Well, well, well… I know what you're thinking. Where the fuck has this guy been?
I'm sorry for such a long delay, guys… I just moved from Texas to New York, and moving across the country to a state you've never lived in, AND a new job is some rough shit… So, I had to take a little break and get my personal situation under control before writing any more of this story…
I felt like (And I firmly believe I'm right) that if I had pushed myself too hard to write a chapter before I was in the proper state of mind, that the entire book would suffer, and I'd either end up rewriting them later or I'd spend the whole book making up for some bad chapters.
You deserve better than that. Anyway, now I'm ready. I'm feeling good. So here's chapter 7, it's the longest chapter I've ever written.
In terms of scheduling: I expect to get back on the weekly to semi-weekly schedule I was on before. I will shoot for a chapter every week or so. No more long delays unless I get hit by a car or something.
Special thanks to my editor, David! He is a great source of inspiration for me and also a friend.
"Dallas? Why on earth are you going to Dallas? And why am I just now hearing about this, young man?"
A mother's love.
"I'm going to a chess tournament." I responded, avoiding eye-contact, "Oh, and I'm gonna have to miss fourth period on Friday. It starts really early."
"Absolutely not! Nicco! Tell your son he will NOT be missing school just to attend some gaming convention!"
We were all in the kitchen, my dad and I at the bar, he with his morning paper, and mom boiling some water to make her morning tea. It was the closest we ever got to having the picturesque family breakfast.
"MOM! It's not a gaming convention!!! It's an official tournament!"
"It's a game, dear. And you will not be missing school to go play boardgames all weekend." She responded.
"Dad!!! Tell mom to let me go… It's… It's… It's… the WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP!!!! Everyone will be there!" I sputtered out.
Ok, Ian… Really?
Dad, finally looking up from his newspaper, gave me a curious look.
"Wait a minute… The world championship for chess is being held in… Dallas?" He responded with a haughty laugh. A vague look of disbelief on his face.
I cringed inwardly at how outlandish my story sounded. It wasn't one of my better lies.
"Duh! Why else would I be going?" I responded.
"Our son, who has never played chess a day in his life, is playing in a world championship? You expect us to believe that!?"
"I'm not playing… I'm watching! And…….. LEARNING…" I responded.
"So you're what… Going by yourself?" Dad asked.
"I'm going with a friend I met at the chess club. He's like a grandmaster, dad! He's insane! He's… teaching me all about the game and stuff."
My dad let out a breath and flashed my mom a defeated glance. I knew I had won.
"Amelia, let him go. It's better than him sitting in his room all weekend."
"I want to meet this boy you're going with. And that is NON-negotiable." Mom commanded.
"But… he was hanging out here last weekend!" I responded, exasperated.
School that week moved slower than molasses. I counted every second of every minute of every hour of every day.
And finally, after a lifetime of anticipation, the day had come.
The plan was to drive home after third period, get my bags and shit, and wait for Ollie to come pick me up. This prevented me from having to leave my car in the school lot for the whole weekend, and also satisfied mom, who wouldn't budge on meeting him.
My things were sitting by the front door. I had spent all night Thursday picking everything out, resulting in me getting - maybe - 45 minutes of actual sleep. And can you blame me? There would be a lot of 'firsts' happening this weekend. Me going on a trip with the hottest boy on earth being the most significant, but also the sharing a room with him, the going to a chess tournament, playing in said tournament… This shit had me stressed out.
My chest did its bouncy thing as I opened the door.
Ollie was wearing a pink Metallica shirt with grey board shorts, along with… You guessed it: FLIP-FLOPS.
God, is he trying to kill me?
His feet were as beautiful as every other part of him. I had to avert my eyes because my mouth literally started watering. Like a Pavlovian dog. I'm fucking hopeless.
"You ready?" He asked, with a smile that could melt steel.
"Yep! Uh, just gotta say hey to my mom before we go… She, uh… Wants to make sure you aren't going to rape and murder me."
I could see his demeanor change a little. Like he was afraid of being evaluated or something.
"Just come in dude. Let's get this over with." I said.
He followed me through the hallway, passed the living room and into the kitchen, where my mother was.
