Donnie Comes Out

By Charles Hughes (Mike Angelo)

Published on Nov 9, 2007

Gay

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This story is completely fiction, describing the relationshiop of two teens, including some sexual experiences. If you are not 18, or if this type of material is not to your liking, or if it is illegal for any reason for you to read this story, you are to leave now.

Copyright 2007 Charles Hughes, all rights reserved. If you wish to copy, please, just ask.

I try to answer all emails: the.empty.room@hotmail.com

DONNIE COMES OUT

Donnie and I had been friends since middle school, though we didn't see a lot of each other since we went to two different schools. We lived in town, and Donnie went to the middle school for the rest of the county. We knew each other through church, and we had a lot of fun in the youth group. At summer camp for those two years, people sometimes called us "The Brothers" since we were always together.

Looking back, I'd have to say that there wasn't anything at all that would have made me suspicious, not even when we showered together at camp. We were just two boys, two friends.

When high school started, though, we went to the same school. We were both excited about it, expecting to spend much more time with each other. We didn't exactly talk about it that way, but I know that was in both our minds. Both of us decided that we'd join the school choir our freshman year. We had to auditon for it. I was certain Donnie would make it, because he had a wonderful voice. I wasn't as certain about myself, so I was very relieved when I made the cut, too.

The choir met during the school day, but occasionally there were extra rehearsals in preparation for a state contest after some short tours. Those rehearsals were on Saturday mornings, so our parents made arrangements that Donnie could stay at our house in town Friday and Saturday nights -- assuming that we both got our weekend homework done before Monday morning. He would then go to church with us and go home with his folks.

Being a cool high school student -- though only for about six weeks at the time -- I played down my excitement at having my good/best friend spend a whole weekend with me. We settled in to get our homework done on Friday afternoon and evening, then watched a movie in my room. I just had a single bed, and Donnie had brought a sleeping bag to use. We went to bed wearing only our briefs, and I had expected that since that was how we had slept at camp.

During the night something awoke me. The room was pretty dark, but I thought I could see some movement in Donnie's sleeping bag. I felt a little embarrassed when I realized that he was probably jacking off. Then I grinned and slid my hand down inside my briefs to do the same. We had rarely spoken of it except to joke about it, but we both knew that jacking off was just what guys did when they got horny. I admit I was somewhat turned on when I heard his muffled grunts as he came. I came about the same time.

The next morning, and really for the first time, I was very curious about Donnie's dick. I had seen it, of course, when we had showered at camp, but that had been over a year ago. We didn't feel awkward about going into the bathroom at the same time, one of us to brush his teeth while the other showered. Neither one of us stopped at the toilet to piss because, like at camp, we assumed we would piss when it was our turn to shower. I had been pissing in the shower ever since our first summer at camp.

I was the host, so I offered to brush my teeth and let Donnie take the first shower. I watched him in the mirror as he turned his back. He pulled his briefs down to reveal the butt I'd seen a number of times before. I suddenly realized that Donnie might have hair around his dick; neither one of us had the last time we were naked in a shower. He stepped into the shower and slid the door shut, so I didn't see him from the front.

His shower was quick, and when he slid the door open to get a towel I got a good look at his dick. I was impressed, I'll admit. It was bigger than the last time I saw it, but then mine had grown since then, too. And he had begun to grow some hair, a bit more of it than I had.

I felt my dick pressing against the dried cum inside my briefs. I was getting a bit hard, but then that had happened to us sometimes in the camp shower before. For some reason I did not want Donnie to see me that way now.

His dick was swinging around as we traded places in the bathroom, but I waited until my back was to him before I stripped. As I slid the shower door closed, however, I glanced at him one more time and was surprized to see that his cock was much harder. He was back in the bedroom when I got out of the shower.

After the choir practice, we decided to go to a movie at the mall. We'd grabbed a quick lunch first, and we spent the remainder of the afternoon wandering around the mall until my mom picked us up. I sat across the table from him at supper feeling very pleased, for some reason, that Donnie was my friend.

