Back to stories

I fancied the hell out of Brian the first time I saw him. It was in the first English class I went to at my new school, and he was seated four chairs in front of me and to the right. He sat there absorbed in something he was doodling on a pad, his hair flopped slightly forward and shoulders hunched. I could see that under his t-shirt he was about as thin as I was, and the observation was backed up by the calves which jutted out from beneath his long board shorts and disappeared into white socks surrounded by his artfully untied Nikes. There was a light blonde fuzz on every bit of his tanned flesh that I could see, though since that included the back of his neck, one forearm and a couple of calves, that wasn't too surprising.

He would have been the student paying least attention to the class had I not been totally absorbed in watching him. Let's backtrack here for a minute. At the time, I was the only gay person I knew. At thirteen, I was definitely gay. I wasn't going through a phase. At ten or eleven, I might have been going through a phase, but three years later? I don't think so... I was also lacking a certain level of physical development, which as any young boy will tell you is the worst thing in the world. Sure, I'd grown a little, and not only in height, over the past few years, but certain things that would have made me happy were conspicuous by their absence. I don't think I need to go into the gory details.

I was sitting in a new English class in a new school because my dad had been relocated. Not for the first time, I might add, but at least this time it looked like we might have settled properly for a while. The new position was pretty permanent -- you either stayed in the management place for about ten years and then got promoted, or you got made redundant. I knew my dad was pretty good at what he did, so I figured that there was every chance we'd be in the same city for long enough for me to reach adulthood. Which was great because it looked like I might actually be able to make some friends and keep them.

I was kind of glad that I never came out and found a boyfriend in the previous place we'd lived in, so there were no strong connections torn when we left. All the friends I had made were in contact via e-mail, and I could see them once in a while anyway, so I didn't feel that displaced. Of course, by the time I'd spotted Brian, I was still friendless in the new town. I didn't worry -- it was usually a while in a new place before I found the kind of people I didn't have to act up around, so I figured I'd bide my time and things would sort themselves out.

I sat ignoring the English teacher, whose name I'd already forgotten, instead closely watching Brian. Fortunately my little friend was behaving himself, and there was no tent to hide in my pants for once. Usually when I stared at a hot guy and daydreamed about him I would get hard as nails and nothing would make it go down except a quick visit to the toilet. This time, though, I was able to sit fairly normally, and hide my staring by pretending to be intently focussed on the blackboard rather than on the boy twenty feet in front of it. His hair was truly amazing, brown with blonde streaks, a little long but not enough to fall past his ears, and silky smooth by the look of the way the light fell upon it. I watched the muscles on his left arm flex slightly as he drew, wondering what he was making a picture of, and also wondering whether I could remember the last left-handed boy I had fancied.

Of course, given time it came to me -- Nathan. Two schools back, when I was only ten. He had shoulder length blonde hair and gorgeous feminine looks, and the closest I had ever got to him was being on the same swim team for a couple of weeks. I don't think we ever spoke more than two sentences to each other, but I lusted after him from afar, and envied his abilities as a swimmer. I was a strong swimmer -- the only sport I was any good at, since everything else required levels of coordination that I simply didn't possess -- but Nathan was like a fish. He would cut through the water as if he had been born there and it was unnatural for him to be walking around on land. After the first time I saw him swimming, I really had to check his hands and feet for signs of webbing. Needless to say I didn't see any, though that didn't stop me checking him out. Anyway, I digress, this is a story about Brian.

The end of the lesson came and went, and I suddenly realised people were moving around me. Snapping out of my trance, I quickly shoved my books into my bag and slung it over my shoulder as I stood up. Straight into Brian. At the time, I still didn't know his name. Face flushing bright red, I mumbled an apology, which was graciously accepted with another mumble and a shy smile. His face was just as lovely as I remembered it from when he walked into the room at the beginning of the lesson, and the smile only served to heighten his good looks. And then he was gone again, moved along in the tide of students pouring from the classroom. I was left standing, rooted to the spot, though fortunately my predicament was hidden by the fact that I couldn't barge my way through the crowd anyway.

I couldn't believe the effect he had on me with that one smile. My heart was beating hard and fast, so much so that I could hear it pounding in my ears. I kept looking for Brian for the rest of the day, but to no avail. He wasn't in any more of my classes, and I began to worry that it might all have been a dream, that I'd imagined the fantastic vision of boyhood.

That thought, though, flew out of my mind at my locker after school that afternoon when I found that Brian's locker was right next to mine. I closed my door to find him looking my way, and once more he gave me that electric smile. He extended his hand, and spoke.
"Tom, right?" he asked. I could only nod my head and grin like an idiot as I shook his hand. His voice was angelic, untouched by puberty. "I'm Brian. You nearly had me on my ass there in English, you know."

For the briefest of moments, I thought he was angry with me, and I was about to apologise when I saw the grin on his face -- he was joking. I really can't remember what I said, but it can't have been the most intelligent response. And then he was gone once more, explaining that he'd be late home if he didn't hurry, and his mum was expecting him. I watched him go, daydreaming once more, and was startled out of my reverie by the nasal voice of the rent-a-nerd who'd shown me around the school the previous day.
 
"You don't want to be seen too much with him, Tom," said the boy, whose name I hadn't even tried to remember.

"Why not?"

"Well, he's.. you know!"