She was doing that thing moms do… That thing where they pretend not to notice that you had just entered the room… Like, why are moms so freakin' weird?
"Mom, I want you to meet my friend Oliver. He'll be going with me to the tournament." I said, as diplomatically as possible.
My mom, pretending to be surprised that I took the time to introduce my friend to her - smiled and reached to shake his hand.
"Well, Oliver, it's certainly nice to meet the boy who's taking my son to the chess world championship! I hear you're quite the player!"
FUCK. How many lies can one person come up with? Play along Ollie… PLAY ALONG!
"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Ferri. And, yeah, um… It's going to be a great tournament… Uh, championship, as you said." Ollie blubbered out.
Well, he could've done worse. Should've given him the heads up on that one.
"I'm sure it will be dear." My mother responded, smiling like a school girl. She took a second to give him a subtle up and down glance. I wasn't pleased.
HE'S MINE. BACK OFF!
"Such a polite young man. Perhaps you can help my son in that department. He could use some, shall we say, guidance."
"I'll do my best, Mrs. Ferri." Ollie responded with a smile.
"Oh please, call me Amelia."
I couldn't help rolling my eyes.
Ollie smiled, "Will do."
I had endured enough of this for one lifetime, and decided to push things along.
"We'll be back Sunday night mom. I'll let you know how it goes. We should be getting going. Traffic and all."
"You two drive safely, you hear?"
"Yes, ma'am." We replied, nearly in unison.
We grabbed my bags and headed out to his car… He had a navy-blue Acura RSX coup. Probably 4-5 years old by the looks of it. Manual transmission. Probably a hand-me-down from his older brother. I don't know why, but it looked just like something he'd drive.
We got in, and started our journey.
"World…………………. CHAMPIONSHIP?" Ollie said in an exaggerated tone, a few minutes into our trip. A confused smile on his face.
I should've known this was coming.
"Shut up! I had to say SOMETHING. They were practically water-boarding me! My mom was flipping out that we were missing school over a 'gaming convention'. What the hell was I supposed to say?"
"Um… I don't know, maybe tell her that it isn't a gaming convention?" Ollie responded with a chuckle.
"You don't know my struggle."
About 45 minutes had passed… and after careful assessment and due consideration, I came to the following undeniable conclusion: Ollie is the SLOWEST driver… Ever.
"This is nice…. I didn't realize we'd be driving to Dallas at such a…. Scenic pace." I said, a hint of sarcasm escaping me.
Apparently, I struck a nerve.
"Hey! I'm driving the speed limit. And there's traffic!" Ollie responded, playfully offended.
"I wasn't complaining. I mean, this is the first time I've been able to count the leaves on every tree I've passed. I just, you know, never had the opportunity to do that before today." I said with a smile.
I couldn't resist. there's something so fun about teasing him. I'm addicted to seeing his reactions… Sort of like a toddler that keeps trying to get an adult to make faces at them… I was that bad.
"I'm driving you to Dallas like a king, and this is how you treat me?" He said, unable to hide his smile.
"If this is what it's like to be a king, then I'll take the Gulag… Actually, I've always wondered what it would be like to ride with those old people on those huge - and extremely slow - greyhound buses. Now I know!"
"Whatever. I usually drive faster, but I've got precious cargo with me this time." Ollie responded, in a matter-of-fact tone.
I couldn't tell if he was using my own deadpan sarcasm against me, or if he was actually hitting on me. And that's probably my own fault. It's often very hard for people to tell when I'm being sarcastic versus when I'm being serious. It's another by-product of all the British comedy I watch. Americans tend to accentuate sarcasm in such a way as to make it obvious, but to me that takes away its bite. Sarcasm is funniest when juxtaposed against a completely ordinary delivery, with no special inflections or smiles. That's part of what makes it so funny.
So, I got to sit there and wonder whether he was being serious or not. God, I wished I had the courage to just ask what he meant by that. But as usual, I was too chicken.
After a quick stop for lunch, we arrived at his Uncle and Aunt's house. It was in a super dense suburban neighborhood. They lived in a good-sized two-storey house, covered in taupe siding, with some brick-accenting.
Once inside, I was introduced to Ollie's aunt, Michelle. His two cousins were with his uncle at a baseball game that night. We wouldn't meet them until later.
