Neil And Rich
by The Eggman
Chapter 3
Sleeping on the floor of my bedroom with Rich's head on my arm, I heard my mom holler up the stairs, "Boys, it's ten o'clock. Breakfast is on the table."
Rich flew off me, as did the blanket covering us. The surprised expression on his face set me off, creating the first cartoon image of the day in my mind. I couldn't help sniggering a little. Recognizing his surroundings, Rich started scurrying around, searching for his clothes again. Sitting up and wiping the sleep from my eyes, I then crawled towards him and held his legs firmly in place.
"Lemme go you big nut-case," Rich softly hissed, "we're gonna get caught!"
Looking up into his worried eyes, I said, "Just slow down and take it easy. It's too early to be freakin' out," then crawled up his body and stood looking down at him. I softly reminded, "We're not going to get caught. My mom is downstairs, not standing at the bedroom door."
Rich sighed then said, "I'm sorry. It must seem weird, the way I act sometimes."
"I understand, pal," I said, and then picked up his boxers and my briefs off the floor. Handing him his underwear, I smiled and said, "They go on one leg at a time, don't jump into them."
Scowling, Rich said, "Very funny," then he looked down at my deflating morning wood and said, "Point that thing away, before it goes off again." I blushed and turned sideways, pulling up my briefs. As we started to dress, Rich asked, "Ya wanna go to the arcade for a while today?"
"That sounds good to me." I excitedly replied. It was so good to know he was still the same guy, wanting to go out and do things we've always done and not stay in the house all day.
We went downstairs and joined my family at the table. My sister and her creepy friend ate and whispered. I stared at them for a while, wondering what they were whispering about. My sister threw me an evil glance then went right on whispering. Then, while we ate, I caught my dad staring at me. I became paranoid.
What was it that he would say? Say it already! I silently screamed at myself for him to say something. He heard us fooling around last night; I just knew it! That's not how I wanted him to find out. He would be disappointed, I was sure, but he wouldn't disown me. Across the table, he started grinning at me as I finished my cereal.
"Neil?" he finally said.
I looked up at him with questioning eyes and a mouth full of food.
My dad said, "This weekend son, please."
"What?" I asked softly, dreading the answer. I looked nervously at Rich, but he didn't even seem to notice.
"Shave please," my dad said. "I'm just not ready to see a mustache on my fourteen-year-old son." I grinned and blushed a little. "Promise me you'll shave before school on Monday?" he asked.
"Sure dad, I swear I will," I answered, probably sounding more relieved than was necessary.
He looked at me suspiciously and laughed out loud. He had wanted me to shave for a while. The first time, just a few weeks earlier, I could only bring myself to shave my chin and around my jaw. The few hairs under my bottom lip were long and looked ridiculous anyway. As much as he didn't want me to have a mustache, I didn't want to be the first kid in my class to run a razor over his face. My dad grinned and said, "Sunday night you will be smooth, or I'll shave you myself!"
Rich smiled widely at me, leaking milk out of the corner of his mouth. Realizing what the leakage looked like, my eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets! I handed him a napkin then stood to put my bowl and glass in the sink before anything else happened that would freak me out! When Rich finished eating, I told my folks that we were heading to the arcade after we showered.
My mom sweetly reminded, "Take the garbage out when you leave please."
Heading upstairs again, Rich asked, "Bikes or skateboards?"
I suggested, "How about we walk?"
"It'll take a good twenty minutes to get there," Rich thought aloud.
I grinned, "Got a hot date to run to?"
Wide-eyed and smiling, Rich pushed me into my room. "You better go first. Make it a really cold shower, you obviously need it," he teased.
Gathering clean underwear, socks and shorts, I then went to the bathroom. As I was brushing my teeth, I briefly considered shaving my mustache, but decided to put that off for Sunday night, when I absolutely had to. I took off my T-shirt then lowered my shorts and boxers. Looking at myself in the mirror, I wondered why and how Rich could find me attractive. My upper body was flat as a board. I think my chest was the same size as my waist. I got the 'giraffe neck' gene too. Thank goodness my dick looked okay and worked okay, it might be my only redeemable quality!
Standing in the shower, I spent too much time thinking of Rich. You would think that I would've been more excited and soaped my cock to a dizzying climax. But the situation with Rich's family was going to be a major factor in our new relationship. I didn't have any idea how to deal with them so Rich could be happier. Telling my parents I was bisexual seemed to be the only way we could have a safe refuge, like the web sites mentioned. Before that could happen, I had to get Rich feeling better, more comfortable and ready to come out to my folks.
Finished in the bathroom, I returned to my room and Rich silently went across the hall. Everything I learned about sex I thought of while he was gone. My parents were really pretty cool. I remembered when Rich and I sneaked a few of his dad's cigarettes. We didn't think he would notice, but he did. Rich was grounded for a week. My parents talked to me about it. Neither of them smokes, but they said that they did when they were younger. My dad asked if I liked the taste and I said, "Yeah, I guess."
