Stormy Weather

by Ivor Slipper

If anyone could see me now they'd think I was mad. They'd be right of course, but probably for the wrong reason. You see I don't think I'm crazy mad – well, maybe a bit, but I am angry mad. You can't actually see that I'm angry mad as that is hidden inside me. Not too deeply hidden I'll admit as it has burst to the surface on a few occasions over the last couple of days. Right now however, it is fairly well below the surface.

Let's face it though, you'd have to be mad to be sitting outside in a thunderstorm, on a table, wearing only a pair of gray briefs. So perhaps I am crazy mad? No, don't reckon so, as if I was crazy mad I'd be sitting here fully clothed. And I ain't crazy enough to get Grandpa riled up again, not so soon after Saturday night, or Sunday morning, to be precise. Hey, isn't that the title of some old film 'Saturday Night & Sunday Morning'? Well, I had one of those, but I doubt it was anything like the one in the film. Very probably that involved girls, or women. Mine didn't, well not much, at least as far as I remember!

So, I've felt like shit since then. Didn't even go to school on Monday and I never miss school. Ain't gone again today either. Grandpa don't know. He goes off to work early and I'm back from school before he returns, so there's no way he'd know. Of course with any other kid the school would call the parent to find out why the kid wasn't at school. But Grandpa, he ain't got a 'phone so it'll be a few days before the school find some other way to contact him. By then, hopefully, I'll have got over this and gone back to school. If so, he'll never know and that'll save me from a trip to the woodshed!

It feels like I've been sat here for ages. Can't tell how long as I'm not wearing a watch. Fortunately the rain is warm, so there's no fear of me 'catching my death' as my mom used to say. Oops, had a little gulp there thinking about her. She's been dead about three years now, the cancer took her. That was when I moved in with Grandpa because he's my only living relative. Guessed it would be better living with him than in a home, or with a foster parent - not that many foster parents want kids who are soon to become teenagers. Used to think about mom a lot, but not so much these days. Guess that's only natural, but when I do these days I usually feel guilty 'cos I'm not thinking of her so often.

Anyway, it has helped sitting here even if I do end up looking like a prune with wrinkled skin. Doesn't it say something in the bible about washing your sins away?

Reckon though it'd probably need more than a thunderstorm to wash mine away and the bible sure wouldn't approve of most of mine.

Think I'll stay here a bit longer. Grandpa won't be home for a while yet, so I've plenty of time to dry off and get a meal ready for us. Most of the time I've been sat here on my butt with my legs pulled up so my feet are on the front of the table. My arms are wrapped round my legs and my chin's sort of resting on my knees. I've mainly been daydreaming, either with my eyes closed or just staring into space. Some of the time though my thoughts go back to Saturday night and that's when I come to with a start, like I just did.

I thought I sensed a movement off to the right where the house is, but that can't be as there's nobody else here. And yet, yes there is. The door's opened and someone is standing there. Bit hard to make out who it is through all this rain, but then it dawns on me that it's Ethan. He used to be my best friend until a few weeks ago; indeed he was virtually my only friend. But then I sort of dumped him for Mike and that was what eventually led to me sitting here now.

Why's he here though? We've hardly spoken of late. And now what's he doing? I'm watching as he takes off his hoodie and then his t-shirt. He kicks off his sneakers and pulls off his socks. Then he unbuckles his belt, unzips the fly of his jeans, pushes them down his legs and steps out of them. Now he's wearing just a pair of briefs, like me, only his are black. He turns slightly sideways and I can see his package framed in them. Despite everything I can feel myself stir. 'If only', I say to myself, but I blew all that.

He steps out of the door and walks slowly across the grass to stand by the side of the table. Part of me wants to jump off the table and grab him, but I can't do that. I can't even really look at him.

"What the fuck are you doing Josh, sat out here in this thunderstorm wearing just your briefs?" he asks.

Despite everything I can't help the small chuckle that escapes my lips.

"And what the fuck are you doing standing there in the same thunderstorm, also just in your briefs?" I respond.

He laughs; I laugh. The tension that was there as he walked toward me has gone.

"Room for one more on the table?" he asks.