"We're so happy to have the two of you here! It isn't every day we get a visit from our handsome nephew!" Michelle said, going in for another hug with Ollie.
Seeing him with his family made me feel so fucking special. I was being included in his private life. I was genuinely happy to be there. It felt like I'd won the lottery…
"And who is this handsome devil?" Michelle said, with a sweet smile.
"This is Ian, he's a good friend of mine." Ollie said.
Good friend, aye? I like the sound of that.
"You get a hug too, young man. You boys think you're too old for hugs, I'm sure."
She pulled me into a motherly hug, where I smelled her classic perfume. I'm such a sucker for perfumes and colognes. I was starting to really like her. She seemed genuinely kind.
"Oh, and did you see our new couch?" Michelle asked.
Both Ollie and I shook our heads.
"Well, come see it!" She responded.
A bit confused, we followed her into the game room located at the back of the house. My world collapsed as soon as I saw that fucking couch… that god-awful, horrible, cursed, wretched couch…
I realized that everything I had dreamed of this weekend being was just a fantasy. A fantasy killed - no, murdered - by a damn couch.
Sitting in their game room was the pull-out mattress from their 'new couch', where it became immediately clear ONE of us would be sleeping.
"You boys are much too old to share a bed. This way you can each have your own space. Oliver, since Ian is your guest, he'll take Avery's room, and you can take this room. For a pullout mattress it's very comfortable." She said, oblivious to what turmoil this little detail was doing to my insides.
I can't fully describe to you the level of disappointment I felt in that moment. This wasn't some 'Oh shit, I was gonna try to get laid and now I can't' kind of disappointment. This was gut-wrenching sadness. I had been dreaming of just laying with Ollie in the bed! Feeling him next to me, hearing his breathing, giggling with him over stupid shit before we fell asleep, fighting over who had the most covers, accidentally letting my foot touch his.
The little things.
It was those little moments I wanted most.
Sure, I wanted him to spray jizz all over me this weekend. I won't lie. But that was the carnal side of me. That side wasn't nearly as loud as the part of me that couldn't help but want to be near him. God, those sweet moments… I wanted to know that I had shared moments with him that no other boy had.
I felt robbed.
And it killed my mood.
Ollie was completely unreadable. He didn't look happy and he didn't look sad. I was starting to get a sense that that was his defense mechanism in unexpected situations.
We had never discussed the actual sleeping arrangements. He had never expressed a desire to share a bed with me. So, despite being totally furious, I couldn't really show it, or at least I felt like I couldn't, because I wasn't sure how what he had expected or wanted. Like, maybe he didn't care? I hoped that wasn't the case, but what the fuck do I know?
We eventually went and brought our things into our respective 'sleeping areas'. It was about 7pm, and I was trying to get out of my own head. Avery's bedroom was a typical boy's room. Blue walls and posters everywhere. It had a slight musty smell to it, that smell football gear gets when it isn't washed quite as often as it should be.
I was trying to look on the bright side of things… That is, until I took a good look at the bed. It then became clear why Michelle assumed two high school boys wouldn't want to share: It was a double. We would have had to spoon the whole night or at least let our legs get completely entangled in order to sleep there. And knowing that made me even more mad. It would have been PERFECT. And it was stolen from me.
Why couldn't they have just waited to buy that damn couch? Why couldn't lady luck just give me a fucking break!? I just need things to go my way SOME of the time…
"Like your room?" I heard Ollie say, in a subdued voice from the doorway.
I cleared my throat and put on the happiest face I could muster.
"Uh, yeah… Reminds me of when I was younger. And the bed's comfy." I said.
Ollie nodded, still standing in the doorway. It seemed like he wanted to say something, but he hadn't worked up the nerve. He then came and sat on the bed next to me.
"You, uh… Gonna be ok in here? I know it's weird staying in someone's room when you don't even know them." He said, looking down at the carpet.
"A little… I'm just happy to be here, dude. I mean, I kinda envisioned this being like a sleepover, so I was kinda bummed that you'll be in the other room and all… But, uh… This is cool too." I lied.
