Leaving Home (part 1) by Chris (aka Crispy Toast)
A quick introduction... This is a true story, it was my crazy life a few years ago, although to protect people's privacy all names other than mine have been changed. A couple of friends thought I should share it, which was my reason for writing. Usual disclaimers ... if you share this, please attribute it. It is a love story, it's how I met my first boyfriend and how my life completely changed through it. There's sex here and there in this story but if you're here to get off, you might be waiting a while and might get a bit frustrated, as this is a real story and not some thing I made up to get people off, and I really did have a hard time of dealing with my sexuality. I'm sure a lot of guys will be able to relate. I'm Australian so my use of language might be a little different to what you're used to.
Credits to the Perth band Jebediah for the song title.
Part 1 - Beginnings
Like every other day, I walked to school.
Like every other day, I said hi to my mates. This was a school where you had mates you didn't necessary like but it was better to have them as friends than enemies, and they were sometimes useful. My true friends were outside the school ... outside the school system, for that matter. They'd left early. They were smart.
Like every other day, I went to class, and listened to the Geography teacher who didn't want to be there, the History teacher who probably shouldn't have been there, the Mathematics teacher who thought certain past dictators generally had the right idea, the deputy principal who wanted to believe he was in charge, and the guidance counsellor who looked utterly out of his depth at the enormity of his job, which he probably hadn't bargained on when he came to this area - especially when the cop cars rolled up at the back of the oval in what seemed to be a weekly ritual. Some smartass types even called the cops "Sir" as one would a teacher, they were there often enough.
Welcome to the southeastern suburbs of Perth, Australia - my home since I was born. The school I have described wasn't so much an institution of learning as a place where the government required you to attend regularly until the year before you turn 18 for reasons well beyond the comprehension of many of its occupants (and not just the students). Occasionally the government would see fit to invest in a travelling job seminar to tell us about all the occupations none of us would ever hold, with excited young people who clearly had never been to this part of town before telling us how working in retail had changed their lives and given them a future.
Home was not necessarily any better. It was an old style, mostly weatherboard house built by Homeswest (the state housing commission) about 40 years ago as part of some failed project to improve quality of life for those less well off. I'm told I was one of a minority who lived with both parents. I certainly existed with them. My dad had had a stroke when I was 11 and spent most of his days in front of the television drinking beer and incomprehensibly insulting sportsmen as if they could hear him (and insulting the rest of us, who unfortunately could.) My mum... good question where she was, she had a job but noone quite knew what. We never had much food, but both my parents were chain smokers and collected Jim Beam bottles under the house to such an extent that had there ever been a nuclear war, they could probably have opened the first post-apocalyptic pub, although the absence of anything edible might have been a problem. It was up to myself and my 10-year-old sister to find stuff to eat or buy it from the shops out of Family Assistance money. Sometimes a well meaning neighbour would invite us round and we'd have a proper meal, or I'd stay at friends' places and have what they were having.
A bit about myself. My name's Chris, I've just turned 16 years old, and my future has never looked better. I'm 5'8", 55 or 56 kilos (about 120 pounds), light brown hair and brown eyes. As might be obvious, I get a lot of crap at school from people who are bigger or more built than me. I get through it by knowing that nothing I do or say makes a lick of difference, so I'm not really afraid of what others think of me - other than for purely self protective purposes. I'm probably hated by every teacher at my school because I'm that sort of student that comes up with the left-field comments that people remember more than whatever the teacher was going on about. I don't have much difficulty getting with girls, and I just try to completely ignore anything I might feel about the guys. In the last year I've gained a somewhat legendary reputation for being able to drink insane amounts of alcohol in a short time, which makes for a good party trick but probably not a long life. I have also got a reputation of getting suspended more times in two years than any other student - 17 at last count. Sometimes having parents who are self-obsessed and don't give a crap can be an advantage.
