Date: Mon, 28 May 2001 23:11:09 -0500
From: Brennan Jobse <bjobse414@hotmail.com>
Subject: Running Scared - Chapter Three

Title: Running Scared
Category: Gay Male/High School

Disclaimer: "Welcome to my parlor," said the spider to the fly. Now here
comes the question. Are you ready? Okay, here goes. Should you be here?
Only you know the answer to that, my friends. Now let's look at this
rationally, because we're all calm, civilized people, right? Point One: If
you're under 18, I'm not gonna tell you to leave. Why not? Because I can't
make your choices for you. Only you can do that. I AM, however, gonna tell
you that if you are under 18 and you feel like reading it anyway (Rock on!
Power to the opressed youth!), don't get caught. Point Two: Let me remind
everyone that this is a work of homosexual fiction. Smaller terms?  It's a
GAY STORY.  Which brings us to Point Three: If this kind of thing weirds
you out or disgusts you, I have only one thing to say. Scram. I don't want
you here to begin with. For the rest of you, kick back and enjoy the
story!!

To my good friends Desarae and Sandeep: May your love bring you a
lifetime's worth of happiness and beyond.

Running Scared
Chapter Three
By Brennan Jobse

It had been five days since the dream and things were getting bad. I kept
catching myself looking for clues. Was Austin gay? Did he like me? Did he
like me but not want me to know because he was scared? Did he know I liked
him and was secretly laughing at me? By the end of the day, my head ached
from dwelling on it all day and I was relieved when the final bell rang,
signaling the end of class.

For an hour and a half I played soccer. Wonderful, perfect, blissfully
mindless soccer.  When it was over, I was sore and exhausted. But at least
my head didn't hurt anymore. I got changed and stumbled home with the
intent of doing nothing more than appeasing my father with my presence for
a short while and then crashing for the rest of the day in my bedroom.

When I walked through the door, I could smell the alcohol in the air. I
cursed inwardly to myself. My dad had been having problems at work lately,
new criteria concerning new recruits.  Unfortunately for me, this
translated into Dad having a couple of stiff drinks when he got home.
Which meant, I wanted to be somewhere, anywhere, other than here.

I considered my options. Try and sneak quietly up to my room and hope he
passed out before long, or go to Aaron's place and chill for a while. I
spun on my heels and headed for Aaron's.

I was thinking about nothing in particular when it hit me that it was the
20th of January. Aaron's birthday was in a little over two months. It had
been a long standing tradition that we always exchanged presents on the
midnight of the 23rd. Didn't really leave a lot of opportunity for
extravagant last minute gifts. I frowned in frustration. For all the
goofing around he did, Aaron was a sensitive guy. He put a lot of thought
into things like this. Last year, he had saved for months to get me an
autographed photo of Benito Yanez, my all time favorite soccer player.

I rang the doorbell and waited outside until Aaron's mom answered it. Mrs.
Riveste (she insisted I call her Jenn; said 'Mrs. Riveste' made her feel
sixty) was a wonderful person. She was one of those people who liked to
laugh and you didn't feel awkward around her ever. She and my mom were best
friends.

"Ben!" she cried, wrapping her arms around me. "I haven't seen you in
FOREVER!"

"Likewise," I agreed. "How're things?" I stepped inside the house and was
bombarded by the strong scent of chili. I heard a thunder of footsteps
above my head and smiled.

"Any better and I couldn't stand it. You? How's school?"

I was just about to answer when I was tackled to the ground by Sara and
Emily, Aaron's six year old twin sisters. "Ben!" they squealed, jumping on
top of me.

"Girls! You know better than to treat guests that way!" Jenn scolded.

Emily, the younger of the two, looked at her mom like she was from Mars.
"But Mommy, Ben's not a guest. He's just Ben."

"Yeah," Sara chimed in, "Ben smells too good to be a guest. All Daddy's
guests smell like cabbage."

"Sara!"

The girls giggled and got off me, bounding back up the stairs. I picked
myself up and grinned at Jenn, who looked at me apologetically. I sent her
back to her chili making operation and went downstairs to see what Aaron
was up to.

He was sitting on the old ratty couch that they had 'saved' from a yard
sale a few years back. Personally, I thought it looked like it had been
rescued from a Dumpster. It was beige and yellow, with rips and tears
everywhere, but none big enough so that the springs popped out. But, it was
comfortable enough to veg on, which was good enough for us.

