Hey, White Boy! or How Alex Met Jack

by Zustara Orur

A story (C) 2002 by ZUSTARA ORUR. Contact address: zustara@hotmail.com. Not intended for redistribution, commercial use prohibited!

This is my first attempt at writing something like this, and I would very much appreciate any kind of feedback (to above address), hearing from you would mean a lot to me. Thanks.

It features an unlikely cast perhaps, but who cares? It's just a story, and is meant to be taken exactly like that. Also, English is a second language to me, so please excuse any goofs present herein regarding grammar, spelling. I try to do the best I can!

Legal mumbo jumbo BS: this story features explicit descriptions of sexual acts between consenting male minors, and some crude language. All of the story (and its locations) are all completely made up, ie: none of these events ever took place, and no cute, furry little animals were harmed in any way in the process of writing this story either. If this sort of thing bothers you; you are under-age (and anybody cares about it); reading this story happens to be illegal wherever you may be right now; etc, please STOP READING. I won't get in trouble, but you might, who knows. If all is hunky-dory, feel free to continue, if that is your wish.

Special note: please be patient when reading, this story builds itself slowly, and takes intermissions between periods of action at times. I don't rush things! {VBG} It is a story with sex in it, not the other way around...


"What the he-!", Robert Kirchner exclaimed. "You actually agreed to this?" He waved the fax she'd just handed to him, which he'd been reading.

The balding, more than slightly overweight man seemed quite upset, and there wasn't much Susan Montoya could do to calm him down. "Sorry, it wasn't my call to make. The board went over my head", she apologized lamely. Susan wasn't quite as old as Robert, she was past fifty, but it didn't show as much on her. She had ebony dark skin, and her hair was still as black as ever - something she was very thankful for - and had it put up in an elaborate bun at the nape of her neck. She'd even kept her shape for the most part, perhaps growing a bit more "cuddly" as the years had passed.

Robert jerked at his vest, something he did at times since it tended to bunch up over his gut when he sat down. He did it more forcefully when annoyed, and there was almost the risk of him pulling a seam the way he did it right then. "If it had been your call, would you have agreed anyway?" His voice was deceptively calm.

It was a fair question to ask, and she probably would have. She said so, and Robert nearly went ballistic. Technically, they were supposed to be on the same level, he the Headmaster of John Higgins Junior High (or in its short version, JHJH; sometimes locally known as 'double-jay-aitch', making it sound a bit like a radio or TV station or such), she the Principal of John Higgins Highschool (which shortened down to JHH; not as snappy), both located on the same premises and well regarded as holding a high standard both materialistically and of teaching. However, in practice Susan was the one who decided what was to be done, when, and how, concerning many matters, especially those involving both schools. Some things was up to the board though, and this was one of them. Robert, being aware she was the one more qualified of the two, reluctantly took a step back in those instances, but it still didn't stop him from grumbling about it, and in some cases even resorting to yelling.

Not that it helped much though, if any. Susan was born into the role as administrator, a true pencil-pusher. She knew laws and regulations at heart, rarely needing to look anything up. She knew how to spend every dime so the school would get the best value for money in return, and she absolutely never, EVER, let her emotions get in the way of a decision. She considered it honorable to hold the needs of the school above everything else. It made Susan a fantastic bureaucrat, but she really wasn't anything near any other person would call empathic in most circumstances.

"You have to understand, Robert, there's a lot of money at stake here. The school board nearly peed their collective pants at the opportunity of doing a joint scientific study with a major university. This is a huge thing, a three-year sponsorship meant to increase awareness in theoretical subjects and appeal to budding young scientist minds, I'm sure you read the paper on it." Robert nodded and grimaced. "I'm talking major state and government grants here, plus private money, there's enough of it for us to set up a fund for five new scholarships per year with just a part of it all! It really IS a great bargain."

"I still feel we're selling out to these guys", Robert grumbled. "Plus, we got Wonder Boy as well as a part of the deal? Christ, I don't believe this!"

Susan couldn't help grinning, Robert was such a sour old cuss at times. She hid the mischievous grin behind her hand, pretending to scratch her face with a fingernail. She wasn't sure her camouflage worked, Robert cast her a dour look. "Yes, we get 'wonder boy' as well. He is the son of the two scientists leading the study after all. We should be honored they wanted to place him with us."

Robert still seemed upset. "I don't get this... Why would they want that, and why would HE want that? The kid has already graduated from university just about twice over for chrissakes, you said so yourself! And he's just thirteen! What could he possibly get out of starting school AGAIN, in a freshman highschool class?"

Sometimes Robert was so dense. She did not say that, however. Instead she said something quite different, she may be a bureaucrat, but she was still a woman. "Well, how about some FRIENDS, perhaps?", she asked quietly. THAT sure shut Robert up. "His parents thinks he needs to spend more time with kids closer to his own age."

"Well, maybe they're right, but he's still three years younger than anyone else on this side of the fence. At least three years! It's an insurmountable age barrier, you mark my words. And just who allowed him unlimited rollerskate use? They're banned on the entire school, but this kid can even use them indoors! I don't like to enforce double standards like this! So the kid's a goddamn Einstein or something, he can still use his two feet like other people, can't he? I saw him fly through here the day he came to visit, damn near gave me a heart attack." Robert ran out of air, otherwise he'd probably continued his tirade.

"I believe that was at the insistence of Jacques himself", was the calm reply. "He was quite adamant about it in fact, and the board granted it. And, he is an outspoken homosexual." When Robert gave her a blank stare, she sighed deeply. "Robert, the kid is gay, is that plain enough for you? We have to be aware of that, and inform the rest of the pupils accordingly so there won't be any problems."

Robert seemed flabbergasted. "GAY? The kid's thirteen, he can't be gay! That's just preposterous, boys hardly know anything about...sex...at that age, much less if they're gay or not!" Again, Susan was forced to hide a smile while Robert continued his tirade, this time using a sheaf of papers she happened to be holding. "Anyway, even if that was the case - ridiculous as it may seem - we'd be doing the kid the mother of all disservices by informing the entire school about it. The last thing any homo boy wants is for anyone else to know about it!"

"Never mind your objections, this is at the insistence of the Legrands, his parents, this time. You will address the pupils Monday morning at the latest and make sure they have all cards on the table. Also, point out that no harassment because of his sexual orientation will be accepted, the school board does not want to risk any negative media publicity in conjunction with the announcement of our partnership plans. We will look upon any such matters with utmost strictness."

"Negative media publicity, huh? We can't have that now can we?", he said sourly. Susan gave him a stern look that basically meant, 'shut up and do as you are told!'. "Very well", a subdued Robert agreed. "Monday, huh? That's just three days away. Is that when he starts?"

Susan nodded. Three days.


My name is Alexander Ross. Everybody calls me Alex though, and this is my story, the way I experienced it, or at least, the way I remember it. Goddammit, there's so much to tell, where should I begin...? Ah, okay. At the beginning, I guess...

It was still summer, school had only been going on for a little while since starting again after the vacation. One day, we were told a new guy would join us, some kind of super whiz kid if you want. A real smart fella, from France of all places. Of course, as it turned out, he spoke perfect American English as well. His parents were famous scientists they said, if there is such a thing. I mean, when do you ever hear about anything that a scientist has done? It wasn't anything that really concerned me though. I didn't even see the guy for three days after the initial announcement, and he kept rollerblading all over school, which is a pretty inconspicuous method of travel if I may say so.

As for myself, you already know my name. I'm sixteen, enjoying my youth and the effect my roguish good looks have on the girlies, chewing my way through my first year of highschool. I'm a bit of an athlete guy, not a true jock because I've got good grades too - haha - but only because I have to study real hard. It's not in my blood, but my parents want to make sure I'm well educated I guess... Anyway, I much prefer playing hockey, and I am the captain of the junior team in school, which gives me a certain amount of celebrity status around here. I may not be the truly greatest athlete in my school or the most popular kid by any means, but I don't complain. Hockey's a big thing where I live, which helps a lot of course.

I want to make some things clear from the beginning. First: I'm no faggot, alright? Never was, never will be. There's nothing I enjoy more than a naked, beautiful girl at my side, so I'm no closet homo. Anyone says so (it hasn't happened yet by the way), I make their nose bleed, period. Second: I don't particularly like faggots either. I'm no homophobe or anything (and yeah yeah, I've heard it all, those who don't like gays are gay themselves blah blah. See point numero uno), but I don't like them around me, especially in showers and stuff. I'm not afraid of being raped while bending over to reach for my dropped soap or anything like that, I can defend myself better than most (never lost a fistfight in my life). What I don't like is to be checked out by a guy when I'm nekkid, you know? I don't think that it's too much to ask, not to have to have my schlong and ass checked out by a dude, even if I don't even know I'm being checked out. I'm kind of private that way, so sue me alright?!

Anyway, I didn't see the guy for three days. Thursday, that was the day. It was fairly hot (we got inland climate, so temperatures can get pretty sweltering at times), me and my gang were walking from the main building towards the park across the road. That's when I saw him. I could not remember his name (it was some sissy French name, that I did recall). Anyway, no name or not, that just HAD to be him!

The first thought that crossed my mind was one of annoyance. Here's some strutty little grownup kid gliding around, going to school when he doesn't have to in order to pretend he's got a social life. How pathetic! To make matters worse, one just had to look at the way the kid dressed to see there was a big invisible sign hanging around his neck screaming "GAY!"

The guy had what looked a bit like some sort of deep blue neoprene bicycle pants on him that went not quite halfway down his thighs, but much slicker, clinging on almost like a second skin. More like a swimsuit really. On his upper body, he had a black tank-top of lycra or some other stretchy material, except it was too short and didn't cover much of his belly, which was, like other visible parts of him, a light brown in color like someone that had spent a fair amount of time in the sun.

Anyway, I'd never seen anyone dress like that outside a gym, least of all a kid his age. To make matters worse, he wore a short, unbuttoned jeans jacket on top of the tank-top, and even that didn't quite reach his waist either. The arms of the jacket had been cut off too so they were only short stumps, and it was RED in color, washed-out, sure, but still plainly RED. Goddammit, he was lit up like a beacon fire as he came idly rolling down the path we were walking. It was downhill just there, so he didn't have to work his legs at all. His 'blades were of a fairly fancy model I could tell, but extremely worn with scratches and gouges all over, like he'd really used them, been grinding away like a real street kid.

As for the way he looked... Well, I got jet black curly/wavy hair which pretty much does what the hell it wants, while his was kind of a deep nut brown color, straight as an arrow and parted down the middle. I can afford to wear my hair fairly long without it looking gay because it's curly and a bit unwieldy, and I make sure to keep my neck trimmed so it doesn't hang down and get all floppy and gay. The kid had straight, long hair. It looked very cute and very, very gay. I'm not much a fan of cute on guys. Girls - YEAH! Guys... No. He also had a black Nike sweatband around his head to keep the fringes out of his eyes, which made matters worse still. I didn't really get a good look at his face at my first encounter since it was so brief and chaotic, but what glimpses I got told me he looked alright I guess. Very much a kiddie face, of course, since that was what he was (and I was a real grownup! Who am I kidding?). Also, I am just about six feet in height (awright, more like five nine is closer to the truth), and I hadn't stopped growing either, making me an easy seven inches taller than Mr. Gay I figured, it was hard to judge accurately with him standing on those goddamn rollerblades of his.

The kid definitely had some serious muscle-tone on him for his age, that was for sure. And they said the guy was some kinda bookworm or something? I couldn't get those two pieces of the puzzle to fit together. I would say he looked very, VERY fit for a thirteen-year old. All that stretchy material and bare skin certainly showed off what was there, and it would have looked great in a gym. Outdoors? Uh-huh, no fuckin way! I wouldn't have wanted to be caught dead in what he was wearing that day...! He didn't quite have a washboard stomach, there was still a thin layer of subcutaneous (baby?)fat left on him, but the guy was really lean nevertheless. I congratulated him for that, I know what it takes to stay in shape in this Bigmac-ridden society of ours. Of course, he wasn't anything compared to me naturally, who has the Bod of a God, haha!

No, actually, I'm not THAT buff, no matter how hard I pump that iron, I can't put on really major muscle. It got boring working out so intensely, so I stepped down to two or three passes a week, but what I got is Rock Solid if I may say so myself, and there ain't exactly LITTLE of it either, on the beach I look quite swell I'd say. Anyway, I'm still growing, so I can't expect to become an Arnold just quite yet, and training too hard isn't good for me. ...Or so they say at least. That's why I only considered ONCE to try steroids. I may be an arrogant, cocky son of a bitch, but I ain't crazy. I don't need more muscles that bad even though some of the guys I knew and used to train with were on them and certainly got bigger too.

Walking accidents waiting to happen I say, and I tried to avoid them after I found out they were pill-popping like crazy. Besides, I had quite enough of a pimple-problem as it was, barely keeping those outbursts in check with various, undoubtedly toxic, chemicals was all I could do. If left unattended, I would become all spotty and unappetizing to the girlies, so I couldn't afford any more.

As the new guy passed us, he rose up on the front wheels on his 'blades, just to show off, I'm sure. If I had tried that move, even on a smooth surface like that cement path, I'd tumbled over right away I think (or at least started wobbling about, and being a hockey player, I do know how to rollerblade dammit!), but I'll be damned if I know how the hell he could ride on just the front wheels! It seemed quite stable and comfortable for him actually. He must have practiced that move a lot, something I also give the little runt due credit for.

We had been talking boytalk up until then, me and the other guys - which is basically the same as girl-gossip, except we were discussing manly subjects instead. Interpret that however you wish, but football, boobs and car engines were probably mixed in there somewhere in various amounts, I really don't remember. As the little showoff passed us, we fell silent, we were all literally stunned into silence. I mean, what the fuck? Was this kid for real?

I don't know where it came from. It must have been the "bad-boy" attitude I tried to maintain that reared its ugly head and I heard myself call out quite loudly: "Hey FAGGOT! ...Nice ass!"

Yes, I know we weren't supposed to tease the guy, but what the heck, one has to draw a line somewhere, right? Red jeans jacket on a GUY?!? And yes, he DID have a nice ass (girls woulda been all over him had he been a few years older - and not a FAG, of course). I am secure enough in my own sexuality that I can say to myself another dude has a nice ass. Doesn't mean I wanna TOUCH it or anything, don't be disgusting, and it does absolutely not mean I publicly go around pointing out every dude with a nice ass. As I said, I'm no goddamn homo!

Anyway, my outburst was followed by a thunderous roar of laughter from me and the other guys. Disappointingly, there was little, if any reaction from the newcomer. He merely turned his head around, said, "Bite me, white-boy!" and wiggled his hips at me! He even slapped a hand on his rump.

Now, there's a thing that happens to me when I get angry. My face tends to get very red, and certain blood vessels stand out prominently on my forehead and neck. Considering the reaction from my friends on this grievous insult, I was becoming very, very red indeed.

You see, I am one quarter Cherokee, and one eighth Mexican Indian (even though it through a fluke of genetics shows very little on my features, apart from a hint of the classic injun beaked nose and aforementioned hair color, but my skin is naturally more of the redneck hue than "true red" so to speak), so I tend to react rather badly when called things like "white-boy". Especially when it comes from the mouth of a sissy French FAGGOT kid!

Okay, okay. I'm no ethno-lover, and I don't know dick about Indian culture (well, hardly anything, some things can't help to rub off), I just use my blood as a good excuse to get really angry and beat up some stupid motherfucker who decides to ridicule my heritage. I have had that pleasure on a few occasions.

"Hey you!", I shouted back at him. "I wanna TALK to you!" Actually, I very much wanted to punch him in the face, but since I was already 'on probation' for a previous fight, and would likely get kicked off the team if I got into yet another one, I was hoping I would be able to restrain myself. At that point it didn't look very hopeful however, I hadn't had a reason to get angry in weeks, plus I tend to, umm, "overdo" these sorts of things when I haven't been able to let off steam for a while. Not that I've landed anyone in hospital or anything, I'm not a maniac, but I've sure dished out some hurtin' in the past, that's for sure.

"Catch me if you can!", came the teasing answer. His voice was just that; teasing. I'm fairly deep for a 16-year-old, but this kid sounded exactly like that. A kid's voice. It spurred me on. I'm a good sprinter, I was sure I could catch him if not before, so at least on the stairs leading up to the road going past our school. I was so very wrong. The kid obviously had had a lot of training on those 'blades of his, he set off at at least as quick a pace as I did, and as he reached the stairs, he was at a full run, taking them two or three at a time and was gone out of sight just as I reached the lowest stair-step! I wasn't about to give up though, the street beyond was fairly heavily trafficked so unless the kid wanted to risk going splat he couldn't just dash out I figured; he'd have to wait for a green light. There was a distance of about twenty feet or so from the top of the stairs to the roadway, and it was that far away I saw the kid standing when my head popped up over the topmost step. He was not turned with his back towards me like I would expect him to, ready to blade across the street. He was turned towards me, and as I came running up, he began skating straight at me! I was caught totally unprepared as I reached the topmost step.

There was only one thing to do. Actually, there were two things. I could stand there and take it in the chest as he barreled into me, then we could both tumble down the stairs again and break our necks. Uh-huh. Not an option!

The other thing was to fall flat to the ground and let HIM tumble down the stairs and break his neck. So I did just that. One and a half feet or so in front of me - possibly less - the kid took the biggest leap I've ever seen. He sailed right over me, arms outstretched for balance and legs folded up like the landing gear of an airplane (his 'blades neatly pressed up against that tight butt of his I could not help notice, but it was NOT an erotic thought damn you. Just one of those silly things you notice when things happen really fast and simply come to stay fixed in your mind). And then he whooshed out of sight.

I actually heard him land on the ground down at the foot of the stairs, a heavy thud of a sound. Not the sound you'd expect from a guy landing and then immediately tumble on his head, so I guessed - correctly as it turned out - that he didn't tumble on his head.

I also heard my little gang scattering like a bunch of wild, clucking hens to avoid collision. I quickly got on my feet, and saw him roll away at quite a speed. "See you 'round, white-boy!", he yelled out. I could not help grinning. Bested by a fucking brat, that jump must have been something like seven, maybe eight feet in height counting the drop down the stairs! I couldn't believe it if I hadn't witnessed it with my very own two eyes!

"Come on you queers, get your butts up here!", I hollered down at my gang. As they climbed up the steps towards me, I dusted off my clothes. My actions were to haunt me later that day however, in more than one way.


When we got to the park, I saw Jennifer sitting on one of the benches spread around the lightly tree-decorated grass. Jennifer was my GF back then (GF meaning GirlFriend, y'know, the kind you computer geeks don't have too many of, haha!), and you could say she still is by the way. She was great, I thought. No, correction: she was fantastic! A guy couldn't have asked for a better girlfriend than her.

Overall, she wasn't the most beautiful girl ever, my Jennifer (and she would not get mad at me for saying so either, she was quite the realist about it), but she had that particular SOMETHING which just catches your eye and holds it fast. I don't know what it'd be, but she got it all right. She was medium height for a girl her age, medium build, her boobs not that large and not small either, and fairly narrow waist and hips. She kept her ginger-brown hair long and straight, and so well-kept and shiny it almost sparkled. Maybe that's what makes you notice her, her hair. Her large eyes were equally exotic, beautiful green eyes like a mermaid's, and I loved them both. Her face, just a little freckled. Not much, but enough to make her incredibly cute, and she had a golden ring in her left nostril. It was something she thought of herself, I would have suggested it if I thought she'd ever consider wearing one, but one day it was there all of a sudden. She had that habit of surprising me out of the blue like that!

Oh - and one more thing. She HATES being called anything but her given name. We Americans tend to shed syllables off our names at first opportunity (myself included), but calling her "Jen", or something like that would only bring a look of severe disapproval. Naturally, I didn't do it.

She waved me over, so I sent the guys off in another direction. When I reached her, she asked pointedly, "Alex, what was all that about?"

"All what?", I said and tried to play it cool. I should have known better, Jennifer is a lot smarter than me in many regards. She wasn't fooled one bit.

She waved a warning finger in my face. "Don't try to get cute with me, pal! So you pick on little kids now, huh? Is that it? I heard what you called him!"

"Gee whiz Jennifer, I was just kidding around, you know that!" I was still acting stupid and not even knowing it.

"Kidding schmidding, Alex. He's just thirteen, and I don't want no goddamn klan member for a boyfriend! You better drop that pathetic act RIGHT NOW, or we are through, is that clear?" Jennifer hardly EVER swore. It made me wizen up real quick.

I knew she was deadly serious. Jennifer never made hollow threats, and she would make good of it too. However, my pride was too great for me to plainly admit having erred, I tried shrugging it off. "Alright, alright! I'm sorry, okay? I'll give the little-" I was gonna say, 'punk', but quickly thought better of it. "...A break, okay?"

"Don't tell ME you're sorry. Tell him!" She turned away on me, sending a clear signal I was not in her best favors right now. But I'll be damned if I was gonna apologize to that... That...! I bit my lip to stop myself from saying yet another clumsy thing that would screw up my relationship with Jennifer even more. I sat down on the grass below the bench, leaning my back against it. After a while, a hand snaked it's way into my hair and started toying with it. "Oh Alex... Sorry for being so hard on you, but I really mean it! I have had enough of the gaybashing, it's stuff like that that is turning our country into the mess it is right now!"

"Yeah, well, I suppose you're right", I said solemnly. "As always, it seems." And I HAD to agree with her. Not even two weeks earlier, a kid in another school in a more run-down part of town had brought a pair of guns with him from home and killed two other students and injured three others. One of those injured was a teacher, the other two had been fourth-grade kids visiting their brother; they had simply happened to be there in the hallway when the shooting started. Nobody knew how he'd managed to get the guns past the school's metal detectors and the kid himself wasn't talking. As he reloaded one gun, people tried to rush him. He pulled out the second which he had kept hidden, pointed it at himself and pulled the trigger.

...Didn't quite manage kill himself the poor dumb bastard, but he did put himself in a coma though, one he was unlikely to recover from. Severe brain damage. Permanent vegetative state... Those were bad words, I felt sick just by thinking about it. Thinking of blowing out one's own brains, living as a piece of meat hooked up to machines for the rest of one's life...

"Ah do hereby solemnly sweah ah will refrain from uttering such comments on future encountahs, Miss Jennifah Sarah-Anne Deblin", I said in what I considered my best fancy Southerner accent. It was atrocious of course, but the mood between us had become much too stuffy for my taste all of a sudden. I'm usually a happy-person, not suited for moods and brooding.

"Oh do try to be serious, Alex!", she laughed back at me. I could tell she was pleased I remembered her middle name. Her family was from the south, by the way. Me? I'm from nowhere.

I grinned at her. "I am serious! I've changed!"

The gang stood there like a buncha dumb fucks for a little while, not knowing what to do. Then they jeered at me (in a friendly manner naturally, coz I could beat them all up and they knew it, haha), and walked off, leaving me with Jennifer for a precious few moments until it was back to business for us all.

The rest of the day proceeded as usual. Last item on my schedule was hockey training. However, word of my little outburst had apparently spread, and reached the wrong ears at that, thus, after my last class for the day I was called away to Principal Montoya's office. I had to sit through a whole lecture on why it is A Bad Idea to shout the word "faggot" at another person in general, and at the school's most prized asset in particular, and had to respond with lots of "yes, Ma'am", and "no Ma'am", and "won't happen again, Ma'am". And of course, after getting more detention this year (whoo, wouldn't that make my folks happy), and what's worse, a formal inquiry into my conduct at the school. Apparently, I had quite a list of complaints written up against me, ranging from using foul language at teachers (that ratfaced Ms. Stybak, she goaded me into it on purpose, I swear!), to the odd beating of a fellow student during school-time. Yes, normally I keep my fights strictly off office hours, these were exceptions. All right all right, it only happened twice - and before summer at that - and neither of them was my fault. Dumbasses challenged me, and I get all the blame just because I happened to win. Maybe I should have taken it NOT like a man and gone bleeding and crying to the Headmaster like they did - NOT!!

Apart from bruises, I had managed to break two front teeth of one of the guys (which only improved his looks, if I may say so), and on the other... The right collar bone, it seemed. Dunno how the fuck that happened, he must have fallen while riding his bike on the way home and blamed it on me or something. Nobody even told me about it until right then in the Principal's office, which I thought was more than a bit unfair!

The reason none of those fights never had reached a legal status was that technically, they were considered self defense. I really HAD been swung at first, and those kids knew it. They got beat up fair and square and I even said so, but somehow that didn't impress the Principal very much.

Now, it was time for reckonin' it seemed (mainly because that particular kid I had yelled at today was a sacred cow and could not be touched in any way, shape or form), plus I already had a bad rap, and damn, was I beginning to sweat or what! After what felt like an eternity, I was finally let off the hook - for the moment at least - and could hurry away to hockey training. I was now rather late of course, and it was all my own fault too. Dammit, me and my big mouth.

All the other guys were already there, warmed up, lined up and ready. Due to the bad news I just had received, I wasn't even ready as I took my rightful spot at the center by bumping into Sanders who tried to fill in for me in this training match, and he sighed wistfully and skated off the ice. Bench-time for him initially, haha!

I looked up, and saw a masked face I did not recognize. Normally, only goalkeepers wear full facemasks, so this was rather perplexing to me I must say. I looked through the eye openings and saw a brown fringe hanging down on either side. God dammit! It had to be Wonder Boi himself, in full hockey gear too! Well, it fit with all his inlining at least, but he was just SOOOO out of his league here!

