Date: Thu, 22 Feb 2001 04:50:07 -0800
From: David Cross <dcross1@home.com>
Subject: shane-and-robin-7

The usual disclaimers apply - ie. no reading this if you're not of age to
read it, and no peeking at this if you can't stand gay people (which would
bring to mind the question of what the hell you're doing reading this
anyway).

An apology is in order to all you people out there who waited so patiently
for me to continue this story. I can only hope that this'll hold you :) I
wrote part 6 to "fill the gap" until I could get numbers 7 and 8 out, which
is why it was so short.

All questions etc can be directed to dcross1@home.com

----

September 12, 1992

5:00 AM

Shane stood in a hall of mirrors which reached from the floor to the
ceiling. The hall seemed to have no end in either direction, and the
mirrors were all about four feet wide, and spaced apart 8 feet on either
side. The hall itself was around 7 feet wide, and ten feet high. He looked
around, wondering where he was, and how he could get out of there. So he
picked a direction, and began walking. The walls were unwallpapered, but
each eight foot by ten foot wall segment showed a different abstractly
rendered mural. The first mirror he passed reflected his image back at him,
as well as that of the other mirror directly across. So too did the other
few mirror pairs.

Then, suddenly, as Shane walked by the sixth or seventh mirror pair, the
reflection suddenly inverted in color - almost like a photographic
negative. Shocked, Shane approached the mirror which was on his right hand
side. He put his palm to the mirror, but felt nothing except the expected
physical smoothness of the glass. Yet the image stubbornly stayed reversed
in color.

Shane walked briskly to the next mirror-pair, hoping that the sight he had
witnessed previously was just an aberration. This time, however, the
reflection was correct in color, but upside down! Rattled, he started
running, as far and as fast as he could, not daring to look in any
direction except ahead of him. Finally, when his energy gave out, he
stopped, panting and gasping for air. Wearily, he looked up and noticed he
was right in front of yet another mirror. What he saw made him yelp in
fright and leap backwards a good three feet. In the mirror's reflection,
moving exactly as he was, was Robin Peterson. Or if it wasn't him, it was
the guy's spitting image.

Shane tentatively reached toward the mirror plane, unbelieving as his
"mirror image" that was Robin reached towards the plane also. Their palms
touched, and Shane felt a strange warmth begin to emanate from his palm. He
took his hand away abruptly, and the warmth ceased. Confused, he put his
hand to the mirror again, and the warmth resumed. He then received an even
bigger surprise when he pushed further and his hand actually went THROUGH
the mirror - and the warmth began to envelop the portion of his arm that
was "behind" the mirror.

Shane strode forward, and just as his face touched the mirror...

*POOF!*

Shane sat up, breathing heavily. He was in his bed, and it was still dark
out. He looked wildly around his room for his alarm clock; he focussed, saw
that the time was 5:17 AM. He rubbed his face, and found that his forehead
was sweaty. He wiped the sweat off with his pajama sleeve and breathed a
long sigh of relief. He lay back, his head on the pillow, his eyes
searching the ceiling for some answer to this mystery. He felt his heart
rate go back to normal; his body heat seemed to lessen somewhat.

"Robin, who are you, that I should be mindful of you?" Shane asked
himself. Since no answer was forthcoming, he decided to meet Robin up
close, face to face. But how in the blazes was he going to accomplish that?
He considered several avenues, and then decided, for lack of anything
better, to use the old standby. He would "need help" with his Biology
assignment. In actual fact it looked like it was a piece of cake, but what
the hell. It sounded better than an anonymous note.

He rose from his bed, and changed into a jogging outfit. He left the house,
and ran west, his back to the twilight...

6:00 AM

Shane returned to the front door, breathing heavily again, this time from
his physical exertions. He unlocked the door, stepped inside, and gasped
when he saw his father sitting at the kitchen table; in semidarkness, his
father looked almost like the Soviet judges sometimes seen in old movies,
pronouncing harsh sentences after show trials. For an irrational moment, he
feared that his secret had been revealed, but as it turned out his
suspicions were unwarranted.

