Wes and Steven

By J

Published on Feb 1, 2003

Gay

Controls

Disclaimer: You know what this is, the following story contains consensual sex between minors, it's not true, none of the people involved are real, and resemblance to a real person is coincidental, oh yeah, and some drug use. That covers everything, right? Enjoy.

WES AND STEVEN

Some people say that love at first sight is a myth. For the most part, I believe them. What is often confused with love at first sight, is actually simply lust at first sight. Lust is purely physical, and it's really impossible to love someone without knowing anything about them or talking about them. I admit, with Steven, it was lust... but after finally talking to him for the first time, and placing a voice and personality with his pure good looks, it quickly became more. But, I'm moving too fast, let me start from the beginning. My name is Wes. I'm 16 years old, and a sophomore at a not too small, not too big high school, in a not too small, not too big town in Missouri. I'm average height, about 5'6 or so. I have pretty plain light brown hair, the style of which varies with mood, usually I'm too lazy to do much to it, and so, I settle with the gelled up messy look. I have hazel eyes that turn a beautiful shade of green when I wear certain colors, which I try to wear exclusively. I have a pretty slim build, no rippling biceps or anything, but i'm not fat either. I'm not too big into sports, but I get pretty exercise, usually swimming or shooting hoops in my driveway. I tend to be pretty quiet and shy most of the time, I like to be alone and keep to myself, and I make it a point not too open up too much to anyone, aside from a couple close friends. And, I'm gay. I know I've always been gay, just like every other gay person on earth does, whether they admit it or not. It's not something that I can blame on a certain event, or a chemical imbalance, or the way I was raised. It's just the way I am. Just like someone has blue eyes or likes green beans but not carrots, or women but not men. It's just one of those things.

Steven first came to my school about halfway through sophomore year, his dad packed up the family to move because of a transfer with the company he worked for. The first time I saw Steven was in the hallway, as I said before, my school's not small, but it's not huge, and it's not hard to recognize mostly everyone, and notice someone who's new. When I saw Steven, he fitted my "type" pretty closely. I estimated him to be around 15, yet looking a few years younger. He was a bit short than me, and he was blonde, which was one of my main turn ons. Fake or natural, blonde is blonde, and it's always struck my interest. Maybe it's the slow disappearance of natural blondes in the world, or maybe it's just the way it makes a person glow, I don't know, but I love it. He had the same casual, comfortable taste in clothes as he, dressed in a pair of relaxed jeans and a hooded sweatshirts, one of my own favorite ensembles. As I passed him, time seemed to slow down just for me, so I could get a nice good look. As he drew nearer, he glanced towards me, his light blue, almost gray eyes meeting mine. I smiled a bit, speaking casually as I passed him.

"Hey..." It was the standard high school greeting, and it worked for best friends, strangers, acquaintances, and just about anyone else. He gave a shy smile accompanied by the quick standard response, another "hey". I saw him a couple more times through the mid morning and early afternoon, but kept quiet, not wanting to come off as a obsessive stalker or something. And then, during the next to last class of the day, fate dealt me a winning hand, and the newest student in my geography class was none other than Steven. As he scanned the room for an empty seat, he move towards the one next to me! I reasoned that it must have been my greeting earlier. I established myself as a "good guy" and I was probably the only person who had done so, thus, I was the closest thing to a friend he had yet. He didn't seem like the preppy sporty time who made friends right off the bat, he had to work on it like the rest of us. He sat down, putting his notebook and another book I couldn't make out the title of on the desk. Let me explain a few things about geography class. The teacher was one of those guys who was fresh out of college and concentrating more on coaching the football team than teaching geography class, thus, it was more like study hall without studying and mostly with talking and doing whatever else besides studying. A couple minutes into this, Steven caught onto this after seeing everyone in class talking, reading, goofing off, or, like I was, listening to music and minding my own business. He picked up the previously unknown book and started reading, I glanced over to it and saw it was "The Beach", the book that eventually became the movie, which, as fate would have it, was one of my favorite books. I removed the headphones and engaged in some conversation.