I hopped over the back of it and landed next to Aaron, who didn't even look
away from the TV to see who it was. "Hey," he said, staring intently at the
screen.

"What're you watching?"

"Shh. Very important. Absolutely crucial that I see this." He was watching
the news. They were yammering about the Napster court case. They had lost
their case and were trying for an appeal. Aaron looked sort of broken up
about it so I let him watch the rest of his snippet in peace.

"Shitty deal," I said after it was over.

"Yeah," he sighed, flipping to MuchMusic. "But it'll get better."

We basked in the utter idiocy of the set for a few minutes. Ain't TV grand?
Flashing lights, loud noises, what else do you need? "So," he said, turning
to me, "what brings you to my humble abode?"

I groaned. "My dad."

Aaron got a wary look on his face. "What now?"

I shook my head to ease his suspicions. I knew what he was thinking. A few
months before I told Aaron I was gay, he had noticed my bruises. Seeing as
how he WAS my best friend (and the bastard wouldn't let it go) I decided to
let him in on a little of it, and admitted, reluctantly, that every now and
then, my dear old papa would vent his aggression on me.  Aaron was, to say
the least, pissed. He had gone on and on about how that was child abuse and
it was wrong and he couldn't get away with it. For almost six hours
straight he kept that up, until I finally convinced him that it wasn't
terribly serious.

"He's drinking himself into a stupor and I just didn't feel like being at
home," I said simply. I didn't like talking about it much. I felt bad
because I never told Aaron the whole truth about my home life. But, I
reasoned, if he knew, it would upset him, and that was the last thing I
wanted.

"You know my place is open any time you want it, man," he reminded me, his
brown eyes reflecting the light of the TV in the dimly lighted basement..

I nodded. "So what are you doing tonight?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Hmm, big date tonight," he said smugly, turning back toward the TV.

"No way!" I exclaimed. "Who?"

"Amy Klisdale."

"That chick from your drama class?"

He smiled and nodded. "We're going to check out 'Brigadoon' at the outdoor
theater on Phoenix. It's her favorite play."

"So is there something there or what?"

"How should I know? I only asked her out today."

"Yeah, but you're in her class. Do you two hang out?"

"Sort of. Anyway, speaking of something there, what's the deal with you and
Austin?" He grinned lewdly and raised his eyebrows.

Maybe I could lie. "Nothing," I said innocently.

"Nothing?"

Maybe not. I sighed. "Okay, there is something-" I started.

"I knew it! He likes you doesn't he?"

I shook my head to try and relieve the headache from before that threatened
to return.  "No. Maybe. I don't know."

"But you like him," Aaron confirmed. I nodded. "That's all it is?" he
persisted.

I considered this for a moment. How did I feel about Austin? At first it
was relatively easy to define. I thought of Austin, I got hard, I whacked
off. Nice, simple, basic, teenage crush that I knew I would eventually get
over. But lately, I noticed things about him that didn't make me hot. They
made me smile. Like the way his teeth always showed just a little bit when
he smiled. Or the way his eyes scrunched up when he was trying to figure
out a math question. These little observations brought forward a completely
new take on things. One I had never experienced before. Maybe there was
something more there. Maybe not. I didn't know.

To Aaron, I shrugged helplessly. We lost ourselves in the surreal glow of
the TV until Jenn called Aaron for dinner. I decided it was time for me to
go.

"I'm gone, man," I said, rising from the couch.

"You sure?" he asked, looking a little concerned. "You could stay if you
want."

"Nah. I should go check on my dad anyway." I dreaded the thought. Bastard
was probably passed out on the couch in a puddle of drool. If I was lucky
maybe he would have hauled himself into bed. Not likely.

"Your call," he shrugged, walking me to the door.

"Bye Ben!" the soprano voices called from the kitchen.

"Bye girls!" I called back, shooting a grin at Aaron, who rolled his eyes.
He never understood how me and his sisters got along so well. I think it's
because I was an only child.

"Did they get you on the way in?" he asked as I stood on his porch. I just
smiled. He shook his head in defeat and smiled to himself. "Sad, man," was
the last thing I heard, and then I was staring at a door.

