This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to any person, place, or written works are purely coincidental. It may contain consensual sex between young men. Do not read if you find that objectionable or if it is illegal for you to view this content for whatever the reason.
Copyright 2009 Jade. All Rights Reserved. Do not post, copy, or use this story in any manner without my permission.
Comments / criticism / feedback? Always love to hear from you at : phantomscorpio77@gmail.com.
).:.(<<
In the Shadows of Our Lives Part 1 - On Broken Wings X ~ The Apartment [School's Out] ~
Dear Journal:
It's been a few days now since Tim and Train settled into the apartment. I've spent some time with Chris but have avoided anything overtly sexual with him beyond oral in his hot tub. I'm saving myself for Tim. You see it's Friday and I've invited myself to stay over with him like usual and he's readily agreed. So all I have to do is seduce him in bed and trick him into letting me orally pleasure him. Once he's throat deep in my mouth he'll discover what a great friend I can be in other ways too. Holding my ankles as he pumps into my body he'll realize nothing could be more right in the world than having sex with me and he'll fall deeply in love with me. We'll have a commitment ceremony and each day of the rest of our lives will be an expression of our love.
That's the fantasy anyways. I'm sure the best I'll manage is to get him to give me part of one drawer of his dresser to keep a change of clothes in so that he doesn't have to drive me home and back when I have to go to work at the mall Saturdays. I want to stamp ownership on him and keeping clothes at his place seems like the way to me. Do you think he'll catch on to my intentions Journal?
I'll let ya know how it goes, Jon.
).:.(<<
Being summer vacation I sleep in past noon and just enjoy the day. I head over to Tim's around 3:00 in the afternoon. I'll catch up on my house cleaning some time, but it won't get noticed because Candace is moving out this coming week. Speaking of which, Tim's family is making the big move to New Orleans for July 1st too.
Train answers the door in mesh football shorts, "Jonny! We haven't hung in ages! What's up my man?"
I mumble, "Dunno. Not much I guess. I thought I was off your radar after you had to defend Daniel and me at Tania's. Tim around?"
Train motions me inside, "Tim's taking one last dip in his pool before his parental units are off to N. O. with the fam. Should be back anytime, sure been gone a while."
"Oh, cool. I guess it's just us for now then," I say, toeing off my sneakers.
Train sits his hulking body down on an inflatable Houston Oilers chair and I take a seat on the couch. Train starts the obvious conversation, "So what's your story bro? I haven't seen you since Danny got shipped off. We're still chill right?"
"No. Yeah we're still cool. Thanks again for that by the way, for defending us," I say as Train pulls out Castlevania from the Nintendo 64 and plugs in Destruction Derby.
"It's all good my man. Danny was my little bro," he points out as he tosses me a controller, "Here, you're that white car. Prepare to get killed."
When Tim gets home we play video games into the morning, only breaking for a hike over to Subway at the mall half an hour before it closes. I do sleep with Tim in his bed, but nothing happens other than me staring at the pillow effect of his developing abs as he sleeps and fighting off the urge to run my hands over them.
When the alarm goes off in the morning he goes back to sleep as I shower. Unpacking my clothes for work I pull out a second set of clothes. After stuffing my towel back into my bag I search Tim's dressers for space to stow my spare clothes in a plastic bag from the music store. I leave my calling card on his nightstand; the first Iron Maiden CD with a sticky note indicating songs Remember Tomorrow and Strange World. I also write in the sticky for him to please pick me up at noon.
When noon rolls around I feel like my shift should just be getting going when Tim and Train drop into the store. I cash out my till and leave the store in the assistant manager's hands. I had a short shift today at the music store and no shift at the restaurant because of the grad ceremony tonight. Larry's already picked up our tuxedo's for us so we head over to his house. With Candace and Lacey both graduating today my house is sure to be chaos so we are staying out of the girl's way.
Instead we're heading to Larry's even though Ma and Larry have unofficially moved Larry into our house. The last few weeks he's gone home from school, (`work' for him I guess), does housekeeping there, and then heads over here before dinnertime. I'm guessing that he even does his laundry at my house although I never see it. I mean he's never at his home to do it there, unless he does it while he's mowing the lawn or something. Honestly, this mystery perplexes me.
Anyhow, I get a good look at Larry's house this visit and it's nice enough. I also get to see Tim as we change into our tuxedos and he's more than nice enough! Train heads over to the school with Larry and I ride with Tim. Damn he looks good! I can't stop the excitement in my pants when I look at him. The scene would be perfect if it were our grad and we were heading to it together as boyfriends. Ah well, at least he has my CD playing in his car!
The graduation is a whole lot of running around for me, and a lot of work. It's probably boring as hell, but I never get a chance to notice. I'm paired up with Tim as ushers at the auditorium and again at coat check at the rented hall, taking time for lots of family pictures in between.
I think Paul volunteers more than once to do something that I volunteered for, but I totally avoid him. I still can't face him without simultaneously wanting to burst out into tears over my attraction to him and die of embarrassment that he caught me looking at his crotch. Why doesn't he just beat me up, or tell everyone about it? Then I'd either be dead or wishing I was. But at least then I could replace my desire for him with hate.