"You're going DOWN, squirt!", I whispered to him. There was no reply, but I had the feeling he was smiling at me, an extremely confident smile that meant something like, "give it your best shot, if you think you really can do it!" Not a taunt, mind you. Just a challenge, even a friendly challenge perhaps. Don't ask me how I could know all that, heck even I didn't know! I just did.

Yes, it just had to be him didn't it. Even with all of the protective gear on, he was still small. But he looked primed and ready, and after what I had seen today, I wasn't going to under-estimate him again. No way! He was going dooooowwwwnnn, on my terms this time!

He kept looking me in the eyes, our vision locking on to each other like two wrestlers. His irises were dark hazel brown in color (mine are almost black), the left eye had a darker spot in it. I tried not to let myself get too absorbed with our battle of the wills, I had to be ready for the puck to drop. His eyes were extremely deceptive. I wanted to stare into them to see if he'd flinch or even blink, it easily became more important than keeping 'an eye' so to speak on the real task at hand. Some people like to describe someone's gaze as 'intelligent', etc. This kid certainly had that in abundance if what was said about him was true, but there was nothing intelligent about his GAZE. He looked at me with relaxed, intense open eyes. Yes, that was the right word for it; intense. He had no worries, he was one with himself at that moment, something I certainly was not. I was almost squinting, my eyebrows pressed deep down with repressed anger. I wanted to bring him down so bad I could taste it in my mouth, it would make that shitty day feel a little bit better. Nobody could blame me if the guy got a bit knocked around in the hockey rink, could they? I wasn't going to over-do it or anything (if the school board didn't kill me for it, Jennifer would!), I was just going to show him he was a little fishy swimming with the BIG BAD fishies...!

Maybe that was why I lost it, I dunno. Maybe he outsmarted me, had me concentrate more on our battle of wills than on the hockey game.

I was ready for him snatching the puck away from me and dodge left, or dodge right. Maybe pass it to his teammates. I did never intend for him to even TOUCH it however, but I was ready for it anyway, just in case. The guy had jumped over me in a pair of rollerblades, that's not something you easily forget.

I was not ready for him to snatch the puck and dodge BACKWARDS. I have never seen a guy back off so quick before, I didn't even think it possible. Timmons had to scramble out of the way, and he was probably in on the trick, they must have discussed it in the pre-match tactics session.

It probably would not have worked had I been 100% alert, but his eyes tricked me, and dammit, that kid was fast on a pair of skates! But he still had to get past me to reach the goal. As players swarmed out to try to reclaim or defend the puck, I concentrated on the New Guy, I still couldn't remember his name. He only backed enough to confuse me, then he dashed madly to the right while two of his teammates homed in on me to block me. I tried to shut off the part of my brain containing my worries and gnawing thoughts and concentrated entirely on the game. It worked; things finally started making sense around me. I tackled one of the incoming guys easily and he went down on the ice with a crash. The other I tripped up with my club which isn't exactly fair but I did it in a way that made it seem the other player's error, Coach didn't blow his whistle. Then I went after New Guy in earnest.

He really was fast on a pair of skates, but I had the longer set of legs, and they were far stronger too, I gained quickly on him. Also, having to control the puck slowed down New Guy just a little. As I caught up to him, I prepared to send him into the sideboards with a tackle from the left/behind. It shouldn't take much, the guy probably weighed 30-40% less than me, well-muscled for his age or not. Something musta tipped him off though, dunno what. Maybe the sound of my skates on the ice, the noise of my breathing or protective gear creaking and rattling. Maybe all things together, because when I tackled him, he leaned into it. Of course, he still fell, but more or less straight down, not flying off to the side like I planned. Since I could not transfer all my inertia into his body, I got myself out of balance and had to literally stand on the brakes in order to avoid falling. Meanwhile, New Guy picked himself up and continued on unperturbed! I was furious.

The whole thing had only taken a few seconds since the match started, and New Guy scored almost immediately. Grumbling, I put it down to beginner's luck. After that, our own play improved drastically. I whipped my team into shape with sheer willpower (and the odd threat of physical abuse), and we barely managed to win by 3:2. New Guy was a fantastic player, but his stamina wasn't up to the task of hanging with us big boys. When he still had steam left, he was lightning on ice, but suddenly he would drain up and go flat. I grudgingly had to offer my respect for his talent, despite his physical shortcomings.

Training was finished with several rounds of penalty shots. Coach had managed to scrape up every moth-eaten, worm-ridden piece-of-shit puck in the arena, and we did our best to spread 'em out all across the ice. When the rest of the guys left to hit the showers, coach had me pick up all the goddamn pucks again and stuff them in a big plastic box he'd dragged out of some dusty storage room somewhere. I suspected there was more on his mind, and sure enough, I got another round of lecturing on the topic of faggots. God dammit, three times in one day! It was certainly a new personal record for me. No, make that "anti-record", since it was a record of stupidity. Turned out, Coach had much the same views on the subject I did, but he stressed the need for discretion. 'Shouting fgt!', as he put it - and pronounced it as a word, not three individual letters - all over the schoolground, would quickly get me into hot water, and while he did not WANT to drop his best player from the team, especially not over an issue such as this, he would do it if the school board asked him to. (Not that he had much choice, asking would change to ordering in an instant if total compliance was not perceived.) Well, that sure sobered me up quick as hell...

Finally, I was off for the day. I dumped the box with all the pucks just outside the rink itself. I figured, if he wanted to keep all that bullshit, he could carry it the rest of the way himself, wherever he wanted it stowed, the box was damn heavy. I clumsily stumped off to the locker room in my skates, and just as I entered, the last of my other teammates were leaving. They offered friendly gibes in the form of, 'the lost son has returned!', and wondered if Coach gave good head. I said, haha very funny guys, now fuck off before I bash in your brainpans. I wasn't sure if I actually was joking or not when I said that, I really did feel lousy at that time (even the victory over New Guy had soured), but they took it as one of my standard jokes.

I wasn't exactly in a good mood, and my day was JUST about to take a turn for the worse one could easily say, knowing what laid in store for me in the future. Like I needed any more...


I quickly stripped down, I just wanted to get myself clean and then get straight back home. I needed to impart some bad news to my parents, and get yelled at some more. I'm not the type that keeps things from my folks, and besides, they were going to find out anyway sooner or later. Probably sooner as it was, I wouldn't have been surprised to know a letter on the subject was winging its way to our mailbox at that very moment. I wasn't even gonna do any homework, figuring today had been enough of a disaster already, anything further I could manage would not add to it in any significant way.

I prefer cool water when I shower after a training session. I usually am very hot from all the physical exercise, so that brings me down to a more sane level. Not today, all that picking-up-pucks stuff and the speech Coach gave me had given my body ample time to cool off on its own, so now I was positively freezing. It felt uncomfortable in a way, suitable in another. I waited for the water-flow to turn itself off automatically, and began to soap myself up. Head first, then armpits, butt and groin... My hands lingered at the groin. It didn't matter anyway, I was all alone there, Coach never entered the even the locker room, nor showers. He was even more apprehensive about the watching of naked bodies than I was it seemed, he couldn't stand it himself I think. Some sort of phobia? Or maybe he had a thing for young boys and just didn't want to 'risk it' by gazing upon forbidden flesh, I don't know. Coach was an all-round OK guy by me, but he stayed the hell outta those areas of the arena. I got a nice amount of lather going, and cleaned myself quite a bit more than strictly necessary it seemed, because when I turned on the water again, I felt that familiar feeling of warmness pulsating from my dick.

Now, I don't know what ideas you guys might get into your dirty-minded little heads about a room full of mid-teen guys with buff, water-glistening bodies showering together. Lemme knock all those illusions right out of your silly skulls right now: there were no group masturbations going on in that shower, at least not while my team was in it. I had never been part of such an orgy, and of that I was proud. I had never seen another guy's erection either in real life (come on, all guys have looked at porn one time or another!) However, that did not stop myself from getting to a semi-hard state on my own that day. As I said, I was feeling pretty lousy, and a man's (or as it happens, boy's) best friend is often his dick, We're certainly best friends, me and my dick, we keep no secrets from each other. So as I sought comfort in him - not going as far as a full-blown hardon mind you, I still had some inhibitions about 'relieving my urges' in public places! - something happened that simply surprised the heck out of me.

I heard the distinct clatter of hard plastic hitting the floor; there was someone else undressing in the locker room! I don't know what got into me at that moment, normally I would almost have thrown a hissy-fit about prancing around with my wang sticking out straight in the air where someone else could see it, but I might have been so miserable I just didn't care. Or maybe I just forgot all about my excited state of mind, lost in curiosity over who it might be out there. Coach, no way. He didn't even wear any protective stuff, and as I said, he never entered our locker room PERIOD. Then WHO? I was certain I had been the last player to leave the arena! I let the water run at it's leisure (it would turn itself off in another thirty seconds or so anyway) and snuck a peek out through the open doorway.

Now, the locker room was laid out much like an "H"; there were single rows of lockers along the two side walls, and a double row spanning the middle of the room: one row opposite the entrance to the showers and the men's room, the other side opposite to the doors leading to the arena and to the outside. Of course, the middle row doesn't go all the way to the side walls or it would completely block off the inner half of the room.

There was the chance that whomever was out there was standing on the opposite side of the middle row, thus completely out of sight. That is, except for lower legs and feet, if I was to get down on my hands and knees and look under the lockers. Safe to say, I wasn't going to do that anytime soon, I'm not crazy as I've already told you guys.

No, the person was in full view, standing with his back to me, dropping item after item of protective gear and clothing on the floor. It was New Guy of course. Fuck. Of all people, the Source of All My Troubles, it just had to be him...

As he tugged his thin, sweat-stained inner jersey off over his head and exposed a rich expanse of damp, well-muscled back to me, something even stranger happened. My dick jumped on its own behalf, several times even. It had never done that before when I looked at a dude. I tell ya, scout's honor! Never I say! And I, the big fucking idiot that I was, didn't even notice the Clear and Present Danger I was putting myself in. I was lost in thought, absently studying New Guy's muscles play under his skin as he stretched languidly, his shoulder blades moving with the motions of his arms (still with his back towards me), his lateral muscles tensing as he flexed them teasingly. New Guy's skin was indeed tanned by the summer sun, not a very deep brown, but certainly more than me (who had been sweating away the whole summer loading shelves with wares in a fucking supermarket for minimum wage at that). And I was supposed to be the one with the Indian blood... But weren't French people supposed to be a bit dark-skinned anyway? Or was that only true for those living along the Mediterranean coast? I wasn't sure.

As I watched him, I was thinking something along the lines of: 'where has that little rat-fuck been hiding? In the arena amongst the rows of seats? I might have spotted him scrambling up there after training was over; I didn't. Doesn't prove anything, he could still have been there. I checked the player stalls before I left, there was nobody there at least. In the men's room? Yeah. Probably. The little bastard!'

I WASN'T thinking along the lines of: 'Geez! I must be really fucked up, I'm getting turned on by a fucking dude here! I'd better take like ten ice-cold showers right now and then get the hell outta here really really quick!'

New Guy was now busy dropping items from below his waist. He strapped or pulled things off, then tossed them lazily on the floor just like all the other stuff. Was he expecting his mommy the Super Scientist to come pick it all up for him? Or maybe they had a maid, I didn't know. Nevertheless, he was in for a rude awakening if he thought he could just do as he pleased here!

New Guy slowly lowered his puffy outer hockey shorts and everything else inside along with them. Just above his firm, rounded buttcheeks was a clear, distinct tanline. The skin below was almost lily white it seemed, in stark contrast to the rest of him. My dick jumped wildly as he continued to lower his pants almost tantalizingly, half an inch at a time from side to side, revealing more and more of that creamy white butt, and I came to realize he was wearing G-string underwear. Of course, it was almost to be expected of someone like him (but I'd never seen it on a guy before, the thought struck me as kind of perverse). But still, my body reacted violently to the revelation, muscles tensing on their own behalf, a shiver running through me from head to toes. It could have been from the fact I stepped out wet from a cold shower into chilly air and had stood like that for what felt like several minutes now. It could also have been from plain, wanton lust.

I had the most magnificent boner ever (normally when flaccid, I am a little shorter perhaps, but a bit fatter around than most guys my age. Yes, I still compare penis sizes of others with my eyes, if not my hands you sicko), and when erect I measure maybe five and a half inches in length. Now I must have been close to six, and my normally quite sufficient foreskin had shrunk away completely, absorbed by the swelling of my sex.

My organ was hammering with a life of its own and still my brain did not react. I must have been as brain dead at that moment as that idiot of a kid who shot himself in the head; my noggin nothing more than a big bowl filled with mucus instead of an intricate network of neurons flaring and fading billions of times a second.

New Guy merely dropped the pants to the floor and quickly but elegantly stepped out of them. The G-string came off in one smooth motion. I could see it leave a small depression across his magnificent, dimpled buttcheeks as the ribbon slid across them (perhaps purposefully? it seemed he rubbed them more forcefully across himself than he really should have had to). New Guy stood there in all his naked splendor still with his back towards me, and then, as he had done earlier that day, his head turned, and looking out of the corner of his eye I knew he could see me.

"I knew that was going to get a rise out of you, white-boy!", he said in an amused voice.

I was not surprised to find myself standing fully exposed in the doorway between the locker room and showers, no longer hiding behind the wall. And still I did nothing! I can't understand why I didn't simply gallop off in total shame, even naked as I was. Anything would, no, SHOULD, have been better than revealing myself to another male like this! New Guy turned around as slowly and tantalizingly as he had stripped. It was all I could do not to gasp loudly out of sheer erotic pleasure. And I wasn't even touching him! I could hardly breathe, it felt like an asthma attack and I had never experienced one of those in my life. I still knew what it would be like.

New Guy's frontal view was as pleasing to the eye as his back side, he had very nicely defined pectoral muscles, and his arms were well developed as well, although not excessively so. He was rather young after all, and his testosterone production wasn't perhaps in full swing yet. I'm no doctor so I wouldn't really know about such things anyway. The tummy, simply divine, begging for a hand to feel its intricate texture of smoothness on top, hardness underneath.

His throat and neck were endowed with long, elegant, stringy muscles, holding up a head far prettier than I had previously given him credit for. Me myself, I've never been described as a pretty-boy by anyone. Handsome in a rugged sort of way, yes, maybe even cute by some. But New Guy was PRETTY, and he knew it too.

His parted hair had become slightly tousled, long tests of hair clinging to his sweaty forehead in arch-shapes. His forehead was noticeably rounded, not almost straight as on many Caucasians, that particular part of his anatomy more resembling the skull of a North-African perhaps. The eyes were set fairly wide apart, and had an almond-shaped quality to them, but not as much as one sees in Asians for example. It was more a hint there than anything else. The eyebrows and eyelashes were thick, and black in color, the former arching almost regally in their beauty, the latter, long and luscious. His nose was perfectly straight and fairly small but also fairly wide at the base, radiating cuteness in the extreme. It was set between wide, rounded cheekbones. They weren't gauntly jutting out like they often do with lean people, they were still smooth like in most young children. The chin was distinctly marked all the way along the lower jaw, a classic beauty trait. It was also noticeably pointed in appearance. Finally, the mouth, a red cherry of immaculate perfection. Not thin as a boy's lips, not full as a girl's. Not very wide, it seemed perfectly suited to the rest of the face and seemed immensely kissable, horrid the thought would have been to me even just an hour earlier! The symmetry of that face was distorted only by a wry, knowing smile that only enhanced the qualities of those same facial features. "You like what you see", the smile said. "Good, so do I!"

New Guy was not sporting a full erection, although one could certainly say he was well on his way. It seemed as he purposefully kept his organ perpetually at a semi-stiff state just to continue to tease and tantalize me as I drank in his features. It certainly worked, I was as aroused as I had ever been before, and still I had not touched him. The member was indeed shorter than mine, but not by that much it seemed. It was considerably thinner however, and as pale as the skin inside the two tanlines. His foreskin covered the tip completely, or was there maybe a hint of crimson red on the inside? His pouch, small in the chilly air, was as hairless as the rest of his genitals and just a hint deeper in color but not by much. I wondered how that was possible, the boy certainly had hair under his arms - which I had noticed earlier. That was another part of the puzzle that was him and did not connect for me.

Slowly New Guy walked towards me. Was he exaggerating the movement of his hips? I wasn't sure, the sight was enough to make my breath catch in my throat all over again. He now stood almost close enough for me to feel the radiant heat from his body, and still I did nothing. Well actually, I did lots of things. I gasped and trembled and shook, both with chill and excitement, my heart pounding with a ferocity I had not experienced even during my most intense sex act with Jennifer or any of the girls that had preceded her, nor during the most exhausting hockey match I'd ever played. It was completely illogical, and I was quite frankly scared as hell by it all. Girls, THAT I knew, this was too different... It was...sensory overload, too much too quickly too soon, and I could not do anything except stand there.

It took New Guy's voice to break the spell. It was a simple statement, delivered in a very matter-of-factly voice, accompanied with that small knowing grin I had felt even through his face mask earlier that evening.

"You can touch it, you know. You know you want to..."

As if on cue - and come to think of it, it probably was - his semi-erect dick gave a little jump. Almost mechanically, I stretched out my hand and grabbed hold of it. Immediately I was filled with it's heat and life, it throbbed in my hand, growing, stiffening as blood from his body surged to fill it to its absolute limit. It was the most wonderful sensation. It truly was alive, a living thing, in my hand. A small whimper of pleasure nearly crossed my lips even as I realized exactly WHAT it was I was holding. It still had hardly dawned on me.

"Oh, by the way. My name is Jacques", he said with some mirth, pronouncing his name in an overly exaggerated French manner, quite on purpose I suppose, "But you can call me Jack if you like. You Americans usually find that easier."

I was dumbstruck. I was holding the guy's penis in my hand and he was striking up small talk. "Uh-o-okay", I managed. Then it came. The. Most. Stupid. Thing. Anyone. Ever. Said. EVER. In the history of mankind! Especially in a situation like I was in, a stranger's hard-on in my hand, my own dick standing on attention like a fucking flagpole!

"J-just because I do this doesn't mean I'm a faggot or a-anything", I blurted, and really TRIED to make my voice sound firm and assertive. I felt ridiculous the very second I'd uttered the words. I immediately flushed a crimson red only a few shades paler than my own swelled dick head. New Guy, Jack, I thought he was going to laugh straight out. It certainly seemed he was struggling not to. Then, his calm and polite demeanor apparently won a victory and he simply smiled at me.

"Yeah, right." That was it. That was all he said. The grin however spoke volumes it seemed. It said, "You like this, white-boy! You LIKE this you big bad white-boy you, and don't you deny it!" And I did, I could not deny it, and even though it ALMOST shames me even now to admit it, it was actually the most exhilarating thing I had ever experienced.

I still felt like the biggest idiot there ever was. "Ah... U-a-and by the way", I stammered like a fool, still holding on to Jack's pulsating penis, "My name's Alexander. But you can call me Alex if you like."

"Yes, I'd like that", he replied. "Enough talk for now however...!", he demanded and put his arms around my chest and pressed himself close, real close to me. From that point onwards, there was no turning back.


We moved together back into the showers. One of us, I'm not sure who, got the water going again. Hot this time, almost scalding hot. Damn, I was so horny I couldn't even think straight. My hands were all over him, first touching his delicate face, planting a small kiss on those precious lips of his. It felt strange, electrifying, to kiss a guy on the lips, something I haven't even done to my father, ever as far I can remember. Men just don't do such things I used to think. I felt my dick rubbing against his both soft and hard tummy as our bodies squeezed together, touching his dick too. My dick, when it reaches full erection, it pretty much stays plain hard, but Jack's... I could FEEL his rapid, excited pulse in it despite its stiffness. I closed my hand around it again, feeling it. It still was shorter than mine, and thinner. The skin over it was soft and smooth, much looser than mine. Gently, carefully, I pulled back his foreskin, which still covered his dick head. It felt...strange, it made my knees weak. I suppose a groan slipped out of me, and suddenly I felt his hands on my butt. They seemed as curious as mine, gently touching, squeezing, caressing the sides and back of my body.

The inside of the foreskin was pinkish in color, and his dick head was a deep crimson red, much in contrast to the rest of his organ. The knob was fairly short and rounded, and very shiny somehow. Water from the shower seemed to roll straight off it. As I let my hand wander up the shaft, I heard him sigh softly, and when I reached the head and gently rubbed it with my hand, those goddamn brown pretty eyes of his rolled right up into his skull, I swear! A louder sigh came out of him, his head tilted backwards, and his whole body shuddered slightly. I quickly took the opportunity to kiss him again!

"Look who's excited NOW!", I crowed triumphantly. "Li'l gay-boy is!" My comment may have sounded flippant, even in my own ears, but I was so amazed that I could bring pleasure to this curious creature that it was all I could think of to say.

New Guy Jack smiled that strange, knowing smile of his back at me. This time it meant something in the way of, "I'm just getting started here buddy, just you wait and see!"

He grabbed me, where I had previously expected no male to ever touch me, and as stupid as it sounds, as soon as his boy hand encircled my dick, I came. Yup. Yessir, like a fuckin' beginner, I could not help myself. My groin seemed to seize up, and then I was filled with an almost painful hotness as jizz started pumping out of me. I really have no idea how bad I sprayed him because my eyes were closed out of the sheer pleasure of it all. It felt like I emptied my whole damn body though, and when it was over, immediately, relentlessly, Jack went down on me.

Usually I go limp really quick after ejaculating, and the same thing started happening here. I never had time to deflate entirely though before Jack's wet warmness enveloped my member. With his tongue he quickly coaxed it back to life, not that it needed much coaxing mind you, I was still as aroused as I've ever been, and this was an entirely new sensation.

I've had quite a few blowjobs before, but by far this was the most satisfying. Jack wasn't the most skilled person technically I suppose, but... Well, I guess it must have been the kinky-factor at work here. I just never expected to get my dick blown by a guy, and this forbidden sensation just made it so much better. It was all I could do to stay upright as wave after wave of sexual pleasure coursed through me. I'm sure I would have squirted straight into his mouth had I not already emptied myself just moments before, but that did not seem right to me. I wasn't quite there yet I suppose, forcing a boy to eat my cum. Anyway, by then I was so out of my skull of hormone-driven animalistic excitement, at that moment I would have humped anything standing on either two or four legs I think.

There was something quite at hand, and a very pretty thing at that, and I didn't even blink as the thought crossed my mind. Pulling Jack up, I turned him around and was just about ready to... Eh... Mount him, when he spun around on me again!

"Non!", he said. Very firmly, but in an utterly cute way. "You can't do that."

"Why not?", I asked almost petulantly! "It's not as if I never butt-fucked anyone before! I can be gentle!"

"Mon cherie", he said teasingly - I wasn't sure if he actually meant it or not - and laid a hand on my face, his thumb gently caressing my lips, "You are too big for me. I would not want to risk you...damaging me." When had he started speaking with a French accent? I wasn't sure. It seemed all right and proper, somehow.

"I take it you are a virgin then?" What an utterly rude question to ask.

He nodded. "Oui. In the manner you are speaking of, yes."

Yeah, he could be right I suppose. As I felt myself start to cool off, to come down from that geostationary orbit I'd been flying, I realized it probably wouldn't have been the best of ideas. Suddenly, I felt insecure again.

He saw this change in me, and immediately remedied it by putting his arms around my neck and hoisted himself up. He crossed his well-developed and extremely shapely legs over my ass. I put my hands on his firm butt as he started rubbing himself against me, while planting kisses on his well-muscled chest, especially the nipples, which I found particularly enticing.

My arousal was back at full strength. I touched him as I'd never touched a lover before, my hands roaming across his beautiful boy body, not getting enough of him. We both grunted with lust, then groaned as we started climaxing (me for the second time). I felt myself quite near the edge, and feeling Jack tense up, I held him very close as his orgasm made him spasm. I must have dry-ejaculated just about then, because the seconds thereafter became quite hazy for me. We held on to each other after that, Jack sliding down enough so we were on eye-to-eye level.

The water had stopped again, but we were so hot despite that, it would not have mattered anyway. I looked into his wonderful, sexy brown eyes and saw my own feelings reflected back at me in them. Dammit! What was I feeling here, really?!? Please oh please, tell me it's only lust, not love! I couldn't stand it if it was!

Hot tears welled up in my eyes, I could not do anything to stop it. I was so much in turmoil, traces of sexual excitement still dancing around in my mind along with the confusion over the acts I had just taken part in. I cried, I admit that. It started out as a sniffle, then rose in intensity until I bawled like a baby, and my knees gave out on me, making me slide down along the wall until I was sitting on the floor. All the while, Jack was there speaking soothingly in French to me, touching, caressing doing what he could to calm me down, while I wasn't understanding a word despite actually having studied the language (although without putting much effort into it I must admit).

Finally, my breakdown had reduced itself to a shuddering whimper, I thought I was back in control again.

"It's OK", Jack said to me, gently stroking me as he sat in my lap. "It's all right, I'm here with you." He was back to his normal (?) American accent again, which made me more comfortable I think. I felt his body, smooth, strong and warm where it touched mine. The other parts of me were growing cold from being wet and exposed, sitting as I was in chilling water on a ceramic tile floor.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm alright now", I said, my voice husky. Trying to move with Jack still firmly placed on top of me. I blew my nose in my hand and scraped off the goo against a metal grate.