It was dusk when I walked home that night. About 6:30 or so. The sunset was
brilliant. A swirling mass of orange, yellow, red, pink, and purple
illuminating the clouds and making the trees shine with color. It was
incredible. What would it be like to have somebody to share it with?

I thought about my dad, wondered what state he'd be in when I got home. I
hoped I wouldn't have to do to much for him tonight. I wasn't in a very
charitable mood when it came to him. My mom always gave him the benefit of
the doubt. She'd like this, I thought, looking up at the painted sky. I
thought about Aaron. Thought about where we stood now as opposed to where
we had stood in the past. He knew more of me than anyone else in the world,
and though I desperately wanted it to, it didn't amount to much. I thought
about Austin. I ached to tell him how I felt, what little I could be sure
of anyway. I wanted... I didn't know what I wanted. All I knew was that I
felt something for Austin. Something strong. And I had no idea what it was.

By the time I had climbed my front steps, the good mood I had found at
Aaron's had dissolved into one of remorse and self-pity. I hated my
life. You know the old saying about being all alone in a room full of
people? That was me. I had people around me, everywhere, but I was all by
myself.

I fished out my keys from my pocket and opened the door. It was dark
inside.  Maybe my dad had gone to bed. I flicked on a light and wandered
through the house. Damage control, I thought ruefully to myself. The place
wasn't in good shape, but it wasn't terrible either. Pretty moderate,
actually. There were empty bottles and pools of booze on the coffee table
in the living room, and some furniture and pictures were knocked over, but
otherwise, everything was fine. My father was nowhere to be found. And that
scared me.

"So," a menacing voice behind me growled. "Little baby Benny's home from
his outing." I spun around and saw my dad leaning against the kitchen
counter. He leered at me and I felt cold sweat form on the back of my
neck. He lost the grin and lunged toward me, grabbing my arm. "Where the
fuck were you?" he seethed.

I could smell the stale alcohol on his breath and my throat tightened with
panic. The episodes were always worst when my dad was drunk. I tried to
free my arm and lurched backwards into a plaster bust of some ancient
general. It fell to the floor and broke with a crash. My dad looked at the
broken plaster on the hardwood floor and looked back at me. I pressed my
back up farther against the wall and he drew himself up to his full
height. My dad was a big guy, 6"3'.  I, on the other hand, was a dismal
5"9' in comparison.

He let go of my arm and stepped back a bit, staring at me intently. I knew
I should move, should run, but I couldn't. My legs wouldn't do what I
wanted them to. He picked an empty bottle up off the table and toyed with
it, turning it over a couple of times, all the while his eyes on me. The
sound of breaking glass filled the room as he smashed the bottle on the
table. He flashed a toothy grin and advanced on me, holding the bottle by
the neck.

"Look what you've gone and done," he slurred angrily, grabbing me by the
shirt collar and pushing me against the wall. "LOOK!"

"Dad, I'm sorry!" I blurted out. My voice was trembling.

"Sorry doesn't fix my statue, does it? Does it?!?" he screamed, waving the
broken bottle toward the mess on the floor. I shook my head, eyes wide, too
scared to say anything. He held me there, against the wall for a few more
seconds. He glanced at the weapon in his hand and then looked at me. His
eyes flashed with indecision. "I should fucking kill you," he sneered. My
body stiffened, preparing for the blows. But they never came. He let me go
and I collapsed. I heard him toss the bottle on the floor. "Lousy goddam
waste," he muttered and stumbled to his room, leaving me there in a
quivering heap on the floor.

Like so many nights before, I cleaned up the aftermath of our little brawl
and went to my room to check myself out. I was fine, but it didn't make me
feel any better. My dad hated me.  I changed into my sweats and crawled
into bed. My stomach rumbled. It was 7:00; seven hours since I had eaten
last. I ignored it. I didn't feel like eating right now. I didn't feel like
doing anything right now. Except sleeping.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

My alarm clock broke me out of a fitful sleep. I rolled over and checked
the time. 7:45.  Just like yesterday. I pulled myself out of bed and went
to the kitchen for some breakfast. Toast with peanut butter and a glass of
milk. Breakfast of champions. As I ate, I thought about that dream last
night. What a mindjob. I dreamed he almost cut me open with a broken
bottle. How trippy is that? For a long time now, my dad had smacked me
around, but he'd never dream of killing me. When I finished my food, I put
my dishes in the dishwasher and went to throw the now-empty peanut butter
jar in the garbage. I froze, jar in my hand just above the trash, when I
saw what was inside.

