From the Heart of a Little Guy

By Just Jake

Published on Jun 11, 2004

Gay

This story is a work of fiction and any resemblances to any person or written works are purely coincidental. The author retains all rights to the work, and requests that in any use of this material that my rights are respected. Please do not copy or use this story in any manner without my permission. It does contain consensual sex between young men. You've found this site like the rest of us so the assumption is that material of this nature does not offend you. If it does, or it is illegal for you to view this content for whatever the reason please just keep on passing by.

Please read of your own free will, and direct any positive comments, constructive criticism or general feedback to: mission_hockey_4_life@hotmail.com.


Jon had just stepped inside the front landing of the house, three steps down from the main floor but with a view straight down the very hallway that I had go through to get down and across to my room. The problem was that I was concealing a raging woody and trying to avoid him seeing it as I scooted across the hall and into my room.

With just a towel around my waist, I offered, "Just let yourself in 'kay? Kick off your shoes and grab a seat on the couch and I'll be right out 'kay?"

Not taking the bait and thereby giving me a clear path to my room out of his eyesight, he said, "Nah man. I'm not real comfortable with that. I'll just wait here till you're like ready." (This is the first time it dawned on me that at times Jon sounded a lot like Butters on South Park; not the voice, but the ever- present hesitation in it.)

But what now.? So I explain, "Uh, I just had a shower and I gotta get dressed, 'kay?"

"That's cool. Take your time."

So I felt too self conscious to ask him to turn around in case he was looking down the hall, even though he had asked me to turn away in the bathroom at Micheal's. But I had an internal dilemma because I get woodies in the shower a lot and was sporting a good one at that time. Wishing I at least had a bundle of clothes in my hands in front of me I wrapped the towel as tight as I could, bunching it in front, and raced out of the bathroom and down the hall and into my room. I slipped with my wet feet on the hardwood floor and almost wiped out, but made it.

Trying to be casual and cool I put on my Adidas tear-aways and my Dad's old Warren Moon Houston Oilers jersey. Still, I did put on my only pair of Calvin's because if I had a chance that Jon would see my gitch I wanted them to be my Calvin Klein boxer briefs. My hair is naturally a bit curly, however I normally spike and mess up my sandy blonde mop so that it looks cool. But as it dried I let it fall flat and curl as it wished instead. No socks, because I could still get away without smelly shoes from going barefoot in them and preferred it to socks.

I didn't tidy up the pile of football equipment, it was strewn about the middle of the floor in my room. So as casually dressed as I could try to be, walking down the hall I invited Jon in and offered him a soda. We sat down on the couch, sorta half facing each other but still sorta avoiding actual eye contact.

As we were sitting Jon immediately burst, "Daniel, I have to say it now cause I won't say it if I make myself wait anymore. I think I'm gay."

(Obviously I had guessed this and hoped for it sooo badly, and totally figured this out when I woke that night with his hand on me. But then I found reasons and explanations to satisfy myself incase it wasn't really the case and I had just been overly hopeful. Yet the important question was what to say and do now. I had a hard time thinking of what was right to say to Jon, like that's cool' or 'kay', or `I think I am too'. In the end the easy way out was the obvious one; just keep in self denial and all will be well with the world! So I just sorta stared at him I guess rather than vocalize what I felt inside. If you don't put words to thoughts, and don't say those words, then those words can't come back to bite you in the ass I guess.)

After a long silence Jon got up, trying to be strong he quietly said, "I'll leave now. I see I've made another mistake." I'm not sure if that was said for me or himself. He was getting real choked up now, trying to find his voice. Speaking louder, shaking, voice cracking, he added, "I've really put you in a bad position, you know, I'm sorry. It's just, I thought, you know." His voice failed him.

I instinctively got up with him and walked to the door with him. It wasn't my conscious intention, I just found myself doing it. As he was picking up his shoes I finally broke my trance, broke my silence. "Wait Jon, don't go," I pleaded.

Looking away because he was full-on crying at this point he rambled, "Yeah right! Humor the fag! No, I think I've totally made an ass of myself and just revealed myself to a guy that I thought was different enough that I could at least share my secret with and maybe still be my friend. You're a real nice guy you know Daniel, not like all the jerks. You didn't mention the night at Michael's to anyone, and that means so much. I just really pray that you won't tell anyone about this either. I can't make you do that though. So just forget about me O.K.? I'm so sorry I've dumped this on you."

On the outside it looks to people that know me like I am tuff. Maybe it's because at my size not only do I play football with big guys, but I'm damn good at it too. Maybe it's that I don't back down to the bigger guys. Or maybe it's that people believe my fa‡ade that nothing really bothers me, that I'll do what I want, I don't know. I tell you though that honestly I am really so chicken-shit on the inside. So I really don't know where I got the nerve to do it because I'm even more chicken-shit with showing emotion, but I found myself at the door hooking an arm around Jon and almost tackling him back into the house as he was pushing the door open. I saw a flare in his eyes, I guess part anger, part pain, part surprise, and definitely part fear. As Jon was getting back up off the stairs that I had knocked him down onto, to re-attempt escape, I closed the front door.