Don inquired, "You were out running?"

Shane nodded.

"Very well. Your mother and I have to go out all day today. We were asked
last night to help out with the church social for new arrivals to this town
whose children are going to school. So you can go out, do whatever you
like, but remember: be back here by 10 o'clock PM. No later!"

"OK. I'll probably just catch up on my homework and do my chores."

His father didn't budge from his chair, and Shane, after a moment's
hesitation, left to take a shower, then to tackle his homework assignments
and chores.

9:00 AM

The muted roar of a car engine caught Shane's ear as he was finishing his
Biology assignment. His mouth quirked as he thought of the ruse he was
going to pull later on. He walked outside to see his parents' car idling as
his mother was opening the passenger door. She looked up, smiled and waved,
then sat in the car and closed the door. His father gave a curt nod and
shifted into reverse. Twenty seconds later, they were gone.

Shane got out the telephone book and began searching for Robin's last
name. He soon found it, and noted that it was the only one for which the
address indicated that the family lived near Southgate. Mentally crossing
his fingers, he dialled the number, and was rewarded when a rather chipper
female voice answered. "Good morning, Peterson residence, Ann speaking."

"Good morning. Uh, this is Shane Wilson, one of Robin's classmates in
Biology. Could I speak to him, please?"

"He's actually just finishing breakfast right now. Can I have him call
you?"

"Sure." He gave his phone number, then said his goodbyes and hung up.

A few minutes later, the phone rang, and Shane picked up the handset to be
greeted with a nervous, "Hello? Is Shane there?"

"This is Shane. Is this Robin?"

"Yup. Uh, my mom said something about you being in my Biology class?"

"Yeah. I was calling to ask if you knew how to do this assignment about
classifying animals."

"Oh, that. Actually, I did it last night. You need some help?"

"That would be cool. I know this sort of sounds stupid, but I don't think
doing this over the phone would work very well. Could you come here? Or I
can go there."

The pause lengthened noticeably and Shane began to fear he'd set himself up
for a big fall.

The receiver crackled back to life as Robin said, "I'll drive over. I need
to get showered and dressed, though. Can I see you about 10 AM?"

"Sure." Shane gave the house address, then again said his goodbyes.

As he put the handset back onto the hook, he giggled and rubbed his
hands. He couldn't help it; even if Robin turned out to be straight, he was
going to get an eyeful of the guy "up close and personal" for the first
time. He then carefully hid his actual assignment answers and spread out
his Biology textbook and notebook on the kitchen table. He also went to his
room and retrieved the library book _Bad_Boy_ that he'd carefully stashed
between the bed's box spring and mattress; he practically had to lift the
entire thing up, as he'd placed it almost precisely in the middle to keep
it from being discovered by his mother...

10:00 AM

Shane hadn't been this nervous and distracted since his first "date" with a
girl, almost 3 years ago. Nothing had come of that, but it had been the
first time Shane realized something was "wrong" with him. Now, though, he
knew the answer and this "date" hopefully promised more than just going
through the motions of something expected of him. Of course, this was
ostensibly a get-help-on-a-homework-assignment sort of thing, not to
mention a lot of Shane's future plans hinged on what he could find out
about Robin.

He'd managed to wolf down a quick breakfast, barely tasting the cereal as
he had chewed with a frenetic pace. He'd tried pacing around, doing some
deep breathing, but none of that really helped.

A knock at the door completely shattered Shane's reverie and almost sent
him stampeding to the door. Then he realized that it might seem extremely
unusual for the sounds of fast running to carry through the
door. Controlled and steady, he walked to the front door, grasped the
handle and opened it to reveal Robin, wearing khaki shorts and a casual
brown T-shirt, with a knapsack hanging off his shoulder. He grinned and
said "Hi, Robin. Thanks for coming over." Automatically, he reached out to
shake Robin's hand, and went weak in the knees as his hand felt the warmth
radiating from the other's palm. Releasing his hand after the appropriate
interval, he gestured toward the kitchen table and said, "I thought it best
to get started right away."