"Why not?" I say. If it breaks, so be it. It'll only mean another visit to the woodshed – and not to repair it!

"Move over then," he says.

I scoot sideways along the table and wince slightly as I do so. Hopefully he didn't notice. Ethan clambers onto the table and arranges himself in an identical posture to me, so we are sitting beside each other, but with a few inches between us.

"Are you in pain?" he asks, placing his right hand on my left forearm as he does. The touch is gentle, his voice concerned. "Has your grandfather...?"

I cut him off before he can finish the question. "No, it's nothing like that."

"So why weren't you at school for the last two days? I thought you must be ill, so decided to cycle over after school finished today."

"You must be mad cycling over in this all this rain."

"I'd already got soaked cycling home from school, so coming on here didn't make any real difference. Anyway, you're the one who must be mad just sitting out here with nothing on when you don't need to."

"I have got something on and wearing just my briefs makes more sense than sitting here fully clothed."

Ethan laughs. I love the sound of his laugh, it's so genuine and makes his face even more attractive. I've missed hearing his laugh and seeing his face, come to that.

"I'll give you that," he responds, "but you haven't told me why you're sitting here?"

And that is the big question. It demands a big answer. But am I ready to tell him? More than that, if I do answer, should I tell him the truth, or make something up? I suppose I could tell him some of the truth, but I doubt that would satisfy him and he'd want to know more. I sit there trying to decide. Time seems to stand still while the rain continues to pour down. Ethan sits patiently alongside me. His hand, which was just resting on my forearm now starts to slowly and gently stroke up and down. I can feel a tingle in a certain area.

Just then there is a flash of lightning and a huge rumble of thunder almost directly overhead.

"We can't stay here!" I exclaim.

I push myself off the table and run toward the house. Ethan is right behind me. As we get to the door there is another flash of lightning, incredibly close. I glance over my shoulder and see it has struck the top of the metal clothes pole. Little bits of fire are dancing around it. Ethan stumbles and cannons into me. Has he been hit? That would be simply too much to bear. I pull the door open and stumble into the house. I can sense that he is right behind me.

"Are you alright?" I ask.

"That was too close for comfort," he replies. "I'm sure I can feel static on my body."

I turn and look at him. His hair does appear to be standing on end, but otherwise he looks normal – thank goodness.

I take a step forward and wrap my arms around him, pulling him into a hug. His arms go round me and we stand there each hugging the other's soaking wet body while the water drips off us and begins to pool on the linoleum.

We are both quite thin, neither of us being sporty types, but Josh is about three inches taller than me. Thus, my head sort of nestles into his shoulder.

"For a moment I thought I'd lost you there," I mumble.

"I did lose you," he mumbles back.

I take a second or two to absorb and understand what he said. I pull away slightly and look into his dark brown eyes – or at least as much of them as I can see because his hair is no longer standing on end but is now plastered down on his forehead and partially hiding his eyes. But, I'm almost certain I can see a tear running down his cheek, or is it just a raindrop?

"What do you mean 'you lost me'?"

"You just cut me out of your life about two months ago. I thought we were best friends and then 'poof' you were gone."

It was true, I had cut him out. I thought I'd burned my boats, or bridges, or whatever the saying is. But, now he's here and we've just hugged. He shivers and I can see goosebumps on his arms. I realise we need to get dry. Telling him to stay there I go and fetch a couple of towels so we can dry ourselves, which we proceed to do individually. We're close now, but not touching, allowing room for towelling.

Ethan starts to lower his briefs. We've seen each other naked before, but I can't help looking at what is revealed as he pushes them down his legs and then stands before me in all his glory. He's uncut and there's nothing much to see right now what with all that rain, but even so it stirs me. I start to follow his lead and then hesitate, but I have to carry on and push my briefs down my legs and step out of them. As I stand back up, he's looking.

"Shite, Josh! What have you done?"

He's looking at my dick, or for the question, specifically the area just above it which has been shaved to leave just a hardly noticeable stubble starting to grow back.

"It's a long story, or at least part of a long story." I could feel tears beginning to form in my eyes.

He stepped forward and hugged me again. It felt so good to be in his arms, but I knew I didn't deserve it.

