I closed the door on my old Corolla and leaned against the car as I stared across at my house. MY HOUSE! It sounded weird even in my head, as I had not expected to enter into home ownership for several more years. However, there she was, and looking as good from the outside as any house on the block, if I do say so myself.
Some background is in order: The house in question was one formerly belonging to my great-aunt who, having passed away two weeks ago, had left the house to me in her will. As surprised as I was myself, it was nothing compared to the bombastic rantings of her only son, who firmly believed that it was he who was entitled to the house (He apparently, I had heard through the family grapevine, was looking forward to the rental income on an already paid-for home). The lawyer at the reading of the will had assured me, though, that I was quite definitely the intended recipient - he had drawn up the will himself at my great-aunt's behest.
Aunt Dottie had been referred to as "eccentric" by the kinder souls in the community (and family), and was avoided by many, but I had always gotten along quite well with her. She had rented out the property for many years, usually to college students, but had decided one day that she was tired of the constant upkeep required. She booted the tenants, who were on a month-to-month lease, and closed up the place, which is where I came into the picture. The city required that the residence be maintained so as not to devalue the surrounding homes, so Aunt Dottie decided that I should be the one to do said maintenance. I would be graduating high school in two months, and the work would "do me good" while I put myself through community college. It seemed an easy enough task, so I agreed (as if I had a choice with that indomitable woman).
It had been seven years since I started that "easy" task, which turned into quite a project. While I had pictured cutting the grass every couple of weeks, Aunt Dottie had other ideas: I cut grass, wore out several weed-eaters, pruned bushes, planted flowers and shrubs, erected a fence, painted the house numerous times, ...well, you get the picture. Fortunately for me, I think Aunt Dottie's guilt would've gotten the better of her if I had had to do inside unpaid labor as well, so the house had remained locked tight for all those years.
"Hey, Gabe, what's up?"
I was startled from my reverie by the shout from across the street, and turned as a smile started forming on my face. A grinning teen was trotting across the street with that boundless energy I remembered well from not all that long ago.
He was dripping sweat, and I spied his BMX bike laying behind him on the sidewalk, the back tire still spinning from where he'd tossed the bike down after undoubtedly vaulting off at half-speed as I'd seen him do countless times.
"Hey, Jack, what's up with you?"
The freckle-faced kid I'd first met when he was ten ("ten and a half," I'd been informed at the time) had gradually turned into quite a stud- not quite male model material, but definitely enough to make the ladies turn their heads when he passed. The freckles had faded, and the acne which troubles every other teen in the world had seemed to bypass him. His dark brown hair now looked almost black with the perspiration, and his green eyes sparkled as usual with youthful enthusiasm.
"Not much, just riding the ramps a little down at the park. You here to cut the grass?"
"Actually, no. Aunt Dottie died a couple of weeks ago and left me the house in her will. I couldn't believe it!"
"You mean you actually get to go inside?" he grinned as he spoke.
I laughed with him, because we had joked often about not being allowed inside- the "hired help," albeit unpaid.
I held up the keys and jiggled them.
"Can't wait!"
One week later, I was headed down the road to the home improvement store for some supplies. Aunt Dottie had literally locked up the place right after her tenants had moved out, and I had spent most of my free time in the past week just cleaning up and throwing away tons of junk, with a little help from Jack when he was available. He is the backup point guard on his school's basketball team, but had been putting in extra practice time due to the starter's injury (out 4-6 weeks, I had read in the paper).
I thought about Jack as I drove. He had come over, at his mother's insistence, when I first started taking care of the house and yard, bringing a much-needed glass of sweet tea and an offer to help. I wasn't sure how much help a ten-year-old would be, but he claimed to have been mowing his own family's grass for two years. I refused his initial offer, but later let him ride the mower while I handled the weed-eating and trim work. He actually seemed to enjoy riding the mower, and we gradually fell into a steady working pattern throughout the summer and fall. He would come over even when the grass was dormant and there wasn't a whole lot of work to do besides clean up bottles and cans tossed by drunken university students as they drove by. I didn't go to the house as often in the winter months, but I really looked forward to being Jack's adopted "big brother," which is how I began to feel after awhile.
Jack's parents had divorced when he was eight and his sister was six, so he undoubtedly needed a male presence in his life. I'm not sure that I was the best choice, but he was a good, polite kid and LOVED to talk. He also loved to read, which is something we had in common, and tended to read books well above most ten-year-olds reading levels. Consequently, we would often discuss books he was reading that I had only recently read myself. As the years went by, we branched out to talking about everything from girls to sports to politics. We talked about his first date (and kiss) at fourteen, his adamant refusal to ever try drugs, his first car (which he paid for), and his first time having sex at seventeen.
I mention this last one because sex is something I'd been thinking about a lot myself recently. My last girlfriend had broken up with me because I didn't seem to be "into it" when we were having sex, even though she said I was very good at doing the things a woman liked. She was right, and I had begun to think of sex as a perfunctory chore, which by all other accounts is definitely NOT the way it should be viewed. I was beginning to think that perhaps I was gay, or bisexual, even though I'd never done anything even remotely sexual with another guy. I did, however, like to look at guys' bodies at least as much as girls', and had just begun to watch gay porn on my new computer.
