Title: Running Scared Category: Gay Male/High School
Disclaimer: "Welcome to my parlor," said the spider to the fly. Now here comes the question. Are you ready? Okay, here goes. Should you be here? Only you know the answer to that, my friends. Now let's look at this rationally, because we're all calm, civilized people, right? Point One: If you're under 18, I'm not gonna tell you to leave. Why not? Because I can't make your choices for you. Only you can do that. I AM, however, gonna tell you that if you are under 18 and you feel like reading it anyway (Rock on! Power to the opressed youth!), don't get caught. Point Two: Let me remind everyone that this is a work of homosexual fiction. Smaller terms? It's a GAY STORY. Which brings us to Point Three: If this kind of thing weirds you out or disgusts you, I have only one thing to say. Scram. I don't want you here to begin with. For the rest of you, kick back and enjoy the story!!
To my good friends Desarae and Sandeep: May your love bring you a lifetime's worth of happiness and beyond.
Running Scared Chapter Three By Brennan Jobse
It had been five days since the dream and things were getting bad. I kept catching myself looking for clues. Was Austin gay? Did he like me? Did he like me but not want me to know because he was scared? Did he know I liked him and was secretly laughing at me? By the end of the day, my head ached from dwelling on it all day and I was relieved when the final bell rang, signaling the end of class.
For an hour and a half I played soccer. Wonderful, perfect, blissfully mindless soccer. When it was over, I was sore and exhausted. But at least my head didn't hurt anymore. I got changed and stumbled home with the intent of doing nothing more than appeasing my father with my presence for a short while and then crashing for the rest of the day in my bedroom.
When I walked through the door, I could smell the alcohol in the air. I cursed inwardly to myself. My dad had been having problems at work lately, new criteria concerning new recruits. Unfortunately for me, this translated into Dad having a couple of stiff drinks when he got home. Which meant, I wanted to be somewhere, anywhere, other than here.
I considered my options. Try and sneak quietly up to my room and hope he passed out before long, or go to Aaron's place and chill for a while. I spun on my heels and headed for Aaron's.
I was thinking about nothing in particular when it hit me that it was the 20th of January. Aaron's birthday was in a little over two months. It had been a long standing tradition that we always exchanged presents on the midnight of the 23rd. Didn't really leave a lot of opportunity for extravagant last minute gifts. I frowned in frustration. For all the goofing around he did, Aaron was a sensitive guy. He put a lot of thought into things like this. Last year, he had saved for months to get me an autographed photo of Benito Yanez, my all time favorite soccer player.
I rang the doorbell and waited outside until Aaron's mom answered it. Mrs. Riveste (she insisted I call her Jenn; said 'Mrs. Riveste' made her feel sixty) was a wonderful person. She was one of those people who liked to laugh and you didn't feel awkward around her ever. She and my mom were best friends.
"Ben!" she cried, wrapping her arms around me. "I haven't seen you in FOREVER!"
"Likewise," I agreed. "How're things?" I stepped inside the house and was bombarded by the strong scent of chili. I heard a thunder of footsteps above my head and smiled.
"Any better and I couldn't stand it. You? How's school?"
I was just about to answer when I was tackled to the ground by Sara and Emily, Aaron's six year old twin sisters. "Ben!" they squealed, jumping on top of me.
"Girls! You know better than to treat guests that way!" Jenn scolded.
Emily, the younger of the two, looked at her mom like she was from Mars. "But Mommy, Ben's not a guest. He's just Ben."
"Yeah," Sara chimed in, "Ben smells too good to be a guest. All Daddy's guests smell like cabbage."
"Sara!"
The girls giggled and got off me, bounding back up the stairs. I picked myself up and grinned at Jenn, who looked at me apologetically. I sent her back to her chili making operation and went downstairs to see what Aaron was up to.
He was sitting on the old ratty couch that they had 'saved' from a yard sale a few years back. Personally, I thought it looked like it had been rescued from a Dumpster. It was beige and yellow, with rips and tears everywhere, but none big enough so that the springs popped out. But, it was comfortable enough to veg on, which was good enough for us.
