Mentor:

I was a Junior when my dad finally got the basement of the house converted into an apartment.  Within 3 days of running the ad - we had a tenant.  He was a guy who worked at the plant with my dad - who had just gone thru a divorce & lost his house to the ex-wife & her lawyer.  His name was Bill & Dad said he was a good guy & an honest worker.  Dad promised with the extra money from rent - that we'd be able to do some of the things we'd always dreamed about but never had the means to accomplish.  I asked "Like college?".  He nodded.  Dad & I had worked a "deal".  I'd helped him convert the basement & instead of me being able to live there, I'd get 33% of the rent.  That was about $200/month.  Since Bill had paid first, last & security - I made $400 that day.  I was like'n it!

The next day, after school - I discovered that Bill had already moved in & got a call from his ex - telling him that he had ended up with something in full from the divorce: Custody of their 14 year old son: Tate.  He'd be transferring to my school & Bill was waaaaay thankful that Dad had an extra bed to put into the small, 2nd room - transforming it into a bedroom (or a jail cell).  Tate was going to show up later on that evening.  It worked out ok ... being a Friday & all.

At about 7:PM, headlights came up our long driveway & the cab driver helped Tate with his large travel cases.  Man ... was that cab stuffed full!  Since it was dark outside - I couldn't make out any faces - just shadows.  Figuring I'd be friendly - I went outside to give a hand with the baggage.  As I got closer to the shadowy figure - I extended my hand & spoke, "Yo ... you must be Tate.  I'm Kirk." 

The the deep gentle voice of an angel replied, "Wow ... I'm glad I got the right house ... I barely had enough left to tip the cab driver."  I was totally unprepared to hear that voice come out of a 14 year old.  Dad said he was a "kid", so I'd thought something more like Peter Brady's "Time to Change" voice would be what I'd hear, -- not Josh Harnet's vocal twin.  As my eyes adjusted, I could make out more of the features of this guy's face.  He stood about 5'8" & as my eyes focused -- he had a well proportioned frame under his Bean jacket. 

"Dude ... how old are you?", I asked as he shook my hand in his large gripper.

"15, - Next week...", that wonderful voice replied.

"Let me help you with this stuff...", I said as I grabbed 2 large bags &  3 of the smaller ones.

"Thanks....", Tate replied as he picked up the remaining & followed me.  The bags were heavy but something drove me to not show any signs of strain as I carried them down the stairs - turning the light on as I got to the bottom <duh>!   I opened the door & navigated around all the stuff that Bill had left for unpacking - & led Tate to his room.  I put the bags down & turned toward him just as Tate dropped his - bending away from me slightly.  As he stood back up & smiled at me, my heart stopped (or at least forgot to completely beat several times).  Tate caught me staring in began to look his jacket over as if he'd spilled something on it. "What!", rolled out of that sexy throat as a smile crossed his face. "Did I get ketchup on my collar or something.  Just watching that handsome head of his move around on top of those perfect shoulders made my knees weak.

"15 - get out of here!", I challenged. "You've got more 5 o'clock shadow than I do...", I went on with a big smile.

Tate grinned as he shook his head country-boy style & he swore, "Nope ... 15.  Early bloomer - that's all...", he insisted.

"Well, ok ... ", I offered in consolation as I looked around as if making sure I could say out loud what I was thinking. "But you know what they say about early bloomers...", once again, my eyes darted around & Tate's expression locked as he hung on my words. I continued: "...Early bloomers age really fast ... like when you're only 20, you'll look really old ... maybe 30!", I revealed in a excited whisper.

"No way!...", Tate replied with a shocked look on his face.  I nodded somberly as fear slowly crept into his soul.  Yup...only a 14 year old would swallow that rumor - I reasoned in my mind. I glanced at him & grinned a long grin.  His expression turned to mild disgust mixed with a smile of relief as he caught on that I was only joshing him.  I tapped him in the shoulder & he lit up with a smile that lit the room.  It was a small room & Tate worried out loud that he was going to have a difficult time with his stuff if there was a bed in it too.  I looked around & then up.

"We could build ya a loft overhead...", I suggested.  He looked up. 