Jack was entering into my thoughts when they strayed in this direction, and I found this both disturbing and exciting. It seemed almost incestuous to think about him sexually, but I must admit his athlete's body and engaging smile did turn me on.
I sighed heavily as I pulled up to the home improvement store, because I certainly didn't want to be gay at all, and especially in a relatively small town. Perhaps, I thought, I just need a new girlfriend to set my mind right, as I watched the very shapely ass sway by on the sidewalk and disappear into the coffee shop at the corner.
When I returned home after my supply run, I saw two utilities vans and several neighbors gathered on the sidewalk. I hopped out and asked one what was going on.
"Apparently, there is a busted pipe underneath the sidewalk. It must be severe, because no one on this side of the street has any water pressure. Luckily, I live on the other side, and our pressure is just fine."
I, too, was lucky, in that I lived on the other side of the street as well. I went in to get started on my repairs, and my first destination was the bathroom. The knobs in the shower were missing, and I'd been using pliers to turn on the hot and cold water and a screwdriver to get the shower part running. I had decided to make this room my top priority on the fix-it list, and consequently also had the bathroom door off the hinges and resting against the wall in the hallway. It was so warped it wouldn't close, so I was going to sand it down to see if I couldn't get it right again. I was working diligently on the door when my doorbell rang, and I jumped up hoping it wasn't the utility company saying they had to turn off the water on this side of the street, too.
Jack stood at my door, in a sweat-soaked t-shirt and basketball shorts with a bath towel slung over his shoulder.
"Hey, Gabe, Mom tells me we have no water pressure on our side, so I was hoping I could use your shower to clean up for my party tonight."
Jack's eighteenth birthday had been Wednesday, and his friends were having a party for him tonight to celebrate. Of course, in my experience, teenagers didn't really need an excuse to party, but it probably sounded better to the parents that way.
"Sure, Jack, if you don't mind the missing bathroom door," I said. I explained the work I was doing, and Jack said he didn't care as long as he could get cleaned up.
I left him at the bathroom entrance and went to the kitchen, where there was also more than enough work to be done. It had been filthy when we came in last week, and was still a disaster area. I had been eating out, mostly fast food, until I could get in there and set things right. I was standing in front of the open refrigerator wondering if anything was strong enough to clean up the mess, which looked like syrup had been maliciously poured over every rack in there, when I heard Jack call from the bathroom.
I went down the hall to find Jack standing in front of the tub. He had stripped off his t-shirt, and was standing in his basketball shorts with his boxers just peeking out. One side of his shorts was pulled down just enough to see the pale flesh where his dark tan ended. He turned towards me and I could see the few hairs around his nipples and the thin line of hair running from his belly button down into his shorts. He didn't have a defined six-pack, but a naturally flat belly that made me jealous- I had to work hard to keep mine that way. The puzzled look on his face made me laugh, and I quickly showed him how I had been starting the shower.
I returned to the kitchen, but couldn't keep my thoughts off Jack in the shower, which was irritating. I grabbed a scrubbing sponge and a bottle of cleaning stuff and tried not to think about the bathroom door in the hallway and the clear shower curtain I currently had up in the shower.
I scrubbed furiously, resolute in my determination not to go back down the hall for a quick look. He's too young, I thought, and I like women!
Twenty miserable minutes later, Jack came into the kitchen in another pair of basketball shorts that he must've brought with him. From my position on my knees in front of the refrigerator, I had a perfect eye-level view to notice that he had not brought over any boxers to go underneath those shorts, judging from the bounce as he crossed the kitchen floor. I glanced up quickly, trying not to look guilty.
"Thanks, Gabe, I really appreciate it!"
"Anytime, Jack. Try not to have too much fun tonight!"
He grinned widely. "We'll see. It should be fun!"
He turned to leave, and I quickly dropped my gaze to catch the shift in his shorts as he turned, then mentally berated myself for doing so. I shook my head as he left, and returned to my punishment.
I was brushing my teeth Monday morning when the doorbell rang, and I wondered who in the world would be ringing at 7:15- salesmen certainly didn't start this early, did they? I picked up my towel and wrapped it around myself as I went to look through the peephole at my visitor.
It was Jack again, and he looked, well, less than stellar. His eyes flickered down my unclad torso, and just as quickly returned upward.
"Rough Saturday night, Jack?"
"And into early Sunday morning, too, Gabe. I pretty much slept all day yesterday after dragging in around the crack of dawn. Anyway, the reason I'm here is that the water pressure is still not right at home, and I need your shower again."
"Sure, no problem," I said as I turned to go back down the hall. "I'm just about to leave for work, so just lock up behind yourself when you leave. Is the water problem going to last very long?"
"Mom says they told her it might take the rest of the week to get it completely back to normal, although we might have intermittent spurts of normal pressure while they work on it."
I thought to myself that it would be nice to see Jack coming over to shower everyday, then quickly tried to dismiss that thought.
"Well, you're more than welcome to come anytime you need to, Jack. You know where I've hidden the spare key, so just help yourself."
"Thanks." He paused in front of the bathroom, where the door still leaned against the wall in the hallway.
"Yeah, I know, I never got back to it after Saturday. Once I'd started on the kitchen, I just kept going in there. I finally got the fridge clean and the cabinet doors hung back on straight, as well as cleaning the oven and the floor before I decided that was enough cleaning for any self-respecting man to do in one weekend. I can prop it up for you if you want, though."