I didn't know, and didn't have the chance to ask, because the other boy was soon gone himself. I was left alone in what suddenly seemed like a very empty corridor. I stood thinking for a minute, and then it occurred to me that "you know' might just have meant "gay'. I held myself back from fantasising that it might be true, but only for a few minutes. Then it was daydreaming all the way back to my new house, then all afternoon and half the evening, sat at my desk failing to work as I stared out of the window. Every so often a boy would wander down our street past my window, but none of them were Brian. That night my daily fantasy was filled with thoughts of what Brian might look like topless, or even naked. I imagined the soft, downy fuzz on his arms and legs. I dreamed of kissing his soft, full lips. And above all, I dreamed of slowly making love to him. It was one of the most amazing climaxes of my young life.
 
I woke un-refreshed from a night full of dreams. Dreams of Brian and nothing else. I stumbled sleepily around the house, so much so that my mum asked whether I was ill or not, and said that she thought perhaps I better stay home from school. At that suggestion, I perked up considerably -- I wasn't the world's biggest fan of school, but it wasn't that bad, and there was no way I was going to pass up the opportunity to see Brian again. I spent ages at my locker that morning, trying to find a reason to stay there until Brian turned up.

I was just about out of excuses not to go to my first class when he strolled up, flashing me a smile before delving into his locker briefly. When he'd got his books, we established that we both had history together first thing, and decided to walk to the class together, chatting along the way. He seemed a really nice guy, and I couldn't imagine any reason why people would want to stay away from him, even if they did suspect he was gay.

Walking into the class, I could see that the reception wasn't exactly friendly, though nor was it hostile. It was simply indifferent. People didn't notice Brian, and he didn't seem to notice them. He just put his head down and walked to the back of the class. I took one of the few remaining empty seats, the one immediately to his left, and when he saw me sitting down he smiled.

Throughout the day we had a handful more classes together, and by the time school was finished for the day we were firm friends. It amazes me to think back to a time when I could make friends in a day. Adult friendships are so much more complicated! Once again, Brian had to rush off, since his mum expected him to be home right after school. I was later to find out that this was because he had to look after his younger sister while his mum, a single parent, went out to work a night shift. But before he left, he'd already invited me to his house over the weekend, and I'd agreed.

I walked home on cloud nine, almost losing my way because I wasn't concentrating on where my feet were taking me. As it was, I found myself wandering through the park our house backed on to, and entering our garden through the back gate. I had to convince my mum that I had intentionally taken a walk through the park because it was such a nice day, and I think she just about believed me. I told her about Brian in the most restrained way I could -- she still wasn't aware of my orientation, and I wasn't about to start mentioning boys I fancied at school.

The weekend couldn't come fast enough for me. Though Brian and I had a few more classes together on Thursday and Friday, and spent lunchtimes together, we really didn't have enough time to satisfy me. Or him, it seems, because we spent an hour on the phone chatting on Thursday evening when he rang me out of the blue. My mum was just happy that I had made a new friend so fast, and I don't think she suspected a thing.
I went round on Saturday morning, following the map that Brian had spent a whole lesson drawing for me. It was a masterpiece, which I kept for ages afterwards. He always insisted that he couldn't really draw that well, but as far as I could tell he was a genius. I found the house with no trouble, and smiled to myself as I saw that it was laid out to exactly the same plan as my own, both having been constructed during my new town's economic boom several years previously. I knew the master bedroom would be at the back of the house on the right, that there was just enough room in the back garden to put in a small swimming pool if you were so inclined, and that there was a den downstairs that was almost inevitably the place Brian and his sister spent their free time.

The bell was in exactly the right place, and made the right sound. And before long the door was answered by a woman so similar to my mother that I wondered if I'd misread the map and just walked round the block.

"Hi, you must be Tom. Brian's not stopped talking about you all week," she said, stealing my mum's "friendly and welcoming' smile.

"Mum!" I could hear the embarrassment in Brian's voice before I could see his red-tinged cheeks.

He needn't have worried, though -- my heart was doing back flips in my chest to think that I had been the hot topic of conversation at his house for the last few days. I dutifully followed him up to his room, which was exactly the same one as I had in my own version of the house, and not decorated too differently. I'd been fortunate to inherit another boy's room when we moved in, so I didn't need to change the colour scheme at all. It seemed every young teenager in the town had the same idea. The walls were covered with posters of sports cars of all types, and pictures of sports teams -- you know, the usual stuff, nothing out of the ordinary. Brian seemed like just another nice kid, and I again wondered what he could have done that was so bad he was shunned at school.

We sat on his bed and talked about nothing for a while, before his mum came up and suggested that we do something with our Saturday rather than just sitting around the whole time. And so we ended up at the bowling alley. Neither of us could throw the damn things straight to save our lives, but we seemed to both appreciate the comedy of the situation, dissolving into fits of laughter after almost every ball that landed in the gutter five metres down the lane.

We played around on the arcade machines for a little while after we'd finished our game, until Brian's mum came to pick us up. Back at their house I was treated to a really good meal, Brian's mum turning out to be as good a cook as my own, and seemingly eager to please. It was getting fairly late by the time we were done, and Brian asked if I would like to stay the night. He said he had stuff I could wear to bed, and he could fold out his sofa for me to sleep on, so I didn't need to go home to get anything.

It seemed there was only one obstacle, however: Brian's mum. When he asked her whether it was ok if I could stay, she looked pained, as if it was a big issue between them. Excusing both of them for a couple of minutes, Brian's mum led him into another room to talk to him. I struggled to hear what was being said, but to no avail. Eventually, they emerged, Brian looking upset and shaken. He walked over to me, unwilling to make eye contact.