I hopped over the back of it and landed next to Aaron, who didn't even look away from the TV to see who it was. "Hey," he said, staring intently at the screen.
"What're you watching?"
"Shh. Very important. Absolutely crucial that I see this." He was watching the news. They were yammering about the Napster court case. They had lost their case and were trying for an appeal. Aaron looked sort of broken up about it so I let him watch the rest of his snippet in peace.
"Shitty deal," I said after it was over.
"Yeah," he sighed, flipping to MuchMusic. "But it'll get better."
We basked in the utter idiocy of the set for a few minutes. Ain't TV grand? Flashing lights, loud noises, what else do you need? "So," he said, turning to me, "what brings you to my humble abode?"
I groaned. "My dad."
Aaron got a wary look on his face. "What now?"
I shook my head to ease his suspicions. I knew what he was thinking. A few months before I told Aaron I was gay, he had noticed my bruises. Seeing as how he WAS my best friend (and the bastard wouldn't let it go) I decided to let him in on a little of it, and admitted, reluctantly, that every now and then, my dear old papa would vent his aggression on me. Aaron was, to say the least, pissed. He had gone on and on about how that was child abuse and it was wrong and he couldn't get away with it. For almost six hours straight he kept that up, until I finally convinced him that it wasn't terribly serious.
"He's drinking himself into a stupor and I just didn't feel like being at home," I said simply. I didn't like talking about it much. I felt bad because I never told Aaron the whole truth about my home life. But, I reasoned, if he knew, it would upset him, and that was the last thing I wanted.
"You know my place is open any time you want it, man," he reminded me, his brown eyes reflecting the light of the TV in the dimly lighted basement..
I nodded. "So what are you doing tonight?" I asked, changing the subject.
"Hmm, big date tonight," he said smugly, turning back toward the TV.
"No way!" I exclaimed. "Who?"
"Amy Klisdale."
"That chick from your drama class?"
He smiled and nodded. "We're going to check out 'Brigadoon' at the outdoor theater on Phoenix. It's her favorite play."
"So is there something there or what?"
"How should I know? I only asked her out today."
"Yeah, but you're in her class. Do you two hang out?"
"Sort of. Anyway, speaking of something there, what's the deal with you and Austin?" He grinned lewdly and raised his eyebrows.
Maybe I could lie. "Nothing," I said innocently.
"Nothing?"
Maybe not. I sighed. "Okay, there is something-" I started.
"I knew it! He likes you doesn't he?"
I shook my head to try and relieve the headache from before that threatened to return. "No. Maybe. I don't know."
"But you like him," Aaron confirmed. I nodded. "That's all it is?" he persisted.
I considered this for a moment. How did I feel about Austin? At first it was relatively easy to define. I thought of Austin, I got hard, I whacked off. Nice, simple, basic, teenage crush that I knew I would eventually get over. But lately, I noticed things about him that didn't make me hot. They made me smile. Like the way his teeth always showed just a little bit when he smiled. Or the way his eyes scrunched up when he was trying to figure out a math question. These little observations brought forward a completely new take on things. One I had never experienced before. Maybe there was something more there. Maybe not. I didn't know.
To Aaron, I shrugged helplessly. We lost ourselves in the surreal glow of the TV until Jenn called Aaron for dinner. I decided it was time for me to go.
"I'm gone, man," I said, rising from the couch.
"You sure?" he asked, looking a little concerned. "You could stay if you want."
"Nah. I should go check on my dad anyway." I dreaded the thought. Bastard was probably passed out on the couch in a puddle of drool. If I was lucky maybe he would have hauled himself into bed. Not likely.
"Your call," he shrugged, walking me to the door.
"Bye Ben!" the soprano voices called from the kitchen.
"Bye girls!" I called back, shooting a grin at Aaron, who rolled his eyes. He never understood how me and his sisters got along so well. I think it's because I was an only child.
"Did they get you on the way in?" he asked as I stood on his porch. I just smiled. He shook his head in defeat and smiled to himself. "Sad, man," was the last thing I heard, and then I was staring at a door.
It was dusk when I walked home that night. About 6:30 or so. The sunset was brilliant. A swirling mass of orange, yellow, red, pink, and purple illuminating the clouds and making the trees shine with color. It was incredible. What would it be like to have somebody to share it with?