Robin nodded and said, "I have my books right here as well, and it wasn't a
problem to visit. I'd have ended up doing nothing today anyhow." He fished
around in his knapsack for his notebook and turned to the assignment.

Shane interjected, "Can I get you anything to drink, by the way? I just
realized I'm being a bad host."

Robin grinned and said, "No. Thanks for offering, though. So anyway, you
wanted help with the assignment..."

10:45 AM

Shane nodded in apparent comprehension and said, "Ok, so the answer to the
last classification question is that the avians are unique in having
feathers?"

Robin said, "Yep. That's right! You almost didn't need me, you know. You
seemed to pick it up pretty fast." He reached over and patted Shane on the
shoulder. "Good work."

Shane loved the feeling of Robin's hand on his shoulder, which stayed there
all too briefly. He then inwardly chuckled at how well he'd acted in
"getting it". An Oscar performance this wasn't, but it was a good
runner-up. He said, "Thanks again for the help. I couldn't think of anybody
and then I remembered you, so I looked you up in the phone book."

Robin said, "On second thought, I could use that drink you offered right
now. What do you have?"

Shane opened the fridge. "Let's see. Milk, apple juice, orange juice, Coke
Classic... hmm. Looks like that's it."

"I'll take a Coke, if you don't mind."

Shane grabbed two cans, one for himself and one for Robin. He was still
somewhat nervous, but didn't think Robin would notice. He handed a can to
Robin and popped the top on his own, then took a swig. He then said,
"Hey. I haven't toured you yet. C'mon, I'll show you around." He indicated
the bedrooms, his parents' bathroom, the shared bathroom (which was really
just a shower stall, toilet and sink crammed into a space not much larger
than some closets), and the den which doubled as a family room.

Robin said, "Hmm. Looks kind of small, meaning no offence, that is."

Shane waved that off with a shake of his head and a negative gesture with
his hand. "Don't worry about it. It's not much, and I'm an only child
anyway. Wanna chill out in my room for a bit?"

Robin seemed to weigh something in his head, and then nodded and said, "Why
not, eh? Lead the way."

Shane replied, "Oh no. After you, please." In stepping aside, he rested his
hand on Robin's back for a second as he gestured toward the chair with his
other hand. Was it his imagination, or did Robin shudder just a bit at that
touch? Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

Shane reclined on his bed as Robin sat on the chair, facing him. Robin
looked around and said, "No Bibles?"

"Nope. I'm not a 'believer'. Don't tell my Dad that, though. He'd hit the
roof and maybe the moon before coming back down."

Robin chuckled. "I promise to keep it real quiet." He mimed zipping his
lips and winked.

Shane frowned momentarily. "What made you say that, anyway? I know my dad's
well-known in religious circles here, but he hasn't really been famous or
anything."

"Oh, I... just heard, that's all." Robin looked discomfited and shifted in
the chair. He looked around again, and seemed to take in the room more
closely. He pulled the book _Bad_Boy_ off the desk and idly read the back
cover. He put the book back down and lifted his eyebrow at Shane.

"Yes?"

"'teenage sexuality'? That doesn't sound like just *any* novel." Robin gave
him the hairy eyeball.

Shane grinned, and said, "All right, all right. So I like reading about
people in unusual circumstances. Is that supposed to make me an awful guy?"

"Just seemed interesting, that's all. So you've read it?"

"Partway through. It's really intriguing, actually."

"Mrm. Well now I know what book to read if I'm ever bored." Robin smiled
again, and Shane found himself getting lost in the beauty of Robin's
face. Reflecting over events since Robin's arrival at the doorstep, it
occurred to him that he had seen flashes of moodiness in Robin's eyes. He
wondered why a guy who seemed to have a much better family situation would
have anything wrong with himself.

