## Archive-name: love-at-last

From: an172899@anon.penet.fi (Exmon)

Subject: REPOST: Love at Last (b/b teen cons rom) 1/3

REPOST Note: Thanks to those of you out there who have shared your comments with me concerning this small story which I am reposting due to many requests. I think that no matter when or where, Love is Good. I think love always tends to heal and to make people whole. Once in a while, a relationship struck early on burns steadily for the rest of two lives. Though not autobiographic by any stretch, nonetheless I have known, in my time, those few who......... RE: Love at Last (b/b teen cons rom) 1/3

Dear NetFriends... Read the Disclaimer:

Here is a STORY. It is a work of fiction, and does not bear any relation to the 'real' world. Any similarities and/or congruencies between this story, it's ideations, constructs, or developments, and the continuum of actualities in which we live and move and have our being, is pure and unadulterated coincidence.

(Yeah! Whut he said!)

This story is a fictional account of one person's experiences during that time in our lives when the Rubicon of Maturity looms large and insistent. Among other life experiences, it contains descriptions of sexuality and sexual behaviour. As the characters in this story are depicted in early adolescence, YOU ARE ADVISED to consider whether or not the perusal of such fictional material will violate any laws, customs, beliefs, or other modes of thought control to which you are subscribed. This includes, but is not limited to, any chronological age standards currently operating in the jurisdiction within which you are reading this work of pure fiction.

(Hey! Whut about if I jus' wanna *read* the damn thing...?)

IT IS YOUR responsibility to refuse to read this work of fiction if, from the description and disclaimer, you feel that you would be in violation of any legal prohibitions or moral boundaries by reading it. If you are not of the age of legal majority in the jurisdiction where you are reading this, you must seek the permission of those who are responsible for you, or you must not read this story.

(Screw you, dude, I'm gonna read whut I wanna read, it's jus' a story)

You have, I trust, been suitably empowered to make an informed decision concerning the work of fiction which follows. The Author accepts and reads all comments; flames, trolls, religious conversion attempts, threats, &tc., are redirected to /dev/null. No private e-mail will be sent. Reposts are possible. All discussion belongs on alt.sex.stories.d; remember Netiquette and please keep a.s.s free of non-story postings. This Story is offered free and gratis to the Internet community, and no copyright is retained. Be Mature and Enjoy!

Love at Last
1 of 3
(for: Ianthe)

The weather was just starting to get cool at night. Summer had made the decision to turn into autumn, but hadn't done much about it yet. It was still hot as hell during the long days, and thunderstorms still blew up in the afternoons with small hail and lightning.

School was in the air as well. The malls were already hauling out the September Specials....the commercials on TV beginning to hint about new clothes and new backpacks and notebooks and pencils. It was enough to make a kid feel trapped and helpless.

Arnie fidgeted, bored, waiting for his friends to come out of the bathroom at the shopping center. Since he didn't smoke, and since it made his asthma go crazy, he was usually elected to 'stand guard' in case the security cops came along. He could hear the timbre of Roger and Ben's coarse tenor as well as Dirk's higher pitched laughter as the boys talked and smoked. Arnie had the fleeting wish that his own voice would just do something... It was deeper than in 7th, but he just didn't sound like a man yet, and in eight short months, he'd be fifteen, then what was he gonna do? Nobody in High School wanted to be around a guy who sounded like some girl. Not that he looked like one... Arnie turned and tried to see himself in the glass window beside him. A reasonably typical ninth-grader looked back at him. He was five-five, just at a hundred pounds, and had longish dark-brown hair that was forever falling into his large dark-brown eyes with their huge pupils. Most people who met him eventually said something about how striking his eyes were, which (until recently) had baffled him as to just what they were talking about. Truth be told: Arnie's eyes were the reason quite a few young ladies in his school jilled off over him, but he would never know this. His face was a little long, his nose unremarkable, but his lips were full and wide and generous, disclosing white teeth free of the scourge of orthodontia. He (thank God!) had few zits to worry about.

Arnie's attention was suddenly captured by the magical appearance of two kids walking together close by him. For a minute he thought they were going into the restroom, but they just passed him by, their childish chatter reaching his ears over the din of the mall. His gaze narrowed and without thinking he checked them out. Baggy pants, damn! But cute legs, one has no socks. He registered their faces right as they went by, just two eleven-year-old mall rats, brownish unkempt hair, little-kid freckles, huge t-shirts, backpacks. Arnie's mental camera fixed their faces in his memory for later. He bit his lower lip unconciously. He had to give them names. Boys had to have names or they weren't 'interesting' to him.

