Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction, I was 18 or older when it was written and this is only intended for those who are 18 or older themselves. The story involves situations, both sexual and non-sexual, that involve homosexual relationships. Some characters involved in said relationships are under the age of 18 (in their High School years). If such material offends you, if it is illegal for you to view such material because of where you live and/or because of your age please leave now. All rights to this story belong to Dean Star, do not reproduce or re-use (with the exception of personal use) without prior written permission.
Note: This story is out of two perspectives: a closeted jock that hates the idea he is gay and a nerdy kid who accepts he is gay but hates how people treat him because he is gay. It is a work in progress, both will struggle with their feelings and it might take some time for them to get to the point that they are comfortable 100% with who they are, this will not be a jerk off flick from chapter 1. More of a character study into two sides of dealing with your sexuality. It will get dark, especially for the jock character, not for the faint of heart. Words like fag/faggot, homo, etc will be used in a derogatory manner for the sake of the story.
Edit: I re-submitted this in txt form since the one in html was hard to read for everyone. Also I need to say thank you to "The Truth" who emailed me and pointed out many of my mistakes, hopefully I got most of them!
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His story isn't one of those prissy stories where you end up with the person of your dreams one random day where the two of you meet in the hall at school, your feelings suddenly overwhelming them to the point that you must confess your love for one another. Shit like that doesn't happen in real life, real life is a lot darker and messier. He never understood those stories online where two people meet up and just get each other, they know the other is gay and the both of them are willing to sacrifice everything for each other.
Where the fuck was his prince charming to make everything better?
Did that happen to the author of those stories? Was he the only one struggling with his feelings beyond the ten seconds the kids do in their stories? How come it had to be so bad for him when it seemed like everyone else got their happy ending in high school, followed by their steamy sex scenes where they have the most intense orgasm in their life the first time a dick was shoved up their ass?
Where was his new kid from California that brought him out and protected him from all the pain he would endure if anyone EVER found out about his homo feelings? Where was his big athlete with shining eyes that was struggling with his own sexuality but as soon as the two of them looked into the other's eyes they just knew everything would be alright? It looked like there would be no happy endings for Cole Yaxley.
No, no homo thoughts like that today, Cole. He thinks to himself as he stands against his locker, the rest of the school moving about the halls as if he didn't even exist. His eyes dart from side to side as people walk past him, did they know? Did he give off any signs that gave away those dark thoughts that are ruining his life? Why him, of all people, why did he have to be a pervert who wanted to touch other boys? Why was he the fucking school faggot?
"Yo Cole over here!" A group of his buddies call out, their cat calls at two of the cheerleaders walking past them cruel, immature. Both girls giggle at the groups words; hotty, babe, nice rack, love them legs! He could tell their giggles were fake, a defense mechanism, he knew their discomfort and could see it in the back of their glassy doe eyes. He could see it on their faces, the same discomfort he would feel if anyone else found out about the thoughts he let creep out of the dark side of his brain, the side he went to so many times in his life that now it was a part of him he could no longer ignore.
No, he would have it worse then cat calls from a bunch of horny teenagers. His friends were homophobic at best, calling anyone not on the team a faggot. Cole prayed late at night that no one would ever find out about him otherwise he knew the people he called friends would do a lot worse then what they were doing to the two girls.
He approaches his friends, hands in his pockets and head down to the floor. Cole turns his head unintuitively towards the girls, their smiles flash at him fake and vindictive, the entire exchange vulgar and unappealing to him. He looks at the girl's round tits and tight ass, too many curves and too soft, too sweet. Cole could find nothing appealing about them at all. He could never understand the attraction to something so frail and breakable.
His buddy Max, tall with skin the color of dark chocolate, captain of the football team and most popular guy in school, self proclaimed "fag killer" throws his arm around Cole's back. The feel of his muscled arm over his shoulder was strong, thick, hard and salty. Cole shifts his hands to hide his growing erection, his mind verbally chastising himself for his uncontrollable physical reaction.
"Nice tits, shitty ass." Cole says robotically, head nodding to the cheerleaders, bile rising up from his stomach at the thought of even looking at the two of them again.
Max snorts in response, "Yeah I know these white girls never have an ass. Too bad we have no colored girls to show them up!" He hits Cole in the shoulder; Cole never understood why guys did it. It hurt, was it a show off of his machismo? "I never knew you to be an ass man."