"Good book, it's one of my favorites." I said casually, flipping through some CDs. Steven looked over to me and smiled a bit.

"Mine too, I must have read it at least ten times." He closed it and set it down, as if motioning that he didn't mind pausing for some conversation. A good sign so far. Throughout the class, introductions we made, information exchanged, and new friends found. He had a lot in common, movies, books, TV shows, even little things like liking the same salad dressing and brand of shoes made it even clearer to me that this was evolving from lust to love. Even if was just me being in love with him, it was more than I had before. But then again, one sided love could be more painful than lack thereof. A week or so after this initial conversation, from which many more spawned, I got my driver's license. What a joyous occasion for any teenager. My grandmother gave me her recently replaced old Oldsmobile in exchange for years of faithful lawn mowing. And so, having a license and a car, I was set. So, looking for any chance I could find to make use of my new assets, Steven and I arranged for me to pick him up for school in the morning, and give him a ride home in the afternoon. His 16th birthday was still a couple months away, so he was more than grateful for the arrangement. One cold January afternoon, after school, I stopped in front of Steven's house to drop him off, and happened to notice no cars in the driveway, and the house looking rather empty. As Steven retrieved a key from his backpack, I asked.

"Is anyone home?"

"No, on Thursdays my dad works late, it's been that was as long as I can remember, I'm just glad he doesn't still think I need a babysitter." As he moved to get of the car, I lightly placed my hand on his shoulder, feeling the gentle shock of warmth, the feeling of being so close to someone you secretly loved and was so fortunate to be so close to. But, the mixed blessing with being so close, was the feeling back in the depths of your mind that it may be as close as you'll get.

"Why don't we go do something? No reason to sit at home alone doing nothing." I hoped and hoped he'd accept. I knew how much I enjoyed an evening to myself, and I knew he alike we were and didn't doubt he was the same, but everyone needed to get every once in awhile. Steven paused for a minute, then get back in the car, tossing his backpack into the backseat.

"Sure, what do you want to do?" He asked. It was the question that plagued most teenagers after school, what to do on a Thursday night? Quite possibly one of the most boring nights of the week, next to Tuesday of course. Now, another tidbit of information about myself, being a teenager in this day and age, I enjoyed a bit of casual drug use. I was tried to always have a little weed nearby, to enjoy a calm afternoon, or make an English paper a bit more creative, you know, the usual. I knew Steven was the same, so, naturally, my thoughts wandered to the glove compartment where my stash was safely... well.. stashed. I reached in, casually brushing up against Steven's leg with my hand, "accidentally" of course, and removed the little Altoids tin containing a bit of weed and a one-hitter. Steven grinned mischievously, agreeing with the idea. I started up the car and headed to one of my favorite spots, a large park up on a hill with lots of little hidden away spots that over looked the Mississippi river. I parked at one such overlook and tuned the radio to one of my favorite stations which played mostly 80's and 90's soft rock. I packed the one hitter generously and handed it to Steven, keeping my manners in mind. He took it and held it to his soft lips, lighting the end and closing his eyes as he drew in the light sweet smelling smoke. The weed in the hitter made a soft crackling noise as it burned slowly. The sight was almost erotic, seeing him take the hit in an almost spiritual manner. He snuck in a couple more puffs as the ember died, then lowered the hitter, holding his breath in a moment of clarity before slowly exhaling. He opened his eyes and a soft smile graced his face. He handed over the hitter and I did the same, taking a long breath and a few smaller ones and holding it in before exhaling. After about ten minutes, the car was full of the light wispy smoke, and the soft music was only background noise to our "enlightened" conversation. We talked for a long time, the marijuana removing any inhibitions and allowing us to speak freely. Now, normally in most stories like this, this would be the point where "Let's Get it On" would come on the radio right after some cheesy confessions of love, but, that's just not how it really is. Over the next couple of weeks, this after school "session" became somewhat of a ritual, which eventually evolved into stopping at the park for some smoke and conversation, followed by a trip to a local coffee shop. One such day, just another day of getting high and spending some time talking at a coffee shop, it all came together. Call it gaydar, call it intuition, I had the idea in my head that Steven might be gay, but I wasn't sure. It's not one of those things you can just ask about, there's a certain... protocol. Usually, it's one of those things you stumble on in casual conversation, then drop some hints and wait for certain responses, then, carefully word something so only someone in the same boat can understand it, if that makes any sense. It's hard to think straight during a time like this, "coming out" is absolutely the hardest, most awkward thing for a gay person to do. Now, I've only come out to two people, both of which were female, and very good friends of mine, so, this was new to me, and I wasn't sure how I wanted to set this up. I managed to lead the conversation to piercing somehow, this would be the staging for the next step.