I thought about my dad, wondered what state he'd be in when I got home. I hoped I wouldn't have to do to much for him tonight. I wasn't in a very charitable mood when it came to him. My mom always gave him the benefit of the doubt. She'd like this, I thought, looking up at the painted sky. I thought about Aaron. Thought about where we stood now as opposed to where we had stood in the past. He knew more of me than anyone else in the world, and though I desperately wanted it to, it didn't amount to much. I thought about Austin. I ached to tell him how I felt, what little I could be sure of anyway. I wanted... I didn't know what I wanted. All I knew was that I felt something for Austin. Something strong. And I had no idea what it was.
By the time I had climbed my front steps, the good mood I had found at Aaron's had dissolved into one of remorse and self-pity. I hated my life. You know the old saying about being all alone in a room full of people? That was me. I had people around me, everywhere, but I was all by myself.
I fished out my keys from my pocket and opened the door. It was dark inside. Maybe my dad had gone to bed. I flicked on a light and wandered through the house. Damage control, I thought ruefully to myself. The place wasn't in good shape, but it wasn't terrible either. Pretty moderate, actually. There were empty bottles and pools of booze on the coffee table in the living room, and some furniture and pictures were knocked over, but otherwise, everything was fine. My father was nowhere to be found. And that scared me.
"So," a menacing voice behind me growled. "Little baby Benny's home from his outing." I spun around and saw my dad leaning against the kitchen counter. He leered at me and I felt cold sweat form on the back of my neck. He lost the grin and lunged toward me, grabbing my arm. "Where the fuck were you?" he seethed.
I could smell the stale alcohol on his breath and my throat tightened with panic. The episodes were always worst when my dad was drunk. I tried to free my arm and lurched backwards into a plaster bust of some ancient general. It fell to the floor and broke with a crash. My dad looked at the broken plaster on the hardwood floor and looked back at me. I pressed my back up farther against the wall and he drew himself up to his full height. My dad was a big guy, 6"3'. I, on the other hand, was a dismal 5"9' in comparison.
He let go of my arm and stepped back a bit, staring at me intently. I knew I should move, should run, but I couldn't. My legs wouldn't do what I wanted them to. He picked an empty bottle up off the table and toyed with it, turning it over a couple of times, all the while his eyes on me. The sound of breaking glass filled the room as he smashed the bottle on the table. He flashed a toothy grin and advanced on me, holding the bottle by the neck.
"Look what you've gone and done," he slurred angrily, grabbing me by the shirt collar and pushing me against the wall. "LOOK!"
"Dad, I'm sorry!" I blurted out. My voice was trembling.
"Sorry doesn't fix my statue, does it? Does it?!?" he screamed, waving the broken bottle toward the mess on the floor. I shook my head, eyes wide, too scared to say anything. He held me there, against the wall for a few more seconds. He glanced at the weapon in his hand and then looked at me. His eyes flashed with indecision. "I should fucking kill you," he sneered. My body stiffened, preparing for the blows. But they never came. He let me go and I collapsed. I heard him toss the bottle on the floor. "Lousy goddam waste," he muttered and stumbled to his room, leaving me there in a quivering heap on the floor.
Like so many nights before, I cleaned up the aftermath of our little brawl and went to my room to check myself out. I was fine, but it didn't make me feel any better. My dad hated me. I changed into my sweats and crawled into bed. My stomach rumbled. It was 7:00; seven hours since I had eaten last. I ignored it. I didn't feel like eating right now. I didn't feel like doing anything right now. Except sleeping.
BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ
My alarm clock broke me out of a fitful sleep. I rolled over and checked the time. 7:45. Just like yesterday. I pulled myself out of bed and went to the kitchen for some breakfast. Toast with peanut butter and a glass of milk. Breakfast of champions. As I ate, I thought about that dream last night. What a mindjob. I dreamed he almost cut me open with a broken bottle. How trippy is that? For a long time now, my dad had smacked me around, but he'd never dream of killing me. When I finished my food, I put my dishes in the dishwasher and went to throw the now-empty peanut butter jar in the garbage. I froze, jar in my hand just above the trash, when I saw what was inside.
