Date: Sun, 29 Sep 2002 13:48:05 +1000
From: Mark Peters <mp_ponyboy@hotmail.com>
Subject: Song For Guy - Part 17

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


Dear Reader:  Once again, thank you to everyone who has written
to me about this story, I hope that you all, both new and old
readers alike, continue to enjoy this tale.



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


Legal Stuff: The following story contains descriptions of
graphic sexual acts. Don't read this story if: You are not 18
or over, OR, if it is illegal to read this type of material
where you live, OR, if you don't want to read about gay/bi
people in love or having sex.

The author retains copyright to this story. Placing this story
on a web site or reproducing this story for distribution without
the author's permission is a violation of that copyright.
If you would like to respond to the story, make suggestions
or other constructive comments or advice may be sent to:
mp_ponyboy@hotmail.com

All e-mails will be answered...


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





A Song For Guy

by

Mark Peters





But first, let's remember where we left off in Part 16...


"Well, ain't this just so fucking cosy," we heard a familiar
voice suddenly say.

I looked up, totally surprised to see Guy staring down at us.

"Hey, you're back?"

"Yeah, but not soon enough apparently."

It was only then that I realised what it was he would be seeing.
Jonathon and me sitting side by side in one cosy booth,
laughing and probably looking as if we were more than just
friends.

"No, Guy, it's not like that. It's not what you're thinking."

"Isn't it? It looks pretty self-explanatory to me!" and with
that he turned on his heels and headed for the door.

"No! Wait!" I called after him, but he just ignored me.

"Shit! Let me up! Quickly!" I said to Jonathon, almost
pushing him out of the way.

I got out and raced after Guy, but by the time I made it out
the door he was nowhere to be found. I looked all around the
car park. I even ran out onto the sidewalk to see if I could
spot him. But he was gone.

"Fuck it!" I almost yelled, kicking a nearby garbage bin as
I did so, which only attracted disapproving looks from the few
people who were outside the restaurant.

"Did you catch him?" Jonathon asked when I finally made it
back inside.

I just shook my head.

"What's wrong?" Ben asked, returning right on cue.

"Guy was here," Jonathon answered.

"Where is he now?" Ben asked innocently.

"Christ only knows," I snapped. "He saw me sitting all cosy
with Jonathon and went right off. Almost ran from the place!"

"Fuckin' idiot," Ben replied. "Didn't you stop him?"

"How could I?"

"So now he thinks. . ."

"Yeah. . . that's exactly what he thinks!"

"Oh shit!"



To be continued......





~ PART SEVENTEEN ~


I stood outside Guy's house, feeling like a total stranger.

It was a house that I had been inside a thousand times
over recent months. It was a house that I already knew
almost as well as my own. But this time it was different.

This time, for the first time in months, I didn't know if
I would be welcome.

I had left Ben and Jonathon at McDonald's, with my head
spinning from what had happened earlier, and worried sick
that Guy would actually refuse to believe that what he had
seen was all totally innocent, and just one big
misunderstanding.

Surely he knew that I loved him. Surely he trusted me enough
not to stray the minute his back was turned.

But how could I be certain of that myself? Unless of course,
I talked to him.

Don't ask me how long I was standing at his front gate for,
because there's no way I would be able to answer that for you.

I remember arriving there, having walked up the hill from
downtown, and I remember placing my hand on the latch of
the gate.

But after that? Not a bloody thing! Except of course
listening to this little voice saying, 'Get in there. Go on.
What sort of a man are you?'

I didn't answer him, whoever he was. I just stood there,
paralysed by a fear that was like nothing else that I had
ever felt before in my entire life. Even singing that song
on stage was a walk in the park, compared to how I was
feeling right now.

After a while I sensed, more than saw, some kids walk past
me. They were talking happily amongst themselves, but as
they passed me I noticed them go silent.

It was just after that when I heard someone say, "What do
you think he's doing?"

I thought that they had actually gone. But when I turned
and saw the three curious faces staring at me from a short
distance away, I finally snapped back to attention and
realised why it was that I was standing here in front of
this house in the middle of the afternoon.

I looked back at the house, with its manicured lawns and
fresh paint, and its large comfortable cane chairs that
were on the front verandah, and finally decided that I had
to know. I had to go in and talk to Guy. I had to make him
understand.

The gate hinge squeaked as I opened it. That was one job
that Guy never seemed to get around to doing for his mother.
I didn't think that now would be a good time to remind him
for her though.

I closed the gate and faced the house once more. All that
stood between Guy and me now was about twenty feet of paved
path, and a solid wooden door, painted in a rich dark green.

