To Escape Family Vacations

“You’re really staying home?”

“Yup.”

“Why? Your family’s going on vacation and you’re just going to stay home?” Vicky asked as we walked down the high school halls toward our Trig class.

“Yup. Think about it. You know my family; would you rather spend a week with them on vacation or spend a week with the house all to yourself? Besides, it’s only Florida. I’ve been there three times. It’s really not all it’s cracked up to be; just a bunch of old people and alligators.”

“What do your parents think about you staying home?”

“They’re not happy about it. But I told them I didn’t want to miss the school, and I really don’t. It was one thing in middle school, but high school work is a bitch to make up, and getting advance make-up forms. I’d just rather not mess with it. Then my mom went into this rant about how this is our last chance to have a family vacation. I just tuned out and let her go on.”

We entered the classroom and made our way back to our seats. Brett, my best friend since birth Brett, was already back there. He always got in the class before us. Of course, he only had to cross the passing traffic of students, whereas Vicky and I had to walk from the English hall all the way down to the math hallway together—from one end of the school to the other.

“When are they leaving?” she asked.

“Tonight. They’re at home packing now. Paige stayed home from school to help. Of course, she was excited to miss school.”

I took my seat next to Brett and Vicky sat in front of him. She turned her desk to the side some, like she did everyday, so she could better face us. Brett was engaged in a conversation with someone on the other side of him.

“You know, it’s only two days of school you’d be missing. It is spring break. I can’t believe you’re not going.”

“I can’t believe those two days are Friday and Monday. How stupid is it to have school on Friday and that be the only day that week? Still, those two days would be a bitch to make up. That’s a lot of classes, hard classes. Besides, I have had perfect attendance all three years so far. I’m not going to ruin it at the end of my senior year. And come on, the house all to myself for an entire week. How could I pass that up? I rarely get to be home alone or do anything I want. Either my parents are home or I have to watch Paige so she doesn’t set something on fire again,” I argued.

The week would be bliss with no one else home. I was so excited.

“We should throw a party.”

Vicky winked as she spoke. I sternly shook my head.

“No fucking way. My parents would find out for sure. Do you know what people do at house parties? They find an empty room in the house to have sex in. Drunken teens I don’t even know having sex in my little sister’s bedroom is not something I need to expose her to.”

“Alright, alright, but Brett and I are definitely hanging out over there with you while they’re all gone.”

Brett turned to us at the sound of his name.

“What? Huh? What’s Brett doing?” he asked, anxious like a puppy.

“Hanging out at Evan’s while his family’s on vacation.”

“Well, duh! We hang out there while his family’s home.”

“Brett, Evan, and Victoria, am I going to have to split you three up? Every class period you three are in your own world. I’m amazed you have any idea what’s going on in here. I’m going to have to put you three on separate continents,” Mrs. Novak interrupted.

The lesson had begun. None of us even noticed.

Brett was just a freaking math genius and Vicky and I always got together to help each other with the lesson. Either one of us completely understood it or we both understood enough that our combined forces allowed us to always get our homework done. I had a C in the class, but at least I was passing. I couldn’t complain.

Vicky turned her attention toward the board with her desk still at an angle. I looked over at Brett. He was playing with his graphing calculator, making up his own equations and shit. I didn’t know how he liked math so much. It was alright, but definitely not a favored hobby of mine. But, I guessed if I understood everything as easily as he did, than I wouldn’t mind it as much.

I looked in front of Brett at Vicky. I had had a crush on her since the fifth grade. I was in love with her at one point. Finally, I just had the crucial realization that we would never be together. I always thought we’d look great together, she and I, and I still did. She wasn’t in to me and I could accept that. I wasn’t really into to her anymore, either, just still thought we’d be great together.

“Psst! Check it out,” Brett stole my attention back to him.

He held his calculator and I couldn’t help but burst out laughing as I looked at the graphing screen.

“That’s a nice pair of parabolas!”

Vicky turned her attention back to us and Brett showed her his equations.

“You made boobs on your calculator? What’s the world coming to when the smartest kid in class is creating his own graphing equations and making boobs?” she sighed, humored by his act.

“Brett, is there something you’d like to share with the class?” Mrs. Novak asked.

“Not really,” he replied, not able to stifle is laughter.

“Then I suggest you pay attention or work quietly on the assignment and stop bothering Victoria and Evan.”

“But I was helping th—”

“Brett,” she interrupted.

“Sorry,” he said and cleared the screen on his calculator before she could walk over and see it.

The class went on without any other interruptions. Mrs. Novak finished the lesson and I understood almost none of what she was talking about. She turned us loose to work on our assignment for the last five minutes of class. It was a long lecture. I hated those. That meant we didn’t get much time in class to work on the assignment. Thankfully, she let her students work with each other, chat quietly, and ask for help while we worked.

Vicky turned back to us and began to pack her books and notebooks in her backpack. We did the same.

“What time are they leaving?” she asked me as she pulled her long brown hair back.

“I don’t know. My mom said they’d stay home long enough to say bye to me, but that’s all I know. So, they may walk out the door as soon as I walk in, or they may still be there until, like, eight o’clock.”

“Give me a call when they leave. I’ll come over and we’ll work on this together while its still fresh in our white and grey matter.”

“Alright. Did you ever get your car fixed or do you need a ride?” I asked as I stood among the rest of the class and pulled my backpack straps on over my shoulders.

The class slowly migrated toward the door where they would stand for the next two minutes until the bell rang. It was a tradition that every class participated in.

“You guys always act like you want to leave my class or something,” Novak teased at the students herded around the door, ready to leak their ways into the hall.

Novak was a good teacher. I liked her. She just got frustrated with us, sometimes, when we wouldn’t shut up.