"Well, we can still stay up late. Like, probably till 10:30 at least. So we still have time to hang." Ollie responded.
"10:30? Fuck that, dude. 12:30." I said.
"But we have to be at the convention center at 8 am tomorrow." He said, looking into my eyes.
The face he was making wasn't lining up with his words. It was like he wanted me to give him an excuse to hang out longer. His mischievous expression told me he liked my plan better.
"Dude, that's like 7 hours sleep. We'll be fine." I said, then let out a breath and continued, "Pweeeease?"
"Ok, ok." He said, waving his hands, pretending like he was too tired to argue with me.
I wanted to reach out and hold his hand. To feel some reassurance that what I thought might be going on between us was real. I mean, fuck… He had been humping me like crazy not more than a week ago. But the last time I tried to hold his hand, things didn't go according to plan… I didn't have the courage to try it again, yet… I don't have an infinite capacity for rejection. And it seems like only HE is allowed to initiate physical contact.
It's not fucking fair.
"So what are we gonna do?" I asked, unable to take my eyes off him.
"Come with me." Ollie said, as he stood up.
I followed him into the kitchen where I watched him make two sandwiches. Ham and Turkey with cheese along with some mustard and mayonnaise on mine (by personal request).. He bagged them up, grabbed a couple waters and then motioned for me to follow him towards the front door.
I had been pretty much just watching him the whole time. Very little was said. I didn't know why he was making sandwiches and I didn't know why we were going to his car. I mean, I assumed we were taking our 'dinner' somewhere…
After a short drive and a couple of songs by Queen… We arrived at a rundown, little neighborhood park. There were swing sets and some other areas for kids.. On the other side were a few picnic tables that sat at the base of a beautiful green field. We got out of the car and headed to one of the tables that was shaded by a tall tree, and proceeded to unwrap our gourmet dinners.
The sun was setting and that beautiful orange hue pervaded the evening sky.
A minute or two passed, and I started to notice that Ollie looked troubled by something… I didn't know if I should ask him about it, so instead I did what I always do in uncomfortable situations: I made a joke.
"Is this like our first date?" I asked, with a smile.
He was looking at everything but me.
"Do you think I'm a good person?" He asked, out of nowhere.
What kind of dumb game are we playing?
"Ummmmm…. I KNOW you are." I responded, agitated that he would even ask me that question.
Silence passed between us. I didn't know where we were going with this, but I knew not to push him.
"There are things about me… Things I'm not, you know, proud of." He said.
"Well, there are things about ME that I'm not proud of. Why do you get to be so special?" I responded.
My reassurances were falling on deaf ears. He had a troubled look on his face. He regretted something… Something big.
"I've been in this situation before." Ollie stated, looking at the table.
"You know…" He said.
MY GOD. Why is everything so difficult with him? Just say what the fuck you have to say. Fucking hell.
"Ollie… Just tell me what you mean, dude. You act like I know what's going on here. I literally have no fucking clue."
He looked around the park some more, clearly stalling for time.
"If I tell you something… A story… Do you promise not to get mad?" He said, now looking me dead in the eyes. Those hazel eyes taking me hostage.
"I promise." I said.
"I swear not to get mad at you for the story you're about to tell me." I said, so tempted to roll my eyes.
"I can trust you, right? That you'll never tell anyone what I'm about to say. Even if you get mad at me or… Even if we stop being friends?" He asked.
Ok, now I'm getting offended. How can he be so clueless?
HELLO? What kind of person do you think I am?
"I would never do that to you. Even if… Just… I… I would never, ever do that to you." I said.
"Ok, I just needed to ask… I needed to hear you say it." He said, looking at me sincerely.
I looked calm, because I wanted to hear what he was going to say. But I was anything but. I was a fucking nervous wreck. God… Did he kill somebody? Was there ANYTHING he could have done that would make me love him less? I seriously doubted it… And that was a scary-ass thought.
"I'm not gay." Ollie said.
I did roll my eyes this time.
Here we go again…
I believed you the first time, bruh. Maybe you should get 'I'm not gay' printed on a t-shirt… Make yourself feel better.
"Ok.", I said, in a flat tone.
"But… I'm not exactly straight… At least, I don't think I am. The um… Feelings… Come and go." He let out a breath, and continued "I don't know how to explain it."
