Date: Sat, 24 Mar 2001 12:03:12 -0000
From: Jamie <virus@dial.pipex.com>
Subject: Chris-and-Jamie  Chapter 27

Same stuff - don't read this is u r underage or u don't like reading stories
of love between two boys.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

To all my special friends, without them this story would not have been
possible:

Mysticier, Spacemarine85, jimswim1, PsygnisFive, Dx21685, Kahrlin Ramsus,
jjcool828, and Treyb21677.

And of course to Chris and Ciaran, who gave me the most support any friends
ever could.

This story is dedicated in loving memory to Simon - Homophobia hurts!

------------------------------------------------------------------------


`Well, we're going to Canada tomorrow morning, so I thought you had better
pack some clothes.'

`What!' We both chorused at this, and Eileen and my Mom both exploded in
fits of giggles.

Okay, now this was as weird as you expect life to be. The whole story
finally came out, after a deep probing session by Chris. A few months ago
our parents had decided that for Christmas we would be going to actually see
some snow for once. Since both families could ski reasonably well, they had
decided that a holiday is Whistler, BC would be a great notion. Of course to
us this sounded like heaven on Earth; I just wished that I had heard about
it sooner. The thing was that neither of us had any idea that this was going
to happen. It was completely out of the blue.

They had booked us a fortnight's holiday on the wonderful winter slopes of
Whistler Mountain. This was the ultimate skiing holiday that I could only
dream of -- and even then it would be in my dream's dreams. I had seen
pictures and heard people talk about the place of skiing on silk. The runs,
I heard, were as wide as you could see, with hardly anyone at all on them.
For those who had only been skiing in Europe, lift queues were a thing of
the past. This seemed to be everything I had hoped for at once.

More questions were soon forthcoming from Chris's moist lips. Looking over
at him, I saw that his eyes were dancing with excitement, and the colour had
returned to his cheeks very quickly. He was becoming somehow different to
me, I could see him in a new light. However, I wasn't sure what that new
light was yet.

`So when are we going?'

My Father produced a set of plane tickets from his back pocket and thrust
them across the small coffee table to Chris. After retrieving them, my
boyfriend studied them carefully. His smile lit up like a Christmas tree and
his features all at once became even more happier than they already were,
which is quite an astounding feat. Then my Father began to speak again.

It was said that we would be leaving for Canada tomorrow evening, however
there was only one slight problem with all of this forward planning -- we had
to spend tomorrow in school as well. There were meant to be no arguments,
however, being the relentless young teenagers that we are, someone had to
put up resistance to this. A deep groan emanated from both our mouths,
however I was the first to offer any struggle.

`Moooooooooooooooooooooom?' I said, in one of those long, drawn out
syllables that adolescents believe carry sway with their parents.

She ducked her head, and quickly carried on with marking her student's
papers. This was frustrating; as I could never win any arguments that I had
with my Father. It had been a lifelong ambition of mine to beat him in
something like this. However, the opportunity had never occurred, he was
just too damned good at it. It had become to be as annoying as anything
could possibly get a person.

For the next ten minutes Chris and I both gave up pretty good arguments
against going to school the following morning. However, it was to no avail
and soon the conversation had ended. Well, from our point of view it hadn't,
but the anger flashing across my Father's eyes told me that it would be
wiser if I tried to control my boyfriend.

Looking over at Chris, there was no stopping him at this moment in time. He
had the bit between his teeth and no amount of pleading with him would bring
the argument to a conclusion. Both sides had taken up positions and were
ready to fire. It was just a question of which of them surrendered first.
Would the first one to go be my unstoppable Father, or my gallant boyfriend.
It was hard to tell from this angle. I had seen both of them fight ever
since we had moved in together. Most of them were friendly, and this was no
exception. Of course there would not be any broken hearts over this debate.
Both of them took it as a "who can get one up on the other" kind of an
argument, where only scoring points mattered and not who won at all.

However, I quickly saw who was going to score the most points in this
quick-fire round. My Father was becoming increasingly hotheaded and I didn't
want Chris to make the argument personal -- especially if they were planning
to take us on holiday in the next day or so.

Restraining him from saying anything that he would later regret it was a
task to force him to shut up. One of the questions I have never been able to
answer, not even by Chris, is how to make an American quiet when you want
him to be. Chris says it is just impossible and I am inclined to agree with
him. No amount of kicking him or digging into his sides in a subtle manner
would dissuade my errant charmer from trying to stay off school the next
day.

It was plainly obvious that Eileen and Paul had long ago left the
conversation, and were looking across the room at my parents. My Mother had
her nose buried in one of her medical books and was marking university
papers for students. She seemed to not want to be involved in the conflict
that was taking place. I didn't blame her; no one ever wants to be in a
transatlantic argument.

`Chris, why don't we go upstairs and talk about this in the morning?' I
asked cautiously, knowing what the reply would be.

Sure enough a volley of stern faces flashed my way, and he quickly curbed by
thought to be individual - although as he looked at me, he melted. My Father
could not understand why he gave in so quickly and was bewildered when Chris
got up and kissed them all goodnight, disappearing out of the door. My
Mother was as surprised as anyone, but I was wiser to know what was
happening.