Glass. Broken glass. And plaster pieces. With some kind of shape to them. No. I ran to the living room and looked where my dad's bust of General Lee was. It was gone. No, not gone, I corrected myself silently. In the trash. Which meant it wasn't a dream. It happened. All of it. The statue, the bottle, the threats. It all happened.
The room suddenly got small, small, small, and I felt my chest get tight. Jesus. My dad almost killed me last night. I had to conciously remind mysef to breathe. I was almost okay, when I heard him come down the stairs and into the kitchen for his morning cup of coffee. The kitchen was between my room and the living room. There was no way to avoid him.
I stepped out of the living room and quielty said, "Good morning, sir," in a voice that I hoped didn't betray me too much. A thin layer of sweat had broken out on my face and my hands wouldn't stop trembling.
He ignored me and took a long sip of the black liquid in his cup.
I walked hurriedly to the bathroom and made it just in time to heave up my breakfast. Every time I sat back to catch my breath, another wave of nausea would hit, and I'd be hunched over the bowl again. Soon, I had thrown up all my food and was just dry heaving. When the tremors finally subsided, I leaned back against the bathtub and closed my eyes. It's true, I thought. It really happened. Then another thought crept into my mind. One that had started the night before. He hates me. That realization almost crippled me more than the fear I had of him.
In the following weeks, the depression that had began that day struck with a vengeance. At first, I just cried by myself in my room a lot. My dad hated me. Every time I thought I was too numb to cry about it anymore, that thought would hit me like a brick wall and the tears would start again. As the days went on, I just wanted to stay curled up in my bed and forget that a world outside my walls existed. But, I had no choice. I had school and my dad wouldn't hear of it.
"I'm not paying school taxes to have you stay at home, you lazy shit! Now get your ass to school if you know what's good for you!"
Whatever. I didn't even try to avoid the beatings anymore. If they happened, they happened. They all blurred together now. A slap was a punch was a kick was a broken bone. It was easier this way. No more pathetic `It'll get better' hope. Acceptance. This was how things were.
One morning, I looked at my reflection in the mirror and felt nothing for the boy I saw there. Nothing. He looked back at me, dirty blond hair matted on one side from sleeping on it, hazel eyes hollow and dull staring out of a catatonic face riddled with bruises. I didn't care. Let the little shit fend for himself. I had to.
I got to school that day, late, as I had every day since that night. Mrs. McRae, my World Issues teacher, had asked me if anything was wrong yesterday after class. She said that I could come to her if I needed help with anything. I almost laughed in her face. What the hell could she do? We talked about the halted feminist movement in Afghanistan in class that day. Or rather, the class talked and I built pyramids with some rocks I found on my way to school.
When the period ended, Aaron, who was in my class, grabbed me by the arm and pulled me outside. We stopped at a wooded park not far from school. There were benches and picnic tables, lots of trees, a nice little place actually. Aaron sat me down on a bench and demanded to know what was going on.
"I've never seen you like this before, Ben, and I've known you my whole life. You're sleeping through class, you haven't been at soccer practice in almost 2 weeks, you ignore everybody and give them this big 'fuck you' attitude. You're out of control, man. You're NEVER out of control. I wanna know what's up." I leaned back against a tree and looked up at him. His jaw was set in a firm line and determination was in his eyes.
"Well?" he asked. I was silent. I just stared at him, feeling nothing, thinking nothing. Just staring.
"Ben." He sat down on the bench so he was at eye level. "Tell me what's wrong. Please?" His face had turned from determined to imploring. I didn't say a word. "Fine," he sighed, getting up. "You know where to find me if you wanna talk." With that, he went back to school alone.
I sat there in that park for some time, listening to the little kids play on the swings beyond the trees. I must have sat there for hours, because by the time I decided I wanted to go home, the sky, which had been bright and sunny that morning, was heavy with rain clouds just waiting to open up. I walked through my front door just as the rain began to fall.
Ben: Won't be home until tomorrow night. Find some food. Dad.
