A Marching Band Story

By Jacob Windigo

Published on Jan 28, 2022

Gay

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.

Nifty.org is a free site. Nifty depends on your generous donations for support. https://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

************************************************************************** Last time on A Marching Band Story:

The pleasure was dumbfounding, the feeling so right. Connor started to pump faster, harder, and I could feel his orgasm start to soar. Connor let out an impossibly loud moan as I felt him fill me up with his essence, which was just enough to push me over the edge. As I plastered the bedsheets with my cum, Connor began to slow down his thrusts, timing them with every new load shot deep inside of me.

We collapsed, one on top of the other, completely spent emotionally and physically. Connor took off his condom, threw it on the floor somewhere, and curled up beside me. We soon fell into a deep and blissful sleep, our beings forever connected, our lives forever changed.


I woke up having experienced the deepest most peaceful sleep of my life. I was slow to wake, lazily opening my eyes to meet the blissful face of my young lover laying his head on my chest as the realization of all that took place the previous night washed over me. I couldn't help but smile. Our bodies fit together in perfect conformity, every inch of our skin in contact with each other. I wished this moment could have lasted forever as I was sure I could never again experience such joy, at least until the next time Connor and I slept together that is.

I quickly glanced at the clock on the bedstand. It was eight in the morning, which meant we had an hour before we had to load the buses to our parade destination of Calgary. I decided to leave Connor undisturbed for a couple of minutes more, gazing into his innocent features until I had memorized his beautiful face for all eternity.

Gently, I reached down, cupping his cheek with my hand, and kissed Connor with a tenderness only teenage boys in love can muster. He smiled contentedly as his eyelids fluttered open. His gaze met mine, and I knew that I would never ever find anyone more perfect in this life.

Connor yawned before speaking, "Hey."

"Hey", I replied while softly chuckling, "how are you feeling?"

"Hmm, if I had to describe my mood in one word, it would probably be perfect and absolute euphoria."

"That's four words", I responded, placing a quick peck on his unbelievably soft lips, "but I'll let it slide." I paused for a moment, trying to find the right words to say. "I, umm, I don't think I have ever been more happy than I am right now, right here, with you."

Connor's face turned a deep shade of red, taking just as long to respond. "Waking up, looking into your eyes, that was the first time I think I ever felt completely like myself."

I wrapped my boyfriend in the tightest hug, wishing we could meld together into one. "I love you, Connor, and I will never stop loving you."

"Jarrod, I lov--"

At that moment, our two band directors burst into our room, and everything changed.


Most of what happened was a blur. The two adults, seeing us as we were, screamed at us to get dressed and meet them outside of the room as soon as possible. Connor began to shake uncontrollably as he tried to hold back his tears of anxiety and fear. I tried to talk to him, tried to reassure him that everything was going to be okay, but he completely ignored me. Connor got dressed quickly and was out the door in a matter of minutes, leaving me confused and painfully vulnerable.

We met our directors outside the door, and they hastily escorted us into an unused conference room. I tried to catch Connor's eye, but his empty stare never made it off the ground as he took the farthest seat from me. The directors were furious, of course. Sex of any kind was absolutely forbidden on band trips. They continued to yell at us, probably asking how we could do something like this and trying to figure out what drove us to make such a rash and horribly stupid decision, but I wasn't listening. All I could focus on was Connor, his face no longer familiar, but rather a mask devoid of all emotion and unwilling to look back.

The directors soon mentioned that they would have to notify our parents immediately, and that finally broke Connor. He became a heaping mess of undirected sadness and anxiety. His tortured sobs were the most painful sound I have ever heard. The directors stood by, unmoved by the display of emotion, opting to maintain their anger. It was then that I asked how they found out. They simply replied that Connor's roommates reported suspicious activity after following Connor to my room last night.

Connor continued to cry, his spirit crushed. The adult men could only take so much more, and one of them eventually escorted the inconsolable Connor out of the room. Just as Connor was about to let the door shut, he glanced back at me, and his eyes told me I had lost him. Mr. Erickson remained with me, his gaze stern. I asked him what the plan was now, and he told me that Connor and I were no longer allowed to see each other, and that we would be kept from any and all remaining band activities, including that afternoon's parade. I simply nodded, either too stubborn to show my anger and sadness or too devastated to care, I didn't know which.

After several moments of excruciating silence, Mr. Erickson pulled out his phone and dialed my mother's number. She answered right away, of course, afraid that something had happened to me. He explained the situation calmly, and once he was done he handed me the phone.