This was mainly because it was I who had slipped my hand down the back of
his boxers and began to stroke the small of his back with my little finger.
I knew that he couldn't resist this and it would have him up the stairs in
no time -- out of the battle situation that was rapidly developing.

I took my leave relatively easily, and without any untoward questioning.
Having risen I crossed to my parents and kissed them both on the forehead.
To Eileen and Paul I bade them a firm goodnight and went to leave the room.
My Father stopped me and began to speak, sotto voce.

`However you control that man of yours, please let me in on the secret.'

I grinned at him and flashed a row of symmetrical white teeth.

`No chance.'

The oak door closed softly behind me, as I vanished from the room and saw
Chris standing in front of me. The hall was empty apart from him and several
suits of armour and I was sure that they offered no resistance to our being
together.

His arms were behind his back, clasped together in a tight ball. With his
head cocked to one side and his left knee bent, he seemed to be wavering
slightly in his stance. The face was unmistakably happy, for even though he
was not pleased about going to school the next day, he still wanted to go to
Canada.

`Jamie?' He offered, and came closer to me.

This was not done quickly, but as slowly as he could manage it. As he took
my hand in his, I felt the warmth travel into my upper arm and hit my brain
like an electrical shock. His eyes fixed in mine, looking so beautiful that
I wished I could have them for my own as long as I walked the face of the
Earth. This was my boyfriend standing before me, the person whom I had loved
ever since I had met him, that wonderful day in early September. His hair
was still as I remembered it -- short with a mixture of mousy blonde and
light brown. I held my hand to that hair and pulled my fingers through its
light angelic touch. It felt uncommonly good to do this, a feeling that has
never left me.

`I think we should take this upstairs.' Chris flashed an evil grin and I
knew exactly what he was up to. However, who was I to refuse my boyfriend of
carnal pleasures -- at 14, he was insatiable.

Moving up the red-carpeted stairs, we finally reached the door to the room
that had been ours for the past year. It is strange to think of your
bedroom, usually so private a feature, to be shared with someone else.
However, this was not any person with whom I shared my bed, it was the
person whom I had loved for the past three years. I trusted Chris with
anything, even my life. His warm touch and delicate sentiments were always
to be found foremost in my mind at anytime. It was for the first time that I
had these thoughts about our room. I could finally resolve everything in my
mind. For I was gay, and nobody could deny that. Even I did not think that I
was truly sure until this moment. Now it has hit me like a heat wave, and it
is not an unpleasant sensation. So what if I'm gay? I have all my limbs
working, I'm not deformed mentally or physically -- there is nothing wrong
with me. I am a normal and sound human being. My sexual attraction does not
mean anything to anyone; in fact it means that I possibly have more courage
than anyone to admit that I am different to myself. For anyone to do this is
no mean feat; it takes guts and that is something that many people think
that homosexuals do not have. This is so far from the truth that they
couldn't be any more wrong if they tried. To admit to yourself, or to
someone else that you are gay takes the most amount of courage in this world
that I have ever seen used.

Chris seemed to break me from my thoughts and prostrate himself on the bed.
I could already see that he wanted something from me tonight. I knew that I
was ready to give him anything.

He lay on his back, with one arm dangling over my shoulder. I knelt in
between his open legs and began to slowly kiss him. As our lips touched the
electricity came again. I pressed my own wet lips against his and felt what
I thought was never imaginable. It was even better than orgasm; it was
togetherness and love. I could feel for the first time that I was one with
my boyfriend. Christopher and I were two people who had come through so much
hate and violence, that to be together now was as much as blessing as it
could ever hope to be. There was no one on this Earth that could love
another soul as we felt that night. Matching it would be difficult and we
both knew that.

Looking into Chris's eyes I could see that he was thinking the same thing as
me. His lust had died down, and was replaced by a passion that I had never
known before to be within him. His eyes seemed to dart about like flies as
he took in every bit of me. As I saw him to this, I saw Chris. Obviously I
do not mean I physically saw him. No, I saw the boy that I had fallen in
love with three years ago. It was as if he had come to life just for me. My
eyes melted into him and I could clearly see for the first time that this
was the boy that I loved. His skin was so perfect and smooth; his eyes were
like sparkling sapphires; his lips, like a river of blood, flowing gently
over his face. There was nothing that I disliked about him.

Of course we had our disagreements, but there was nothing there that I
really hated about Chris. He was, to me, perfection in human form. This can
only be achieved by the love we felt for each other that night. It had taken
us three years to arrive at this stage, where I could finally say it for the
first time. I could actually open my mouth and physically spit out the
words. My whole life seemed to have been building to this moment. I relished
it with everything that I possibly had. My lips parted and I tried to force
out the words. It was so wonderful that I thought I might burst.

`Christopher, I love you.' I couldn't believe it -- I was crying.

---------------------------------------

At the moment this is the end of Chris and Jamie. I hope that I have been
able to write to help those of you who are dealing with feelings like these.
Especially I hope I have been able to help all of those who e-mailed me,
asking for advice.

Remember - just be who you are; no one can stop you.

If u like what u read, mail me - virus@dial.pipex.com

AOL IM: jam0015

C Ya round