Frozen (c) 2004-2005 Mychyl Kime (KimeNet Corp.)
This is a work of fiction, depicting teenage males in romance and/or sexual positions. The people depicted in this story (to the best of the author's knowledge) do NOT exist... in the rare case that they're based on real people, the names HAVE been changed... not so much as to protect the innocent as to spare the poor people listed within the unnecessary fame this story might bring to them... not that I'm saying lots of people will read this, or even people where I've lived, but there's always a slight chance... And these events are, for the most part, all the imagination of the author, although I've seen the events depicted many, many times. And by the way, the places used within do exist, and are easily as evil as depicted herein...
If you are under 18 years of age (or whatever the legal age in your area is) you must leave. Of course, I can't very well make you leave... but if you choose to stay, DON'T GET CAUGHT! It is neither my fault, nor the fault of this wonderful site, if you get caught running around here.
Also, if you are repulsed by the concept of homosexual romance and/or sex, please feel free to leave at any time. In fact, now would be a good time. But hey, it's your call, of course... I can't make you leave, either... but if you choose to stay, feel free... who knows, you might even change your mind! My only question is: why are you here if that's the case?
This is a new story, "completely independent" of my older work; if you are interested in that, it's in HighSchool/The_Dance and HighSchool/ Dear_Diary_Series. (As it's been a while since I wrote those, you may need to enter the addresses manually. Unless you like scrolling for a long time. Conversely, the Search Page option in IE (dunno about the others) seems to work nicely as well.) In all reality, while this IS an independent work, there may be some references in this story which corollate to the others, and if you plan on reading all three (so far), you may wish to start with The Dance. That way, no spoilers. See?
Please feel free to email me with your comments/suggestions. My email is: jasani666@hotmail.com (my old ones were claimed by hostile takeover, care of a hack/infection). Or, if you'd prefer, you can IM me on the chance you catch me online (which is off and on, depending on the time of day and whether or not I'm working, though with the power of cell mobility, this is changing for you MSN/Yahoo IM junkies...):
AIM: AvatarSinestre
MSN: jasani666@hotmail.com
Y!M: pbw_darkscape
ICQ: 21009696
IRC: (irc.nevernet.net:6667 room XYchat last I knew) WyldChylde
XY!: WyldChylde chat only now JasaniAvatar chat and profile
BLOG livejournal.com/users/jasaniavatar
And now, without further delay:
~~ Chapter 2 ~~
School continued, much as it always does. The fact that I even bother to continue attending should be good enough for these morons, who are clearly bent on chaining my mind to their points of view and their beliefs. Not likely, though they can keep trying all they'd like. It's not gonna work.
Long story short, the end of the day rolled around, and I could barely take three steps before I'm being pounced on from behind, with enough force given that I'm surprised to knock me to the ground.
"Ow!" I yelled, more from surprise than anything, "what the fuck!?"
Before I can move, Tyler leans over my head, his face split in an upside-down grin. "Hey, Chris!" he said loudly, pissing me off. EVERYONE called me Chris, and I hated it. My first name was Damien... why couldn't people get over it and call me by it, instead of my middle name? "You ready to go?"
I got up quickly, dumping him unceremoniously to the ground, and dusted myself off, pulling myself back into order. The kid was definately gonna be annoying, as usual, but since I'd already said yes, I could hardly say no, now could I? It wouldn't be right. And while I'm the one who wants to be alone and left alone, more than anything, it still wouldn't be right to ignore him after telling him we'd hang out. I groaned inwardly and took off, leaving him to try and keep up, his shoes slapping audibly against the concrete.
When we got to my house, I was greeted by silence. Remarkable, since I fully expected someone, anyone, to be home when I got there. Of course, the silence lasted MAYBE a full five seconds before Tyler started on about whatever random drivel poured out first, setting up my Playstation and clicking a game into place, switching in one of his memory cards.
Reluctantly, I took my usual chair, leaving him to grab a chair from the table in the kitchen to sit in. The game loaded... another stupid fighting game, as usual. His obsession with fighting games knew no bounds. I sighed, slouched in my seat, and settled in for boredom.
An hour and a couple cigarettes later, the kill count was 8-2, his lead, and I was about bored, so I reached up and shut off the power to the console. And nothing.