Shane refocussed on the conversation at hand. "Hey. What do your parents
do?"

"My dad's an insurance agent, actually. My mom occasionally works as a
free-lance accountant. It means she gets to stay home and do 'domestic'
things, but also to do work of her own. She doesn't mind."

Shane wistfully noted, "They seem pretty nice."

"Yeah, they are. They've helped me out a lot recently and I really don't
know what I'd have done without them."

Shane's curiosity could not be restrained. "Mind if I ask why?" He hastened
to add, "But it's OK if you'd rather not say."

"Actually I would like to keep that private, but what makes you ask me
that?"

"My parents don't seem to be that great, honestly. My mom works at a real
estate agency and my dad's the general manager dowm at the pulp mill. So
we're certainly not poor. But they don't seem to know how to interact with
me. I'd be hard-pressed to remember a time when my dad sat down and
actually talked with me. Most of the time I'm expected to shut up and
listen to him pontificate, or answer a direct question from him."
Frustrated, Shane slapped the bed and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. He
abruptly realized he was talking to Robin, and said, "Um, sorry about
that. I didn't mean-"

"It's OK. Really. I get frustrated sometimes, too." There was that
moodiness again in Robin's eyes. Shane's guess about Robin's sexuality
ratcheted up another notch on the 'possibly true' meter.

Shane sighed. "Yeah. So I asked you because I don't know what possible
circumstances would force me to ever actually share anything with my
dad. It's like looking into another world, sometimes, seeing real families
with real people, you know?" He felt like he was fencing,
somehow. No. Shadow-boxing. He thought he knew what his target was, but to
get there, he had to endure a ritual similar to some he'd read about in
Indian bands before they had contacted Europeans; he was forced to go
through the motions laid down by unspoken rules in regard to
self-preservation, just like certain coming-of-age rituals in Indian bands
required the initiate to go through the motions to attain a status which he
already knew would be his if completed properly.

Robin nodded. "Do you ever have to act like you're somebody you're not?
Having to attend church and stuff like that?"

Shane decided to take a gamble. "Yeah. I have to do that every Sunday. But
there are other aspects to the whole acting-like-someone-you're-not thing
that I have to go through as well."

Robin was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

Shane's eyes never left Robin's as he launched into his speech. "I think
you know what I mean. You wake up every morning and you look at yourself in
the mirror and you ask 'Why?' and nobody ever answers.  You dream strange
dreams where people who aren't supposed to be in them show up and touch
your deepest self. You seek your true self, while the whole world tries to
deny you the right to do so."

Robin's eyes betrayed him. They flickered, then blinked. But his voice was
steady. "Maybe I do know what you mean, and maybe I don't. I'd rather not
take a guess as to what it is, though."

Shane was infuriated by this chess game, and stood up. "Goddamnit, stop
playing games! There's a reason why I don't believe in God, and it's not
just because I saw the illogic of religion." Throwing all caution to the
winds, he strode briskly to the den, which had one bookshelf, replete with
religious materials of all kinds. He picked up the Revised Standard Version
of the Bible.

Upon re-entering his room, Shane noted that Robin had stood up with a
puzzled expression on his face. Shane said, "Read the section I tell you
to." He flipped the Bible open to Leviticus, and pointed at Chapter 18,
Verse 22.

Robin's face showed an illumination so profound and shocking at the same
time that Shane feared he'd lost. Lost the biggest gamble of his life. He
steeled himself for the rejection he knew he would face for guessing wrong.

Robin closed the Bible, and placed it on the desk beside _Bad_Boy_. He
asked one simple, probing question that was more of an affirmation. To
Shane, it seemed to come from the end of a long tunnel. "So you're gay?"