I was shouting at first, just to make sure I was getting through, "It's not locked, 'kay. You can leave now if you want to, but hear me first. 'Kay Jon? I think I like you! I don't want to suck your dick or anything cause I think that's gross, but I've dreamed about it, a lot. 'Kay? So were even. Now you know about me too. Does that make it any better?"

I felt so dirty having said that; not because I felt particularly embarrassed telling it to a guy that I like and seems to be available for me, but instead because it's the natural reaction to homosexuality of everyone around in my life that teaches that it's wrong for guys to like guys. I was burning up in the face, like I had to do a presentation in front of the whole school or something. For his part, Jon sat down on the steps. We just both stared at the floor; totally not making any eye contact, in total silence. It was a long wait, I sat down on the floor and rested my back against the door. We were both trying not to cry, but I found it so emotionally draining to actually tell someone. Now I was feeling fear for if I had made a mistake and if Jon would tell about me! We waited in silence until my AOL ran out of minutes on me and said "Goodbye!" through the stereo speakers I have plugged into the computer.

Scared into action, Jon got up and again reached for the door, "Shit! I thought you said you were home alone."

"I am. It was AOL closing itself."

"Huh?"

"I've only got dial up. Mom's not rich. That's why we even live here with my uncle. So I only have AOL dial-up. I guess I forgot to sign-off and my minutes just ran out on me so it signed itself off. It says welcome' and goodbye' when you sign on or off."

"Oh."

After another long silence I offered, "Hey, if were gonna stand here in silence, how about we sit back on the couch again or go to my room."

"Uh, sure. That would be cool I guess. Why don't we go to your room Daniel?"

My heart which was already racing, started pounding even harder in my throat. Why did I offer my room? I got up and Jon kicked off his shoes again and followed me. My room was such a mess. It's actually the master bedroom that I share it with my cousin Todd and his side is always so clean, even when he stays over. My side is usually clean too because my mom nags and nags, but her and Arnie weren't home yet so I hadn't put anything away. I sat on Todd's bed and motioned for Jon to sit on mine. His eyes kept darting to my football equipment spread between us, all over the middle of the floor.

"How can you be gay Daniel? You are so tuff, even for a small guy. Even the big dumb jocks in gym hate playing against you!"

"Do you hate playing against me?"

"No, never!" He started, a little too enthusiastically. "I mean yeah, but I want to be with you so I push myself real hard so I don't look stupid to you I guess."

.Silence.

"So how do you think, like when did you, you know, know you're.you know?"

"I don't know Jon. It's like I get fantasies and stuff. All the guys talk about jerking off and how big their loads are and how many times they do it and stuff. And if you haven't noticed I don't even have any hair yet and stuff so I started thinking of what it must be like; to be like other guys and have hair down there, and be able to get more than friction burn for my efforts. So when I jerk it I just started thinking about guys like Michael who are like way ahead of me. Then I started thinking about guys naked, then about touching them and doing stuff with them. Then it was like I never thought about girls at all. And in grade 9 I started thinking about you. I had the hugest orgasm ever the first time I thought of you with me that I think I almost even had some cum that time. How about you?"

"I never liked girls, not like the guys talking about Julia's tits or Helen Watermelon. I don't even think hers are big anyhow, they just call her that because her name is Helen. I like looking at the guys and their looks on their faces when they talk about it. I'd even look at the tents in their pants when they talk about girls and get turned on. Like, have you seen Bill Jones when he walks around in his boxers in the change room and how big he gets, and when he pops out of them when the guys talk about girls and tits?"

Actually I hadn't noticed, "No, to be honest I usually only ever dare look at you if I check any guy out at all there. I try to guess what underwear you're wearing each day, and really only have once checked out your package because I don't ever want to get caught checking a guy out."

Jon smiled, "Oh really, and which underwear do you like the best?"

"Well you're mostly gray, black and white Hanes boxer briefs; black especially on gym days. I do want to see what that pair of 2xist look like that you only ever wear outside of school that I see the waistband of when you shirt rides up and your pants slip down. I swear, I had to study your waistband for so long in Michael's mom's van the night we went to see the re-release of Star Wars I thought for sure I'd get caught! And then I had to look 2xist up on the internet to figure out what they were!"

That was the meat of our conversation that day. We were so relieved to be talking about it, but we both held back a lot. I couldn't see at the time that Jon was holding off on asking hundreds of questions, but he was, just like I was. The conversation kept changing, only occasionally slipping into any gay topic until we both felt awkward, then it was quickly diverted.

It still seemed pretty early when I heard Uncle Arnie's chopper coming down the street, early especially for him. I jumped up, gave Jon the quickest little hug and raced to the front to open the door so that Arnie wouldn't think anything was up. Jon took that as his queue to leave. As Arnie entered he put me in a headlock and messed up my hair more than it already was, said hello to Jon as Jon was fighting with a shoe and saying goodbye. Arnie then gave me a strange look.

Next: Chapter 4


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