Yeah, then I could get over my hang-up on him. Arrgh! No matter, I have to say that we all look good in the tuxedos. Yes, Paul especially, but Candace makes sure to tell me that a lot of the girls are asking if I'm her brother and remarking that I'm hot! She flashes me a wink every time. I think she's really cool with me liking guys. No matter, I agree; I think I've managed to look damn good today too! At one point in the night Tania takes a group picture of the 8 guys and when I get a copy I'll have a drool fest!
I get a few boners over Paul. As the night wears on I continue to avoid him like the plague again. I'm on auto pilot the whole night and can't believe my actions to be honest. When Barry suggests a keger party that he knows of I readily agree to go along with my friends. Once Paul commits to it though I back out and give Chris a call. Tim knows something is up and I really wish I could just be brave enough to tell him. Instead I just keep brushing him off and insisting that he goes to the keger and has a good time. After we're told our night is done they all see me leave with Candace and her date, and get in the car with Chris.
Instead of the keger Chris and I end up going with Candace and her date to Virginia Point. Yeah, the place that we met at the Beach Bash. Candace had asked me if I wanted to call him and go with her and her date early on in the night. Initially I say no, but later take it as my out from having to get drunk to avoid my infatuation with Paul. And it is an infatuation, bordering on obsession. When Paul is around I act like a fool and lose sight of even how hot Tim is. Maybe it's the separation from Paul lately, but I know for sure tonight he is number one on my list of guy's I love.
Chris is all dressed to the nines in a suit and tie and I definitely see what attracted me to him in the first place. Too bad that often gets lost in the fray of my life. But yet, the fact that he looks good in clothes has more to do with the clothes than him, once we get the clothes off him he loses some of his effect on me. I guess clothes really can make the man! He offers to drive us all down to Virginia Point rather than try to cram two more into a limo.
Candace's date, Adam, is a cool guy. He's almost like family as he and Candace had an on and off relationship for a couple years before settling into just being good friends. Thus he used to be over all the time and I always got along good with him. Now a year into University, he came as Candy's date for her graduation, just like she was his date last year.
At any rate I'm happy I take her up on the offer as we head to the camping grounds there where a tent city is set up and lots of graduates are celebrating. The night is bittersweet. She doesn't make a big production over Chris and I, nor does she protect us from a couple snide comments, she lets us handle ourselves. Thankfully Lacey is at a hotel party back in Houston so I don't have to deal with her. Nope, I get to spend a night of drinking with my boyfriend and my cool sister.
We talk about my slightly obvious track record with girlfriends (none) and Daniel. Candace knew what was going on there and she and Deanna had talked about it a lot it seems. They both agree that Lacey doesn't need to know and that I can tell Ma in my own time. Adam never knew, but is un-phased by Chris and I. So on one of the last nights living together with Candace we become better friends than I ever realized we would be.
We all sleep for a few hours in the tent and then Chris and I get up and head back home. Adam's arranged with friends to drop their cars off there yesterday and carpool back, so he and Candace have a ride home when they get around to it. Chris and I hit our Denny's on the way back to my place. It's almost eight in the morning when Chris drops me off. I crash for a few hours of good sleep to recover from the crappy sleep I got on the bare plastic liner on the tent.
I get woken by my cell phone, "You still alive Cheesedick?"
"I think so, who is this," I say before getting my bearings, "Never mind. Sorry Timbo. Yeah, I'm alive. Why?"
"Just looked suicidal-depressed last night or something. You kind spooked us," he shares.
By us, I'm sure he means him as no one else takes that much interest in me. Still, I apologize, "Sorry. I'm good. No biggie, just had stuff on my mind I guess."
"Right," he says. After a pause he suggests, "Well if you're not still too troubled with whatever's bugging ya I've got a bottle of Vodka and Sunny D to finish if you're interested. They say the best way to kill a hangover is to keep on drinking, right? Well I need to find out cause I don't have any Aspirin."
When I get close to the apartment at noon I can see Nat heading down the street ahead of me, having just come out of the building. Hahaha. I don't think she sees me but I can see Tim still waiting for the elevator in the lobby when I get to the vestibule to buzz up to him. I knock on the glass and he lets me in.
By the time we're off the elevator I'm almost positive he slept with her last night. Tim stresses that it was just her staying over, like I've done often. He swears nothing more happened between them than has ever has between he and I in bed. (So I guess she drooled over his body and pined over him after he fell asleep? Oops, I mean, nothing...) Yeah, right, a hot teenage guy and a hot teenage chick that are friends and flirt with each other share a bed and nothing happens? Whatever!
As the day progresses I realize that Tim is a lot more honest with me than I am with him, "I think she rode the Train last night. I woke up and she was gone. His door was closed. She wasn't on the couch and not in the bathroom. When I wake again she's sleeping on the couch."
"You are just friends, or so you always tell me," I say, trying to sooth him.
"Yeah, and that's seriously all. Man, I was worried she wanted something more last night and I felt trapped. Thankfully she just went to sleep. I really didn't want to be pressured into sex. But still, Train? Friends don't do that do they? Friends don't sleep with the girl you take to bed, no matter what the circumstances. Train didn't even stick around to face me this morning. He's outta here when I get a chance to talk to him. And friends don't sleep in your bed, get you worked up thinking they want you to fuck them, and then sleep with your roommate when you don't fuck them, do they? But why am I asking you? You ditched me last night too."