I crumpled up the note and stuffed it into the pocket of my jeans. Where had he gone? I wondered. I dismissed the thought as quickly as it had come. Didn't matter. I searched the cupboards for something for supper. Nothing I wanted. Didn't really feel like supper tonight anyhow. As I went to close the cupboard doors, a flash up on the top shelf caught my eye. Intrigued, I stood on my tiptoes and took it out. It was a bottle of rum. I shrugged. Might as well.
I wasn't a big drinker. In fact, I had never drank before in my life. So I put some ice in a glass and took a bottle of Coke into the living room to watch TV. The alcohol stung at the cuts in my mouth that hadn't healed from yesterday's beating. But the buzz I got was more than worth the pain.
After two or three drinks, I decided I was hungry after all. I half-walked, half-stumbled into the kitchen and found some chicken in the fridge, which I devoured. I felt much better after that, not so dizzy. I wondered if it was the alcohol that was making me dizzy or the fact that I hadn't eaten since yesterday. I went back into the living room and drank some more. I was watching a sitcom, Friends I think, when I heard the doorbell ring. By now, the rum had taken considerable effect on my sense of balance and I had to hold onto the wall to keep from falling down. I looked through the window and flung open to door with a smile.
"Austin!" The volume of my greeting surprised him and he took a step back.
"Hey, Ben," he said, recovered from his shock. Wow, he looked good. His black hair was plastered to his head and there was a puddle forming underneath the overhang where he was standing. "Can I come in?"
"No."
He looked confused. "Why not?"
"Because," I replied, poking a finger onto his chest with every word, "you're all wet." I kept a straight face for as long as I could (all of 2 and a half seconds) and then dissolved in a fit of laughter. "I'm just kidding, Austin. Come in, come in," I waved him in with my hand.
He came in, albeit slowly and with a wary look on his face. I let go of the door to let him in and fell forward into his chest. He grabbed my shoulders to hold me up and I maneuvered my feet so I could stand again. "Are you okay?" he asked.
I nodded. "Mmmhmm."
He shot me a quizzical look and sniffed the air. "Are you drunk?"
I made a face and scoffed. "Pfft. No. Well," I said, pinching my fingers together, "maybe a little bit." I walked to the living room and flopped down on the couch. Austin followed me and stared as I poured myself another drink.
"Where's your dad?" he asked in a stunned voice.
I shrugged. "I dunno," I slurred. "I think he's at work. The note didn't say." I took a sip of my drink and put it down. "You want a drink?" I offered. He shook his head. "Okay, I'm-- I'm gonna have another drink," I said, holding up my glass and bringing it to my lips.
"I think you've had enough to drink," Austin said, taking it from me and setting it on the table.
I narrowed my eyes at him and then shrugged. "Alright then." I closed my eyes and leaned back on the couch. Austin sat down in an easy chair. "So what's new, Austin?" I asked, and opened my eyes lazily.
"Not much, I just came by to visit."
"Aaron didn't send you?" I asked with disdain.
"Aaron? I just got back tonight, Ben. I was in Kelowna, remember?" Oh, yeah. I knew that. His family had gone to visit Michael, Austin's big brother. They had been gone for like, a week. "Why? What happened with Aaron?"
I yawned. "He says I'm `out of control'," I replied.
"Why? What'd you do?"
I was slow in answering, primarily because I was trying to focus on one Austin to talk to. He had split into three or four people. How'd he do that? I rubbed my eyes to clear them. "I dunno," I answered finally. There was a long pause.
"Ben," he started, then stopped, shaking his head. His voice had a reprimanding tone to it.
"What?" I didn't like where this was going.
"We both know that Aaron wouldn't imagine something like that. And I'm not stupid either. Look at you. You're drunk, for God's sakes. This isn't the Ben I know. What happened?"
I folded my arms across my chest and looked at the couch. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Well, I do!"
I snapped my eyes back toward him. His were flashing, defiant, daring me to challenge him. I got up off the couch and stalked angrily over to the chair, the dizziness and double vision only slight now. "You want to talk about it?" I asked. He nodded solidly. "You know what I want?" I grabbed him by the shirt and lifted him up out of the chair so he stood before me. "You know what I want?" I asked him again.
"What do you want?"