"Dana." He whispered to himself. "Dana and......Justin. Yeah, Dana and Justin. Justin and Dana. Dana, Dana, Da...."

"Noids, who the fuck you talkin' to?"

A waft of cigarette blew out as the door opened up behind him. Roger and Ben and Dirk crowded around as the metal door banged shut.

They moved off, leaving Arnie behind them. In truth, he was trying to let the smoke-smell dissipate a little.

"Noids.... c'mon, let's check out some CDs!!" shrilled Dirk over his shoulder.

He had started hanging with this group of guys back last summer. He didn't know if he really liked them, he kind of got picked on by most of them, but it beat being lonely and bored all summer. Ben had called him 'Arnoid' once, and that had mutated to 'Noids', a name Arnie didn't like, but there was no changing it. The one time he had tried to complain, Dirk had retailated by spray painting NOIDSTER on his locker at school.

He ambled off after the other three boys, catching up with them at the entrance to the Moby Disc outlet. Dance music was booming away from the monster speakers up near the roof. They spread out, picking through the bins and comparing new releases to each other. Arnie looked over just in time to catch Dirk sliding something into the large pocket of his pack. Dirk looked from side to side, not seeing Arnie though. A stab of fear and dismay got Arnie in the gut. He hated it when the guys did this shit, not that he hadn't once or twice... but still, Dirk stole something almost everytime they went shopping, and it made Arnie nervous and scared. The trading cards he had lifted a few months ago were still in his desk drawer at home, and he still wished that he had left them alone. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, he had just, well, done it. Dirk had given him that wicked, rat-boy grin when he had shown his spoils later. "Yo, Noidster, way to go, bro..." but Arnie secretly wished the cards would just go away and leave him alone. The boy found a CD he didn't really want, and spent the last of his yard-work cash on it. It was his way of apologizing for Dirk.

They were leaving the mall to go get some pizza for lunch when Julie Hawkins and three other girls from school walked past them. Dirk leered at her. "Hey, kiddo, lookin' fine..." he said to the suddenly uncomfortable girl. Arnie remembered why she felt that way....

She and Debbie Levin had come to a party at the beginning of summer, and had stayed late. As couples scattered into dark corners for more privacy, Arnie had found himself and Roger and Dirk down in the basement family room of Roger's house. Arnie had swallowed two beers along with a lot of Pepsi, and, asthma or no, had tried to inhale a hit from someone's joint. He was very tired and a not a little buzzy when the lights went out and the conversation got quiet. Arnie remembered suddenly realizing what was going to happen. They had all undressed in the dark. Roger pressed a small packet into Arnie's nervous hand. Roger was buck naked and hard as a rock. Julie was naked...Debbie was too!

Arnie had beat the meat with his friends more than once, watching Ben's eclectic collection of porn vidoes, but oh, God... this was too fast, too fast! In the gloom he could see Dirk jacking off... no, wait, he was doing something to his dick while Julie was kissing him... Then Arnie knew what Roger had given him: it was a RUBBER! He found himself standing, clad only in his socks, in between two sets of his classmates going at it on the carpeted floor. It was just like in the pornos, but it was real. Dirk was saying "Yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah.." continuously. Roger was silently fucking Debbie as she panted and stared blankly at the dark ceiling. Arnie wondered why he wasn't excited, why he was kinda sick, why he was so scared. Just as he was going to find his clothes and get the hell out of there, Roger made a growling sound and Debbie wrapped her plump legs around his pale butt. She said "...Roger, Roger..." in a wierd voice and then Roger grunted "AWWUH! UH! UH!" and began to hump her wildly. The couple tapered off to spasmodic twitching and then Roger got up and gestured to Debbie on the floor. The boy's condom-covered dick was gleaming and wet and the smell...! Arnie went into overload. "All yours, dude, she's waitin', Noidy..." Dirk's little ass was a white blur in the darkness of the room. Roger went into the bathroom to flush his rubber while Dirk approached his own climax. The smaller boy went "EEEYUHHHH!" and then squealed loudly as Julie begged him not to stop, but he did anyway. Just as Arnie was opening up the Trojan and wondering how he was going to get hard enough to put it on, the door at the top of the stairs burst open and a girl called down to them: "YOU GUYS!! COPS!! THE COPS ARE HERE! COPS! RUN!!!"

"SHIIIT!" squealed Dirk again, this time in panic as the five kids erupted into a frenzy of trying to get dressed. Dirk turned the lights on and Arnie swiped them off again. "Yeah...no lights!" grunted Roger as he struggled to help Debbie with her bra. Arnie got dressed in microseconds, then Roger said:

"This way! Out the window! It goes to the yard and then the alley!"