"My mum says that if you're going to stay here you I have to tell you something first, and see if you still want to stay."

I was confused. What could he possibly have to admit to me that would make me want to leave? I followed him to the den that I knew would be downstairs, and we sat down on opposite ends of the sofa, facing each other. Brian seemed unwilling to speak, but I decided that prompting would probably only make things worse, so I waited for him to compose himself.

"Tom, I have to tell you something before you stay the night. If you don't want to stay, I'll understand, and my mum will take you home. I hope we can still be friends."

With that, he seemed to retreat back into his shell again for a while. Eventually, the suspense was killing me, and I tried to lighten the mood and encourage him to speak.

"Come on, Brian, it can't be that bad. You're not dying are you?"

He just looked at me, his eyes on the verge of welling up with tears, and suddenly let it all out in one go.

"Tom, I'm gay, ok? That's why the other kids at school didn't want you to speak to me and be my friend. My mum made me tell you because my old best friend's mum found out and stopped him seeing me. Now my mum makes me tell anyone who's going to stay the night in case it bothers them."

He really was crying by this time, but continued to speak.
 
"It's ok, you can go now if you want, I don't blame you. I didn't want to be this way, but there's nothing I can do about it. I lose all my friends this way," he said between sobs, and buried his face in the crook of his arm.

I felt a massive surge of sympathy for him, and got up off the sofa to move closer. He felt the weight shifting and looked up at me, the sadness tinged with a little anger.

"Go on, just go and leave me alone!" he wailed.

I just moved closer, and said in the softest voice I could manage, "No."

Brian's face came up slowly once more, and his eyes searched mine.

"You mean you don't mind?"

"No, Brian, I don't mind."

"And you're still my friend?"

"Well," I said, boldness sweeping through me like never before, "I'd kind of like to be more than that, if that's ok with you."

The look on Brian's face was priceless -- confusion scrunched his features up. I wouldn't say he looked ugly, but he was certainly not his most beautiful right then. I couldn't stand to see him trying to work out what I meant, so I leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the mouth. The confusion was swept away, replaced by joy as Brian jumped up and grabbed me in a bear hug. It was then I noticed his mum watching us from the foot of the stairs. She smiled at me, before turning and leaving us, closing the door behind her.

My dreams were full of Brian. I imagined the soft kiss we had shared. I imagined that we hadn't been too shy to do anything more than cuddle each other when we went to bed. I imagined we'd been brave enough to change into our bedclothes in front of each other, so that I could have seen his wonderful form. Then I dreamt we woke next to each other, arms and legs intertwined. Except that when I thought about it, when I became properly aware of my surroundings, I realised that the last part wasn't a dream at all. Brian and I genuinely were that close.

I could feel the light pressure of his arm draped over my chest, and his knee somewhere about my groin, in very close proximity to my morning hard-on. I needed to pee really badly, a fact which was exasperated by the pressure of his knee on my lower abdomen, and so I very carefully extracted myself, trying not to wake him. I made my way to the bathroom to relieve myself. When I was done, I stood looking at myself in the mirror.
I did this every morning, but this time there was something different there. There was a spark in my eyes, replacing the slightly dead part of my soul I was used to seeing. I smiled, realising that it was the companionship I'd been blessed with that had made the difference. Perhaps this new town would be better than all the rest.

Walking out of the bathroom, I almost ran headlong into Brian's mum, who gave me a strange smile before walking past to take her morning shower. It seemed she wasn't upset that I'd stayed the night, and also seemed quite happy with Brian's choices. I didn't know what my parents would say when I told them, but I figured it would have to be soon, especially if Brian and I were to be a couple.

Walking back into his room, I noticed he had woken. When he saw me coming in, something like relief flashed across his face, and he held out his arms to me. I could hardly refuse, so I joined him on the bed in a big hug, interspersed every so often with a sloppy kiss. I could feel his boner poking into my leg, and when I pointed this out, he started to panic. I laughed and told him it was ok, and that I didn't mind. Truthfully, I was very far from minding. I craved to touch it, to feel it, to absorb its warmth. It didn't feel much bigger than my own, and that was only a little over four inches. Perhaps finally I'd found someone else who was as undeveloped as myself.

I didn't have the chance to find out, though, as before long we were taking our showers and heading down for breakfast. I didn't have clean clothes to wear, so I borrowed some of Brian's, which fit me quite well -- they were a little large on him, a little small on me, but overall not bad at all. It felt nice to be wearing his stuff, like we were close enough already that we lived in each other's clothes.

It was difficult to eat with such a vision of perfection sat across from me. I don't have a clue what we ate that morning. It could have been mud for all the notice I took. My eyes were riveted on his face. Occasionally, Brian would look up, notice me watching him and smile that smile of his. It melted me on the stool. I actually forgot to close my mouth and drooled slightly before I regained my senses. I'm sure I heard his mum laughing somewhere off to the right, but she could have been in Japan for all I cared.

Sunday was a blur. I know we talked, and played around in his room, and I certainly remember more than a little kissing went on, but all too soon it was time for me to go home. His mum gave me a lift -- it was a fifteen minute walk, and a slow drizzle was falling that would have soaked me had I travelled on foot. Brian and I sat in the back of the car holding hands, grinning like idiots and occasionally breaking out into random fits of giggles for no apparent reason. I could see his mum looking in the rear view mirror at us, and noticed that strange smile again.