"Then I want to hear it – all of it."

By now we were both shivering, even though we were dry.

"Shall we go to my room? It'll be more comfortable sitting down rather than standing here – and it is a long story."

"It'll be even more comfortable and a lot warmer if we both get in your bed."

He grinned as he said those words. I reached out, took his hand and led him to my bedroom He didn't resist. Maybe things would be alright I told myself as we entered the room, but I knew I shouldn't raise my hopes.

"It will be both, but are you sure?" I ask as I push the door to behind us.

"I'm sure, but what about you? When does your grandfather get back?"

As he finishes the question I feel another twitch. This one though is in my butt rather than my dick.

"We've got a good hour or so before he'll return. Anyway, we'll hear his truck and that'll give us time to get some clothes on."

He smiled, "Better safe than sorry, eh?" I felt that twitch again, just a little stronger. I had a good idea of what grandfather's reaction would be if he found me in bed with Ethan.

My room was sparse with just a single bed, a chest of drawers and an old wooden wardrobe. A rug was by the bed, the rest of the floor was covered in linoleum. I led him to the bed and pulled back the comforter. I slid in first and moved over next to the wall; he slid in beside me.

"Roll on your side," he said. I turned to face the wall.

"Not really what I meant," said a voice in my ear, "but it'll do for a start."

It would have to do for more than a start I said to myself. There was no way I could face him while telling him. He must have turned onto his side as I felt him snuggling behind me. To feel his still damp body next to mine was amazing and it produced the inevitable reaction. One that was intensified as his right arm came across my chest and pulled us really tight. His fingers wandered down below my belly button. "Mmm... that feels nice." he said as they stroked across the shaved area. It did indeed feel nice, very nice and I could feel my dick rising.

"Okay," he said. "We're both comfortable now and I could easily go to sleep holding you like this, but you have a story to tell. So start!"

Yes, I had a story to tell, but it was one of abandonment and betrayal. He'd been my best, virtually my only, friend, for years but then I dumped him. Left him to the wolves. He knew that of course, but here he was again having come over because he was worried about me. I truly didn't deserve him.

We were a pair of geeks, or nerds, interested in books and learning. We had no real interest in sports or games, unless you count something like table tennis! He had a table at his house and I loved going over there to play. I'd be there often while mom was alive, but since then grandfather would only let me visit for a sleepover once a month.

Almost inevitably we were picked on at school by the jocks. The schools supposedly had 'no bullying' policies and those worked fairly well in junior and middle school. In high school though it was a different matter. Bullying wasn't exactly encouraged, but neither was it clamped down on. It seemed the football jocks in particular had almost had a free hand to do as they wanted, just so long as they left no physical evidence. So for the last couple of years we'd been subjected to name calling, being tripped up, which was especially fun when carrying our lunch trays, pushed into lockers. All the usual things, although they didn't go as far as demanding money. At least as we hung together all the time we could support each other which helped us manage to survive their taunts.

Then Ethan caught chickenpox from his younger sister. Luckily I'd had it when I was younger so I wasn't going to catch it, although it might have been better had that not been the case. As it was he was going to be off school for at least a couple of weeks, which left me to survive on my own.

Grandfather's place was outside the town itself and about two miles from the school. It was almost half a mile down an unmade track and from where that met the road it was another quarter mile to the nearest few houses, which was as far as the school bus came. Consequently, I always cycled to school and I would call at Ethan's house on the way and he'd cycle the rest of the way with me. That was when I found out from his mom on the Monday morning that he'd caught chickenpox.

My spirits sank at the news. Now I'd be on my own and I was sure the bullying would get worse as a result. I sat on my own at lunch in the cafeteria and kept sneaking glances at the table where the trio who were the major source of problems for us were sat. Jordan Higginson, Brett Seymour and Tyler Levinski, or the three mousehunters as we called them. I noticed them looking at me and then smiling and laughing to each other. I was sure something was going to happen when they got up to leave their table. I could see the remains of one of their sodas giving me a quick shampoo, or my head being banged by an elbow or two as they walked past where I was, but nothing happened.