They all scrambled out the high window, standing on the TV set and pushing the person ahead out into the night. Arnie was second to last out, and he turned to help Julie, who was still half-dressed and whimpering. "You okay?" he asked.

"Nooo, I'm s-scaaaared, I'm scaaaared..." She began to blubber. Arnie didn't know what to do, but then footsteps pounded into the yard and a flashlight beam darted accross the bushes. "Stay here, be quiet, they won't find you, but ya gotta be quiet! Cry later...okay?"

"O-okay (hup! hup!) But I'm so scaaaared..." she whispered piteously.

"Me too, it's alright, me too." It was all he could think of.

Then Arnie was running, out through the dark backyard, with men's voices calling out "Stop, you there, freeze, son..." but he wasn't sure they meant him so he dashed for the safety of the alley. He scaled the wooden fence in an adrenalin-fueled moment of Olympic performance and 'hit the ground running', as they say. The night wind rushed past the terrified boy as his legs took him farther from the noise and confusion, deeper into the safe darkness, then he was winded, walking, panting... getting dizzier and sicker, so tired, so dizzy, don't feel good...

Arnie retched and gagged, slumping to his hands and knees in the gravel beside an overgrown fence. He coughed and gagged again, and proceeded to barf up everything he had eaten for weeks, it seemed. Broken glass bit into his palm, but couldn't move without getting the heaves again. He stayed bent down, shaking uncontrollably, as miserable as he had ever been in fourteen years. The pain in his hand grew and he slumped to his side. A police squad car turned the corner of the alley and swept past him, covering him with dust. His dark clothes had saved him from detection. "Owww.." he whispered, holding his bleeding palm. He retched again, but there was nothing left. After hours, it seemed, he struggled to his feet and walked the two blocks to his house. With all that had just happened to him, he figured his Mom and step-dad would be up waiting for him, but the house was dark and he got into his bedroom incognito. He found a bandaid and smeared it on his dusty, bloody hand after he had stripped out of his vile clothing. He got in bed shaking and sick, started to cry, and had then passed out.

"You ever fuck her again?" Roger asked Dirk. They were obviously thinking of the same night. The boys were crossing the vacant lot by Arnie's house on the way to Shakey's.

"Yeah, once, but it wasn't all that good..." sneered Dirk.

"Why?" asked Ben. "All fucks are good!"

"How would you know?" asked Roger, who knew.

"Hey, I done it, I done it..."

"With who, Ben? Yer hand don't count!"

"Or yer dog.." added Dirk.

"Fuck you, Dirk, I got laid, okay? Now shut up you guys..."

"How about you, Noidy? Got any yet?" plied Roger.

"No."

"How come, Noidster? Debbie was gonna let ya, she thinks yer cute, dude, she told me.."

"I dunno Dirk, when it happens, it happens. I just hope the cops leave us alone then..."

"Yeah." said Roger. "I least I came first. Ben, you shoulda heard the Dirk-miester! '...Oh yeah! Oh yeah! So good! So good...'"

"He does that jackin' off, too..."

"Eat shit, you guys, I like the feelin', I can't help it.."

"Hey...who's that?" asked Ben. The boys looked where he was pointing. A kid they'd never seen before was sitting in the dirt of the lot, playing with a model car. He was running it around himself, making car noises while controlling it with his transmitter. He was dressed sort of geeky, like it had been school picture day, and he hadn't changed. Arnie noticed the mood of his friends shift. Nothing was said, but they walked over to the new kid and stood around him menacingly. The boy looked up, squinting against the sun. He stood up to face them.

Love at Last
2 of 3
(for: Ianthe)

He was their age apparently, but not tall. He was actually a half-inch taller than Dirk, but because he was a little heavy, he looked short. He had jet-black hair with blue highlights, a round, gentle, almost white face, with thin eyebrows and down-slanting eyelids that made him look sad and kind all at once. He had a terrific underbite, and the hint of a double chin. His upper lip was pushed out by his buck teeth, which showed on his lower lip even when his mouth was closed. His braces made the condition even more pronounced. He was just about five feet tall, maybe a hundred-ten pounds. He gathered his car and transmitter up and started to back away, looking around for escape routes, but they surrounded him like a pack of dogs.

"Nice car, dude, where'd ya steal it?" asked Dirk, pushing forward to confront the unknown youth.

"Ah did na' steal nuthin', 'twas a present from me Da." he said quietly.

"Hey...where you from, kid?" growled Ben.

"Pittman. It's near Dublin. That's in Ireland...." Arnie was taken with the gentle lilt of the boy's voice. He could see the fear in those grey eyes. He knew what was going to happen. He tried to head it off.