“I can drive over there.”

“So, when are we throwing a party?” Brett asked me, joining in the conversation.

“We’re not. Are you kidding? There’s no way I could get by with it. I don’t need a bunch of strangers trashing my house anyway.”

“You’re no fun,” he whined.

“Here, how’s this? We’ll ship your parents to my house for a night and have a party at your house,” I offered.

“Oh yeah, that’ll go over really well. ‘Hey, mom, Kyle, can you guys go spend a night at Evan’s house so we can throw a party here?’ ”

“You never know.”

The bell rang and students pushed each other out the small door into the crowded halls. We walked together for awhile until Vicky had to turn down the language hall to attend her French class.

She and Brett hugged and then she and I hugged. We always did when we split up. I kind of missed the times when those simple little hugs really meant something to me. A hug from her meant nothing more than the simple idea that she was my friend.

“Love ya, guys. Don’t forget to call me,” she demanded from me as she ran her hand through Brett’s short black hair after playing with mine during our hug.

“I won’t,” I answered and she turned to leave.

I sighed as I watched her walk away. I never could get over wondering the what ifs. It really didn’t matter. She really was nothing more then a friend to me anymore.

“I’ll see you later, man,” I told Brett as I entered the shop room and he kept walking down to psychology.

Thank god it was last hour. It was Friday, last hour, and I just wanted to go home. I was so tired. I hadn’t been sleeping well the past few nights. I had dozed off during a video in Literature earlier. Luckily, Vicky let me copy her notes over it.

After school, I just went straight home. I was hoping my family would leave, I could sleep for a bit, and then I’d called Vicky.

I got home, and like I had hoped, my family left shortly after. I said goodbye, hoped they’d all have a good time, and constantly reassured my mother that I would be alright for the week. I had a job, I had money, I had a car, and I had a couple of really good friends that’d come to my rescue should I need it.

I took a nap and woke up again around six. I called Vicky and she came out. We played around and worked on our Trig some before going out to eat. She left late and I went back to sleep. I couldn’t believe how tired I was.

Brett called a few days later, dying to hang out with me. I, of course, couldn’t refuse. I hadn’t seen him since Friday at school and it was Monday. I’d just been too busy and tired from work.

“So, how’s the bachelor life?” Brett asked as he invited himself in.

“Wonderful. I love it. I wish they would go on more vacations,” I answered, sitting on the couch, flipping through TV channels.

It was my third day at home, alone, and the first day of spring break. I absolutely loved it. There were no nagging parents and no annoying little sister. It was just me and my two best friends.

“That great, huh?” he asked and sat on my couch next to me.

I flipped through the TV guide, trying to find something to watch. I slouched down in the couch in a slightly uncomfortable position, but I was too lazy to move.

“Doesn’t your dad have a lock on the porn channels?” Brett asked as I clicked on a channel.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t hard to guess the code,” I replied with a smile and a wink and turned the volume up.

“You’re just now telling me about this? Shit, I have to come over more often now!” Brett answered and turned his attention to the nudity displayed on the TV screen.

We watched the bad acting and good sex of pornography movies and I felt myself growing tight in my pants. I ignored it and kept watching, hoping it’d just go away. That was stupid. What did I think would happen?

My hand crept down and I gently massaged myself through the material of my jeans. I straightened my back out at the feeling and stretched out a little. Soon, I couldn’t take it anymore. I plunged one hand under the waist of my jeans while the other worked madly at the button and zipper as I fondled myself.

“What are you doing?” Brett asked, finally noticing me.

“Jerking off,” I simply answered as I got my pants undone and exposed myself.

I sighed in relief.

I looked down at him and noticed his erection. I grew a little stiffer in my palms and looked back up at his face.

“You know I’m still sitting here, right?”

“Yeah, but I have a fucking boner. What do you expect me to do?”

I wondered if I should tell him the secret I’d been keeping to myself for awhile. I felt bad that he didn’t know.

He gave me a weird look and seemed a little appalled by my actions.

“Lighten up,” I told him. “It’s not a big deal. I have a boner so I’m doing something about it. Go for it,” I told him, encouraging him to do the same.

“I’m good,” he replied and turned back to the movie.

I leaned my head back and sighed contently as my hands worked. I had never done anything like that in front of him, but I didn’t see what the big deal was. We had crawled around in diapers together. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen that part of me or seen me with an erection. The only difference was my hand was there.

Still, I felt oddly guilty.

I looked over at him for a moment. He readjusted himself in his pants, but nothing more. I could tell he was thinking about it.

“It’s not a big deal. I know you want to,” I told him.

I was ashamed to admit to myself that I actually hoped he would. I grew even harder at the thought of it. I’d wanted to tell him for a long time, but I didn’t really know how. How could I tell him that I was masturbating to the guy on the porno? And, I was thinking of him.

When I realized that Vicky and I would never work together I came to the acknowledgement that although I did still have those feelings, they weren’t for her. I was gay and wanted nothing more than to have sex with my best friend who I’d played bumper butts with when we were still in diapers.

Brett ignored what I told him and focused on the TV. I looked at him for a moment, concentrating on the growing lump in his pants. Without hesitation I took my hand from myself and placed it on his crotch, squeezing gently.

His whole body stiffened as he looked down at my hand.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“Helping you,” I told him and moved a little closer so I could get my hand around him better.

I squeezed again.

“With what?” he asked, stiff and nervous.

I was glad he didn’t totally freak out. I didn’t think about it when I grabbed him. I just did it. I had expected him to get up and leave. But, hey, free hand job. I guessed he couldn’t even turn that down.

“Your fear of pleasuring in front of me,” I breathily said.

I squeezed again and moved closer. Both hands were at his crotch fighting with his belt. He was still stiff and nervous. He didn’t know what to think, but he let me continue.

