WARNING: Please do not read this story if it is illegal to view erotic material in your area. This story is a work of fiction, and involves two high-school aged boys in love and making love. If this type of material offends you, you are encouraged to leave at once.
NOTE: The names are based on real people, but no last names are given.
-The story takes place in 1998-1999. You may have figured that out as a result of my mentioning "computers" and the Internet.
-Some background info on Chanthon: he's about 6'1", roughly 160 lbs., darker skin (a kind of dry-dark, and not African or African-American dark), wears glasses, has black hair that's spiked forward, but soft in the back. He is also very sturdy-built. Unlike most tall, skinny men, his arms are semi-muscular, his ankles are larger in girth than is normal for skinny men, and his over-all frame is quite proportionate.
-Chantha is almost exactly like his older brother Chanthon, except he's a freshmen, and his hair is only slightly longer.
Me & Chan
I stared at him quite intensely while waiting for Mrs. Tess to finish her little lecture about the upcoming speech we had to write for Speech class. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. I wasn't sure why I was attracted to him so much, other than how beautiful he was. Somewhere, deep inside of me, I thought that deep inside of him, behind that boyish, crude exterior, was a heart that needed attention that couldn't be obtained by normal methods. I believed there was a chance he was gay. The chance that he was at all interested in me was slim to nill, as I believed. This made things difficult as I couldn't quit staring at him, and he sat right to my left.
I suppose I should explain that. You see, I'm a big guy. Not fat, just... big. I'm almost 6' 4", weigh about 240, and have dark-blond/almost brown hair. I have brownish-greenish eyes that tend to vary slightly depending on the season. I'm fairly muscular, even though I don't work out. I've always been that way, partly due to the fact that all the exterior care for my parents house is provided for by me, and the endless running I have to do up down the four flights of stairs at school on a daily basis. I'm sixteen, but I don't drive. At least, not legally. I've taken the parent's Voyager out a time or two, but I can't drive in daylight. They don't even know it's been gone. And the reason I don't drive legally is because I don't have a liscense. In fact, I don't have a permit. I don't even have any Driver's Ed. "training".
Anyway, back to the object of my eyes' undivided attention.
His name is Chanthon, but everyone calls him "Chan" for short. He's a mix of Cambodian and Hispanic, but he got a Cambodian name. I had never known that Cambodians were a gorgeous race until I met him. Hispanics have there moment in the sun; don't get me wrong. But the hispanic/Cambodian mix in him just screamed "Love me". I loved every feature. He was about 6' 1", which is quite tall for an Asian man. He was slim, but not so that he was skinny. He had enough meat on him to be appealing. He never wore socks so I could always see his ankles and could tell by their size that he was built well, too. Not heavy-built, but sturdy-built.
His soft black hair was amazing. He usually spiked it forward with gel, giving a "sharp" look to it. But for some reason, he forgot to do that this morning.
"Feel my hair," he said to the boy sitting to his left. I could tell from the appearance alone it was soft. Not to mention he had just used a little bit of lotion in it to add to the softness.
The kid "pet" Chan's hair, much like a little kid would do to a puppy. Once he felt it, he slowed down and appeared to somewhat enjoy the sensation of this gorgeous boy's hair in between his fingers.
"See?" Chanthon said, as if he had told the kid that it was soft and the kid had argued.
I wished I could have been that boy. I'd give anything to touch Chanthon. Although I didn't see it happening any time soon; he was a senior, and so was the other kid, but I wasn't. I was a junior at the time.
Every so often for the rest of the day, I would steal glimpses over at him to look at his refined young body. He always wore baggy clothing, so I never saw much of the main parts. But I could tell by the way his pants lay on his legs and his shirt wrapped around him that he was proportionate; not something you can say for a lot of the boys in that school.
*** A few months later, after having spent hours staring at him....
I was on my way to PM school to work on making up part of a credit I needed towards English. I had decided to go a little late, since the hours were quite flexible. Come and go as you wish, between 3 and 6 at night.
I was about to turn the corner to my classroom when I noticed something out of place laying at the bottom of the steps just inside the entry way at door 15. There were only 3 steps there, so it couldn't have been that bad, I thought.
I walked over and found Chanthon laying motionless, sprawled out as if to indicate a fall. I rushed down the steps to him and checked for signs of breathing. Thank God, he was still breathing. I checked his pulse next, since I had recently gone through CPR training in my Health class. His pulse seemed normal. I tried gently shaking his arm and talking to him to get him to come to.
"Chan? Chanthon? You there, man?"
No answer. Maybe cold water would help. I had my water bottle with, which was a handy coincidence. I sprayed a quick burst onto his face, trying not to get his clothing wet, and trying to use too powerful of a stream. He felt that, and began to come to.
"What the hell? What happened?" he asked, sounding half-confused, half-knowingly.
"I don't know man, maybe you can tell me." I said, since he was clearly awake and lucid.
"Aww, shit, man. I think it was this new med that I'm on. Shit for depression. They said it might cause sudden blackouts. I'm gettin' off that shit. Just started this morning."
"Good idea." I said, not really knowing what else to say.
He got up an slowly gathered his things.
"You gonna be alright, Chanthon?" I asked.
"Yeah, I think. It's the first time that's happened." he replied.
He stood up and looked me in the eyes.
"Thanks for bringin' me around, Eric."
I looked back at him, with his eyes suddenly soft and inviting. I choked on my reply.
"Ye-, yeah, no problem."
He turned around to leave, then stopped.
"Would you mind walking with me till I get home, just in case that happens again?"
Um, wow. I thought in my head. I felt I was jumping the gun, thinking his eyes had softened. Now I was really jumping the gun thinking that walking him home was anything more than insurance.