"Yeah ... right under that air duct...", he said pointing up at the air exchange vent on the ceiling.  It looked like a good idea to me, so we took the next hour discussing plans & eating about everything in the house upstairs.  All the while, I found his personality & animal magnetism totally enamoring.  Yeah, - I'd known since I was 13 that I was into guys -- but I always hid it & tried to keep my mind on other things.  I even had a couple of great friends from school who'd share an occasional discrete roll in the blankets & dick wrestle.  Now I found myself hanging out with the studliest guy I'd ever met in my entire existence & I talking to him about building a bed so that he can sleep - hovering in the air less than a meter below where I have my bed!  That vent was made so that you couldn't see thru the grates -- but I was already running ideas around in my mind to change that!

Bill got home a while later & we shared the plan with him.  He seemed relieved that his kid wasn't going to have to live in 'cellblock 2'.  Anyway - Tate & I ended back upstairs again - on my bed watching a movie.  I piled the pillows all up on the far end so we could lay there - propped up by them & watch Star Wars reruns. I wasn't watching the movie.  I was watching Tate watch the movie - with that strong body that would shift & move in response to the plot.  As he began to nod off, I wrapped my left arm around him & held him closer to me.  When he finally fell asleep, I used the remote control to kill the TV & just laid there with my new buddy & neighbor snug-up against me.  It was warm so we didn't need covers & as the night progressed, Tate rolled on his side with his arm across me as I continued to hold him.  I could tell he had a great body under his clothes because of the hardness & heft of it against mine.  And his face ... I don't know how to describe the effect that his face had on me.  I had people tell me that I was a good look'n dude -- but this guy was a 10.1!  I was beginning to feel protective, possessive & connected to the guy as he laid there.  At about 2:30AM, he changed position slightly & slid his big arm down so his hand was between my legs.  I tightened my hug on him slightly & pressed my face a little harder into the top of his head - breathing in his hair smell & feeling his body move in pulses as his heart beat & he slowly breathed.  My breathing was a bit faster as the weight of his forearm on my crotch pushed my dick over the edge making it vomit it's male contents into my shorts - & then dry heave for a while as I tried to make my memory remember that event for all time.  I guess I was successful. 

I'd know him for less than 8 hours & my mind could think of nothing else.  Even after I'd just dumped my nutt - I just wanted to cuddle him.  Nobody had warned me that feelings could be this intense - this fast.  I knew he'd be 15 in a week, but I was almost 18.  The age difference didn't matter to me - but I suspected that it might be a problem for a little while if he wanted to reciprocate in the relationship.  I had a few buddies who'd visit from time to time & share a movie & some slow mutual masturbation.  Yeah - they were my buds & I did luv 'em.  The chemistry I was feeling with Tate made those friendships come in at 2nd place, though.  I was hoping with everything in me that he'd be feeling the same thing.  He moaned softly & turned more toward me - putting his arm across my chest & sliding his leg over both of mine.  His perfect head on his strong neck rested on my pec as he shifted slightly - making himself more comfortable.  I already had one arm around him.  Now I rotated a few degrees toward him as I brought the other around his back.  Beneath my hands, I could make out a deep "V" ridge along the centerline of his back that spoke of strong, thick muscles.  His waist-line was much more narrow than his upper torso.  A total stud - totally huggable & preferably in long doses.

At about 5AM, the room began to get really warm.  This usually happened when somebody closed the doors to the hallway - cutting off the hall & thermostat from the house air flow.  The hall would get cold (during the winter & fall) & with the doors closed - the thermostat would call for continual heat - causing the house to overheat until someone opened a hall door.  As my room climbed into the upper 70's, Tate began to stir.  I relaxed my hug & his brow was damp (like mine). 

He awoke into a groggy haze.  He realized where he was & shook me some.  I pretended to awake from sleep.

"Hey, bro...", he said. "You don't have something cold to drink - do you?"

"Yeah...I'll get ya something...", I replied.  I went to the kitchen & poured him a glass of diet iced tea; & put in a few cubes. On my way back to my room, I opened the hallway door.  I arrived back in my room & I could see Tate's silhouette sitting on the bed.  As I approached him, my feet felt some clothing on the floor that hadn't been there when I left.  I handed Tate the large glass of tea & he began to swig it.  Then - with a lump in my throat & one growing in my pants, I walked to my window & opened it about an inch.  Despite the current heat wave ... In 20 minutes - my room was gonna be quite cool - if not cold. 

