The following is a work of fiction loosely based on real life. Any similarities to anyone are purely coincidental. The story is intended for a mature audience. It may contain profanity and references to gay sex. If this offends you, please leave and find something more suitable to read. The stories are copyrighted, and the author maintains exclusive rights to the story.
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A Marching Band Story Chapter 2
"H-h-hey Jarrod, umm, I thought I would t-t-take you up on that offer to talk. D-d-do you have a few minutes, c-c-can I come in?"
To say I was surprised that Connor came to my door is the understatement of the year. I was completely floored, but as Connor was clearly in a state of distress, I acted on instinct.
"Of course Connor, please, come in", I said, trying my hardest to hide the surprise in my voice and emphasize my sincere concern.
"T-t-thank y-y-you", was all Connor could muster as he shuffled into my room.
At that moment my mind went into overdrive. I had spent the majority of my senior marching band trip to Canada trying to win over the boy of my dreams, and instead of doing so, I struck out hard. But just as I had begun to get over Connor, he shows up at my hotel room door, a hotel room I was staying in by myself I might add, asking me to talk through a problem that had him visibly upset.
There was a literal war going on in my head. I, of course, wanted to help Connor, but I was afraid that I wouldn't be the most objective voice of reason in the world as I had spent the past couple of months fantasizing about fucking the living daylights out of him (or him fucking the living daylights out of me, again, I'm not picky). I wanted to provide Connor with the best support possible, but I had no idea if I could trust my horny teenage self.
But I took one look at Connor and all hesitation was put to rest. He was, well, the best word to describe him would be broken. He held himself as if he had the weight of the whole world on his shoulders. Although the crying had seemed to subside, a gentle stream of tears carved a pathway down his cheek, dropping every so often, just enough to leave a damp spot on the comforter of my bed which he had chosen to sit down on. He was physically shuddering with each breath, a clear sign that his nerves were shot through, and he was whispering to himself, phrases I could only imagine fell short of the assurance he so desperately needed, so desperately craved.
At that moment I decided to put any feelings I had for Connor aside and be the person he needed most, a friend to talk to. As gently as I could, I sat down next to him on my ridiculously soft hotel bed and I tried to look him in the eyes, to truly see his turmoil of emotions.
I hesitated ever so slightly, both afraid and excited by what might happen next. "Obviously something is wrong, and I want you to know that you can tell me as much or as little as you would like. We could sit here in complete silence, only the sound of our breathing filling the room, or I could sit here and listen to you vent, listen to you scream at the top of your lungs. Whatever you need, I am here for y-"
Connor suddenly hugged me, as if holding onto me was the only way he was going to get through this, and simply cried. He wrapped himself up, tangling his body up with mine, and sobbed. And I, well I held him.
I don't know how long we were like that, curled up together in my hotel bed, me holding him and rubbing his back while Connor let his emotions take hold of him. After a while, Connor's emotionally tortured cries died to sorrowful whimpers as I tried to convey my support through the sheer act of holding him tight.
He spoke first, "T-t-thank you, just, thank you. I g-g-guess I just needed someone to h-h-hold me. I'm s-s-sorry if I-"
"Hey, when I said whatever you need, I meant it, so you don't need to apologize. I'm glad I was here to hold you, and I would do it again in a heartbeat". Okay, so maybe keeping my feelings out of this was a little harder than I first thought.
"R-r-really?", Connor asked with a bewildered look of relief on his face.
"Yeah, really", I answered, giving him my most genuine smile.
Curled up together, we sat in silence for a little while longer when Connor again spoke up. "I w- w-want to t-t-talk about w-w-what happened, you know, b-b-before I came here".
"Umm, wow, are you sure?", I definitely did not want to pressure Connor into talking before he was ready, and I thought I had ensured a pressureless environment, "Because you definitely don't need to it you aren't rea-"
"Josh, I'm sure", and I think he surprised both of us with how confident he sounded right then. "Umm, well, I guess I don't really know w-w-where to start".
"Start wherever is most comfortable for you", I offered.