Glass. Broken glass. And plaster pieces. With some kind of shape to them.
No. I ran to the living room and looked where my dad's bust of General Lee
was. It was gone. No, not gone, I corrected myself silently. In the
trash. Which meant it wasn't a dream. It happened. All of it.  The statue,
the bottle, the threats. It all happened.

The room suddenly got small, small, small, and I felt my chest get tight.
Jesus. My dad almost killed me last night. I had to conciously remind mysef
to breathe. I was almost okay, when I heard him come down the stairs and
into the kitchen for his morning cup of coffee. The kitchen was between my
room and the living room. There was no way to avoid him.

I stepped out of the living room and quielty said, "Good morning, sir," in
a voice that I hoped didn't betray me too much. A thin layer of sweat had
broken out on my face and my hands wouldn't stop trembling.

He ignored me and took a long sip of the black liquid in his cup.

I walked hurriedly to the bathroom and made it just in time to heave up my
breakfast.  Every time I sat back to catch my breath, another wave of
nausea would hit, and I'd be hunched over the bowl again. Soon, I had
thrown up all my food and was just dry heaving. When the tremors finally
subsided, I leaned back against the bathtub and closed my eyes. It's true,
I thought. It really happened. Then another thought crept into my mind. One
that had started the night before.  He hates me. That realization almost
crippled me more than the fear I had of him.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

In the following weeks, the depression that had began that day struck with
a vengeance.  At first, I just cried by myself in my room a lot. My dad
hated me. Every time I thought I was too numb to cry about it anymore, that
thought would hit me like a brick wall and the tears would start again. As
the days went on, I just wanted to stay curled up in my bed and forget that
a world outside my walls existed. But, I had no choice. I had school and my
dad wouldn't hear of it.

"I'm not paying school taxes to have you stay at home, you lazy shit! Now
get your ass to school if you know what's good for you!"

Whatever. I didn't even try to avoid the beatings anymore. If they
happened, they happened. They all blurred together now. A slap was a punch
was a kick was a broken bone. It was easier this way. No more pathetic
`It'll get better' hope. Acceptance. This was how things were.

One morning, I looked at my reflection in the mirror and felt nothing for
the boy I saw there. Nothing. He looked back at me, dirty blond hair matted
on one side from sleeping on it, hazel eyes hollow and dull staring out of
a catatonic face riddled with bruises. I didn't care.  Let the little shit
fend for himself. I had to.

I got to school that day, late, as I had every day since that night. Mrs.
McRae, my World Issues teacher, had asked me if anything was wrong
yesterday after class.  She said that I could come to her if I needed help
with anything. I almost laughed in her face.  What the hell could she do?
We talked about the halted feminist movement in Afghanistan in class that
day. Or rather, the class talked and I built pyramids with some rocks I
found on my way to school.

When the period ended, Aaron, who was in my class, grabbed me by the arm
and pulled me outside. We stopped at a wooded park not far from
school. There were benches and picnic tables, lots of trees, a nice little
place actually. Aaron sat me down on a bench and demanded to know what was
going on.

"I've never seen you like this before, Ben, and I've known you my whole
life. You're sleeping through class, you haven't been at soccer practice in
almost 2 weeks, you ignore everybody and give them this big 'fuck you'
attitude. You're out of control, man. You're NEVER out of control. I wanna
know what's up."  I leaned back against a tree and looked up at him. His
jaw was set in a firm line and determination was in his eyes.

"Well?" he asked. I was silent. I just stared at him, feeling nothing,
thinking nothing. Just staring.

"Ben." He sat down on the bench so he was at eye level. "Tell me what's
wrong. Please?" His face had turned from determined to imploring. I didn't
say a word. "Fine," he sighed, getting up. "You know where to find me if
you wanna talk." With that, he went back to school alone.

I sat there in that park for some time, listening to the little kids play
on the swings beyond the trees. I must have sat there for hours, because by
the time I decided I wanted to go home, the sky, which had been bright and
sunny that morning, was heavy with rain clouds just waiting to open up. I
walked through my front door just as the rain began to fall.

Ben: Won't be home until tomorrow night. Find some food. Dad.