We spoke again on the phone that night. We'd been apart for only two hours, and yet we managed to find another couple of hours of things to say to each other. The next day at school, when we could find a little privacy, Brian gave me the picture he'd been doodling while we were on the phone to each other. It was a sketch of me and him kissing surrounded by a heart. It was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen, and I took the risk of giving him a hug. Luckily we didn't get caught.

I soon became included in the treatment that Brian received from the other kids. We weren't taunted, we weren't bullied, but nor were we included in anything. Rooms would go quiet when we walked in, and the noise would return at a much lower level after an awkward silence.

Not that we cared, because we had each other. Every spare moment we could spend together we did, sitting far too close for just friends. It must have been fairly obvious to the other kids what was going on, though thankfully nothing was ever said explicitly. Eventually, the attitude of a few of our more informed and mature colleagues changed slightly, and we at least got a few encouraging signs from people who clearly wanted to be our friends, but were still afraid to be associated openly with us. We even managed to make one of the quieter boys in the year open up to us.

Daniel was always pretty much ignored by the rest of the year, possibly because he was actually only 12 but had been advanced a year for being clever. Of course, that should have meant he simply hung out with the kids his age, but he never did. One lunchtime, Brian and I were sat on a low wall which ran alongside a basketball court in the school grounds, chatting quietly and watching all the different cliques in the playground. We'd seen Daniel sitting on the opposite wall, occasionally glancing in our direction nervously. Brian and I eventually decided to go over and talk to him, figuring that he was all alone and being seen with us couldn't make things any worse.

He nearly ran when we approached. You could see his legs tensing, his hands on the wall ready to push away, but we didn't give him the chance. It's not like we were overly aggressive about it, but he had been watching us not too surreptitiously for quite a while and we were determined to find out why.

"Hey, Daniel," said Brian as we sat, one on either side of the nervous boy. "How's things?"
 
"Er, not bad, I guess," Daniel replied, clearly more nervous than ever.

"Is there something you wanted to ask us?" asked Brian.

There wasn't any menace to the question -- Brian sounded genuinely interested, and like he wanted to put Daniel at his ease, despite the fact that he was hemmed in.

"Um, no, I don't think so."

"Oh, right. We were just kind of wondering why you kept staring. But if you don't want anything, we'll be off."

Brian and I started to rise, and were almost ready to walk off when Daniel spoke.

"Um, guys, actually there was something."

"Yeah?" I said, turning back to him. Brian and I stayed standing for the moment.

"Can I... can I talk to you some time?"

"Now?" Brian asked.

"No, not now. Later. Would that be okay?" Daniel asked. His nerves were relaxed slightly,
but he was still visibly shaking.

"Sure," said Brian. "You know where I live, don't you? You're only over on McPherson Street, right?"

"Yeah, I know where you live. Shall I come over after school?"

‘Yeah," said Brian. "Come over about six and we'll talk."

When we'd moved away from Daniel, who was still seated on the wall looking a little shaky, I asked Brian if he knew what the boy wanted.

"I've got a fair idea," he said, with a sly smile on his face. I didn't need to probe further -- I had my own idea, and I was fairly sure it was the same as Brian's.

I wolfed down my dinner and made it round to Brian's for just after five, which left just under an hour to talk about what we would say to Daniel if he asked us if we were gay. Well, ok, we actually had about fifteen minutes after we'd said hello properly... Anyway, we decided to be honest with him if he asked serious questions. Put it this way -- things couldn't get any worse at school, so there really was nothing to lose by telling him that we were actually a couple.

Daniel turned up at six on the dot. I'd have put money on him having waited just round the corner until the time was right. Brian's mum was slightly confused to find another friend from school visiting within the space of a fortnight, but she did the usual friendly mum act to Daniel.

The kid, for his part, was too nervous to really notice whether or not he was welcome. He wouldn't make eye contact with anyone, and all his answers were mumbled. Eventually, it was pretty clear that he was uncomfortable, so Brian and I decided to take him up to Brian's room to see if he would calm down a little. We sat him down in Brian's office chair, and both sat on the bed watching as he plucked up the courage to speak.

I have to admit that he looked kind of cute there, legs not quite reaching for the floor and oversize shirt hanging off his shoulders. Thinking back, he was rather well dressed that afternoon, not like most of the kids in the neighbourhood who followed the scruffier the better philosophy. In excited, jumpy tones, Daniel finally spoke.

"Is it true what they say about you two? You know, that you're... well, you know!"

"What?" responded Brian. "That we're gay?"

Daniel's head came up sharply, with a combination of shock and a little panic in his eyes. But he nodded -- he had wanted to ask that.

"Yeah," said Brian. "We are."

As if to emphasize, he took hold of my hand. It was then that I realised that despite his confident exterior, Brian was actually as nervous as Daniel was -- his hand was sweaty and his grip a little too strong for just holding hands.

"Um, how did you find out?"

"We just decided one day," I said, making sure that the tone was sarcastic, but hopefully not mocking. Both Daniel and Brian gave nervous little laughs. At least I had lightened the atmosphere a little.

"You just know, Daniel," said Brian, after a pause to think. "You look at boys instead of girls. Sometimes you'll see a boy and he'll make your heart leap in your chest. You notice things about your friends that most people don't think you should be noticing. Like with Tom, I saw his eyes, and that was it."