"Oooh! Look at the mess I made!", he said and giggled boyishly. Yeah, I had a patch of sticky, icky stuff stuck to my stomach, now starting to dry and get even stickier and ickier. Jack's flat tummy was equally decorated. He grinned at me, not his usual, much too grownup grin, but an entirely childish one, like he knew he'd done something naughty but had enjoyed it anyway. I could not possibly stop myself from smiling back, then starting to laugh. It felt good. Yeah, I was still kinda confused mind you, but it did feel really good, being able to laugh like that. I think, if I hadn't laughed right there and then, I would have become so frightened by my experiences I would have gone away somewhere and harmed myself in some manner. The guy with his blown-out brains was not present - at least in my conscious mind - at that time, but maybe somewhere deeper down. Anyway, I started feeling good about myself again, relieved. As I've said before, I'm not suited to brooding.

"Don't get up! Just wait right there, okay?" The kid scuttled off out into the locker room, it sure was a sight to behold. I heard him rummage around in his bag out there, and he soon came back with a bottle of shampoo. I already had mine of course, his stuff seemed a lot fancier, the bottle was a deep orange-yellow and the front sticker full of garish colors, silver print and stuff. It probably was quite expensive.

I got up off the floor and turned on the water, a more sane temperature level this time. I washed off Jack's semen from my body as best I could while feeling him standing there nestling in right beside me. It felt good. I patted and stroked him on his shoulders, massaged his beautiful neck with both my hands. My dick began to harden again, but I didn't want more sex right then. It was purely my body's reaction to the stimuli it was receiving through my skin, not from any conscious action on behalf of me directly.

"Would you like me to wash you off?", he asked innocently. Damn that kid! Of course I did!

I took up his bottle and started reading. I saw things like aloe vera extract, re-moisturizing formula, pro-vitamins... Lavender scented. "Lavender scented!" I scoffed loudly. "What is this bullshit? You're not putting any god-damn lavender scent on me!"

Again, he gave me that smile of his. I instinctively knew what it meant. "Yeah, maybe so, but it sure as hell will turn YOU on one fuck of a lot to soap ME up with lavender, white-boy!" Yes, he was right, as kinky as it sounded, it would feel really good.

"Hugo BOSS, man. No god-damn lavender here in this bottle!", I said and held mine out to him.

"Suit yourself!", New Guy Jack replied with a laugh.

We got to it, being more efficient rather than erotic I would say. As he massaged my dick with shampoo, I had a giant hard-on of course, but we didn't concentrate on it. We sure ENJOYED the experience, but we weren't over-doing it if you know what I mean. As I felt Jack's groin area, I noticed a very faint trace of stubble. He was shaving off his pubic hairs! Ah-HAH! I felt like pointing it out loudly, but I could tell he knew I knew just by looking at his face. Yes, that slight grin again.

As for me, I'm kind of semi-hairy I guess one could say. Not so much on my upper body, but I got hair on my legs and ass (but not on my back, thank goodness), some on my lower arms and a small string going up from the groin to my navel. Jack was almost entirely clean. Not that he shaved his entire body, his hairs were so fine they almost weren't there at all.

I silently wondered if mine bothered him. If so, Jack hadn't said anything about it, so I plain decided it did not. Actually, I had never even thought much of my hair before, "it comes free with the rest of the package" had been my attitude up until that moment. Maybe I should...? No. Hell no...! I couldn't believe I was even contemplating it.

We rinsed off together and moved out into the locker room. Here was another danger signal I should have been watching out for, if I'd even been listening for it at that stage (which I wasn't). I actually took all my stuff and moved it across the room next to his locker, just so I could be close to him for a little bit longer.

We got dressed in silence, simply enjoying each other's company. We touched now and again, just a pat on the rump or a caress of a cheek every now and then. After Jack had strapped on his rollerblades, he shouldered his big hockey bag and I almost thought he would get crushed under it, he seemed so small in comparison. But the guy had strength in him, I knew that by now. Before we exited, we kissed again. Damn, it felt so nice. It wasn't a true French kiss with tongues and all that, it was just a long, good-feelin' All-American kiss out of a classic Hollywood movie. I held one hand on his neck just where it connected to his head, and let the other wander down to his shapely butt and let it stay there for as long as the kiss lasted. Jesus, I still could not understand what I felt for that guy, so all I could do afterwards was to grin stupidly at him.

As we separated outside the arena, Jack said to me, "See you 'round, white-boy!". That was his goodbye, then he skated off into the distance. I stood there like a big idiot, watching him disappear. Then I shook my head, hoping it wouldn't be too long until next time we met.

Coming home wasn't too fun in comparison. My parents love me and all, but they get quite upset when I behave badly, and I did get yelled at big-time this time to be sure. They did calm down later however and thought it was good of me to admit what I'd done on my own, and said that we'd fix this somehow. But they sure weren't happy about it at all. I think it was just as bad knowing I had disappointed them, as getting yelled at. Worse maybe, because the yelling stops eventually while disappointment lingers.

Next day I was suffering awful pangs of guilt. I had been unfaithful to my girlfriend, and I hadn't even been bothered about it when it happened! What should I do? There was nothing else than to admit what I'd done - yet again! - however hard it would be. She would hate me for it, I knew it, Jennifer was so strict with things like that. She'd said if she ever found out I'd been fooling around with another girl she'd kick me in the nuts hard enough to prevent me ever having children. I believed her too, and Jennifer had up until now been just about the only thing I seriously cared for, apart from the rest of my family.

We didn't share any classes even though we had several common subjects. Our school is too big for that, so the only chance I had to see her during the day was when there was a break. At lunch, I went to the park where we usually would meet up. I looked around for Jack on the way there, but the kid in the red jeans jacket was nowhere to be seen. I wondered if he had stayed home today, or where he might be.

I found her sitting under a tree in the central portion of the park. There weren't many around that day, which was a bit strange as the weather was fantastic, but good too since I feared there might be some loud shouting going on in the near future.


"Uh, Jennifer...", I started. I was feeling horrendously guilty, and even though I dreaded it, I knew I had to discuss this with her right away; I DO try my best to be as honest I can in a relationship. "I think I have something to tell you, and you're not going to get very happy about it."

She looked up at me. "Is it about Jaques?", she asked. (She spoke good French, and fair German too. As I said, Jennifer's a smart girl.) My breath caught. "Yes, I think I know what you're going to say." She had this peculiar look in her eyes, like she was watching a stranger standing beside her.

I felt somewhat relieved. "You do?", I said. She was obviously thinking I'd insulted him again or some stupid thing like that.

"Yes, he came to see me this morning. He told me what happened yesterday and wanted to know if he'd messed anything up between you and me, and if so, to apologize for it. He was quite sincere about it actually." Her voice was sterile, void of all emotion. I could not tell what she was feeling.

As I heard what she was saying, I froze solid. I absolutely Could Not Move. My heart started beating fast, my blood pounding in my ears. Not from excitement mind you, but out of pure terror! "Sssoo, you already know...?", I managed to press out through stiff lips. "How the hell did he find you anyway? I never even told him I had a girlfriend." Actually, that last part, I'd intended to keep inside myself, but it came out anyway. Argh!

She frowned at the implications of that statement, but it was entirely lost on me. I was too damn frightened for myself and my reputation to notice it. "DUUHHH, hello!?!", she said, clearly annoyed. "I guess he might have ASKED someone, like, 'does Alex Ross have a girlfriend?', 'what's her name?' You know, the guy IS pretty smart after all, unlike some other people I won't mention here and now." Yes, one could say she was fairly ticked off. Not that I'd blame her the slightest of course, it was all my fault after all.

"Oh. Sweet. Jesus." I was a dead man. A gay kid had asked around for my girlfriend. I was so fuckin' dead. Even if I could get around the inquiry without being thrown out on my ears, I would be the laughing stock of the entire school!

Some of my thoughts must have been plain to see on my face because with an annoyed look on her face, Jennifer tugged on my arm to make me sit beside her. "Oh will you relax, Alex?! He could have seen us together yesterday for crying out loud. Stop worrying about yourself for a second will you!"

I sat down next to her. I wanted to put my arm around her shoulders, but I just couldn't. Not after what I'd done. My feelings for her were completely unchanged, she was as hot as ever. More so now perhaps, now that there was an invisible barrier between us.

"Technically, this constitutes infidelity I would think", she said flatly, refusing to look at me.

"We're not married", I offered jokingly. It fell horribly flat on its face. "...So, are you very angry?"

"Angry... Not so much angry as disappointed I think." Yeah. Just like with my parents. I sure do know how to fuck up... We were quiet for a little while, then she said, "You know, for a guy who shouts 'faggot' at someone at noontime, then goes on to have sex with that same guy in the afternoon, that's really a change of heart. When you so flippantly said you'd changed yesterday I did not believe you, but it seems you really did mean it after all!" She laughed a little and I tried to laugh and her laugh turned into sobs.

No, it wasn't so funny after all. She was so amazing it made my heart ache. Here I go and ruin everything for us, making her cry and all (and even I wanted to cry, but I blinked back the hot, stinging sensation in my eyes), but she got herself in control really quick again. She never did like to cry in public or otherwise, to wet her face. It was considered a weakness in her book I think.

I offered to wipe away her tears, and first she refused. I feared she was going to reject me there and then, to ask me to leave and never even look at her again, but then she reached out and guided my hand which was still holding the paper napkin - the very hand that yesterday had held Jack's stiff member - towards her eyes, and let me dab away the wet spots. A moment of uncomfortable silence followed.

Suddenly, she asked this really weird question... "Was it good?"

I knew what she meant, I think. "The sex?"

She nodded faintly.

"God-like I would have said, if I wouldn't be so totally embarrassed about the whole thing!"

She stroked my forehead tenderly, moving aside the more boisterous curls of hair. "Oh, Alex... Stupid, stupid Alex.", she said, affectionate in a way even. Yeah, that pretty much summed it up I think, stupid Alex.

I was thinking she would forgive me, in time. And I would do anything - ANYTHING - to win her trust back and keep it forever. And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is as strong a promise I could ever hope to make.

"Jesus, Jennifer, I am so sorry." I think she could tell I was being sincere, because her hand clasped around mine; we were bonding again, silently re-building our common roots. "And by the way", I said after a while, with a mischievous grin. "He seduced me you know, it was NOT the other way around!" She dropped my hand in order to punch me in the shoulder. Hard! "OOWWW!", I yelped.

"Oh yeah? You believe that if it makes you feel more comfortable you snake!" She could have been mad at me, but she too was grinning. Didn't I tell ya she's wonderful, my girl? Well anyway, we didn't speak much after that, there was just one question from her, and it was very direct. Other than that, we merely sat against the tree, holding hands like it was the most natural thing in the world. I felt her warm, soft skin against mine, and I was starting to become comfortable. Not just with the Jennifer-and-me situation, but with what had happened yesterday too, and even the thought I might start to get known as New Guy's bitch around the school. I just didn't care at that moment. All that mattered was making Jennifer happy again.

Then some of the guys I used to hang with turned up. "Hey, Alex!", Lefler said. "We've been looking all over for you man, and here you are, making girls swoon as usual!"

Well, it seemed my reputation was still intact. Damn, it almost made me disappointed. I laughed in a generic way at his comments, exchanged a few words with the guys and sent them on their way. I wanted to be alone with Jennifer right then, for as long as I could.

Oh yes, her question... Yes. She said to me, "Do you want to do it again?" I didn't answer, but I think she knew anyway.

The rest of lunch break went quickly, and as I entered Mr. Nichol's class - he was our English teacher - he took me aside at the door. "They want to see you, Ross", he said quietly. "Please go to the Principal's office."


"Y-yes, Sir", I said. "Right now?"

Mr. Nichols nodded his lean, almost bald head just once. "RIGHT now." He was a good teacher and an decent guy, not mean in any sense of the word, but I could see he meant business now. He'd probably heard too about 'Faggotgate' as I had come to think of it, and that had probably changed his view of me I think. I regretted that, as I said, Mr. Nichols is an OK guy. There aren't too many teachers I could say that of, and it would be unfortunate if this made it one less. I took my leave and hurried off. I had no trouble finding the way, I had walked it a number of times before.

"Alexander Ross, is it?", the Principal's secretary asked in a dry, mechanical voice, and I responded. She must have recognized me from yesterday, but she asked anyway. "They want you in the conference room, it's just down the hall there", she said and pointed to her left.

The walls were clad in wood paneling here, rather fancy. The rest of the school was more spartan, but I guess the brass wanted to have their areas a bit more luxurious. I knocked at the door, and a voice replied, "Yes, come in!"

I opened the door, and felt my heart sink. There was a whole bunch of people there, and I was all alone. They were going to squash me like the bug I was, I was sure of it!

The room was shaped like a rectangle, it was quite a bit longer than it was wide and the door which I had entered through was at one of the short ends. The opposite wall held tall windows framed by thin white curtains that barely blocked any light at all, the view outside was of the small Teacher's garden behind the main school building, with trees, hedges, flowers and stuff. Walls and ceiling was all dark wood paneling, with wall-mounted old-style lights on the sides. The middle of the right wall was decorated by a portrait of John Higgins II, the founder of the school. The floor was some kind of black, or possibly dark gray stone. A long hardwood table stood in the room, complete with a whole lot of chairs around it and some lamps with hemispherical shades made of frosted white glass.

"Do come in properly, Mr. Ross", the man sitting at the far end of the table, behind the windows, said. "We've been expecting you." I entered fully, and closed the door behind me. "Have a seat", the man suggested and pointed at the chair directly opposite himself. He was dressed in a strict business suit, seemed to be in his mid-fifties, thinly built and with a receding hairline, 'Dracula style'. With that, I mean his hair kind of retreated back only at the sides of his forehead, creating a point parallel to his nose. He kept it slicked back, and together with his lean, hawkish features and steely eyes he reminded me a bit of an image I'd seen once of Anton Szandor LaVey, the guy who started the Satanist church. It kind of made me chilly, not that I'm a really religious/superstitious person in any way, it was just the grimness of the situation, I think, that made me feel that way.

I wasn't sure, but I'd probably seen him before at times but I wasn't certain. He had probably given speeches on the last day in school before a summer or winter break or such, I never pay much attention at such ceremonies.

"Ah, uh... Thanks", was all I could think of saying. I began to study the faces belonging to my execution squad. The man who had spoken to me was the head of the school's board of directors I think (and I could not remember his name). The Principal, Susan Montoya, and Headmaster Robert Kirchner were both there, just my luck. I don't think either of them were particularly fond of me as I had had reason to see them both on occasions before. Two others were there as well, people that I'd never seen before, a man and a woman. And New Guy too! I hadn't spotted him until just then, perhaps because he was sitting between the two people I didn't recognize, and he wasn't wearing his red jacket! Instead, he was dressed in a quite strict attire, a dark, knitted cardigan thingy with buttons at the neck and a white shirt underneath, and - I think, it was hard to see with him sitting down - dark chino pants or something. Those other two - his parents, maybe? They seemed quite strict, and as properly dressed as Jack was.

My heart sank, I'd never expected to have to face his parents over what I'd done! They probably weren't too happy about my outburst either.

Anyway, let's just say I had a lot of unfriendly eyes pointed at me at that moment, and I was feeling sweaty, nervous and miserable again. The chairman took up a pair of reading glasses and put them on low on his nose, fingering his notes. "I see you have managed to build yourself quite some reputation around here, although not in the manner most would have expected...", he began.

"Yes, Sir, I understand, and I want to add that I'm re-" The lanky guy cut me off with a sharp look. It was clear he hadn't meant for me to speak. I fidgeted and didn't dare to continue. 'Really sorry for what I did. It was stupid of me. I'm sorry Jack, please forgive me!' That's what I WANTED to say.

"Well, I'm sure you know all about what this meeting is about, so let's cut straight to the chase shall we. Normally we would take more time with a matter such as this, but considering the severity of it, and", here he lowered his head and stared straight at me with those steely, penetrating eyes of his over the rim of his reading glasses, "...Your aforementioned track record, we decided to expedite matters. As of the week after the next, you are hereby expelled from this school."

I went completely numb. People continued talking about 'setting an example', 'unacceptable behavior' and 'keeping up the moral standards of society' and things like that. I even answered questions and pleaded not to be punished in this manner. Yet they were all adamant. I had to stand up and take the consequences of what I'd done (and it wasn't the first time I'd done foolish things either they reminded me, they'd given me plenty of chances to better myself already), and they needed, as they already explained, an example to show up. The university deal was at stake here it seemed, although I didn't understand how my thoughtless comment could have jeopardized that whole thing. They were probably over-exaggerating, using it as an excuse to get rid of a troublesome student I figured.

Even though I technically was allowed to attend school for another week, I wasn't expected to show up. In fact, they encouraged me to leave right away, and only take time to clear out my locker. And, of course, I was off the hockey team too. I just sunk down in the chair and hoped they would be finished quickly so I could leave that awful place. That was easily the worst moment of my life.

Suddenly a bright voice I didn't expect piped up. I'm sure you all know who I'm talking about here, yeah, it was New Guy of course. "I have a different suggestion", he said brightly.

Heads immediately turned to look at him. Not many kids command that level of attention from grownups, but he did it. "And what would that be?", the chairman asked. Not in that derogatory manner many grownups have when asking just that very question of a minor, but an intrigued one.

"Let him stay in school, and as punishment have him spend a couple hours every day and do his homework with me instead, to teach him homosexuals are human beings too. After all, what could he possibly learn from his mistakes if he was simply tossed out on the street? It would likely just make him even more angry."

The reactions were immediate. People began buzzing amongst themselves until the chairman cleared his throat loudly. "Are you sure that is such a great idea, Jaques? Mr. Ross has documented violent tendencies, and-"

"I'm sure he'd never attack me, Mr Peters", Jack replied calmly, looking straight at the chairman. "Besides, we spoke yesterday after hockey training, and he apologized for insulting me and calling me a faggot." People's eyebrows certainly raised after hearing that word out of the mouth of a kid. Jack turned and looked at me for a quick moment. I sure as hell hadn't apologized for anything yesterday, but his words, and the look made me feel warmer inside nevertheless.

"Well well...", Mr. Peters mused. "But Jaques, why didn't you say so before?"

Jack shrugged in a boyish, innocent manner. "Maybe I felt like keeping Mr. Ross on the grill for a while, Sir. He deserved it after all, apology or not." I felt like guffawing out loud. He hadn't forgiven, nor forgotten my insult yesterday in the showers, but now it seemed the slate was cleared. That was his way of telling me just that.

People started laughing at that comment, I could not help myself grinning. The sly little minx, he had planned this all along, I was sure of it. Doing homework with him, damn that cute little bastard!

Mr. Peters took off his reading glasses, slowly folded them up and put them down on the table. "Then it is all settled, I guess. ...Unless the Legrands have any objections, that is?" He turned to the people sitting next to Jack. They turned to their son, and started speaking quietly in French. I couldn't actually make out what they were saying, and even if I did, I'm not sure I'd understand it. My French isn't very good after all.

"No objections from us, apart from you keeping a close eye on Mr. Ross here, and his future conduct", the woman said. Her accent wasn't quite as good as Jack's I noted, and she had dark, almost black straight hair. Her husband, which seemed to be about her age, in his forties, was a lighter brown in shade, and a little wavy. They were both fair-skinned. Jack certainly seemed to be their child, taking traits from both of them. I was starting to grin here, feeling my luck had changed for the better.

"Very well then", Mr. Peters said. "Susan...? Will you please announce the verdict, this is your territory after all."

The Principal gave him a glance. "Alex, you'll get two hours of detention each day for the next six months." Aaaw man! Two hours! "These you will spend here on school grounds, in the company of Jaques Legrand, and possibly an assistant teacher from the school if the Legrands so choose. You will be allowed to continue attending your hockey training, but your two hours must still be served even if it is after training. If you do not accept these terms you will be forced to stop attending JHH, is that understood?"

"Yes Ma'am. I understand completely." It was clear as day to me. Jack grinned back at me, he even winked an eye. Nobody seemed to notice.

The Principal did not seem as amused however. "Please note, Mr. Ross... One more step out of bounds, and you WILL be thrown to the sharks, that I promise you. This is your last warning, and your last chance. Your detention starts on Monday, so you have today and the weekend to yourself to think things over."

I still smiled as I replied, "Yes Ma'am, I will behave, I promise."


Oh fuck! I felt as if I was walking on fluffy white clouds as I left that dour conference room, alone. Even though they had dismissed me, they stayed behind to discuss...well, whatever. My behavior, undoubtedly, and why it was wrong, and A Bad Thing to give a guy like me another shot at it. In the hallway, which was completely deserted since everyone else was attending class, I heard a strange, faint rumbling sound coming up from behind me, I looked behind me and saw Jack gliding along effortlessly, he was wearing his 'blades even with those fancy clothes on.

"Wow, isn't that great?!", he asked and took my hand as he casually turned in a circle-motion around me, facing me with his feet sticking out in either direction. His momentum spun me around half a revolution before friction stopped him.

"Well, 'great' isn't perhaps the word I'd use", I said and squeezed his hand a little. It felt good, doing it in a public place like this when nobody else could see it. "Two more hours a day in school, and with a teacher at that... Well, it could have been worse I guess."

"There won't be a teacher, Alex. I'll make sure of that. I can probably get us to spend that time at my place too, or yours if you'd like."

"Well, uh..." I suddenly felt my face flush with embarrassment. "I'm not sure... Jennifer, you know...", I added lamely.

Jack grinned mischievously. "You don't have to worry. We can be just friends too if that is what you want."

Strange thing is, I DIDN'T want him just as a friend! I wanted to feel him again, hold him in my arms, and despite Jack's nonchalant demeanor, I think he felt the same as well. But I couldn't go there if it would mean hurting Jennifer again, because she was as important to me as Jack just had become. I just didn't know what the hell I was supposed to do...

Jack must have read my face like an open book, because he gave me a look of intense sympathy and squeezed my hand in turn. "Well, until you decide, Alex, your little secret stays safe with me", he said solemnly. I knew what he meant by that, and felt comforted. He squeezed my hand again, then slowly let go. "You probably should get back to class", he added.

"Yeah, thanks. And by the way, I really am sorry I called you...that...yesterday."

Jack gave me a boyish, innocent grin. "Think nothing of it, my friend. I have already forgiven you."

I blushed up to the roots of my hair. "Uh, well... Thanks again, for helping me in there... I, ah, I guess I see you 'round then?"

"Monday, at the latest, white-boy." And with that, he was off again. Those pants of his fit him as well as the stretch attire I'd seen him wear the day before... It was strange how my way of looking at him had changed in just a little over 24 hours.

Damn, Monday afternoon was both a very long way off when I thought of Jack, and so close, so close when I thought of Jennifer... Fortunately, I managed to catch up with her at the end of the day. Or rather, she caught up with me just outside.

"Hm, are you guys getting off early today", I asked. Jennifer studied drawing on Friday afternoons and we usually didn't see each other because of that.

"I cut class today, I wanted to talk to you." I was very surprised, she never did that under normal circumstances. "I asked Nicole to tell the teacher I had a headache and had to go home. I wouldn't just leave without a word you dummy." She hooked her arm around the dummy's arm, and we started walking.

Ah. Of course! I smiled sheepishly. Yes, it would have been uncharacteristic of her to simply walk off. "Well, I survived Faggotgate, they're not going to impeach me", I replied.

That made her laugh. "Is that what this is, 'Faggotgate'? I had no idea it had been blown up to such proportions, Alex!"

"Neither did I until after lunch. I came THIS close to being expelled, you know." I held out my hand with thumb and index fingers nearly touching. "I think that qualifies the incident to be labeled Faggotgate." I made sure to keep the capital 'F' prominent.

"Geez... I didn't know! Expelled?"

I nodded. "New Guy, Jack, he saved my ass, literally. Made them consider a different punishment, which is what I need to talk to you about." I explained the detention plan to her, and I could see she wasn't particularly thrilled about it. "As you can understand, I need to know that if the thing that, uh, happened, were to happen again you know... How would you react?"

She frowned. Any other girl would have said something like, 'how the fuck would you EXPECT me to react, jerk!', slapped me and walked out on me. Jennifer... Well, she merely asked, "Assuming I knew about it, I suppose?"

I nodded. "I wouldn't keep secrets from you, you know that."

She seemed even less thrilled now, if possible. "Hmm, that raises a whole lot of new questions, doesn't it? For starters, are you in love with him, Alex?"

I got extremely uncomfortable. "I'm in love with YOU, Jennifer!", I assured her as sincerely I could. It was the truth after all, god-dammit!

"All right. Let's just say - as an example! Don't blow your top here or anything - that you're in love with both of us, okay? Then what? You are aware he's a minor, aren't you?" I shrugged. So what, so was I! "This is a real quagmire you're getting yourself into, buddy-boy."

Well, I certainly agreed to that. We discussed the quagmire a bit further, but I couldn't stop thinking about the issue she'd raised. Did I really love Jack? I wasn't sure there was such a thing as love at first sight (or even love after having watched someone strip down naked and then had hot steaming sex together), when had I come to conclude I loved Jennifer? I'd certainly been attracted to her right away. When did that change into love, what had been different from now? I wasn't sure anything was different, except she certainly hadn't let me bed her on the first date, or even the seventh. I liked that about her, she was so assertive, so strong-willed.

She could also be uncomfortably blunt at times too. "So, have you had, like, intercourse with him or what?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin at hearing what she said. "Jesus Jennifer, what's that got to do with anything?!"

"Just answer the question! Or are you chicken? If that's the case, why don't you just say so? We don't HAVE to have this conversation you know!

That was so evil of her, forcing me to answer! Of course we needed to have that conversation, I wouldn't be able to sleep again if we didn't, And she just had to go and ask such a question? I sighed. "No, I'm not chicken, but do I ask you what you've done with other guys you've been with? Of course not!" I wasn't sure she'd even been with anyone else but me, but I tried to sound offended and to make it seem like it was her fault. "...But, F.Y.I. no, I have not had INTERCOURSE with him...! He wouldn't let me." I really shouldn't have said that last thing, it was an open invitation for her to continue the current topic. Motor-Mouth Alex strikes again...

