Date: Sat, 26 Feb 2005 02:57:40 -0600
From: Thomas Rodgers <jasani666@hotmail.com>
Subject: Frozen Part 2

Frozen
(c) 2004-2005 Mychyl Kime (KimeNet Corp.)

	This is a work of fiction, depicting teenage males in romance
and/or sexual positions. The people depicted in this story (to the best of
the author's knowledge) do NOT exist... in the rare case that they're based
on real people, the names HAVE been changed... not so much as to protect the
innocent as to spare the poor people listed within the unnecessary fame this
story might bring to them... not that I'm saying lots of people will read
this, or even people where I've lived, but there's always a slight chance...
And these events are, for the most part, all the imagination of the author,
although I've seen the events depicted many, many times. And by the way, the
places used within do exist, and are easily as evil as depicted herein...

	If you are under 18 years of age (or whatever the legal age in your
area is) you must leave. Of course, I can't very well make you leave... but
if you choose to stay, DON'T GET CAUGHT! It is neither my fault, nor the
fault of this wonderful site, if you get caught running around here.

	Also, if you are repulsed by the concept of homosexual romance
and/or sex, please feel free to leave at any time. In fact, now would be a
good time. But hey, it's your call, of course... I can't make you leave,
either... but if you choose to stay, feel free... who knows, you might even
change your mind! My only question is: why are you here if that's the case?

	This is a new story, "completely independent" of my older work; if
you are interested in that, it's in HighSchool/The_Dance and HighSchool/
Dear_Diary_Series. (As it's been a while since I wrote those, you may need
to enter the addresses manually. Unless you like scrolling for a long time.
Conversely, the Search Page option in IE (dunno about the others) seems to
work nicely as well.) In all reality, while this IS an independent work,
there
may be some references in this story which corollate to the others, and if
you plan on reading all three (so far), you may wish to start with The
Dance.
That way, no spoilers. See?

	Please feel free to email me with your comments/suggestions. My
email is: jasani666@hotmail.com (my old ones were claimed by hostile
takeover, care of a hack/infection). Or, if you'd prefer, you can IM me
on the chance you catch me online (which is off and on, depending on the
time of day and whether or not I'm working, though with the power of cell
mobility, this is changing for you MSN/Yahoo IM junkies...):

	AIM: AvatarSinestre
	MSN: jasani666@hotmail.com
	Y!M: pbw_darkscape
	ICQ: 21009696
	IRC: (irc.nevernet.net:6667 room XYchat last I knew) WyldChylde
	XY!: WyldChylde *chat only now* JasaniAvatar *chat and profile*
	BLOG livejournal.com/users/jasaniavatar

	And now, without further delay:



~*~     Chapter 2     ~*~


School continued, much as it always does. The fact that I even bother to
continue
attending should be good enough for these morons, who are clearly bent on
chaining
my mind to their points of view and their beliefs. Not likely, though they
can
keep trying all they'd like. It's not gonna work.

Long story short, the end of the day rolled around, and I could barely take
three
steps before I'm being pounced on from behind, with enough force given that
I'm
surprised to knock me to the ground.

"Ow!" I yelled, more from surprise than anything, "what the fuck!?"

Before I can move, Tyler leans over my head, his face split in an
upside-down
grin. "Hey, Chris!" he said loudly, pissing me off. EVERYONE called me
Chris,
and I hated it. My first name was Damien... why couldn't people get over it
and call me by it, instead of my middle name? "You ready to go?"

I got up quickly, dumping him unceremoniously to the ground, and dusted
myself
off, pulling myself back into order. The kid was definately gonna be
annoying,
as usual, but since I'd already said yes, I could hardly say no, now could
I? It
wouldn't be right. And while I'm the one who wants to be alone and left
alone,
more than anything, it still wouldn't be right to ignore him after telling
him
we'd hang out. I groaned inwardly and took off, leaving him to try and keep
up,
his shoes slapping audibly against the concrete.

When we got to my house, I was greeted by silence. Remarkable, since I fully
expected someone, anyone, to be home when I got there. Of course, the
silence
lasted MAYBE a full five seconds before Tyler started on about whatever
random
drivel poured out first, setting up my Playstation and clicking a game into
place, switching in one of his memory cards.

Reluctantly, I took my usual chair, leaving him to grab a chair from the
table
in the kitchen to sit in. The game loaded... another stupid fighting game,
as
usual. His obsession with fighting games knew no bounds. I sighed, slouched
in
my seat, and settled in for boredom.