My leg was bouncing like an acrobat at Cirque du Soleil.
He's not totally straight! I have a fucking chance!
Calm down, Ian… Calm the fuck down, this is a serious situation.
"So, you're… bi?" I said, keeping my tone as controlled as possible.
"It's not that simple. Like, sorta. Just let me tell the story. Ok?" He said.
"Yeah, sorry." I responded.
"There was a guy that I was friends with for most of my life. He was sorta like my best friend, in a way. We had a lot of common interests and stuff… Anyway, a few years ago, like all boys - or, most boys anyway - I started noticing girls. And I started talking to him about them more and more…"
I was watching him intently, making sure not to give away anything with my facial expressions.
"He always tried to act like he was into girls too… But, like… There were times when he would do things… Small things that were just kinda weird for a guy to do. He always found a reason to touch me or hit me or bump against me… At the time I thought nothing of it… But after a while, he started getting irritated when I talked about girls at all. I just thought he was jealous or something. I couldn't really see things for how they were." He paused, and looked around.
I was one-hundred percent focused on him.
"One night we snatched some liquor from my dad's cabinet." He said, with a hint of a smile, "Shit, we hadn't eaten hardly anything that day." He snorted. His eyes were far away. He was reliving the moment. Letting himself go to a place he hadn't been to in a long, long time.
"After way too much liquor, he suggested we watch some porn on my laptop."
My blood pressure was through the roof at this point. I didn't want to hear any more. I couldn't take it. I didn't want to hear about him doing anything with someone else, let alone another dude. But I sat there. I sat there and prepared myself for whatever was coming.
"I was shit-faced, so I agreed… I mean, guys do that sort of shit, right?" He asked.
I nodded, slowly.
"Well, I don't remember how… But at a certain point our pants were off and we were… You know, wanking or whatever. Anyway, without even asking he kinda grabbed mine. And I just… didn't do anything. I don't know why, but I just let it happen. And like, I guess I let him do it because it felt good. But, I hadn't been thinking about it before he started doing it, you know?"
"That night started like a chain reaction or something. He, uh… Wanted to do stuff like that all the time. And I would let him, but like, I didn't do it back or anything. At a certain point I kinda expected him to do stuff for me. I kinda pressured him, I guess… I dunno… If we'd been drinking or even just hanging out, then before he left I would do things to let him know that he needed to do those things to me. I wasn't thinking about him or his feelings… It was just an easy way to get off…"
I couldn't help but envision the scene he'd painted for me.
I felt hatred for that other boy. He had done nothing to me, but I hated him.
"This went on for a few months. He never asked me to do anything sexual to him, and I never offered." He paused briefly, "I was such an asshole, and I haven't even gotten to the point of the story…" He shook his head, with a disgusted expression.
I was already devastated. In a full-blown jealous rage. The thought of another guy touching him there… Making him feel those feelings… It was making me physically sick. I knew we weren't together, but that doesn't change how the fuck I felt. I hated that boy. I hated that he had been given that gift and I hadn't.
"I'm listening." I said, as gently as I could.
I was going to keep my shit together. One way or another.
"Well, so anyway… Shit… This is the hard part." He looked towards the grass, and continued, "I've never told anyone this…"
I just sat there and waited.
I had plenty to think about while he got his words together… What exactly did Ollie and this guy do after that first time? I was imagining every possibility… Shaking inside. I couldn't get those images out my head. Images of Ollie's face while this other guy pleasured him.
I wanted to vomit.
"So… One night he was… Uh… Doing stuff to me in my room. And my brother sorta heard us through the door. Later that night he confronted me about it. I denied it, but he kept saying he had proof… That he would tell dad. I freaked the fuck out. My dad is ex-military. Guys don't do that with other guys. Not in his world… So, Oscar made me promise never to hang out or be friends with him ever again." Ollie looked at me, and it could have been my imagination, but it almost looked like his eyes were more watery than they'd been before.
My mouth said it before my brain even thought it.