"No, it's no problem. It's just not like you to leave something unfinished."
"Don't I know it! It has bothered me a little to see that door still in the hallway, but I'm learning not to be so anal about everything."
I went on down the hall to my room to get dressed for work as Jack started up the shower. I had at least managed to install the knobs in the bath, so the pliers and screwdriver could return to the toolbox. I heard the water come on as I tossed my towel aside and reached in the top drawer for my boxer-briefs.
Finished dressing, I knew there wasn't a chance in hell I would be able to pass back by that bathroom doorway without peeking in at Jack. As I went down the hall at a much slower pace than normal, I glanced in and saw that Jack was facing away from me as he lathered his hair with shampoo. Despite my best intentions to pass by relatively quickly, I couldn't resist this opportunity to stop for a good look. His perfect tan was contrasted by a perfectly formed pale bubble butt, and I watched as the water slid down his back into the crack of his ass. Man, I'd like to run my tongue along that same trail, I thought to myself, then jumped as I finished the thought. What the hell is wrong with me? Freakin' pervert, thinking things like that about someone I thought of as a little brother. I grabbed my briefcase and slammed the door on the way out.
I was sanding down the bathroom door Friday afternoon, having left that particular project undone as long as possible in the hope that the water would not be fixed and that Jack would be over often to shower. However, I had just spoken to the utilities guys outside and they had assured me everything would be back to normal by the time they knocked off for the day, so I had resigned myself to no more exciting glimpses of Jack and was finishing the job. I had been working long days at work, leaving early and getting home late, so I was missing Jack for his morning shower and was returning too late in the day for his post-practice shower. I was Jack-deprived and cranky as a consequence.
Examining these feelings had occupied a lot of my free time this week, and I was undecided as to what to do. As I scraped and thought, I was startled by the sound of the screen door slamming and Jack's appearance a few seconds later as he rounded the corner from the living room.
He looked sexy, and I mentally shook my head at the thought.
"Hey, Gabe. what are you doing home so early from work and why are you shaking your head?"
Oh. Perhaps that wasn't just a mental head-shake.
"What's up, Jack? I've been working some long days this week, so the boss told me to take a half-day today to make up for it." I chose not to answer the other part of his question.
"How did practice go today? Enjoying your extra time on the court?"
"It's been great, actually! A couple of the other players think I should be the regular starter instead of Tim, but it's hard to knock the coach's son out of his spot. I'll just enjoy it while it lasts."
"Yeah, I can see why the coach wouldn't want to make the switch. Benching your son could make for bad blood at home," I laughed. "You need the shower? I can go work on something else. There's certainly plenty to do."
He answered as I had hoped when I made the half-hearted offer. "No, no, don't leave on my account. I know it's been killing you to leave that door all week. You keep working and I can still have my shower."
"Well, alright, if it won't bother you."
I resumed sanding, secretly thrilled at the way this had worked out. Of course, the fact that I'd purposely left the door undone all week and had not started working on it today until I thought Jack would be done with practice had helped this scenario come to pass.
Jack cranked the water and started discarding clothes. He turned with a chuckle, "You know this is much easier without the pliers and screwdriver!"
I laughed with him. "You got that right! At least I fixed that problem quickly."
He turned back to the shower, adjusted the temperature just a bit, then bent slightly and slid his shorts and boxers down to the floor. As he stepped out of them and across the side of the tub, I caught a glimpse of his balls from behind. My cock was already rock hard in anticipation of the sight, and when he turned slightly to pull the shower curtain back I could just see a little bit of his own dick.
I glanced up to see Jack looking at me quizzically as he finished pulling the curtain back, but then he looked away and grabbed the shampoo. I took the opportunity to adjust my offending member to a more comfortable position.
I sanded slowly, watching as Jack lathered his hair, then turned his back to the water to rinse the shampoo away. With his eyes closed, I was able to stare carefully at what I'd been wondering so much about lately. He was a "grower," I supposed, his cock hanging straight down about two and a half inches and his balls hanging just a bit lower than that. His pubic hair looked to have been trimmed slightly, but at least he didn't shave himself bald as so many of the young men I'd seen on the internet lately seemed to do.
I drew in a breath as I watched him standing there, and realized in that instant that my vacillation concerning my sexual orientation was over. I was gay.
Jack leaned to turn the water off and slid the curtain back as he reached for his towel. He started rubbing his hair as I stepped forward and slowly trailed the back of my hand down his torso to his treasure trail. He paused in his drying off and drew in a breath as I lightly grazed his cock. I bent slightly to cover his left nipple with my mouth, sucking gently as I took a firmer grasp on his penis with my right hand. I felt it swell in my grip, and Jack's breath quickened.
I grabbed one cheek of his ass as I increased the suction on his nipple and leaned closer to touch my shirtless chest to his. He put one hand on my shoulder and the other on the back of my head.
"Gabe, Gabe!"
"GABE!"
I awoke with a start, to find Jack patting my sheet-covered leg as he tried to rouse me.
"Wake up, Gabe, you overslept."
I glanced toward the bedside table, where my apparently unset alarm glowed dimly. Twenty minutes to eight, and I'd meant to go in early again today and work a full day in half a day's time. I leapt out of bed, forgetting both the fact that I slept nude and that I'd been dreaming a very erotic dream.