"One foot after the other. That's all you have to do," I said
to myself. Then I heard the giggle of one of the three kids.

I took a step.

'OK,' I thought. 'Now it's only seventeen feet.'

Ain't it funny what the mind thinks of at moments like these?

Another step.

'Fourteen feet.'

Another step.

"Eleven feet..... eight feet..... five feet..... two feet.... fuck,
I haven't even reached the steps yet! So much for my
measurements!'

Good thing I didn't want to be an architect, huh?

I walked the final few steps to the stairs, then started
climbing them (and... just in case you were wondering... it was
twenty seven feet from the gate to the first step). The
longest distance to me though, was the few steps from the
edge of the verandah to the front door, which I soon found
myself knocking on, after which I turned away and looked back
at where the three kids had been standing. Apparently they
had seen enough. Thank Christ for that!

It seemed like forever between when I knocked and when I
heard the door open, and much to my surprise it wasn't Guy
that I saw standing there when I turned around, but some
other boy, with red hair and freckles, about a couple of years
younger than I was.

"Yeah?" he asked, with more than a note of annoyance in
his voice.

"Errr... who are you?" I asked.

"I'm Kevin," he answered. "And I could ask the same. And not
to mention, what do you want?"

"I... err... was looking for Guy. I'm Tim, a friend of his,"
I answered.

"He's not here."

"Oh. Do you know when he'll be back?"

Kevin just shrugged.

"Will you tell him I called by then?"

"I suppose."

"Thanks," I replied, then turning on my heels to leave.

"What were you doing at the gate for so long?" he asked me,
causing me to stop in mid-stride.

"N-n-nothing," I answered.

"Huh! Fuckin' long time to spend standing there doing nothing
then," he said as he closed the door between us.

* * * * *

"So, who do you think it was?" Ben asked me when I called
him that night and told him about the red-haired boy at
Guys' house.

"I have absolutely no idea," I answered.

"Did you actually have the right house?"

"Asshole!"

"New boyfriend, maybe?"

"Not likely, I wouldn't think."

I answered that question automatically, without giving it
a split second of thought, but afterwards the cogs certainly
started turning in my mind. Ben had sown a seed of doubt
that I didn't particularly like.

When I disconnected I tried to call Guy again, for about
the one-hundredth time, but all I got was a busy signal,
for about the one-hundredth time.

I put the phone down and was about to give up when it rang,
with my hand still resting on top of it.

I picked it up and said, "Hello."

"I've been trying to call you," a familiar voice said to me.

"I've been trying to call you too," I answered.

"We need to talk."

"That's probably a good idea, but isn't that what we're
doing now?"

"I'm not in the mood for wisecracks at the moment."

"So, just when will you be in the mood then?"

"Maybe never!"

There was a lengthy silence between us.

"Are you OK?" I eventually asked.

"What would you reckon?"

"I wouldn't be asking if I already knew the answer to that
now, would I?"

"Do you want me to hang up?"

"No. Sorry. I guess this whole day has just spun me out."

"You and me both."

"When can we talk? Now?"

"Nah. That's no good."

"Well, I have to work tomorrow. How about you meet me in
the mall at lunch time?"

"Alright then. And just us, OK?"

"Yeah. Of course."

As I put the telephone down I was suddenly filled with this
sense of foreboding, as if I already knew what it was that
Guy was going to tell me.

He was going to tell me it was over, I was sure of it. He
was going to tell me that he had found someone else. He had
found Kevin.

Suddenly, all I wanted to do was cry!

* * * * *

I didn't sleep at all that night. I lay awake for hours,
watching shadows dance across the ceiling of my room.
I tossed and turned and fretted like you wouldn't believe.

After having a shower and getting dressed for work the next
morning, I looked in the mirror and decided that I didn't
like what I saw. The bags under my bloodshot eyes told
all of the story, I thought.

I considered calling in sick, but for starters Mum wouldn't
have bought that, and then there was the fact that I had
to meet Guy anyway!

Eventually I headed out the door and down the street,
choosing to walk to work instead of get a lift with one of
my parents, and only just making it on time.

Ben met me in the staff locker room and propped himself
up against the door while I washed my hands.

"You OK?" he asked.

I just shrugged.

"You look fucking terrible."

"Thanks," I said rather dryly, only just managing to resist
not breaking out in tears.

"Fucking hell, Tim, why didn't you call in sick or something?"

"I was tempted, but..."

"But what?"

"I guess I thought if I kept myself busy it'd take my mind
off things."

"Hmmm..."