At that point I was sent to my room. About half an hour later, my dad returned with a pack of Pall Mall cigarettes and a large ashtray. "I want you to get the full taste of it," my dad said. "Go ahead and smoke one," he then suggested.
Not knowing any better, I opened the pack and tapped out one. It didn't have a filter! I lit the cigarette, let the smoke fill my mouth then blew it out.
"That's not how to smoke," my dad criticized. "Inhale it, all the way down into your lungs," he instructed. I did as I was told. The room spun. My head ached and stomach turned. I think I took two or three more drags before I ran from the room and threw up. When I returned to my room, feeling like warmed over shit, he told me what had happened and why I vomited then forced me to light another. I lit it but didn't inhale. He reminded me to inhale. I started crying because I didn't want to puke again. He told me I was off the hook, only if I never smoke another cigarette as long as I lived. I happily snuffed out the smoke. My dad opened the window for me while I lay on the bed wishing the world would stop turning so fast!
Needless to say, when Rich and I met at school the next day, I told him what had happened, that he would never get me to smoke again, and that he wouldn't ever smoke again either, if he wanted me around.
Then there's the way my folks talk during the late news, when they think I'm asleep. There's such sadness in their voices. Not too long ago, during the Christmas holidays, I went to their room because I heard my mom crying during the night. My dad was holding her close, reassuring her. When I asked if anything was wrong, my mom cried out, "Only with stupid people doing stupid things, like tossing babies into dumpsters!"
I was certain that I could tell my folks exactly what my sexuality was. Now all I had to do was convince Rich it would be cool. From a safe two-year distance, I drew cartoons of myself smoking, turning greener by the puff and then hurling. Rich returned from the bathroom, peeked over my shoulder and began giggling, "I remember that!"
I nodded, "I can safely say that I'll never smoke again."
As soon as I put my pencils down, Rich slithered onto my lap. "I probably won't either," he softly said. Shirtless and freshly showered, I could feel his warmth against me. He then began gently tracing the outline of my neck and jaw line with his finger. My own fingers traced the outline of his chest. How many times I had stared at his chest, but quickly turned away. Now I could look and touch without any fear. He moved down my neck to my shoulder and arm. I moved down, caressing his ribs and belly. It seemed we both realized what we were doing at the same instant and grinned at each other.
Standing and then pulling a T-shirt over his head, Rich said, "I'm already getting way too comfortable with this."
For a moment I grinned, because he was right; we were both getting way too comfortable exploring each other. Rich sitting on my lap should've surprised me since he never did it before. But I didn't mind at all, and wished he had remained on my lap, so we could check each other out some more. His touch felt so fine! "It don't bother me," I said.
At first, Rich appeared unaffected by what I had said. Then, a few moments later, he wiped his eyes and turned away. "I wish it did bother you, at least a little," Rich softly uttered.
What could I say to that? For a long few moments I wondered and stared at Rich. He never turned to face me.
I got up and went to him. "Do you want me to say no once in a while?" I asked. Rich shook his head, but didn't look up. Lifting his face, I asked, "Do you want to go back to being just friends?"
After a brief pause, Rich whispered, "I do half wish that were possible, yeah. But I'd doubt that I could live with you only being my friend. I'll always want to be held by you."
I sighed then said, "Tell me what you want, Rich. How do you want it to be? Whatever you decide is how I'll try to act. Cool?"
Rich nodded but started leaking tears again. "Sorry, can't help it," he sniffed.
Seeing him upset again caused something to come over me. Maybe it was anger, or frustration or pity or all three, but I couldn't take him freaking out and shedding tears again. "Do you love me?" I asked.
Scowling at my question, he looked up at me and whispered, "I think so."
I nodded then asked, "But you're embarrassed about being gay, huh?" and Rich nodded. "Do you know why you're embarrassed?" I asked, knowing that the biggest part of his embarrassment was the way his parents acted and what they believed.
Hanging his head and thinking, Rich mumbled, "Its different, being gay. I mean, I'm supposed to like girls, right? And I do like them, but only as friends. When I think about being naked with a girl, nothing happens. When I see big boobs on some TV show, not a thing happens. Breathing fast, getting sweaty, poppin' a bone, all that happens only for other guys." Rich paused for a minute and smirked, "Ya know Jimmy Reardan?"
I nodded. Jimmy Reardan's face was covered with pimples. At school he was becoming an outcast. Those that didn't ignore him, mocked him.
Still grinning, Rich asked, "Ever notice him in the shower after gym class?" I shook my head and Rich snickered, "As soon as those zits clear up, he's gonna be really popular."