"But you wanted to, didn't you?" I'm sure she was just teasing me now, but there was no hint of it on her face, she seemed as serious as ever. Well, I sure HOPED she was teasing me.

"What is this, twenty questions?!", I asked back, my face blooming red in color.

She sniffed at me. "Alex, The main thing is, I'm as unsure about this as you seem to be", she replied calmly. "I do love you and I don't want to be without you, and I'm sure you're speaking the truth when you say you love me. And then there's Jaques..." She used his true name still, even though I did not. "Should I pretend he doesn't exist, that you being with another guy doesn't 'count', and simply let you frolic around with him as you wish? I don't know!"

"That's a very unfair thing to say, Jennifer!", I admonished her strongly, almost angrily. "I don't want to 'frolic around' with him, that's not what this conversation is about!"

She blushed a little. "Yeah, sorry. That was a bit inconsiderate of me I know. But that's how I feel, dammit! Please try to understand what it is you're asking of me!" It took a lot to make her swear, so I had to take her words for it.

"I do understand, and please believe me when I say, I would have stopped thinking about him and only concentrated on you, like you deserve, if only I knew how! That's why I'm opening up my heart and soul to you like this. This isn't easy for me either, dammit."

She stopped and turned towards me, then she reached out with both hands and caught my own, and with a strange sadness in her eyes and voice, she said, "But Alex, then you ARE in love with him. Don't you see?"

And I guess I did.

I, Alexander Howard Ross, was in love with a boy. That was the scary truth, so help me whatever deity there might be out there.


I'm sure that you who is reading all this has noticed a certain change in the way I express myself in these later chapters, compared to especially the first. It's something I did on purpose, not just in order to show the growth I went through as a person (or so I should hope, at least), I'm also reliving a time of my life which will never come again... It makes me think back and see myself as the person I was.

Yes, I would think I grew, with me discovering that I am bisexual, loving both a boy and a girl at the same time. At the time, it did not feel as much as growth however. It was more like an explosion, and I was barely able to hang on!

So, what happened next? Well, me and Jennifer, neither of us could really figure out how we should tackle this new situation. She did promise though, she would not dump me - at least not immediately - if I happened to stray off the straight and narrow path again, but she could not say that would hold true forever. I understood, and I was so happy, because Jennifer really was the light of my life. It was such an unique situation for both of us, there wasn't any cookie-cutter that fit it, no recipe with bullet points detailing exactly how to react at every step. We simply had to make things up as we went along.

She asked me jokingly how many times we two had had sex together. I wasn't sure, ten, fifteen, maybe? We had been together for months, yet we did not sleep together that often. When we did, it became so much better because of it I think. Still, she continued, and said she would not get jealous as long as I did not sleep more with Jack than I had with her. I did not believe her, and I'm sure I wasn't supposed to either. But it shows what a unique girl she was, that she'd even consider saying such a thing, even as a joke.

Did it turn her on, thinking of me and him together? I hardly even dared to consider the thought, but maybe. Maybe it did, and that's why she hadn't told me to fuck off as soon as she saw me earlier at lunch, and was willing to cut me some slack too... Well, nobody's perfect. So what if it did make her excited? I wouldn't think any less of her because of it!

I looked at her pretty, lightly freckled face, put an arm around her shoulder and drew her in close. She smelled good, a bit like Jack's lavender shampoo, and that made me relax. She put her arm around my waist, and in such a manner we walked home to her place, where we separated. It wasn't the time to go inside with her even just to touch or snog a bit, but we separated as good friends. No, more than that; as lovers still, I believe.

I went home to my place, it was quite a bit of walking to do from where she lived, but I had things on my mind so I hardly noticed. My parents didn't come home until later, and my kid sisters were out playing somewhere I think, they weren't around the house at least. I just laid down on the bed and thought things over until I felt like I was like a small rodent, running around and around in a little wire wheel like crazy, not getting anywhere. I had to get up and do something, so I started on my neglected homework. It did not go well, I had too much on my mind to be able to concentrate properly. All I could think of was how me and Jennifer was going to be able to stay together, and running my hands over Jack's well-muscled buttocks.

When my parents got home, I again explained what had happened that day, and that I was not going to get expelled. They took it fairly well, at least they didn't yell any more at me, but they were curt in their responses, still disappointed in me. Mom said I was grounded, for how long they would decide later, and I didn't argue. It did feel unfair, I had apologized and I was already going to get punished with more schoolwork, grounding me on top of that was excessive. But as I said, I didn't argue. I guess a part of me felt I did deserve it after all. Hockey training, school and detention, that was all I was allowed. Hanging out with friends, no. Hanging out with Jennifer, no. After dinner I went upstairs to my room and sat down with my textbooks again, hoping to do better progress now. Really, I couldn't, but I still tried.

Saturday was equally bad, my kid sisters annoying the hell out of me, constantly teasing me with their sing-song 'Alex is grounded! Alex is grounded!' until I was ready to burst a seam. Fortunately, mom stopped them just in time and shooed them out of the house. I barricaded myself in my room and didn't come out for the entire day except to eat and visit the bathroom. Not much homework was done that day either.

Sunday, now that was different...

Expecting more of the same as the day before, I kept to myself. Mom was away to meet some of her friends I think, and chat with them or whatever the heck they did together, leaving dad to watch the kids. I did not include myself in that description. Around midday however the doorbell rang, and I wouldn't have gone down and answered it if my dad hadn't shouted, "Alex! I'm on the phone god-dammit, go get that will ya!", from downstairs. I dragged myself out of my chair and went out of my room for the first time in hours.

New Guy Jack was there to visit me, and I didn't know what the hell to say.

"Hi!" That was what HE said. He was wearing a pair of blue Adidas football shorts and a different tank-top today, one without any sides on it, also blue, and it showed off his tanned arms and chest quite nicely. He had his 'blades on of course, but not the red jacket. The sweat-band was back on his head as well I saw, plus a pair of weird, bluish-shining mirror sunglasses with integrated headphones that he had pushed up on his forehead.

I just stood there for a few seconds, blinking. "Uh, hi", I returned in utter surprise.

"Wondering how I found out where you lived, are you?" He giggled. Obviously, I was. "It wasn't too difficult, my parents got the entire school file on you, address, grades and everything. Oh boy, have you done a lot of stupid things or what, that file was like half an inch thick!"

"You read it, I take it?", I asked calmly.

He nodded, and I felt myself blushing again. So okay, the kid knew all about me now, not only what I looked like naked, but my background as well. So what? I tried to shrug it off and pretend I wasn't annoyed.

His smile faded. "Sorry Alex, I can see you're upset... I guess I shouldn't have. After all, that is confidential stuff."

I kept my sour look on for a second or so longer, then my face cracked. I started grinning, how the fuck could I be mad at him? "Ok, apology graciously accepted dude!", I chuckled. "But what the heck are you doing here?"

He shrugged. "Well, I don't know. I was bored and thought maybe we could watch a DVD or something. I brought one." He held up the package for me to see.

I was surprised again to say the least. "Well, uh... We don't have a player, just a ghetto VCR", I had to admit. My parents weren't really that well-to-do, it was all they could manage to afford the house and send us kids to school. Actually I wouldn't have been able to attend a place like JHH anyway, but my dad got an inheritance from my uncle who died a couple years before, and that kept us buoyant. That's why my folks got so upset when I misbehaved because they worked their butts off to keep me fed and clothed, and that was how I repaid them, by almost getting myself thrown out of school. Yeah, I wasn't too bright at times.

Anyway, Jack was ready for my response. He showed me what I expected to be a portable CD player hanging on a strap that went across his chest and over the shoulder. Sony DVD Discman, it announced on the die-cast aluminum exterior. I could see the cord leading up to his glasses. LCD screens in a pair of sunglasses, that was hot stuff!

I goggled. "Dammit kid, that thing must have cost like five hundred bucks!" His smile told me it was a LOT more than that.

"So, are you interested or what?", he wanted to know.

"Yeah sure, but... Well, my dad's home, and my sisters are a pain in the ass, we'd never get any peace..."

Jack shrugged absently. "Okay, we could go to my place then. I have a better player there." Actually, he wasn't bragging at all when he said it. It was just a plain statement.

"Except, my folks have grounded me", I complained. "I'm not allowed to go outside again until I'm fuckin EIGHTY."

Jack lost it. He laughed harder than I'd ever seen him do up 'til then, he almost fell on his butt, standing as he was on his rollerblades but I managed to catch hold of one of his smooth arms, and that stabilized him. "Oh man, I'm so sorry! You have my sympathies..." I couldn't stop myself from joining in.

Just then my father came along to see who it was I was spending so much time talking to. "Alex, who's this?", he asked, not suspiciously, more curious I'd say.

"Hello Mr. Ross!", Jack said readily, having quickly recovered himself, and stretched out his right hand as he smoothly skated up to the door. "I'm Jack, the guy who landed Alex in a tub of hot water." Christ, I'm so happy my dad has no idea how close to the truth that statement was!

My father seemed even more curious now, shaking Jack's hand. "So, is that it, huh? Well, you two certainly seem to be quite well acquainted, despite what happened..."

Jack nodded with a smile more meant for me than my dad I think. "Yes Sir. That matter is behind us now. I came to see if Alex was allowed to go watch a movie with me at my place."

"Well, he IS grounded...", my dad started.

"Aww PLEASE dad?", I begged. Something I hadn't done for years might I add. Kids beg things of their parents, I wasn't a kid anymore. Fuck, I was even allowed to drive a car if I'd had one. (I had my license at least!)

"Hmm. I really should check with your mother, Alex. I'm not sure if she..." He looked at me suffering, then he suddenly relented. "Oh all right then, I guess just this once. But don't get any ideas in your head, strictly speaking you're still grounded!"

"Thanks, dad!", I said and gave him a quick hug, then I rushed off up the stairs. "I'll be right back!", I yelled down to Jack. I snatched my own rollerblades from the closet (a low-end model in the range, but they served me well enough), and sprinted downstairs again.

My dad passed me in the hall on his way out back into the kitchen. "You boys have fun now, but be back in time for supper. Don't make me regret giving you a break like this, ya got it?"

"Yeah, I got it."

I hurriedly strapped on my 'blades, anxious to get going. Precious seconds I could spend alone with Jack were ticking away! Funny, I wasn't thinking about Jennifer anymore all of a sudden.

I noticed a fresh scab on Jack's left knee, and pointed at it.

"Yeah. A little accident", he agreed sheepishly. "Nothing serious. Now, let's go. I'll race you up the block, okay?"

I agreed, and as we left my house, we set off down the street. Jack's acceleration was phenomenal, but my top speed was greater. I won fairly easily, which he gave me full credit for. We slapped each other's backs, congratulating each other for a good race. As we continued, I put my left hand on his right shoulder, feeling his hard muscles working under the skin as we skated along. Yes, living sure was good right then.

Jack's parents rented a big, white house up on the west hills, it wasn't quite a truly luxurious neighborhood exactly, but it sure was a whole number of notches above my place. And it was uphill almost all the way there, which made our legs ache, as well as puff and pant heavily when we finally reached our destination. The house was considerably wider and deeper than my parents', three storeys high above ground (plus a basement), and it had a double garage. However, Jack's parents didn't have any cars, so these weren't used for anything else but storage, Jack told me on the way. Eventually, they would set up a computer center there in the basement so they'd be able to more efficiently continue their study, but everything was on hold at the moment because the installation of the fiber-optic cable for their internet connection had been delayed. Jack prattled on, and I didn't catch much of it. Not that I'm a computer illiterate mind you, they just don't interest me much that's all, and I didn't own one myself. I didn't even have any video games.

Jack gave me a small tour of the grounds, which were fairly impressive; the house had a very well-kept garden with a tall, dense hedge around all sides except the front, and quite a lot of fancy flower arrangements. We came to the back side, and the first thing I saw was a big fucking trampoline, green in color. Not one of those wussy things you can buy on the home shopping network and use indoors, but a real one, like those Olympic competitors use. It was square, and like nine or ten feet to the side or something, I mean, really huge. Next to it was a sizeable swimming pool, and beyond that, a small, round garden pavilion, also white. The garden also had a number of fruit trees placed seemingly at random amongst the flower arrangements. I could see a few different kinds of apple, plus pears and plums too.


We went to the back entrance, a set of double doors made of many small panes of glass set in a common wooden frame, and when Jack opened them, he called out, "Mom?! Dad?! I'm home!"

"Don't you speak French with your folks?", I asked him quietly.

He nodded. "Yeah, usually. My dad's English isn't too good. Anyway, I want to tell them I have a guest with me."

"Just come in boys, it's all right", I heard a female voice coming from somewhere inside the house. I recognized it as belonging to the woman that had spoken at that awful conference room meeting. "But take off your skates outside okay, because I don't want any stains or smears on the carpets."

"Sure, mom!"

"You'll have to entertain your guest by yourself, Jaques, your father and I are quite busy."

Jack grinned at me. "Yes, we'll manage!"

I strapped my 'blades off, glad to be rid of them at that stage. Damn, I do consider myself a good skater, but right then I was just about spent! And my feet were almost killing me! Sure, I hadn't been wearing my skates for a while, but one would think they'd still hold their shape! Damn cheap things, I'd have to buy something better, and soon, if me and Jack were going to keep visiting each other.

I left the rollerblades on the outside and cautiously followed Jack. The big room we had entered had parquet flooring covered with thick Iranian and Pakistani rugs, so his mother's warning had been quite proper. The room was densely furnished with English Victorian-style heavy wood furniture, and there were oil paintings all over the walls, little porcelain cups, silver and crystal decorations everywhere, potted palm trees, fancy colorful silk pillows on the sofas etc. It was too over the top for my taste, yet quite impressive nonetheless in a way.

"You guys can't have brought all this crap from France!", I heard myself saying, my eyes big as saucers. "It would have taken up a whole airplane for just this room!"

Jack grinned at me. "No, we're renting the house furnished, it belongs to a colleague of my father. He's away, working in South Africa right now. But let's go to my rooms, shall we?"

His ROOMS. Dear mother Mary, was the kid always used to this standard of living? As I passed through the house, it was clear that whomever owned it had spent a whole lot more money on the inside, than on the outside. Sure, the house looked fairly posh from the street, but that wasn't anything in comparison to the view I had now. Pretty smart actually, I must say. Why pay big bucks for an address in a fancy neighborhood, when you can spend it on piling your home full of antique junk instead?

I never saw either of his parents as we walked through the house to the big, oval stairs leading to the upper floors. Opposite of the stairs was the front door, and coming down from the ceiling two stories up through the stairwell was a big chandelier. On the other side of the front hall was the wide entrance to the library. I couldn't call it anything else than that, and from where I was standing it looked like another big room, this time not full of furniture, but books. Mahogany bookcases reaching from wall to ceiling, filled with volumes upon volumes. There was NO WAY anyone could have had time to read them all even in a whole lifetime, I was sure of it!

The curved walls around the stairs held more paintings, smaller this time, and brass candle holders that looked as old and expensive as everything else in that place. The walls, as mostly everywhere else it seemed, were painted shiny white if they were not dark wood, and every corner and intersection had dark, wooden support beams as well with a deep, rich grain in it. I had no idea which kind of trees they had come from, but they must have been beautiful!

We went up to the top floor, and I found there wasn't such an abundance of things spread out all over the place, it looked more like a normal home in my opinion. Probably, whomever owned the house didn't spend much time on that floor, or else simply hadn't scraped together enough cash yet to fill up the entire house with the same kind of pointless trappings as on the two floors below.

We continued down a short corridor and turned to the left. A fair-sized room opened up, one that I immediately recognized as belonging to a boy. Directly in front of me was a wall with three big windows in it, letting in a lot of sunlight, and giving me a view of the pool area if I was to look down. A modern-style black leather couch with a frame of chromed steel rods was placed on a rumpled rag-rug, right in the middle of the room. In front of the sofa was a small, empty coffee table with coke rings plainly visible on it in the sunlight reflected off its surface, and in front of that, a big TV set. I saw a pair of jeans tossed in a corner, and there were bookshelves along the empty walls with worn pocket books, more DVDs, a lot of CDs and comics, and a HiFi stereo/video system as well. Not an extremely fancy audio setup, but still far better than anything I would have been able to afford with the money I'd made during the summer. It had four-speaker Digital AC-3 surround, and a decent-sized sub too standing in a corner. I was fairly impressed!

While I admired his stuff, Jack dumped his rollerblades near the jeans, then merely stood there and studied me as I continued to tour his abode.

Two more doors were present, one leading to Jack's bedroom, the other to his private bathroom I noticed (since neither door was closed properly). The bedroom was located in a corner of the house and thus had windows in two walls. It wasn't nearly as big as the room I was standing in, and had a fairly small bed in it. I got the feeling that his bedroom actually was meant to be a closet, dressing room or something like that for the REAL bedroom, the one I was standing in.

At the far end of Jack's bedroom was a desk with an elaborate computer setup on it, and the remaining wall was covered by yet another bookcase, this time filled with what I would have called tomes. Thick heavy books on complicated subjects for the most part, even those that were fairly thin seemed thick and heavy to me.

I could not help myself asking. "Why me, Jack? Why me of all people?"

He knew what I meant, of course. It seemed he always did. "Perhaps you pinged extra strongly on my gaydar", he said simply. I was sure it was a joke.

"Hey, watch it kid!", I said with a grin and pointed an accusing finger at him. "I'm not a homosexual, alright?"

He simply shrugged, a very faint trace of a smile on his face. "Whatever", was all he said. "Maybe it was fate."

I shrugged too, and to cover the strange silence that followed, I picked up the DVD box which Jack had casually tossed in the couch when we entered.

'RONIN', it proclaimed in bold, red letters. I had never heard of it, and I said so.

"Oh, really? Well, it is a couple years old now. You were probably too young when it came out, probably more into Disney Club stuff back then I guess."

I didn't comment that, I merely glared at him. He was just giving me a friendly jibe, but I decided not to play along on purpose in order to try and ruin his fun. Haha, my little revenge. I recognized the word of the title at least. "This is Japanese, right? It means dead samurais or something, right?"

Jack giggled. "Not quite! It is the word for a disgraced samurai without a master."

"Oh." I decided to try out the couch. It looked thin, somehow, hard and maybe uncomfortable, but as soon as I sat down in it, I sank down into it and found out it actually was rather pleasant.

Jack continued. "Anyway, it is an European movie one could say, even if it was made by Hollywood. It takes place in France, Jean Reno is in it too by the way. I think you'll like it." Jean Reno? That guy from that kooky 'Leon' movie? I didn't want to ask.

European movie. French? It had to be a weird flick, even if DeNiro was on the cover holding a gun. I said that too, and Jack grinned at me. Not sure if it meant I was being ignorant again or not, I just thought he looked cute. I considered stealing a kiss off of those pretty lips, but it would be too much of a bother to get out of the couch again.

"I think there is a car chase in there somewhere at least. As I said, I think you'll like it."

"A car chase huh? What, in a French movie? That'll be the day..." That showed how much I knew about foreign film... Jack on the other hand didn't say anything, I guess he didn't want to spoil the surprise for me. Meanwhile, I took a closer look at the cover. "Jack, this movie isn't even rated PG-13, it's rated R. Do your parents really let you WATCH this stuff?"

He shrugged. "Sure. It's just a movie, it's not for real."

Well, if it was rated R, it couldn't be half bad I figured, even if it was French. Probably had some Can-Can chicks in it or something, flashing their boobs.

Jack went over to the windows and lowered a set of chromed blinds over each in turn, reducing the room to dusk. After closing all doors, it was almost night-time. Holding his magic wand (no, not THAT magic wand, silly), Jack pointed at the TV and stereo setup, and woke it all up from sleep mode with a few clicks. The disk tray rolled out and gaped open, ready to accept its meal. Jack plopped down the disk, and then dove down into the couch, almost landing straight on top of me.

"Easy, fella, easy!"

He giggled again and pressed the Play button.

As the movie started, we snuggled up close together. I put my arm around his shoulders in the dark, letting it creep in under his tank-top to caress his bare skin. He sighed softly, and contentedly rested his head against my shoulder. I had expected the movie to be a poor excuse to make out and maybe more in the dark for a while, but as the action started I got so hooked I almost forgot about the sexy boy sitting right next to me!

"Hey!", I complained loudly. "This isn't a French movie, they're all speaking fuckin' English!"

"I never said it was. I said it takes place in France, there's a difference", Jack replied coyly. Well, he got me there...

One car chase in there, he'd said. Right... Gunfights, detective work, skulking around, car chase upon car chase, explosions, spectacular crashes and plain blood and guts. Ronin had it all. I was totally hooked. It was slick like a Hollywood production, but different somehow. Maybe it was like Jack had said, that it was like an European movie, I wasn't sure. I had never seen any. Maybe it just was the fact it didn't take place in the US, but on narrow and winding city streets in the Old World, and on narrow and winding country roads too for that matter. And nobody was driving Ford, or GM. It was all Euro brands. That probably helped too.

I still had time to caress Jack though despite the thick action going on on the TV screen, and as the movie went on, he managed to creep up into my lap so I could feel his nice thighs. He put one arm around my neck this time, giving me both my hands free to explore him.

I was wearing a pair of jeans that day, so if I wanted him to fool around with my wang it was going to be a bit complicated. Jack however only had his Adidas shorts covering his private parts, and not even a G-string underneath them. His erection was easily noticeable early on, making the flimsy fabric tent upright. I relentlessly toyed with his sex, bringing Jack to the point of orgasm several times during the course of the movie. I was a total ass in that way, leaving my friend shuddering and blinking, sanity returning to his pleasure-maddened brain when he himself had expected to ejaculate violently any second. I could tell he liked it, his dick head and foreskin had become completely covered in slimy pre-cum, lubricating his loverod nicely. It did not bother me, the stickiness, quite the opposite. I was literally feeling HIM upon me, and that feeling was intensely exciting.

In between, he would tense his buttcheeks and move around a bit on my lap, giving my dick some stimulation too. It wasn't nearly enough to really get me off I'm afraid, but still the best the situation could offer. He often kissed me on the cheek, or on the neck, slowly and tenderly. I too urged to touch his lips again with my own, but I could not tear my eyes off the TV screen, the movie really was that good. Strange, but true!

'Yeh stupid shite! Yer a dead man!', Seamus uttered just moments before he got what was coming to him. What a totally cool thing to say. There was now only minutes left of the flick, and my attention began to wander. Not able to stop myself, I sought out Jack's mouth. Finally! Two hours of pining - even if I had been watching a very interesting story - was finally over! Slowly, I let my lips lightly brush against his. His tongue zipped out, touching me for an instant. It brought a smile to us both, and I finally let us join properly, just as the credits started rolling up the screen. That electrifying feeling was back, just as strong as it had been the other day. The difference was, I now knew what that feeling really was: it wasn't excitement over doing something I wasn't supposed to like I had first thought. It was, quite plain and simply, love. At that point, I closed my eyes.

Jack, I love you. And I kissed him.

Jack, I LOVE you. And I kissed him again, a little longer this time.

Jack, I LOVE YOU. I kissed him for a third time, more tenderly and passionately than ever. I held his head with both hands, seeking to transfer as much of my feelings into him as I possibly could. Oh God how I loved him!

"Third time's the charm, right?", he asked me. I opened my eyes again and looked upon him in the darkness. First, I thought he meant the kisses I had planted upon him, but I had kissed him a total of four times now, so that didn't make any sense. He was smiling though and I could just barely see it. There was silent communication between us yet again, and I understood. "Yes, I know you love me", his smile said.

I had no idea I had been speaking out loud. I was once again surprised, which made his smile deepen. I did not have to ask for confirmation what he felt for me, it was all there, plain to see on his lovely face.

A storm swelled within me, a wind that threatened to bodily carry me away. Suddenly, the tank-top was gone - I don't know how, or where it went - and I once again touched his fantastic bare skin completely unhindered. He sat straddled on my lap, his legs folded on either side of me, his hard dick poking me in my stomach beneath that thin layer of Adidas synthetics as I pressed him as close to me as he'd possibly go.

Oh Jack. I won't ever stop loving you. I'm not certain I said the words aloud or not, but I think I did.

I felt him twitch. First I thought he was peaking again, but then when he twitched once more and when I heard him sniffle, I understood.

Jack was weeping. It all was very quiet, very dignified in a way. Much like himself. I loosened my arms around him a little, still holding his body securely, but pulled myself away from him just enough so I could take a look at him. His tear-filled eyes were downcast, while small sobs wracked him periodically. Traces of wet saltiness down his pretty, rounded cheeks were plainly visible in the dim light, now that my eyes had fully adjusted. The TV, while still on, was displaying nothing but blackness, the credits and music having ended since a while ago.

"Do you really mean that?", he asked so very quietly.

My love for him surged. I had gone completely flaccid, so I was dead sure I wasn't confusing anything with lust here. Jack still poked me in my belly, but I ignored it. I took his pointed chin in my hand and lifted his face up towards me.

Of course I mean it, I silently sent him. You are my one and everything... Then I started to lightly kiss all his tears away.

Getting confirmation of that which we most intensely desire, can often reduce us to our weakest. I should know. Yes, none of us are as strong as others believe, and that was perhaps especially true of Jack the Wonder Boy. However, I was not yet aware indeed HOW true that was.