"Just what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, mate. Nothing at all. It's just that..."

"Just what?"

"It's just that I'm really feeling for you now, that's all."

For the first time I looked directly at him. I could see
the worry and the concern and the love that was etched into
his features. He really was a good friend to me. The very best
actually, and all I wanted to do was hug him, and cry on his
shoulder, and have him tell me that everything would be
alright.

I couldn't do that though. Things were fucked up enough as
it were.

"Have you spoken to him yet?" he asked.

I simply nodded.

"And?"

"He rang just after I hung up from talking to you last night.
He just said that we need to talk."

"Fuck!"

"What?"

"Nothing, mate. It could be about anything really."

"Yeah, I suppose."

"Did you ask him who this Kevin guy is?"

I shook my head. "Didn't get the chance to. I suppose he'll
tell me at lunch time though."

"Yeah, I suppose so."

Someone came into the room just after that, and so we headed
out into the stockroom where our work awaited us. Nothing
much else was said between us that morning, but judging by
the mistakes we were both making, it was easy enough to see
that our minds were elsewhere.

When we had both finished at lunch time, I said good bye to
Ben, wanting to leave the store as quickly as I could.

"Good luck, mate," he called out to me.

"Thanks, mate," I replied, and then left.

* * * * *

Guy was so engrossed in the handle of his coffee cup when
I spotted him sitting alone at a table in the mall, that he
didn't even notice me approach. It wasn't until I had actually
sat down opposite him that he even looked up.

"Hi," I said to him as I sat down.

"Hi."

An uncomfortable silence stretched out between us, but I
was saved from too much embarrassment when a waiter approached
our table and asked if I wanted to order anything.

"A cappuccino, thanks," I answered, without taking my eyes
off Guy.

"Sure thing," he replied and then was gone.

"How was the city?" I finally asked Guy, not wanting this
agony to go on for any longer than it had to.

"OK I suppose. No need to ask you what it was like up here
though, is there?"

"That was uncalled for, Guy."

"Was it?"

All this time, I don't think he even looked at me once,
preferring instead to continue gazing at, and fidgeting with,
the handle of his cup.

"If you'd have cared to stay for about another thirty seconds
yesterday," I snapped, "you would have seen Ben, and you
could have asked HIM what was going on!"

This finally got his attention and he looked up at me,
although somewhat warily.

Fuck it, I thought! If I was going to get shot down in flames
here, then I was going to go down with all guns blazing! I'd
been thinking all morning about what I wanted to say to him,
and here was my opportunity!

"Yeah, that's right," I said to him. "And if you'd done that,
then maybe I wouldn't have had to run outside after you
yesterday, stub my toe on a fucking garbage can when I kicked
it, and then walk all the way up to your fucking house to try
and talk to you about it, only to find your new boyfriend
there!"

I noticed his eyes widen, which was quickly followed by the
corners of his mouth slowly curving up into the beginning of
a grin, which I didn't particularly like the look of.

He looked at me for what seemed like a long time, still with
that grin on his face, which only served to make me more
nervous!

"What's so fucking funny?" I asked him.

"Is that what you actually thought?"

"What else was I to think?"

He sat back in his chair and rubbed his tired looking face
with both hands, then crossed his arms, put his elbows on
the edge of the table and leant forward.

"I'm sorry ,Tim. I really am. It seems we've both jumped to
the wrong conclusions here, without bothering to get hold of
the facts first."

"What do you mean?" I asked cautiously.

"When I saw you there with Jonathon, and no Ben around
anywhere, I just automatically assumed that you and he
were. . . well, you know!"

"And?"

"And if you'd bothered to ask about Kevin when we spoke
last night, I could have told you that he's my new brother."

"HE'S YOUR WHAT?" I almost yelled at him.

"Well, step-brother really. I did tell you about Mum and
her new boyfriend, didn't I? Well, Kevin is one of two new
additions to the family. And he's a sixteen year old,
obnoxious, homophobic slob!"

It was my turn to grin now.

"So, you didn't spend all your time in the city playing up
and forgetting about me then?"

"No, mate, I couldn't do that. I could never do that. But
after having that jabbering idiot chew my ear all the way
home yesterday, all I wanted was to see a familiar face, and
hold close to me someone who I loved. What I saw though, well,
it sort of gutted me."

"Oh God," I replied. "I'm so sorry."

Just then the waiter came and placed my coffee in front
of me.

"No, Tim, you don't have anything to be sorry for. I was
the idiot who started it all," Guy said once the waiter
had left us.

"So, what now?" I asked.