"Yeah, I think it's kind of weird to have a bunch of piercing on your face, but even with a guy, one or two is normal. That's just the time we live in. Twenty years ago, a guy with a pierced ear was taboo, not it's normal. People are getting more open minded about stuff like that.. piercing, tattoos... sexuality..." Steven perked at eyebrow at that last comment, almost like I struck a nerve.

"I see what you mean, I guess more people are becoming comfortable with coming out, they've always been there, just too afraid to say anything about it... but not it's know big deal. Know what I mean?" He spoke as if this was a conversation he's had before, something he felt pretty strongly about.

"Yeah... I know exactly what you mean. But still, it seems to be a double standard between men and women.. it's OK to see two girls kiss, but not two guys... it's harder to accept. It's cool for women to be bi or lesbians, but not for guys. I mean... what if I told you I was bi or something?" There.. I did it.. I was close, I was nearing the point of no return, I started sweating a bit, my speech became shaky. Steven shrugged a bit, looking uncomfortable as well before responding.

"I wouldn't care, Wes.. we're friends, that's no big deal.. I'd still... you know.. like you. What if I told you I was?" My heart was pounding... it was becoming clearer and clearer, but it was still one of those things that just had to be said before it cleared up completely. I was thankful for the marijuana to make things a little easier to say, but then again, I was wondering if I was doing the right thing.

"It'd be OK... like you said, we're friends, something like tha..." Before I could continue, Steven cut me off.

"I am." There was a pause after he said this. He had turned the tables on me, this wasn't part of the plan! What was I going to do? I was supposed to tell him and clear the way for him to tell me, but, now things were going all wrong! But, as I thought about it more, it was going perfectly after all.

"I know, Steven... well, I thought I did... so.. umm.. well, I guess I did then.. well.. I am too." Steven smiled, still looking just as nervous as I was. I know that usually, since all the steamy sex didn't start at the park, it would here, at the coffee shop maybe, but, not in this case. Just because we were both gay didn't mean we were automatically in love, that's another awkward confession that I wasn't at all ready for yet, especially in the wake of what just happened. He just sat for awhile, talking some more about other stuff, as if this never happened. I'm not sure what he was thinking, hell, I wasn't even sure what I was thinking. "So... why don't we go back to the park or something? I've got kind of a headache,coffee sometimes does that to me." Steven nodded and picked up his bag, we both stood up and headed out, saying goodbye to the old man who ran the coffee shop, with whom we'd spoken to a couple times over the last couple weeks. We headed out to the car and got in. In an odd silence, we headed towards the park. As I parked the car at one of the outlooks high up on the hill, I took a deep breath. "So are things gonna be... weird between us now?" Steven just kind of sat there, reaching into the glove compartment for the Altoids can and packing the hitter silently. I felt like an idiot as he sat there smoking, as if I hadn't even said anything. He passed it over to me, I took it and did the same, as I finished, he spoke.