Indeed I got through the day without any problems. I was happy and looking forward to getting home and starting on my homework. I walked to the bike shed and that was when my mood changed completely. The front wheel of my bike was now bent and distorted to a degree that would mean not only couldn't I cycle home, I'd also have to push the bike on just its rear wheel. Looking at the damage I also thought it wasn't repairable, but would need a new wheel. Grandfather wasn't going to be happy about that and furthermore I felt sure it would be the weekend before he'd do anything about buying a new one. That meant I'd be walking to and from school for the rest of the week.

I'd just unlocked the bike and got it on its rear wheel, when I heard a voice behind me. One I recognised as belonging to Brett Seymour. He was a linebacker, over six foot tall, well-muscled and with dark hair that was in a crew cut.

"Hey, looks like you got a problem there, Morgan."

"Yeah, some fucker's done my wheel in."

"Whoa, didn't think you swore pretty boy."

That was one of the mild insults they threw our way.

"Don't usually." I grunted.

"Don't you live way out in the country?" I nodded. "That's a long way to push a bike."

"I know, so I'd better get started," I replied as I went to push the bike.

"Hold on, pretty boy." He put a big hand on my shoulder. "How's about I give you a lift home. My truck's here and we can toss your bike in the back."

He was the oldest of the trio who were a year above us anyway, so he had wheels, four that is as opposed to my two – or currently one! I was though, immediately suspicious. Why was he being nice and offering to help me? It didn't feel right, so I asked him that very question. In reply he said he wasn't as bad as I evidently thought he was and maybe I should lighten up.

Faced with that walk it seemed dumb to tell him to go screw, so I pushed the bike to where his truck was; we loaded it in the back and he drove me home. I was even more staggered when he said he'd pick me up in the morning 'cos he'd realised how far I'd have to walk. It all seemed too good to be true, but next morning there he was and he ferried me to and from school for the rest of the week. What was more, he even invited me to sit with him and his pals at lunch. It felt good, I wasn't being bullied and I'd been accepted by the jocks. Because he and his pals had me in their group, nobody else would dare give me trouble. To crown it all he even came out on Saturday morning to collect me and take me into town to buy a new front wheel. When we got back, he helped me fit it. What's more, grandfather was impressed with the new friend I'd made.

He surprised me even more by saying that although my bike was now fixed he'd be happy to continue driving me to and from school. It wasn't a hard decision to make. I'd gone up in the world and was enjoying my new status. Toward the end of that week Ethan came back to school, his quarantine having been declared complete. I was pleased to see him, but it gave me a problem. At lunch that day I asked Brett if he could join us, but was told not only that he couldn't, but if I wanted to stay there I needed to cut him adrift. I hate to say that was what I did, to the extent that I even stopped sitting with him in the classes we shared. In just a couple of weeks I'd given up a friendship that had lasted for years. Ethan was now on his own to contend with the jibes and bullying while I stood by and watched, lifting not a finger to help him or say a word to try and stop it.

During the next week Brett told me that there would be a party on the Saturday night and I was invited. At first I was going to tell him I couldn't come knowing how reluctant grandfather was to let me go anywhere. Indeed I told Brett that and he just winked at me and said he'd sort it. He did just that and when he dropped me home on the Friday, grandfather told me he was willing to let me go and have a sleepover at Brett's on the following night.

Brett came and collected me. As I'd never been to his house I'm not sure if that was actually where the party was taking place, but it was crowded with a lot of the jocks and their girls – mainly cheerleaders, naturally. I'd never really been to a party either, apart from kids' birthday parties when I was a lot younger, so had no real idea at what went on at one. Everyone looked to be having a good time and Brett introduced me to a couple of the girls. Music was playing and I was quite easily persuaded to dance with them. Time seemed to pass quite slowly, but after a while I began to feel a bit light headed. Maybe some of them were smoking weed. For sure some of the jocks were getting a bit drunk. I made sure that wasn't going to happen to me and stuck to just drinking coke. Eventually my bladder told me I needed to go to the john, so having found out from Brett that it was upstairs I made my way there. I definitely had to hold onto the rail going up and did trip over the top step.