Ollie didn't respond to me, he just kept going, "He didn't understand why I was ignoring him. It drove him crazy… I knew he had feelings for me. I knew it was more than, you know, fooling around for him. But my brother scared the shit out of me. I didn't know what else to do. I didn't have… Like… Romantic feelings for him, so I didn't really appreciate how much my actions hurt him."
I sat there letting all this information swirl in my brain.
Now I could see water in his eyes. His nose was redder than before, too. Seeing him hurt was a knife to my heart. I wanted to wave a wand and make it all better. To right all the wrongs.
But I couldn't.
"The worst part of all of this…" He wiped his eyes, and continued, "Is that he still tries, you know? He still tries to be nice to me."
As soon as that last sentence came out of his mouth, his voice broke. His composure faltered. His head dropped to his hands and I heard him taking deeper breaths.
I was full of so many emotions that it's pointless to describe them here. I didn't know what I was feeling. I felt everything.
Before I knew it I was on the other side of the table, next to him, and without thinking had pulled him into a tight hug. I wanted to comfort him any way I could. I knew he had done wrong, but what teenage boy hasn't? He was admitting it. He was owning it. And that is more than a lot of people I've known would ever do… That alone proved to me that he wasn't the bad person he made himself out to be. He was a good person thrown into an impossible situation. Confused and scared about so many things. About his relationship with - I assume - Trevor, and about what the implications of his actions would be should his brother reveal their secret.
He held me tight. His face buried in my shoulder. I just wished this moment could have happened under happier circumstances. I was still reeling from information overload.
After a couple minutes I felt him relax and start to pull away from me.
Still close, he looked in my eyes, and said, "What if I do it again. What if that's what I'm doing with you? What if I end up using you too?"
I started to make a face that showed how stupid I thought that idea was, but stopped myself halfway.
What if he was?
Was I just an easy mark? Am I so head-over-heels for him that I've lost all rational perspective? Would I let him take and take and take without getting anything back? What if that's the best I could get?
I had no idea.
But he'd been touchier with me than he claimed to be with Trevor… He kissed my back. That doesn't sound like 'nothing' to me.
Am I just looking for excuses to justify believing in a fairy-tale?
"You tell me, Ollie. Are you?" I asked.
He thought for a minute, looking at my face, looking in my eyes. My heart fluttered. I was pretty sure I was having palpitations…
"Sometimes… When I look at you… I feel…" He paused, "Things… I just don't know if I want to go through with some of those feelings. I don't know if I could, like… do them. I don't wanna start something I can't finish. Does that make sense?" He asked.
"But you do have feelings? Feelings for me?" I asked, hanging on every word. Hoping against hope that anything was better than nothing.
And there we sat. This was my second attempt to get an answer to this question. At least this time he appeared to be considering giving a real answer. God, the wait was intolerable.
After a minute or so he looked up and into my eyes. Eye contact with him cast its usual spell on me. I saw a softness in his eyes that I hadn't seen before. A vulnerability. I could 'see' him.
He quickly looked back at the table before answering, "I think so."
"Thank you for telling me." I said in a soft voice, "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me all of that. Thank you for being honest with me just now."
He chuckled and looked up at me with a smile. After a few seconds of eye contact, he said, "It's getting dark, we should… We should probably head back."
Before I could standup from the picnic table, I was in his arms again. He'd pulled me into a hug this time. Our cheeks were touching… It was beautiful. He was beautiful. Life was beautiful.
We made it back to the house at around 10:45 pm. And what I didn't realize was his two cousins would be waiting to see him. Avery was around 13 and Mason something around 10 or so. It was pretty clear to me they idolized Ollie. And, despite wanting Ollie all to myself that night, playing a few games of Mao with those two little dudes was just what we both needed to break through the heaviness of the preceding hours.
At around 11:45pm, I was exhausted… And I figured that I should let Ollie have some time to decompress. So, I said my goodnights and went to take a shower.
Afterwards, I slipped into my boxer-briefs and dove into the bed. The AC vent in their house blew directly onto where I was laying, which was fuckin' awesome. It was nice and cool in there.
I laid and I thought. I thought about so many things. I thought about what Ollie meant when he said he had feelings for me. And where does that leave us? Can I kiss him now? What can I do? What shouldn't I do? I was getting so tired of holding back.