"C'mon, guys, let's go eat. I'm starvin'..." he said.

"What makes you think you can come here and use our field to play in, huh? Don't you have rules where you come from?" Dirk was in the kid's face now, sustained by the others around him. Arnie had thought before he didn't like Dirk, now he was sure of it. Dirk was going to pick a fight with this kid, and the others were going to go along with it.

"I didn't see no sign, Ah'm soory. 'Town't happen again, promise! Ah'll just be goin' home now, afternoon, fellows..."

"I wanna play with yer car, kid." said Dirk.

"Maybe tomorra', we can play, me Mum'll be worried now, Ah got to go.."

Dirk shoved the boy suddenly, sending him down on his butt in the dirt. "Hey, asshole, don't be selfish, you wanna get yer ass kicked?"

Arnie saw the excitement on Roger's and Ben's faces. He was helpless. He wildly tried to think of anything that would de-fuse the situation. "C'mon, Dirk, he didn't do nothin', let's go eat. Maybe tomorrow we can check out his car, like he said. C'mon, guys, let's go.."

"Yeah, let's go." said Roger. "This dude's too pussy to mess with."

Ben and Roger turned to go. Dirk stood for a minute before the boy, who was still on the ground. "Here, dude, let me help you up.." he said holding out his hand. The other boy grasped it and Dirk pulled him up. Then, before anyone could react, Dirk kicked the kid square in the nuts. A scream of agony burst from the boy. Arnie, shocked, called out "Dirk! No! Dirk...!" But Dirk was already swinging, and as the Irish boy bent forward in mortal pain, Dirk knocked him backwards with an uppercut to the nose.

"Jesus, Dirk, cool it...let's get out of here.." muttered Roger as he pulled the little bully away.

"Hey, guys, look! He's bleedin' on his shirt!" said Ben, gleefully pointing at the prostrate boy.

Arnie's head was spinning. He couldn't believe Dirk had done that, though it wasn't the first time by any means. "C'mon, dude!" called Ben to him as they walked away. Arnie looked from the boy on the ground, to his 'friends' retreating backs, to the boy again. He lay on his side, curled up, both arms jammed between his legs, blood dripping steadily from his nose. Arnie ran to catch up with the others. He was sick. He didn't know what to do... or did he?

"Um, guys, I kinda ain't hungry, I'm gonna go home. I, I'll see ya later, maybe. I got like a headache."

"Hey Noidy, yer gonna miss the hot babes at Shakey's, dude." said Dirk.

"Maybe later. See you guys..." Arnie turned before they could say anything more. He flew back to the vacant lot. The boy was still on the ground in the hot sun, rocking back and forth and keening softly to himself. Arnie knelt in the dust and reached out to him.

"Go awa', awa' with you, have you no mercy?" the boy gasped.

Tears started in Arnie's eyes. "I...I'm sorry, kid. I didn't know they were gonna do that. I tried to stop him, but it was too late. I hate those guys, I came back....I came back to help.... please.." Arnie did his best not to bawl like a baby. He got the tail of his shirt and tried to stop the boy's nosebleed. "Can (hup! snif!) can you get up? We can go to my house, it's right over there, I'll help you.."

He sat the boy up. The kid groaned and said "Ah, me pills, they're achin' so. Christ, and what'd Ah do t'yer mate?"

"Dirk's an asshole. I can't believe this, kid. That's why I came back. I hate those guys, they always get me in trouble. Can you stand?"

"Oooo, it aches, it aches..." said the boy bending over and holding his stomach. Get me car, would ya?"

Arnie got the car from the ground, discovering that the boy had possibly fallen on it. It's top was bent and the antenna was missing. Arnie and the boy began the long slow trip across the street. After many stops and much groaning, they got up to Arnie's bathroom. No one was home, so he didn't have to make up explanations. Arnie ran cool water and got the boy's nose taken care of. He helped the kid slip off his torn and bloody shirt. Arnie, stressed though he was, caught his breath as the boy's torso came into view. Had Arnie known the word, 'alabaster' would have described it. Arnie suddenly wanted to hug and kiss this kid, though he dared not. The boy was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, both hands pressing in on his abdomen.

"Ah've got to get me knickers off for a bit, d'ya mind?"

"Um, no, of course not. Are you feelin' better?"

"Not worse, that's a blessin'. Ahhh, Christ but that hurts..."