"How about we finish our coffees and then go for a walk?"
he said.

I wanted so badly to kiss him right now. But I knew that
that would have to wait until later.

* * * * *

We walked and talked for hours that afternoon, without
really knowing what we were doing or where it was that
we were going.

He told me all about the Christmas that he had spent with
his father, then about meeting Kevin for the first time,
and about the trip home with Kevin and his mother.

Apparently Kevin's father was still tidying up loose ends
back where they had been living and would be arriving here
soon. Guy, it seemed, had been nominated as chief babysitter,
but had ditched Kevin the first chance that he'd had this
morning.

Somehow we ended up at Guy's place once again, which, after
a quick check, we thankfully found to be deserted. No sign
of Kevin. No sign of Guy's mother.

"Do you feel like a drink?" Guy asked me when we got back
into the kitchen after our quick scout of the building.

"Sure. Why not?" I replied.

He walked across to the refrigerator and opened the door.
I noticed him frowning.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"We don't have any Coke or anything," he said, then reached
down and picked up a carton of milk from off the door, holding
it up for me to see. "How about a milk shake?"

"Sure. Anything," I answered.

I watched him as he got the machine out of the cupboard for
mixing up the milk shake, complete with those silver metal
canisters, just like they use in the real Milk Bars down town.
Then came the ice cream from the freezer, and the flavouring
from the cupboard.

It looked like he was an expert at this and I was enjoying
watching him work.

"What are you looking at?" he asked, when he glanced at me
and noticed me grinning at him.

"I'm not sure," I replied cheekily. "Guess I'm just not
used to seeing you all domesticated like this!"

"Very fucking funny," he commented, then held up the bottles
of flavouring so that I could see them. "Chocolate or
Strawberry?"

"Chocolate, thanks."

He nodded, then poured the flavouring into the container,
added the milk and then stuck the container onto the machine
and pressed the 'on' button.

When he had finished he found a packet of straws in one of
the drawers near the sink and fished a couple out, putting
both of them in the same cup.

"Here you go," he said. "Come get it."

"Oh, it's like this then, is it?" I said to him, as I got up
and walked toward him, grinning.

"Yeah, why not?"

I just shrugged and walked up to him, standing directly in
front of him. He was holding the container between us and I
placed one hand over his, with some fingers touching the
cold hard anodised metal of the milk shake container, while
others were touching his warm soft hands.

Looking into his eyes I could see something that had been
missing for the past few days. There was a mischievous glint
in there, but there was also love. My Guy was back.

"What are you grinning at?" he asked me, while somehow still
managing to suck on his straw, with our faces barely inches
from each other.

"Only you," I answered, with the straw still hanging from
the corner of my mouth.

All of a sudden, he gave a little snort, then started
coughing and spluttering and laughing all at the same time.
Amongst all this he must have managed to get some milkshake
up his nose and he burst out laughing, spitting the milkshake
right into my face.

I coughed and spluttered myself, and between us we managed
to drop the milkshake container onto the floor. It was almost
in slow motion as we both watched in horror at the container
falling. It hit the tile floor with a clang, splashing us
both with chocolate milk, and with the remaining contents
spilling out over the floor tiles.

Guy looked at me, and I looked at him, then we both burst
out laughing.

At exactly the same time we both leant down to pick up the
container, but managed only to bump our heads together in
the process, which was followed by more laughter, but then,
as we stepped back and started to straighten up, Guy slipped
on the wet floor.

Instinctively I reached out for him, but I was too late.
He overbalanced, grabbed my arm, and sent the pair of us
to the floor.

Luckily, I landed face down on top of him, looking into his
beautiful eyes. We were both giggling like a couple of
primary school kids. He started to struggle and try to get
up, but I had him pinned.

There we were, on the floor of his kitchen, drenched in
milkshake, and gazing into each other's eyes.

The giggling and the laughter quickly subsided though. This
whole scene felt so surreal. God, this felt crazy!

What else could I do? I leant down and kissed him. And he
kissed me back.

It wasn't our first kiss. But all of a sudden it felt like
it was. It felt like we were two young lovers discovering
each other for the very first time.

Slowly, he rolled me over onto my back and kissed me some
more, then with his nimble fingers he started to undo the
buttons of my shirt.

This was perhaps becoming one of the best, most amazing
moments of my life.

Yeah. My Guy was definitely back!


To be continued......



Your comments are most welcome.
Please email me at mp_ponyboy@hotmail.com

Or you can visit my website:  www.ozziewebs.com/ponyboysplace/

(c) Mark Peters 2002. All rights reserved