Don't get me wrong: I was fucking thrilled that he felt something, but I was a kid in a candy shop… I had a little, now I wanted more.
I was still brimming. That conversation had painted Trevor in a whole new light. I had never been so wrong about someone. Like, sure… He was being a brat at the chess club, but can I blame him? Hell no. His best friend abandoned him and never told him why.
A shot of fear went down my spine. I realized that Oscar can NEVER suspect us. No matter where we are in our relationship. I don't want to ever be in a situation where Ollie has to choose his family or me. Fuck, that would be the worst. I have to be careful. Really careful from now on. I was not about to fuck this thing up.
Eyes wide open. I wanted to sleep, but I just couldn't get comfortable. I tried every fucking position, ok? Nothing. I was starting to give in to the idea that tonight would be long as hell.
BZZZT. BZZZT. BZZZT.
Who in the living fuck is texting me at 1am?
I didn't look. I figured it was Sara. Hell no. Not reading.
BZZZT. BZZZT. BZZZT.
FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!
I reached over the table and unplugged my phone from the charger.
Ollie: u awake?
Me: Yeah… Gah, I'm wide awake lol.
Ollie: dude, this bed sux. it's been an hour and my back fuckn hurts :-<
Me: Damn. I wouldn't know… MY bed is super comfy :-P
I was trying to come up with the wittiest possible response, when I heard the door creak. Needless to say it freaked me THE FUCK out. I dropped my phone off the side of the bed and subconsciously got into like a warrior pose under the covers… Like I'm Chuck Norris or some shit. I can only imagine how dumb I looked.
"Dude, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
"Hey." I couldn't help but laugh at how stupid I must have looked, "Sorry, I just get a little jumpy at night. What's up?"
He closed the door behind him. I heard him walk around to the other side of the bed.
Why is he… holding a pillow?
My heart was pounding. I'm sure I looked like a deer caught in the headlights.
"Mind sharing?" He asked, in a quiet voice.
DO I MIND SH…
Let me think about it….. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm….
I'm pretty sure I levitated. Dead serious. I scooted over at supersonic speed. I wanted him in that bed like, yesterday… He was wearing a loose t-shirt and some gym shorts. I had only my undies on, but he didn't seem to care.
He slipped under the sheets and immediately our legs were touching. I was on my back, him on his side, facing me. His left leg was laying atop my left leg. He slipped his foot under my right calf, warming up his cold toes. I was fucking buzzing. I just needed to get that shirt off of him… Maybe tell him I'm allergic to synthetic fabric? But only at night… I'm only allergic at night… Yeah, that's it.
"Thanks." He said, "That bed was killing me. I could feel the support bar through the mattress."
I felt his breath on my ear.
But I didn't have time to dwell on that.
Nope, no time at all.
Because his left hand had come to rest on my bare stomach.
I couldn't breathe.
I was doing my best to stay composed… Even doing those breath controlling exercises.
In through the nose…. Good boy. Now out through the mouth. Quietly!
My head was spinning like a merry-go-round.
He's touching my stomach!
I was fucking stiff. Aching. Shit, I thought it would be hard to fall asleep before… There is no fucking way I'll ever sleep in this position.
My dick was straight-up pulsating.
"Thanks for being so cool today. You know, about everything." He said.
"Yeah! No prob." I said, dumbly.
His hand had started to do little circles on my stomach.
I was fucking shook.
God, keep rubbing me there. Just do it lower… Please go… LOWER!
I couldn't hear him anymore. All that existed was his angel-soft touch on my belly.
God, he's showing me.
He's trying to be intimate with me!
Waves of pleasure were shooting through my midsection. It was like he'd injected meth into my stomach. That shit was off the charts.
I never pre-cum on my own. For years I thought that I wasn't capable of doing it. But Ollie touching me was all it took. I could feel the wetness inside my underwear.
We definitely have to wash these sheets before we go.
His circles started getting bigger. He was slowly circling my entire stomach.
Oh god, you're gonna make me cum dude, seriously. Fucking hell, Ollie.
"You excited about the tournament tomorrow?" Ollie asked.
His hands were working me like play-dough. Clay in the hands of an artist.
"Uh, yeah… It's gonna… be great… Dude." I said, trying to focus on his words.