I continued to hold him for what felt like a very long time after that. His body had become so calm and utterly relaxed as it rested against mine, his head on my left shoulder, he was almost just a bag of bones. (Even if it was a very nicely muscled bag at that...) His breathing was so amazingly deep and regular that I was almost certain he had fallen asleep on me. I held him steady so he wouldn't fall or slip away from me, feeling my love for him grow ever stronger, firmer. As I held Jack, it evolved from something wild and immature to something as immovable as an ancient oak tree, alive with a strength I cannot describe. The tree was full of green leaves as it stood there, basking in the sun, happy just at being alive.

I dared not move even a finger for fear of ending that one perfect moment.

In the end, it was Jack that moved.

"I have to pee", he told me quietly.

I loosened my grip on him just a little, again so I could see his face. He was still a bit red and puffy around the eyes, and he seemed very somber. I smiled just a little at him, to tell him all was just as it should, gently touching his forehead with my own. "If you gotta go, then you gotta go...", I said and patted him softly on the bum. Slowly, Jack slowly wriggled out of my grip, as if he was reluctant to leave my warm embrace, and trotted off to the bathroom, his naked feet making small sucking noises against the bare floor. He closed the door behind him, but did not lock it.

I didn't feel like sitting there doing nothing while he took care of his bodily needs, so I got up out of the couch and flicked on the ceiling lights, wincing at the sudden brightness. When I could see properly again, I started looking through his comic collection to try and see if there was anything I recognized. There was the usual DC and Marvel superhero stuff on one hand which almost all male kids loved, and then a more mature and, shall we say, darker selection too. Frank Miller's Sin City, Neil Gaiman's Sandman, Garth Ennis' Preacher and Katsuhiro Otomo's Akira, amongst others. Yeah, Jack's parents sure didn't seem to think much about enforcing age restrictions with their son... Then there was a whole section of Gary Larson's The Far Side Gallery as well, which put things in stark contrast.

As I stood there browsing, there was a faint knock on the door. I waited a moment to see if anyone would enter, but nobody did. Apparently, Jack had very considerate parents that did not want to simply barge in on him (unlike my own folks, who absolutely NEVER mistook a closed door for a stop-sign, sigh!).

When I opened, Jack's father was there on the other side.

"Ah, Monsieur Ross!", he said in a friendly manner. "Pleased to meet you. I am Guillaume" His accent was very thick, but melodious and pleasant somehow at the same time. He offered his hand, and I shook it. Guillaume Legrand was quite a bit taller than me, six feet five was probably not to exaggerate. He had a fairly normal build considering his height I would say, not too wide over the shoulders, and not thin and willowy either.

I blushed. "Yeah, pleased to meet you too, Sir", I said. "Please call me Alex, I'm not... Ah, very comfortable with..." I stopped, feeling a bit lost and overwhelmed.

"I understand", he said. "My name would in English be William, yes?" He pronounced it more like 'Ouijaam', I think. I still understood what he meant though. "Please, please. Come with me."

He beckoned, and I followed, a bit uncertain what he wanted. We went down the stairs to the ground floor again, and took a different route through the many rooms there. We ended up in the kitchen, another fairly large area. There was several work spaces around the walls, and a big gas stove with a copper funnel overhead in the middle of the room. Surfaces - those that weren't metal or ceramic - and cupboards were made of a fairly light-colored wood, teak, maybe? Copper and cast iron pans and pots hung on hooks coming down from the ceiling around the stove, everything was very clean, very shiny. I wondered if anyone had ever cooked a meal in that kitchen, or if it was only used as an exhibition center. It certainly didn't look used at all.

Guillaume sat down on a tall bar stool. "Please forgive my bad language", he started. "I will try to speak as best I can." I waved my hand, showing it was all right, but at times I had trouble struggling through his heavy accent. "I want to speak a few things to you alone, not where my wife or son hear it..."

I wasn't sure what he was getting at, so I started becoming nervous, my face blushing a faint red.

"Oh, please please. Sit down", the man continued and signed for me to hop up on another of the stools. I decided to agree. "Please, do not be offended by what I will say. I will not speak about you, in..." He seemed to be searching for the word, 'particular', but didn't manage to find it. "More about anyone in general", he rephrased himself. I nodded, still uncertain.

"As you know, my son Jaques is a special boy, yes? Very smart, knows a lot. I don't know... Maybe we did wrong, Michelle and I, teaching him so much so quick. He became like little grownup so fast, yes?" His questions seemed mostly rhetorical in nature, so I just nodded in response. Yeah, I think I understood. "It is hard to...love...a child that knows so much properly, like we should. And he has special needs, you know that. You called him that yourself, 'faggot'." It sounded strange to hear, coming from a Frenchman like that.

I blushed deeply. "Sir, I am very sorry about that, and-"

"It is all right. I was not accusing. My son has accepted you a friend. What I am saying, trying to, is that he needs more than friend. There is...vide...in his life? Vacuum you say?" Void, he meant. A void in Jack's life. "My son is flamboyant outside, but sensitive inside, and we...parents...cannot help him, he is almost not our son anymore. He has grown up to us. My wife, she has not quite accepted our son's needs, silently she hopes still for petits-enfants. Grand-children, yes? But, I know there will not be any." He seemed sad when he said that last thing. Sad, but pragmatic about it somehow.

I sat there listening, and it seemed more pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. Was he actually ASKING me what I thought he was asking? He said, he was speaking in general, like he was telling me not to hurt his kid by mistake. Or was he asking me to fill his son's void? I did not know what to believe, I was just sixteen years old after all.

Guillaume suddenly turned away from me, towards the doorway. I turned too, and saw Jack standing there. He seemed so small, and so pale.

"Ah, so there you are", Jack said quietly, without much emotion. Much as if he'd found a newspaper he'd been half-heartedly looking for or something. My heart ached for him.

"Just having a friendly talk", his father replied. "Sorry about stealing your friend." If Jack suspected what his father had actually been talking about, or even if he'd overheard us, at least he didn't show any signs of it. He did seem more normal now than he had a few minutes ago when I last had seen him though. He had the tank-top back on again so at least I knew it hadn't disappeared into thin air. "Would you like to stay for dinner?", Guillaume added.

"Goddammit!", I yelped. "What time is it?" My own watch was at home, lying on the desk in my room. I had been in such a hurry to leave earlier that I'd completely forgotten about it.

"It's four thirty-five P.M.", Jack's father said after a quick look at his wrist.

"Sorry, Mr. Legrand", I said and tried to pronounce the name as properly I could. "I have to wing it. If I'm not home in half an hour at the latest, I'm a dead man."

He nodded. "Some other time perhaps."

I got help finding my way to the back exit again, I would have managed on my own, but maybe Jack wanted to be there when I left, I'm not sure. He still seemed pale, and didn't talk. I strapped on my rollerblades again, going through the motions like I had done so many times before. I did not want to leave.

"Sorry about dashing off like this, but if I'm not home in time my folks really will have my head on a plate. See you 'round", I said to Jack. "Remember what I told you up there, eh?" I felt like patting him on his cheek just to accentuate I really had meant what I'd said, but couldn't. Not with his father standing there, even despite what he'd told me about Jack's 'needs'.

He smiled weakly, uncertainly, back at me.

As it was, I just barely made it in time. My dad looked at me funny when I came home, but I didn't think much of it, I was too relieved about not being late to give such things much thought. After dinner, he took me aside.

"Alex, do I need to worry?", he asked.

I had a feeling what he meant. He must have seen me touch Jack earlier in the day when we had skated off together. I was calm however, the thought did not upset me. "No, there's no problem", I said honestly. I felt I was telling the truth.

He nodded. "Fine. Now go finish your homework, I know you've been dragging your legs." I wasn't sure if he was entirely satisfied with my answer, but I didn't care.

Monday morning. Jack slowly skated across the almost completely empty school parking lot. He was watching the world through the blue filter of his Discman glasses, and it was such a cold, cloudy, dark world. 'Adagio for Strings' by Barber was playing through the headphones, and it set a perfect mood for him as cool, almost chilly erratic winds tossed and tugged at his hair and flimsy clothes. He speeded up at times, slowed down at others, but never went very fast in the first five minutes of the piece. He turned sharply or softly left or right, making invisible spirals across the hard ground. Jack transitioned expertly from forwards to backwards motion and back again, a small pirouette, or a precise hop or a jump here and there where it fit in with the slow, soulful, sad tones of the piece.

He was an ice figure skater following an unwritten routine that was flowing from his own body and the music. The wheels of his rollerblades scraped harshly across the asphalt even though his motions were smooth, unheard by his ears; music was all that filled them. His speed increased, his movements became more energetic, his breath came faster, as the music started building itself up for the intense, drawn-out crescendo that started its long peak at about the 5:32 mark. At 5:53, the hurting, frightfully beautiful strings abruptly fell silent, so he stopped dead in his tracks. Painfully holding a stiff unnatural pose, a hot, burning tear squeezed itself out of each of his eyes. It was so magnificent! He didn't twitch, he didn't flinch. He did not lose his balance even despite the wind. He was one with the moment as he held the pose. Again the strings started playing, very slowly, very softly. Equally slowly, softly, Jack moved forwards once more in a circling, wavy pattern, his arms co-ordinating perfectly with the rest of his body's motions.

Like a figure skater.

After 7:47 minutes, the music ended. It was over. Jack came to a halt, and took his bows. His long, flowing hair came down across his eyes, blinding him momentarily. He shook it out of his vision, and raised the glasses up on his smooth forehead to look around and gather himself again. He had never intended to lose himself in the music and the movement like that, but there had been so many things on his mind lately...

He hadn't noticed that a small crowd had gathered around the parking lot where he had been performing as it turned out. They looked around, at themselves and at him, surprised at finding themselves standing there, but pleased all the same. One guy slowly started clapping his hands, and soon they all joined in and were applauding him with enthusiasm. Jack felt more tears welling up again, and he tried to swallow down a large lump in his throat. He bowed once more, deeply, silently thanking them all before he began skating off, going faster and faster until he was like a streak of lightning disappearing behind the school.

I think he was frightened, scared by it all, but I did not try to stop him leaving. He had to come to terms with this himself, just like me. I was just glad I had been there that morning, early as I was, so I could share that moment with him even if he hadn't seen me. I felt a strange, throbbing warmness inside me, and knew it was my love for him reaching out, trying to comfort him even though he wasn't even near me.

I had no idea he could skate like that... Jesus, what a sight it had been!

I made the day pass as usual until lunch. I wasn't too distracted, except for worrying about Jack. Was he OK? He had seen so...emotional, that morning. Emotional, yet introspective at the same time. After having gulped down a quick bite to eat in the school restaurant (which actually was rather decent), I hurried off to the park where I hoped to find Jennifer. I did, she was already there like most times when we joined there.

"Let me get this straight... You watched a movie together, you jacked him off, kissed, told each other you loved the other, then cried a bit together, is that it?"

She made it sound so mechanical, so sterile. It bothered me. "Yeah, well. Basically yeah. Except that he was the one crying", I said tersely.


I didn't know how to interpret her silence. "Uh, so, does that constitute infidelity too?", I asked.

She frowned, not angrily or annoyed. It was an indecisive frown. "I was just thinking about that. ...But, no. No, I don't think so. Dunno why I'd even say such a thing, but there you have it. Happy now?"

I didn't know if I was or not. "He's so upset", I said instead. "So confused. And I thought I was the uncertain one of us two..."

"Why do you say that?", Jennifer asked, intrigued.

I had to cough a bit to clear my throat. It was still difficult to talk about this sort of thing, even with Jennifer, the one person in the world I could trust to understand what it all was about. "Well, everybody treats him like he's a grownup, you know, even his parents. But he's not. He's just a kid wise beyond his years, you understand what I'm saying?"

"You dummy! Of course he's just a kid! I could have told you had you but ASKED." She whacked me on the shoulder again like she usually did when she thought me a fool. "I actually expected you to be able to think for yourself!"

I usually tried to retort with some sort of more or less witty remark when she did that, but this time I couldn't. She was right, I hadn't seen Jack for what he really, truly was either at first. It's true he kind of swept me off my feet that Thursday last week, but shouldn't I have reacted to it then? Was that normal behavior of a person his age (if there is such a thing as 'normal behavior')?

"Well, I got around to it eventually at least, didn't I?", I mumbled, downcast. "I just wish he's all right, you know? Do you have any idea what it's like to love someone with all your heart, and see that person suffer?" I let more emotion show in my words than I intended. She knew I loved Jack, but I didn't want her to think I wanted him more than I did her! My worries were unnecessary however...

She relented. cracked apart almost even. "Oh God, Alex. I am such an idiot too at times... Go, Alex. Go find him. Now. Be with him, he needs you."

I was torn. I wanted to rush off right then and there, and I wanted to stay too! "But...! What about you then...?!"

She smiled a quick, sad smile at me. "I'll be all right meanwhile", she said weakly. "I'll just wait here until you come back. If not today, then tomorrow or the day after." She tried to give me a brave look, but she was so close so close to tears. As was I for that matter. "Jaques needs you more right now. Don't worry about me."

I left her. It pains me to say so, but I left her there. I looked back once, but she was sitting against that tree with her face hidden in her hands and I couldn't bear it watching her like that any longer. I simply hurried away.

I looked everywhere for him. All over. I ran through the corridors of the school like a fucking madman in the odd hope of catching a glimpse of him. I knew his schedule was loosely defined to say the least, he was more or less allowed to come and go as he pleased, so I really had no idea where to look for him.

Eventually, I had to stop my search. I was totally exhausted from all the running around and I was more than twenty minutes late for my next class. I must have gone through every hall and passageway at least twice. I had looked through every open door, hoping he'd be there. All I saw was empty rooms or the faces of strangers wondering who I was and what the heck I was doing looking into their classroom like that.

I was utterly distraught and found it impossible to listen to what my teachers were saying. I really couldn't afford to get any more negative feedback, but even that was beyond me now. ALL my thoughts were with Jack, and what he was doing, what he was thinking.

We had P.E. class at the end of the day. The weather was still chilly, the sky full of gray clouds that looked like they could start spraying the ground with rain at any moment, but nothing happened. The clouds merely glowered down at the Earth, ever threatening. We were to play baseball outdoors on the gravel field next to the school's gymnasium. The large outer doors to the huge hall were open wide for whatever reason. I think they had run the floor over with a polishing machine earlier, but wasn't certain. I saw him in there, standing on his toes on a balance beam, arms reaching straight out at his sides. Yes, it HAD to be him, my Jack.

I broke off from the group. I heard Teach calling out for me. "Ross! Hey, ROSS! Where the hell do you think YOU'RE going?!", he shouted with that powerful, commanding voice of his. "Come back here NOW!" Thompson really isn't the kind of guy you'd ordinarily want to turn your back on. Ex-football player, he had the chest of a barrel, arms like tree-trunks and a real short temper.

I ignored him. For a second I thought he was going to chase after me, but with an angry look he simply decided not to give a damn. He turned back to the rest of the guys standing there around him and started explaining and pointing how he wanted things done that day.


He was so beautiful up on that beam, so graceful. I had seen gymnasts performing before of course, the school even had a team of itself, and they were certainly better at it than Jack. But their grace came from the careful repetition of a move over and over under the watchful gaze of a hawkeyed trainer. Jack was different, he was a natural it seemed to me. He did each move like he'd thought it out himself how best to do it, not from how everybody else wanted it done from decades - maybe centuries - of dusty, rigid tradition.

Jack was unaware I was there. I kept well away so I wouldn't interrupt or distract his exercises. He wore a black leotard sort of thing that covered just about his entire body, even the neck. It was very tight, making each muscle and sinew stand out in stark contrast while the sweat off his body dulled down it's inherent shininess.

All I could hear was the faint sounds of Jack's naked feet hitting the thick, lacquered wooden beam, and his labored breathing. The noise from the kids outdoors playing baseball had all faded away somehow. I saw him raise himself up in a handstand, then smoothly roll down on his back and rise back up on his feet, only to turn around, run two quick steps and flip through the air in a high forwards somersault, landing heavily back on the beam again.

He must have been going at it for a very long time, because Jack was almost on the brink of collapse. Not only was he soaked in sweat; his usually well-ordered hair was matted and stringy now. That grace he had, it was also slipping away fast, that I could see with my very eyes. Yet, he continued anyway, pushing himself further and further, and I felt I understood why. It took his mind off other things. Things he did not want to think about.

Of course, it was bound to happen sooner or later, him going at it like that in the condition he was. As his right foot landed back on the beam after a flip, the heel slipped off the beam. It could have been my imagination, but I thought I could hear an awful crunching, snapping sound as his entire bodyweight and more came down on the front portion of the foot. With a pained, frightened yell he crashed to the floor some four feet below.

I ran up to his side, all he could do was lie straight on his back with his left leg pulled up, right leg sticking out at an angle, and moan in pain with his eyes squeezed shut real tight. I took his injured leg in my hands and looked at the joint. It was already starting to puff up, I knew I had to cool it down right away.

"Don't touch it! Aaah!", Jack groaned.

"Shut up!", I snarled. "You've broken your fucking ankle, you need treatment."

He opened his eyes and saw me. "Alex? What-" The rest of whatever he was going to say was lost in another gasp of pain as I dropped his leg down again a little less carefully than I perhaps could have managed.

"Get up! Get up!", I urged him as I grabbed him under his left arm and heaved, supporting his right side like a human crutch. "Christ, what the hell were you trying to do up there? Don't you understand you could have hurt yourself a lot worse?!"

Jack bit his lower lip to keep himself from calling out in pain again, but I could see on his grimacing face it hurt one hell of a lot. He hobbled and I dragged him over to where I knew there was a medicine cabinet with some chemical cold-packs in it. Slowly lowering Jack down on a bench, I then opened up the cabinet and got out what I needed; several packs, gauze, tape. I'd done this sort of thing a couple of times before when someone had sprained something during hockey, in training or a match. I wasn't no nurse by any means, but I could manage. I squeezed the packs to break the inner seals and let the chemicals mix, shaking them vigorously to ensure it was done properly. Then I carefully applied them around the ankle joint in turn and fixed them in place with the tape, then wrapped it all up tightly with the gauze. I think I managed to do an OK job.

"We gotta get you to a hospital, man, get you X-rayed", I said, thinking about where the nearest accessible phone was. I'd probably have to run out to get P.E. teacher Thompson and have him call on his cellular, but I didn't care. I took a look down at Jack and saw he was all pale and clammy, his chest heaving. I felt his pulse, it was thin and rapid. "Shit! You're like totally dehydrated! How long were you going at it up there?!"

I was literally feeling anger at him. He was making me worry myself senseless here, dammit! I checked the medicine cabinet again, there was an empty water bottle with a salt/sugar mixture bag in there, just my luck.

"Stay right there!", I ordered him. I don't think he would have managed to leave even if his foot had been undamaged, but I wanted to make certain. I rushed off to fill the bottle, and when I came back, I picked him up - so light! He was so light... - and slowly administered it to him, making sure he drank enough of the lukewarm fluid as he sat there on my lap. It wasn't necessary to keep him there of course, but I just wanted to feel him close to me after spending so much time that day looking for him.

Jack seemed to start getting a little better. At least, some color returned beneath his tanned skin.

"Thanks...", he managed. "You didn't have to do all that, you know."

"Sure I did", I said, surprised at the amount of affection I managed to put into that simple statement. Jack squirmed uncomfortably. "Hey, what's wrong?", I asked, putting a hand on his cheek to make him face me.

"Please don't touch me", he told me with such pain in his voice. "I... I can't stand you touching me." It wasn't words of revulsion, I could hear that. He was punishing himself, denying himself that which he most wanted.

I was so very surprised. "But... Why?"

His reaction was immediate, violent, and shocking. "Because I don't deserve it!", he shouted with pain-filled anger, his young voice shrill in my ears. "Any of it! Please, just go! Leave me alone!" Tears came pouring forth again, his pretty face contorting from self-contempt. He cried angry, fierce tears this time, not those he had cried yesterday.

"Shush, shush...", I told him and put my hands around him. It felt stupid, but I could not think of anything else to say. I began to rock Jack gently while he spent his last energy pouring out all those bitter tears. Was this the same kid that had shouted, 'bite me, white-boy', less than a week before? Were both those persons living inside this beautiful shell of a boy, the outgoing, open Jack, and the insecure, frightened Jack?

Eventually, he quieted down, only giving a sniffle every now and then. Tears, snot and saliva had dripped down on his leotard-covered legs during the outburst, but none of us cared about such things right then.

"When I said I would never stop loving you, I meant it. I am a part of you forever I think, and I could not live without you. Why do you want me to leave?" I was feeling the same pain, pain for him, and for myself at the thought of losing him.

He sniffled a bit more. "You have no idea what it's like to be me", he replied faintly, his voice very much quivering from all his crying.

I smiled. He couldn't see it because I was holding him so close. "Yes, you are right, Jack. I have no idea, how could I? All I know is, you are smart, beautiful, intelligent... And that I love you."

"All about me is WRONG!", he blurted, but doing it quietly. The self-contempt was still there too.

"What do you mean, wrong? You can do almost whatever you want, you-"

He shook his head forcefully. "No, no no! I cannot do whatever I want! I can hardly do anything I want! I have to do what others expect of me!" I began to realize what he meant as he explained. "So what if I'm smart and intelligent" - he said it in a very much cynical voice - "Did anyone ask me if I WANTED to become a physics graduate at age twelve? No, they did not. I did it because I learn and understand things just by reading it once or having it shown to me, and because everybody expected it of me! I'm smart, so I must be a great student and learn everything."

"So, you don't like physics, then?" I wasn't sure if that was such a smart thing to say right then, but I figured, if he wanted to talk, he would talk. I squeezed him closer to reassure him.

"Physic's OK I guess... It's just that I never had a choice! I'm forced to live this... This LIE, act according to the mould I've been shaped after and I can't handle it anymore! I was OK with it until... Until-" He hiccuped, sniffled again, then continued really quiet. "Until I met you."

I grinned, again without him seeing it. Yeah, my mere presence seemed to make the very heavens come tumbling down at times. "It can't be THAT bad", I tried. That was the parent-like way of comforting. Smoothing over, covering up instead of gouging it out and then be done with it. The second method was more painful initially but better in the long run. A bit like pulling out an infected tooth, you don't want to walk around with it in your mouth forever but actually doing it takes courage because it hurts. "I don't care about how people think of me, and I don't live in no mould!", I continued unsuccessfully.

"Yes! Yes, you DO TOO!", Jack said angrily. "The difference is, you don't mind it! You play hockey and get off of being thought of as a bit of a dangerous guy. It's the same thing as for me!"

Damn, the kid was too fucking sharp for his own good... Yeah, Jack was probably spot-on there. I could see how my behavior could be interpreted that way. I did what people expected. I bossed my peers around, had girlfriends, got myself into trouble on a regular basis. How was I any different than him? Of course, if you don't enjoy your mould, if it pinches and chafes, forces you to go in a direction you don't want, and is too small for you to grow in, then you will begin to resent yourself. It isn't anymore complicated than that. My mould had always fit me perfectly up until then (not counting the odd pang of regret after doing something really stupid), but to be sure, after Jack came into my life hadn't I too felt it starting to restrict me?

Sure I had.

It was time to break free. For both of us.

I picked up Jack in my arms and carried him out of the gymnasium. He was so light, and so sweet to the touch. Locating Tompson, I walked up to him and explained what had happened in there, with Jack falling and hurting his foot. I did not mention our long conversation of course, that was private.

Tompson still seemed pissed I had wandered off, but he did congratulate me on the first-aid I had applied, I'd done that mostly right at least. Some guys looked at me strangely, I defiantly glared back. Nobody decided to challenge me outright then and there.

I held Jack in my arms the entire time until one of the school's groundskeepers came with a car to pick him up. I refused to put him down, I felt as strong as one of the Titans of ancient Greece, my arms like bars of steel. When he was about to go, I again refused to leave his side, and was finally allowed to follow him to the hospital.

Explaining a diagnose is wasted on me. A broken ankle is a broken ankle in my book, no matter which of the little pieces inside there had been torn or broken. Anyway, it wasn't as bad as it could have been, but neither was it minor either. Jack got a cast put on so it could heal up; it would take a bunch of weeks, but there shouldn't be any permanent damage according to the female doctor treating him. I wrote my name on it as soon as the plaster had set.

I stayed with Jack there at the hospital until his parents came to take him home. He was still quiet, didn't say much of anything, and nothing about what we'd discussed in the hall earlier. I said goodbye to him as he left in a taxi, he seemed so tired, ready to fall asleep right then and there. Not tired just physically from straining so hard that day up on that balance beam, but also mentally. Coming to grips with oneself like he had done, it could be just as exhausting, if not more so.

Jack's parents offered me a seat in the taxi, but I didn't want to push myself on them like that right then and there. I would have had to take the bus home, because it was altogether too far to walk, but I didn't have any money on me, still dressed in my training clothes as I was. I had to borrow a phone at the hospital so I could call my folks and have them come pick me up. After about half an hour of waiting outside, I saw my mom come driving in her red Volkswagen. I waved at her, and she stopped nearby to let me in. We started the trip home (first back to the school so I could pick up my stuff though) in relative silence, I explained to her why I was at the hospital, but not much more than that.

"Your father tells me you and Jack seems to come along well together now", she said after a while. "Are you just good friends, or..." She coughed, uncertain. "GOOD friends?"

I sat there for a while. What should I say to her? The longer I waited though, the clearer my answer became in my mind. Besides, moms often have good intuition as well, she knew how to interpret my silence I think.

"We're GOOD friends", I simply said.

"And Jennifer?"