I was a little taken aback -- I'd never really discussed with Brian what it was he liked about me, and here he was telling someone else. It was nice, I decided. And my eyes? Right then, I wasn't so sure that Brian was talking about the right person, though her reassured me later that he certainly was.

"So you two are like, boyfriends then?"

"Yeah, I guess we are," I replied, suddenly realising that was exactly what we were. It felt good.

"Oh," said Daniel, clearly disappointed.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Well, I was kind of not sure, and then I saw Brian, and I thought he was really good looking, and, well, you know..."

"You fancy Brian?"

"Yeah. Look, I'm sorry, I don't want to take him away from you or anything, Tom. Please don't get angry at me."

"Hey, it's ok, I'm not angry. Besides, I can see what there is to like about him."

Brian was blushing furiously by this point. I don't think he was entirely comfortable being talked about like this.

"So, um, what happens now?" asked Daniel. "You aren't going to tell anyone are you?"

"Not if you don't want us to," I said. "And besides, I think you better wait a while before being so sure you're gay. I mean, how long have you been having these feelings?"

"Since I was moved up this year and saw Brian. I guess that makes it a couple of months."
 
"Then you can't be entirely sure you're gay. Give it a while. Don't box yourself in just yet."
 
"But you guys are so sure," he said.

"Well, I am," I said. "I can't speak for Brian, but I started feeling this way a few years ago. I'm thirteen now -- I think it's a pretty sure fire bet that I'm that way inclined."

Brian nodded, indicating that he, too, was pretty sure about his orientation.

"Can I hang out with you guys at school?" I looked at Brian, and at exactly the same time we both nodded.

"Yeah," I said. "We could do with some more friends. As long as you can put up with being seen with us."

"Yeah, that would be cool. Thanks, guys. I've got to get home now -- my mum doesn't know I got out through my window. She thinks I've been doing my homework. She'll freak if she finds I'm not there."

We showed him to the door and out into the cool evening air. He seemed a lot happier leaving, and actually spoke to Brian's mum this time. She was just bemused by the small presence who had appeared fifteen minutes earlier and was now leaving again.
Daniel became a regular fixture hanging out with Brian and myself at lunchtimes. It seemed to help his confidence, and it also seemed that now he was seen by the kids his age to be hanging out with the cool older kids (I don't think our reputation spanned the age gap), they accepted him, and wanted him as a friend. Consequentially, we actually only saw him briefly at lunchtime and after school after about the first two weeks of hanging out with us.

So it was a bit of a surprise three weeks later when we were interrupted in the middle of something (ok, so we were kissing. Again. It's not a crime, you know...) by Brian's mum shouting upstairs that Daniel was there to see us. Readjusting ourselves to hide rather obvious tents in our jeans, we wandered downstairs to see what he wanted.

Brian's mum directed us to the den, saying that she was cleaning in the kitchen and living room, and the den was the best place for four boys to hang out.

"Four boys?" asked Brian.

"Yes," his mum replied. "Daniel turned up with a friend, and said he just had to see you if you were in, so I sent him down there and said you'd both be down in a minute."

Perplexed, we made our way downstairs, to find Daniel and another boy around his age seated on the sofa, whispering and giggling. When they noticed us, the boy with Daniel suddenly went very quiet and shy. Daniel, at least, was able to speak.

"Um, Brian, Tom, I'd like you to meet Ed. Ed, this is Brian and Tom."

"Right," said Brian. "It's very nice to meet you, Ed. I'm not quite sure what is so important that you had to come around and introduce us to him, though, Dan."

"This is what's so important," said Daniel, and he leaned over to his new friend and kissed him. Ed kissed back, and before long Brian had to clear his throat so the pair remembered we were in the room.

"Wow," I said. "Guess you found someone, then?"

Daniel didn't answer, he just grinned and nodded. I have to admit that both Brian and I had grins on our faces watching the two of them. Though we were only a year older, they seemed so young and cute. It certainly felt like Brian and I had been together more than just a couple of months -- we felt like veterans in the whole dating game.

For the first few months, we didn't need anything more in our relationship than the kissing and hugging, which we did on a fairly permanent basis while we were alone. But we were both horny thirteen year old boys, so something more was bound to happen sooner or later. I masturbated pretty much every night to thoughts of Brian, and the little I'd seen of his body, and I managed to get a confession from him that he thought about me when he played with himself.

It was a Friday night, this time at my place, that things finally went a little further than the kissing. To be honest, I think we were both aching for it. Brian had the night off from looking after his sister, and my parents were out, so we had the night and the house to ourselves. It started off pretty normal, watching TV and a couple of films, both in our night-time uniform of loose shorts and t-shirts, cuddled up under a blanket on the sofa. We'd both changed at different times, finding excuses not to see each other change, though we didn't realise at the time that we both desperately wanted to see the other one naked.

Under the blanket, with Brian cuddled into my back, I could feel his boner pressing into the bottom of my spine. It was driving me mad, just having it sat there and not being able to touch it. Eventually, I couldn't take it any longer, and turned over to face him. Immediately we were kissing, and this time, rather than putting both my arms around him, I let my right hand slide down into his crotch, and made a very blatant grab for his dick.

Brian moaned loudly as I made contact and my fingers closed around the hot rod of flesh that was gutting out of his groin. I broke the kiss and looked at his face for conformation. He nodded eagerly in answer to the unspoken question, and I continued, sliding my hand up until it was able to slip underneath the waistband and onto his flesh. I worked my way down to the junction of his dick and his body, feeling a few very light and wispy pubic hairs there. There were probably a few more than I had, but I wasn't too upset -- since I'd started going out with Brian, my development was really beginning to happen in earnest. I put it down to his good influence on me.