He was trying to bend over to take his shoes off. Arnie knelt and did it for him, and then, much to his own amazement, he popped the button on the boy's slacks and gently worked them down the plump white thighs. Then there were just the cotton briefs. Arnie could see the bulges of the boy's stuff nestled between his legs. The kid stood for a moment, bent over, shucked them down, then sat back heavily with a groan, leaning back against the toilet with his eyes closed. Arnie was transfixed. The boy had a light dusting of fine black wisps right at the base of his cock, which looked a little smaller that Arnie's sturdy five-incher. Their balls were the same size though.

"Christ, Christ...am Ah bleedin' any? Ah can't bear t'look.."

Arnie, gently, reverently, reached out and lifted the boy's balls, holding his dick aside as he did so. There was nothing sexual in what he was doing... Arnie sincerely wanted to help this person.

"Uh...ah Christ... it's still achin' down there."

Arnie looked up at him. "Nothin's bleedin', I don't see any bruises, I think it might be okay."

"Ah was scared there. Me mate Jerry back home got kicked in football and was in hospital for a week, pissin' blood and screamin' like the devils' own choirboy."

"You're ok, uh..... what's your name? I'm Arnold Terman, but everyone calls me Arnie."

"Ah'm Kerry, that's for Kieran Monaghan. Where's me knicks?"

"Huh?"

"Ma clothes, can't be goin' around naked all the day."

Arnie helped Kerry get dressed. "Where might me car be? You brought it, didn't ya?"

"Yeah, but it got a little broken..."

"Whaaa... oh, sweet Christ, no, me Da'll have me arse, 'twas brand new this mornin'...."

"I think I can fix it, I've got a workshop downstairs. You wanna see?"

Arnie led Kerry down to the basement where his ham radio station and his workbench were. (Kerry was amazed.) Arnie set right to work, and in half an hour had the rollbars bent back square and a new antenna cut and soldered on. They tested the car around the basement and it seemed fine. Kerry seemed to be healing too. A funny, fuzzy, very strange feeling was growing in the back of Arnie's head. He could hardly keep from staring into Kerry's round face, and the boy's eyes! Arnie had never considered it before, but he felt sure he could see Kerry's soul in his intelligent grey eyes. He realized with a shock that he was staring. He quickly looked down at his sneakers. "Sorry..." he mumbled.

"Nothin' for ya t'be sorry for, Arnie Terman. 'Tis me that owes you thanks for your kindness. Ah, Ah fancy we're friends now, p'rhaps? I left all me mates back home, Ah've no-one here, save you. You've been most kind.." Kerry sighed and gazed into Arnie's face. He looked the same as when Arnie had first seen him, sad and kind, all at the same time.

"I'm so sorry for what Dirk did to you, Kerry..." Hot tears filled Arnie's brown eyes and ran down his cheeks. He tried to speak but Kerry hugged him!!! He tentatively raised his arms around the boy's chest and hugged back. "Sure and you're a decent fellow, Arnie. Ah hope we can be mates for a long time. Me Mum'll be frantic, Ah should go, but Ah'd rather stay here, if you want to know..."

Arnie was still rather overcome. "You wanna spend the night with me? Like, come over for dinner and stay here? I got twin beds from when my brother and I shared my room, but he's at college now so it's all mine."

"Yer Mum'd no mind?"

"I'll ask her, but I'm pretty sure it'll be cool. Call me around six this evening, we'll have fun. Cool, Kerry?

The boy collected his car and transmitter, and they went upstairs. It was all Arnie could do to keep from touching Kerry, from hugging him again, maybe just a quick peck on the forehead.... and there was this completely baffling, but growing feeling, that somehow, Kerry would let him... somehow, Kerry would understand, would maybe, kiss....him...

"Thanks again Arnie Terman, Ah'll be ringin' you on this number right at the stroke o' six... 'til then, mate.."

The door closed. Arnie floated up to his room in a daze. He remembered the two cute kids at the mall...what had he named them? Oh yeah, Dana and Justin. Arnie laid down on his bed, pulling his jeans and shorts down. He was hard before he even got the Vaseline out. He began to narrate the story of how Justin and Dana learned how to jack off from this fourteen-year-old boy who was babysitting them for a weekend. Even though he had memorized their faces, he kept seeing Kerry. But that was no good, Kerry wasn't that kind of boy... or was he? In his fantasy the little kid he was sucking off suddenly had Kerry's dick and balls, was Kerry's size... unbelievable feelings gripped Arnie as he fantasized about what it would be like to have Kerry love him, want him to hug and kiss... but Kerry wasn't like the other guys.. Arnie tried valiantly to haul his fantasy around to 'Dana' and 'Justin', but the incredible, intense feeling came thundering back as he remembered Kerry had *hugged* him. Kerry had let Arnie *undress* him... Arnie could still hear the exotic music of Kerry's soft, high voice: 'Ah should go, but Ah'd rather stay here...'