“It’s not a big deal,” I told him, trying to relax him.

I moved even closer, sitting against him, and kissed his neck as my hand stroked his bare erection. My other hand grabbed his and directed it to my unloved flesh. I had left it to please him. I was surprised when I he allowed me to continue.

I massaged him with one hand and made him rub me with the other.

“It’s not a big deal,” I repeated, whispering in his ear before sucking on his neck again.

My hand was still wrapped around his, encouraging him to rub my swollen flesh. I had craved for his touch for so long and was finally getting it.

His hand moved voluntarily and I thought I heard a moan rise from him. I returned both hands back to him. I pulled my lips from his neck and moved my head down to his lap with an inviting mouth, tasting his forbidden fruit.

I felt kind of guilty using him like that. I had told him without actually telling him. It was more like I showed him. It was my first actual gay experience and I was glad it was with him. I had made-out with guys before and fondled, but never anything quite that far.

His hand wrapped around me tighter as I suppressed my gag reflex and swallowed.

I stood in the kitchen, washing my mouth out with a little water. I had left Brett in the living room on the couch alone. He looked confused and lost and I was worried. I faced the sink, looking out the window above it as I gargled the water.

“We don’t have to tell anyone,” Brett’s voice came from behind me. I spat out the water in the sink and turned to face him. “It was a onetime thing. Nobody else has to know,” he continued, almost begging and ashamed.

“You’re right,” I reluctantly told him.

We didn’t have to tell anyone, but I had to face that it was just a onetime thing. I could handle. I had to.

Brett turned and walked back into the living room. I followed him and we sat on opposite ends of the couch, silent, with the TV off.

“I’m not gay,” he spoke up after a silence.

Another silence followed. I didn’t look at him and I didn’t think he’d looked at me.

“I am,” I finally said, breaking the barrier of another silence.

It had been so long since he made his statement, mine must’ve seemed completely random.

“What?” he asked and looked at me.

“I’m gay,” I quietly told him. “I’m sorry. When I stopped liking Vicky it was because I started liking you,” I continued.

“Wait, what?” He processed what I said. “You think because you’re gay you can fuck around with me like that?” he asked harshly. “Were you planning that all along? Because, you know, it really freaked me out!”

He was mad at me. We’d only ever gotten into two fights and both were resolved by the end of the day.

“Brett, I’m sorry. I didn’t really mean for any of it to happen,” I quietly told him, ashamed.

“I can’t believe you just used me. I thought you were one person I could always count on to be honest with me and not deceive me like that. I was really freaked out, but now I just see it was just one of your sick little games. I can’t believe I let you do that! I can’t believe I did that! I’m out of here.”

Brett aggressively stood and stormed toward the door. I jumped off the couch and ran in front of him as fast as I could, blocking his way to the door.

“Please, don’t go,” I begged. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t say anything, just kept walking. I stepped into him and forced my lips on his. I quickly wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close. I roughly kissed his lips and forced them apart as my tongue attempted to dance with his.

I had to kiss him. I needed it more than anything. I had kissed his neck and other parts, but I needed his lips, his source of life.

Brett pushed me away and I fell to the floor, losing my balance. I looked back up just in time to see the door slam shut after him.

That could’ve gone better. It was definitely not how I was planning on telling him I was gay.

I cursed and brought myself to my feet. “He sure as hell wasn’t complaining when I was sucking his cock,” I quietly said to myself.

I walked back to the living room and looked at the couch. Shit, I really needed to clean that before it stained. It wouldn’t be much fun explaining to my mother where that odd stain on her new couch came from.

I let myself fall on the couch beside the stain. I slouched down and thought about the friendship I had ruined. I grunted as I kicked over the coffee table in front of me. Luckily, it didn’t have anything breakable on it. My mom would’ve had a fit.

I jumped to the side a little as my pants started vibrating. I hated my cell phone. It always freaked me out when someone called me. Of course, I supposed I could take it off vibrate. I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened it, looking at the screen before answering. It was Vicky.

“Hey, are you okay, Hun?” she asked after I greeted her.

“No,” I told her. “Can I come over?”

“Why would you come over here when I can go over there and we can be alone?” she teased.

“Fine, I don’t care,” I told her.

I wasn’t mad at her and I wasn’t mad at Brett. I was mad at myself and at the situation. He couldn’t tell me he didn’t enjoy it. He was definitely enjoying it once he relaxed. He didn’t just seem to enjoy the receiving, but the giving as well.

“Okay, I’ll be there in a flash,” she answered and hung up.

I sat on the couch for a moment. I bit my phone as I thought. It was an old habit of mine. I put my phone back in my pocket and ran downstairs in the basement to get some carpet cleaner and a scrub brush for the couch. It’d have been just as much fun trying to explain that stain to Vicky as it would’ve been to my parents.

I scrubbed the couch and admired the spot before running back downstairs to put away the cleaning agents.

“Evan?” Vicky called as she walked inside.

“Here,” I answered back, ascending the basement stairs.

She met me halfway across the kitchen and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her in tight for a hug. I held her for a moment as she gently rubbed my back and her fingers twirled my hair at the back of my neck.

“What’s wrong, Hun?” she asked as I pulled back.

I wanted to tell her, but I didn’t know if I should. I didn’t think Brett wanted anyone knowing, but certainly it would be alright if Vicky knew. We’d known her for so long. It had been us three since I could remember. We always told each other everything. I felt rotten about keeping my sexuality a secret from them for so long.

“Brett hates me,” I told her and pulled back a little more to sit in one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

She followed my lead and sat opposite of me.

“What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

“I’m gay and he hates me.”