Brian's dick was just about the same size as mine, though without being able to see them both to compare, it was a little difficult to say. Thankfully he was uncut, like me, so I could play with his foreskin. I rolled it around between my thumb and forefinger, before slowly starting to stroke it up and down. At this, Brian tensed. I could sense he was seriously turned on already, and it wouldn't be long before he came, so I sped the pace up to match his excitement.

Sure enough, he only lasted for a couple of minutes before pumping a few shots out into my hand. His cum was thin and watery, not the thick stuff I had once seen an older boy shoot. I sniffed it, but wasn't brave enough to lick it up, so I just wiped my hand on my shorts.

Brian was totally out of it, lying on his back and panting. When he finally came round, he gave me a huge smile.

"Thanks, Tom, that was amazing. The best ever. Want me to do you?"

"Later," I said, with a grin, before leaning in for another kiss and a long hug. I really was falling in love.

"Later' turned out to be the next morning, though I was happy to wait for Brian to reciprocate. We'd fallen asleep on the sofa the night before, and I woke to the wonderful feeling of someone else's hand on my morning hard-on. I actually had to make Brian wait for a minute as I ran to the bathroom to relieve an aching bladder. That was almost a disastrous move, because Brian tried very hard to make me laugh before I made it, and I was in serious danger of having an accident for the first time in a long time when he shouted that I should make sure it was nice and clean when I was done.

When I came back, Brian had the blanket tucked up under his chin, and I smiled, thinking he looked so angelic there with his eyes closed and a half-smile on his lips. The illusion didn't last long, though -- clearly he knew I was there watching him, and grabbed me round both legs, causing me to fall forwards over him. Then he reached up and pulled my shorts to the floor, which of course meant that I was forced to try to get his clothes off. After all, it was only fair that if I was showing everything off to the world, so should he.
We wrestled around for a while, laughing hysterically, eventually shedding all of our clothes. Brian pinned me, holding my arms over my head and lying down on top of me, his now very hard dick poking into my groin. Though I could easily have overpowered him, I didn't really want to. Would you?

After a long, breathless pause where we just looked each other in the eyes, not saying a thing, Brian leaned in and kissed me. We kissed passionately for quite a while, and got the grinding motion going again. It was a whole new experience, feeling his skin on mine as we humped against each other. I could actually feel his foreskin being rolled backwards over the head of his dick, and a little smear of precum that felt cold as it dried.

I reached down to feel his shaft -- I remembered what it felt like last night, and I desperately wanted to touch it again. But Brian stopped me and shook his head, mouthing the words "my turn' before rolling off to one side. For the first time I got to really have a good look at his body, as he lay there and regarded mine.

There was hardly any muscle tone to his torso, which I thought was great. I'd always fancied skinny boys, and Brian was the epitome of that type. He had a slightly concave chest, and a bellybutton that was not an innie nor an outtie -- it was just flush with his stomach. His dick was gorgeous, though I would be inclined to say that -- it wasn't far from being a mirror image of mine. Of course, he was slightly hairier than me, but his dick was almost exactly the same size, with the same overhang of foreskin over the head. If anything, his balls were slightly smaller than mine, but I did remember that he shot a little more than I usually did last night. All in all, though, I wasn't complaining.
Nor, it seems, was Brian. He had my dick in one hand, rolling the skin around over the hard shaft below. I couldn't remember being this hard ever in my life before, nor could I remember leaking precum like I was. It was literally dribbling out, an experience which was totally new to me, since I usually only had a drop or two when I did this for myself. Brian picked some of it up and started working it into the foreskin as he slid it back and forth over my head. The feeling was beyond belief.

I'd love to give you an in-depth story of how wonderful Brian's first go at wanking me was, but to be honest it was total sensory overload time, and I don't remember much more before Brian was shaking me awake.

"Tom, get up! Your parents are home!"

Nothing can get you instantly awake like those words. We ran around, grabbing anything that would incriminate us, before dashing into my bedroom. Fortunately, my parents had taken a couple of minutes getting some shopping they'd done on the way home out of the car, so we had time to throw on our night clothes and pretend we just hadn't got dressed yet. We sat on my bed playing a video game, hoping that we looked innocent when my mum came in.

A minute later, mum was knocking on my door, and I shouted it was ok to come in. She gave us the usual parent thing about doing something useful with our day, but only really half-heartedly, before leaving us to it. I had an on-suite shower, so I told Brian I was going to get clean. He got a wicked look in his eye, and grabbed hold of me. I had a fair idea what he wanted, so I played along.

"Well," I said, "if you're not going to let go, I'll have to take you with me."

With that, I started trying to drag my way across the floor with a limpet attached to one leg. After a couple of minutes' struggle, we gave up the charade, and just got into the shower together. It was a bit tight, but I was happy to put up with being a little cramped if it meant we could be that intimate. It was fun washing every area of each other, and we both managed to stay calm enough to get all the important parts washed before we broke out into a frenzy of sexual passion. The soap kept our bodies nice and slick as we humped together, and before long I felt a shot of Brian's cum hit my nipple. We both saw it before the water washed away, and laughed at the shot. My own orgasm was dry, my balls having been drained earlier that morning, but no less intense for that fact.