"This." I put my hands behind his head, drew him roughly to me, and kissed him. I don't know WHERE it came from. It must have been the alcohol. There was no way I'd ever have been able to do that under my own power. No fucking way. He put his hands on my chest and shoved me back, causing me to fall into the chair. I felt my heart rip into a thousand tiny pieces as I sat there, staring up at him staring down at me. My eyes welled up with tears and I felt sick.
"Oh, God," I stammered. "I'm so sorry, Austin. I... the rum... I... Oh, God, Austin, I'm so sorry." He grabbed me by the shirt and lifted me up, just like I had done to him moments before. I was sure he was going to kick the shit out of me so I braced myself for it and shut my eyes tight...
"Not like that," he whispered, and ran a hand through my hair. My eyes opened in confusion and he brought my face closer to his. "Like this." He touched his lips to mine lightly and kept them still for a moment. They began to move delicately over mine and I crumpled where I stood. He caught me by the ribs and pulled me back up, hugging my body close to his without breaking the kiss. I felt his tongue push against my lips and I opened my mouth eagerly. My tongue found his and they dueled intensely before relaxing and exploring the other's mouth. He tasted faintly like mint; real mint, not fake toothpasty mint. I moaned softly into his mouth and he hugged me tighter, running his hands up and down my back. He came up for air and leaned his forehead against mine, eyes closed, trying to catch his breath.
"Ben," he breathed shakily.
I covered his mouth with mine again and he scooped me up in his arms and headed down the hall to my bedroom. As soon as he laid me down on the bed, the power went out and we were immersed in blackness. The storm must have knocked down the lines. Austin felt around in the dark and began to nibble at my neck.
"Wait," I said, pushing him away and sitting up.
"What's wrong?"
"I want to see you."
I got up and fumbled in the dark for some candles and a lighter. I lit enough so that the room glowed dimly with flickering candlelight and went back to the bed, where Austin was sitting, watching me. I took his face in my hands and ran my eyes over it. It was like I was seeing him for the first time again. Dark blue eyes, almost black in this light, glowed faintly with something I couldn't read. His hair had almost dried by now and was sticking up in little tufts. His clothes were still wet, though, and I could make out every ripple of muscle beneath the fabric. My eyes roamed over every inch of him, trying to memorize his every feature, like I thought I'd never see him again.
"Much better," I said softly, leaning in for a kiss.
It was soft at first, and steadily grew more and more passionate until I was on top of him, covering his body like a blanket. I rubbed his nipples through his wet shirt and he moaned into my mouth, sending vibrations up and down my spine. He had his hands on my ass and pulled my crotch toward his. I gasped as our hard-ons rubbed together through strained fabric. It was incredible. Every cell in my body was on fire, exploding with unrestrained lust. I wanted him so bad.
I chewed gently on his left nipple, making it stand up under the wet material of his shirt and then repeated the process with the right one. "Oh, God, Ben," he moaned breathily. "Oh, God." Finally, I decided I had teased him long enough and lifted the wet shirt over his head. It landed with a whump on the floor somewhere. His skin was cool from the rain and wet clothes, but warmth emanated from him like he was on fire. I ran my lips over the contours of his body, pausing at his belly button to stick my tongue in. He moaned loudly and thrust his hips up at me. I smiled to myself. Mental note: Belly button's a good place to hang out.
I kissed my way down to the waistband of his jeans and undid the button. Slowly, I pulled down the zipper and slipped the pants off his slender frame. I nudged the tent in his boxers with my nose and Austin let out a sigh of pleasure. Wasting no time, I ripped the boxers off and dove on his cock. It was slick with salty precum and I savored the taste. He was a good size, at least in my opinion. I couldn't really say. It wasn't like I had a huge amount of experience or anything. But he was a good six inches. I barely managed to get it all in without gagging.
He pulled in a sharp breath and I glanced up at him, afraid for a second that I had hurt him. His eyes were shut lightly and he opened them when he felt me stop. He smiled gently to let me know it was okay and began to stroke my hair while I sucked his dick. Up and down and up and down I bobbed, until he was writhing with ecstasy.