"It's not like you to over... uh...sleep...," Jack stuttered and faltered, his gaze fixing on my obvious arousal. He blushed and wrenched his eyes upward, as a similar crimson stain spread over my own features. I sat down quickly.
"I just came over to shower before school, but I thought you'd be gone already. I'll just grab a cap and skip the shower this morning," Jack said as he started toward the bedroom door.
"No, no, don't be silly! I'm not even due in to work until nine. I've just been going in early to catch up on stuff. You go ahead and shower so you won't be late for school."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, go ahead. I've got plenty of time!"
"Alright. Listen, are you gonna be home this afternoon?"
"I should be back by three or so today. Why?"
"Nothing major. I've just got something I want to talk to you about."
"Okay. Nothing wrong, I hope?"
"Not at all," Jack shrugged. "Just something that's been on my mind lately."
"Alright. Now you better hurry so you can get to class."
Jack left the room, but not without a quick flicker of the eyes toward my crotch. I heard the water start moments later, and leaned back to use the next fifteen minutes to do something about the raging hardon left behind by my dream. I stroked slowly at first, then with increasing quickness as I resumed the interrupted fantasy.
I had just finished rehanging the bathroom door, and was kicked back on the couch with an ice-cold beer while I contemplated which project to tackle next. I heard a tap on the door and glanced up to see Jack coming in. His tanktop was soaked with sweat, and his face glistened with perspiration. He looked gorgeous.
"Hey, Jack, you look like you ran home from practice, or is the coach just working ya'll that hard?"
"I did, actually, run from practice. My bike had a flat when I came out from my last class, and I really didn't feel like walking that bike all the way home. I was hoping you could carry me back out there to pick it up."
"Sure, no problem. You wanna go now or take a shower first?" I secretly cursed myself for putting that door back up today.
"Let's go ahead and get it. And, you'll be happy to know, mom said they've finished with the water lines and our pressure is back to normal, so I won't have to bother you anymore for your shower."
Damn that utilities company efficiency!
"Alright, let's go!" I put down my empty bottle and grabbed my keys off the end table. "What was it you wanted to talk about, by the way," I asked, remembering our conversation from that morning.
"I'll tell you about it in the car."
We got in my car and started off on the mile-and-a-half journey to Jack's school. He was silent at first, then turned towards me slightly as he folded his left leg up onto the seat. His basketball shorts gapped open at the leg as he did so, and I felt my gaze drop hoping to catch a glimpse of something flopping out. No luck, but again I found Jack looking at me with a strange look on his face when I brought my eyes back up to the road. I faced forward and put both hands on the wheel, and I could feel the blush creeping up from my neck.
By this time, we were approaching the school, and he directed me around to the west side where the bike racks were. I pulled up and switched off the ignition as I started to get out to help Jack with the bike, but he stopped me with a hand on my arm.
"Gabe," he said, in a low voice.
"Yeah?"
"I've been wanting to tell somebody this for awhile, but I couldn't get up the nerve."
"What is it," I asked, thinking more about whether his bike would fit in my trunk than about what he was saying to me.
I felt his hand on my arm again. I turned back towards him, and his eyes welled with tears.
"Jeez, Jack, what is it?" I was suddenly concerned, and all thoughts of the bike flew from my head.
"I..." he faltered, then continued. "I just wanted you to be the first to know. I'm gay." He slumped in the seat as he spoke.
Dead silence greeted his pronouncement, as I had no idea what to say.
"Are you sure," I said, then mentally slapped myself in the head at the inanity of the question. Probably not the right response!
Jack didn't seem to notice. "Well, I think so. I only fantasize about guys, and lately that's the only way I've been able to get off when I'm with Lindsay. I think she's noticed something is wrong, but I haven't been able to tell her. And, Gabe..."
"Uh-huh?"
"Lately, my fantasies have been about someone specific..."
"Yeah? One of your classmates, or maybe someone on the basketball team?"
"No. You."
Wow. I knew where my fantasies had been, but I had no idea Jack had been having similar thoughts. Now what?!
I laid my hand on Jack's leg and took a deep breath.
"I've gotta tell you something, too, Jack. I've been having the same sorts of fantasies about you, too. I never thought I was gay until recently, but seeing you more and more has had me questioning myself. But I've always thought of you as the little brother I never had, and I didn't know what to do."
Jack's head had come up as I spoke, and now his words came out in a rush. "Oh, Gabe, I've always thought of you as my big brother, too. But I've seen the way you look at me sometimes, and I began to hope that maybe..."
"You don't think I'm too old? I mean, you just turned eighteen and I'm almost twenty-six. Have you even tried anything with a guy yet?"
"No, I want you to be the first. Besides, if I had tried anything, don't you think I'd have told you about it? I've always come to you with my sex questions."
"True, but this might've been a tough one to talk about." I realized as I spoke that my hand was still on Jack's leg, and I looked down to see my fingers at the bottom edge of his shorts. Jack glanced down, too, and laid his hand atop mine as he leaned towards me.
I leaned forward as well, and our lips touched lightly. It was like electricity, and my hand slid up on his leg to graze his left testicle just inside his boxers. He jumped as I did so, and I felt his cock twitch inside his shorts. We sat back, both breathing hard from just that little bit of intimacy.
"Maybe," I gasped, "we should get that bike and head back home."