Nothing had prepared Arnold Terman for the overwhelming experience that happened next. "Orgasm" is just a start. The boy launched himself up off his bed, just heels and shoulders, holding his spurting cock straight out from his rigid teenage body as he made an unearthly howl of purest exstacy. He felt, for the first time, completely synchronized sexuality. Every part of his body was involved in his coming. Arnie had felt good orgasms before, but this......

As the Magnitude Ten receded from the twitching boy, he went suddenly limp and crashed back down into his bed, gasping for breath and sure that he was going to have a heart attack and die naked with sperm all over everywhere. He couldn't move, didn't care. He pulled the sheet over his waist and slept the sleep of the dead.

Love at Last
3 of 3
(for: Ianthe)

Somehow, Arnie was awake. He was as disoriented as a kid can get. His mother was calling up the stairs to him.

"Arnie, Arnie, honey, there's someone on the phone for you, dear, can you hear me, Arnie?"

SHIT! KERRY!! "Yeah Mom, tell 'em to wait, I'll be right there, just a sec!" He yanked up his now very wrinkled jeans, catching one of his full pink nuts in the waistband of his underwear and then zipping up some pubic hair, just to make things perfect. He felt sympathy for Kerry, how Dirk must have hurt his friend... his friend who was now on the phone waiting for him...

"Oh, please, God, please please please let Kerry spend the night, pleeeease.." Arnie flew down the stairs in his stockinged feet.

"Do we know this boy, Arnie?" his mother asked him as he reached for the receiver. "I can hardly understand him."

"He's from Ireland, Mom." said Arnie.

"And where else'd Ah be from, mate?"

Arnie melted into the chair by the phone table. His heart actually started to beat loudly. "I was talkin' to my Mom, I told her where you were from."

"Me Mum wants t' talk with yer Mum, concernin' me stayin' there this night. Are ya still keen to have me for a guest, Arnie?"

"..Huh..? Sure! Get your Mom, here's mine.."

"Mom, my friend Kerry wants to have dinner with us and maybe spend the night if it's okay with you, his Mom wants to talk to you about it, is it okay, Mom? Kerry's a really neat guy, you'd like him!" Mrs. Terman, used to the quicksilver social arrangements of the modern adolescent, finds herself talking to Mrs. Monaghan.

"He.. hello? Hello? Yes, this is Darlene Terman... yes, pleased to meet you. Yes, that's what Arnold just this moment informed me.. (she gives her son one of those 'you know better' looks) no, of course not, it's no problem. Yes, that will be fine. No, I think the boys are having pizza, so I'm not cooking. All right Mrs. Monaghan... Catherine, yes, thank you, all right Catherine, I'll see that he behaves... you have our number if anything goes wrong. Yes, good evening to you too. "

Arnie was close to tears again. Things were going his way for a change. He gave his surprised Mom a big hug and a peck on the cheek. "Thanks, Mom, this is really neat of you..." Ten minutes later the doorbell rang.

Arnie yanked the door open and there was Kerry, dressed in corduroy pants and a light colored long sleeve shirt. A workout bag was slung over his shoulder. As soon as he saw Arnie, a big grin lit up his face.

"And how are ya mate, 'tis been a long time.."

"Mom, this is Kerry, that's short for Keerun, or .. something.." Arnie faltered, confused and embarrassed.

"Kieran it is, 'kay oi ee are ay en', Kieran, but call me Kerry, 'twill be easier. Pleased 't make yer acquaintance, Miz. Terman. Me Mum sends her regards."

"Pleased to meet you, Kerry. I was just going to place the pizza order, do you want anything special?"

And so the evening went. After they demolished the pizza and salad, Arnie showed Kerry his radio stuff, his electronics equipment, his books, his computer, his world. It was as if he and Kerry had grown up together. They became best friends in an instant. And it was mutual, not just wishful thinking on Arnie's part. For the first time in his young life, Kieran Monaghan, late of Dublin, Ireland, felt that undeniable, amorphous, complex *feeling*, the feeling that lets you know something's different about this other boy, there's a *reason* you two are suddenly best friends... Kerry in turn regaled Arnie with stories of his life ten thousand miles away in a different country. Arnie began to pick up bits of Kerry's wonderful soft brogue, and Kerry found himself adding 'cool' and 'awesome' to his lexicon. About midnight, Arnie's Mom came up and suggested they get some sleep. "Cool, Miz. Terman." said Kerry brightly.