"Ahhhh... that hit the spot...", Tate whispered as he put the near-empty glass on the floor near the bed's end.  I kicked off my Levi's & sat on the foot of the bed.

"Sorry about the heat wave dude.", I began, "Someone set the thermostat wrong."

"Tha..that's ok.", Tate consoled in a slightly nervous tone.  Where I was sitting, my outline was backlit with a large window letting the moonlight in.  I peeled off my shirt & wiped my face with it - resting with my elbows on my knees & leaning forward some.  "Hey ...", Tate began to speak as he lowered his feet onto the floor & sat up beside me. "I didn't wreck your night's sleep, did I?", he spoke with some concern in his voice as he put his left hand on my shoulder. 

"Are you serious?", I replied - wrapping my arm around his upper body & gently pulling him toward me.  "Having you around is more relaxing than sleep'n with a life size teddy bear.", I said with a grin.  Tate didn't resist my hug - but melded into me.  I slid my right hand along his shoulder & down onto his upper arm. "Feels like you've got a workout routine.  I could sure use a good partner to help keep me on the edge & motivated...", I suggested. 

"Shit - yeah!", he whispered. "I'm starting at your school this week & I'd sure like having a friend built like you to hang out with.  For some reason - I take a lot of shit from upper classman - well, at least in my last school.  I dunno why...', he continued...

"You don't know why?", I asked.  Tate weakly shook his head no against me.  "Bro ... you're totally intimidating...", I went on. 

"Huh?", Tate vocalized. "How?"

"Dude...", I began..."You're Hollywood-handsome with a great physique & an awesome personality!  You drip testosterone from every pore; -- & have a developed thinker between your ears. You make every 'Bubba' with the least bit of an insecurity complex, - insecure.", I explained.

Tate sat beside me stunned for a few seconds.  "That's the nicest thing anyone has ever told me..." - he spoke in a deep, gentle voice putting some more force into his grip around me.  I hugged him back a little harder too.  The room was getting more comfortable as the temperature continued to gradually fall.  "That's how you think people really feel about me?", he asked - still unsure if I was being on the level with him.

"Yeah. Bro.  I met ya tonite.  I know what guys must feel around ya...", I explained.

"Dh duh do you feel like that around me?", Tate asked - a little nervously.

"Me? Nah. I'm secure in who I am..", I began as I raised my left arm pumping my bicep & making a silhouette on the backlighting of the large window.  Tate chuckled softly.  "Besides - I kinda think you're 'cuddly'...", I grinned.

"Huh?"

"Cuddly...", I repeated. "Like - I took to you right away & if anyone messes with ya -- all they're gonna see of me are flying fists & feet.". I could barely make out a perfect smile on Tate's face as he looked at me in the dimness. 

"Thanks...", he softly whispered.  Then he went on: "But - do some guys like...", he paused for a second, "...ever say rude things to you or make crude gestures at you?"  Tate swallowed hard.

"At school?", I asked.

"No ... not there; -- But when you're- like walking down the street minding your own business?"

"You mean ... 'Do men ever make passes at me'?", I clarified.  Tate nodded.

"All the phuck'n time.", I replied.

Tate waited a few more seconds. "What do you do?"

I grinned.  "Depends on who it is...."

"Huh?", Tate pressed - obviously clueless.

"What I'm saying is that there are lots of guys who - for lack of a better term, I call 'FAGS' - are always scoping for some other fag who'll suck their dick or take it up the arse on a whim.  These are the guys who drive by you several times motioning like they have a dick in their mouth & seeing if you're interested.  They're phuck'n disgusting - in so many ways I don't even want to start.  But there is another type of dude...."

Tate swallowed. "Another 'type'?....", he repeated - letting the phrase linger as a question begging an answer.

I concentrated for a few seconds - collecting my thoughts.  "Do you remember that Collegic gymnast from this region a year ago who was in the lead & lost the Bennington Competition by 1 point because someone put GHB in his water?"

"Yeah, Paul Trueman...", Tate replied.  "He was from around here..."

"He attended the same school; -- & was a Senior when I was a Freshman.", I continued.  "He was - and still is - a great friend of mine."