I reached across to pop the trunk button as Jack jumped out to grab the bike. I didn't know where this was gonna go, but I sure liked the possibilities.
THE END
Some background is in order: The house in question was one formerly belonging to my great-aunt who, having passed away two weeks ago, had left the house to me in her will. As surprised as I was myself, it was nothing compared to the bombastic rantings of her only son, who firmly believed that it was he who was entitled to the house (He apparently, I had heard through the family grapevine, was looking forward to the rental income on an already paid-for home). The lawyer at the reading of the will had assured me, though, that I was quite definitely the intended recipient - he had drawn up the will himself at my great-aunt's behest.
Aunt Dottie had been referred to as "eccentric" by the kinder souls in the community (and family), and was avoided by many, but I had always gotten along quite well with her. She had rented out the property for many years, usually to college students, but had decided one day that she was tired of the constant upkeep required. She booted the tenants, who were on a month-to-month lease, and closed up the place, which is where I came into the picture. The city required that the residence be maintained so as not to devalue the surrounding homes, so Aunt Dottie decided that I should be the one to do said maintenance. I would be graduating high school in two months, and the work would "do me good" while I put myself through community college. It seemed an easy enough task, so I agreed (as if I had a choice with that indomitable woman).
It had been seven years since I started that "easy" task, which turned into quite a project. While I had pictured cutting the grass every couple of weeks, Aunt Dottie had other ideas: I cut grass, wore out several weed-eaters, pruned bushes, planted flowers and shrubs, erected a fence, painted the house numerous times, ...well, you get the picture. Fortunately for me, I think Aunt Dottie's guilt would've gotten the better of her if I had had to do inside unpaid labor as well, so the house had remained locked tight for all those years.
"Hey, Gabe, what's up?"
I was startled from my reverie by the shout from across the street, and turned as a smile started forming on my face. A grinning teen was trotting across the street with that boundless energy I remembered well from not all that long ago.
He was dripping sweat, and I spied his BMX bike laying behind him on the sidewalk, the back tire still spinning from where he'd tossed the bike down after undoubtedly vaulting off at half-speed as I'd seen him do countless times.
"Hey, Jack, what's up with you?"
The freckle-faced kid I'd first met when he was ten ("ten and a half," I'd been informed at the time) had gradually turned into quite a stud- not quite male model material, but definitely enough to make the ladies turn their heads when he passed. The freckles had faded, and the acne which troubles every other teen in the world had seemed to bypass him. His dark brown hair now looked almost black with the perspiration, and his green eyes sparkled as usual with youthful enthusiasm.
"Not much, just riding the ramps a little down at the park. You here to cut the grass?"
"Actually, no. Aunt Dottie died a couple of weeks ago and left me the house in her will. I couldn't believe it!"
"You mean you actually get to go inside?" he grinned as he spoke.
I laughed with him, because we had joked often about not being allowed inside- the "hired help," albeit unpaid.
I held up the keys and jiggled them.
"Can't wait!"
****************************************
One week later, I was headed down the road to the home improvement store for some supplies. Aunt Dottie had literally locked up the place right after her tenants had moved out, and I had spent most of my free time in the past week just cleaning up and throwing away tons of junk, with a little help from Jack when he was available. He is the backup point guard on his school's basketball team, but had been putting in extra practice time due to the starter's injury (out 4-6 weeks, I had read in the paper).
I thought about Jack as I drove. He had come over, at his mother's insistence, when I first started taking care of the house and yard, bringing a much-needed glass of sweet tea and an offer to help. I wasn't sure how much help a ten-year-old would be, but he claimed to have been mowing his own family's grass for two years. I refused his initial offer, but later let him ride the mower while I handled the weed-eating and trim work. He actually seemed to enjoy riding the mower, and we gradually fell into a steady working pattern throughout the summer and fall. He would come over even when the grass was dormant and there wasn't a whole lot of work to do besides clean up bottles and cans tossed by drunken university students as they drove by. I didn't go to the house as often in the winter months, but I really looked forward to being Jack's adopted "big brother," which is how I began to feel after awhile.
Jack's parents had divorced when he was eight and his sister was six, so he undoubtedly needed a male presence in his life. I'm not sure that I was the best choice, but he was a good, polite kid and LOVED to talk. He also loved to read, which is something we had in common, and tended to read books well above most ten-year-olds reading levels. Consequently, we would often discuss books he was reading that I had only recently read myself. As the years went by, we branched out to talking about everything from girls to sports to politics. We talked about his first date (and kiss) at fourteen, his adamant refusal to ever try drugs, his first car (which he paid for), and his first time having sex at seventeen.
I mention this last one because sex is something I'd been thinking about a lot myself recently. My last girlfriend had broken up with me because I didn't seem to be "into it" when we were having sex, even though she said I was very good at doing the things a woman liked. She was right, and I had begun to think of sex as a perfunctory chore, which by all other accounts is definitely NOT the way it should be viewed. I was beginning to think that perhaps I was gay, or bisexual, even though I'd never done anything even remotely sexual with another guy. I did, however, like to look at guys' bodies at least as much as girls', and had just begun to watch gay porn on my new computer.
Jack was entering into my thoughts when they strayed in this direction, and I found this both disturbing and exciting. It seemed almost incestuous to think about him sexually, but I must admit his athlete's body and engaging smile did turn me on.