"No." It was all he said, now I was confused. I don't know what was better, nothing, or this one obscure word. "Wanna go to my house? The Simpsons are coming on..." I just nodded, putting the hitter back in the tin and handing it to him to put up. I didn't know what to think. Things were definitely weird, I wasn't sure what was going. Maybe he was just embarrassed, but why would he be? We had both come out... but then again, if he would have asked me, I would probably be acting a bit weird too. But then again, maybe his silence said more than he could. Maybe he was just as in love with me as I was with him, why else would have he come out? So many thoughts were swimming around in my head, the next few minutes were a blur as I drove to his house and found myself sitting on the couch watching TV in silence. I'm not sure why I did it, or what I was thinking, it was as if my body was sick of taking orders from my brain and decided to move on it's own. My hand slowly crept over Steven's leg, just above his knee. I didn't right out grab it or anything, I just lightly brushed it with one finger, so light he may not have even felt it. He didn't do anything, I turned to the TV, after a few seconds, I did it again... almost like it was some sort of mating ritual, I brushed his leg again, this time stroking his thigh lightly a few times, with a bit more pressure. He still did nothing, I knew he felt it. Despite the intervention of my mind, my had kept moving, stroking his thigh, moving further up his leg, along the soft denim fabric of his jeans. After moving up to about the middle of his thigh, my hand rested on his leg, slowly moving up and down. I wasn't sure what I was doing, and I'm not sure he was either. I looked over to him, having been concentrated on the TV through most of the contact. As I turned to him, he was already looking at me, with a slightly worried, slightly scared look in his eyes. He looked like someone would who was about to jump from the grand canyon with a bungee cord, or about to walk a tightrope across a volcano. But he did something that took more guts and strength than that. He leaned in close to me, closing his eyes, and kissed me. His warm lips met mine lightly at first, then he moved in a bit closer before pulling away. I turned to face him, moving my hand further up his thigh, moving closer, to his inner thigh. I was starting to get nervous, not sure what the next step would be. There was always that little fear in the back, of my mind of someone walking in, even though I knew the coast was clear till at least 9 o'clock. But this was something more important than everything else. Everything was all coming together, I was sitting here kissing the boy that I loved. And he loved me back. I leaned in to kiss him again, this one longer, more passionate. I closed my eyes, opening my mouth slightly, my tongue slipping out slowly into his now open mouth. It wasn't a crazy tongue tying event, it was slow and nice, my tongue gently massaging his, I stopped for a moment and looked at him. As I leaned in to kiss him again, my had moved up, feeling his package through his jeans. The fabric was thick and restricting, I waited for a reaction before returning. The kiss continued, his hand moving to the back of my neck, his fingertips gently massaging the area as we kissed. I moved my hand up to the button on his jeans, struggling for a few seconds to get it open and the zipper down. We paused for a moment again, he reached over to turn the TV off, and adjusted a bit to get more comfortable.

He scooted up on the couch cushion a bit so he could lean back, I moved closer as he did, slipping my hand into his pants as he began to kiss again. I felt his penis through the thin cloth of his boxers. It was fully erect, the warmth was inviting. The kiss became more intense, he massaged the muscles on the back of my neck, the moved down, placing his hand between my shoulders, pulling me closer. I slipped my hand into the slit in the front of his boxers, grasping his cock and massaging it gently. His hand moved down my back, his other hand moving to the back of my neck. He moved his hand under my shirt, up the little ridge of my spine, fingering each vertebrae as he slowly moved up to my shoulder. I broke off the kiss and moved back, taking a moment to take my shirt off. He stopped me, moving closer and whispering into my ear.