I knew my word choice was bad. I made it sound as though he hated me because I was gay.

Vicky didn’t know what to say as she processed my confession.

“You’re gay? But, I thought…” she trailed off in thought.

“He hates me,” I muttered again, bringing her back to reality.

“Because you’re gay? No, that’s not Brett. What happened?”

I proceeded to tell her the entire story. I told her about the porn, masturbating with him sitting next to me, giving him a blowjob, and finally about telling him that I was gay. She refrained from asking for more detail. I knew she wanted to.

As upset and angry as I was I felt an odd sense of relief. It was nice to finally tell someone what I’d been hiding for so long. I had told my two best friends I was gay and not only that I was gay, but that I had feelings for Brett.

“Wow,” she muttered, taking everything in.

I knew she was picturing the whole thing. Vicky once informed us gay guys turned her on. I laughed at the irony back then. She was probably mad at me I didn’t invite her to watch, or at least that I wasn’t more descriptive in my story of what happened.

“You’re really gay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I simply told her.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I don’t know.” I really didn’t know why. I couldn’t think of any reason. “It doesn’t matter. Brett hates me now anyway.”

“Well, Hun, I’m sure that did freak him out quite a bit only to find out that you weren’t freaked out at all. He might think you set the whole thing up just so you could, well, get in his pants. You’ve known Brett longer than I have, but I’ve still known him for a really, really long time. I’m sure he doesn’t hate you. I’m positive he doesn’t hate you. He just needs some time to think.

“Think about it if it had been the other way around. I know you’d be freaked out. You just did some naughty things with your best friend only to find out he’s gay and enjoyed everything a lot more than he should have. First of all, you’re going to be mad he didn’t feel didn’t feel he could trust you and that he didn’t tell you he was gay before. Secondly, you’re still going to be quite freaked out about what you and he just did, whether he’s gay or not. And thirdly, it’s going to seem like he set everything up as a trap and he used you.”

I thought about everything she said. She made a lot of sense. It was bad timing, all of it. To Brett, it just happened. It didn’t mean anything and never would. It was just an experience he had that he would never bring up again. It was as if it didn’t happen as soon as it was over. But, to me, it meant something. As soon as I let him know it meant something to me, it was no longer something that just happened. Suddenly, it was planned just so I could, perhaps, turn him, so to say.

“What should I do?” I asked, desperate.

I couldn’t stand the idea of losing Brett. I didn’t care if I didn’t get to do that with him again, I just needed him to be my friend. Our parents where friends before we were even born. I’m a month older than him and we’d been together since that stormy night he was brought into the world. There was no way he couldn’t be in my life anymore. It wouldn’t be right! I couldn’t even imagine it.

“I don’t know, Hun. I guess just give him a day to calm down and chill out,” Vicky suggested, trying to help.

“Do you think he hates me?”

“No, he doesn’t hate you. He’s just a little freaked out. He doesn’t hate you, though. Come on, let’s watch some TV or something,” she offered and stood.

I stood with her. I hoped she was right. I hoped she wasn’t just saying he didn’t hate me to make me feel better.

“Just no porn, okay?”

“I don’t know if I can agree to that. Any gay porn on there?” she asked, teasing.

I couldn’t tell how serious she was when she asked.

“Vicky,” I sighed and playfully hit her in the arm.

“You know, I always knew you liked me,” she informed me as we sat on the couch together, avoiding the wet spot. “Well, until you started liking Brett, I guess. I knew you didn’t think I liked you, but I did. I was just afraid of screwing up our friendship. I was actually thinking of asking you out soon, but I guess that’s not happening.”

I snickered at her comment. “Were you really?” I asked, not believing the absolute irony. She nodded with a smile. “You’re a little late, I’m sorry,” I continued, still laughing a little.

“Well, you know, if the whole gay thing doesn’t work out. I’m still here.”

I was still upset about Brett, but Vicky always knew how to make me feel better. I loved her and Brett so much. I would’ve been nothing without them. I couldn’t even imagine life without them.

“So, seriously, about the gay porn,” she said as I turned on the TV.

“We’re not watching gay porn,” I told her, laughing as I scrolled through the guide.

“Aw, come on, I know you’re into it,” she whined.

I just laughed at her again. I loved her to death, but I had had my fill of porn for the day. I settled on a movie that had just started and we settled down in the couch, relaxing.

“We’re definitely checking out the gay porn before your parents get back,” Vicky informed me as she leaned against my side and laid her head on my shoulder, holding my arm close to her.

It was amazing how close we were. How close all three of us were. Well, I guessed Brett and I weren’t anymore.

I sighed and looked at Vicky with her head resting on my shoulder. Why couldn’t she have told me that stuff a year ago? I guessed, it probably wouldn’t have made any difference in the long run.

I leaned my face down to rest on her head, pushing my cheek up and closing my eye some. We watched the movie like that and afterward she left after I assured her that I would be alright.

I made something to eat and my mother soon called to check up on me. I, of course, told her nothing that had happened. As far as she was concerned, everything was fine, the house was still standing, and I was having a great time—as were they in Florida. Suddenly I wished I had gone with them. None of it would have happened with Brett and we’d still be friends. I got off the phone with my father, seeing as my mother let me talk to him for a bit, took a shower, and went to sleep. It wasn’t late, but I was tired and I had to work fairly early the next morning.

I was a dish washer at a restaurant. It wasn’t a glamorous job, but it wasn’t bad. It was a job, to say the least. I worked with some pretty cool people and my job wasn’t hard. It got tiresome sometimes and discouraging as washing dishes was a never ending task in a restaurant. The pay was fairly good, I got free food and my family got a discount. I could usually get Brett and Vicky a discount, too.

“Hey, Evan, how are you?” one of my coworkers asked.