I'm floored. I have no response. I'm sitting shirtless on his couch and he's sitting equally shirtless on the floor leaning against the couch, both in the path of a box fan. Not thinking, I shimmy over and swing one leg around the other side of him. I start to knead his traps and neck muscles. He tenses up at first but soon relaxes and lets me massage his neck and shoulders. He's made it poignantly clear to me that I have no right to doubt a word he says to me, while I on the other hand have kept things back from him. He showed that he is a true friend yet again, and I feel so shitty for hurting him and not telling him about myself.
After a little while of letting me feel up his upper body as I massage it he grabs my arms, gets up and does some twisty thing and until he has me in a full nelson wrestling move. I finally break out of Tim's submission hold only to have my ear and cheek rubbed against his sweaty armpit as he instead forces me into a headlock. He hasn't showered this morning and I find the scent beyond sexual. I note that he's wearing yesterday's button fly boxers that I looked at on him when we were dressing in the tuxedo's. Against my will something stirs and points to the left and up. I'm thankful that I'm wearing loose basketball style shorts today to hide my boner in it's folds.
And then Tim finally asks me again, "Hey! Why don't you be my roommate? It'd give you some privacy from Coach Maynes, and your Mom and Lacey. And with your own room I really wouldn't care if you and that blonde kid from last night or Hunter go at it all day long if you can ever manage to get his ass in the sac!"
I don't know how I'll manage it, but I actually want to just do it. I know I'll get a hard time from Ma, but with Larry moving in I don't think she needs the extra money I contribute anymore. And I would be able to live a half normal life, not hiding from everyone. He's asked me before but this time I really, really want to.
Oh woah! Stop the train, back the fuck up! He saw Chris? And did he just imply that I want to have sex with Chris or Paul Hunter?
I ram my knee into the back of his knee, making him lose his balance enough to afford me to slip out of the headlock and twist his arm behind his back. "What's that supposed to mean about me getting Hunter in the sac?"
Tim hesitates in his response too long for my liking. O.K. He officially knows I'm gay. Great. As he twists like a magician out or my hammer lock and instead gets me into a bear lock down on the carpet he says, "Just throwing you off guard so that I can pin you, Cheesedick."
Good neither of us really want to talk about it now that it's finally come up. So we both avoid the fact the he just implied I'm gay. He gloats that he's pinned me. Big whup. Compare our sizes and tell me that I stand a chance. I'm not skinny, I have no fat, but I have no muscle definition other than slight pecks and minor bumps I like to call biceps. I'm average, ordinary. Just another teenage boy. He on the other hand isn't. Of course he can pin me, he's super athletic and works out. He has real biceps and pecks and visible abs. As he gloats I wonder to myself why he does what he does with me if he really thinks I'm gay. Like right now for instance, he's the one failing to conceal a tent that also sprung up in his shorts as we wrestled.
I'm hurt that he's joking about me being gay. Does he really think I am? If he doesn't really think so and is just being a macho teenager by trash talking me, what would he do if he thought I am gay? More specifically what would he do if he were to realize that currently I'm thoroughly enjoying the view of up his shorts of his spread legs above my face with his bare feet planted on each side of my head and his tent in the front of his white underwear, and the material bunched up in between his cheeks accenting his perfect Texan tan. I can even see a little of his sac through one of the leg openings.
Of course I don't stare. C'mon, a professional queer like me? I can take in a site like this in under a second and store it in memory for later that night! As he gloats and celebrates winning the wrestling match he stays over me and bends forward so that I can see his beaming smile, and again wiggles his ass. Little does he know, but from my view as he wiggles it looks like his cotton clad penis is lined up perfectly to enter his smiling mouth.
He keeps it up, flexing and indicating with his hands where an imaginary championship belt should be around his waist, so I smile and pretend to jokingly say in a mock gay voice, "looks good!"
In fact it does look good. I get a clear look at half of his goods and he shaves them! Why does his body have so much power over me? I don't get much opportunity to mull this over though. He adjusts himself so that that instead of a tent in his underwear his penis is now pointed more towards the sky, and he smooths out the legs of his shorts so that I can't see up them anymore. His cheeks have reddened as he asks in an also mock gay voice, "Ya think so, Farrows?"
I laugh. He thinks I'm laughing at the banter no doubt. Nope, guess again. The banter secretly wounds me. I'm laughing from the previous sight where he looked like he was giving himself head. I'm laughing because it turned me on and I can't tell him. I'm laughing at the fact that he might think I'm gay after all, but he doesn't realize in his attempt to pretend to give me something to masturbate over he really has inadvertently given me a view of his powerful lean legs and crotch complete with boner and slightly visible scrotum towering directly over my face. Hahaha, sort of like my Holy Grail. So I laugh a nervous laugh. I can't help it.
I'm not about to admit my sexuality to him now that it's come up so I do the only natural thing. I grab hold of his ankles, roll up on my neck and shoulders and twist my feet just far enough into his armpits so that I can leverage him and make him fall backwards. We twist and turn as he tries to maintain his balance.
Crash! I've flipped Tim onto the coffee table that was beside me a second ago All four of the table legs collapse under our partial weight and the now emptying vodka bottle that sat atop it is wedged between our legs spilling it's contents onto me. I think Tim must be right on top of the Sunny D bottle because from my perspective in the tangled mess it looks like his ribs are bleeding orange blood into the area carpet at a record rate.