At this point, I expected wailing, tears, displeasure, complaining... nothing. I looked at him, and strangely, I saw a weird look in his eyes... then he saw that I was looking, and quickly glanced away. And I'll be damned, but for an instant, I thought I saw him flush a bright red.
However, the moment passed, and whatever I'd missed, it wasn't continuing, since he quickly grabbed the game out of the PS, then went to the kitchen. I heard the cabinets doors opening and closing quickly, which usually meant he was looking for snacks, then the fridge opening. With a sigh, I walked over to the couch and opened my backpack, digging through for my homework. With him stuffing his face, at least I'd have a chance to get it out of the way relatively quickly, and when he took off, I could go back to playing games I actually liked, instead of catering to him and his stupid games.
I heard him walk back into the living room, then stop at the doorway, and I glanced up. In each hand, he had a plate of chips and sandwiches, and somehow he'd managed to balance two bottles of soda between them, like some sort of magic trick. Surprised, if only a bit, I walked over to him, accepting my plate and soda and actually thanking him as I walked with it back to the couch.
"Aww, you don't wanna play anymore?" he asked, almost petulant, as he came over by me, sitting on the couch instead of in front of the TV.
"No, I need to get my homework done now," I said, in as close to a dismissive tone as I could manage at the moment, and purposefully started walking towards my bedroom door.
"That's OK, I need to do mine still too... we can play more afterwards." I could almost SEE the grin on his face, just from the tone of his voice, and I realized he'd planned out the entire afternoon, all of it devoted to torturing me... but then I remembered the food and soda, and I realized that maybe, just maybe, he might not be so difficult to deal with after all. If nothing else, I could always have him run to the kitchen...
While on this train of thought, I'd entered my room, letting him inside for what was probably the first time, and he stopped to stare at the walls...
OK, yea. I said I'm gay, and to anyone who doesn't have their head buried up their ass, my room proves it. Posters of hot guys plastered all over my walls, with the smaller magazine clipping-ones stuck wherever any white showed on the walls. The end result was my room now: hot guys, on every wall, watching me, and me, sleeping under their gazes, wishing that one of them would come rescue me from this Hel which was my life right now.
"Wow..." he whispered, almost entranced, and as I turned to look at him, his eyes were dancing from one guy to the next, as though judging them. Not the response I was expecting, but I was glad of that... he was almost bearable, and alienating him with my walls, while fun for a minute, might not prove as fun later on, when he might tell his mother just how my room was decorated. She would guess, I figured.
Without further ado, I settled onto my bed, books and binder out before me, and he sat at my desk right next to the bed, working on his math homework. Time passed, slowly as it always does when doing homework, but before I knew it, it was getting too dark in the room to read, and I was reaching for the lightswitch.
As the light came on, I glanced over at Tyler, confused by his silence... which is probably only natural, since this was the longest he'd been quiet since I'd met him... and saw his head down, facing me with his eyes closed. With a long-suffering sigh, I walked over to him and shook him awake.
"Wake up, kid... it's homework-time, not sleeptime," I chided, not feeling all that gruff at the moment, and was rewarded when he started stirring.
"Damien... love ya..." he mumbled, as he slowly awoke...
~~~*~
Well, there we are, the second chapter! And it only took me forever to do!
Sorry, devoted fans (old and new), but my mind hasn't been well for writing romantically lately. However, the cracks and tears mend, and I'm ready to go again, it would seem. ^^
A special thanks, and public humiliation by giving him a shoutout, to TJ, without whose prodding I likely wouldn't've gotten the spirit to write more.
(And no, all my other fans, your pokings and proddings helped too... but he's the cutest, plus he pushed hardest and asked most, so he gets special recognition.)
Hopefully, Chapter 3 should be ready within the next week or so... I've got a section from it written (or at least I plan on using it in Chapter 3, if there's a good place to put it), and I like it a lot. So, yea.
As always, love than fanmail, like that criticism (as long as it doesn't go like "you suck"), and those flames... yea... my special email for flames is flame@microsoft.com. Send it there.
Also, IMs always loved. See above for those addys. Til next time!
~Mychyl