Kerry dug into his bag and got out a huge shirt and laid it on his bed. "Who goes first in the bath, then?"

"Um, dude, you can.. the soap and towels are in there."

"Right, I'll just be a flash."

"Don't play with yourself.." said Arnie without thinking, and was then instantly sorry.

Kerry turned around in the door of the bathroom. "There's better t'be had than just me poor old mitts, Arnie." He closed the door and turned on the shower. Arnie was taken aback. What did he mean? I wonder if he means... but no, that couldn't be.. Arnie was suddenly consumed with the need to peek. He padded over to the door.. Kerry hadn't locked it. Suddenly trembling, Arnie pushed the door open a crack. The steam smelled like, well, like Kerry, or so he thought. He tried to see in. Kerry was standing in the shower with the curtain pulled across it. Arnie waited till the water went off, and then Kerry stepped out white and dripping, groping for a towel. The boy was in profile to Arnie, and he saw Kerry's fat little dick bouncing on top of his balls as he dried himself. Arnie was breathless. Kerry's sparse pubic hair was matted to his round belly, and his balls were large and pink and so soft looking. Arnie drew the door closed and went back over to his bed. A moment later, Kerry came into the room, the towel over his shoulder, and nothing else! Arnie was aroused and ashamed simultaneously. Kerry acted as if being naked was the natural thing to do. Arnie was speechless.

Kerry sat down facing Arnie. "Check me out again, mate, Ah've still a bit of an ache in me pills..."

Arnie was on his knees before Kerry in a second. He was surrounded by Kerry's smell, fresh and still damp from the shower. Kerry spread his pale legs and Arnie once again gently lifted the boy's balls, looking for bruises or other marks. Much to his astonishment, Kerry proceeded to pop a stiff boner while Arnie felt around his scrotum. Arnie was concerned how to react, but Kerry just said "Well, Arnie, looks like Willie's as he should be, Ah'll wager a good spunk'll set things right."

Arnie had no idea what Kerry was talking about, but he loved the sound of it, and he figured it had something to do with sex. Kerry stood up and pulled the big shirt over his head. It went down to his knees and bulged very prominently where his erection was. "'Tis a shirt, 'tis a tent, 'tis many things, Arnie.." and then he broke up laughing, Arnie with him. "Dude, I gotta take a shower, don't make a mess all over my bedroom..." Kerry noticed that, although Arnie got undressed in the bathroom, nonetheless the slim lump in the boy's Dockers told him all he needed to know. He hoped Arnie was maybe getting the hint, as well. Arnie's tender, delicate touch between his legs filled him with the most delicious wanting.

Kerry had a good idea what was happening to him emotionally, much better in fact than Arnie. For five stellar months he had known love and affection. Six weeks past his thirteenth birthday, Jerry Stewart, his lifelong friend, suddenly got 'serious'. The boys had no frame of reference, so they just plunged ahead into the turbulent waters of adolescent emotion. Then, just as gentle Kieran had become used to his life again, his father accepted a transfer to his company's headquarters in America, and Jerry had laid waste to Kerry's soul one night as he coldly, and with no warning, informed his friend that his (Jerry's) life belonged to Jesus now, and that he had recognized his vocation and would devote himself to the priesthood. He did offer to help Kerry confess his carnal sins, as he had just done. Quite oddly, Kerry had never even cried. He just shook Jerry's hand and wished him well. Three months after that, the boy found himself in an American suburb, surrounded by uncouth, unfriendly kids he couldn't understand half the time, and who tormented him without cease. And now, against impossible odds, there was Arnie in his lonely life, beautiful serious Arnie, O Christ what a fella'd give to know what he's thinkin', is he all alone like me, is there no one special to listen, to care....?

Kerry felt his eyes fill and he quickly wiped them with his palm. He thought of Arnie's eyes, and how much he wanted to give his friend the best wank a boy ever could have. Kerry knew he loved Arnie, knew that somehow he must find the courage to find out how Arnie felt, but he was still a fourteen-year-old boy, and he hadn't been tossed off by anyone other than himself in months....

Arnie stood, drying himself, eyeing his clothes piled on the floor. His heart was pounding again. Right on the other side of the door was Kerry, his friend, who seemed to be really cool when it came boners and stuff like that, but what about.... what about doin' it? Did Kerry know how to do it? Did he ever do it with a girl? Did he jack off with guys? Did he want to do with old Arnie, 'cause Arnie sure wanted to give Kerry a long, satisfying... all at once the youngster hardened up so stiff it hurt. He knew from long experience that only coming would help him out. Shit! Shit! Now what? Arnie bit his lip. This was too important to fuck up! He wrapped the towel around his waist, but his bone stuck out like a rhino horn in front of him. He tried to drape the towel over his shoulder, but... no good.