"Let me do it..." His hand moved from my neck down to my side, his other one lowering from my shoulder down to my other side, gliding along my smooth skin. He slipped his other hand under my shirt and moved both slowly up my body, moving up my ribs slowly, the shirt moving up with his hands. Finally, in one swift motion, I raised my arms and he slipped the shirt over my head. He took a moment to take in the image. He placed one hand on my chest, moving down, petting my left nipple with one finger, then moving across my abs, spending an extra moment in the shallow ridge between each muscle. I leaned in to kiss him, my hand slowly massaging his cock, the other hand moving to the back of his head, holding him close. His hands moved over my chest, to my shoulders, back, then to my chest again. He slid down my chest, then rested his hands on the small of my back as he kissed passionately. As I slowly jacked him off, his grip on my back tightened slightly as he approached climax. I moved faster, occasionally rubbing the head of his dick with my thumb, making him go wild. Finally, he broke off the kiss and took a deep breath as he came into my hand. I continued massaging his cock as it softened. He laid back, breathing heavily. I brought my hand to my lips and licked off the cum from the back of it. The taste was.... different, thick with a hint of saltiness, but it was nice in a way. We had shared a special moment, and I wasn't sure what was going to happen next. He cleaned himself up with some Kleenex from a nearby table and zipped up his pants. He stood up and took off his shirt. I admired his form, his chest was smooth, with only a hint of still developing muscle. He stepped up to me, placing his hands on my shoulder, pushing me down to lay on the couch. "Are you OK?" He asked me quietly. I wasn't sure what he meant, I was pretty far from okay, I was great. I just smiled as he leaned over me, I placed my hands on his bare back as he moved in to kiss me. We kissed for a few moments, before he moved down, placing kisses on my chin, then my neck, spending some extra time kissing and licking the smooth skin of my neck and that little indention where your neck meets your chest. I closed my eyes, enjoying the attention as he moved down, licking each nipple, nibbling ever so gently, making me smile a bit. He moved down further, kissing my chest and stomach, finally kissing his way down to my fly. He paused to undo the button and zipper, I raised up a little as he slid my pants and boxers down to my knees. He got into a kneeling position on the floor and without warning, he moved in and began licking the shaft of my already hard cock. He licked from the base all the way to the tip, then spent some time licking the ridge between the two before leaning down and taking it into his mouth. He moved up and down slowly, his tongue moving all over, massaging the extra sensitive spot. I shuddered and got excited as he did this, having never had a sensation close to this ever before. I began slowly gyrating my hips, moving my cock in and out of his mouth. He moved his hands to my hips, sucking faster and moving my penis in and out of his mouth faster. Every muscle in my body tensed for a moment as I finally came into his mouth. He lapped it all up, cleaning every drop from my cock and whatever he may have missed at the base of it. He continued slowly licking and sucking on it as it softened. Finally, he stood up, smiling.

"That was awesome..." I said, standing up and pulling my pants back up. He did the same, approaching me for another kiss, we moved our hands over each other's backs as we made out, reluctantly breaking away from the kiss. He looked at my, our eyes meeting. Usually this would be where we'd say how much we loved each other, or we'd go smoke a cigarette, or talk about each other's qualities as if quoting a cheesy romance novel. But we didn't. We didn't even need to. We just looked into each other's eyes, smiling, not saying anything. And that was exactly how it should have been. We sat back down on the couch, holding each other. As time went on, I reluctantly stood up, announcing it was time I went home. He frowned a bit, nodding. I put my shirt back on, then just stood looking at him before moving towards the door. He followed me there. "I'll see you tomorrow... want to go to the park again after school?"

"Sure" He said. There was another odd silence as I stood at the door, not wanting to leave him, it felt like I was in the middle of the ocean and I was about to swim away from my life raft, but, being 16 years old, I was under the iron fist of a curfew. I walked away, looking back to give a little wave before I got in my car. He still stood in the doorway as I started the car, looking at him one more time before driving away.

To be continued.

Note: Well, this is my second story ever, somewhat of a rewrite of sorts of a story I wrote long long ago. The old story ended up being about 8 or 9K and started off good, but I moved through the sex too quickly and I wasn't happy with it at all. So, this is me second attempt. I didn't plan for this to be a series, but it looks like it might. I didn't want to go ahead and go the whole 9 yards the first time with this story, it just didn't feel right, or realistic. this story isn't true at all, but I tried to write it as if it was, some elements, especially the awkwardness of the "coming out" was taken from prior experience. Thanks for reading.

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