Cole smiles, if only he knew, then frowns at his thoughts. "Takes one to know one you fag." The word slipped out so easily, too easily. Every time he said the word it was like a fire to his brain that threatened to consume him. As if saying the word made him a faggot, made him a disgusting pervert who wanted to fuck around and blow any guy with a dick. Only it wasn't the word but the thoughts in his head that made him one and that dark place those thoughts came from was uncontrollable, even the fire in his brain was afraid to get near it.
"Fuck you!" Max laughed.
"Not tonight hon." He mocks, the bile in his stomach turning to stone. Max hits him on the arm again in the same spot, the muscle begins to throb and Cole thinks that it is going to be another bruise to add to the impressive collection already on his body.
Cole's eyes suddenly become frozen, he has to hold them still because they wonder any time Benji Harrington walks past him. The boy is fit like a soccer star but doesn't play any games. In fact he is one of three students in their grade that isn't on an activity, the other two being the biggest stoners in school. No one knew why Benji Harrington never joined a single school activity
Benji wasn't a stoner, he was a loner. One of those kids no one really talked to, a total mystery to everyone in school.
The problem with Benji was the way he made Cole feel, the racing heart and the bated breath. He was basically fucking panting like a dog whenever the boy walked by.
Benji was one of those boys you couldn't pick out a particular outstanding characteristic, most would consider his looks so-so, common. He was tall and lithe, his upper body like a swimmer's build but his legs always looked so skinny to Cole. Benji's hair was always amiss with small brown curls, as were his baggy clothes: t-shirts with graphic sayings or characters, jeans that hugged his waist yet baggy at his feet. The one thing he seemed to splurge on were his sneakers, Cole believed he never saw Benji wear the same shoe twice His face soft with a Romanesque, pointed nose and eyes that always looked glassy over his hazel iris. Knowing eyes, eyes Cole always thought were looking at him and judging him when others just let his antics slide.
Worse was his personality, Benji was a nice guy who would go out of his way to help you even if he didn't like you. Cole never understood why Silas, Benji's older brother outed him in the middle of the cafeteria in such a horrible way. Cole was scared that his past association with Benji would equate into him being a flamer as well. Luckily being on the football team and being best buds with Max, who has slept with over thirty girls in school, was enough that the past association never even came up.
Most of the time Cole didn't have a clean shirt to put on so he just threw on his sports jacket and sweat through most of the day when he didn't have any clean shirts to wear.
Fuck, Cole screams in his head realizing he was looking again at the boy as he walked past him, looking at that perfectly round bubble butt. No, no fag thoughts Cole! None of that, you're not one of those sick freaks! You will not look at that little homo ever again! Never!
Look at what life turned him into, a sick homo looking at other boys in the hall like they were a piece of meat. Like all they were to him was a sex toy, something to get him off at night instead of his left hand and some spit. He was so disgusted in his feelings he would always wank himself until it hurt, punishing himself for those fairy feelings they put into his head. It was their entire fault, if it never happened he wouldn't be a homo. If it never happened he wouldn't want to walk over to Benji Harrington, pin him to the lockers, smell that cologne he wore that got his dick rock hard and shove his tongue down the other boy's throat. Want to have sex with him, want to hold his hand, want to date the fucking guy and make fucking homo love with him.
No, this was their fault and this was Benji's fault. Benji was a homo, the whole school knew. His own brother hated the fag enough to out him in the middle of the school two years ago. The kid was so horrified he didn't deny it, how could you when it was announced by family in the middle of the cafeteria?
No, it was Benji's fault for being a perverted homo himself. If Cole never knew he was gay then he would never have these feelings.
It was their fault, it was Benji's fault.
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His story isn't one of those prissy stories where you end up with the person of your dreams one random day where the two of you meet in the hall at school, your feelings suddenly overwhelming them to the point that you must confess your love for one another. Shit like that doesn't happen in real life, real life is a lot darker and messier. He never understood those stories online where two people meet up and just get each other, they know the other is gay and the both of them are willing to sacrifice everything for each other.
Where the fuck was his prince charming to make everything better?
Benji was the school queer the day his brother stood in the middle of the school cafeteria, jumping on top of the table to announce to the world "my brother Ben is a cock sucking faggot!"
The funny thing was Benji wasn't even in the room and wouldn't hear about it until two periods later when his best friend Adam told him to fuck off and call him a queer.