Now that I've wiped the grin off of his face I'm content. Of course we have to untangle our bodies, get up, inspect the damage to the coffee table, and rent a steam cleaner for the rug. But hey, that's my revenge for his Paul comment.
"Fuck, Farrows! This sucks the big one!" Tim laments.
"I'll go get some paper towel," is all I can say. Tim's not mad, and it's both of our faults but it looks real bad.
"I don't have any." He informs.
I ask, "How about a towel then?"
"Don't worry about it. I'll just throw the carpet out and not tell my parents about it. It was only like 30 bucks at Ikea." He reasons.
"Yeah, but we still have to get it off the floor or it's going to ruin the wood," I point out.
Agreeing, he says, "Good point. I still don't know which box the extra towels are in. My mom labeled everything, let's go look."
We look at a pile of boxes still stacked just inside his room and most of the labels are facing another direction than at us. Tim gets impatient and just grabs a handful of worn clothes from the floor of his closet. He advises, "Here, we'll just use this then."
He grabs his clothes from the floor in the closet and I meet him in the living room with his bath towel. One of us should have had the sense to pick up the bottles at least when we originally got up from the mess but we didn't. The carpet which unblemished is a natural cream colour now has a glow in the dark orange spot almost a fifth the size of itself. We pick up the table and move it off to the side and Tim motions for me to pick up the carpet. I do so and we fold it, dripping and all, onto the upturned table top. We carry this sandwich out onto the balcony where we leave it. Back inside Tim pulls a sock out of a pair of his baseball jogging pants and uses the pants to start wiping up. I start at the sliding door to the balcony with the towel and work towards the big puddle in front of the couch.
With the jogging pants sufficiently soaked he balls up a t-shirt and tosses it on the puddle. The shirt is not absorbent enough and by the time I get to it he has three thoroughly soaked shirts and a few socks on the puddle with his pants. He gets up, goes to his room and returns with a laundry basket and another pair of jogging pants that are still folded. After tossing the towel and soaked clothes in the basket the majority of the puddle is gone. He uses the last pair of jogging pants to wipe the floor dry. Not yet having looked at the table he strips off his soaked shorts and tosses them on the pile before he crashes back down on the couch. I take off my soaked shorts and also toss them into the laundry basket, then join him on the couch.
He complains, "Man, that's like 5 bucks worth of laundry. The guy has a washer/dryer here but the dryer doesn't work right."
I offer, "We can do it for free at my place."
He doesn't reply, he only nods his head. As he toes the one leg nearest him we assess that one is splintered and another has cracked in half. "Well, looks like that one's toast too."
Now I don't reply.
We sit in silence for a few minutes until we hear a knock at the door. Tim is only in his loose white Haynes and I am down to my tight white ones too which I now realize are slightly see-through and look like I just had an accident in the front of them. He indicates to me to be quiet by putting a finger over his lips. The guy knocks again and asks if anyone is there. We sit still and silent. I'm sure Tim's heart is racing as fast as mine.
Then we hear a key in the door and another knock, "Super. I'm coming in. Is anyone home?" The door opens.
We're shocked and caught. Under his breath Tim mutters, "Sure. Just let yourself in."
"There were complaints about a loud crashing noise, is everyone O.K.?" The Super asks.
Tim answers, "Yeah, everything's fine, we just fell on that table and spilled some juice."
At first I think everything is going to be fine as the Super restates, "Good, I was just checking that no one is hurt or dead from something falling on them." Then the bottom drops out on us, he spots the Vodka bottle. "How old are you boys?"
"Uh, 18." Tim answers.
I echo him, "18 sir."
"Aren't you one of the minors I've heard about that has no parents living with them," the Super asks Tim.
Tim stammers, "Ah, no. I am 18 sir, don't need any parents."
"But still not old enough to drink then. Do you have some I.D.?" He presses.
Tim quips, "Not on me. Look you caught me at a bad moment as you can see. How about I get it for you and show it you later?"
A woman in the hall prompts the Super, "No. Get it from him now Mike, he's got to have some in there. He's still not old enough to be drinking."
"Well Jim below has complained about the noise this week, as have the Scott's across the hall, and they've also said that you look too young to be here on your own. I'm going to have to ask you to show it to me now."
Tim gives up, "You don't need to see it. I'm 17. Am I getting kicked out?"
"Well the building policy is not to allow minors to live here alone. You're subletting this unit right? I'll have to contact the owner and tell him he's violated the building policies," Mike the Super leaves after that.
Tim gets up to close the door. The lady from across the hall is still in her doorway looking into Tim's place so he grabs his crotch at her and slams the door.
The superintendant returns, opens the door again and informs Tim, "I'll bring the papers by later, but you have 48 hours to vacate."
"Fine," is all Tim answers.
I sit quietly on the couch, not sure of just what to say.
"Well Cheesedick, looks like I'm half a day behind my family in moving to the Bayou after all. Ah, hell. C'mon, lets get out of here." Tim says as he motions for me to follow him to his room.
He tosses me a pair of his shorts and a baseball jersey to wear. He turns away from me, steps out of his boxers and slips on a pair of soccer shorts. So much for modesty, he can see my flesh through my Haynes anyway so I do the same. He grabs his undershirt from the pile that was his Tuxedo last night and slings it over his shoulder as he gets his keys and wallet from his dresser. Picking up our discarded laundry he leads me back into the living room where he grabs the laundry basket of wet clothes. After he downs the remaining gulps of Sunny D we put on our shoes and he locks the door.