I sighed heavily as I pulled up to the home improvement store, because I certainly didn't want to be gay at all, and especially in a relatively small town. Perhaps, I thought, I just need a new girlfriend to set my mind right, as I watched the very shapely ass sway by on the sidewalk and disappear into the coffee shop at the corner.
When I returned home after my supply run, I saw two utilities vans and several neighbors gathered on the sidewalk. I hopped out and asked one what was going on.
"Apparently, there is a busted pipe underneath the sidewalk. It must be severe, because no one on this side of the street has any water pressure. Luckily, I live on the other side, and our pressure is just fine."
I, too, was lucky, in that I lived on the other side of the street as well. I went in to get started on my repairs, and my first destination was the bathroom. The knobs in the shower were missing, and I'd been using pliers to turn on the hot and cold water and a screwdriver to get the shower part running. I had decided to make this room my top priority on the fix-it list, and consequently also had the bathroom door off the hinges and resting against the wall in the hallway. It was so warped it wouldn't close, so I was going to sand it down to see if I couldn't get it right again. I was working diligently on the door when my doorbell rang, and I jumped up hoping it wasn't the utility company saying they had to turn off the water on this side of the street, too.
Jack stood at my door, in a sweat-soaked t-shirt and basketball shorts with a bath towel slung over his shoulder.
"Hey, Gabe, Mom tells me we have no water pressure on our side, so I was hoping I could use your shower to clean up for my party tonight."
Jack's eighteenth birthday had been Wednesday, and his friends were having a party for him tonight to celebrate. Of course, in my experience, teenagers didn't really need an excuse to party, but it probably sounded better to the parents that way.
"Sure, Jack, if you don't mind the missing bathroom door," I said. I explained the work I was doing, and Jack said he didn't care as long as he could get cleaned up.
I left him at the bathroom entrance and went to the kitchen, where there was also more than enough work to be done. It had been filthy when we came in last week, and was still a disaster area. I had been eating out, mostly fast food, until I could get in there and set things right. I was standing in front of the open refrigerator wondering if anything was strong enough to clean up the mess, which looked like syrup had been maliciously poured over every rack in there, when I heard Jack call from the bathroom.
I went down the hall to find Jack standing in front of the tub. He had stripped off his t-shirt, and was standing in his basketball shorts with his boxers just peeking out. One side of his shorts was pulled down just enough to see the pale flesh where his dark tan ended. He turned towards me and I could see the few hairs around his nipples and the thin line of hair running from his belly button down into his shorts. He didn't have a defined six-pack, but a naturally flat belly that made me jealous- I had to work hard to keep mine that way. The puzzled look on his face made me laugh, and I quickly showed him how I had been starting the shower.
I returned to the kitchen, but couldn't keep my thoughts off Jack in the shower, which was irritating. I grabbed a scrubbing sponge and a bottle of cleaning stuff and tried not to think about the bathroom door in the hallway and the clear shower curtain I currently had up in the shower.
I scrubbed furiously, resolute in my determination not to go back down the hall for a quick look. He's too young, I thought, and I like women!
Twenty miserable minutes later, Jack came into the kitchen in another pair of basketball shorts that he must've brought with him. From my position on my knees in front of the refrigerator, I had a perfect eye-level view to notice that he had not brought over any boxers to go underneath those shorts, judging from the bounce as he crossed the kitchen floor. I glanced up quickly, trying not to look guilty.
"Thanks, Gabe, I really appreciate it!"
"Anytime, Jack. Try not to have too much fun tonight!"
He grinned widely. "We'll see. It should be fun!"
He turned to leave, and I quickly dropped my gaze to catch the shift in his shorts as he turned, then mentally berated myself for doing so. I shook my head as he left, and returned to my punishment.
I was brushing my teeth Monday morning when the doorbell rang, and I wondered who in the world would be ringing at 7:15- salesmen certainly didn't start this early, did they? I picked up my towel and wrapped it around myself as I went to look through the peephole at my visitor.
It was Jack again, and he looked, well, less than stellar. His eyes flickered down my unclad torso, and just as quickly returned upward.
"Rough Saturday night, Jack?"
"And into early Sunday morning, too, Gabe. I pretty much slept all day yesterday after dragging in around the crack of dawn. Anyway, the reason I'm here is that the water pressure is still not right at home, and I need your shower again."
"Sure, no problem," I said as I turned to go back down the hall. "I'm just about to leave for work, so just lock up behind yourself when you leave. Is the water problem going to last very long?"
"Mom says they told her it might take the rest of the week to get it completely back to normal, although we might have intermittent spurts of normal pressure while they work on it."
I thought to myself that it would be nice to see Jack coming over to shower everyday, then quickly tried to dismiss that thought.
"Well, you're more than welcome to come anytime you need to, Jack. You know where I've hidden the spare key, so just help yourself."
"Thanks." He paused in front of the bathroom, where the door still leaned against the wall in the hallway.
"Yeah, I know, I never got back to it after Saturday. Once I'd started on the kitchen, I just kept going in there. I finally got the fridge clean and the cabinet doors hung back on straight, as well as cleaning the oven and the floor before I decided that was enough cleaning for any self-respecting man to do in one weekend. I can prop it up for you if you want, though."
"No, it's no problem. It's just not like you to leave something unfinished."