He was a very good looking guy. His hair was dark brown, and his big brown eyes were his best feature. He was slender but pretty toned from the summer. And his summer tan still had a glow to it. I hid a grin as I realized that I had just described myself, too! They had called us "The Brothers" at camp for a good reason.

We watched a little TV in my room that evening, but we spent a lot of time talking. We compared notes about everything -- people at school, classes, teachers, the choir, movies, music. We talked a lot about our families, too -- we were both only children. I felt good that we could say things to each other that we would never had said to anyone else. We could confide, because we trusted each other.

There were two more weekends like that before Christmas and another one in January. During the Christmas break, though, I had spent a weekend at his house. That had been a very different experience, since they lived on a farm. He had obviously been proud of what he had been able to show me around the place, and I was pleased that he was happy.

By the end of January there was no question in my mind -- or in his, I suppose -- that we were the best friends in the world.

The first choir tour was the first weekend in February. We were to go to one high school each day from Wednesday through Friday. It meant three days away from school and three nights in motels.

We sounded great the first night. We went to the motel and got our room assignments -- four guys to a room -- and then ate at a restaurant. I guess we felt very masculine, sitting around in our briefs watching TV in that motel room. Donnie and I had managed to get assigned to the same room, and, though we didn't say so, we were very pleased about that.

I did wonder about the sleeping arrangements. We wound up in the same double bed, which seemed natural enough. Billy and Josh, our roommates, were also friends, and we all got along well together. I had a fleeting thought of Donnie's jacking off sometimes at my house, of the hard dick I'd sometimes seen in our bathroom, but there was nothing at all unusual about that night. Nor the next.

On Friday night, however, I woke aware that something was different. I was lying on my left side, and I could feel Donnie's body against my back. That didn't feel awkward to me, though I would have been uncomfortable if the other two guys had known about it. As Donnie shifted in bed, though, he came a little closer. I was sure that it was coincidence -- at least unintentional -- but his legs were beginning to press into mine a bit. I simply moved away and drifted off to sleep.

On the next tour, which was only one night away from home, we didn't share the same room.

There were two other weekends that Donnie spent at my house after the second tour. They were fun. We were best friends, and we did things that best friends enjoy together. We laughed a lot, but then, we always did.

The big state contest was the highlight of the year for the choir. We would be away from home for three days and two nights. We were hoping, of course, that we would be assigned to the same room for those two nights. We were suprised to learn that we would be staying in a big hotel instead of a motel. And we were pleased to learn that, because of the number of people and room availability, Donnie and I would be sharing a room by ourselves.

The first day was very busy, so a lot of the people went to their rooms early. We did, too. We stripped to our briefs, as we always did on those occasions, opened the sodas we'd gotten in the hallway, and sprawled out on one of the double beds to watch a movie. There was something of a sex scene in it, nothing like porn but still showing some skin.

Right after that scene, Donnie went into the bathroom and closed the door. That he was certainly jacking off didn't bother me in the least. Before we went to bed, I did the same thing.

We got into separate beds; that just seemed to be logical, since there were two there. Despite the busy day, we both lay awake in the semi-dark room, and we talked, as we often had when we were alone together. I had never felt as comfortable around anyone as I did around Donnie.

He began telling me about how difficult it was for him to fit in at school, and that didn't make a lot of sense to me. I thought he seemed to fit in well. He certainly had friends, as many as I did, and he certainly got along with everyone. Nobody could be any nicer to you than Donnie could.

I just didn't understand what he was getting around to. In retrospect, maybe I should have. I just did not see it coming. I simply did not see it coming.

He told me he was gay.

I felt cold chills run over me when he said that. Gay? Donnie? No! He stopped speaking and was obviously waiting for me to say something. I said the first thing that came into my mind.

I told him he was mistaken, he couldn't be queer. He was as normal as anybody else. He was not going to be queer, a fag, he was wrong.

I'd never heard such a loud silence.

I wanted no part of such a thing. What else could I say? My best friend, my "brother," a queer? No way. It would not happen.

