The Boy Next Door

• • • • • • • ATTENTION * * * * * * *

This story contains underage males in a consensual, romantic, and/or sexual relationship with one another. If such material offends you, please do not read any further. If such material is deemed illegal in your locality, please do not read any further. By continuing to read further, you, the reader, assume all consequences, civil and legal.

This story is fictional and does not aim to represent any person/persons living or dead. If any likeness to a real person, living or dead, is depicted within this story, it is purely coincidental and unintentional. This story is the property of me, the author, and is posted on the Archive with my permission. If you wish to use part/all of this story for any reason, please contact me.

As always, I look forward to your comments and suggestions. Thank you for choosing to read my story and I hope you enjoy! You may contact me at niftistoriboi@yahoo.com * * * * * * * YOU HAVE BEEN ADVISED * * * * * * *

• • • • • MESSAGE FROM THE AUTHOR * * * * *

Firstly, I want to thank everyone who read the first two installments, especially those that sent me a comment/question. Secondly, I want to thank you for your patience and to apologize to everyone for making you wait so long for the next installment. The last few weeks have been hectic, and I have found little time to devote to creating this complicated story. Thirdly, I want to take a moment to remind everyone about the wonderful work that is being done via the Nifty Archive. We, the authors, are able to publish our stories in a safe, non-judgmental area of the web for free. You, the readers, are able to read said stories also for free. However, the Archive needs funds to operate. Please visit http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html to make donations. * * * * * THANK YOU * * * * *

"The Boy Next Door, Part III: I Love You" by Nifti Stori Boi

I left the house, my mind in a whirl. I was on my way next door to Mark's house. I had talked to him the evening before and asked to come. He did not have a problem with me coming by, as usual. Though we lived yards apart, it felt as if it were inches; before I knew it I was at the front door.

I knocked, and waited. His father, Robert, answered. He merely stood aside and let me pass in silence. Mark and I were such frequent visitors to each other's homes that it was second nature to our families to accept us. I went back to Mark's room and knocked on his door, and after a moment, it opened.

"Hey, Matt." Mark walked back inside of his room and I followed. "What are you up to today?"

"Nothing much," I muttered.

"Same here." Mark went back to the desk he had in his room. He absentmindedly played with the mouse even though the computer was not on.

"Is something wrong, " I asked.

"Not really. Just thinking about Alex. He was running his mouth yesterday."

Alex was one of our classmates from school as well as one of Mark's teammates from baseball. I found him to be a grade-A jerk. Sometime, Mark did as well. Today appeared to be one of those times.

"Was he saying anything interesting?"

"No," Mark answered, still sliding the mouse around on the pad. "Just the same old stuff."

"The usual things about you not having a girlfriend and spending nearly all of your free time with me?" That had been Alex's favorite refrain with Mark over the past few weeks.

"Yep." Mark quite with the mouse and sat on the edge of his bed.

I went over to him and sat down beside of him. "That is something I want to talk to you about. Actually, it is the reason that I came over this morning."

Mark turn a little and faced me. "What do you mean?"

I took a deep breath. My mind was racing. I had gotten here, I had begun the conversation. Yet, there was still a lock holding everything back. I was not so much afraid as frozen.

"What do you mean," Mark repeated. He was now looking at me intently. "Alex is an ass. He says a lot of BS. Don't pay any attention to him."

Mark continued looking at me. "I mean, don't worry about him. Or anyone else. We're friends. We like hanging out with each other. Besides, girls are to much work. Rachael is enough to nearly drive me crazy and she's only my sister. I HAVE to spend time with her."

I gave a small chuckle at that. Mark continued, with a slight smile. "So, neither one of us has a girlfriend at the moment. Big deal. It doesn't bother me. Does it bother you?"

"No," I answered honestly. "It does not bother me one bit."

"Good."

Mark continued to look at me for another moment or two. I finally found my voice to say what I had came to say.

"No, it does not bother that I do not have a girlfriend because I do not want one. I will never want one."

That was as much as I could get out. My mouth was dry. I could feel beads of sweat breaking on my forehead. It felts as if my stomach were playing jump-rope with my intestines. Nothing more would come out of my mouth; all that I could do now was to wait for Mark's response.

He continued to sit in silence - continued looking at me. It seemed as if hours were going by. In reality, it had only been a handful of seconds. Finally, after an agonizing wait that I was sure was going to kill me, he said something.

"What makes you say that?"

I swallowed, at least I tried to. Nothing happened due to my mouth being so dry from my nerves.

"It is true," I said with half a crack in my voice. "I want a boyfriend."

The whole conversation I had continued to stare ahead of me. I knew that if I looked at Mark, at those beautiful blue eyes, that I could not go through with it. Still, I could see him out of the corner of my eye. That was enough to keep me in a nervous wreck. I could see him as he cocked his head sideways a little.

"You serious," he asked softly.

Some of the nerves that were on edge took a step back. The softness, the geniune concern he seemed to be displaying was such a relif to hear. I had been expecting anger, hatred, resentment.

"Yes." I waited for his response. I continued to not look directly at him.

"Oh," he said. It was now his turn to look away from me. "I did not know that."

"I know," I said as I tried to get myself through the rest of what I had came to say. "There is something else that you do not know." That was all that I could get out for the time being. We sat in silence for a few more moments.

Finally, Mark spoke. "What? What else do I not know?"

I tried to speak. I opened my mouth, though nothing would come out. Mark turned back to face me. I tried again, and again, nothing emerged. I felt his hand land on my shoulder.

Instinctively, I turned to face him. I saw in those beautiful eyes concearn and curiosity.