Benji couldn't figure out how his brother knew, Benji never even admitted it out loud that he was gay. The word was too damaging, too heavy of a word to say out loud and not expect it to land on the ground for everyone to see.
Somehow Silas knew and decided that he hated his brother enough to tell the rest of the world. His parents would sit him down after that to talk to him about his choices, he tried to lie and say he wasn't gay and when he failed at that he said he was just confused. That seemed to warm them over a little.
Til this day, two year later he hasn't had a single conversation with his father while his mother simply no longer talked to anyone, she locked herself up in her room and the mother he once knew never really came out of it. Even though Benji doesn't live in the main house he knows his parents haven't been sleeping in the same bed or room since his outing.
Benji walks out of third period with his head down and eyes alert, darting back and forth as he maneuvered through the hall full of kids. It was like a stampede, the crowd always moved against you no matter what way you were going.
Maneuvering around the pride of jocks at the T-intersection he was relieved when their attentions were on two cheerleaders, Merissa and Melinda, sisters, walking down the hall.
M & M, as they liked to call themselves, were friends with Benji. They were the only two that stayed friends with Benji his entire life. Right now, besides online friends, they were the only two people in his life that still spoke to him.
Cole was giving him that odd look of anger and sadness he always gave Benji. He could never understand the look; as if he somehow physically hurt the big jock and at the same time broke his heart. He couldn't even figure out why the big guy even knew he existed since both he and Max decided they no longer wanted to be friends after seventh grade. Their loss for both his family, Max and especially Cole.
The only problem was Cole with his bright green puppy dog eyes that always looked at Benji with conflicting feelings dancing behind his eyes. Plus Benji really found Cole attractive in a way he couldn't put into words. Physically Cole was almost a perfection, his only flaw that he was shorter then almost all the guys in his grade. Cole had a strong jaw line that looked threatening but the color of his eyes made his face bright, inviting. When they were still friends people always approached Cole in a friendly matter, especially if they saw his kind smile. The vanity in Benji appreciated the muscles Benji kept up with and the small waist, he would give an arm and a leg to see his taunt bubble butt in the locker room but Cole always had shorts or a t-shirt on, even when they went swimming. Benji wondered if anyone else noticed him wearing the clothes and wondered if they were as curious about the habit as he was.
Benji knew that Cole was a nice guy deep down even if he couldn't understand the odd looks or why Cole no longer wanted to be his friend. No one really picked on Benji most of the school and his family just ignored his existence. The few times someone tempted to mess with him when Cole was around he would help Benji, then give him that angry yet sad look as if it were all his fault.
Defiant to not look defeated by Cole's odd look he made his way past the jocks and into English class. Just two more years. He thought to himself as he took his seat. Two more years and I am out of this place. No more small minded yokels, hello big city where no one cares who or what you are.
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School let out at 3:25 pm, the front doors opened and the underclassmen all ran out with their arms waving in their temporary freedom. Cole had a hard time hiding the smile on his face against their antics, he wished that he still had that feeling when he left school. That feeling died in the second grade.
Cole walks with his hands in his coat pocket, the air cold without an undershirt on. The buses are all evenly lined and quickly he jumps on number 7 and takes his seat in the back. No one takes a single seat near him, a perimeter of four empty seats on both side begin to form. Cole rolls his eyes and Benji gets on the bus and sits four seats in front of him.
Cole cusses at the thoughts that begin to whirl around in his head, the fantasies of Benji coming back and fucking him in the back of the bus while all the boys watch (somehow the girls did not get on the bus that day). That when they get to Cole's stop both he and Benji would get off holding hands and walk to his house proudly.
"Fuck!" He yelled, everyone on the bus cringing with the exception of Benji who just sat there with earbuds in his ears and eyes in his book.
Scowling, howling, brows furrowing he stands and marches up three seats to yank the cord out of Benji's ear. Benji winces, Cole could see the pain on his face and see he is about to mouth off until he sees Cole standing in front of him.
:"What Cole?" He barks, his voice smooth like candy and just as sweet.
"What's up?" No, Cole thought, it sounds like he is interested and not picking on him enough. "...fag?" He adds for good measure, his gut bursts in shame.
He watches and Benji rolls his eyes, "I'm not interested in your brand of crazy today Cole, go pick on someone else." And he notices Benji cannot even look him in the eye, was he that much of a monster? Was his father right?
Cole clenches his fist just as the bus stops, the driver looking at him through the mirror knowingly. "It's your stop, son." The old man calls out.