He was a really nice guy and always asked everyone that when they came in. I enjoyed working with him. He was funny, friendly, and cute. It would’ve been better if I had a crush on him. Or course, I had to be stupid and ruin things with Brett.

“Don’t ask,” I grunted and made my way back to the employee room to hang up my jacket.

I was feeling a little better about the whole thing than I had the previous day, but I still missed Brett. I couldn’t stop thinking he hated me.

“That bad, eh?”

“Pretty bad, yeah,” I told him and pushed past to the sink and ever-growing stack of dishes.

I was the first dishwasher scheduled for the day, but I wasn’t scheduled to come in until a half hour after the restaurant opened. I hated when they did that. There was a giant stack of breakfast dishes I had to catch up on. If I could’ve come in when we opened then I would’ve been able to keep up with the dishes as they came back to me.

It was a lonely job sometimes, but at the time, I just wanted to be alone. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone there. I couldn’t get what happened the day before with Brett off my mind and the only person I could talk to about it was Vicky. I stood in my little corner of the restaurant and concentrated on cleaning the crud and crust off of the plates and bowls.

“Hey, Evan, Brett’s here for you,” my manager came back to tell me after I’d been washing dishes for about three hours straight.

Brett and Vicky came to visit me at work often and everyone who worked there knew them.

“Brett?” I asked, surprised and anxious.

“Yeah,” he answered, dumbfounded, as I nearly dropped the plate on the floor.

“Can I—um,” my brain wasn’t working. I was suddenly so nervous I couldn’t think. “Um, shit, take a break? Just a ten minute break?” I asked, stuttering terribly.

“Yeah, sure, go ahead,” he said.

“Thanks,” I told him, smiling and wiped my hands dry.

I was so anxious to talk to Brett, but so nervous. He had come to me though, so that had to mean he didn’t hate me.

“Hey,” I eagerly greeted the black-haired boy as I walked out from around the counter. “Want a soda or something?” I asked when he didn’t greet me back.

“No, I’m fine. Can you talk?” he asked, unable to hide his nervousness.

“Yeah, I’ve got ten minutes. Let’s sit,” I told him and lead him to one of the back booths where there weren’t many people.

The hosts and hostesses only seated people in that area when necessary. It was mostly reserved for the employees when on break.

I sat across the table from him and waited for him to say something, anything. He looked around the room for a moment in thought. I looked at him, focusing on his definite facial features. His grey eyes, so big and full of wonder, his black hair, cut short but nicely styled, his lips, pink and slightly chapped, but nicely shaped and full, and his nose. I loved his nose. I wasn’t sure why, but it was cute and perhaps my favorite physical feature on him—well, aside from what I explored the day before.

“Evan, I don’t want to be mad at you. I’ve known you every day of my life. I can’t even imagine not having you in my life, but I can’t stop thinking that you planned everything yesterday. It was one thing that it happened, it was another that you said you’re gay, but then you said not only are you gay, but you like me. How do I get past that? It all seemed so perfect to have not been planned,” Brett said, slow and unsure, thinking of every word as he said it.

“It wasn’t. I swear I wasn’t planning any of that! I wasn’t even thinking when I…touched you. I’d change it if I could. I really would. But I only regret you having to find out that way. I have to be honest, I don’t regret anything we did, only that you had to find out like that. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Brett, I know you’re not gay, but I am and you don’t know what that was to me yesterday,” I told him, not thinking about what I was saying.

I was just blurting everything out and spilling my heart out to him. I knew if I watched what I said then I wouldn’t say what I wanted to.

I continued, “I stopped liking Vicky almost a year ago because I realized and understood that, yes, at one point I did really like her, hell, I was fucking in love with her at some point, but not anymore. I understood that I was just using her to hide from myself, hide from the fact that it wasn’t her I liked anymore, but that it was you. And I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it seem like an attack on you yesterday, I didn’t mean for it to even happen, but I can’t say I regret it. I don’t think you do either. I think you enjoyed it, and I don’t just mean what I did to you, or the physical part of it. I think you really enjoyed it.”

I shut myself up before I said anything else. I was starting to regret what I had already said. I looked at Brett. I couldn’t read his face. He didn’t seem to be mad, but he sure as hell wasn’t happy about it all. I hoped I hadn’t make things worse by saying all of that.

“What do you suggest we do about this?” Brett asked me. “I don’t want to fight about it, I don’t want to be upset about it, and I don’t want this to come between us.”

He really didn’t hate me. I was so happy he still wanted to be my friend. But I wasn’t sure asking me what we should do about it was the right move. What I wanted to do about it probably wasn’t what he wanted to happen. I didn’t want to ignore the fact that it had happened. I wanted to embrace it and take the steps for something like that to happen between us again. I could easily live with just being friends with him, but it would be so much better if we were more.

“I don’t know. I can’t say I’m going to pretend like it didn’t happen. I don’t think I can do that. I still want to be your friend, even if you pretend it never happened and completely deny what went on between us yesterday. We’ll never speak of it again to each other or anyone else. I told Vicky about it,” I confessed. “I’m sorry, I had to. We never keep anything from her and this wasn’t going to be any different.”

A short silence between us followed.

“Are we cool then?” Brett asked, emotionless.

“Yeah, I think so. I need to get back to work.”

We were cool with each other, but it wouldn’t be the same. Things would be awkward between us for awhile, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t spend any time with me alone for while.

We said our goodbyes and I went back to work. I was happy we had worked it out enough to know that we were still friends, but still depressed knowing things between us had changed tremendously. It was my fault, I knew it, but I still didn’t regret what had happened.

I went back to washing the ever-growing piles of dishes and went home at the end of my shift, taking some food home with me. I didn’t feel like cooking anything nor did I feel like going out and getting anything else to eat.