"Well, umm, ever since I was in middle school I knew that I was, umm, different. All of my friends were talking about how this girl had nice tits and that girl had a better ass, but all the while I, well, umm, I didn't necessarily care about any of that stuff. I was much more interested in the guys I changed in the locker room with, what kind of underwear they were wearing, whether it was tight enough to see the outline of their package or baggy enough that I could catch a glimpse of a stray cock, what they looked like shirtless, and if anyone was looking back. guess since then I've known that I'm g-, umm, that I like guys, but I've been in a state of denial about it ever since, well I guess that is until now. For the last couple of months, I've been going crazy, like I needed to tell someone. So I've been working up the courage to tell someone, well, not just someone, I've been working up the courage to tell Kyle".
At the mention of Kyle, Connor became visibly more emotional. He began to shudder again and the familiar sting of tears turned to his face into a grimace. "I finally worked up the courage and planned to tell Kyle during the trip, well, more specifically I worked up the courage to tell him tonight". Now Connor wasn't trying to hide the fact that he was crying. "I went to his room, and I kind of just told him. I don't love him or anything I just wanted my best friend to know, to stop hiding a secret, and you know what he did, he told me to leave, to get out, to give him time to process, like I just didn't do the hardest thing in my entire life, so I ran away like he asked and I didn't know where to go and I ended up here and-"
At this point, you could imagine my heart rate was through the roof. Here was the boy of my greatest fantasies coming out to me as gay. It was like a dream come true. But as with all dreams, reality was not too far behind to put it in check. Connor was coming out as gay, for the second time tonight, and for the first Tim to someone who would accept him, which made him unbelievably vulnerable, too vulnerable for a relationship. He probably hadn't even begun his journey of accepting his sexuality, and I, the first gay guy he comes out to, wants to start a relationship with him? If that doesn't scream unethical, I don't know what does, and I would be constantly questioning myself if Connor fell in love with me, or the idea of me as a first boyfriend. Connor was coming from a place of pain, and I couldn't start a relationship with him in such a state.
"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay, it's okay", I said to him trying to calm him down as I embraced him in a hug for the second time tonight. My mind was racing but I decided to put my problems aside and focus on helping Connor. He began to sob again so I held him tighter, trying to make him feel safe.
After a few minutes passed, he calmed down and I finally figured out what to say. "First off, the fact that you are gay changes nothing about the way I feel about you, if anything, it makes me love you more. I don't know what your family is like or how you grew up, but being gay is not wrong, it just means you love people of the same sex, and you are entitled to love whoever you want. You are not broken, you are not weird, you are not a horrible person, you are gay, and though it may not seem like it now, that is something to be proud of, and I should know because I'm gay too".
Connor's eyes grew wide in amazement. "Wait, you're gay?!? That's... well... that's just... wow".
"Your articulation is something to be admired", I tried to lighten the mood, smiling to hide the pain, "and yes, it is very 'wow', but you just came out to your best friend and didn't get the best reception, and I need you to know that I am here for you, that you are not alone, and that being gay is not the end of the world, but rather just the beginning".
"You're right Josh, this is just the beginning", Connor said while wiping the tears from his eyes with a smile on his face, "this is just the start of the rest of my life".
Connor slowly unwrapped himself from me, all the while looking deep into my eyes. He leaned forward, close enough so that I could smell his familiar cologne mixing with his musky sweat, and then, with his perfectly soft lips, he kissed me.
Hello readers, Jake again!
First off I want to thank all of you who read my first chapter of A Marching Band Story, and I am especially grateful for those readers who sent me kind comments, helpful critiques, and encouraging messages calling for a second chapter.
I also want to apologize for the tardiness of this second chapter. I had planned to upload this chapter exactly one month after the first, but, as it always does, life got in the way. If it weren't for those kind comments I received in feedback for my first chapter, I don't think a second chapter would ever have been written. So again, thank you for your kind words, I truly appreciate them.
If you enjoyed this chapter or have any questions or general comments, feel free to reach out at jakewindigo@gmail.com, I love hearing from readers!
Thanks again,
Jacob Windigo