When I'm suspended, that's where my real friends kick in. There's nothing quite like lying around with mates listening to loud, obnoxious heavy metal and getting wasted and talking crap. As I might have mentioned, talking crap is something I'm exceedingly good at - it's one of my best talents, actually. My friends are all older than me and gave up on ambition years ago, either working manual jobs or panel beating or whatever, or on the dole, and they're into bands I'd never heard of before I met them - Kovenant, Katatonia, Opeth, Dillinger Escape Plan, that sort of stuff. Otherwise we just wander around the highway strips about 10-15 kilometres (7-10 miles) closer to the city centre, maybe checking out music stores or grabbing a coffee - something that always seems to take 3 hours, to the great annoyance of cafe owners. I'm kind of used to that "you're not our target demographic" stare.
Right, so back to today, sometime in July on an overcast winter day, about 16 degrees outside (61°F). First class up is Geography, then English, then Mathematics. Somehow, I manage to completely disappear during Geography - the teacher is too busy talking about her allegedly excessive home electricity bill and outlining her proposed civil disobedience movement against utility companies to notice. My girlfriend is too busy noticing the guy who's large and crazy enough to beat me up at lunch to notice. While I have no problems attracting the girls, it's never safe to plan on keeping them for too long.
A change of clothes into a hoodie and jeans, a bus, a smoke (or two) and a train later, and I'm at Westfield Carousel, the southeast's biggest shopping centre. It's one of those ones that no matter what way you walk in and no matter what way you plan your time there, you head for the way you came in and somehow end up somewhere else. It's a great place to kill time though, it's huge and completely anonymous.
That gets old after a while - shopping is fun until you get jealous of the people who have money to buy stuff - so I head over the river into the city on the train. While the highway strips are in way more affluent areas than my own, crossing the river is another world entirely. It's difficult to explain it as it's subtle, but it's the people, just the look, it feels like the mining boom city with the strangely chilled out vibe that it actually is rather than a neglected outer suburb with decaying facilities and parks whose grass struggles for life even in mid-winter.
As always happens if one goes through about 11:30am, the guys returning home from early lectures/tutorials get on at the university train stop. The timing isn't accidental, I planned to be on this train and even had to wait for it. It's the only concession my latent gay side gets every now and then.
But today was about to become different to any other day I'd ever had. Very different.
As usual I squizzed at the guys coming onto the train. I'd developed almost a system before they even got on so I'd know which ones were likely to come in which direction, so I could position myself accordingly for the next 12 minutes without me moving or them noticing. I felt incredibly uncomfortable about what I was doing, but I did it anyway - it fulfilled a need, I guess.
I'd pegged out three and had seated myself on one of the sideways-facing benches near the end of one carriage as I'd figured a group of five which they were the major part of was likely to sit here. I was almost right. Just before they got there, another guy walked in from the other carriage, out of my field of view, and sat down directly opposite me. And, like, oh my God. My head just went whacked and a number of plans went right out the window. He was just straight-out damned hot! About 18, dark hair showing some evidence of hairspray, tanned but not overly tanned skin, possibly Italian, normal build, gentle features, soft lips and face, really good posture, nice warm eyes... oh no, did I just say eyes??
About that point in my thinking was when I realised the newfound object of my desire was looking STRAIGHT AT ME. Now I guess you'd have to understand that this is not your standard boy meets boy moment. Here's this elegant, middle class, educated guy and a boy in a hoodie and torn jeans facing each other off. His look was quizzical, exploring, but not hostile - I guess that surprised me. He was clearly puzzled as to why I would be looking at him. I looked away and pretended to stretch so I could later argue to myself that I was tired.
But something drew me back. I don't know what it was. I just had to look at him again! And within two or three seconds, he looked back too! Man, how awkward... He was now clearly nervous - I could see him fidgeting and pretending not to. I tried my best to smile but something caught in my throat and I thought I probably looked quite insincere. Since when do I care how I look to someone? Every time he looked back at me, I ended up looking down. A lot more fidgeting, not just him too, I found myself playing with my train ticket. It was a very, very long 12 minutes.
We got to the city finally, and as he got up, he smiled at me... and it was a smile that would melt ice, even in its briefness. I was feeling so confused, why was I so obsessed over this guy? I had even stopped noticing my original targets, they just didn't have this guy's magnetism. He walked past, and I kept my head down. Just as he went to get off the train, he flicked a look back while pretending not to then headed for another train.