I crumpled up the note and stuffed it into the pocket of my jeans. Where
had he gone? I wondered. I dismissed the thought as quickly as it had
come. Didn't matter.  I searched the cupboards for something for
supper. Nothing I wanted. Didn't really feel like supper tonight anyhow. As
I went to close the cupboard doors, a flash up on the top shelf caught my
eye.  Intrigued, I stood on my tiptoes and took it out. It was a bottle of
rum.  I shrugged. Might as well.

I wasn't a big drinker. In fact, I had never drank before in my life. So I
put some ice in a glass and took a bottle of Coke into the living room to
watch TV. The alcohol stung at the cuts in my mouth that hadn't healed from
yesterday's beating. But the buzz I got was more than worth the pain.

After two or three drinks, I decided I was hungry after all. I half-walked,
half-stumbled into the kitchen and found some chicken in the fridge, which
I devoured. I felt much better after that, not so dizzy. I wondered if it
was the alcohol that was making me dizzy or the fact that I hadn't eaten
since yesterday. I went back into the living room and drank some more. I
was watching a sitcom, Friends I think, when I heard the doorbell ring. By
now, the rum had taken considerable effect on my sense of balance and I had
to hold onto the wall to keep from falling down. I looked through the
window and flung open to door with a smile.

"Austin!" The volume of my greeting surprised him and he took a step back.

"Hey, Ben," he said, recovered from his shock. Wow, he looked good. His
black hair was plastered to his head and there was a puddle forming
underneath the overhang where he was standing. "Can I come in?"

"No."

He looked confused.  "Why not?"

"Because," I replied, poking a finger onto his chest with every word,
"you're all wet."  I kept a straight face for as long as I could (all of 2
and a half seconds) and then dissolved in a fit of laughter. "I'm just
kidding, Austin. Come in, come in," I waved him in with my hand.

He came in, albeit slowly and with a wary look on his face. I let go of the
door to let him in and fell forward into his chest. He grabbed my shoulders
to hold me up and I maneuvered my feet so I could stand again. "Are you
okay?" he asked.

I nodded. "Mmmhmm."

He shot me a quizzical look and sniffed the air. "Are you drunk?"

I made a face and scoffed. "Pfft. No. Well," I said, pinching my fingers
together, "maybe a little bit." I walked to the living room and flopped
down on the couch.  Austin followed me and stared as I poured myself
another drink.

"Where's your dad?" he asked in a stunned voice.

I shrugged. "I dunno," I slurred. "I think he's at work. The note didn't
say." I took a sip of my drink and put it down. "You want a drink?" I
offered. He shook his head. "Okay, I'm-- I'm gonna have another drink," I
said, holding up my glass and bringing it to my lips.

"I think you've had enough to drink," Austin said, taking it from me and
setting it on the table.

I narrowed my eyes at him and then shrugged. "Alright then." I closed my
eyes and leaned back on the couch. Austin sat down in an easy chair. "So
what's new, Austin?" I asked, and opened my eyes lazily.

"Not much, I just came by to visit."

"Aaron didn't send you?" I asked with disdain.

"Aaron? I just got back tonight, Ben. I was in Kelowna, remember?" Oh,
yeah.  I knew that.  His family had gone to visit Michael, Austin's big
brother. They had been gone for like, a week.  "Why? What happened with
Aaron?"

I yawned. "He says I'm `out of control'," I replied.

"Why? What'd you do?"

I was slow in answering, primarily because I was trying to focus on one
Austin to talk to. He had split into three or four people. How'd he do
that? I rubbed my eyes to clear them. "I dunno," I answered finally. There
was a long pause.

"Ben," he started, then stopped, shaking his head. His voice had a
reprimanding tone to it.

"What?" I didn't like where this was going.

"We both know that Aaron wouldn't imagine something like that. And I'm not
stupid either.  Look at you. You're drunk, for God's sakes. This isn't the
Ben I know. What happened?"

I folded my arms across my chest and looked at the couch. "I don't want to
talk about it."

"Well, I do!"

I snapped my eyes back toward him. His were flashing, defiant, daring me to
challenge him. I got up off the couch and stalked angrily over to the
chair, the dizziness and double vision only slight now. "You want to talk
about it?" I asked. He nodded solidly. "You know what I want?" I grabbed
him by the shirt and lifted him up out of the chair so he stood before me.
"You know what I want?" I asked him again.