"No shit!", Tate responded.  "That guy is a demigod!  He's broken every regional record for every sport he touched & lots of people wonder if his will ever be beat!  You know him!"

"Yeah ... really well.  He went out of his way to meet me when I was a 'greenie' freshman & didn't have much except my attitude & a pass to the weight room for a body that had been in puberty for a 'whole year' at the time.  Paul had a way of making me feel like I was the most important person in the room.  He did that with lots of people though.  His schedule took him away from the school lots to do special training & he invited me along all the time.  I can't tell you how much that guy taught me about balance & physiology.  I mean -- who the hell was I and why was this guy so great to me?!  Anyway - among all of his friends -- I became one too & the guy became a serious role model; -- not just because he could do anything in the gym & make it look easy - but because of the way he treated people.  He was super patient, never critical & it took a lot to stir his temper; -- and pity the man who did that!"

"So what happened?", Tate asked.  "Did some perv piss him off?"

"Well - fags were always making crude remarks & passes at the guy.  I noticed that when I'd be out walking or running with him.  It really disgusted him - the total disrespect. But, that's not my point.  See, Paul was totally accepting of me at a time when I had all kinds of questions & doubts about me.  He took time out of his day to help me train & talk me thru all the head games that bug every guy who considers whether he's wasting time at his sport.  Nobody in my life had ever been that great to me and in my mind: He was superman and I was one of the insiders.  In the 3rd trimester of my freshman year - Paul had to go to a competition out of state & invited me to go to.  I was like, 'Hell yeah!' & my parents were all for it too.  Well, the flight was great & Paul spent the whole trip talking about the events & what we were gonna do after at the victory party ... and on.  At that state in our friendship, he was always asking for my opinion on this or that & handshaking, huggin & horsing around.  I'd never had a better friend & I swear that I'd have taken a bullet for the guy if I'd ever been called to do that."

Tate listened intently - waiting for the main point.

"Anyway...", I continued.  "The next day, - before the competition, I walked into the hotel bathroom as Paul was emptying his guts down the toilet.  He said it was precompetition nerves.  Up until then, I'd never realized that he was under so much pressure to perform.  Well - he kicked butt in the competition.  I was blown away with what the guy could do.  So was everyone else.  The celebration after the fact was all the pomp you can imagine -- but I noticed that Paul seemed distracted somewhat.  He seemed to be enjoying himself - but I caught him in moments when he thought nobody was looking & he looked kind of sad.  Back at the hotel that night, he didn't eat much & went to bed right after he showered.  With the lights off, I could swear I heard noise coming from his side of the room & as I concentrated, I knew it was hard muffled sobs being soaked up by his pillow."

"Wow...What did you do?", Tate asked.

"Well, I got out of bed & went over to his & sat down beside him with an arm around him.  My best friend in the world was miserable about something -so I did what I could do by being there.  For a few minutes he didn't say anything - but his hand slid over to mine where he just squeezed in a constant firm grip.  Another minute or so passed & he slowly rolled facing me & dropped the pillow away from his face. 
Then he whispered in the saddest voice I've ever heard, "Nobody loves me for who I am -- just for what I can do on the matt...I don't have a single true friend."
I was blown away.  I couldn't figure out why this guy - my best friend in the whole universe felt like that."

"Yeah ... why would he think that for a second?", Tate asked.  "Everyone I know thinks the guy is some kind of sports legend around here!"

"That's exactly what I was thinking too.  I was totally confused.  Then he put both of his arms around me in a gentle hug & pulled me in close to him.  His hug was warm & firm & genuine - from the heart, ya know.  I wrapped both my arms around him & looked him in the eye & told him that I was his friend - no matter what he thought.  Then he moved his head forward & with the gentlest motion - he planted a kiss right on the left side of my mouth."

"Whoa...", Tate interjected. "He kissed you?!?! What did you do!?"

"What did I do? I kissed him back!"

"Really?", Tate said incredulously. "You kissed him?"