I sat home, in the lonely and quiet house. I had to admit, I was starting to get a little lonesome without anyone else there. I washed my dishes, hating the fact that that was all I had done all day and turned on my computer downstairs. I could play some games or something to pass the time. I really didn’t have anything else to do.

I got on the internet and checked my email and a few other things before mindlessly surfing for games. I found some stupid little game worth spending a little time on and began playing. I spent the night alone and bored. I hadn’t realized how boring it would be without anyone else home. Of course, normally I’d be hanging out with Brett, but I wasn’t quite sure what was happening there. I didn’t want to call him and make him uncomfortable.

I woke around noon the next day and an hour later I was bored again and called Vicky to talk to her. I told her what had happened between Brett and I the day before at work and we chatted about other things.

“Hey, hold on a sec,” I told her as I heard the doorbell upstairs ring.

I went upstairs and made my way to the front door with the phone still attached to my ear, wondering who it was. I peaked out the window.

“Hey, I’ll talk to you later, Vicky. Brett’s here,” I quickly told her.

The doorbell rang again as I stood on the other side of the door.

“Oh, okay, good luck. I’ll talk to you later. Love ya, Hun,” and she hung up.

I closed my phone and slid it back into the pocket of my jeans. I took a deep breath and answered the door. I couldn’t believe Brett was ringing the door bell. He never rang the door bell, neither did Vicky.

“You rang,” I observed in a questioning manner.

Things had definitely changed between us.

“Yeah, I did,” he answered almost ashamed that he had. “I was thinking, I mean, I know things are going to be a little different, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still hang out, right?”

I smiled as he said that and moved to the side to let him in. I closed the door behind him and followed him into the living room.

“Wanna go downstairs?” I asked, not sure what else to do.

I didn’t really feel like being upstairs. It was too much of a family room and there was no family there. It was just Brett and me. Besides, I’d done enough damage to the couch upstairs with Brett.

“Sure,” he replied, uneasy.

I could tell he was nervous about being alone with me again. I was glad he was willing to be, though. He wasn’t completely put off by what I’d done to him. But it really wasn’t just me. He had a part in it, too. Sure, the stain on the couch came from me, but he caused it to occur.

“Foosball?” I asked as we stepped on the thick carpet of the finished basement.

“Sure,” he replied, shrugging, and followed me over to the foosball table we had in the basement.

I stood on my side, controlling the little plastic men with the red helmets and stripes going down their mermaid bodies while Brett controlled the blue. Since we got the table, I had been red, and he was blue. Vicky just took whatever side was left. She didn’t really care which color she was. She liked to joke that she played for both teams.

It was an intense game and perhaps the most intense one we’d ever played. It seemed we were actually competing rather than having a friendly game to pass the time and bond.

The ball touched the table and our hands worked madly at controlling it and manipulating and using it in our favor. We both seduced it, beckoning it with our Siren-like calls in the hopes it’ll follow our path to salvation in the other’s goal. We didn’t speak, but our pants and grunts of frustration made our intentions clear.

It was a long time before either of us scored and we’d even managed to flip the ball off the table. We were both starting to break a sweat and were panting excessively from concentration when the little white ball made its way into my goal on the court, giving Brett a point.

He moved the little counter piece on the side of the table, making his point official, and gave me an odd look. I took the ball from the pocket and placed it back on the table, determined.

Hands flew. Eyes followed. Little men spun. The ball went back and forth and back and forth. My mouth watered at the thought of victory as the piece neared his goal.

Go. Go. Go. Go!

I chanted silently.

He knocked it back just in time, denying me of my point. It was nothing more than a tease. I was so close to the edge I could feel it. He wouldn’t allow me the simple pleasure.

It was a swirl of red and blue against green with the little white blur. All of my attention was focused on the little men and the ball. I could think of nothing but the game and how well Brett played. His strong hands gripped the handles of the bars protruding from his side of the table. He was so good with his hands. God, he was so good.

I neared him again, demanding entry. I forced the piece to his side, watching the white blur brush by his men. A quick, sharp twist of my wrist to thrust the ball and send it hurling toward him.

Go. Go. Go!

It went.

My knees gave a little at the pleasure. I marked a point on my side and forced myself to keep playing. It wasn’t over yet. It wasn’t over by a long shot.

Brett grunted in frustration as he unknowingly knocked me in his own hole. I took a deep breath in the short break of time between the ball being deep in the pit and back on the playing table. It began again.

Sweat came down the side of my face and tickled the skin just in front of my ear. The table shook violently as we worked on it, practically thrusting at it. The ball went back and forth and back and forth, nearing the goals with terrifying closeness. I quivered and bit my lip.

He grunted and then I grunted.

I finally realized what we were doing. We were not playing foosball. We were not fighting. We were having sex through the foosball table.

“Oh, yes!” Brett shouted as the ball went in my goal, only proving my point.

I had lost my concentration with the game as I realized what was happening. I had been so distraction by the game and hadn’t realized. I hoped the table hid it from Brett’s view. What would he think if he noticed my hard-on from playing foosball?

I lost a point to Brett through the revelation. He was winning. I couldn’t allow that. He took no time in returning the ball to the table, and I fiercely fought with my hands to control my soldiers in the battle of sexual tension.

My pants became even harsher as I handled the poles. The little men moved and spun. I had trouble concentrating as I began to fantasize about my opponent. It was no longer a game of foosball, but rather an intense act and performance of dominance.

My grunts turned to be more like moans and my hips swayed a little more, provoking the shaking table. It thrust back. I watched Brett’s hips, wishing to be pressed against them rather than the stupid table.

An explosion of white erupted.