How exactly I came to end up on his new train in his carriage, I'm still not quite sure. But that's exactly what happened. I was suddenly starting to care about how I looked and smelled and felt embarrassed that I hadn't brought a deodorant can with me. In retrospect, given my preference at the time for cheap nasty deodorants that would wake the dead, it was probably a blessing. This time, we were seated in the normal parallel seating but I'd picked a vantage point where I could see him. I made some basic effort to make my hair slightly more presentable than it was. This time, I at least had a natural view/distraction - the window. It didn't take me long to find a way I could look at the window and see his reflection. Hot.
I don't know why it freaked me out so much that he was able while reading a book to steal glances at me. I think there's a first time for everything, and none of the others had even known they were being admired, whereas this one not only likely knew, but was happy to admire back. My head and stomach were going crazy, and not in a good way - I was starting to scare myself. Somewhere along the way I noted this was the furthest north I'd ever been, so it was uncharted territory in more ways than one. Not that I was really bravely exploring, I could still be back in the city in 15 minutes or less. And hence my plan of getting off at his station and turning around and coming back kind of haphazardly evolved.
My plan of doing that without attracting attention was about as successful as my plan to come out the same entrance I came in at Carousel earlier in the day. I got off after him so as not to be noticed, and hovered over in the crowd to the opposite platform so I could catch the train back. To explain - this station is a two-level station in the middle of a freeway, trains on the bottom, buses on the top, and a footbridge to the carpark. 3 minutes to go - was almost over this whole weird exercise and the way I was acting over some guy I'd never see again, just because he smiled at me, I mean - wtf? I couldn't even blame drugs as an excuse. I was going to resume my plan of going into the city and this music store I sometimes went to where I would chat to the owner who'd gotten to know me on first name ter.....
"Um, hi."
I spun around to identify the source of the voice and almost walked straight into him.
"H-h-um, hi man," I managed unconvincingly. I became concerned he would think I had a disability.
"Mirko." He reached out his hand to shake. "And you are...?"
"C-Chris." I shook his hand, and was struck by how soft his hand was.
He chuckled. "I so can't believe I'm doing this. I hope I didn't freak you out."
"Nah it's cool." Not entirely truthful but it worked for the present.
"We should go for a walk. This place isn't exactly made for conversation..." As he talked and as I became slightly more used to him, it struck me that his voice was, like the rest of him, hot. He sounded mostly Aussie but with the hint of an accent, and softish in a way that seemed to really work well with his looks. He just seemed so unbelievably perfect.
The two of us walked up the escalator and out of the station. He didn't talk again until we got out, although he did glance at me and smile a couple of times. Underneath his confidence I could see he was shaking a little. We were well out of the station by the time he chose to engage me again.
"Chris, I'm so glad we could get that awkwardness out of the way."
"Yeah, same."
"I'm not holding you back from anything, am I?"
"No, I'm just chilling."
"I didn't MEAN to keep looking at you like that. But you're not hard to look at at all!"
"Um, yeah, I know my hair's a fucking mess." I think I turned a bit red.
"No, not that. Just you. OK, now I'm going to stop after completely embarrassing myself!" He said the last part in an almost breathless tone and then looked away decisively afterwards.
"Nah you're fine."
"I feel so exposed here. Let's find somewhere a bit more private..." Across the main road was a dense clump of woodland. While small, it seemed completely private. I pointed it out and we headed straight for it.
Almost as soon as we sat down inside the woodland, Mirko looked softly at me, but with a hint of trepidation.
"THIS is what I wanted to do, Chris."
About 20 seconds later, I asked "You mean, stare at me?"
He said, "No. I'm just working up the confidence!" and chuckled nervously. I honestly had no way to comprehend what he had said or anticipate what he planned to do, today being so unlike any other day, and this 18-year-old guy having come unexpectedly into it and turning all my careful plans for loitering in the city upside down.
Then he did it. He grabbed my right hand with his right hand, clasping it carefully, then with his left, started stroking the back of it gently. It was a flood of feelings... I almost fell backwards in shock but there was a tree behind me so I only fell a couple of centimetres.
He instantly let go. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"
I stammered that it was OK, I was just a little surprised. He looked at me, concerned. I looked up at him and met his eyes. My impulse was to look straight down again, but I didn't want him to feel bad so I managed to keep eye contact with him for about 4 seconds until impulse won and I looked down.
