I know this sounds a little cliche on my part, but here it goes. I’ve known I was gay for a long time, probably back before I even knew what it meant. I guess I just never got a rise out of women like I did with men, or maybe it was because of the lack of a father figure in my life, but that’s another story to be told at a different time. I only just recently decided to come out to a couple of my most trusted and understanding friends. See, where I grew up, people in my community aren’t very accepting of homosexuals. It’s not like they’re religious or anything like that, I guess most of them just think it’s weird. It’s kind of a hick town where I live; guys with overgrown beards going on about their muddin’ and loggin’ adventures. My story is one where my darkest fantasies come true.
I guess I should talk about myself some, huh? I like to think of myself as a good looking guy, you know, not too muscular, but definitely not fragile or anything. I guess you could think of me as having a type of swimmer’s physique despite that even though I live on a lake, I still don’t swim much. (My mother said I take the lake front property for granted.) I’m short for my age, standing at about five-foot two, with not quite shoulder length blond hair and hazel eyes that like to change color with my surroundings, mostly weather or mood. I guess that’s why people who knew me could read my emotions like I was writing it all down for them and shoving it in their faces.
So, there’s this guy, (you know how it is…) who I’ve known for pretty much known for my entire life, who’s pretty much the most well known kid in my school of about fifteen-hundred students. Everyone knows him, and (I think) everyone likes him. Although he may not like it, he’s in the spotlight pretty much the entire time. I see the way other people act around him, trying to be all cool and want to be seen near him at all times. But over the past couple months of spending almost four and a half hours with him in class every other day, he’s getting kind of sick of it, shrugging off the mobs of people that come into our classroom daily just to be around him. I can tell he just wants to be left alone.
Did I mention he has a girl’s name? It’s Mackenzie, or just Mack for short. I can tell you one thing: he definitely doesn’t like being called Mackenzie. Well, anyway, like I said, I’ve known him for quite a while; he’s sweet, kind hearted, slightly dumb (hey, it’s cute.) and he always seems to know how to make me laugh, even in the worst of times. He’s not too bad looking himself if I do say so myself; with a mix of reddish brown hair, a clean shaven face, a great smile, and oh my god, those eyes! His green eyes always seem to be peircing right into your heart, melting your insides, the way lasers boil water. It’s not in a creepy way either. I don’t know if everyone else felt the same way, but every time we made eye contact, my troubles seemed to melt away, being replaced by pure happiness. I’ll admit, that when he’s not playing soccer, or on the high school ski team, he lets himself go over the summer, accumulating a tad bit of belly fat, which immediately disappears when he begins soccer in the fall, to reveal a well toned upper body, and almost-washboard abs. He’s just a few inches taller than me, at about 5’ 5”.
And oh man, there are some crazy rumors going around about him being a master in bed; hell, he even starts some of his own. He’s always talking about how his parents notice little things like red fingernail scratches on his muscular back, no doubt from a pleasurable night with his girlfriend, or like that time he told us about the box of spilled condoms in his back seat of his car. He had all the ladies chasing him, he could have any one of them all for himself. To say I was jealous of his popularity in my school was a bit of an />
For years I’ve been dreaming about getting out of the “friend zone” with Mack, admiring him from afar, not creeping, but stealing covert glance at him from over the top of my monitor, or listening in on his conversations, but I was certain he would never go for it. Not with me anyway. See, Mack’s one of those people that don’t know I’m gay. I hadn’t told him for fear it would ruin our friendship, being so fragile that it was. We hung out with entirely different crowds of people, not really spending too much time together outside our 4 ½ hour class. So, naturally I was taken completely aback when he offered a place for me to stay for the weekend at his place to get away from the stresses of my home life.
I being eager as I was to spend as much time as I could with the guy of my dreams almost had agreed too quickly to his liking, and he gave me a quizzical look. Since of the two of us, he was the only one with a license and a car, he would be the one driving us home from school on a drizzly Friday afternoon. We had barely exited the school’s parking lot when he had turned the conversation in an awkward direction, “So, have a he asked, keeping his eyes on the road.
I was surprised at the sudden interest in my love life, of which I had none, so I answered, “Nah, man. Most of the girls here are whores and sluts anyway.”
“I feel the same way…” he replied, trailing off.
But then I thought aloud, “What about your girlfriend? Leah, was it?”