I wasn't surprised she'd ask that. "She's OK with it too, I think."

"Aha." That's all she said about that.

The next couple of days were difficult for me, Jack stayed at home (nursing his ankle, I would think), and my parents were, shall I say, edgy. They didn't quite know how to treat me anymore. In a way, I wanted to say they shouldn't treat me any different than they had before, that all was the same. But it wasn't. At school, people were also aware things had changed with me, nobody actually said or implied anything straight to me, but I could still sense it. The guys in my old gang were also distant and wary of how to behave, I didn't see much of them. The only firm thing I had right then in my life was Jennifer, and she still accepted me. I guess I would have pulled through anyway, but with her at my side it wasn't such a monumental struggle. And, since Jack wasn't in school, nobody cared about enforcing my detention either. I was beginning to wonder if they'd bother with it at all, in fact.


I didn't have no big "coming-out" ceremony or anything. I just refused to either confirm or deny what was said about me behind my back. And people did talk, I know they did. Everybody enjoys good gossip whenever they cross its path, and if they say otherwise they're lying through their teeth. However, being seen with Jennifer, even if it was only for short moments confused many I think, which was good. I did not want to clear things up for them, it was muddled-up enough for me.

I had come full circle. It was Thursday again, and I was once more sitting in Principal Montoya's office. We weren't discussing me for once, we were talking about Jack.

"I'm not sure if the school has properly thanked you or not", she started. "So I guess I'll have to do that now instead." She didn't actually SAY thanks, though. I guess she still didn't like me very much.

"Yeah, well, it was nothing."

"Mm-hm", she said curtly, almost as if I was the one who was to thank her somehow. "The Legrands have considered pulling Jaques from the school and give him a private tutor instead", she said. "They haven't decided yet. It would be unfortunate for JHH if that was to happen. I cannot ask of you outright to try and persuade them not to, but if you have any influence with them..."

She wasn't thinking of what was best for Jack, she was only caring about the school and its reputation! I felt sad, and cheap for being used in such a manner. I decided I would not help her at all, Jack had to make up his own mind what he wanted to do.

"I'll see what I can do, Ma'am", I lied.

The Principal gave me a dutiful smile that came nowhere near her eyes. "Thank you, Alex", she said, trying to sound friendly but only managed to barely get past the 'patronize' setting on the dial, and then moved on to other topics. She covered my mental absentness in class lately, but told me that in light of recent events they were going to ignore that for now, at least as long as I behaved otherwise. And I was to sharpen up my act too, of course. Getting to leave her office was a vast relief, it felt as if I could breathe again once more.

In the afternoon after I've come home (having skipped hockey and workout because I quite frankly didn't feel up to it), Jack called me. I tried to restrain my happiness over hearing his voice again, as I wasn't sure if he had recovered sufficiently in his mind yet to be able to handle my affection for him. He sounded very business-like to me, wondering if I would mind very much if he asked me to come over. Apparently, his mother's sick older sister had taken a turn for the worse back in France, and she had to return back there in a couple days. As it was expected for her to die soon anyway, Jack's father was to follow to help with funeral matters and such, should that be necessary. Jack had explained to them he'd rather stay in the U.S. though, but his parents were understandably apprehensive about leaving him alone in that big house, especially with the condition his foot was in.

That's where I came into the picture apparently. If I was to help him get around in school, maybe come by whenever I could to check on him, they'd might let him stay. The house's owner ordinarily employed a cook (but the Legrands didn't seem to eat much "at home"), that could fix meals for him, and there was a housekeeper too that came by twice a week.

I was like, "Yeah!", of course. After having said goodbye, I immediately left the house, only taking time enough to write a note to my parents explaining where I was. I rollerbladed back to Jack's place in record time I think, and I didn't even feel very tired as I got there. I guess love can do that to a guy, I truly ached for him, now more than ever.

I ran up the wide steps and rang the front doorbell, waiting patiently as I unstrapped my 'blades. I expected one of Jack's parents to open the door, but it was he himself that stood there wearing a long, heavy bathrobe, leaning against a crutch. I heard faint tones of Schubert's 'Ave Maria' drifting out from somewhere inside the house, even though I didn't know the name of the piece.

I stood there, unsure what to think. He had been so distant on the phone, I feared he was going to be like that now too, and the thought blanketed my mind with sorrow. I didn't need to worry about that though, almost as soon as he saw me, his face changed from a blank expression to a sea of emotion. There was happiness there, and sadness and guilt, and more which I hardly can describe. I stretched out a hand, and he took it, pulling me inside. I kicked the door closed with my heel, then took him in my arms and lifted him up so I could kiss him. His crutch fell forgotten from his grasp and clattered to the floor, my skates were still sitting there on the steps outside the door.

Oh, such bitter-sweetness! Tears came again in both our eyes, even as I wanted to laugh out of sheer happiness! We could not get enough of each other, it was if we had been separated for agonizing months instead of mere days! So what if his parents walked in on us any second now and discovered what we were doing? I didn't care the slightest! I buried my face in his long hair, drawing in a deep breath of his scent, that which was him.

Jack's bathrobe was soft, but Jack himself was so much softer still, and I wanted to feel him. I desperately wanted to. I tried to wriggle him out of it right then and there, but he stopped me.

"Pick me up!", he instructed instead, breathing heavily, his brown eyes shiny, as excited as I was. I immediately obeyed and put one hand under his lovely butt, the other on his back and lifted. He placed his legs so his knees stuck out on either side of my waist, feet folded backwards. I carried him according to his instructions, ending up at the main bathroom. It was an orgy in gilded metal, glass, white and pink tile and marble. There was a door to a separate room inside where I guessed the toilet was located, because I could not see it in there. I did see however a large shower with rough-surfaced glass doors on it, and a big jacuzzi tub. Twin washbasins were cut out of a solid marble bench beneath a huge golden-framed mirror that stretched for at least seven feet or so along the wall, maybe more. Soft classical music played here as well through hidden speakers.

Carefully, Jack lowered himself to the floor and balancing on one foot, he casually let the robe drop to his feet. I was again struck forcefully by the sheer beauty of his young body, the inner perfection of his thinly boned yet well-muscled limbs, all covered by that velvety soft skin that could drive me crazy just by thinking about it. A tightly wrapped plastic bag covered the cast on his right foot, something I hadn't noticed before.

"They're not home", he whispered, grasping my hands in his. "They won't be back until late tonight..."

Yes, we had indeed both come full circle. We were again naked together in a shower, warm water squalling down around us, not nearly matching the unsurpassed heat shining from our bodies. We were like a pair of stars circling each other in the heavens, exchanging hot, gaseous matter between us in our radiance. It was not just sex we shared at that moment; it was so much more than that.

I let my hands do whatever they wished. I explored him once more like it was the first time, starting with his head, tracing the ridges in the delicate bone structure of his face, the face which I loved so deeply. I felt his neck and chest, lightly caressing the pectorals, my fingers exploring the sensitive area around his stiffened nipples. I slowly progressed down his back, caressing the knobs of his spine and the sinewy muscles covering his ribs. Then I reached the twin mounds of his buttocks. I felt them, gripped them with my hands, gently squeezing, letting my hands wander inside the cleft between them. As a finger brushed across his anus, I heard a sharp intake of breath, then a shuddering sigh. I did not try to penetrate him however, I felt too much love and respect for him for trying anything like that without his express permission.

My hands would not reach any further with me standing up, so I kneeled. Jack's erect penis was literally right in my face, sticking out almost straight from his body. It again pulsed like it had before I could tell, rising and falling just a tiny amount in time with his rapid heartbeats, bobbing whenever his stomach tensed as I continued my exploration of his body. I did not touch it right then however. Instead, I ran my hands down his flat tummy, caressing it as I had done with the rest of his body, circling his belly-button slowly and carefully.

I was almost overcome with emotion as I encircled his hardened member with my hand. Jack's back arced backwards, and a slow moan slipped past his lips as I began masturbating him. He thrust his hips forwards forcefully, silently wanting more than I could give with just my hands. Pulling back his foreskin as far as it would go without hurting, I gently put my lips to the crimson tip... Feeling the glans slip inside of me, I marveled at its smoothness as I touched it with my tongue. Again I heard that hissing intake of breath...

I have no idea if I did things properly or not, being a total newbie at the task as I was, but judging from Jack's behavior, at least nothing was wrong. He moaned more loudly than I've ever heard before as I massaged his member with my mouth, gently playing with his smallish balls and scrotum with one hand, supporting his body with my other so he would not lose balance. His hands rested on my head, sometimes pulling my hair, urging me closer as if he wanted me to swallow all of him at once. Seeing ecstasy envelop him deeper and deeper, I tightened my grip on him, using both hands now. I did not want him to slip.

Jack's orgasm was much more violent than the first he experienced together with me, it took me quite by surprise actually, I did not expect it of him as he came again and again, completely lost in rapture. After the magnificent experience had passed, his body suddenly seemed to lose all rigidity and I had to quickly grab hold of him so he wouldn't fall. Supporting him with one hand under his rump and the other on the small of his back, he looked up at me. He was happy again now, and that made me happy. We kissed once more, slowly and intimately. Perhaps it had taken him this long for him to realize I really did care for him as deeply as I had said I did, I'm not sure.

We stood there, sharing love and affection, holding on to each other as the smotheringly sweet tones of Pachabel's 'Canon' played around us. It was simply too good to be true to be alive right then. If I could have, I would have remained there with him forever and ever.

Reaching for that same orange-yellow bottle I had seen him use a week ago, he asked me, "Are you ready?"

Yeah, I was ready. "Lavender, here I come", I guffawed. Oh, the sensations he brought to me with his small, skilled hands, I cannot even express it properly, it almost overcame me completely. We were both covered in thick, creamy lather, making our bodies even slicker as they touched. I was totally, completely hard, more so than I'd thought possible. Rubbing my dick between his legs, I felt myself sink down into a deep sea of fiery molten lava. Oh, the pleasure of it all! I came explosively with a strangled howl, spraying my semen on, and up between Jack's buttocks.

"That tickled!", the little rascal told me, eyes wide. Feeling physically weakened, my tunnel-vision slowly fading, I could do nothing but grin and wrap my arms around his chest again, letting one of my hands sneak up and hold the back of his head. He put his soft cheek against mine, arms encircling me as well. Standing together like that, we rinsed off under a cold stream of water where the warmth of our bodies was more than a match for the chill of the shower's water, then stepped out together.

We dried each other off with a big towel, touching and caressing, I stopped to put on my boxer shorts and T-shirt, Jack didn't even bother with the bathrobe, he just tore off the plastic bag around the cast and then stood there even more naked than before. I tossed the robe over my shoulder, then lifted him up once more in my arms just like he was, and carried him to 'his rooms'. He was not heavy at all, and I did not get tired as I climbed the stairs.

I carefully put Jack down on the black leather couch so his head was supported on one of the low armrests and tucked up the bathrobe around him so he would not start freezing. Seeing him like that, curled up, relaxed, his eyes closed and a faint smile on his lips made me feel that strange ache for him again. Not in a sexual way this time, I was thinking what would happen to me if I ever was to lose him. I sat beside him and smoothed away damp hairs from that perfect forehead of his, deeply enjoying simply being in his presence...

I must have started to get tired, because I found myself lying down beside him after a while. I hardly noticed when he snuck out of the sofa and returned with his bedspread. I mumbled something unintelligible - half-asleep as I was - as he prodded me to move in order to make room. I had my back against the couch's back, then Jack laid down in front of me, pressing himself close, his butt coming up tight against my groin.

"Mmbbffll...", I mumbled as he covered us both up. My arm went on its accord to wrap itself around him.

We must have slept together like that for at least two hours, because when I woke up, it was getting dark outside. I patted him very softly on the cheek, and he stirred slightly, still asleep. I smiled, it felt so good being there, beside that beautiful boy of mine, knowing he was safe, relaxed and comfortable. I slowly and carefully extracted myself and reached for the magic wand on the table before returning to the warmness next to Jack. Turning on the TV really low, I flipped through channel after channel in search of something worth watching. I didn't find anything that compared to the sight sleeping right beside me though and soon I left it on, just looking without trying to interpret what I was seeing. The tube's bluish glow made the finely chiseled features of Jack's face stand out, giving it an alien beauty of sorts in the flickering light.

Jack stretched luxuriously, nearly pushing himself out of the couch in the process. "What time is it?", he asked me.

"Just past nine thirty, sleepyhead!", I said and playfully ruffled his hair (it was still slightly moist in places).

"I don't wanna get up...", he complained. "Do you?"

"Are you kidding?" No way I would leave that couch as long as he was in it!

He turned his head to look at me. "Kiss me please", he asked all of a sudden. I obeyed, enslaved as I was by the feelings I had for him. I felt my desires building again, and I quickly took the opportunity to extract my stiffening wang from my shorts.

"Mmmmnnnh!", Jack exclaimed through his nose as my organ brushed against his naked nether regions while our lips were still joined. I was growing rapidly and Jack responded, squirming and pressing himself against my erection. I let a hand seek out his member and found it hardening as well, then we both paused. It was not necessary for us to go any further than that, we were both happy and content. I held him as he touched me, we did not need more.

Eventually, the heat of the moment leaked out of us both, but we still stuck close together.


"How about some food? I'm starving!", Jack commented. Yeah, that did sound swell, and I told him that. The kid scuttled out of my grasp and began jumping towards the door on one leg dressed in nothing but his own skin and that annoying cast which had chafed my feet as we had been lying down together.

"Hey, is that such a great idea?" I was thinking he might fall down, but his parents would probably be on their way back now too, and I wasn't sure if they'd like to walk in and see their son buck naked and me in nothing but underwear. Things like that tend to upset people, if y'all know what I mean.

"Well, if you want to do anything about it, you'd better catch me then don'cha, white-boy!" He began hopping faster and was already through the door and into the hallway outside before I had managed to kick off the bedspread and get out of the couch. I ran after him as he giggled madly, somehow managing to reach the stairs before me. It was an utterly ridiculous sight. Anyway, two legs beat one leg any day of the week and I grabbed him and hoisted him into the air just as he was about to land on the third step down. "Nnnnooooo! Nononononono!", he yelled and wiggled around to get out of my grip, still unable to stop laughing. Dammit! It was so fucking sexy, feeling him fight against me like that I almost got horny all over again! I quenched the flames real quick however, about the last thing I would need was Jack's parents seeing me wrestle their naked son with a hard-on poking through my underpants.

"Okay, okay", I said in a stern voice. "You've had your fun now, please calm down before you make me have an accident!"

He knew exactly what I was talking about and grinned. "You're scared anybody's going to see me are you?" I shook my head firmly. "Yes you are!", he teased. "Well, you'll just have to risk it. Now get me downstairs." I would have walked through fire and ice for that kid, carrying him downstairs was a picnic in comparison. He instructed me to make a turn into the library, where he then directed me to a fancy rococo reading divan covered in equally fancy striped silk fabric. Next to it was a just as fancy rococo table with an elaborate speakerphone placed upon it.

"Mm, I sure am hungry!", I said and eyed the shelves. "Which of these old dusty books would you think tastes best?"

"Behold this marvel of an invention you village idiot", Jack said with a grin, pointing at the phone. "It will fix us dinner inside of half an hour!" He simply laid down on his belly on the divan and reached out with an arm and pressed one of the speed-dial buttons.

A couple beeps went through, then there was a click from the speaker and a voice came forth. "Chao Fah Thai Restaulant, how can I help you?", it said.

"Behold this other marvel of an invention too", Jack whispered. "It's called take-away!" I grinned. Jack turned his attention to the phone. "Yes, I'd like a number twenty-three extra spicy, and a... Hold on a second please." He reached out again and pressed the mute button. "Are you a chicken person or a beef person?"

"Well, ordinarily I'm a beef person, but what's number 23? I can eat whatever you're having."

"It's fried noodles, white cabbage, yellow and red onion, carrot, water chestnut, mushrooms and peas, and chili. Hot!"

I was intrigued. "What, no meat?!"

"Nope. I'm a vegan."

"Get outta here!", I guffawed. "You're kidding, right?"

He shook his head. "Uh-huh. I don't eat anything that breathes in one way or another. But what shall it be? The guy's waiting, you know."

"Okay, okay. I can eat cabbage and noodles and stuff, but I want some meat alright? Get me something with chicken in it then, it looks more like veggies or something. Not too damn spicy either ok?"

Jack grinned and pressed the mute switch again. "Yes, sorry for the delay. I want that 23 I just mentioned, and a number - aaAH!" Jack jerked as I could not resist letting my fingers play with his cute butt as he laid down there on the divan, it simply was too tempting. "Sorry again, just an idiot friend fooling around", Jack growled and swatted at my hand. "One number thirteen as well."

"Yes. One twenty-thlee extla hot and one thilteen", the bemused voice on the other side confirmed.

"Could you please deliver to 1442 Moon Crescent Street please?"

"Yes, will be about twenty minutes half hour. Finish oldeling?"

Jack said that he had, and then hung up.

"Dammit, kid. You keep the entire menu in that pretty skull of yours?"

"Photographic memory you know, you horny bugger." He tapped his finger at a temple to re-inforce the message.

I was kind of impressed, you might say. Of course, I should have understood as much from what I knew from before but it was still strange to have it confirmed to me.

I had barely managed to get my jeans on and Jack into his bathrobe once more before the food arrived. I again carried him, to the front door this time (and as he seemed to take great pleasure from it, I had no mind doing so of course), and on the other side was an Asian guy holding a bag with cartons in it. His shirt proclaimed, "Chao Fah Thai" underneath a big swirling Chinese-style dragon. The guy was maybe a year or two older than me, about my height or a little taller perhaps, at least with shoes on, and quite good-looking if I may say so.

"That'll be twelve bucks even", the guy said in a smooth voice.

Jack extracted his wallet from a deep pocket in the bathrobe and paid him, tipping him an extra five, which made the guy smile brightly.

"Thanks!", the guy said, then looked us both up and down quite a bit closer than one usually expects of a stranger. "Oh man", he told me. "You don't know how lucky you are!" He was still smiling as he turned and started walking back to his little car. I then realized of course why he'd said that. I was holding one protective hand on Jack's exposed neck, the other buried deep in his rich hair... Jack started laughing the second the door closed. I felt silly and utterly embarrassed for a few seconds, my face blushing as red as a tomato.

"Why didn't you stop me?", I complained.

Jack could not stop laughing. "Why? I liked it!", the little devil managed. "He didn't mind either!"

"Dammit, you... You...!", I tried, then joined in his mirth. "Okay, let's eat before this grows cold, okay?"

We gulped down the meal straight out of the cartons, sitting in the dining room of the house. It was made out in a southern colonial style and seemed altogether too elegant to eat takeaway in, but nobody was there to stop us from doing so anyway. I must say it tasted fantastic together with Coke out of the fridge in the kitchen (Jack had a tall glass of OJ, which kind of made me shiver; I thought it a strange combination), I'd never tasted anything like it before. I tried some of Jack's stuff, and it wasn't bad either. It left my mouth on fire though, but nowhere near as bad as what I felt every time I simply looked at him...

Jack's bathrobe was slipping off him, exposing one exquisitely sculptured shoulder and side of his chest. "You're kinda buffed for a child prodigy, you know that?", I told him.

He looked at me for a second like he had no idea where that had come from. Neither had I. "Well, you know how much time I spend studying each day?" I shook my head. "Two hours. Maybe three."

"Get the fuck outta here."

"It's true. What else can I do to fill up a day? I skate around, I ride my bike, I do other stuff... You like the result?" The little imp let the bathrobe drop down to his waist.

I grinned. "Yeah! So, for how long have you played hockey then?", I asked.

He grinned. "You won't believe this I'm sure, but all of five weeks or so."

He was right, I could not believe it. "Five weeks?! That's impossible, you were WAY too good for that."

Jack shrugged absently. "I do fairly well at almost anything I try, I just came to training that day because I wanted to see you again. And you know I skate a lot so that helps too. The rules and play isn't that difficult, really." Yeah right. Not that difficult. "...But it was almost a year and a half or so since I last played any. I kind of get an idea I want to try something, but I never keep at it for very long."

I think I knew why. I was impressed all the same mind you, but I was sure I knew why Jack tried much but did little. His parents, it had to be them. It probably wasn't that they consciously kept him from exploring his own interests, maybe it was more like not actually encouraging him. That could be just as bad.

"And the gymnastics?"

Jack smiled a sad smile. "Yes, that... It's a way for me to deal with... Myself."

Fuck. I love the guy, and I end up hurting him. Goddammit. I just kept my big, stupid mouth shut after that and concentrated on finishing my glass of Coke.

Jack's parents came home just after we'd finished our meal and cleared away the remains. They wished to know if we'd eaten anything, and after hearing that we had, admonished him he should not order Thai takeaway EVERY time they were out late.

"There are lots of alternatives, my son", his mother said. "You'll grow tired of the taste."

Jack seemed amused, sitting a few steps up in the front stairs as he was. "Mom, they eat Thai food every day in Thailand. Do you think they grow tired of it?"

She was kind of stumped by his reply, then smiled that "Mother still knows best, child" smile that moms saved for whenever they knew they had been bested but didn't want to admit defeat. However, she could not keep the act together when Jack continued to look her in the eyes in a challenging manner, and her smile turned into one of affection instead. She patted his head in a friendly manner, then turned to me. "Has he been a good boy while we were gone?" Jack pulled up his left leg, which made the voluminous bathrobe separate at the fold. I desperately hoped his parents wouldn't notice he was naked underneath and kept my eyes well away from him in order to not draw their attention to the fact.

I felt my face redden, knowing what we'd been doing together. "Uh... Yeah." I didn't know what the hell to say. His mom nodded, seemingly unaware of my embarrassment.

"Are you staying for the night?", Jack's father wanted to know. He had taken off his shoes and carefully placed them on a small mat next to the door. "It is getting very dark out, going home could be dangerous on those things, yes?" He pointed at my rollerblades. They had moved them inside when they came home after having discovered them abandoned on the front porch.

I was torn. I had not considered the possibility of sleeping over and was understandably enthusiastic at the possibility. On the other hand, I wasn't sure if I was ready for it mentally either. Jack looked at me with pleading eyes, and I did not want to disappoint him. In the end though, I chickened out.

"Uh... I haven't asked my parents", I started. Jack tugged at me, mouthing 'please stay!', and my emotions were suddenly in uproar. "I think I'd better be going", I added lamely.

Jack's father nodded, then took up a pipe from a pocket and stuck it in his mouth. His wife's hand whipped out and snatched it away. She said something quietly to him in French, which I think meant, 'not indoors!', or some such. He retrieved it again, after apparently promising to go outside to smoke. "If you like, you are welcome some other day. We will be leaving soon as you know", he spoke to me, then left together with his wife. She said they'd be out on the verandah on the back side of the house. I meanwhile was feeling hot and giddy, intoxicated almost. He had basically invited me to move in with Jack, hadn't he?

"So you're going home now?"

I blushed a little. It sounded a little as if he thought I was abandoning him! "Sorry. I just didn't think I'd be here so long... My parents, they kinda like to keep track of me you know."

He nodded, downstruck. "I just wish you'd stay anyway."

Now it was my turn to pat him on the head, more lovingly than his mom even. "Hey... I'll see you again dude. Don't worry, I won't be going anywhere anytime soon." Jack smiled weakly. This really was tearing him up for some reason, I was feeling awful all of a sudden. It shamed me, but I had to make it worse by asking something difficult of him. "Uh, I was wondering if you'd mind a whole lot if I was to see Jennifer tomorrow..." I had been neglecting her really bad. Since Monday we had only exchanged quick glances in school, she happy to see me, but with that sadness on her face at the same time as if I was standing on a ship leaving the docks, bound for the other side of the world, leaving her there.

"It's okay by me", he said plainly. It was difficult to know what he really was thinking, it was if he was withdrawing inside his shell once more and I felt horribly guilty again because of it, just as bad as over Jennifer. Suddenly Jack's face softened. "No, really! It is okay. You can see her."

"Are you sure?" I was almost on the verge of tears.

Jack's face showed me everything. "Yes, Alex. I'll be fine. She was yours before you met me after all... If it makes you happy, it will make me happy."

I forced myself to calm down as I slowly smoothed away the hair from his forehead, loving how his pure, tanned skin felt under my hand. Christ, I did not want to go, but I had to.

Leaving for home had been the most difficult decision in my life I think, but somehow I needed to distance myself too. To think about my girlfriend a bit...


Jack stayed home the next day too. Nothing really exciting happened for the first part of the day (I kept mostly to myself anyway), so at lunch after eating a bite I stuck out for the park as usual. Jennifer was there ahead of me, also as usual. It felt awkward being the one approaching her, what if she did not want to talk to me? But, she did after all.

"Hello there, stranger", she greeted me. It wasn't as if we'd not seen each other for a year or whatever, us falling into each other's arms and everything. No, it was a quite, uh, 'natural' reunion instead, plain and functional sort of.

"Can I join you?" When she gave the go-ahead, I sat down at her side, not saying anything. Neither did she.

"Oh, this is so silly!", she exclaimed after a while. "I can't just sit here any longer, TALK to me, Alex! Say SOMEthing!"

I didn't know what to say. "Do you still love me?", I asked. I had no idea where it had come from, but I guess the thought had been gnawing at my sub-conscious mind for a while now, and it just popped out.

Jennifer got really, really mad. "Of course I still love you, you big idiot!", she yelled at me and whacked me harder on my shoulder than ever before, forcing me to bite down to silence the pain.

