

He doesn't get my burn, "Huh?"

"Nevermind Captain Ass-munch.  Hurry up and un-zip your bag, it's cold," I
prompt him.

Often at this point, after this usual banter, I end up getting quiet.  I'm
sure the uncharacteristic quietness always gets noticed by Benji.  My teeth
are chattering as Benji zips our matching sleeping bags together and I
throw the spare one his family keeps kicking around over top.  I bolt under
the covers, purposely hitting Benji with my hand and knee as I do, so that
we have momentary accidental contact.

Like I mentioned earlier, it's not uncommon for Benji and I to sleep
together at his house or mine, or especially while camping at his cottage.
Only it's changed for me over time.  For at least a year to this point
wherever we are, when sleeping with Benji I have often built up the nerve
to grind with him slightly when I know he is asleep.  This has woken him up
only on a few occasions that I know of, but each time that's happened I
completely backed off.  From time to time he pleasantly surprises me when I
spoon him in that he even grinds back, although he pretends to be asleep.
Either way, we never say anything about it, which almost leads me to
suspect that there have also been at least a few times that he only
pretended to be asleep in the first place.  Every once in a blue moon the
grinding has resulted in us jacking ourselves off, as we lay next to each
other.

So even though we are quiet after our trash talking I feel I can talk with
Benji about what's bothering me.  And I will, just not tonight, even though
it's technically not his birthday that I'd be ruining.  We have been
starting to talk more openly about things, and exploring ourselves more
lately.  I know it won't be a surprise to him that I like boys.

On this memorable night, settled into the sleeping bag Benji starts
rustling under the covers and I figure we're clear for a jack off session.
My hand is barely on my cock when I feel something warm and soft hit my
ribcage.  Benji is turned on his side, smiling at me in the darkness.  I
grab the object from beside me and bring it up and out of the sleeping bag.
Before I can focus on what it is Benji grabs it from me and face washes me
with it.  I pick it up and hold it out far enough to make out what it is.
When I focus on it I gasp.

"Dunc, I finally did it," Benji says, now tugging at my boxers, "I
discovered how good it feels to sleep free!"

This is something new to me and he knows it's caught me off guard.  I have
to be blushing, although the fireplace I'm sure isn't bright enough to
betray me.

He takes his boxers from my hand and reaches to put them back on, "Sorry
Dunc.  I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Staying him by putting my hand on his shoulder, my voice cracks as I too
firmly tell him, "It doesn't make me feel uncomfortable as long as you're
comfortable sleeping like that with me."  I try to say this in a way as to
put emphasis on the `with me', in my mind implying that he knows I love
pressing against his body.

"Pish posh.  Whatev.  I'm cool with it.  So if you're cool with it I'm cool
with that too," he says, brushing off my remark.  He tugs at my boxers and
discovers my excitement in the process, "You should try it.  Lose these.
Oops.  You got a stiffy!"

Occasional we bedtime wrestle, or more realistically I let him dominate me
and secretly enjoy the contact for as fleetingly long as possible.  Tonight
he aggressively rolls on top of me and pins me down like usual, minus the
wrestling.  Then Benji shocks the hell out of me.  This time is different.
This time he purposely sits on my hard-on and gives me the quickest of
pecks on the lips.  Even though he initiated it, and it's more than I've
dared hope for beyond my wildest daydreams, he recoils nearly as quickly as
I do.  I am dumbfounded by his actions for the second time in a matter of
moments!

Seemingly going for absolute emotional overload on my part, Benji explains,
"It's my birthday and the only thing I've wanted all day is to let you know
that I love you no matter what."

I don't know what to say so I just lie here with my best friend and sexual
infatuation sitting naked on top of me, hoping that it will never end.  Of
course all good things must end and he gets off of me.  He slides over to
his side of thesleeping bag, fluffs his pillow, and gets comfortable.  In
silence, he lets me slowly get closer to him until my hand is resting on
his pillow and my body is very slightly touching his.

It seems like forever, but is probably close to only a couple minutes of
this when he says my name, "Duncan?  I mean what I said.  I have to tell
you I don't like guys.  I do know you like me.  I don't care, I'm
flattered.  It doesn't scare me.  I do love you, just not that way."

I open my mouth to speak.  Rather than protest I intend to confess, "Benji,
you're"

Benji cuts me off, clutching my arm and holds it firmly to his chest,
"Lemme finish Dunc.  Sometimes I really wish I did like guys, just for you.
You're attention makes me feel special and I wish you could feel the way
you make me feel."

What the???  The words sting worse than anything I can remember.  I try to
pull away with all my strength, and manage to slightly, but there really
isn't anywhere to go in the conjoined sleeping bags.  He wiggles over to my
side and slips an arm under and around my chest, holding me close until I
finally give up rebuffing him.  His body is pressed up against mine and he
gently kisses me on the nape of my neck.  In confusion, in hurt and shame,
I am almost paralyzed.

Whispering into my ear he reassures me, "You have always been, and will
always be my best friend.  I don't care what anyone thinks about you, or me
for associating with you.  You do so many nice things for me, and although
it maybe should disturb me, I kind of love the contact when you sleep
pressed up against me.  You make me feel so special when you hold me.  All
I really want for my birthday is for you to be happy."

Turning me in my catatonic state so that we are fully face to face, he
forces another kiss on the lips.  Not that I really have to forced, even
after what has just happened!  In my adolescent way I want Benji so badly
that his acceptance, as much as it shames me, will suffice.  I do wonder
just what is going on though; Benji never plays cruel jokes on anyone.  Is
this for real?  My mind races as we lie silently together, his body pressed
against mine, his arm now around my abs.  He keeps moving, trying to get
comfortable, which inevitably leads to him getting a hard-on that pokes
into one of my butt cheeks.  Of course, all of this is producing the same
reaction in me!

[to be continued]