The close call had been a little too close for my liking. That afternoon, I made a decision. I've always been one for snap decisions, though this would probably have more effect on my life than any other. You see, I'd decided to tell my parents. To come out to the most important people in my life.

Despite my instant decision, I didn't at first have the courage of my convictions, and it took Brian telling me how well things might go to convince me to go through with it. We decided that Brian should stay with me while I told them, in case I needed someone to hide behind. I knew my dad wasn't a violent person, but my mum's stares had been known to stop hardened criminals dead in their tracks and look at their feet uncomfortably, mumbling apologies.

We found them in the living room, my mum reading a magazine and my dad getting his weekly fix of motor sport action. I really didn't know how to start, so I just sat down in a chair while Brian stood to my left, and uttered the most trite and over-used line I could have used.

"Mum, Dad, I need to talk to you."

My mum looked up straight away, but it took her shoving my dad in the arm to get him to take notice. I think she saw how nervous I was.

"Yes, Tom?" she said, when I had the attention of both of my parents.

"Um, I really don't know how to say this, so I'm not going to mess around. Um, I'm not into girls."

My dad just looked perplexed, but I could see my mum's eyes widen as she realised what I was saying. Her gaze turned to Brian, and then back to me. By the time this had happened, my dad had caught on, and his mouth literally dropped open. I'd never seen anyone's jaw hit the floor before, but I swear if my dad's chest hadn't been there, his would have been on the carpet.

"You're.. you're gay?" he said when he'd regained muscle control of the errant jawbone.
I was paralysed. I couldn't say anything, I couldn't even nod a response. My parents had always been fairly liberal in their views, having been hippies when it was the in thing. They didn't hold any strong religious beliefs, either, so there was no spiritual reason that my being gay should be wrong. I think it was just a shock for them. Like most people, they thought that having a gay kid was something that happened to other people, and you read about it in magazines. They clearly never thought it would happen to them, but now it was.

"I...er, Brian, I think you ought to go home for a while," said my mum after a painful silence.

Brian looked at me before responding. I nodded, and so Brian left, mouthing the words "call me' as he went. I nodded again.

After Brian had left, the questions began to come. It appeared the floodgates had been opened, because I didn't stop answering them for about an hour. Of course, they asked about Brian, and I told them the truth. My mum asked us how far we'd gone, and I was thankful that my dad told her quite firmly that it was none of her business, even if I was gay. They asked if I was sure, and how I knew, which was a question I always expected -- the answer had been provided by a gay youth website, and was quite simple: I asked them how they knew they were straight. My mum even managed to laugh slightly when she realised she couldn't answer that for certain. It was strained, though, and I could see that she was deeply uncomfortable.

Eventually, I was told to go to my room for a while whilst my parents talked about the news, and how to deal with it. I wasn't about to argue -- I'd not been sent to my room for several years, but I was more than happy to be out of that room right then. I grabbed a drink out of the kitchen on the way past to wet my very dry throat, and headed into my room, prepared for a long wait.

I was surprised, then, that only about ten minutes later a knock came at my door. I shouted for whoever it was to come in, and was a little taken aback to find that it was my dad. He gave me a warm smile and sat down beside me on the bed. I figured he must have gone mad or something, because this certainly wasn't the response I expected from my macho dad.

"That's quite a bit of news, Tom. Are you really sure you're gay?"

"Yes! Why don't you believe me?!"

"Whoa, it's ok, son, you don't have to take my head off. It's just a bit of a shock. Can you see that?"

"Yeah," I conceded. "I expected you to be really angry with me."
 
"Well, your mum's a little shocked, and I think it'll take a bit of getting used to, but we're not angry. We know you didn't choose to be gay -- who would with the way you'll get treated by society?"

"Yeah, but have you seen Brian?" I said. That made my dad chuckle.

"Not really my type, Tom, but if that's what makes you happy..."

"It is, dad, it really is." He smiled at that, and gave me a one-armed hug. It made me remember all the times we used to spend together, the way he would protect me from the world when we were out camping.

"What do you think about it, though, dad?" I asked.

"I really don't know what to make of it, Tom. It's not like you're any different today than yesterday, and I loved you yesterday, so why should things change? I can't say it's the way I'd have preferred things to turn out, but then that's because I wanted plenty of grandchildren. Who knows, perhaps you could adopt..."

The last was said with not a little irony, but I knew my dad meant well. We sat there for a minute, not saying anything, but at the same time not searching for anything to say either. Eventually, my dad heaved himself up from the bed to leave.

"I think there's a thirteen year old boy somewhere near here who would like to hear how things went. Why don't you go and see him for the afternoon, give your mum and I some time to talk."

"Ok, I will. Thanks."

"That's ok. You want a lift over? It's a fair walk, isn't it?"

"It's only fifteen minutes. It's ok, dad, I want to walk."

"Ok," he said, with a smile, before leaving and shutting the door behind him. I fell onto my back on my bed and stared at the ceiling. I didn't know quite how to feel. Being totally analytical about it, I should have been happy that things had gone so well, but I was worried about my mum, so I was distracted. Grabbing a few things, I packed a bag ready to spend the night at Brian's place if I decided to give my parents even more time to get used to things.

Brian was at his door before I even rang the bell, with a guilty look on his face.

"I was looking out for you from my sister's room," he admitted as he led me down to the den. "So, what happened then? What did your mum and dad say after I left?"