"Because I loved the guy & he really was my friend.". I could hear Tate swallow as I continued.  "See, the one thing I knew for sure about Paul was that he was different from the perverts who drove by us on the road making crude gestures & cock-suck faces.  None of them cared jack-shit about being anyone 'friend 'or doing anything other than helping themselves get off.  Paul was full of goodness & strength.  He was gentle & respectful while compassionate & understanding.  There wasn't a vile or indecent mannerism in his body - a body that most guys admired enough to just about kill for to have one like it.  Face it bro -- there isn't a disgusting thing about the guy.  Damn right I kissed him back; -- & I told him that if he kept pushing - he'd get more of the same."

"No way!", Tate yelled in a whisper. "What then?"

"He smiled,  cried & hugged me all at the same time.  See ... for the first time in his life - he'd been transparent with someone & instead of freaking out & yelling 'fag slurs', I just totally accepted him.  He continued cuddling on me & hugging me. Honestly, I was glad that he was happy.  As I laid there, he gradually began to massage me & I'd never felt anything so good in my whole life.  I mean - the guy knew where to rub & all the compassion in him moved out thru his hands.  When he slid my shorts off -- I didn't care."

"Really?", Tate pried. "He got you naked?"

"Really...", I answered in a sure tone. "Hey, I knew the guy would never do anything to hurt me - ever.  I'd been in the shower with him on too many occasions to count.  As a freshman, - I'd only recently discovered the art of the jack-off, but when he slid his experienced palm around my cock & began to slow stroke me - it felt so good I thought I was gonna crawl out of my skin."

"He was jack'n ya?", Tate whispered in an astonished tone - shifting his position slightly.

"Dude ... nothing feels better than having someone else do you. Most guys would give their right arm to have another dude who they trusted - like I did Paul - 'give them a hand'.  It was the most intensely gentle & affectionate things that another dude had ever done with me.  It wasn't any more of a 'gay-thing' in my mind than when it was my hand doing the strok'n.  After all - when a guy does himself -- he's still strok'n a guy!"

"Never thought of it that way...", Tate interjected.  "Did he get you off?"

"Well, he got me to the point where he'd better have not stopped - if you get my drift; -- & then he slid his shorts off."  I could hear Tate swallow hard again & shift position as he listened.  I continued, "He slid his arms around my upper body & guided me on top of him so that we were pec on pec, cock on cock.  His heart was pounding really hard - like mine, - & his dick was a rubbery steel pole beside mine.  He slid his bare feet around to the back of my legs & locked them over my ankles & I wrapped his arms around my upper body.  Over the next few minutes, he slowly rubbed, scratched & massaged me where-ever his hands could reach.  Every so often, his dick would stiffen beside mine & he'd let out a little whimper as his back arched.  That felt really, really good.  I think partly because I knew it was the effect I was having on him.  Anyway, I reached the point where I really want to cumm - so the next time his back arched - I slid my right arm into the space between the small of it & the bed.  This gave me just the leverage I needed to lift myself some & slide my dick along his.  Just a few seconds after I started, I could feel his cock get really, really hard & his eyes began to water up some as he grit his teeth & arched his back.  All the veins near his skin were full of blood - like a good pump after working out -- & his entire body felt about as hard as his dick - with all his straining muscles.  Well, a couple of seconds later he lets out this intense sound - half moan, half crying - as I felt his cock begin to throb hard against mine.  I was gonna shoot too - so I backed up some & the first shot soaked his dick with my jizz - so when I slid forward, there was a lot of lube between us & I used it to milk every last throbb'n drop out of him.  Honestly, I'd never felt anything so good or bonded so close to another dude in my life.

"Weren't you afraid of what people might say if they found out?", Tate asked with astonishment in his voice.

"Shit yeah...I mean - that's not something you advertise ... you know, with someone yelling 'fag!' every 5 minutes in the hallway.  First of all - what happened sure isn't what most people associate with the word 'fag' ... you know?  After all, people say 'fag' & the image everyone gets is a couple of guys with painted nails doing the butt-nasty in front of the AIDS clinic."

Tate chuckled in whispers as he imagined the visual.

"Or, - people think of some dirty old 'fag'", I continued, "who hangs out as rest stops & offers to pay little boys to suck on his fat, wrinkled old wiener.  Then there are the pervs who'll see ya on the road & you'll begin to notice the same car going by - over & over again while you catch them making the most disgusting gestures.  Neither Paul nor I am part of that crowd & we don't want to associate ourselves with the larger crowd they probably mingle in.  And do you know what the real difference is?"