The ball was flipped out of the table, and we both raced across the basement to capture it and place it back in its cage, concealing it. I tripped over my untied shoe, and then he tripped over me. I laid on the carpeted floor and watched as he fell down on me. I was on my back and he crashed down on me at an angle with his head going over my left shoulder, his torso laying crooked on mine, and his legs coming out to the right of mine, just barely missing my crotch and the slight protrusion.

Everything stopped for a moment, but no longer. The world stopped spinning just long enough for us to both verify that we weren’t damaged or injured, and then it resumed with our undying laughter.

Brett rolled over and laid beside me on the floor, curling to the side with gasping breaths for air as we, quite literally, rolled on the floor, laughing. I wheezed and whimpered as I struggled for air and my side cramped. He did the same.

Eventually, the laughing came to an end and we lay on the floor together, panting harshly. I stretched out and got comfortable, deciding to stay on the floor for a moment. I couldn’t remember the last time I had laughed that hard. I looked up at the ceiling, wondering what he was thinking.

“I totally won,” Brett finally said, breaking the inviting silence.

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” I teased.

“Yeah, I would,” he replied and sat up.

“I say a rematch.”

I sat up with him and we both glanced at where the ball was.

“Alright, but I’ll get the ball,” he agreed and stood.

I watched him as he walked to the few more feet to attain the ball. He bent down and picked it up. I stood as he walked back past me to the table. I stretched again as I stood, listening as my young joints popped.

We played another game as old friends should, full of fun and laughter. The rough sex of foosball was gone and I had to admit, I was a little disappointed, but it was nice being his friend again.

Brett won the next game and as my punishment I had to buy him dinner. Those were always the stakes of foosball in my basement. The three of us often held little tournaments. We went out to a little fast food joint and ate, mindlessly conversing.

Things were back to being like they always had been. I wondered if he noticed the tension between us during the first game, if he felt the orgasmic rush flowing through the table and out with the ball. It was definitely the most intense game I’d ever played.

We called Vicky while we were out and she met us at the restaurant. They came back to my house and we hung out, watching movies and just screwing around like friends do. We eventually ended up combining the fight scenes from the Matrix movies to Michael Jackson’s dance moves. We had way too much time sometimes.

I had to work early the next morning and regretted staying up so late with Brett and Vicky. We were having so much fun; I just couldn’t bring myself to tell them that I needed to go to sleep because I had to get up early.

I survived through the day and by the time I got home I was no longer tired. I jumped in the shower, allowing the heat and water to relax me. I loved showers, they always felt so nice. I washed my hair and the rest of my body, letting the water run over me.

I stepped out and dried myself. I towel dried my hair and left it in a long spiky mess ascending from my scalp in every direction. I tied a small towel around my waist and made my way to my bedroom with nothing but the towel. Normally, I wouldn’t dare walk about the house without pants on, but since no one else was home, I figured it didn’t matter. It was my house for the week and, damn it, I’d do what I wanted.

I fought with the towel on the way to my room, not being able to get it to stay on it’s own, and finally gave up, letting it fall to my bedroom floor as soon as I entered the door, not bothering the close it behind me.

“Brett!” I said in surprise, as I turned to face my bed, and made a failed attempt to cover myself.

I didn’t know why it mattered. He’d done more than see that part of me.

Sometimes, his habit of inviting himself in my house wasn’t a good thing. That was one of those times. At least he was back to just walking in. I supposed that was good.

He just sat on my bed, staring at me as my hands tried to gather myself up and block his view.

“Wow, sorry,” he simply said and moved his eyes up to me. “I was waiting for you.”

“You couldn’t have called first?” I asked and tried to make my way over to my dresser.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen me nude and the other day wasn’t either. I didn’t know why it felt so weird then. We’d grown up together, bathed together when we were little, changed in front of each other at sleepovers, even after the awkward age of puberty. But there was something that made it different and slightly uncomfortable. I supposed it was the simple fact that I had come out to him about my sexuality and my crush. Not to mention, I was worried about getting a hard-on with him sitting on my bed, especially the way he looked at me when I had first entered the room.

“I was thinking about what you said,” he spoke to my back as I dug in my dresser.

I tried desperately to find a pair of boxers or something. I knew I had a bunch in there. Where the hell were they all when I needed them?

“About what?” I asked, confused.

What was he talking about? What did I say? Was it something I regretted? Was he about to make me regret it? Questions flew at my mind and I still couldn’t find any damn underwear!

“About you not regretting what we did the other day.”

I thought we weren’t going to bring that up again.

“I thought we weren’t going to bring that up again?” I asked, turning my upper body to face him.

“I just—I just wanted you to know that I…I didn’t, either. I didn’t regret it, either,” he spoke nervously and was unsure of what he said.

I turned to completely to face him. I was dumbstruck and awed. Did that mean he had enjoyed it?

“You didn’t?” I asked, surprised.

“No, I didn’t,” Brett answered, letting his shaky voice fade a little.

His eyes ventured down for a moment before locking with mine again.

He stood from my bed and walked toward me. I sharply turned back to my dresser, completely confused. My body stiffened a little and my hands got clammy. I couldn’t see him and didn’t know what he was doing.

I felt his warm, clothed body press against my entire backside and his arms came around in front. One arm wrapped around my stomach, pulling me even tighter to him and his other hand groped at my chest. I melted back into his touch, needing more.

My hands stopped searching my dresser drawer. It seemed pointless to find anything to cover myself with at that point.

“I was kind of hoping we could do something like that again,” Brett whispered in my ear.

His hot breath danced off my neck and his arm on my stomach crept down and gently massaged the base of my penis. It grew hard at his touch.

“What do you have in mind?” I asked, my voice a pitch higher than usual.