When he finally spoke I could hear the tears in his voice. He talked about friendship and needing support and trusting and a lot of other stuff. I wanted no part of supporting a queer! And friends with one? I would never get along at school if people found out I was friends with a queer.

I stopped him. I told him to shut up. If he wanted to fuck up his own life, that was his business, but to leave me out of it.

I told him if he said anything to anyone else about being a faggot he was not to mention me as a friend. I was not the friend of a queer.

I couldn't go to sleep.

I finally got up around four in the morning, showered and went down to the 24-hour coffee shop. I couldn't tell if Donnie was asleep when I left or not.

We got through the day by not speaking to each other except when absolutely necessary.

The choir got three firsts in three tries. The final was that evening. We did great. Donnie had a solo part, and he wasn't quite as good as usual, but we still got a first. I sat next to someone else to eat supper. I hung out in some other guys' rooms until really late. I was hoping he'd be in bed asleep when I got to our room.

I was a mess all night. I don't know how many times people asked me if I felt okay. I snapped at people, used language I normally didn't. I sat down in the lobby after everybody else had gone to bed, and I felt more terrible than I ever had in my life. I had lost my best friend. He'd deserted me. It was worse than desertion. He'd betrayed me.

When I finally got into the room and into bed, I couldn't hold back anymore. I jerked my shoes and socks, my pants and shirt off and threw them somewhere into the darkness. I was so angry I threw myself onto the bed, punched the pillow and tried to keep the tears away. I turned away from the other bed and tried to pretend he wasn't even there.

A long, long time later, I felt the bed shift as Donnie sat on the edge. I tensed. I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't want him to say a word. I wanted him to go away.

After a long silence, I wondered if he was still there. Then I felt his hand on my side. I tried to shake it off, but he just left it there.

"I've never known anyone I've respected more," he said quietly. "I've never understood how I deserved someone like you as a friend. When they called us "The Brothers," I was thrilled. I loved being seen with you, known as your friend. I've always felt I could say anything to you, be completely honest. I've trusted you the way I've never trusted anyone else."

Then silence.

The weight of his hand was becoming unbearable.

"I wouldn't have told you," he continued, " but I couldn't not tell you. I wouldn't be fair to you. I want only what is best for you, and if it's best that we not be friends... I can take that; I'll have to. But it's not fair -- not fair to you, not fair to me -- for me to leave it at that. You have to know it all. You're the best friend I could ever have; I'll never have another friend like you. I've always known that, somehow. I'll always be grateful for your friendship. It's meant so much to me. You need to know that. You need to know... You need to know that I love you."

The sound that tore from my throat was as painful to feel as it was to hear.

I rolled over into his arms. I cried, and I couldn't stop. I held him close and tight, and my tears were running from my face to his shoulder. I cried endlessly. My chest was heaving, and I was gasping for breath. I cried because I couldn't not cry.

My crying slowed only because I had no more energy for it. That's when I realized he'd been crying, too.

I raised my head and looked at the best friend I'd always loved. Our lips touched, then parted. Our tongues met tentatively, then widly. Our hands raced over each other as we kissed almost viciously. We rolled closer together, clinging to each other as though we were afraid we'd lose what we'd just discovered.

Our bodies slid over each other, pressing hard, moving rapidly, grinding into eachother. We sucked each other's breath out and gave it back.

My fingers clutched at his back, and I felt his nails scratching into mine. We ground ourselves together, as though we desperately need to become one person, not two. The most painful, intense orgasm suddenly filled my briefs over and over with my cum, and I became aware that his cock was filling his, too.

I ate his mouth -- I pounded against his groin -- I cried. We fell apart. I could hardly breathe. My chest was pounding. I felt lightheaded. I felt absolutely free.

I felt his hand searching for mine, and I grasped it as though my life depended on hanging on to it. I turned my head to see that he was looking at me.

Even in the semi-darkness, I could see the tears on his cheeks. It was the face of the one I had always been with, even before I understood it. It was the face of my other.

"I love you, Donnie."

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