Shane weakly nodded. Wrenching at his voice to keep it under control, he
half-spoke, half-sobbed, "Yes. I am. You probably hate me now. Go. I don't
care. Tell everybody at school. Hell, tell my dad." He knew he was making a
spectacle of himself and couldn't be bothered to care.

Robin shook his head no. Shane was too scared and distraught to notice. The
voice in the tunnel spoke again. "Shane, that's not what I'm going to
do. Listen to me." Pause. "I'm gay, too."

Shane's head snapped up as though he'd heard a train coming directly toward
him. "*What*?"

"You heard me, buster." Robin smiled and reached out for Shane's hands,
enclosing them in his own. He could feel Robin's warm hands trembling, and
understood the effort it had taken to express understanding and affection
that way.

Shane shakily breathed a sigh of immense relief. He could only nod to the
bed, indicating he needed to sit down. He released Robin's hands and sat on
the edge of the bed, near the pillows. He looked to his side to find Robin
already sitting beside him.

Robin giggled, and Shane said, "What? What's so funny?"

Robin replied, "I should have figured this out before now. You didn't need
help with that assignment! You just wanted to get me over here so you could
hit on me!" At that point, his eyes twinkled and he started laughing. Shane
joined him, and gasped out, "Yeah. I admit it."

A minute later, Shane soberly remarked, "By the way, I wasn't kidding about
dreams. You... you were in one I had this morning."

"Holy shit! You too!?"

Shane was startled. "What's all that about?"

Robin excitedly related his own dream in rapid-fire speech. "I was in this
room, with one light shining down on me. Then a little bit later, a mirror
materialized in front of me. At first I saw nothing, then you just popped
up in the mirror. I jumped back, surprised. Then I reached out to touch the
mirror, and my hand got warm. I took it away, and the warmth stopped. Then
I reached out again and put my hand through the mirror, and my hand and
part of my arm felt warm! Then I walked up to the mirror, and just as I was
about to walk through it, I woke up."

Shane was flabbergasted. "You're kidding me. What time was it when you woke
up?"

"Um, I remember looking at my clock, it said 5:20 AM."

"No way. This is too unreal." He proceeded to relate his own dream, and
ended with, "...I woke up, and my clock said 5:17 AM."

Robin in turn looked shell-shocked. He cleared his throat, and then said,
"I have a confession to make. You've been in my dreams before, too." He
went on to briefly describe the recurring dream he occasionally had.

The two of them could only begin to fathom the implications of all
this. Shane looked at the clock. It read 12:00. He realized he didn't have
infinite time left, and needed to take the opportunity now. He turned his
head, looking directly into Robin's eyes. He murmured, "You know, ever
since you came over your eyes looked moody every now and then, like you had
the weight of the world on your shoulders. But after I told you I was gay,
that's vanished. All I see is liveliness."

Robin blushed and could not speak.

Shane leaned in closer, so their noses almost touched. "Would it be out of
line for me to ask you for a kiss?" He smiled.

Robin smiled in return, and whispered huskily, "Not at all."

Shane tilted his head somewhat to the right, opening his lips slightly as
they grazed Robin's lips and made contact. Their mouths mutually closed on
each others' lips, as the kiss grew deeper and prolonged. The sensation of
warm wetness over Shane's lips was a new, intoxicating thing, and he
unconsciously began thrusting his tongue out to touch Robin's.

Eventually they had to come up for air, and said "Wow!" at the same time,
then giggled.

Shane hesitantly reached up, and brought his fingers to rest on Robin's
hair. A nod gave all the permission he needed, as he ran his hand through
the luxuriant brown curls. He then stroked Robin's cheek, tracing his
finger along Robin's jawline. A hand on his head made him jerk his finger
away, even as he realized it was just Robin. Robin similarly ran his hand
through Shane's hair, then traced his finger across Shane's forehead and
down his nose, to tap the tip playfully...

----

That ends part 7. Cliffhanger. You hate it, I love it, but don't go away.
Robin's point of view coming right up!