"Oh, fuck this!" he said, and walked out into his room, naked, hard, and in love.

Kerry looked over and his wonderful grey eyes went wide. "Ach, Arnie, you're beautiful, d'you know that? You really are the handsome one."

Arnie was stunned again, speechless. "Kerry, I...I... Kerry, when you let me t-t-touch you, cause you were hurtin', dude, I just thought, that, well, you.... awww, Kerry... you look beautiful, too. To me, that is, I, you know... sorry... uh, dude."

"Let's put out the lights and have a talk, just us, Arnie."

The room was dark in a moment. Kerry patted the bed beside him. "Sit here, will you....." Kerry was shaking, very, very softly. He stared at Arnie, the most peculiar expression on his round face. Arnie felt his skinny hand enveloped in both of Kerry's.

"In me life, Ah only knew but a little about love. Sure, Ah've done me share o' wankin', you call it 'jackin' off' Ah think.. (Arnie giggled) but 'twas never like this, never like you'n me, never this sudden, like... Arnie, A'm so scared......" Arnie was startled. He found Kerry's gaze and held it. He kneaded the boy's soft round shoulder with his free hand.

"Why are ya scared, Kerry? Is anything wrong?"

"Arnie... how do you, do you, . ...ohh, Christ, Christ!"

"Kerry.." Arnie whispered, breathless, awestruck. "Are you gonna tell me you love me...."

"Y...... Y........ "

"Kerry." Arnie sighed. "Me too...."

Kerry's mouth gaped open and he made small choking noises in the back of his throat. He felt the tears start again. "You must think me a proper baby, blubberin' all the time. Can't help it, Arnie, can't..." Kerry broke down completely and laid his head over on Arnie's bare shoulder. Arnie put his arms around Kerry, tenderly, with the most affection he was capable of. Kerry was crying convulsively hard in his arms, at the same time trying to be quiet and not bring Mom. Arnie focussed on the boy's face inches from his. "I love you, Kieran Monaghan!" he managed to croak. The boy in his arms hugged him fiercely back. "And you, 'tis you must be with me my whole life through, Arnold me love, me life..." and then Kerry was sobbing uncontrollably again.

Arnie kissed his love's tears, rubbed his face to the other boy's, whispered "I love you so much, Kerry" in his ear, and then, though neither had ever done it before, they laid back on the bed in each other's arms and kissed, hesitantly at first, then passionately, and then Kerry's hands were all over him, and he explored Kerry too, ending up on top of the warm, soft, intelligent boy. Each was acutely aware of the other's boner pressing into their bellies. Kieran caressed Arnie's hips as he began to gently hunch himself up and down. Arnie felt Kerry's incredibly soft balls rhythmically lifting up into his. The nightshirt had somehow gotten removed, and the two kids lay intertwined, arms and legs and hungry mouths, pale young bodies writhing together till they became as one person, one soul in two bodies, then Kerry was holding him frantically down against his bucking hips and calling softly "Christ, Arnie, Christ, here it comes, aaawwwwggghhhhh, OUU! OH,OUU! OU! OU! OU!" spurting pearlescent ropes of slippery joy between them while Arnie, lost in bliss and love, awkward teenage elbows and knees locked to his beloved's softness, cried out: "For you Kerry, this is for you, this is for you... huh! ohhhHHHHHHHhhhhhhh...." as another impossible climax detonated within him and his own joyous offering pumped thickly into Kerry's. Then they were still, lost in the awesomeness of what God had granted them, afraid to speak, afraid to move, each certain beyond words of the other's purest love.

Dearest Kieran, Kerry my love:

I have written this little remembrance to you on the occasion of the fortieth anniversary of that day last century when Dirk unwittingly gave me the greatest gift one could ever bestow. I know you will read this, and I know you will get all sloppy-Irish-sentimental, and I love it, dear one, I just love it! You kept your word, my old friend. I never wanted another to share my life. You said, when we were but children, that I was to be with you your whole life through, and so it is! Can you believe it's been all this time? And forty more, if we're lucky, my darling, my Kerry.

Remember the words to that song, that used to make you cry?

"And if the good Lord is kind /
you'll be the last thing on my mind..."

Sometimes writing is a good way for me to talk, even if you're only asleep in the next room. I wonder how much of this you will recall, how much I have forgotten? I have made for you this little gift of Time, my love. I think you'll like it. You'll certainly let me know if you don't.

arnie

Last modified (12/24/96 14:20:51) by Eli-the-Bearded.

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