"Good." I looked at her, and she was angry and upset and disappointed, but there was still love deep underneath. I knew it, I just had to bring it up to the surface. I took her in my arms, she struggled against me first, but then relented. And then we kissed. Almost as soon as we touched, her anger disappeared and she again became more like the girl I knew. Maybe I had misjudged her. I'm really not such a Casanova I can spin a girl and turn her on her head with just a kiss, she probably wasn't as angry as I'd thought. Or maybe she was tricking me into believing she was a lot angrier than what really was the case, I'm not sure. It would be just like her to do something like that though; she knows how to make a guy feel guilty.

Afterwards, we talked through what we were feeling. Or rather, I mostly did the talking up until she'd told me she didn't really need a blow-by-blow description of what had happened between me and Jack, and that had totally cracked me up. It just sounded so funny, considering the context of our discussion. She tried to be annoyed with me when I laffed (she never did like being made the butt of a joke, especially when it was she herself that made it), but she of course understood why it had been funny and was soon heartily giggling along with my belly-laughs. Jesus, that felt so good. She sat leaning up against my chest, and we once more just enjoyed being alone in each other's company.

I sent Jack a thought, and my heart twinged at the thought of him possibly being all alone there in that big house. But what could I do? I could not be in two different locations at the same time however much I wanted to. And Jennifer, she was here and now...

We decided we would go out and see a movie together after school (yes, even though I was supposedly grounded, I believed I could talk my way out of it), there was a new romantic drama coming to the multiplex that Friday, and even though I'm not much into such stuff (and not Jennifer either come to think about it), we still decided to go see it, since it was the most talked-about movie to come for a long time. Waiting for her to get out of art class wasn't difficult, I was looking forward to our little excursion together.

She came out of the school building eventually, and we had ample time to get down to the cinema. First show was at four thirty, but that was on the biggest screen with like a thousand or more seats. Jennifer wanted us to go to a smaller, more intimate theatre, so we had to wait until five. I called home and told I wouldn't be able to make it home for dinner. My mom first got irritated because I wasn't home already boring myself out of my skull in my room, but she brightened up when she heard who I was with and allowed me to stay anyway, and I felt a little sad. I feared neither of my parents would be able to accept Jack and the huge part he played in my life just like they so readily did with Jennifer.

Anyway, I must say the movie was fantastic. I usually don't fall for stuff like that: romance, boy meets girl, girl loses boy finds boy anew, loses boy again forever stuff y'know. However, at the end of the movie when the male hero - played by a young pretty thing - died and all the girls in the room (including my own) were bawling their eyes out over him, I also felt myself rather shaken. I blamed the music. Damn Hollywood, they always had to lay it on so thick with those strings...! Yes, it was a really great movie. I held Jennifer's hand like a true gentleman, and she kept squeezing my leg whenever she felt like it. So Very Unfair.

After the movie had ended, we headed back towards Jennifer's place. It was over an hour's walk away, but the evening was warm and pleasant. I held her hand again, and deeply enjoyed her company. At her place, her dad was going to fix us dinner, which sounded great to me - I had been living on a diet consisting purely of popcorn and soda since lunchtime. Jennifer's old man was the kind of person that probably would have been arrested during the McCarthy era, always going on about how big business was busy destroying, buying or stealing what little democracy remained in our country and things like that. I don't know if he was right or not, but he was probably the most decent person I knew. His 'moral standards', which had been such a popular topic of discussion about me recently, were very high, and it showed in the girl he'd brought up too. I was so glad she was still accepting me.

Jennifer had no mother. Well, not a living one anyway; she had died soon after giving birth, and her father had never remarried. He was a bit like a swan in that regard I thought; I'd heard they also mated for life and never took another if the other died. Not sure growing up without a mother had affected her, but she didn't seem as whimsical as many other girls, who often talked of little else than makeup, clothes and boy-band members (or at least it seemed so to me at that point in my life). She read poetry, and drew sketches in pen and ink and was really, really good at it too. She'd wanted me to do me in the nude several times, but I'd never let her (too much of a coward). If she asked again now, I wasn't so sure I would say no.

Max, Jennifer's dad, had a big, red beard. His head was completely bald and shiny like a billiard ball, even though he was only in his forties, and he had kind of a big belly you could say. It was attached to a huge frame, his hands were huge too, which suited him well, being a worker at the steel mill outside town. He wasn't so tall, 6,2" or in the thereabouts perhaps, but he was BIG. And kind. He would join in our discussions when it was appropriate and always kept out of the way whenever I and Jennifer wanted to be alone. I think that was because he loved his girl so much, he wanted her to be happy above all else. That evening, he had grilled salmon and tomatoes for us on the barbecue outside, tossed up a great salad and made baked potatoes in the oven. It was a superb meal, even though we had to wait for it a bit after getting to her place so I had time to get even hungrier.

They lived in an old house that Max's father had built fairly early on in the century. It was yellow, and looked rather tall compared to its width. It had two storeys and an attic which Max had turned into an art studio for his daughter. Her room was also located there, and we soon retired ourselves from the dinner table. Max knew we were intimate, but did not poke his nose where it did not belong (according to his own standards even, not just ours). As long as I treated her well, I had nothing to fear from the big man, that I knew. And even though Max knew of me and the reputation I had, he believed it when I said that Jennifer was the most precious thing I had. It had been true all up until I met Jack.

Now I had two things that were the most precious things I had, and whenever I told him about it, I was certain he would support me. It wasn't time for that yet though.

As soon as we reached Jennifer's room, she sat down on her bed. I remained standing at the door. Since the room was in the attic, the roof didn't leave much headroom except in the middle of the room. She had two skylight windows, one on each side, and a triangular window set in the wall of the house. Most of the sloping inner ceiling was covered with her sketches, many of them showing my head from various angles. I always felt both flattered and a bit awkward about all the effort and attention she had spent drawing me whenever I saw them.

"Alex, let's talk", she said. 'Uh-oh', was my inner response.

"Alright." We HAD talked already, but I knew saying so would not change her mind. She wanted to talk some more, and it was probably going to get uncomfortable so I tried to sound as casual as possible. "Shoot."

She hesitated. She even blushed. Her, of all people, she who was candor personified. "I'm sorry, but I just have to know this... You remember when I asked you the other week whether you'd... You know, HAD him...?"

Yes, I remembered alright, and I felt a bit annoyed. She had already said she didn't want any details and here she went and asked anyway. Dammit, she was just TOO NOSEY at times. "You wanted to know if I'd fucked him yet, yeah I haven't forgotten", I said. I wanted her to feel ashamed, and I got what I wanted.

Her lightly freckled face flushed red, not the entire face like with me (and sometimes even down my throat), but on and around her cheeks and forehead. "Don't be so crude!", she said, looking utterly ridiculous. It was all her fault! "I said I'm sorry, alright?"

"Apology accepted", I replied curtly. "What I told you then is still true, I'm sure that's what you wanted to know."

She cast down her eyes, too embarrassed to look straight at me. "Yeah. Remember what I asked you next...?" She was very hesitant, I on my hand said nothing, quite on purpose. I wanted to make this difficult for her, and my silence coaxed her along, forcing her to do all that work she'd rather not touch with her own hands. "...You still want to do it, right?" It almost came as a whisper.

"I don't fuck you in the ass, do I", I replied heatedly, feeling myself starting to get angry. Was that really any of her business? I wasn't sure. but I sure as hell was starting to think it WASN'T.

She blushed deeper still if possible. "ALEX...!", she tried to admonish me. But it didn't work. "...You know I'm not into such stuff", she said at last, probably feeling clumsy and out of place. Served her just right.

I shot Jennifer a dark look. "Yeah, and maybe he isn't either, who knows! What are you getting at, dammit?", I snapped at her. "If you're just out to yank my chain, I can tell ya it's working!" My good mood was suddenly gone with the wind.

I had succeeded. Yes, I'd finally managed to bring my iron-willed girlfriend to tears completely on my own. Wow, what a big man I was. "Alex, I'm so sorry!", she said in between shuddering sobs. "Please forgive me!" SHE wanted ME to forgive HER? I was so bewildered I just stood there, still looking like a thunderhead. "I know I was being rude but I just wanted to know..."

"Know what?", I asked dourly.

She couldn't speak a single word for over a minute, she was too upset. "Damn you, Alex!", she managed after a while. "You really want me to spell it out for you?" I felt like the world's biggest asshole, but she had put herself in this situation as well, it wasn't all my fault. I stood there and said nothing. "I wanted to know if we were ever going to have SEX again, Alex! There, I've said it." Christ... I was in total shock, I had never expected her to be so blunt, so open with her fears. It just didn't fit in with her.

I softly padded over to her where she was sitting on the bed, her face in her hands, elbows on her knees. I put a light hand on her shoulder. "Girl, you never did anything wrong in my book", I told her. "Please, please don't cry any more."

It isn't like turning off a water tap, when one is upset, the feelings has to run their course until the end. It was the same with Jennifer as with everyone else. But I knew she felt relaxed by my words, so I sat down beside her and put a comforting arm over her shoulder.

I am NOT going to tell you what happened for the next couple hours, what went on between me and my beloved Jennifer is not fit to share with anyone except ourselves. It was too precious, sacred. Anyway, let's just say, that I never did go home that night. There, that should be enough to get you going.


Saturday and Sunday I spent at home, mowing the lawn and doing various chores around the house. My parents kept me on a tight leach, making sure that if I wasn't doing some cleaning up either indoors or outside, I was up in my room with my nose in a textbook of some sort. I tell ya, neither the garage nor toolshed out back in the yard had ever been that neat and tidy after I'd spent hours working my buns off scrubbing the floor, dusting shelves and sorting through all the various boxes of stuff that accumulates as people live in a home for twenty years straight.

I was restless.

Restless from being pent-up in the yard, and my room. Restless from being kept away from Jack. Everybody in my family could see it, even my sisters stayed away from me, not trying to tease me. I suspect maybe my parents kept me away from him to 'save' me from the homosexual kid's 'bad influence' or something. For two days I didn't even dare phoning him. Third day - Monday - I got sick. Headache, queasiness and I was running a fever. My father called the school before he got off to work saying I would not be attending that day, and probably not for a couple days more. My mom took the young kids to their school before leaving for work as well. I was instructed to stay in bed, drink plenty of water and not watch any TV.

About two minutes after they both had left, I jumped out of bed, threw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and hurried over to Jack's place, my disease 'mysteriously' gone all of a sudden. Wouldn't it be ironic if he'd decided to go back to school that Monday? I could have called him first of course, but I wanted to show up in person. Calling isn't the same, I'm sure you understand what I mean. I skated like crazy, hoping he'd be there for me when I got there.

When I arrived at the big house, I was almost too scared to dare ring the doorbell. What if...

What if WHAT? ...If he wasn't there? ...If he was feeling rejected? I had said I'd be with my girlfriend at a moment when he had been feeling vulnerable, and then not kept in touch for three days! ...If he felt betrayed and didn't want to even look at me again?

I skated back and forth on the street in front of the house, feeling indecisive like I'd never been before.

I wished there would be movement in a window. Me only catching a glimpse of it, but sure it had been there, long, pretty hazel-brown hair on the other side of a triple-glazed window. It would be now or never: acting on a hunch, I would turn around and quickly skate up to the front door. I'd go so fast that I would have to stop myself by running into the door itself, but as I'd almost reach it, arms outstretched to act as buffers, it would open inwards.

I'd roll straight into the house, catching Jack on the way and lift him high. Totally overcome with joy, I would swear to him I would never leave him again, ever.


I'd ring the doorbell. Again, and again. Many times. Nobody would answer, but still I'd keep ringing. I would eventually sit down on the wide front porch, determined to wait for him to return, even if it would take all day. After a while, a guy from the house right across the street would come out to empty his mailbox to get the morning paper, and seeing me there, he'd call out to me.

"Son!", he'd say as I got up. "If you're looking for the kid living there, don't bother. They all packed up and left for France yesterday. They won't be coming back." Then he'd get his paper and return to the security of his home, leaving me standing there holding the broken pieces of my heart in my hands.

I kept imagining the most dreadful, horrific things, and I grew ever more apprehensive.

Even as I cringed at the thought, I was actually contemplating turning around and leaving. I was simply too damn scared to try to approach the boy that I loved. What if... What if? I could not finish the sentence. No, a clean break had to be better. Maybe he wasn't even there anymore. Maybe he HAD left already...

I did turn around and was about to skate the fuck outta there in a state of half-panic, when I saw him sitting on the curved stairs in front of that big, white door. I had no idea when he'd appeared, no idea how long he'd been there. One moment from the next, and he just was.

Jack sat there, holding his slightly pointy chin in his hands, almost amused it seemed to me. Like he was wondering what the hell I was doing, going back and forth outside the house like that. I had stopped completely, and simply stared at him. If a herd of elephants had come stomping through right then, they could have run me down without me ever noticing it.

"Are you just going to stand there all day or what?", he asked quietly. I didn't have to strain to hear, I could hear him quite clearly inside my mind.

I approached him slowly and cautiously, I still wasn't sure if he was happy to see me or not. I should have been able to tell, but I was feeling so damn insecure I wouldn't have been able to tell left from right at that moment. As I closed the distance, he rose up from his sitting position, and let himself be caught in my outstretched arms. Or, come to think of it, it was more the other way around I think.

Jack held me, making all my worries slowly drain away as I shed some tears on his shoulder, so happy that he still accepted me.

"I'm sorry", I whispered, sniffling. "I did not mean to abandon you!"

He hugged me close. "You did not abandon me, you're here now aren't you..." I felt his lovely scent of faint flowery perfume and that which was altogether him, and I did not want to let go of him ever again.

A while later when I had calmed down and gotten my skates off, we found ourselves sitting on the back verandah next to the pool. The house came with a number of large, heavy deck chairs a bit like those they had on those big Trans-Atlantic cruising ships in decades past. They were extremely comfortable, and it was so relaxing, leaning back and sinking down into the padded wooden chair. Jack was lapping sunlight just like I was in the chair next to mine, and I held my hand on top of his as it rested next to him.

Jack was wearing nothing but a pair of tight Speedos and black sunglasses that fit snugly on his lovely face. I had my floppy cotton shorts on, but had tossed off my T-shirt. I kept looking at him, not able to wrench my eyes away. Why should I, Jack was mine. So beautiful...

"I love you, you know", he said straight out into the air. It was the first time I'd heard it coming from his mouth. Suddenly he turned around in the chair, took off the sunglasses and looked at me. "You do understand that, don't you? That I love you?" He stretched out the words, like it was a new, sudden realization to him.

He was smiling at me, so happy and content. I grinned back and raised up the back of my deck chair a bit, then stretched out and grabbed him under his arms. Up in the air Jack went, and down on my lap, where he settled himself like it was the most natural place in the world for him to be. I raised up my knees to support his shapely butt, and suddenly he stuck in his heels (one encased in that plaster cast as it was) under my legs and thusly bracing himself, leaned forward right into my face.

We kissed. Only our lips touched, and just barely at that. Jack kept his arms at his sides, I kept mine on the armrests of the chair. But one kiss was not enough for me, I wanted more. Acting on this sudden desire, I took his face in my hands, and slowly began to lick it. I dunno what Jack was thinking at that moment, if he thought me mad, but he let me keep at it. I lightly held him, and let the tip of my tongue run across his perfectly smooth skin. Each part of him had its own texture, its own unique taste it seemed, and as I passed across one of his closed eyes, he began to giggle boyishly. I could feel the raised cornea beneath his eyelid, feel it moving about beneath that thin, velvety soft layer of skin...

I pushed Jack back a bit to look at him. He was still giggling, his face blushing slightly beneath his sun-tan. I reached out with my hand and caressed a lovely cheek; it was hot to the touch. The color of his face was not all that had changed about Jack; the tip of his erected penis was sticking out of the top of his swimming trunks, and the sight made me tingle with desire. I felt the blood rushing into my own organ, feeling it swell and start pressing against Jack's posterior. He grinned, recognizing what was happening to me, and raised up his butt a little and started to pull down his Speedos.

I jumped up.

"Dammit, kid!", I gasped. "Not-"

He put a hand over my mouth and laughed, a clear, bubbling laugh. "Who's going to see us? I skinny-dip all the time out here." He gestured at the tall hedge around the garden, and, yeah... He was probably right. I cast a suspicious look at the third-floor windows of the house on the other side of the hedge. Unless someone was standing there, looking down at us, nobody could see what we were doing. "RELAX, okay?", Jack ordered me. Then he resumed wiggling out of his swimming trunks. It did not take him long, and my dick was pounding with excitement long before that.

Jack's Speedos fell to the wooden floor below us without a sound, and I was again treated to an unobstructed view of his lovely body. His magnificent, pale dick was pointing out almost straight from him like it used to, throbbing with its own inner life. He pulled the lever that lowered down the back of the chair so that I was almost lying down flat on my back, and then crouched so his cute, white butt was sticking up straight in the air. I was wondering what was going to happen next, and after holding me like that over hot coals - me getting hotter all the time - he slowly started creeping back towards me. As his body righted itself again, his dick touched my stomach and I immediately felt the hairs on my body rise up, despite the warmness in the air. He let his dick kind of drag itself up my stomach, leaving a clear trail of moist slime in its wake.

Jack moved up high enough to plant a kiss on my forehead, then unexpectedly dropped straight down like a sack of flour, almost knocking my breath out of my lungs. Again, he bubbled with laughter and excitement, and I wrapped my arms around him.

"You will be the end of me if you keep it up like that", I told Jack, and gave him a crushing hug, making him groan. We laughed together, sharing the deck chair, with me taking the time to find the various sensitive places on his body. Jack was kinda ticklish, but with him, the difference between a tickle - which most people actually find quite annoying - and sexual stimulation was very subtle. One second he could be squirming about on top of me trying to get away, giggling madly, and the next, as I would touch him slightly differently, he'd just melt in my hands, moaning with pleasure. His neck was sensitive, from below his ears and down, and the sides of his chest, and most of all perhaps, the insides of his thighs and other places too. I had the pleasure of watching his eyes suddenly start to flutter as I got things right in every possible way. We'd take small pauses in between and simply cuddle, and then we'd start anew again. I took off my shorts too, and that only made things even better, I loved it when he'd lie down on his back on top of me so my hard dick could reach up between his buttocks, while I caressed his soft, flat tummy...

After a good while of constant stimulation, my balls were aching so bad I thought they were going to crack apart from the strain! Staying sexually aroused for a long time without relief does that to me, and I didn't know how to bring the topic up to Jack without looking like an idiot. Lucky me then, I didn't have to.

"Let's go swim!", he said, his stomach pressed tightly against mine.

I had been busy gently massaging the twin mounds of his butt, just as he was busying himself playing with my pectorals, kissing them and nibbling at my nipples. I wasn't sure it was such a great idea, still a bit apprehensive about being naked without being enclosed by walls, even if it was in a place where it was unlikely I'd be seen. Jack was relentless however, and tugged and pulled on me until I yielded. Of course, seeing his magnificent body moving helped a lot of course, and thinking how it would feel next to my own in the water of the swimming pool.

"We'd better get that foot of yours wrapped up", I said with a grin and picked him up by putting a firm hand under his butt. I was always amazed at how light he was to hold in my arms as I lifted him. Jack wrapped himself around me, holding on real tight like a leech, and I was starting to get dizzy from excitement. I buried a hand in his hair, holding the other under his butt to make sure he was safe, and walked into the house to find a suitable plastic bag.

Inside the house it was very dark even with the lights turned on, and it felt rather chilly. Jack burned with a strange inner heat, keeping me warm. I hugged him close to me, not wanting to let go. We quickly found what we were looking for, and wrapped up his foot real tight, then emerged out into hot sunlight again. I lowered Jack down to the ground at the side of the kind of kidney-shaped pool where he looked at me, flashed me a grin and dove into the water. It wasn't nearly as graceful as he would have managed using two legs, but still a fairly nice dive. The splash scattered water far and wide, much landing on me I have to say, and soon Jack surfaced to survey the carnage.

Tossing his head back to clear his long hair out of his vision, Jack paddled back to me, laughing. I was still standing there, my wang only semi-hard now from lack of stimulation. "Hey! Come on, hop in!", he suggested. "It's warm in here!" To help my decision making along, Jack sent a huge splash of water my way with his hands. I tried to shield myself as best I could, but it was impossible as Jack continued to splash me with more water. I took a big leap and curled up in the air, making an enormous depth-charge-like attack as I landed in the pool.

"Yeah! That's more like it!", Jack congratulated me as he swam up to me and attached himself much like an octopus I think. His hardness jabbed me like a sword in my lower stomach, and my pulse immediately quickened.

The water was warm and pleasant, and being naked in a swimming pool was an entirely new experience for me, feeling the wetness envelop me in an entirely different manner compared to with a pair of swimming trunks on. Making love to Jack in the pool was also something new (even though water did seem to be a common denominator with us two), he became much more unhindered than on land; much more agile in a way and even the cast didn't seem to bother him much.

I loved it whenever I managed to touch him exactly the right way and a wave of ecstatic pleasure would crash over him, making his eyes roll up in his skull, just like that first time we began our amorous exploits. I'd reward him with a deep, sensual kiss each time it happened. Jack came fairly quickly, for me it was more difficult.

We had to restrain ourselves somewhat, since we were outdoors we could not afford too much in the way of groaning and moaning, no matter how good something felt, and that was a bit frustrating. Jack was doing wonders to me with his hands as we were curled up together at the shallow end of the pool, and I had to bite my lip to keep myself from crying out. Finally, I allowed myself to discharge, and almost thought I would faint from the strain. I'd never quite felt that way before, I got this strange sense of vertigo, and then, the next second I was completely submerged under water. I came up again, sputtering, gasping, then promptly inhaled some foam off the surface which set off a coughing attack. Jack seemed highly amused by my performance, rewarding my not-so-near-death-experience with a fit of laughter more worthy of a seven-year-old than a young teenager.

"Alright, you little rascal!", I told him and ruffled up his wet hair that laid slicked against his pretty head. "I've had enough bathing for a while, how about you?" Without waiting, I again put my hands around him and bodily lifted him up and started walking out of the pool. Jack was still hard, while I was all floppy down beneath my waist. I admired his stamina, but then again, he hadn't just spent himself either, so I wasn't jealous or anything.

We again returned to the deck chair, Jack using me as a mattress, which I did not mind the slightest of course. In fact, I still couldn't get enough of him, and we proceeded to a session of wild, passionate kissing as we slowly dried in the sun. Eventually, we were so exhausted we just laid there, our bodies touching in the most exquisite manner. I'd feel every muscle of his tense and move as he adjusted himself every once in a while on top of me to find a more comfortable position, and then he'd relax and simply sink down into me... Yes, I sure enjoyed it.

"That first time...", I said slowly. "You spoke in a French accent." It wasn't a question, really. Or you could say that it was.

"Yeah, well, I was trying to seduce you, so it seemed proper", Jack said in an amused voice. "Besides, French is the language of love, no?", he added in an outrageous accent.

I laughed, making him bounce up and down on top of me. "You show-off."

Jack smiled. "Why do you think I dressed in those tight pants that first day we met, huh? You think I go to school looking like that every day?"

That kind of baffled me. Then it dawned on me. "You had been looking me over before we met, hadn't you!"

He shrugged as best he could, lying down like that. "Yeah. I'd seen you around..."

"You little weasel, you said it was fate, the reason we met!" I shook an accusing finger at him, but I could not help laughing.

"It was!", Jack defended himself stoically. "I just helped it along a bit."

"Dammit, kid!", I yelled and threw my arms around him, still laughing. After that, we did not speak much, we just... Well, existed. Jack was resting his head against my chest, listening to the slow beating of my heart I knew. I'm not sure how much time we spent like that, because hours must have passed and we hadn't moved from the spot. We both probably dozed off for a while, I'm not sure. Anyway, I started to worry about Jack's parents coming home (yes, I still wasn't ready to face them), and then he told me they had already left for France the day before. Thomas the cook was going to come at five to fix dinner, but there was nothing either before or after stopping us from having a good time together, so we again relaxed and simply shared the moment.

"You boys had fun today?" There were no hidden undertones in his question, just plain curiosity.

Thomas Vermillion was a pretty cool guy, much younger than I'd expect of a cook, about 25 or so perhaps. Definitely less than thirty at least. He was pale like me and about my height, but blonde, and a little soft around the waist (probably from tasting all those sauce pans all day or whatever he did when not cooking for Jack). Not so much that he was actually fat, but not slim either mind you. And as I said, a pretty cool guy. You could easily relate to him, since he wasn't that much older. We watched him make dinner for us, and he'd keep talking about what it was he was doing, about the ingredients and where they came from etc, but then he could suddenly switch topic completely and start talking about sports for example, or books, some writer that Jack liked.

He was quite a character, and one could not help oneself liking him either. Making dinner for Jack was apparently the last thing on his agenda that day, because he shared a meal with us. As it turned out, he was a vegetarian too, but not as hardcore as Jack, more due to a personal preference than an ethical choice I think. I had a nice steak with all the trimmings while they shared some soy mush. No, I do Thomas' cooking skills a great disservice by saying that, it actually looked rather delicious, but don't ask me what it was called. I don't know, and I did not ask.

After dinner we retired up to Jack's place while Thomas took care of the dishes and all that. He had been asked by Jack's parents to stay over to keep an eye on their son, but it would not be necessary that day. I had decided, I would not go home that evening.

Making the phone call wasn't very pleasant, but I had to do it.

"So... The old thermometer-and-bedlamp trick, huh?", my father asked me.

"Umm, yeah. Sorry about tricking you like that."

He was quiet for a few seconds. "Well, you know, son...", he started, perhaps uncertain what he was going to say, and how to say it. "We only wish what's best for you, your mother and I. You know that, don't you?"