Next thing I remember is waking up and finding myself lying face down on a bed. I turned my head to the side and saw it was daylight coming through the window. That seemed strange. Then I realized that I felt cold. I rolled over onto my back, which hurt, at which point I could see my polo shirt had been pulled halfway up my chest while my jeans and briefs were down by my ankles. I'd no idea how I'd got onto this bed or how long I'd been there. My head hurt and I felt sick. I decided to get to the bathroom before I threw up over the bed, but when I went to sit up I had this horrible pain in my ass. It felt extremely odd there, something didn't seem right. I put my hand down there and it felt sticky. I went to move again, but moving was very painful. I shifted position on the bed so I could see where I'd been lying, which was when I saw spots of blood on the sheet. It only took a moment for me to know what had happened to me.

The sick feeling intensified and I threw up over the bed, before lying back down on my side with my head in my hands and crying. I've no idea how long I stayed like that, but I knew I had to get up and managed to get on my feet. As I went to pull up my briefs and jeans sufficiently to enable me to stagger to the bathroom, that was when I noticed I'd been shaved. All of my pubic hair had gone; instead that area was now covered in red lipstick kisses. When I got to the bathroom I was sick again, but at least there was some water to freshen up and also to try and clean up my ass. Doing so hurt like hell, but I knew I couldn't stay here. The house was now deathly quiet so I suspected that it had been empty all along, in which case it was surprising the cops hadn't turned up last night. Or maybe it was the home of one of the party goers whose parents had been away for the weekend. Either way I didn't want to be discovered there. That would lead to questions and the answers would only lead me back to grandfather and that would lead to something I couldn't face.

Finally, painfully, I managed to get dressed and left the house. Our town sort of sits in a valley and after walking a short distance I knew where I was. Not exactly near home, but not that far away either. Luckily I still had my wallet so I was able to catch a bus part way there. Even so walking the last mile, especially up the uneven track, was agony. Fortunately when I got here grandfather was out, I suspected he'd gone hunting. I was just glad he wasn't there as it saved me facing any awkward questions about why Brett hadn't brought me home. It also gave me the chance to run a bath and clean myself up as well as burning the briefs I'd been wearing.

Ethan had lain there just holding me while I made my confession. I had no expectation of being forgiven for my sins. Now he moved. I was expecting him to climb out of bed, tell me exactly what he thought of me and then get dressed and go home. Instead he rolled me towards him so we were face to face – and then he kissed me! It was only a brush of his lips on mine, but it spoke volumes seeing that we'd never kissed before.

"I'm glad you decided to tell me the whole story of the last few weeks," he whispered.

"Aren't you disgusted with me, for how I ditched you? Not to mention what I allowed Brett, or someone, or even more than one someone, to do to me?"

Ethan placed a finger on my lips. "I knew what had happened, that's why I came."

I was staggered. My mind couldn't take that in. "You knew? How come you knew?"

"Well, I didn't absolutely one hundred per cent know, but I was very sure. There's been talk going round the school ever since Monday morning. Finally this afternoon I chanced to overhear a conversation between a couple of the jocks. They were laughing and joking about a polaroid picture they'd seen of your butt," - he hesitated for a few seconds - "and other things. It seems there had been a bet made that Brett wouldn't be able to screw you before the end of the semester. The picture was the proof that he had and he was going to be collecting a lot of money."

Even before he'd finished that I'd started to cry. Now the tears were running down my cheeks. I'd been tricked and humiliated, for a bet! At that moment I felt my life was over. I just wanted to curl up and die. Why hadn't that lightning bolt struck me, I asked myself. That would have solved my problems.

"Josh, you can't let him, let them, win. You have to come back to school tomorrow. I'll be right beside you. Hold your head high and stare the fuckers down."

"I...don't think I can. And why would you want to be with me after all this?"

"Because you're my friend and that's what friends do for one another."

I sighed. "I know you're my friend, but I don't deserve you."

Suddenly he rolled me onto my back, straddled me, lowered his head toward mine and looked me right in the eyes. It had hurt when he rolled me over, but after almost three days the pain in my butt had declined. It had only been really painful today when I'd had a shit in the morning; since then mainly just a dull ache, which was why I'd been able to sit on the table earlier.