An hour and a couple cigarettes later, the kill count was 8-2, his lead, and
I was about bored, so I reached up and shut off the power to the console.
And
nothing.

At this point, I expected wailing, tears, displeasure, complaining...
nothing.
I looked at him, and strangely, I saw a weird look in his eyes... then he
saw
that I was looking, and quickly glanced away. And I'll be damned, but for an
instant, I thought I saw him flush a bright red.

However, the moment passed, and whatever I'd missed, it wasn't continuing,
since he quickly grabbed the game out of the PS, then went to the kitchen. I
heard the cabinets doors opening and closing quickly, which usually meant he
was looking for snacks, then the fridge opening. With a sigh, I walked over
to the couch and opened my backpack, digging through for my homework. With
him stuffing his face, at least I'd have a chance to get it out of the way
relatively quickly, and when he took off, I could go back to playing games I
actually liked, instead of catering to him and his stupid games.

I heard him walk back into the living room, then stop at the doorway, and I
glanced up. In each hand, he had a plate of chips and sandwiches, and
somehow
he'd managed to balance two bottles of soda between them, like some sort of
magic trick. Surprised, if only a bit, I walked over to him, accepting my
plate and soda and actually thanking him as I walked with it back to the
couch.

"Aww, you don't wanna play anymore?" he asked, almost petulant, as he came
over by me, sitting on the couch instead of in front of the TV.

"No, I need to get my homework done now," I said, in as close to a
dismissive
tone as I could manage at the moment, and purposefully started walking
towards
my bedroom door.

"That's OK, I need to do mine still too... we can play more afterwards." I
could almost SEE the grin on his face, just from the tone of his voice, and
I
realized he'd planned out the entire afternoon, all of it devoted to
torturing
me... but then I remembered the food and soda, and I realized that maybe,
just
maybe, he might not be so difficult to deal with after all. If nothing else,
I
could always have him run to the kitchen...

While on this train of thought, I'd entered my room, letting him inside for
what was probably the first time, and he stopped to stare at the walls...

OK, yea. I said I'm gay, and to anyone who doesn't have their head buried up
their ass, my room proves it. Posters of hot guys plastered all over my
walls,
with the smaller magazine clipping-ones stuck wherever any white showed on
the
walls. The end result was my room now: hot guys, on every wall, watching me,
and me, sleeping under their gazes, wishing that one of them would come
rescue
me from this Hel which was my life right now.

"Wow..." he whispered, almost entranced, and as I turned to look at him, his
eyes were dancing from one guy to the next, as though judging them. Not the
response I was expecting, but I was glad of that... he was almost bearable,
and alienating him with my walls, while fun for a minute, might not prove as
fun later on, when he might tell his mother just how my room was decorated.
She would guess, I figured.

Without further ado, I settled onto my bed, books and binder out before me,
and he sat at my desk right next to the bed, working on his math homework.
Time passed, slowly as it always does when doing homework, but before I
knew it, it was getting too dark in the room to read, and I was reaching for
the lightswitch.

As the light came on, I glanced over at Tyler, confused by his silence...
which is probably only natural, since this was the longest he'd been quiet
since I'd met him... and saw his head down, facing me with his eyes closed.
With a long-suffering sigh, I walked over to him and shook him awake.

"Wake up, kid... it's homework-time, not sleeptime," I chided, not feeling
all that gruff at the moment, and was rewarded when he started stirring.

"Damien... love ya..." he mumbled, as he slowly awoke...

~*~*~*~


Well, there we are, the second chapter! And it only took me forever to do!

Sorry, devoted fans (old and new), but my mind hasn't been well for writing
romantically lately. However, the cracks and tears mend, and I'm ready to
go again, it would seem. ^^

A special thanks, and public humiliation by giving him a shoutout, to TJ,
without whose prodding I likely wouldn't've gotten the spirit to write more.

(And no, all my other fans, your pokings and proddings helped too... but
he's the cutest, plus he pushed hardest and asked most, so he gets special
recognition.)

Hopefully, Chapter 3 should be ready within the next week or so... I've
got a section from it written (or at least I plan on using it in Chapter
3, if there's a good place to put it), and I like it a lot. So, yea.

As always, love than fanmail, like that criticism (as long as it doesn't
go like "you suck"), and those flames... yea... my special email for
flames is flame@microsoft.com. Send it there.

Also, IMs always loved. See above for those addys. Til next time!

~Mychyl