I put my hand out again to let him pick it up again with his amazing touch. I was so unready for this and yet so determined to experience it anyway. After some time he pulled me in for a hug. Now I'd been close to girls before, I'd thrown my arms around guys randomly as mates, but this was just doing my head in. It was one of those genuinely warm hugs that communicated love... from a guy I'd just met and for some reason followed all this way on a train. Part of me felt so relaxed and comfortable and... well, amazing, the other part of me was scared shitless. For several minutes I just let him hold me and occasionally stroke and cradle my hands. My brain was just switched off, I was in neutral. I had no idea what to do but I had no intention of leaving.
Mirko slowly turned me around and put his legs up either side of me so he could cuddle me closer. I think I fell asleep, it was just so good. I really felt I could trust Mirko, he really cared about me. And yet he didn't even know me. And I didn't have to do anything except lay back and let him cuddle me. It rocked.
...Time passed...
I got woken up with a start. Someone's fingers were really, really softly stroking my bare skin underneath my hoodie and there was a gentle, soft, warm feeling on the back of my neck. I could feel his breath gently warming up the bit he'd just licked. As I sat there, facing a tree and the little bits of overcast sky peeking through it, I realised this was almost a cycle, that he was circling the back of my neck with his tongue and then breathing onto it. I could feel something very hard poking into my lower
back, too. I had no idea of the time, but I didn't care. Mirko was making me feel in a way no-one ever had - it wasn't just a sexual turn-on (and I say "just" as I was pretty turned on too) but also just an intense feeling of being loved. I'd never felt that before in my entire life. And it was so weird for me as with the girls I was always the one pushing things along, being bold, being confident, and here I was letting Mirko handle my body, a guy I didn't even know who I just felt to trust for no apparent reason.
"I think you're getting a little hot there, Chris... Mind if I help you off with this?" Mirko tugged at my hoodie. Strangely, I offered no resistance. I felt the cold outside air rush around my chest and shoulders, to be quickly replaced with Mirko's bare chest and arms. I can't remember what was happening at this point, my feelings were going crazy and my skin felt electric. I turned sideways so I could place my head against Mirko's chest and close my eyes. His skin was magical... it felt soft, but also the warmth and smell of it, it had this gentle, intoxicating aroma to it. Mirko bent his head down and started nuzzling my neck.
"Don't be scared, Chris. I promise I'll never hurt you." His words whispered so softly in my ear carried a real sincerity and meaning to them.
"Why are you doing this?" I replied.
"I don't know. It feels right. Is that too crazy?"
"No."
"You've never done this before, have you?"
"Hell no. I'm not gay or anything."
"We all have needs." And with that, he grabbed my body, lay down on the grass and pulled me down onto him. I found myself staring into his eyes. I didn't feel afraid to look into them this time. We lay there topless, smiling at each other, and I somehow managed to pull up the confidence to kiss him. My head was going "WTF?!" but it just felt right. I pulled away, worried I'd pushed things too far... and then he opened his lips and pulled my head down onto him again. This time he ventured a tongue and I responded... and my god, it was heavenly. The whole time he was rubbing my back in his unique, firm yet caring way.
I'd done all of this kind of stuff with girls but this was just so mindbendingly intense, I never wanted it to stop. In retrospect I don't even know why I didn't think of any possibility that we could be caught, although it was an offroad bit of fairly thick bushland with a hollow in the middle which is almost invisible from the outside. I found myself wondering how many other young pairs have explored it like this.
I felt a hand wander down my back and start rubbing my ass through my jeans.
"Um, mate, just no, not there."
"Oh god, I'm so sorry!"
"Don't be, I like what we were doing but just not that."
His hand returned to stroking my back and the kissing resumed, although initially there was a bit more hesitancy than there had been. Curiosity at where he wanted to take this ... although I'm not sure he knew ... mixed with my intense desire to be loved and also my sexual attraction to him which was roaring like a machine, blended seamlessly with my fears about what on earth I was to make of everything that was happening...
"Mirko, can you put your number in my phone?" I needed security.
"Sure, do I get yours too?" he said.
"Only if I decide to message you."
He seemed a bit disheartened by my reply, but picked up my phone and, with some help from me to find the address book, added his number. I said, "It'd better not be a fake one!" He just chuckled.