He then answered tentatively, “Yeah, she’s cool and all, but she just doesn’t understand me, you know? The rain picked up, the wipers working furiously to clear a view in the windshield.
I sat for a while, not saying anything, staring out the rain splattered window, thinking about what Mack had just said. Was he getting at what I think he was getting at? No. It couldn’t be.
I had lost track of time in my thoughts and jumped when I realized where we were: his house. God, I hadn’t been here in years. It looked just the same as it had the last time I was here though, quaint. I unbuckled my seat belt and tried to push the car door open, but to no avail. I started to slightly panic, What’s going on here? “Oh, sorry, I must’ve left the child lock on for my little brother.” Mack apologized.
He stepped out of the car, went around the front and like a perfect gentleman, held the door for me, shielding me from the rain in the process. I mumbled my thanks, and sprinted to the front porch to avoid getting any wetter. Mack was right behind me, and lurched in front to open the front door. The door swung inward, allowing a blast of warm air to hit me in the face, welcoming me.
It was only three o’clock, and as a result, his parents or little brother weren’t home. He walked to the kitchen as I stood pacing the living room, admiring the wood paneling. I have to admit, the hardwood floors were just amazing to look at; probably clean enough to eat off of. He reached the kitchen and asked, “Want anything to drink?” And I replied with another question, “You got any Mountain Dew?”
“I know you can’t catch” so here you go.” He handed me a familiar green can, which I snapped open and immediately took a mighty swig.
“Follow me,” he said, leading me to his bedroom. I obeyed, taking my backpack and recently acquired soda can with me. As we neared his bedroom, questions arose in my brain, putting clues together one by one… He invited me here alone, he doesn’t really like his girlfriend, he helped me out of the car, and now we’re going into his bedroom! Could this really mean what I think it means?
We entered his chambers, and I threw my backpack into a corner. He started saying, “Yeah, so here’s your bed,” he gestured toward an entirely too large of a mattress for myself laid out on the floor. “I can get you blankets and stuff if you need them.”
Wait a second… This bed was set up here before we got to school this morning. That means he had this all set up way beforehand and knew I would agree to come to his place. Strange, I thought to myself.
I decided to shrug it off, and so we managed to fire off some rounds of Halo: Reach before Mack’s mother came home with Chinese takeout. She poked her head into the room carrying a deliciously smelling bag of fast food. “Oh, hi Stephen! I didn’t realize you were coming here tonight. I hope there’s enough food for you.” she said looking surprised. Her face disappeared from within the door frame.
I paused the game, and turned to face Mack, “You didn’t ask your mother if I could spend the night tonight, did you?”
“Well, no,” he replied sheepishly, “It was kind of a spur of the moment thing, you know?”
“Sure, if you say so,” I said to him, sarcastically rolling my eyes at the ceiling.
I got up to go to the kitchen and as a result, was almost pants-ed by Mack as he tried to help himself up off the floor. He did that on purpose, didn’t he? Whatever, I just shook it off.
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After dinner, we resumed our online matchmaking, and played for a few more hours, until Mack suddenly proclaimed, “I’m bored.” and proceeded to turn off the console. We played for longer than I had expected, as it was now 9:30, so I flopped down on the bed, getting ready for sleep. Mack stood and switched the light off. Returning to his bed, he slid under the covers.
It seemed like only a few minutes before Mack asked, “Do you mind… You know… If we share that mattress? This one sucks.” I agreed, jokingly saying as long as he wasn’t gonna do any funny business. (You probably guessed, I completely welcomed the idea.) My brain was going wild. Was he sending me signals? I’m notoriously bad a picking up signals and reading emotions. Mack slowly eased from under the covers of his bed, as if unsure whether or not to lie down next to me. To my relief, though, he did, and I shared the blanket with him too. It was a brotherly sort of thing, you know?
Then only a few minutes after we’d settled, he asked me another question, this time, one I wasn’t sure if I wanted to answer, “Dude, are you gay?” he asked me softly.
“That depends… Are you?” I asked playfully.
The next thing I wasn’t really expecting, so I sort of jumped when he said, “Does this answer your question?” He scooted closer to me on the mattress and began spooning me, hugging me under the blanket, with his rock hard boner pressed between my ass cheeks.
story by: macklover
Author: macklover
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