I gave him the briefest run-down I could, including all the personal questions my mum had asked, and how my dad had got me off the hook.

"Yeah, my mum asked loads of awkward questions when I told her. Did they ask you if you're sure you're gay?"

"Yeah," I said, rolling my eyes heavenwards, "only about fifty times. I think they might believe me now, though."

"Well, the worst of it's over. You've told them, and your dad didn't go mad. You'll just have to get your mum to realise it's not that bad. Perhaps she could talk to mine."
"Maybe. I dunno."

We fell silent for a while. I think Brian could sense I wasn't in the mood for being talkative, having spent a lot of the afternoon explaining myself, so he suggested we go to the local skate shop, where he said he had something to show me. The shop was one of our favourite haunts, and we spent so much time there we were known by every member of staff, and even got a discount on some of the stuff and first dibs on the stuff that was about to be discounted. We both skated a lot, at a time when it wasn't really that fashionable to do so, so we often had the old concrete skate park to ourselves.
When we got to the shop, we went through all the greetings, seeing what was new with the two teenage lads who ran the shop at the weekend. Before long, though, Brian was dragging me across to the other side of the shop, holding my hand. The guys there knew about us, and had always been really cool. Brian and I both suspected they were a couple themselves, since they spent so much of their time together and didn't mind us being openly gay. We never talked about it with them, though -- we were far too scared we might offend them, I think.

Anyway, when we got to the far left corner of the shop, I found what Brian wanted me to see -- there was a rack of stick-on temporary tattoos, with loads of tribal designs and a few of the classic "skull-in-flames' types.

"Want to mess around with some of these?" Brian asked.

"I dunno," I said. "Aren't they sort of kids' things?"

"No way, man. Some of these are really cool!" replied Brian, excitedly looking through the designs. I had to admit there were some pretty good designs there.

"And besides," he added, "they don't have to all go on our arms or anything..."

The last was said in such a suggestive way that I couldn't possibly miss the meaning. It was that which made my mind up, and five minutes later we were leaving the shop with a brown paper bag containing quite a few of the designs. Back at Brian's house, we were fed by his mum, who was on her way out for the evening, having been asked out on a date by one of the men she worked with. As payment for our dinner, we were forced to help decide what she should wear, and I was sent into fits of hysterics by Brian really camping it up as he did his best fashion designer impression. He wasn't usually a macho guy, but this was so far from his normal demeanour I could almost see him as a different person.

Fortunately for us, Brian's little sister was staying overnight at a friend's house, so we had the place to ourselves, our second night alone in succession. We watched TV for a while, slowly getting each other undressed as we kissed and rolled about on the sofa. Before long, we were both stark naked, and not far from being hard.

I was quite ready for a bit of messing around, but Brian had other ideas. He jumped up and ran into the kitchen, his cute little dick leading the way, and his pert ass following. He came back with a bowl of water and some kitchen towel, and just when I thought things might be getting a bit kinky, he ran off again, only to return with the paper bag containing the tattoos. Then I realised, to my immense relief, what the water and towels were for -- the back of the transfers had to be wet for them to come off and stick to our skin.

Brian tipped the contents of the bag out on the floor, and lined them all up for me to look at.

"I'm going to put one on you first," he declared. "Which one do you want? I'll decide where to put it."

Looking through the designs, I spied the one which had really taken my fancy earlier in the shop -- a tribal design with rose vines intertwined through it, which I thought would look great on my arm. But Brian had other ideas. When I told him which I wanted, he ordered me to lie back, and went about positioning the tattoo right above my dick on my lower abdomen. It was barely further up than the top of my tiny excuses for pubic hairs, but if that was where Brian wanted it, who was I to argue?

He went to work applying it, making me flinch when I discovered the water was ice-cold, and laughing at my reaction. I had to admit, though, that it looked really cool where it was, and Brian would be the only other person to see it, since it sat just below the waistband of my shorts. Then it was Brian's turn to choose a design, and mine to place it upon his body.

I was getting seriously turned on by the game, and it was a good thing Brian had put the first tattoo in place when he had, or he might not have been able to get it stuck down behind my rock-hard shaft. I wasn't going to just copy Brian's positioning, though, so I had him turn over onto his stomach.

This gave me a perfect opportunity to look his body over, and I took it, running my hands up and down the soft skin of his back. He shivered in delight when my fingertips brushed the top of his crack, but I decided I wasn't quite ready to go there yet, and didn't continue to touch him there. It did give me an idea, though -- I decided to put the little devil cartoon character Brian had chosen right above his crack, on his lower back. You'd be able to see it when he wore Speedos for swim class, and I had a quiet chuckle at the thought.

Putting it in place, I made sure I used plenty of water to pay Brian back. I have to admit, the tattoo looked damn hot where it was. That was as far as we got with the tattoos that night, though. We were both turned on so much that we couldn't resist each other, and made out right there on the sofa. Our night was made even more perfect when Brian's mum rang to say that she had had a little too much to drink and would be staying at a girlfriend's house that night, leaving Brian and me the run of the house all night long.

Needless to say, we took full advantage of the situation, relaxing in the hot-tub in Brian's mum's huge bathroom, taking plenty of time (and a whole bar of soap!) to make sure we were both thoroughly clean. Happily, the tattoos were quite resilient, and stayed on perfectly throughout the whole experience. The last thing I remembered before falling asleep was holding Brian and thinking how cute he looked with that little devil over his ass as he stepped from the hot-tub...

The End