We returned to kissing almost as soon as he'd finished.
He broke the silence. "I don't want to freak you out," he said. "Tell me if I do something you don't like and I promise I'll stop." That sounded a bit ominous.
"Um, my ass is off limits. I'm not into the gay shit." I think I'd gotten to the point where I could separate out the things I liked, and just call them nothing, and the things I didn't want to do, and call them "gay shit". That made it nice and easy for my contradictory value system to hold up against this soft, intoxicating challenge to it.
"Don't worry, that wasn't what I was going to do. Just lay down flat and close your eyes, Chris."
I did what I was told without even knowing why. I was scared more than ever now but I remembered his promise to never hurt me and letting Mirko set the pace was turning me on badly. I couldn't see him so I put out my hand trying to find him. I felt him grab my hand.
"Bitch! You nearly poked my eye!" He laughed.
"Ha, serves you right," I said.
I felt a cool liquid being gently rubbed onto my tummy.
"You need to look after your skin better, Chris."
"Yeah well when I can afford food AND stuff for my skin, I'll let you know."
"Don't you live at home?"
"Yes."
"Why do you need to afford food then? How old are you?"
I opened my eyes to see him crouched over me with a little green tube of some sort of gel. "16. And because noone else buys it. I can get hammered off my nut for free, I don't have to pay for these" (showing my Winfield Reds from my back pocket) "but yeah..."
"Oh God Chris. I had no idea. I'm 19 by the way, since you told me, I live with my older sister's family because I wasn't getting along with my mum."
"Haha, that's got to suck."
"No, my sister and I get on real well, she's basically looked after me since I was a little kid. And I just have to babysit her son and do chores and I don't have to pay a cent."
"What do you study?"
We got into a real conversation about ourselves for the first time. I found out he was Serbian. His family hadn't had much money but for the last few years they'd done alright. He was only the second person in his family ever to make it to university. I think I shocked him several times describing my circumstances. He really was going places and really knew what he wanted out of life. It was hardly the case for me.
"What is that stuff anyway?" I asked.
"Aloe vera. If you breathe on it, it goes all soft and mushy and you can rub it into your skin."
He paused. "You know, if you're not doing anything you should come round to my place. My nephew's at kindy and my sister's out."
"Um... no. This is WAY too new for me."
"OK... I get it. But I do like you a lot. You're really nice."
Me? Really nice? That had got to be the first time anyone had ever said that. I wasn't sure if he was just flattering, although why anyone would ever want to flatter me was completely beyond me.
"Nah, you don't know me yet. But I dunno... you're pretty cool, Mirko."
"I hope you decide to send me a message! I so don't want to leave things here."
"Let me see. I don't even fucking know where I'm at."
"I'm sorry if I pushed you, Chris... I always kind of knew I was gay and jumped in the deep end when I was ready, so it wasn't an issue for me. But I mean what I said before, if I ever do anything you don't like, just stop me. I never want to hurt you, Chris."
"Why are you doing this?" I'd asked before but I had another question. "And why me?"
"I don't even know. I just picked up a vibe from you. I so don't do this kind of stuff normally! I'm nervous as hell, I'm sure you know that though."
I didn't know how to reply to that - discussing feelings was not my strong point. We had one last hug before putting on our tops again. He guided me back to the train station and kept looking at me and smiling softly in a way that really made me feel good. I sat on the train and saw him waving until he was out of my view... it was 1:45pm. Fuck, over 2 hours had gone by.
I didn't feel like getting off in the city now. My head was just rolling in its own confused reality of oddness. What I needed was alcohol and lots of it. I could still taste Mirko's kisses and smell his gentle aroma even when I got off at my local station. My chest felt like it was crawling. I just wanted to have a shower and make it go away, and wash the back of my throat with straight Beam. Ah...
Next day I got smashed up by the guy who wanted my girlfriend. I guess it was overdue. As for Beam, it became my best friend for about four nights. Being numb was right about where I was at. It was just better than trying to make sense or deal, and I now had some rather serious bruises to cure. One amazing thing about my house is that I can have two big bruises under my eye, be drunk as all fuck, and my mum doesn't even notice.
I shall continue this story later, it most definitely is not over....