"What do you want?"

"This." I put my hands behind his head, drew him roughly to me, and kissed
him. I don't know WHERE it came from. It must have been the alcohol. There
was no way I'd ever have been able to do that under my own power. No
fucking way. He put his hands on my chest and shoved me back, causing me to
fall into the chair. I felt my heart rip into a thousand tiny pieces as I
sat there, staring up at him staring down at me. My eyes welled up with
tears and I felt sick.

"Oh, God," I stammered. "I'm so sorry, Austin. I... the rum... I... Oh,
God, Austin, I'm so sorry." He grabbed me by the shirt and lifted me up,
just like I had done to him moments before. I was sure he was going to kick
the shit out of me so I braced myself for it and shut my eyes tight...

"Not like that," he whispered, and ran a hand through my hair. My eyes
opened in confusion and he brought my face closer to his. "Like this." He
touched his lips to mine lightly and kept them still for a moment. They
began to move delicately over mine and I crumpled where I stood. He caught
me by the ribs and pulled me back up, hugging my body close to his without
breaking the kiss. I felt his tongue push against my lips and I opened my
mouth eagerly. My tongue found his and they dueled intensely before
relaxing and exploring the other's mouth. He tasted faintly like mint; real
mint, not fake toothpasty mint. I moaned softly into his mouth and he
hugged me tighter, running his hands up and down my back. He came up for
air and leaned his forehead against mine, eyes closed, trying to catch his
breath.

"Ben," he breathed shakily.

I covered his mouth with mine again and he scooped me up in his arms and
headed down the hall to my bedroom. As soon as he laid me down on the bed,
the power went out and we were immersed in blackness. The storm must have
knocked down the lines. Austin felt around in the dark and began to nibble
at my neck.

"Wait," I said, pushing him away and sitting up.

"What's wrong?"

"I want to see you."

I got up and fumbled in the dark for some candles and a lighter. I lit
enough so that the room glowed dimly with flickering candlelight and went
back to the bed, where Austin was sitting, watching me. I took his face in
my hands and ran my eyes over it. It was like I was seeing him for the
first time again. Dark blue eyes, almost black in this light, glowed
faintly with something I couldn't read. His hair had almost dried by now
and was sticking up in little tufts.  His clothes were still wet, though,
and I could make out every ripple of muscle beneath the fabric. My eyes
roamed over every inch of him, trying to memorize his every feature, like I
thought I'd never see him again.

"Much better," I said softly, leaning in for a kiss.

It was soft at first, and steadily grew more and more passionate until I
was on top of him, covering his body like a blanket. I rubbed his nipples
through his wet shirt and he moaned into my mouth, sending vibrations up
and down my spine. He had his hands on my ass and pulled my crotch toward
his. I gasped as our hard-ons rubbed together through strained fabric. It
was incredible. Every cell in my body was on fire, exploding with
unrestrained lust. I wanted him so bad.

I chewed gently on his left nipple, making it stand up under the wet
material of his shirt and then repeated the process with the right one.
"Oh, God, Ben," he moaned breathily.  "Oh, God." Finally, I decided I had
teased him long enough and lifted the wet shirt over his head. It landed
with a whump on the floor somewhere. His skin was cool from the rain and
wet clothes, but warmth emanated from him like he was on fire. I ran my
lips over the contours of his body, pausing at his belly button to stick my
tongue in. He moaned loudly and thrust his hips up at me. I smiled to
myself. Mental note: Belly button's a good place to hang out.

I kissed my way down to the waistband of his jeans and undid the button.
Slowly, I pulled down the zipper and slipped the pants off his slender
frame. I nudged the tent in his boxers with my nose and Austin let out a
sigh of pleasure. Wasting no time, I ripped the boxers off and dove on his
cock. It was slick with salty precum and I savored the taste. He was a good
size, at least in my opinion. I couldn't really say. It wasn't like I had a
huge amount of experience or anything. But he was a good six inches. I
barely managed to get it all in without gagging.

He pulled in a sharp breath and I glanced up at him, afraid for a second
that I had hurt him. His eyes were shut lightly and he opened them when he
felt me stop. He smiled gently to let me know it was okay and began to
stroke my hair while I sucked his dick. Up and down and up and down I
bobbed, until he was writhing with ecstasy.