He gives the door across the hallway the finger and again grabs his crotch. Waiting for the elevator he puts the undershirt on. He still has bed head and I just want to kiss him. We get to the garage and he peels the tires accidentally when he shifts from reverse to first. After startling even himself, he drives calm but I know he's pissed off inside as we head over to my place. I don't quite think I've seen an inner rage in him before. I don't know what to say or how to act again so I just stay quiet. In the ensuing silence he sparks up a humourous but cutting conversation, carrying both sides of it and using voice somewhat close to Southpark's Butters for me:
"Everything's going to be fine Tim." "No, it's not Jon" "Sure it is Tim." "No. Really. It's not. You aren't getting kicked out with no place to stay. You don't have to go live with your family in the swamp. I do." "It can't be that bad." "Yes, it can." "Oh. Well then I'll go live there for you and you can live in my place." "How nice of you Farrows." "That's me. I'm just a nice guy that'd do anything for a friend." "You sure would, Cheesedick. You sure would." "Yeah, except tell you about my other friends that I ditched you last night for." "I wasn't going to bring it up Cheesedick, but yeah. Except that." "Oh yeah. That. Kay. Well it's just, well, you know..." "No, for once Jon I don't. I know you better than anyone, but buddy I don't know what you mean and it hurts."
Wow. What an eye opener. Straight guys are as emotional as us gay boys! I never realized Tim knew I was seeing Chris. Well I guess he doesn't know that, but he knows I hang out with another group too.
I place a hand on his arm and squeeze, as if needing him to physically understand as I whisper, "I'm sorry Tim."
"Sure," He answers.
I reaffirm, "No, Really. I am."
"Look at my face and tell me you are." He says. I can hear the hurt in his voice now.
I look him in the face. Normally at this point I'd be crying but I feel like such an ass maybe inside my subconscious knows that'd be hypocritical. I repeat, "Kay, you're right Tim, and I'm truly sorry."
He doesn't respond so I go on, ready to tell him everything, "Do you want to know who they are? I'll tell you everything. I'm sorry."
He's off base as I listen to him. I get the feeling he's trying to mask jealousy on his voice, "You don't have to spill Jon. I know you're sorry. You don't tell me about them for whatever your reasons, so you don't have to just because I forced it. I'm sure I'd want to hang with my sister and her friends too on her graduation."
I almost tell him he's wrong and that Chris is my boyfriend. I have a sick feeling in my stomach. It's not like butterflies when I'm nervous, it's different. I open my mouth to speak and tell him the truth but I stop myself. I still am somewhat undiscovered here in the closet so instead I pull the doors shut again and see if the crack of light that was shed on me will go away.
We get to my house in silence. I feel like a heel. Tim for his part feels awkward because he needs me for the first time. It's not like he's using me. Let us get it straight, I'm the user. But he has laundry that needs to be done and I had offered. Worse, he just got kicked out of his place and neither of us have any clue what to do about that.
For perhaps the first time I see Tim as a vulnerable 17 year old, not the solid rock of a God that I always assumed he is. He doesn't have all the answers. Yes, he is happy-go-lucky, and very calm and take-it-as-it-is, but he has inward feelings that he too holds onto. Things do affect him, he gets sad and hurt too. How stupid I am that I just assumed that he was always happy and nothing bothered him. He's always been honest to me. Even when he told me his family was moving he was confident that he was staying. Now for the first time he doesn't have the answers, he's not in the driver's seat.
It's Sunday afternoon. Ma is with her church ladies. Candace is getting all of her stuff in order one last time. Larry is out in the backyard with Bandit. We walk in the house, Tim with the laundry basket in hand, and still don't speak. We toe off our shoes in silence. We stare at opposite directions, me at the walls and ceiling, him at the floor.
Finally, indicating the basket, Tim asks, "May I?"
"Yeah, sorry. Help yourself," I say as I lead him to the laundry room.
Sheepishly he asks, "Um, I was going to ask you before, you know when I still had a place...Can you give me a hand. My mom always did it for me. I've never done this before."
Once we have the wash started we head to the kitchen and sit. There's coffee in the coffee maker, so pointing towards it he again asks, "Can I?"
He's had coffee more mornings than not when he picks me up, so I again answer, "Sure, help yourself."
The coffee is old so he doesn't drink it as we sit at the table. After a long silence I ask, "So, what are you going to do?"
Tim sighs, "I don't know. I'd like to have a shower for now. As for the rest, I guess this is it. I don't want to move to New Orleans, but I guess I have no choice."
From outside the screen door Larry perks up, "Why's that?"
Larry comes into the kitchen and we explain the deal to him. He's mildly annoyed at the fact that Tim's getting kicked out over something that nosey neighbors should have not gotten involved in. The underage thing is irrefutable he admits, but the crashing noise that precipitated the encounter with the condo superintendent is bullshit. Candace joins us at the table. We think of options for Tim to stay. Larry offers for Tim to stay the year at his house. I don't think Tim likes that option for some reason or other. As we start to hash out a plan Tim takes a folded piece of paper from his wallet and hands it to me.
"Here. It's my parent's new number. I guess I don't need it anymore seeing as though I'll be living there too. You have it. And unlike Rice, lets' at least stay in touch," He says.