His head inched slowly down until our lips touched. His tongue came out and ran along my lips. I opened my mouth intending to say something, but his tongue came inside and suddenly we were kissing for real. After what seemed an eternity, but couldn't have been even a minute, he pulled away.

"I think I may be in love with you, Josh."

All sorts of thoughts raced through my mind. I was amazed, bewildered, almost struck dumb.

"But why? After what I've done to you? After what Brett did to me?" I finally managed to ask.

"I think I've probably loved you for years, but didn't really understand the feelings. When you cut me off and started hanging out with Brett and the others, I felt part of me was missing. I longed to get it back, but didn't know how. Now I've been given a chance. And what they did doesn't make me feel any differently about you."

I started to cry again. He lent forward and did his best to wipe the tears away.

As I lay there peering through my teary eyes into his bright ones, I knew I'd been given a chance. One that I didn't deserve, but a chance all the same.

"You realize I'm damaged goods?"

Ethan looked stunned for a moment before he almost shouted at me, "I don't give a fuck about that!"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth a horrified look crossed his face. It just struck me as funny and I started laughing. Within a couple of seconds he joined in before collapsing on top of me.

That was when we heard grandfather's truck, which necessitated a rapid scramble to get out of bed and dressed before he came into the house. We made it with a few seconds to spare. He looked surprised when he saw Ethan sitting opposite me at the kitchen table, but just muttered something and went off to his room. Ethan seized the opportunity to depart, but not before we'd exchanged a kiss. We also agreed that I would go to school tomorrow even if it meant riding my bike standing on the pedals.

Grandfather retuned a few minutes afterwards. "Thought we'd seen the last of him and that you'd finally found yourself a decent friend."

If only you knew, I thought. "Ethan and I just had a little disagreement, but it's all sorted now. And as for Brett, I think he decided I'm a bit of an asshole."

"Watch your language boy," he growled menacingly. "That's a shame. There was something about him I liked. Thought he might be able to toughen you up a bit, unlike that one."

I'd always suspected he didn't like Ethan, although he'd never said so. It wasn't really surprising seeing he'd never liked me that much and Ethan was a lot like me.

Next morning I had breakfast and got ready for school as usual. I rode my bike standing on the pedals as far as Ethan's house and then sat in the saddle for the rest of the ride into school. He grinned and nodded approvingly as we set off from his house, having watched me ride in standing.

"How're you feeling?" he asked.

"It's not too bad, but I'm not gonna let anyone know there's anything wrong."

We exchanged a high five, never the easiest thing to do on a bike, but we made it. When we arrived at the school I could sense other kids looking at me, some whispering comments to one another, one or two pointing me out to their friends. I did my best to look and act normal. It wasn't too bad until we walked into our home-room. We normally arrived early, but today we were on the late side so the room was nearly full.

"Here comes the film star!" Jordan Higginson said in a loud voice. "How about a round of applause for him?"

That was greeted with some applause and a lot of laughter.

"Yeah, when's your next performance, Morgan?" That was Tyler Levinski, and his comment inevitably drew more cheers and laughs.

I almost broke and ran, but Ethan was right behind me with his hand on my back. "There aren't going to be any repeat performances," said Ethan over my shoulder.

That seemed to take them by surprise and shortly after the teacher came in to take the roll, which stopped any further comments. Naturally, comments continued to be made during the day, particularly at lunch and in the corridors, but it was generally bearable. Plus, hearing the same thing for the fourth or fifth time has much less effect than when you hear it for the first. A good majority of the school probably knew what had happened to me. I couldn't change that, but I hoped a lot might realize that I'd not been a willing participant.

There was now a definite change in my relationship with Ethan. Until now we had been friends, graduating to best friends and sometimes over the last year or so, friends with benefits when I had a sleepover at his house. Now though, he started to come home with me two or three times a week. Nearly always, and very soon after we arrived, we were stripped and cuddling in bed together. Most of our time there was spent kissing and cuddling, simply enjoying the feel of another body, letting our hands explore and discover which touches gave each of us the most pleasure. Of course we jerked each other off, but that was rarely the sole or even the first thing we did. Just being together in what seemed like our own private world, away from the bullies and the name calling, was a joy in itself.