"Ben," he panted as he got close. "Ben, I'm cumming, man." This was it. I
plunged down on his cock as far as I could go and sucked hard. I felt his
cock expand in my mouth and wave after wave of hot cum flew down my throat
so fast I couldn't even taste it. Austin let out a scream as he came and
thrust his hips up at my face. Austin's screams of pleasure were more than
enough to do me in and I shot off in my boxers. I let out a low moan around
his cock and tried to focus on swallowing. After his third shot, the flow
slowed down to a trickle and I rolled a little of it around on my tongue to
taste it. He tasted wonderful, an exotic mix of herbs and salt. I moved
back up to his face and kissed him, probing my tongue deep into his mouth.

I moved my face back a little so I could look at him. His eyes were closed
and he was starting to breathe normally again. His cheeks were flushed and
rosy in the candlelight. I smiled and ran my hand along the side of his
face. I didn't know someone could look that content or at peace with the
world. It was beautiful.

He opened his eyes and gazed into mine dreamily. "That was amazing," he
whispered.

"Yeah," I whispered back with a smile on my lips. "We'll definately have to
try that again sometime." I slid off him and took off my clothes. They
didn't feel right. Not with Austin.  Naked, I cuddled up close to him and
pulled the covers over us. "What time do you have to be home?" I asked,
running my fingers through his ebony hair.

"My parents are in Kelowna for another day. I can stay as long as I like,"
he answered quietly. It was almost like talking too loud would ruin the
atmosphere.  "Ben?"

"Yeah, Austin?"

"How come you wanted the candles?"

"I wanted to be able to see you."

"Why?" He looked so innocent, asking me that, and it warmed my heart.

"Because," I told him, smiling a little, "you're beautiful, Austin. You
have this 'thing' around you, this feeling I can see. In your eyes
mostly. And it makes them sparkle. I can't really explain it.  I just want
to see you, Austin. Always."

He blushed and bowed his head into his chest shyly, then looked up again.
"Ben?" he asked in a small voice. "Can I stay here with you tonight?"

I smiled and intertwined my feet with his. "You can stay as long as you
like. Remember?"

He smiled and nodded. Then he closed his eyes and cuddled up even closer to
me than he already was. "I really like you, Ben," he murmered sleepily into
my chest.

I felt a lump the size of a softball form in my throat. "I really like you
too, Austin," I whispered hoarsly.

We slept that night, our first night, wrapped in each other's
arms. Outside, the wind howled and the rain came down in torrents. There
was a steady hum as it fell from the sky and onto the pavement. It was a
soothing, lullaby-like sound. My last concious thought was me wondering
what I had done to deserve a blessing such as this.


Brennan's Ramblings: Whew! My longest chapter yet. And by far, the hardest.
So, I, being the inexperienced writer, am in desperate need of feedback. To
help you along, and quite possibly dig my own grave here, I even have
questions for you, the readers. Check out the interactive online story
writing business. Wow and stuff. Okay, guys, here we go. How was that sex
scene?  (It was my first. Could you tell?)  I mean, really, how was it? Do
you think it sounded fake, do you think it sounded forced, or was it
passable? And the whole depression thing in the middle.  Did I totally bomb
that or was it okay? Oh yeah. And thank you so much to the girls in my
science class: Erin, Christina, Sasha, Tina, Lindsay, Dayna, and Desarae
from English. These wonderful people read it over for me and helped me work
out all the kinks (and believe me, there were lots).  Thank you to Sam, my
oldest friend in the world (since we were four!). I love you, baby!  A
hundred thousand thanks to everyone who wrote me so far. I really
appreciate it. Makes me feel all warm and gooey inside. Keep 'em coming!
bjobse414@hotmail.com


The Recs: Oh, yeah. {smack} I almost forgot. I figured, you know, you's
guys have been so great, reading my stuff and emailing me and all, I
thought I'd let you in on a few gems I've found here at the glorious NIFTY
ARCHIVES and maybe a couple other places. See, this way, I figure, if I
write a really awful chapter and it leaves you, shall we say 'unfulfilled',
you can try something else. Sound like a plan? Okay. Today, the
recommendation is.....  Leo and Jase in the Gay High School section of the
Nifty Archives, the first gay story I ever read. It's a finished story. The
last chapter was posted on Dec. 29, 2000, I think. Anyhow, I liked it a
lot. Enjoy!