Tate shook his head "No".

"Arse phuck'n....", I replied.

"Huh?", Tate asked.

"The difference is Arse-Phuck'n ... as in: That's something I'd never do to a Bro & nobody better call me one...that is if they like their teeth.".  With that I wrung the knuckles of my right hand in the open palm of my left.  Tate smiled as he saw the motion & heard the knuckles crack as the pressure offset them slightly in the joints. "See, what I learned with Paul is that you can totally love another dude - from soles to spirit & share a friendship that is a magnitude deeper than the butt slapping & high-fiv'n on the field.  Most guys would never admit this because what you're saying is that there are guys who you've been totally phuck'n vulnerable with - or would like to be.  And to make things worse - guys who feel compromised - being perceived as vulnerable may try to relate the whole thing with 'being a fag'.  The difference is that: fags butt-phuck & then want to rub everyone's face in it & get society to give them a wink & nod."

"Well - that,  & it seems what you're talking about is built on something the perverts at the park don't have: Mutual respect...", Tate observed.

"Yeah, I think that's a given - considering the topic.  You've seen those movies about the inside of prisons where some little guy becomes the 'bitch'?"

"Yeah....", Tate answered.

"Well ... you can bet he's not in that position because they respect him; -- & what do they do to the guy? They butt-phuck him; -- bunch of faggots!  Who in their right mind would want to be associated with that lot of pervs?"

"Not me...", Tate answered.

"Diddo, - but society is so phuck'd in the head, that you can't tell most people: 'Yeah - I love that dude like myself.' - without some idiot beginning to talk about arse phuckers - as if there's anything in common.  Pisses me off is what it does..."

"Are you guys still the same kind of friends - even today?", Tate asked with some hesitation in his voice.

"Well -- figure it out: The guy went out of his way to make me feel like one of his circle. He's always been totally respectful to me - even when he was helping me feel the best feelings a guy can experience.  He's handsome, popular & decent beyond description.  Yeah - I wish we were in the same piece of skin.  He's that awesome a friend."

Tate was quiet for a few seconds.  "Wow ... I've been feel'n what you're saying for a while now on some level I guess.  Whenever I met a guy with good looks & a friendly personality - I always tried to push any feelings like you described way down because I was afraid I might be turning 'gay' or something. But - I like girls."

"Do you like ice cream?", I asked.

"Yeah", He replied.

"Do you like hot cheese cake?"

"Yeah", he replied with a confused look on his face.

"Which do you like better?", I asked.

"I dunno ... about the same I guess."

"Well ... if you had to make a choice, - which would it be.", I insisted.

"Ice Cream...I guess..."

"But you'd still like hot cheese cake -- even if you 'had to choose between the two'"?, I asked with a smile.

"Yeah ... of course!", Tate answered with a grin.

I got closer to Tate and put an arm around him.  Reeling him in, I began to whisper: "Some people dislike Ice-Cream & some despise Cheese-Cake; -- But what I can't figure out is: Who the hell are they to tell us that we need to make a choice between the two . . . Hmmmmm?"

Tate smiled. "I get it.  It seems so obvious when you put it like that.".  He swallowed & continued, "To be honest - when I met you today, I felt a lot of those feelings you talked about & just pushed them down like every other time."

I glanced toward the open window.  "Speaking of ice-cream, - it's getting cold enough in here to store it."

"I was gonna mention that...", Tate agreed.  I got up & closed the window.  Getting back to the bed, I pulled the blankets down some & Tate moved out of their way - letting them pass beneath him.  I climbed into bed beside him & pulled them up over us.

"We'll be warm in no time...", I commented.  Tate rolled toward me & put his left arm across my chest as he snuggled up with me. 

"Warm as cheesecake ... I hope...", he whispered with a grin. 

I slid my arm under his torso & pulled him against me tighter.  "Did I mention my diet?", I whispered with a smirk on my face.  Tate grabbed a loose pillow & covered my face with it while he slid on top of me.  I feigned struggling for a few seconds & then relaxed.  As he slid the pillow off my face, I wrapped both arms around him as he cuddled into me.  His hard cock gave a strong throb through our thin shorts.  "Good thing I love Tate'rs ...", I thought out loud...