My breathing was getting more and more ragged.
His hand went lower. My dreams were becoming reality… His circles started slowly dipping just below the waistline of my boxers.
I was fucking delirious.
All I could think about was him holding my dick. Him making me cum. I was fucking gone. Nobody home. No control.
I NEEDED to feel him touch it. I couldn't wait any longer.
I thrust my groin a little in the air, trying to get my dick to touch his fingers.
His hand was maybe an inch above my pubes, still doing little circles. And as I rotated my hips forward the head of my dick grazed the tips of his fingers.
My cock was flexing like it was having a stroke.
I contorted my pelvis even more as the underside of my cock snaked under his fingertips.
"Oh… Fuck, dude." I said.
I was nanoseconds from making the biggest mess of my life.
"Ohhhhhh…" I moaned.
My dick was screaming. I was close to seizure-level overload, and he was barely touching it.
One of his fingers had started to gently trace the underside of the head of my penis… Right in that super sensitive spot.
My mouth was open. I was probably drooling a little bit, I dunno. But the crazy thing was the colors I was seeing, even with my eyes closed! As he traced that little spot under the head, I was seeing fucking splashes of color in my brain. Like, I could ACTUALLY see that shit. No wonder parents are so worried about their kids learning about sex… This shit is fucking awesome.
My ears were ringing. I was on the verge of the most powerful orgasm of my life.
Without thinking I reached and gripped his dick through his shorts.
He was hard as a rock.
As soon as I touched his erection I felt his whole body tense up. Like, he went completely rigid. He stopped doing those little circles. I wasn't sure what was going on.
I immediately let go of it.
WHY DID I DO THAT?
"Sorry. It uh… That felt so good. I wanted you to feel good too. I wasn't thinking." I said.
My dick was still under his fingertips. Pulsating like crazy.
He then gently pulled his hand out of my boxers and patted my belly, before removing it altogether.
"We should get some sleep." He said.
Captain dumbfuck strikes again. Why couldn't I have been happy with what he was doing? Why did I need to go and grab his junk? Goddamnit. He was probably going to jerk me… I was sooooooo close. And now he's weirded out or some shit.
Why won't he let me touch him there???? I can't do anything to him without feeling like an asshole.
I turned on my side towards the wall and closed my eyes. Relishing that feeling from a few moments before, holding back even more moans… Holding back my desire to stick my hand in my underwear… To stick his hand there.
Have you ever tried to go to sleep when you're like a stroke and a half away from blowing the biggest wad of your life? Let me tell you… Not easy.
Thirty minutes or so passed, and I was still awake. I still felt his legs against mine… This was that beautiful moment I had always wanted. For a few minutes I had been worried he'd be mad at me for for touching his dick… But honestly, HE put his hand near my junk to begin with! I mean, I did kinda push my dick into his hand too though… Maybe both of us got a little carried away… I mean, we hadn't even properly kissed yet…
But like, the fuck you expect me to do? He started it!
As I laid there, he slowly scooted closer to me… To where he had been before I grabbed his dick. I was pretty sure he was still awake. I then felt his chest move against my back. And ever so slowly his arm came around me, pulling me back towards him. It took everything in me not to sigh or moan or do anything. I just melted into him. A minute or so later I felt the tops of his feet come to rest under the bottoms of my own.
We were glued together.
It was an intimacy I could have only dreamed of.
Then came an angel-soft whisper in my ear, "I'm… I'm trying, Ian. Just please be patient with me, baby."
He then gently kissed the back of my neck. His nose ruffled through my hair, sending tingles everywhere.
My soul was smiling.
I had never felt happiness that deep down before. My bones rejoiced. He wasn't mad at me!
My body was electrified by him. He was a magic elixir. A cure to all my sadness. He was the secret potion that would turn my world around. I just couldn't screw it up. I just had to be smart. Be… patient, like he said.
I didn't acknowledge him with words. Instead, I put my hand over his, which was near my chest, and intertwined our fingers.
This is the only thing I'll ever want.
This is the only thing I'll ever need.
Feeling him envelop me, feeling his breath on the back of my neck… It brought forth the deepest and most restful sleep of my life.
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