"Hey mom", I said trying and failing to hide the pain and terror in my voice.

"Jarrod... why didn't you tell me?"

"Mom, I just, I didn't know how you or dad would react, I was just so scared. To be honest, I've only just started to accept it myself."

"Honey, you had to have known that your father and I would love you no matter what, right?"

"Mom, I--", the tears began to flow freely now, "I know you love me no matter what, but that doesn't make coming out any easier."

My mom paused to take a deep breath. "I guess I won't really ever understand how terrifying all of this is for you, but I need you to know that your father and I support you completely, and we love you as you are."

It was my turn to cry uncontrollably. "Is d--d--dad t--t--there?"

"No honey, he's at work, but I texted him as soon as Mr. Erickson explained what happened, and he wanted you to know that he couldn't be prouder to have you as a son. He's coming home right now, so we can all talk after he gets here."

I smiled, the tears continuing to sting my cheeks. "T--t--thanks mom, that's exactly what I needed to hear."

We were both crying now, totally forgetting that Mr. Erickson was even there. "Jarrod, while I cannot condone the fact that you had sex on a school trip, I can be mad about that later. How's the other boy?"

The emptiness I had felt before threatened to take over once more. "I... I think I've lost him, mom, I don't know what to do."

My mom sighed in exasperation. "I know I'm supposed to say that teenage love is not the end-all-be-all and that you'll get over it soon enough, but screw all of that. Based on the way Mr. Erickson described it, it sounds like this Connor is really disoriented right now, and probably needs you more than ever, but he will also need time."

I chuckled, wiping the strain from my eyes. "I thought parents were supposed to stop their kids from making poor decisions, not encourage them."

She laughed too, the familiar warmth clear in her voice. "That's exactly what I am trying to do."


Mr. Erickson soon needed his phone back, and he was clearly confused and probably a little uncomfortable with how my mom handled the news. He took me back to my room, telling me I would be remaining there for the rest of the day. Soon enough, my dad called, and we cried together as a family as I contemplated what being myself at home would look like. My dad pretty much reiterated what my mom said, and agreed that Connor would probably need me, but it was likely that he also needed a lot of space and time.

Once my parents were confident I was okay, they decided to let me have some time to myself. Against my better judgment, I laid myself down in the bed we shared, turning off my phone as the first onslaught of texts from my friends lit up the screen. I breathed in Connor's unmistakable scent, clutched the sheets in my hand, and cried myself to sleep.


I was awoken by a knock on my door, a knock that painfully reminded me of two days ago. I made my way to the door, each step filled with hesitation.

"Hey Jarrod, we need to talk", Connor said with as little emotion as I have ever heard him speak.

I glanced down the hall, noticing Mr. Erickson was a respectful distance away, ready to step in if need be. "Connor, I... what do you want to talk about?"

My young lover took a shaky breath. "They called my mom. They explained everything, and then I talked to her. She's... okay with... you know, but she also thinks I am rushing things. I haven't really given anything else a fair chance, and I'm just so young to decide these things. She wants me to try to be... normal before I do anything like this, so I think it's best if we stop whatever this is."

Gone was the boy I had grown to think of as my soulmate, replaced by the indoctrination of his mother. I didn't know when I had begun to cry, but the familiar sting returning to my cheeks brought me out of my dazed stupor. Tears began to gather in Connor's eyes, but he quickly wiped them away. This boy's strength was amazing, even when it was used against you.

"C--c--con--n--nor, I'm s--s--s--orry you f--f--feel that w--w--way, b--b--but I u--u--understand. If th--th--that's truly w--w--what you want, then I w--w--will respect y--y--your wishes."

I was not making this easy for him, and I knew that. "Jarrod, I--", he choked down his tears, "thank you, for everything."

I took a deep breath to steady myself, as I did not want to fail at these next words. "I love you, Connor, and I will never stop loving you."

Before Connor could change his mind, he turned around and walked away, and it took everything in me to not reach out, take his hand in mine, wrap him in a hug, and never let go.


The next several days I spent alone in my hotel room, each day blending into the next with no clear boundaries. The directors must have come to some sort of understanding, as meals were delivered to my room by the hotel three times a day. By the second or third day, I decided to turn my phone back on. There were about a hundred texts from various members of the band, most of them from my close friends. I also had quite a few missed calls from my parents, and many more texts. Based on the latter, I guessed they also called my directors and had them explain what was going on; their last texts said they would give me some space and wait for me to reach out.