I smiled. It must've taken me a full minute to grasp all of what Rich was saying. "You like Jimmy?" I laughed.
"SHHHHHHHH! Not so loud!" Rich admonished. Then he blushed and said, "He's just really hung. I like him, but not how I like you."
"So you dream about his big dick, huh?"
"Can't help myself," Rich blushed.
I chuckled then said, "I don't think about any other guy's dicks, only yours. But I do get a boner looking at hot babes on TV and in magazines."
Rich nodded then asked, "Are we still hitting the arcade?"
"Yeah, we'll continue this on the way," I answered.
Digging in his jeans pocket, Rich counted his money. "I've got about four bucks. If we stick to Mortal Combat, that should be more than enough."
"I've got a few bucks too," I said. Once we were downstairs, Rich reminded me to take the garbage out. We went to the kitchen, grabbed the trash, said goodbye to my mom then went out the back door. Glancing around and seeing the coast was clear, I leaned towards Rich and whispered, "I never noticed Jimmy's dick before."
Rich laughed hysterically for a long while. After I had dumped the trash and we were in front of the house on our way to the arcade, he finally chuckled, "It's really big. There's gotta be at least five inches hangin' there."
Hearing that, I roared. When I looked over at Rich, he was smiling at me. "What's so funny?" I chuckled.
Shaking his head as if it were a pity, Rich said, "I love talking about this stuff with you, Neil."
Grinning, I wrapped an arm over his shoulder and leaned on him a little. "We have to talk about your parents, pal."
Rich sighed and grunted, "You would mention them."
I smirked, "Well, the other choice is to not have sex at your house any more. But you still jumped off the floor this morning, like my mom was standing there in the room with us. Maybe we shouldn't have sex at my place any more either."
Grinning insanely, Rich asked, "How often are you thinking of having sex, Mister Powell?"
I snickered, "Well, how often do you beat yer meat, Mister Hamilton?"
He smiled at me and said, "Honestly?"
"Course."
"At least once a day, sometimes as much as four times a day," Rich confessed.
"Holy shit!" I laughed, "And I thought I was bad!"
"What?" Rich yelled. "How often do you do it?"
"In the morning or at night before bed usually, sometimes both," I answered truthfully.
"We both do it at least once a day! You're not so different from me, ya bastard!"
After a few moments laughter, I asked, "Does that mean we're gonna have sex together every day?"
"I'd sure like it that way but…"
After waiting for him to complete the sentence, I then said, "But hiding it from your parents is gonna be rough."
Rich nodded, "We have about two hours every afternoon with no one else home."
I giggled, "You'll fall asleep and then have a nervous breakdown when its time to wake up and get dressed!"
"Very funny," Rich hissed.
"It sorta is, but really, its not," I chuckled. Then I explained, "This morning at the table, when my dad asked me to shave this weekend, I thought he was gonna say something about… well, us."
Nodding understandingly, Rich asked, "You really want to come out to your parents?"
"I definitely don't want them learning about this by walking in us."
Like a cat that clawed its way out of a pool, Rich's whole body shuddered and shook. "I would die, right then and there," Rich softly said.
I nodded and paused for a few seconds then nervously asked, "What's it gonna take for you to tell me it's okay to talk with my folks?"
Rich hummed thoughtfully for a long minute. Then he grinned, "Valium? Marijuana?" I cracked up and Rich rambled on, "Cocaine? Heroin? Probably all of the above."
"It's not that bad!" I laughed loudly.
"For you it's not. But for me… man, I don't even want to consider what my folks would do or say if they found out I'm queer."
"Are you thinking of waiting until you're eighteen and move out, like the web sites mentioned?"
Shaking his head, Rich mumbled sadly, "Four years of hiding it? That sounds impossible too."
"I would think so!" I loudly agreed. Then, more softly, I said, "It's making me wonder what my parents are going to say too. I'm sure they'll be cool about it, but they are gonna want to talk with you. Anyway, I don't like feeling paranoid in my own home. And I'm already starting to get bummed out when you freak out afterwards, ya know?"
As we walked around the corner, Rich said, "Let me think about this during a few games of Mortal Combat."
I grinned, "Good, I'll have a better chance of winning with you preoccupied," and opened the arcade door for him. He looked up at me with his, "You're such a wise ass" smirk and my heart exploded. I really wanted to hug him right then, but instead, we bought some tokens and headed down the isle towards our favorite game. Taking our usual positions in front of the game, he glanced up at me and softly asked, "What?"
Breathing in deeply and sighing, I shook my head. "Nothin'," I grinned and then dropped two tokens into the machine. Within seconds it was obvious that we were both too preoccupied. We were playing like novices, screwing up the simplest moves. The first match ended in under a minute.