The black-haired boy thrust into my backside as his hand crawled around back and gently squeezed my ass. I took a deep breath and swallowed hard as I realized what he meant. I had wanted it to happen for a long time.

“You’re not just messing with me, are you? You really want this?” I asked.

I had to make sure. I couldn’t really see Brett wanting that, but it seemed that he did.

His face was next to mine, cheek again cheek, as he held his head over my shoulder.

“I want you,” he whispered.

My face nudged him a little as he pulled back and placed kisses on the side of my neck. He pulled his body away from my a little. His hand left my skin and I felt his fingers brushing me as he pulled on the zipper of his pants.

“You can’t pretend like it didn’t happen this time. It means something this time,” I warned, a little uneasy about the whole thing.

I could handle it the first time. It was my fault then, but if he was going to do something more, I couldn’t live with it if he didn’t acknowledge that it meant something. If he was going to push it, I couldn’t keep pretending it didn’t happen and that we were just friends.

“I won’t,” he breathlessly answered and pressed erection against me.

I stifled a moan, not allowing myself to give in until I knew he wouldn’t leave me brokenhearted.

“I want to know you know what you’re doing. I want to know you know that this means we’re no longer just friends. I want to know you understand I can’t go back from this and if we go through with this that you’re not going to leave me. I want to know that you’re not just horny and looking for a piece of ass to fuck, but that you really want me and you really want to be with me.”

“Oh god, Evan, I do. I want you, I want to be with you,” he panted with lust.

I heard a small clinking noise from the chain on his jeans as they fell to the floor. He pressed into me again, begging for entry, but I still refused it.

“You promise?”

I couldn’t stand getting hurt by Brett. It all seemed so strange but so right. We’d grown up together and there we were, standing in my bedroom, about to do unmentionable things.

“Yes,” he answered hurriedly.

Almost reluctantly, I leaned forward over my dresser some and grunted at the discomfort as he slowly pushed in. I braced myself and relaxed as he thrust.

We end up back on my bed, sweating, steaming, and sticking. I didn’t have to worry about the couch getting new stains, but my dresser was a different story. After catching up with my breath I looked at Brett. I wasn’t tired earlier, but I was then. I moved my nude body closer to his and fell asleep, laying against him.

When I woke, not even an hour later, Brett stood at the foot of my bed, pulling his pants back on and looking for his shirt. He took it off and threw it somewhere in my room among our passion. He looked a little freaked out, like he had a few days prior. I was afraid of that. I knew he would freak out after it happened. That was why I was so reluctant to let it, but one could only turn it down so much.

I hoped he wasn’t regretting it. I wouldn’t hold him back from anything, but I hoped he was sincere when he said he wanted to be with me.

He stood at my window, looking out. I got up, still nude, and stood behind him, giving him a hug.

“It’s okay,” I gently told him.

He turned to face me and hugged me back. I held him for awhile like that.

“How did you know?” he asked, pulling away some.

How did I know what? That I was gay?

That was why he had freaked out so much the other day. That was why he looked so confused and alone looking out my window. He wasn’t going to leave me. I wasn’t just a piece of ass to him. He freaked out because he didn’t know. I was sorry I had doubted him.

“I just kind of put the pieces together and figured it out. I questioned myself a lot and I hated myself for a short while. I didn’t know why I hated myself, but I did. It was stupid to. Eventually, I just accepted it for who I am. It was so hard keeping it all in but I’m glad I finally told you.”

He was so confused and didn’t know what to think. I wondered how long he’d been battling it. I didn’t want him to go through it alone. I went through it alone and I’d down-right say it sucked.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” he asked, curious.

“I don’t know. I guess because the minute I told someone else I care about was the minute it really all became true. I just wasn’t ready to accept it that much, I guess. But it’s not a big deal, it really isn’t. It’s a lot easier if you don’t try to fight…How long?” I asked him.

We hadn’t had a serious talk like that in a long time. It was nice, even if I was standing there, naked still. That was a little weird.

“I guess about a month ago I began to question. When you did that the other day, you really freaked me out and scared me. I didn’t know what to think or do.”

I held him for awhile longer. Eventually, he went home and I dressed. I called Vicky and told her about everything. I was so excited, I couldn’t help it. She bugged me for details. I gave her a few, but felt a little weird telling her all about it.

The next day, Friday, we had to go to school to make up for a snow day. It was stupid going on a Friday, but that’s how it was. We had two snow days to make up and they would be Friday and Monday. I thought I’d miss two days of school if I went on vacation with my family, but I would’ve only missed one. They were coming back Sunday.

I had to admit, I missed my family, the house had gotten lonely, but I sure as hell didn’t regret not going. Nothing would’ve happened between Brett and me if I had. I’d still be in the closet and Brett would still be in the dark. At least I had a light in my closet.

Vicky and Brett came over after school. She was dying to hang out with us together outside of school and I told her we’d check out the gay porn. She was at my house before I was with that offer.

Saturday, we enjoyed our last day of my empty house and took advantage of it, not leaving once all day. Brett stayed the night and we had a little fun Sunday morning before my family came home. Then we just sat on the couch, watching movies together.

We heard the latch on the door and separated, not quite ready to let my parents in on our secret. Vicky was the only other one who knew about either of us. I paused the movie as my parents and my sister came through the door, exhausted and buzzing with stories, pictures, and souvenirs.

“How was you’re week? Did you miss us?” my mother finally asked me.

“It was great,” I answered and gave Brett a little wink.

We took the movie downstairs to finish it. Soon, Paige came down, wanting to spend some time with me. She said she missed me and Brett. She was as close to Brett as she was to me. We allowed her to finish the movie with us. I figured that was what big brothers did. Besides, I missed her, too—even if I wouldn’t admit it to her.