My sixteenth birthday was approaching. My actual birthday was during the week, but it so happened that the following weekend was one on which I'd be allowed to have a sleepover at Ethan's. I didn't expect much in the way of celebrations at home, but the thought of being able to actually sleep with Ethan without worrying about being discovered by my grandfather made for more pleasure in being together. However, on my actual birthday Ethan told me that he'd decided to tell his parents about us.

Immediately he said that I was terrified of what the consequences might be.

"Why do you want to do that? They might throw you out, or at least they might stop you seeing me?"

"Josh, it'll be alright. They've known for at least the last year that I'm gay and they don't have a problem with it. Have you noticed any difference in the way they've treated you during that time?"

I hadn't. Indeed, thinking about it after he left I could see that if anything they'd been even nicer to me than in the past. Even so, it seemed that them knowing he was gay was one thing, telling them I was his boyfriend was another, especially as we shared his bed. Still, it seemed I had little option but to go along with his plans.

His mom cooked a nice dinner for us – chicken fried steak with gravy, mashed potatoes and green beans. That was followed, after a little interval, by a birthday cake. Actually, a red velvet cake complete with sixteen candles. I was overwhelmed by that because grandfather hadn't even appeared to notice it had been my birthday! Then, to top it all, they gave me some presents. They were all clothes, a pair of jeans, a couple of t-shirts and a sweatshirt, but all much appreciated. Finally, after I'd opened all of those, Ethan slipped a small package onto the table in front of me. I unwrapped it to reveal a plain cardboard box. I opened the lid of that and removed from it a pair of black briefs that were evidently cut much smaller than the ones I usually wore as well as being of a much finer quality. I looked at him in amazement and then glanced at his parents who both seemed to be trying not to grin – at least I hoped they were grins not grimaces.

"Well, aren't I allowed to buy underwear for my boyfriend?" he said, looking at his parents rather than me.

What a way to tell them I thought as I sat there waiting for their reaction. The immediate one was that their grins grew bigger before his father spoke,

"It's taken you long enough to tell us, son."

"We're glad you have though, but I hope you asked Josh for permission first," added his mother.

"He did," I managed to say, "but I was very worried about how you'd react."

"Why Josh?" asked his mom. "You're a great kid, considering what's happened to you along the way. I couldn't think of a better boyfriend for our Ethan."

When we got up to Ethan's bedroom later we agreed that his announcement couldn't have gone better and that I'd been worried about nothing. We finished the day watching a horror movie he had on video while lying cuddled together under his comforter wearing just our briefs.

After the movie had finished he insisted on me modelling the new briefs. Once I'd got them on and given him a couple of twirls he got up from where he'd been lying on the bed and walked over to where I was standing. He proceeded to take great delight in running his hands all over the back of them, as well as the bits of my butt that they didn't really cover. It was when he turned to running his hand over the front that problems truly arose! I urged him to stop before they got stained.

He'd had his head on my shoulder while he was rubbing the front. "Alright I'll stop,"

he said, taking his hand away and moving moving to stand in front of me. He looked down into my eyes, "Happy Birthday, Josh."

He dropped to his knees in front of me and put his hands at the sides of the briefs, which he then pulled down, allowing my fully erect dick to spring free. After that he proceeded to give me the most marvellous birthday present I'd ever had, which later I realised was going to almost certainly be one of the most marvellous ones I'd ever have.

I had no idea where, or how, he had learned how to do it, but it was simply an amazing experience. Pleasures and sensations I'd never imagined possible. He had to hold me as I came to a shuddering climax and indeed until I'd come down from my high. Once he decided I was capable of standing by myself he stood up, smiled at me and simply said "I love you, Josh."

There was only one thing I could do, which was to kneel in front of him, pull down his briefs and try to give him the same sort of pleasure as I'd just had. At least I now had some idea of what to do and although I had no clue as to how good, or bad, I was, I could at least tell from the little noises he made that he was enjoying it.