Rich grimaced as his fighter groaned, died and disappeared. Annoyed and just barely controlling his voice, he bitched, "That was fucking ridiculous!"
I nodded, "It was sheer luck that I won. We both need to concentrate a little bit more on the game."
Rich huffed and said, "I'm gonna kick yer ass this time."
With seven bucks between us, we could've played for four hours and had a few sodas. But our minds and hearts really weren't into it. In less than an hour we dropped four bucks worth of tokens into the machine. We got two cans of soda from the machine and left. Standing at the corner and drinking our sodas, Rich asked, "What now?"
"Your house or mine?" I asked.
After a few moments thought, Rich grinned, "Bennet's Pond?"
"Pollywogs!" I snickered, and we started in that direction.
For a long few minutes, we drank our sodas quietly. It was obvious to me that we had to tell my parents about us. My little sister was home almost every school day afternoon, more often with her creepy friend too. That would severely limit what Rich and I could do at my house. But Rich had his whole house to himself every afternoon for at least two hours, from 3:30 until five-thirty.
Crushing his soda can and belching, Rich then asked, "Do we have to tell your folks?"
"The web site said we need to find someplace safe," I reminded.
"My house is safe, as long as my folks aren't home."
"You wanna sneak around there and at my house too?"
Rich slowly nodded, "I like you a lot Neil, you know that. I think I love you too, but, shit man! It took me months to tell you that."
"Months?"
"Since the end of last summer."
"You could've told me," I sadly said.
Rich sighed, "Think about it this way. We've seen each other naked or in our underwear hundreds of times. Two years ago, when we first noticed we could get boners, we fooled around a little. Last year, we did it again." He paused and his voice softened, "Since then, I've wanted to play with your dick every time I've been with you. Every time, Neil; in school, at my house and yours, at the park, at the pond and every other place we've been. I can't get enough. I could sit and stare at you for hours and barely blink. I could stare at your dick for days and still come back for more." His voice was shaking horribly by the time he paused again. He then looked at me and admitted, "Saying all these things to you is turning me into a spaz. Telling your folks would put me in the funny farm. Telling my folks would be like certain death. If I somehow survived the experience, I think they'd ship me off somewhere, far away from you. Then I'd wish for a quick death."
Softly but sternly, I said, "Stop talking about dying! I'm bi, okay! I like your dick and think your whole body is getting extremely hot. So I don't look at other guys as much as you. I still have the same feelings. Does that mean I have to fear everything and start looking for an easy way out? I don't think so."
After a long few minutes of silence, we got to the pond. I squatted down near a grassy area at the edge of the pond and waited to see a pollywog swim by.
Kneeling beside me, Rich asked, "You want us to be like a couple?"
"What does that mean really? Haven't we been best friends forever? Just because we have sex too now doesn't mean everything else is totally wiped out. I still like to draw. I still try to play guitar. I'm still everything else I was a few days ago."
"With one exception," Rich grinned.
"You're still the same too. But now, when I see you getting scared or angry with me, I'll be more likely to cut you some slack because I know why."
"Someday you're gonna get a girlfriend and I'm gonna start spazzin' again," Rich said.
"Well, since it seems we're gonna be hiding this for a while, you're gonna need to get a girlfriend too," I grinned, and then added, "just to keep up appearances at school and with your folks."
Rich nodded, "It's a good thing I'm coordinated and good at sports. That'll help some too."
"I'll make a deal with you," I grinned.
"Yeah?" Rich sang.
"Every time you freak out, I'll start badgering you about coming out to my folks. If you manage to remain calm, I won't say a word." I grinned, "Is it a deal?" and held out my hand.
Rich smirked then shrugged and grabbed my hand. "It's a deal."
Later that afternoon, we were in my bedroom. Rich was playing video games. I was playing my guitar, trying to remember all the names of the notes. Rich asked, "Do you wanna come over for supper?"
Answering actually took thought! Since I couldn't find the strings or the frets without looking, I finished the exercise then asked, "You okay with that?"
Rich asked, "We gotta make sure everything looks the same as always, right?"
I sighed, "I'm gonna be paranoid."
"Me too."
After a long few moments, I asked, "You'll want me to stay the night?"
Rich answered, "For a Saturday night, that would be normal. Church tomorrow morning, I won't be able to stay here."
I sighed, "I really want to."
"If you're not ready yet, Neil, I understand."
"Just supper, okay?"
Rich looked sad, but nodded and got up to use the phone.
Before he left my room, I quickly put the guitar down on my bed and reached for his shoulder. He turned and I said, "Next weekend, I promise."
Forcing a smirk, Rich said, "If we're both ready, that would be great."
"It'll be Memorial Day, three days off."
Turning around again and heading down the hall, Rich softly snickered, "Three nights too!"
Following him out of my room, I softly chuckled, "Four times in a day!"
"Shush!"
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