"Sure. Where do you live, anyhow?" I asked.
"Over on Dupont and forty-first, by the old abandoned elementary school. You?"
"Dupont and forty-seventh."
"Really? How long have you lived there?"
"About 12 years. I lived in Brooklyn Center before that. We live in a house that's about a hundred years old. I assume yours is, too?"
"No, ours burned down last year. We had a new one built in it's place. Thankfully, we all got out alive and okay, including our dog."
"That's good." I said.
We had reached Dupont and 39th, so it was only a couple more blocks.
We walked in silence till we got to his house, where a kid who appeared to be his younger brother sat on the steps, clearly pissed off.
"No keys again, I assume?" Chanthon taunted.
"Gee Sherlock, what was your first clue?" the kid replied.
"Eric, this is Chantha, my younger brother. Chantha, this is Eric." he said, introducing the two of us for the first time.
"Hi." I said to him. "What school do you go to and what grade?"
"Same as you, but I'm a freshman."
Ah, how I loved that term "fresh-man". In his case, it appeared true. He was about five inches shorter than Chan, but other than that, looked as though they could be identical twins.
"We're gonna head upstairs for a while to work on some things," Chanthon said as he opened the door, "just stay downstairs and don't piss around with the fish. Dad got really pissed off for that last time."
"Nah, I'm not stayin' home. I'm gonna go hang with some friends. Not sure where we're goin' or what we'll do, so I'll bring my phone."
Chantha set down his school stuff in the entry way and proceeded upstairs in a hell of a hurry, returning quickly with his cell phone in his hand.
"See ya." He shouted on his way out.
"I thought I was just walking you home, not staying or anything?" I said, trying not to sound as though I wanted to stay, which I very badly did.
"That was the plan, but I was hoping you'd stay for a while since my brother won't be here to watch me." he said.
"You said I was staying before he told you he was leaving." I pointed out, trying to peel away the layers of what I thought was a lie.
"He usually does this. He'll get pissed and then leave."
"Okay," I replied, trying not to push the subject. "So what are we gonna do?"
"Well, we've got our speeches for class, and I've got my own computer upstairs in my room.... we could work on those for a while."
"Allright." I managed to squeak out. Man, Chanthon's room, and I'll be in it? I might blow my load right at the freakin' door. I'm not expecting anything, but just to be in his "domain" if you will. Wow...
We walked up the steps after having peeled off our coats and dropping them on the floor in the front room. We jogged up the steps to his room. I hadn't realized how large the house was. There were at least five rooms upstairs. His was the second door on the left. Before we got to the door, I noticed a keyed lock on it.
"Brother a pain in the ass, I assume?" I said, pointing to the lock.
"That's half of it. Sometimes it's just to keep my parents out."
"And they don't mind?"
"Not really. They bitched at first, man, but they got over it."
"Mine would sooner remove my door than let me have a lock. Fuckin' idiots."
He opened it up and led me in. He had a good queen-sized bed (no pun intended), a chest of drawers, a TV stand with his own frickin' 27" Sony, a PS2, and his computer desk with the system, a printer, a scanner, and a speaker & subwoofer audio set. This was a sweet set up.
"You can go ahead and start on yours. I'm gonna take a shower." he said. There was something strange about how he said it, though. He paused somewhat on the word "shower" and looked directly at me. I couldn't be sure if that meant anything or not, so I just said "'K."
He stripped to his boxers to get ready for the shower. I quickly sat down at his computer to help hide the instant-on erecti-on I got from seeing this beautiful man undress in front of me. My cock was throbbing so hard I could feel it with every beat. The strain on my jeans made it hurt like hell.
I watched him look over at me slightly and catch himself before he left the room. He seemed as though he didn't want to leave, but only slightly, like he was forgetting something. "Yeah," I thought to my self. "You're missing me."
I brought his system out of standby while he headed across the hall to the bathroom. It came up quickly, which was surprising. I had no sooner click "Microsoft Word" on the desktop when an idea occurred to me.
What if he had been visiting porn sites? Would he know to erase that shit in the History?
I checked the history folder in the web browser. Nothin'. Which meant he had cleaned it out, or never used it. I believed the former to be true. I browsed around on his drive for the "Cookies" folder. There were all sorts of them. I left the folder and went to the built-in "Find Files" feature. I directed it to the cookies folder and told it to search for "gay". It returned 42 results! I couldn't believe it!
I looked through the titles, and sure enough, they were from gay porn sites, some of which I knew well.
That was it. The time for waiting was over. I had to have Chanthon, and now. My cock would have busted if I were to wait any longer. I stripped to my boxers and slipped out the door, and over into the bathroom. I removed my boxers and slid them to the corner.
"This is it," I thought to myself. "I'm gonna see Chanthon nude."
Well, this concludes Chapter 1 of Me & Chan. I hope you enjoyed it.
I realize I have just started a series of chapters in a story, and that I told you I was going to continue writing the story. This is true; however, the stories could be anywhere up to a couple of months in between, although it will probably never get that distant.
I also noticed while reading back through my last story that some of the grammar may have been bad (such as using "where" in place of "were", which was an accident), and that I tend to skip from subject to subject without finishing the last one. For instance, I sometimes start with describing one thing, and get so excited that I skip right to the next thing without finishing the last. (See, even I get excited by my stories!)
Anyhow, in respect to courtesy to my readers, I will try to focus more while writing the chapters and weave quality into my work. I just need to slow down, and, more importantly, proof-read my work before I send it to Nifty.
Please, I need your comments, suggestions, questions, everything! If you have something to say to me, please do. I need your feedback to get the ball rolling. Email me at gaybekenobi@yahoo.com
Thank You