After that we climbed into bed, hugged each other tight and went to sleep. I don't think we moved during the night and it was only his mother knocking on the bedroom door next morning that woke us.

I learned a valuable lesson that night – it was as good to give as it was to receive.

The problems at school never went completely away. We could still expect to be called names, tripped up in the corridors, or slammed against the lockers, but they did seem to decline. Maybe the bullies got bored with doing and saying the same old things.

Ethan continued to come to my house after school on at least a couple of days a week. We now had even more reason to share my bed for that short hour or two. Our ability to pleasure each other increased until one afternoon when Ethan showed me how it was possible for us to pleasure each other at the same time! There was definitely something extra special in doing that.

Sometimes though we just lay there and talked. Ethan would be going to college in due course. He had hopes of getting a scholarship and his parents had built up a fund to enable him to do so. I was probably bright enough, but as far as I knew there was no college fund for me. Mom had struggled to bring in enough money to keep us, sometimes doing two jobs, so I was sure she'd not been able to put any money aside for such a purpose. Even if she had I was confident grandfather would have spent it all by now. Thus I was going to have to get a job as soon as I left school.

We were also concerned about the sort of future we might have in this town. It wasn't exactly liberal in outlook or politics. Perhaps if Josh could get into a college in a city elsewhere in the state, I could move and get a job there? Failing that we'd have to settle for seeing each other whenever and wherever we could.

It was a couple of months later. Ethan had come over after school and we were in bed together when the rain started. It was a similar sort of storm to the one during which he'd come over and found me sitting on the table. We were enjoying a leisurely 'sixty nine' when my bedroom door burst open.

"What sort of disgusting degenerate depravity is going on here?" yelled grandfather as he strode into the room and glared down at us. He was red in the face, the veins standing out on his forehead and I could see spittle on his lips. The sound of the rain and hail on the tin roof must have prevented us hearing his truck arrive.

"You," he shouted, pointing at Ethan, "get your clothes and go...now! And don't ever come back."

"You," he thundered, now pointing at me, "don't bother to get dressed. Just go to the barn. I'm going to beat this disease out of you, you perverted faggot."

Ethan got out of bed and stood up.

"Be quick about it, unless you want to join him," grandfather growled at him.

"Josh, get up and get your clothes. I'm going and you're coming with me."

"He's doing no such thing. He's staying here."

Grandfather stepped forward and put out an arm, evidently intending to push Ethan aside.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you, Mr Morgan."

Grandfather hesitated. "What do you mean, pervert?"

"I'm a black belt in both judo and karate, Mr. Morgan. Touch me, or try to stop Josh leaving with me, and you'll regret it."

By now I was sitting on the edge of the bed. I watched as grandfather and Ethan stared at each other. The stares and the silence seemed to last forever, but it was grandfather who broke.

"Take him if you want him. He's worthless anyway. But don't ever try coming back here, Joshua. You're just vermin and you know what I do to them!"

I did. I'd seen him shooting rats and raccoons around the place, so quickly gathered up my clothes and we went into the kitchen where we pulled on our briefs and sneakers.

"What happens now?" I asked, looking at Ethan.

"Go and get your bike. You're coming home with me."

"And then what?"

"You're sixteen now, so you don't have to live with him any longer. I'm sure my folks will have no objections to you living with us."

I started toward the shed where my bike was and then turned back to Ethan as a thought struck me.

"I didn't know you were a black belt in judo or karate, let alone any sort of belt?"

He let out a small laugh, "I'm not, but I've always figured your grandfather for a coward. Luckily, I was right."

I carried on to the shed, chuckling to myself at Ethan's audacity. I got my bike out and side by side we pedalled down the track. About a hundred yards down we came across grandfather's truck. Maybe it had broken down. Or maybe he'd somehow got suspicious about the number of times he'd come home over the past few months to find Ethan there and put that together with me being a lot happier of late. I didn't know or really care whichever it was.

What I did know was that I felt free and happy, riding my bike next to Ethan, getting soaking wet, with both of us wearing only our briefs and the rest of our clothes bundled under our arms.

Is it any surprise that I still like stormy weather, even to this day?

Iomfats.org

Stormy Weather

by Ivor Slipper

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