"Ben," he panted as he got close. "Ben, I'm cumming, man." This was it. I plunged down on his cock as far as I could go and sucked hard. I felt his cock expand in my mouth and wave after wave of hot cum flew down my throat so fast I couldn't even taste it. Austin let out a scream as he came and thrust his hips up at my face. Austin's screams of pleasure were more than enough to do me in and I shot off in my boxers. I let out a low moan around his cock and tried to focus on swallowing. After his third shot, the flow slowed down to a trickle and I rolled a little of it around on my tongue to taste it. He tasted wonderful, an exotic mix of herbs and salt. I moved back up to his face and kissed him, probing my tongue deep into his mouth.
I moved my face back a little so I could look at him. His eyes were closed and he was starting to breathe normally again. His cheeks were flushed and rosy in the candlelight. I smiled and ran my hand along the side of his face. I didn't know someone could look that content or at peace with the world. It was beautiful.
He opened his eyes and gazed into mine dreamily. "That was amazing," he whispered.
"Yeah," I whispered back with a smile on my lips. "We'll definately have to try that again sometime." I slid off him and took off my clothes. They didn't feel right. Not with Austin. Naked, I cuddled up close to him and pulled the covers over us. "What time do you have to be home?" I asked, running my fingers through his ebony hair.
"My parents are in Kelowna for another day. I can stay as long as I like," he answered quietly. It was almost like talking too loud would ruin the atmosphere. "Ben?"
"Yeah, Austin?"
"How come you wanted the candles?"
"I wanted to be able to see you."
"Why?" He looked so innocent, asking me that, and it warmed my heart.
"Because," I told him, smiling a little, "you're beautiful, Austin. You have this 'thing' around you, this feeling I can see. In your eyes mostly. And it makes them sparkle. I can't really explain it. I just want to see you, Austin. Always."
He blushed and bowed his head into his chest shyly, then looked up again. "Ben?" he asked in a small voice. "Can I stay here with you tonight?"
I smiled and intertwined my feet with his. "You can stay as long as you like. Remember?"
He smiled and nodded. Then he closed his eyes and cuddled up even closer to me than he already was. "I really like you, Ben," he murmered sleepily into my chest.
I felt a lump the size of a softball form in my throat. "I really like you too, Austin," I whispered hoarsly.
We slept that night, our first night, wrapped in each other's arms. Outside, the wind howled and the rain came down in torrents. There was a steady hum as it fell from the sky and onto the pavement. It was a soothing, lullaby-like sound. My last concious thought was me wondering what I had done to deserve a blessing such as this.
Brennan's Ramblings: Whew! My longest chapter yet. And by far, the hardest. So, I, being the inexperienced writer, am in desperate need of feedback. To help you along, and quite possibly dig my own grave here, I even have questions for you, the readers. Check out the interactive online story writing business. Wow and stuff. Okay, guys, here we go. How was that sex scene? (It was my first. Could you tell?) I mean, really, how was it? Do you think it sounded fake, do you think it sounded forced, or was it passable? And the whole depression thing in the middle. Did I totally bomb that or was it okay? Oh yeah. And thank you so much to the girls in my science class: Erin, Christina, Sasha, Tina, Lindsay, Dayna, and Desarae from English. These wonderful people read it over for me and helped me work out all the kinks (and believe me, there were lots). Thank you to Sam, my oldest friend in the world (since we were four!). I love you, baby! A hundred thousand thanks to everyone who wrote me so far. I really appreciate it. Makes me feel all warm and gooey inside. Keep 'em coming! bjobse414@hotmail.com
The Recs: Oh, yeah. {smack} I almost forgot. I figured, you know, you's guys have been so great, reading my stuff and emailing me and all, I thought I'd let you in on a few gems I've found here at the glorious NIFTY ARCHIVES and maybe a couple other places. See, this way, I figure, if I write a really awful chapter and it leaves you, shall we say 'unfulfilled', you can try something else. Sound like a plan? Okay. Today, the recommendation is..... Leo and Jase in the Gay High School section of the Nifty Archives, the first gay story I ever read. It's a finished story. The last chapter was posted on Dec. 29, 2000, I think. Anyhow, I liked it a lot. Enjoy!