When did I first realize what was going on? It’s hard to say, it was one of those chains of events that had its own momentum. A few ‘accidental’ brush pasts in the corridor on the way to another lesson, a bit of gentle verbal sparring on the playground. It was clumsy because we were young and inexperienced; we possessed neither the self-awareness to recognize our feelings nor the vocabulary to express them. It was only when he reached out to me as if to brush something from my face, his soft fingers lingering on my lips. I gulped and struggled to regain control. “Meet me at the tennis courts after school”, I mumbled furtively, then quickly and guiltily moved away.
I’m still not sure to this day if somehow someone overheard or if it was he who spread the story of our assignation, unable to admit his true feelings to himself. I arrived at the tennis courts and there they were, a mob of other boys, expectant, prurient voyeurs. I didn’t know what to do, what to think. I hung around trying to look casual, trying not to make my disappointment obvious and eventually I drifted home.
When I saw him in school the next day he was cold, distant. Occasionally he’d drop a few words my way, but he never again looked me in the eye. Then one day he just didn’t turn up to school at all. There were rumours, of course. Some said he'd been caught in the mens toilets in the local shopping centre, trading blow jobs for Cherry Ripes. Sometimes I would close my eyes and imagine his touch, those soft fingers caressing my face and tickling my chin.
( wakeupandsmellthebacon, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 10:58, 2 replies)

A bit more homo-erotic than I remember.
Post it as your own story (as Alby did last week) and see how it goes.
Cheers.
(s0ckpuppet logging out to reply to you if you're not careful, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 11:05, closed)

YES.

( Fucking hell Jeff I am not a robot, Sat 28 Sep 2013, 20:24, closed)