"When are you going?" I ask, accepting his wishes.
"Tomorrow I guess. Have one last good night here before it's all over." He suggests.
"Damn, I doubt I can get out of work tonight." I complain. My mind is starting on ways to call in sick.
"Don't worry about it. I'll visit." He suggests.
"What are you going to do with your stuff?" Larry asks.
Tim thinks, "I don't know. I can't rent a U-haul until I'm like 21 I think, so I'm screwed. I guess I'll just take what I can and abandon the rest."
Larry suggests, "Well then let's go get it now and you can store it in my garage until you can get it later."
"Nah, I don't care about the stuff anyhow. I'm losing my friends and home, might as well loose it all," Tim sulks.
"Well then, I've got a key to your place. After you leave Jon and I will haul it over to my place. You're not defeated just because you lost the apartment. There are way's you can still stay here for your final year. More sensible ways actually." Larry commands. It's more of a Vice-Principal to a student, coach to an athlete tone to his voice than boyfriend of a friend's parent Larry uses. He is an authority figure and knows how to slip into the role of command quite well. Tim and I both automatically freeze up at his command and neither of us question what he means.
Catching a whiff of his armpits Tim says, "The most sensible thing I could do right now is have a shower."
"Sure, yeah. You can change in my room if you want. I'll get you a towel and toss out some clothes for you for after. I've got to have some stuff that fits," I offer.
Candace hovers over me while Tim is in the shower. I grab some clothes for him and toss it on my bed. I have some cargo shorts that I never wear because I could get lost inside in them. They looked good on me at the store, at home in front of a mirror, not so much. I also find a large T-shirt. It's a concert shirt from The Offspring that I got big at concert a few years ago hoping that I'd grow to fill it out.
I ask her advice, "Candy, what's acceptable here; I'll toss a pair of socks on the pile and maybe a pair of Haynes beside? Do I put them on the bed, or see if he asks to borrow some? Or will he feel too awkward to ask? Or would he think it's sick beyond words to borrow my boxer briefs? He is straight and not my boyfriend afterall. Then If I do leave them out for him, will he feel awkward if the idea grosses him out?"
She's a lot of help, "I don't know. Fold them and leave them on the bed, he can decide."
I check them to make sure that they are completely white and clean, refold them, and set them on my bed.
After shooing her out of my room I undress while Tim's in the shower and wrap a towel around myself. When Tim's out of the bathroom I tell him there's clothes laid out for him in my room. Of course he's got to be a large in the underwear department and mine are mediums. I'm still stuck on what protocol in this situation is but it's too late now as he heads downstairs.
After my shower I head to my room to dress, and more importantly, to see what Tim went with. He did go with the shirt and socks I put out for him and his own shorts that he had lent me. The soccer shorts he threw on are gone so I can only assume that he's wearing them under the other shorts. I dress and search for him. He's in the backyard with Larry, Candace and Bandit.
"I could cancel my bus ticket and ride with you as far as Panama City if you want some company," I overhear Candace offering as I step out the sliding door.
"You dolt, Panama City is in Florida. There other side of Louisiana? In fact, there are two other states in between them. Ever heard of Alabama and Mississippi?" I chastise her.
"Sure, I'll drive you there. Give me some time to think," Tim offers.
Larry bluntly states, "That's many hours out of you way, one way. Are you sure?"
I think Tim stops himself from shooting me a look before responding to Larry, "Yeah. I have a lot of thinking to do." Then turning to Candace he asks, "What time was the bus for?"
"10:00 tonight, arriving in Panama at 7:00 am," she answers.
"When do you need to be there?" He asks.
Candace doesn't need to be there for until Wednesday so they agree to head out early tomorrow morning. It's getting desperately close to the time I have to head to work, being a Sunday after all. After checking the size of Candace's suitcases Tim suggests he'll drive me to work and head back to his place to pack. It's all like a foggy dream. Here I go again losing my closest friend. Tim suggests that I should come over after work; he's going to have a party worth getting kicked out for. He casually suggests that I can bring my other friend' if I want. I pretend not to hear the way he says other' so quietly and stresses `friend'.
As my shift wears on I am tempted to call Chris and invite him over to Tim's. But if Tim knows about him that's one thing. Tim is leaving. I have to face my life here after tonight so I don't want to mix Chris with my friends. If they don't know he's gay then maybe they won't be able to draw the conclusion that he is also my boyfriend. Thus they will have no proof that I too am gay. Man this sucks.
I am almost even more tempted to have Chris come just so that I can get it over with and everyone can laugh at good ole gay me and that will be that. Hmm. What to do? I pass the night in indecision. If Tania saw him last night and again tonight she'd piece it all together for sure; she did meet him at the baseball game after all. She can piece the blonde kid that picked me up together with the obvious talk going on behind my back quite easily. I don't want to be out. How will they all react? With Tim gone will they all ostracize me? Fuck, do they know? How do they know? Man, this really sucks.
As my shift comes to an end I decide against inviting Chris because I am not ready for all of my worlds to collide. If it's inevitable I'd rather that they slowly intertwine. Maybe if things go slowly I can have more control on the situation? At one point I decide to not even show up at Tim's for the grief I'm sure to face there. But I won't do that to him. As soon as my shift ends I change and head for the busses. An hour later, at 12:15 I get to Tim's. I gather that a number of people had filtered through but the only people left are Kevin, Nat, Neil, Tania and of course Tim; our small inner group of friends. The one standout is my sister Candace! What is she doing here?