"Don't I know it! It has bothered me a little to see that door still in the hallway, but I'm learning not to be so anal about everything."
I went on down the hall to my room to get dressed for work as Jack started up the shower. I had at least managed to install the knobs in the bath, so the pliers and screwdriver could return to the toolbox. I heard the water come on as I tossed my towel aside and reached in the top drawer for my boxer-briefs.
Finished dressing, I knew there wasn't a chance in hell I would be able to pass back by that bathroom doorway without peeking in at Jack. As I went down the hall at a much slower pace than normal, I glanced in and saw that Jack was facing away from me as he lathered his hair with shampoo. Despite my best intentions to pass by relatively quickly, I couldn't resist this opportunity to stop for a good look. His perfect tan was contrasted by a perfectly formed pale bubble butt, and I watched as the water slid down his back into the crack of his ass. Man, I'd like to run my tongue along that same trail, I thought to myself, then jumped as I finished the thought. What the hell is wrong with me? Freakin' pervert, thinking things like that about someone I thought of as a little brother. I grabbed my briefcase and slammed the door on the way out.
I was sanding down the bathroom door Friday afternoon, having left that particular project undone as long as possible in the hope that the water would not be fixed and that Jack would be over often to shower. However, I had just spoken to the utilities guys outside and they had assured me everything would be back to normal by the time they knocked off for the day, so I had resigned myself to no more exciting glimpses of Jack and was finishing the job. I had been working long days at work, leaving early and getting home late, so I was missing Jack for his morning shower and was returning too late in the day for his post-practice shower. I was Jack-deprived and cranky as a consequence.
Examining these feelings had occupied a lot of my free time this week, and I was undecided as to what to do. As I scraped and thought, I was startled by the sound of the screen door slamming and Jack's appearance a few seconds later as he rounded the corner from the living room.
He looked sexy, and I mentally shook my head at the thought.
"Hey, Gabe. what are you doing home so early from work and why are you shaking your head?"
Oh. Perhaps that wasn't just a mental head-shake.
"What's up, Jack? I've been working some long days this week, so the boss told me to take a half-day today to make up for it." I chose not to answer the other part of his question.
"How did practice go today? Enjoying your extra time on the court?"
"It's been great, actually! A couple of the other players think I should be the regular starter instead of Tim, but it's hard to knock the coach's son out of his spot. I'll just enjoy it while it lasts."
"Yeah, I can see why the coach wouldn't want to make the switch. Benching your son could make for bad blood at home," I laughed. "You need the shower? I can go work on something else. There's certainly plenty to do."
He answered as I had hoped when I made the half-hearted offer. "No, no, don't leave on my account. I know it's been killing you to leave that door all week. You keep working and I can still have my shower."
"Well, alright, if it won't bother you."
I resumed sanding, secretly thrilled at the way this had worked out. Of course, the fact that I'd purposely left the door undone all week and had not started working on it today until I thought Jack would be done with practice had helped this scenario come to pass.
Jack cranked the water and started discarding clothes. He turned with a chuckle, "You know this is much easier without the pliers and screwdriver!"
I laughed with him. "You got that right! At least I fixed that problem quickly."
He turned back to the shower, adjusted the temperature just a bit, then bent slightly and slid his shorts and boxers down to the floor. As he stepped out of them and across the side of the tub, I caught a glimpse of his balls from behind. My cock was already rock hard in anticipation of the sight, and when he turned slightly to pull the shower curtain back I could just see a little bit of his own dick.
I glanced up to see Jack looking at me quizzically as he finished pulling the curtain back, but then he looked away and grabbed the shampoo. I took the opportunity to adjust my offending member to a more comfortable position.
I sanded slowly, watching as Jack lathered his hair, then turned his back to the water to rinse the shampoo away. With his eyes closed, I was able to stare carefully at what I'd been wondering so much about lately. He was a "grower," I supposed, his cock hanging straight down about two and a half inches and his balls hanging just a bit lower than that. His pubic hair looked to have been trimmed slightly, but at least he didn't shave himself bald as so many of the young men I'd seen on the internet lately seemed to do.
I drew in a breath as I watched him standing there, and realized in that instant that my vacillation concerning my sexual orientation was over. I was gay.
Jack leaned to turn the water off and slid the curtain back as he reached for his towel. He started rubbing his hair as I stepped forward and slowly trailed the back of my hand down his torso to his treasure trail. He paused in his drying off and drew in a breath as I lightly grazed his cock. I bent slightly to cover his left nipple with my mouth, sucking gently as I took a firmer grasp on his penis with my right hand. I felt it swell in my grip, and Jack's breath quickened.
I grabbed one cheek of his ass as I increased the suction on his nipple and leaned closer to touch my shirtless chest to his. He put one hand on my shoulder and the other on the back of my head.
"Gabe, Gabe!"
"GABE!"
I awoke with a start, to find Jack patting my sheet-covered leg as he tried to rouse me.
"Wake up, Gabe, you overslept."
I glanced toward the bedside table, where my apparently unset alarm glowed dimly. Twenty minutes to eight, and I'd meant to go in early again today and work a full day in half a day's time. I leapt out of bed, forgetting both the fact that I slept nude and that I'd been dreaming a very erotic dream.
"It's not like you to over... uh...sleep...," Jack stuttered and faltered, his gaze fixing on my obvious arousal. He blushed and wrenched his eyes upward, as a similar crimson stain spread over my own features. I sat down quickly.