Giving Benji one last look of anger Cole turns on his heel to exit the bus and turns to watch it drive off. He sees through the back window that Benji stands up to take a seat at the back of the bus where he was sitting just moments before.
He smiled as he thought, Maybe the fag does like me, maybe he is sniffing the seat and jerking off thinking about me while on the bus. Cole laughs at the thought and then is instantly disgusted with himself enough to spit the saliva out of his mouth. He couldn't will himself enough to swallow it.
Cole's house isn't much, a rancher with three bedrooms and a nice porch out front with old wooden furniture Cole's grandfather gave them when they moved into the place. In the summer Cole takes good care of the front yard, his father takes care of the sandlot out back which usually consists of him yelling at Cole to pull the weeds up when they get too bad. If Cole was able to feel shame he would feel it for the way his back yard looked.
From the outside Cole looks and sees a normal house, one that looks like every house up and down the street.
When Cole finally approaches the house, each step heavier then the next, and opens the front door he is assaulted by the peeling paint on the walls and the couches with moth holes and hundreds of stains, almost a rainbow of color.
Cole knew each stain; the bid red one was when his father first hit him as a child and he bled out all over the couch. The yellow stain on the shoulder was when his brother hit him in the gut hard enough hat he threw up his lunch all over the couch and was forced to clean it up.
A car door slammed out front causing Cole to break his concentration, he could see the yellow electrical truck out front and knew his father was walking to the front door. When it opened there wasn't a sign that Cole came home that afternoon. His father would walk into the kitchen and drink himself asleep. Cole would come home after dark to find his father asleep on the rainbow couch.
In the morning he would be gone until his father woke up.
No, Cole didn't live the easy life, he lived a life Pain. Both on the inside and on the out.
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After Cole got off the bus Benji took his seat in the back so he didn't have to see all of the kids talking about his confrontation with the bully.
No longer able to concentrate on his book Benji flings it into his bag and looks out the window the rest of the bus ride home. Why is Cole being such a dick? We used to be friends.
Memories of all the times he and Cole spent time together before middle school came back to him; the week they had off of school because of the big snow storm. The two of them the only kids brave enough to escape their warm houses to build a roofless igloo.
The time that the two if them snuck into the woods, both of them frightened that they were lost and wouldn't be able to find their way out. Benji ended up being he brave one that day but never pointed it out to Cole out of respect.
Now the two of them haven't spoken in years yet he could still feel that closeness that he felt with Cole when they were kids. Why did he still want to get close to someone that clearly hated him?
The bus shifted to a halt outside one of the biggest houses in town, the envy of most of the residents. The house was really modern, by a small man-made lake with croaking toads and fish swimming in its waters. The house itself was odd looking, as if ten large squares of varying height were just dropped one after the other, touching on their sides.
Benji hated the look the kids gave him as he walked off the bus, his head hung down in shame. Ashamed the way even the bus driver was envious of him. Ashamed that he had to punch in a key code in order to just get past the front gate. Ashamed that he did not walk into the house but around it and into a smaller guest house in the back, far enough away that you could barely see the other when the trees grew their leaves back in the spring. A particularly large oak tree blocking most of the view.
Benji hadn't lived in the main house since his outing both to his parents request and his own wishes. Even after his brother left last year for college he chose to stay in this little off shoot of the house. It provided everything he needed and his parents gave him three hundred dollars a week for food and necessities.
It was every kids dream, their own place far enough away form the house that as long as the blinds were drawn you could do whatever you wanted.
Benji moved slowly through his living room, tossing his bag and jacket on the couch. As he walked down the small hall he kicked off his shoes, in the bathroom his pants and shirt were tossed on the floor and into the bath tub. In his bedroom he carefully took off his underwear and crumbled them into a ball before depositing them into the wash.
He spent the night in his bed, the cover drawn up to his chin. It was day fifty three since he had seen his parents, the only reason he knew they still existed was the car out front coming and going; the deposits of cash into his account. The lights going on and off at night and the dinner parties they would have with their friends, their blinds closed in case anyone were to ask who was staying in their guest house.
No, Benji didn't live the easy life, he lived a life alone. Both at school and at home.
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Author's note: Let me know if you liked this that way I know if I should continue it or not. Email: deanstar@comcast.net . I have half of chapter 2 completed so it will be available soon!
Thanks for reading!