"What is it," he prompted once again. "You are starting to scare me, what is it?"

That was the last thing that I wanted to do to him. I braced myself and said it as quickly as I could. "I wantyouasmyboyfriend!"

"What?!"

"I want you as my boyfriend," I repeated more slowly. Then, I waited, because I knew this would be the ultimate test. Mark may have take the first part of my news somewhat well, this, however, was sure to reveal his true feelings on the subject. The fact that I saw him in a romantic, even sexual, way was sure to show whether or not such things disturbed him. After all, me seeing other boys in such a way may not bother him, but this was him, Mark himself, we were now talking about.

Mark removed his hand from my shoulder. He stood, and walked away from the bed were I remained sitting. He stood, staring out of the bedroom window. I sat still, my chest feeling like a vice was squeezing, crushing it; the hot sting in the corners of my eyes threatened tears; I wanted to run, to go away from this situation. I could not have went anywhere, my limbs were paralyzed with anxiety as my tongue had been minutes before then.

Mark finally returned from the window. He sat beside of me once more. "I'm sorry."

I looked at him. He was staring at the floor. He glance at me for less than a second before returning his gaze to his feet.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I like you as a friend, a good friend, but not THAT way."

I was dumbfounded. The anxiety was replace with total confusion. This was not the response I had expected. Now, I understood why sixteen-year-old-Adam had looked at me with such confusion after I caught him kissing Jordan.

"What?" I continued staring at Mark, waiting for something more. "You are not... uh... bothered by what I said? You do not mind the fact that I like, like you?"

He shook his head a little. "No. I thought that you might."

I continued staring at him, now in disbelief. All of the anxiety, the worrying about what his reaction would be, whether he would beat me to a bloody pulp was for nothing. He had suspected all along.

"I see the way you look at me sometimes. It's the same as Rachael's girlfriends. I thought I might be imagining things. Or, maybe you were just comparing me to you. I don't know." He continued staring at the floor. After a few seconds, he razed his head and looked at me. There were tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry I don't like you that way."

I laughed. I laughed, not at him, at the relief. I felt as if I were on top of the world. Everything seemed to be going better than I could have hoped. Mark did not take it that way. He looked as if I had insulted him, had hurt him.

"I am sorry for laughing," I said while still trying to stop laughing. "I did not expect you to be the one crying!" Mark turned his head a little, slightly confused as I continued, "I thought you were going to be yelling at me. If not yelling, then at least not wanting to talk to me, to be around me. I was not expecting this. I was not expecting you to be upset for not feeling the same way about, that you still wanted me as a friend."

Suddenly, the dark clouds of anxiety and fear returned. He had not said that he still wanted to be friends. In fact, he had said nothing about wanting to have anything more to do with me.

"DO you still want to be friends," I asked, afraid of what his answer would be.

"Of course!" He looked at me and I saw anger in his eyes. "Of course I do." He looked away for a moment. "I just do not have those feelings for you - the feelings you have for me."

The sky cleared and I was back on top once more. We sat in silence for a while. I could not stop grinning. I looked over at Mark. I had been to nervous to notice him properly.

He had on a shirt that looked to be a size to small, his muscles were evermore present than usual. His blond hair was sort of shaggy looking, though not too bad. And, of course, there were his beautiful blue eyes, my favorite part. My Narcissus sat there in all of his splendor.

Mark looked back at me. He must have felt my lingering gaze on him. He gave a weak smile. "You are not mad that I don't want to be your boyfriend?"

"No," I said while still grinning like a Cheshire. "I would have liked it to be that way. This is the next best thing. I can live with that if you can."

"Good," he said, he seemed to feel a little better at that. I, meanwhile, had an odd feeling. I had not expected to be trying to cheer him up. I had expected that I would be the one needing cheering-up after our talk.

An obvious thought entered my mind. "Do YOU like girls?"

Mark looked at me for a moment before answering. "I don't know. I haven't really had any feelings either way."

I thought about that for a moment. "Well, do you ever watch porn or jerk off."

He turned his head a little so as not to be directly looking at me. I could tell I had embarrassed him by asking something so personal. After all, it was not something the two of us talked about. There had always been an unspoken agreement that the immature jerks at school were obsessed with sex, not us. We had always stuck very much to the platonic.

"Yes," Mark answered while his face went slightly red.

"Um...," now it was my turn to feel embarrassed. I had spoken without really thinking too much about what I was saying. "Well, do you watch stuff with girls? Do you think about girls when you are, uh... alone?"

Mark simply nodded. After a second he said, "And sometimes guys."

That was it, now I felt higher than on top of the world. Mark did not have a romantic interest in me at the moment, but who knows about the future. There was hope.

"I will still love you even if you turn out liking disgusting, nasty girls."

He looked at me with a smile. It was nice to see him like that given all that had been said, and felt, by both of us.

"I love you, too. Cocksucker."

We both laughed at that. After we had stopped laughing, Mark wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him. He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.

"I mean it," he began, "I really do love you. You are my best friend."

"I love you, too," I said as I returned the kiss to him.

We sat there for a few moments, holding each other and simply living in our mutual love of each other. It was not kinky or sexual. It was simply love. Mark pulled out of our embrace too soon for my liking.

"Dad wants me to go with him to get a part for the lawn mower," Mark said as he stood up. "I'll come over later, after we get through."

"See you then," I said as I stood and gave him another quick hug. I went back to his door and opened it. I waved goodbye in response to his confirmation of seeing me upon his return. I left his house and went back home. I knew everything was going to be okay.