"I just came over to shower before school, but I thought you'd be gone already. I'll just grab a cap and skip the shower this morning," Jack said as he started toward the bedroom door.
"No, no, don't be silly! I'm not even due in to work until nine. I've just been going in early to catch up on stuff. You go ahead and shower so you won't be late for school."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, go ahead. I've got plenty of time!"
"Alright. Listen, are you gonna be home this afternoon?"
"I should be back by three or so today. Why?"
"Nothing major. I've just got something I want to talk to you about."
"Okay. Nothing wrong, I hope?"
"Not at all," Jack shrugged. "Just something that's been on my mind lately."
"Alright. Now you better hurry so you can get to class."
Jack left the room, but not without a quick flicker of the eyes toward my crotch. I heard the water start moments later, and leaned back to use the next fifteen minutes to do something about the raging hardon left behind by my dream. I stroked slowly at first, then with increasing quickness as I resumed the interrupted fantasy.
I had just finished rehanging the bathroom door, and was kicked back on the couch with an ice-cold beer while I contemplated which project to tackle next. I heard a tap on the door and glanced up to see Jack coming in. His tanktop was soaked with sweat, and his face glistened with perspiration. He looked gorgeous.
"Hey, Jack, you look like you ran home from practice, or is the coach just working ya'll that hard?"
"I did, actually, run from practice. My bike had a flat when I came out from my last class, and I really didn't feel like walking that bike all the way home. I was hoping you could carry me back out there to pick it up."
"Sure, no problem. You wanna go now or take a shower first?" I secretly cursed myself for putting that door back up today.
"Let's go ahead and get it. And, you'll be happy to know, mom said they've finished with the water lines and our pressure is back to normal, so I won't have to bother you anymore for your shower."
Damn that utilities company efficiency!
"Alright, let's go!" I put down my empty bottle and grabbed my keys off the end table. "What was it you wanted to talk about, by the way," I asked, remembering our conversation from that morning.
"I'll tell you about it in the car."
We got in my car and started off on the mile-and-a-half journey to Jack's school. He was silent at first, then turned towards me slightly as he folded his left leg up onto the seat. His basketball shorts gapped open at the leg as he did so, and I felt my gaze drop hoping to catch a glimpse of something flopping out. No luck, but again I found Jack looking at me with a strange look on his face when I brought my eyes back up to the road. I faced forward and put both hands on the wheel, and I could feel the blush creeping up from my neck.
By this time, we were approaching the school, and he directed me around to the west side where the bike racks were. I pulled up and switched off the ignition as I started to get out to help Jack with the bike, but he stopped me with a hand on my arm.
"Gabe," he said, in a low voice.
"Yeah?"
"I've been wanting to tell somebody this for awhile, but I couldn't get up the nerve."
"What is it," I asked, thinking more about whether his bike would fit in my trunk than about what he was saying to me.
I felt his hand on my arm again. I turned back towards him, and his eyes welled with tears.
"Jeez, Jack, what is it?" I was suddenly concerned, and all thoughts of the bike flew from my head.
"I..." he faltered, then continued. "I just wanted you to be the first to know. I'm gay." He slumped in the seat as he spoke.
Dead silence greeted his pronouncement, as I had no idea what to say.
"Are you sure," I said, then mentally slapped myself in the head at the inanity of the question. Probably not the right response!
Jack didn't seem to notice. "Well, I think so. I only fantasize about guys, and lately that's the only way I've been able to get off when I'm with Lindsay. I think she's noticed something is wrong, but I haven't been able to tell her. And, Gabe..."
"Uh-huh?"
"Lately, my fantasies have been about someone specific..."
"Yeah? One of your classmates, or maybe someone on the basketball team?"
"No. You."
Wow. I knew where my fantasies had been, but I had no idea Jack had been having similar thoughts. Now what?!
I laid my hand on Jack's leg and took a deep breath.
"I've gotta tell you something, too, Jack. I've been having the same sorts of fantasies about you, too. I never thought I was gay until recently, but seeing you more and more has had me questioning myself. But I've always thought of you as the little brother I never had, and I didn't know what to do."
Jack's head had come up as I spoke, and now his words came out in a rush. "Oh, Gabe, I've always thought of you as my big brother, too. But I've seen the way you look at me sometimes, and I began to hope that maybe..."
"You don't think I'm too old? I mean, you just turned eighteen and I'm almost twenty-six. Have you even tried anything with a guy yet?"
"No, I want you to be the first. Besides, if I had tried anything, don't you think I'd have told you about it? I've always come to you with my sex questions."
"True, but this might've been a tough one to talk about." I realized as I spoke that my hand was still on Jack's leg, and I looked down to see my fingers at the bottom edge of his shorts. Jack glanced down, too, and laid his hand atop mine as he leaned towards me.
I leaned forward as well, and our lips touched lightly. It was like electricity, and my hand slid up on his leg to graze his left testicle just inside his boxers. He jumped as I did so, and I felt his cock twitch inside his shorts. We sat back, both breathing hard from just that little bit of intimacy.
"Maybe," I gasped, "we should get that bike and head back home."
I reached across to pop the trunk button as Jack jumped out to grab the bike. I didn't know where this was gonna go, but I sure liked the possibilities.
THE END