No one makes a comment to me about my disappearing act last night. Is it because they are used to it? Do they understand what I'm doing with my secret life or are they clueless? Am I paranoid? Looking around I can see that Tim has grabbed a bunch of clothes and nic-nacs, and stuffed a few baseball equipment bags with them. Aside from that he is leaving everything until he can come back to visit during the summer and sort it out. He tells me he has taken Larry up on his offer. The offer he refers to is not about staying at his place, but about us moving and storing his stuff for later. He also asks me to return his tux when I return mine.
Sitting in a circle on the floor we play asshole as we talk. By 1 in the morning Kevin nods off. Half an hour later Neil and Tania decide it's best time they were getting home. Yuk, in my opinion Tania's going to have intercourse with a troll as soon as they get to her place. Not only do her parents let Neil stay over, they are allowing their alright looking daughter to mate with a troll! If they have kids I pray they take after her, otherwise they are going to be hairy and lumpy in all the wrong places.
Before the love-struck couple get going Neil and Tim both wet a finger and stick them in both of Kevin's ears to wake him. Poor Kevin screams as he wakes to Tim and Neil's joke. As Kevin gathers himself to head out too I wonder who's going to win out and get to share Tim's bed tonight, me or Nat.
If he could just be bisexual there wouldn't be any jealousy on my part towards Nat. I don't know why the thought occurs to me. Maybe now that he's leaving I am dropping my guard. Instead of seeing only my friend, I am also seeing the great boyfriend and husband he's going to make some lucky girl. Maybe finally I am admitting that even though I forced it out of my mind because I never wanted it to get in the way of the friendship, that I really want to have Tim.
Maybe Paul Hunter, another unattainable conquest, has always just been a foil for Tim to me. Scratch that, Paul stands on his own merit for the reaction he has on certain parts of my body.
One look from Tim as he ushers the others to the door and Nat decides she's not staying either.
"Oh. Well, I guess we should get going too, early morning for you two," I say, meaning Candace and myself.
"You just got here, but true enough," he says.
Candy and I tidy up the mess from the little party and throw out all the garbage we can find as Tim packs one last baseball equipment bag with clothes and whatever else he's taking for now. With three bags slung over his shoulders and his pillow in his arms he struggles to put on a ball cap and his sunglasses on the hat's visor. Then with keys and wallet in hand he can't lock the door. I grab his pillow, Candy takes a bag.
I want to hug the pillow in his place but that would look pretty fucked up so I casually dangle it from a hand instead. Yup, here's strong and studly me with only his pillow while Candace is hefting one of Tim's bags over her shoulders. I grab a bag off of him as well once the door is locked so that I don't look like a wuss. Exiting the garage Tim salutes the building and issues a `so long sucka' to it.
In his car I ask Tim, "Kay, if she slept with Train last night and he's already moved out tonight what the story with Nat? Why was she even here tonight?"
He sighs, "She went for a run. Apparently she goes for one every day at 6:30 with Jackie, so she kept it up. The clothes she says she borrowed off me were where she said she left them, and she didn't want to get back in bed with me all sweaty."
"You slept with her last night," Candace asks him point blank.
Tim is defensive, "As in two people sleeping yes. As in sex, or kissing or anything of the sort, hell no!"
"So let me get this straight, nothing happened with Nat last night," Candace asks Tim.
"Nothing. Why don't people believe me that I don't want to sleep with her? We're just friends. And that would piss off Jon here anyways. I really didn't want her to stay over at all. She tried to spoon me and I kept pulling away. Hate to admit it but your brother snuggles way better," Tim jokes.
Wow, kinda forward for mutual acquaintances. And dangerously close to me being outed, like what is the comment about me being pissed off about them sleeping together? I covered the bases before work, Candace knows Tim doesn't know about me one way or the other for sure. But how is she supposed to take him telling her I snuggle with him? I sure as hell don't! I mean I'd love to, but I am not that daring or stupid!
When we get to my house Candace gets her suitcases and Tim packs them in the mustang. They are all set and ready for the morning. I just assumed Tim would head back home, but after Candace heads up to her room for bed he takes off his t-shirt as we sit on the couch.
I must be staring so Tim grabs me by the sleeve of my shirt, "C'mon, let's get to bed. Like you said, it will be an early enough morning."
"I'll get you a blanket," I say.
He seems confused, "Oh. I guess so, thanks."
"What," I ask.
"Nothing. You had me going," He says as he heads to my room.
"I was sorta serious. My bed is small," I convey.
"As if. It's big enough. Wall side or door side," Tim inquires as he tosses his shirt on my floor.
I jump at the suggestion inside. One more chance to be close to Tim before he's gone. I would be a cheap whore if I was a whore. Still, I am a slut for sure because I don't think twice about it. Tim kicks off his socks and shucks his shorts he walks around me to the bed. My eyes linger on his boxer shorts. He's changed out of the soccer shorts he was wearing as underwear earlier in the day and is in a pair of button fly boxers now. How I wish that there was no button and I could cop a glance if he fell out through the fly. I wonder what Candace thinks of his body?