I didn't know what to say, he'd probably try to talk me out of seeing Jack again, saying it was a phase I'd have to pass through but everything would turn out just fine in the end... So, I said nothing. My father seemed to sense the reasons for my silence.

"I know your new friend...uh...means a lot to you. We worry only because we love you son, but if you are sure about this..." He stopped and seemed unable to continue.

"Thanks, dad", was all I said.

He hesitated. "You take care now, you hear?"

We said goodbye, and that was it. A couple pounds of rocks had just fallen from my heart. Jack and I spent the evening watching another DVD movie called "Gattaca", and when Jude Law appeared, Jack asked this really weird question.

"You think he's attractive?"

I was kinda perplexed. "Who, that guy there?" I pointed at the screen. Jack paused the movie, then nodded. "Well... Uh, no. Not really."

"Aww, come ON! You can say it!"

I told Jack the truth. "I only have eyes for you, kiddo."

He blushed, I know he did. I kissed him on his lovely forehead, and then we sat together and enjoyed the rest of the movie. When it was over, Jack yawned deeply, then stretched. "Tired...", he mumbled and suddenly started to strip off his clothes. That made me think of where I was supposed to sleep. The sofa, while comfy for a limited period of time, really wasn't suited for a whole night's rest, and Jack's bed was awfully small for two people. Maybe Jack had sensed this in me, because when he was only dressed in his birthday suit he held out his arms at me. "Pick me up!", he ordered and I obeyed willingly.

I put one arm beneath his back, the other under his knees, and he wrapped one of his arms around my shoulders. Telling me to go out into the corridor, he steered me back to the stairs and beyond. At the very end of that corridor was a white door.

It kinda felt like my wedding night somehow, carrying Jack over the threshold into that white dream of a bedroom. It was totally, completely MAGNIFICENT. Right in the center of the roughly square room, in front of two large windows, was an enormous bed made of some deep, deep brown, almost black wood. It had four corner posts supporting a satin and lace canopy. The white bedspreads were also full of lace and frills and all sorts of fancy stuff. The room's walls were made of white-painted wood paneling, and along the right wall there was a big wooden clothes cabinet (also white). The left wall was decorated with several tall porcelain pots (or would that be urns, perhaps?) that were stacked full with long-stemmed, dried pink roses. The windows had elaborate silken and lace curtains that flowed like twin waterfalls towards the floor. Next to the door, there was a stand with a washbasin and a narrow, tall mirror attached to it.

The air inside was dry and just a little bit dusty, like nobody had set foot in there for ages. I could feel the smell of clean linen too, and there was still a tiny hint of flower scent too I think. Jack laid there in my arms, studying my face as I took everything in. Yes, it was kind of overwhelming. Not that the room was sheer luxury or anything, it was just very fancy, and beautiful in a modest kind of way.

I shifted my grip on Jack so I could get one hand free, then pulled away the covers to make room for him. I put him down, tucked him up and saw him nestle in so perfectly it just made my heart ache. His dark brown hair spilled out over that shiny white pillow, and he was simply beauty personified. I caressed one of his cheeks for just a moment, feeling so much love and affection for him it was almost unbearable. His eyes were closed, his breathing light and regular, like he was already well on his way towards the kingdom of sleep.

I lightly walked around the bed and climbed in really slowly so I would not disturb him. Thusly, I bedded Jack for the first time, we shared peace and warmth in our sleep. I could not possibly have been more satisfied.

Yes, saying this makes me remember the flippant remarks I made at the start of this story. No, I'm still not a faggot, I have to say. A pointless distinction one might think when I have already proven myself to be able to love a boy, but an important one to me all the same. And while there may be nothing I enjoy MORE than sleeping next to a beautiful girl, I enjoy it just as much with a boy. As for how I'd react now, being checked out by a guy in a shower... Well, I just might be a bit flattered. See? A guy can change! All in a week and a half. Just a week and a half...

The rest of the week that followed up until That Day was bizarre to say the least. I won't say that Jennifer and Jack shared me, exactly, it sounds so... Well, primitive. The morning on Tuesday was hell for me; I did not wish to leave Jack again, but he called a cab and followed me to school. It made things easier for me I must say.

I did spend every other day at each of their places, savoring every moment with each of them. My parents hardly caught a glimpse of me during that short period, I'm not sure what the heck they were thinking really. I hope they were happy about me being happy however, but as I said, I'm not sure. How we were going to hold everything together as we grew up, I had no idea. Things can change so much when people pass from adolescence into adulthood. We took everything one step at a time, and it had worked out just fine that far.

What Jack wanted with his life, I wasn't really sure. He never had much of a childhood I'm sad to say, and by then he was too old to go back and try to make up for what he'd lost. Obviously, his gymnastics meant a lot to him, and not being able to practice on his trampoline in the garden grated on him. And the skating too, not just rollerblading, but proper figure skating on ice. He'd never done much of that either in the past, but he wanted to. In a way, that cast was hurting him more than the broken ankle I'd say.

As I had already guessed, it wasn't that his parents had denied him any of these things, they just never encouraged him pursuing them. Only his education had mattered to them it seemed, but to be fair to them (they weren't monsters), they had been tricked along by Jack's talent. He soaked everything up so quickly they feared he would get bored if they didn't constantly pile on new stuff for him to learn. That sports might have been more important to their Brainiac of a son than third-grade equations and integrals just never occurred to them, it was beyond their horizon of comprehension since they themselves had never had any such interests.


Another week, another full circle. That Thursday made it fourteen days since Jack stormed into my life on those rollerblades of his, and it was also the end of one brief era of my life and the start of another, in more than one meaning of the words. Jennifer, me and Jack were going on our first...eh...triple date. It was just a test, we weren't planning anything ahead of it, certainly no threesomes in bed or anything even remotely like that.

Besides, by then, Jennifer was dying to meet Jack properly; the only time she'd even spoken to him was the day after he had tumbled me in the hockey arena shower.

Things worked out well, we had selected the movie we wanted to see, a rough Indiana Jones-style action adventure, and Max, Jennifer's father, came in his big station wagon and picked us up to take us to the cinema. We all bunched up in the back seat with me in the middle, primed and ready to have a good time first at the cinema and then a restaurant. I'd made a dinner reservation for a nice table for three at a place that really was more expensive than I could afford, but I wanted it to be my treat.

I can hardly describe the events that were to come, the loss, the grief and the constant heartache that followed me every single day unto this very moment. But I mustn't get ahead of myself...

The movie was great. In fact, it was more than great. Actually, the on-screen action was barely acceptable; a bit of a paradox perhaps. Sure, the special effects were awesome, the action was hot and thick and the girls beautiful, but it lacked originality in the extreme and what little story there was, was re-hashed and extremely lame. Mostly the whole movie seemed like one long ad for one particular brand of mobile phones, but that mattered little on the whole. No, what was so great was watching it with the two most important individuals of my life. Imagine what it's like having a hand squeezing each of your legs at the same time, having a pretty head leaning against each shoulder, getting a loving peck on each of your cheeks at times. There you will have me right then, I was in heaven. I was literally swimming in a sea of love and wonders, and it totally and completely made up for the rather duff movie.

When we came out the front doors, I held a protective arm over each of their shoulders. I was floating on little pink clouds you could say, which would only make the quickly approaching fall so much harder.

The wide street in front of us had two lanes in each direction, and the restaurant was a few blocks away on the other side. It wasn't far at all, Jack could manage easily even without my help; he was hopping around on his crutches like he'd never done anything else in his life. I'd taken him on my shoulders in the blink of an eye if necessary however.

As we approached the crossing, a police car went past at full bore, sirens blaring, lights flashing. We all turned our heads in the direction it was going to see what was up since it had ran past even though we had a green light. Just before the next intersection it skidded to a halt sideways, tires screeching against the asphalt. It completely blocked both lanes, and we were wondering what the hell was up as we stepped out into the street, not knowing that Death was literally bearing down on us at that very second.

The mechanical roar of a big diesel engine being pushed to the limit made me turn my head.

Only I saw the truck coming. It had been hi-jacked by a professional car thief just half an hour earlier, loaded shock full of valuable consumer electronics, and we were now straight in its path.

"Oh SHIT!", was all I managed to say as I stopped dead in my tracks. I wanted to pull my loved ones to safety, but there wasn't any time for that, I was too slow. Jennifer and Jack had proceeded ahead of me, Jack on crutches and Jennifer on her own two beautiful legs, before they too realized what was happening. They managed not quite two steps I'd think.

The truck slammed into all three of us, striking me a glancing blow that tossed me aside like a rag doll up onto the sidewalk which we had left only seconds earlier. I do not remember anything of the following one and a half days or so.

Slowly awakening in a hospital bed, I found myself surrounded by people that I knew.

My whole family was there. My mom and dad, and my two sisters. My maternal grandmother. Jennifer's father was there. Jack's mother and father was there.

Their eyes were all red and swollen, some of them still crying and sniffling.

I understood what had happened, and my world absolutely shattered to pieces.

The ancient immovable oak tree, it's massive trunk split down the middle by lightning. The bark ravaged and blackened by fire. The leaves burned to ashes. It was no longer living.

Moving on from something like that is not easy. Quite frankly, I don't understand myself how I did it. Maybe I had time to put my mind back together as my body healed, physically I had come away relatively unscathed from the ordeal. A couple ribs were busted, my left arm fractured. A concussion, some bruises and scratches. That was it. Quite frankly, I did not consider myself worthy to live for a long time afterwards, I had the worst case of survivor's guilt you could possibly imagine and would just break down into tears at the most inopportune of moments. Knowing I had stood there and not been able to save my loved ones, it almost drove me over the edge. Had I been able to switch places with them, giving my life for saving theirs, I would have done it in a heartbeat.

I was going to hold a speech at the joint funeral ceremony, I had written it all up and everything, but when the moment came all I could do was stand there in my black suit and weep in the slow rain, refusing the protection of an umbrella.

Jack, the love of my life, goodbye.

Jennifer, the love of my life, goodbye.

That was all I managed over the course of five minutes. I stood there in front of school classmates, team mates, friends, relatives, and expressed my love and sorrow for a boy and a girl. But who cares about such things at a moment like that? Not I, not I...

Jack's parents moved out of the big house soon afterwards and went back to Caïx, France. Of the university study became nothing. They could have taken their son with them to be put to rest in his homeland, but they didn't. I'm not sure why, maybe they thought he had been more at home here than he'd ever been back there. He rested next to Jennifer and her mother's graves. It seemed fitting, somehow.

Geoffrey Fletcher (Esquire, I believe), the owner of the house, was a very decent and understanding English fellow. He kindly kept Jack's rooms intact exactly as they were the last time he had been in them, only having them dusted off every once in a while. I go there sometimes just to try and remember what it had been like, knowing that wonderful kid with the wry grin who had managed to communicate so much to me using so little. Jack's grave, that is not where he is. He lives in that big house, not in a cold, damp hole in the ground... I don't disturb, nor even touch anything when I'm there, apart from flipping the DVD player to track number five of the loaded CD.

It was the last tune I ever heard together with Jack. 'Sarabande: Largo', Concerto No.3 for Oboe in G minor by Händel. He had been quite the classics buff, and in some ways it has rubbed off on me too.

I just stand there, listening to the music until it ends, perhaps hoping to hear the toilet flush and see him coming out of the bathroom, smiling happily at me. It is a wish I know will never be fulfilled, but I cannot help myself all the same. I usually cry a little too while listening to the crisp but sorrowful tones. Mr. Fletcher, being the elderly, distinguished gentleman that he is, sometimes invites me to dinner afterwards. Thomas cooks the food and then joins us, and I silently wonder if the two are an item or not. They try to cheer me up, but it is still so hard, so very hard to come to terms with it all. Anyway, it's been a while now since I last visited. I don't know when, or even if I'll ever go back.

As for me... Well, I told you before more than once I'm not the brooding type, and despite everything that happened to me that autumn it still IS true. I think that's basically what saved me. Did I want to kill myself in the odd chance there was an afterlife and I'd join them there? Hell, yeah. In the first few weeks there wasn't a day that went past when the thought did not cross my mind. Damn, just moving, BREATHING was total pain due to my broken ribs (unless you've experienced it yourself, you really have no idea how bad it hurts). Gradually though, I could start handling my grief more at arm's length and that made my mood pick up somewhat. Also, I started hurting less, and I could begin to move about properly. It was possible to train hockey again, to work out at the gym. I got to it with vigor in order to make up for my lost strength, and like Jack, to soothe the awful pain I still was feeling deep inside of me.

Months afterwards, I had just about recovered completely, physically at least, and mentally, mostly. I still thought every day bleak and hollow, being bereft of the two objects that had shed so much sunlight into my existence. But it was not that abyss of total darkness that surrounded me like before either, thank goodness. I was back in school since long of course. But apart from that, nothing was the same as before. People knew about me and Jack, and what we had shared. I wasn't exactly shunned, but I wasn't the center of attention like I'd often been before either. I was calmer, didn't get into nearly as many arguments (and thus, fights) like I had before, and those that still happened, I ended before fists began flying. I guess people could feel I was no longer the thoughtless slugger I once had been. I had also been growing and gaining weight since the summer, and often it was enough to flex my arms a bit to convince any troublemaker it just wasn't worth it.

I did get to know the hidden side of a few of my old friends though, but none of them held any kind of attraction to me. We were, and remained friends, I could not think of them in any other way. We even became better friends than before I think, and I was satisfied with that. I even kept myself away from the girlies too. I could have gotten myself a new GF had I but wanted to, there were plenty of females interested in me. But my heart was not in it.

One Sunday, after having been walking around in Jack's old neighborhood I happened upon a small restaurant. A sign outside showed a long, swirling Chinese dragon, under it was a string of letters that proclaimed, 'Chao Fah Thai Dinner and Take-Away'. Acting on a hunch (and just a slight twinge of hunger, or maybe, the imagining of one just to get an excuse to go inside), I entered. The place was kind of cozy with raw wooden beams showing amongst the rough brick walls. Decorations were spartan, but it was neat, tidy and clean. It was also nearly deserted, maybe people didn't eat there in the early afternoon or they all ordered to go, I wasn't sure.

I was just sitting there, lost in melancholic thought while looking out a window when someone plopped down a menu in front of me. Without looking I said, "One number twenty-three please. Extra spicy. And a glass of orange juice if you have."

"Coming right up, dude", a smooth voice said and the menu disappeared just as quick.

I sat there feeling empty inside (and I'm not talking about my belly here), and soon the steaming plate was delivered to me. Feeling the vaguely familiar scent of the dish almost brought tears to my eyes. I looked up and saw that same Asian guy who had come by the house on Crescent Street that day looking back at me. He must have recognized me, because he told me how sorry he was about what had happened. He'd read about the accident in the paper and remembered it because he'd delivered takeaway to Jack on more than one occasion.

I thanked him and started eating my food without much enthusiasm. I couldn't force down much of it however good it should have tasted had I not been in such a somber mood. It was damn spicy, but that wasn't the problem. It was my spirit that was missing, and that made the food taste ashen. Anyway, I started coming back there, and I began talking more with the guy too. He'd sit down at my table whenever he had time, and we'd just...talk. He was in highschool too, second year (but not attending JHH), and the reason he was working in the restaurant was he was helping his folks out evenings and weekends (they owned the place). His name was Aroon, he was friendly, and after a while, I found myself liking him.

Yes, I definitely felt my spirit begin to rise, and especially when Aroon was either around or in my thoughts. I knew it never would, never could be the same between me and him as it had been between me and Jack and Jennifer, even if we were to be together somehow - which I could not take for granted, I had never even hinted it to him and neither had he to me. But I couldn't live my life like a swan either, even though a part of me felt I should, even wanted to. I'm just too young for that, the loves of my life just have to forgive my erring ways wherever they might happen to be right now, I have so many years ahead of me yet...

Autumn had passed well into winter, it was long past first snow. The months had continued to tick off, Christmas was behind me, as was new year's eve too. January had come and gone, Valentine's Day was coming up fast, and I noted that it would soon be six months since I'd first met, and then lost Jack. He'd turned fourteen, if he had still been alive. The air was fairly cold as far as plain temperature was concerned, but it wasn't windy at all, so it was actually rather pleasant an experience. Me and Aroon met up that day after school in the city after having spoken much about it at the restaurant. We'd never tried to see each other outside the walls of the Thai place, and I was a little apprehensive. Nervous.

I still hadn't mentioned to him the fact I kind of fancied him, and as for him there was only that vague hint of his sexuality which he'd dropped at our first encounter, complementing me and Jack together.

What if he didn't feel for me the way I did for him? Well, only one way to find out is there...

We wound up in Avalon Park, popular hanging-out place for young people in the summers, making out between the low hedge-rows, and with kids in the winter. That day it was too cold to make snowmen or snowballs however so not many were around, just some toddlers sliding down a small hill on their coveralled butts, watched over by their moms. Aroon really was a little taller than me, even if it was just one inch or maybe a bit more. Not as stocky a build as me though; he was a swimmer apparently, something I was not very good at, Aroon was lean but fairly broad-shouldered like many swimmers. Even though he was older and taller, I was the heavier and stronger of us two, and it made a good contrast between us, I think. Aroon's face was indeed good-looking, even quite pretty you could easily say. He had such beautiful black eyes, they looked like all pupil except for the whites. I always notice people's eyes, and when many other guys go directly for someone's boobs or ass, I check out their eyes. Not that I don't care about that other stuff, don't get me wrong! I just have a thing with eyes, that's all, they being 'the window to the soul' like they say. Also, his cheeks were nice and rounded (much like Jack's, and there was a twinge of sorrow again), and a well-defined but not overly prominent chin. Aroon's smile was small and neat, and was made all the better because he had quite luxurious lips for a guy, which I found enticing. I had often wondered how it would be to touch them, even kiss them. He kept his straight, shiny, black hair shorter than Jack had, but still parted it down the middle.

I would have liked to say it was a complete accident. I can't in all honesty do so however, it could have been my sub-conscious that made me take off my gloves and then sneakily steered my hand so it'd gently brush against his ungloved hand as we walked. It could also have been something quite deliberate; as I said, I'm not absolutely sure.

I touched his bare, almost golden honey-brown skin for just an instant, but it was enough to make all of me all tingly. He didn't seem to have noticed, probably thinking it was an accident. We continued walking. Our hands made contact again, longer this time and the contact made the hairs on my body rise up almost all at once. A deep shiver coursed through me, and then, right on top of that second time, we brushed again. This time I was almost certain it wasn't an accident, and neither was he I think. I didn't KNOW, but I felt like that was the case. Not wanting to wait any longer, I reached out just as he did, and our fingers intertwined. I held him for a few seconds, then turned and looked him...

...Straight into his dark almond eyes as he looked at me.

We stopped. Not knowing if it was the right thing to do or not, I reached out with my other hand and lightly touched his cheek, guiding him in closer to me. He was soft and warm to my touch despite the chilly air...

Our lips met just briefly, and yes, I'll be damned if I didn't feel that electric sparkle again. Not as strong with Aroon as with Jack perhaps, but still a healthy buzz. It was not love, I'm sure of that, not at that first kiss. It was physical attraction, and that really was something I needed as much right then as anything else.

Our next kiss was longer, more deliberate, not as quick and fumbling. I had to stretch up a little to reach him properly, and I put my hand on his slender neck for balance, feeling his thick, rich hair tickle the back of my fingers. He tasted so sweet after all those days of bleakness I had suffered through. I wanted more!

There suddenly was a firm hand cupping my ass, and not caring if anyone saw us, two guys making out in a winter-landscaped park, I kissed him again, this time with a fierceness I had not known for a long time. He responded to me, pressing his hips in close to me, and I'm not sure, but I might have felt his boner through our pants. I was rapidly getting very stiff myself.

Aroon's place was not far, I can only assume he'd been steering me in that direction in the odd hope of us connecting. He was still living with his folks in an apartment block, but they were at the restaurant working like always, as long as the place was open for business and for some time before and after too. They closed at eleven, I knew, so we would have plenty of time for ourselves.

We acted with a singular purpose, like machines. As soon as we were across the doorstep, we began shedding our layers of clothing on the floor. I wrenched my feet out of my boots without bothering to unlace them (something I rarely, if ever do), then moved with Aroon into his room as he dragged me along, us both still tugging and pulling stuff off.

Aroon's room was spartan almost in the extreme. He had a set of windows in the wall, right in front of the entrance, and below them was a double-bed mattress placed directly on the floor. He had a small, neat and tidy desk to the left of the bed, and a few wooden boxes on wheels standing off to the other side, each with a set of four drawers placed into their side.

I didn't look at much else than him, however. His skin was so beautiful, so rich in color and just adorable to the touch. He wasn't really boy-smooth like Jack had been, the texture was slicker somehow, more mature. But still, he had that gorgeous, hairless Asian complexion, and it almost literally made my blood boil. My hands explored his chest a little - he had firm, but not very prominent muscles; he probably did not work out, then I encircled his willowy neck to draw him in close to me when I saw hesitation in his eyes and stopped.

"Sorry Alex...", he said. "I-I've never done something like this before..."

I smiled, so in awe of the trust he was placing into my hands; his whole life as it seemed. It was the greatest of gifts he could have given me I think, and that must have been plain to see because I saw him relax too.

"Don't worry... I will be gentle", I told him softly.

I felt my hand across his tummy, and like Jack's, it was hard muscle beneath a thin layer of softness. We slowly and carefully embraced, being completely naked as we were, standing there on the floor in front of his bed, not doing anything too quick so Aroon wouldn't get scared. Yes, do I think it was the first time for him, and it was a totally different experience for him than it had been for me. I had been a horny bastard galloping ahead at full steam, Aroon wanted to be guided each step on the journey, and I took time and care to make sure it would be enjoyable for him.

Slowly I guided him down on the wide bed, us both sitting down facing each other, our legs folded in under us. He sat with his knees sticking out wide apart, his erect penis pointing away from his body in a 75-degree angle. I was bigger than him. My six plus fat inches compared to his five and a half slender inches. Another similarity that brought a pang of remembrance. I took my time as I let my hand approach his dick so he'd know in advance what would happen next. His eyes closed as my hand touched the sensitive organ, and when I gave it a light squeeze, Aroon tensed up, sucking in air through his teeth. I slowly began to rub his uncut dick with my hand, then speeded up when I felt he was fully accepting what I was doing. Aroon had goosebumps all over and was leaking clear pre-cum, my hand was starting to get rather slick as I changed my grip to rub the knob or gently cup and squeeze his ball bag. My other hand, I held on one of his firm thighs, my fingers spread wide to absorb as much as possible from touching him. Then and again, I'd caress the slenderly muscled limb.

He was starting to lose both his hesitation and all control of his body I saw. Aroon was breathing deeply, his eyes slick with moisture. His penis, while not the pulse-throbbing little miracle Jack had been, had a tendency to spasm a lot whenever it was stimulated. I thought he was going to cum on me several times, but that just seemed to be the way it normally behaved (under such unusual circumstances anyway), and I found it quite charming I must say. I quickly learned to read him, and as he was nearing the point of ejaculation, gasping and shaking, I took him down to Earth again.

Aroon was almost genuinely upset with me. "Oh God Alex, why did you stop?! That was just so good, I can never do it myself like...!" He seemed surprised with himself he'd revealed so much of his inner thoughts.

I grinned. "Because I'm an asshole, and I didn't want you to shoot so soon."

He grinned too. "Next time, you HAVE to make me come, you hear?"

"Don't worry, you'll come alright." I gave him a quite indecent look, and he started laughing. I took the opportunity to take him in my arms, to kiss those full lips of his, and put him down on the bed proper. Placing myself semi-on-top, my leg across his belly so it touched his stiff dick, we began kissing and exploring each other, enjoying each touch immensely.

Looking down at the blackened tree's roots, there was a tiny acorn sprouting there. It was so very small, almost unnoticeable. But in time, it would be able to grow big and strong.

Oh joy, I finally was a whole person again.


Author's Notes:

As I set out to write this story, I intended for it to more or less be a quick-and-dirty affair, two kids screwing around and not much more than that. However, as I progressed, chapter after chapter, I noticed the characters had taken on a life of their own so to speak, they broadened and deepened. From being a story mainly intended to be concerned about sex, it turned more into a story about friendship, relations and love that happened to have sex in it.

I also did not want to write a complicated story where people got angry at each other and had big falling-outs and things get really messy and complicated and stuff. I did not want a wussy story either, mind you, but one that was basically a positive one. Enough drama to make it interesting, but not so much as to make it depressing.

Later, thoughts of how such a story would progress after it ended, lead to it's eventual conclusion. I have always had the (perhaps ridiculous) notion that young love is the most noble, pure kind there is, and having experienced it is not something that should be 'tainted' by aging. Also, I wanted to let my main character grow even more as a person than I already had, and thus... Well, there it is. The end of the story.

We who get deeply involved in our writing care for the characters we create, they almost become our children. We feel their happiness and suffering as deeply as they do - maybe more so - and we wish for them to be safe and comfortable just like we wish that for ourselves. But this story could not have a truly happy ending, even though it meant making a hard choice during writing as the end was nearing. I knew it could not end with the three of them living together happily ever after, that's the stuff of fairy tales. The story required that sting of bitterness and vinegar for completeness' sake, and for my main character's too. He would not become a full individual without it. Like a red-hot blade pulled out of the forge, Alex needed tempering to gain true strength.

I hope you as a reader agrees this evolution process was for the better. I know I certainly think so! I also hope you enjoyed my work. Thank you so much for reading this far!


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