After what felt like an eternity of wallowing in my sadness, I decided that it was time to rejoin society. After spending four days confined to my bed, trying to capture every last bit of a fading memory, I showered, got dressed, and went down to the dining hall to get breakfast. I didn't bother to text my friends, so when I arrived the entire band stopped and stared at me. I quickly glanced at Connor who had apparently rejoined his more traditional friends. He was the only person not looking in my direction, and anxiety almost overwhelmed me. I hurried to take my seat next to my senior friends, and many of them were too stunned to speak.

I took a moment to gather my thoughts. "Hey, I do not want to talk about it, not now, and probably not for a long time, so can we just drop it and move on?"

With that, my table and the rest of the dining hall returned to uneasy conversation, and I was content to regain just a little bit of normalcy as I tried my best to ignore the gaping hole in my heart, knowing the one person who could fill it was just out of reach.


That happened to be our last day at that hotel and our second-to-last day in Canada. I had missed practically the entire second half of the trip, but I really couldn't be bothered. After breakfast, we all went back to our rooms, packed up our things, and loaded the buses. I said goodbye to the room that saw both the happiest moment of my life and the saddest. By some miracle, I didn't see Connor once. I rejoined my friends on Bus 1, and things were okay. They respected my boundaries, of course, and treated me as if nothing happened. I didn't know how much they had figured out and really didn't want to know, and so we all picked up where we left off.

That day was pretty much just bus time as we traveled back towards Minnesota. My friends knew me well enough not to leave me alone with my thoughts, so I was constantly doing something, everything from playing Uno to chatting about college, which somehow seemed less daunting than it did before. We made it to our final hotel in Canada at around 10:00 PM, and I was exhausted. It had been a while since I had socialized with so many people for so long. I met back up with my roommates, and I was thankful not to sleep alone.

Our last breakfast was on our own at the hotel, so I didn't have to see Connor again in an awkward all-band meal. We loaded the buses for the last time and made the journey home.


We didn't make it home until one in the morning, much to the complaint of every high schooler. Once we arrived at the parking lot of St. Kate's High School, it was a mad dash to grab your luggage and instrument. My parents were already there waiting for me, so I rushed as fast as possible, and soon enough we were leaving the trip behind, leaving Connor behind.

At home, my mom and dad gave me a stern talking-to about sex, but then comforted me as the full force of my emotional pain set in. It was like reliving those first couple of days of the aftermath all over again, but this time I had my supportive family to comfort me. It took me about a week to start feeling like myself again, but as the reality of college set in, my find had something else to focus on.

After a couple more weeks, Connor was but a distant, painful memory. I tried not to think about him as it would surely cause me to spiral. I had begun to be excited about college and the opportunity of a fresh start, and I was deep in my planning for the future when I received a call from an unexpected individual.

"Kyle? What's up?"

"Umm, hey, Jarrod, I know you're headed off to college pretty soon, but this is really, really important. I am beyond worried about Connor, and I think you're the only person who can help him".


Hello my beloved readers,

I hope you enjoyed this second-to-last chapter. Yes, that means the next chapter I write will see the conclusion of Connor and Jarrod's story!

This chapter was close to me in many ways. I am sure there are those of you who saw some sort of conflict coming to disrupt the status quo of Jarrod and Connor's relationship, but to be completely honest, I was unsure about what to do at first. There is power in a story that slowly has the love interests come into their own confidence, revealing their love to the world, consequences be damned.

I could see this as a possibility for Connor and Jarrod, but I wanted something with more nuance. When I had the idea to compare how each of their parents would react to their relationship after an abrupt reveal, it just felt right. I had alluded to a strained dynamic between Connor and his mother earlier, and I really wanted to explore that more. I also felt it important to depict coming out in two very different ways. Where Jarrod's family was ultimately supportive, Connor's mother feigned her acceptance while urging her son to make the "normal, sensible, and right" decision.

Thank you so much for all of your support and kindness. Your messages mean more than you could ever know. I am unsure of whether I will continue my writing after this story, this was something I did spontaneously, after all. As always, if you have any questions, comments, concerns, or complaints, do not hesitate to reach out; I love hearing from readers, and your motivation and encouragement keep me writing!

Thanks,

Jake

Next: Chapter 9


Rate this story

Liked this story?

Nifty is entirely volunteer-run and relies on people like you to keep the site running. Please support the Nifty Archive and keep this content available to all!

Donate to The Nifty Archive
Nifty

© 1992, 2024 Nifty Archive. All rights reserved

The Archive

About NiftyLinks❤️Donate