Tim tells me to hurry up and undress and turn the light off. He makes himself comfortable on my bed, having taken the side against the wall, "I'm going to close the door, kay. It's gonna get pitch black, but if the door's open it startles me when I wake cause it's right there touching this side of the bed."
"Cool," he says.
I get in bed with Tim. He must now understand how small my bed really is. There's no way we can both be on it and not practically be touching each other. We're barely inches apart and I can feel his body warmth. We talk for a bit until I nod off on him.
Of course nothing happens. Sometime in the night I wake up and I feel the weight of Tim's hand on my side. There's really no other way to put it, we're spooning. As I wake I notice that Tim is awake too; I think he in fact woke me up purposely.
Since getting mad at me less than 24 hours ago Tim has developed a way of mimicking my voice and saying something to prompt a conversation, whereby he responds with what's on his mind. Only the voice sounds more like a cartoon character than me. Generally it's a conversation I wouldn't initiate, but something that needs to be brought up in his opinion. This time, realizing that I'm awake he answers an unasked question, "Well, since you didn't ask honey, no, I haven't slept a wink."
I'm afraid to move. He is holding me like a lover! I clear a lump in my throat to respond, "I wish that things didn't have to be this way."
His hand is still on my side. Just around the base of my ribs. He gives my butt a squeeze with his hand and then drapes his arm over me again, "Me too. I woke you because I wanted to tell you that no matter what we better stay friends. I feel...gay saying this, no offence...especially under these circumstances... but you understand me more than anyone. I'm going to miss you most of all, Cheesedick."
Fuck. I understand the whole metrosexual revolution that is starting up, and I know Tim is a sincere and sensitive guy that doesn't care to play the ultra-straight stoic and tough act. But when he says this I start to cry. I'll allow that my sensitive little gay heart just melts at these moments where other guys can keep their composure.
Then he shocks the hell out of me. He actually reaches forward and kisses me on the shoulder. Although I'm not wearing a shirt, and the back of the shoulder is hardly a sensual place to me anyways, I know this isn't sexual. But I don't care about the placement. He cares about me enough as his friend despite me denying my sexuality, which he obviously knows about, to give me this small gesture. Make that a huge gesture.
With that he whispers to me that I'll be alright without him, attempts to slap me on the chest, and then twists and turns so that our backs are facing each other. I fall back asleep, but not before I manage to press my butt against his!
Three strikes, I must be out now. First Phil, then Daniel and now Tim. Three best friends, in a row I might add, that have moved away. Phil is still like half an hour away, but we grew distant because it was too far a divide back in grade 9. (I don't group Michael in the best friend category because I hate him now, so he's the asterix to this stat.) Of course Daniel was the second best friend that moved away, even if against his will. And now Tim makes three.
If anyone is counting that's also the number of times I can be placed with Chris. At the Beach Bash, at the championship semi finals, and now after the grad. Man, I'll have to deal with that later.
About an hour after Tim and Candace leave I give Chris a call. Tim's left his shorts, shirt and boxers on my floor. I ball them up and bring them to my face, closing my eyes and trying to feel his body next to mine like it was overnight. 20 minutes later Chris arrives. Larry flashes the keys to Tim's place and says we better get a jump on moving Tim's stuff. Chris and I follow Larry over to Tim's. I wish Chris had the Dakota he was driving again last week but he's back to his Neon. Putting the bulky furniture in the bed of Larry's truck and the electronics and loose stuff in Chris' car it takes us 5 trips back and forth to get everything.
Tim didn't fully empty his dressers so we put all his remaining clothes in Chris' car so that the drawers don't open and spew the clothes all over Houston. Chris teases me about a pair of Tim's boxer's with hearts on it, asking if I am going to swipe them. No, and the thought didn't occur to me. I was more keen on seeing if he left a jock behind! He in fact did leave all of them so I joke back to Chris that I was planning on taking one of them instead.
Chris eggs me on saying how kinky and perverted that is. The thought has in fact crossed my mind but I can't do that to a friend. That goes beyond being a pervert. After our last trip over to Larry's, Larry goes back to the apartment to turn over the keys.
I am ready to leave for work when Ma gets home from her job at the liquor store. Larry catches her at the door and tells me to get a move on, we're going to have dinner at the restaurant before I have to start my shift. I'd like to protest, but the hour plus I'd spend on the Sunday busses regularly does in theory give us enough time. How awkward this is.
Sitting in the restaurant with Ma and Larry while everyone I work with is working around me I feel on the spot. I guess Ma does need some sort of family deal though because her third daughter has just moved out today following Lacey and Deanna all in the span of roughly a month.
I don't get to finish dinner with them before my shift though, and I am actually changed and working by the time they finish dessert and leave. Chris and his family come in for dinner about an hour after Ma and Larry have left. Catching me on a washroom check Chris corners me. He flashes a devilish grin and suggestively tells me to guess what he's wearing as he brushes my hand over his plastic cupped crotch!
Hmm. Maybe I shouldn't have told him I'd love to wear one of Tim's! It's not noticeable under his baggy cargo's. Still, I'd rather be somewhere private with him discovering what he's wearing, and how and why it's not showing prominently. More so, I'd like to excite him to the point that it does become noticeable! But I have to work. I call him a tease, murmur `love you' to him and finish up my washroom check.
By the end of the night I am dead tired and falling asleep by the time the bus gets me back home. Even though it was the first week of vacation, it's been a long and emotional week.
[to be continued]