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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

JM Shorts: That Year With Joe (A Three Part Novella) - 1. Part 1 - Discovering

Part 1

'Discovering'


 

When you think about it, love is a horrible feeling if the person you're in love with does not feel the same back. In fact, I'd say being in love from one side is the equivalent of mental torture.

This story begins with me. But it was me a long time ago. I was in the middle of puberty and all the fun that comes with that. It was also the time I could tell I liked boys. But of course, that had to be a secret. The thought of anyone knowing I knew, would make me feel shame. I don't know why, I'll never know why, but that feeling... shame, I mean, was how it felt. Even though, looking back, I didn't feel ashamed of liking boys.

Weird, I know.

Taking you back to the worst point of my first love will be sketchy, but all of it is true. The boy's name? Joe. Joe was everything at that point. I was 14, and the whole year and maybe more, Joe was all I ever thought about.

Sometimes the yearning for him became so intense I thought I might go mad. Often I would need to leave the house and head off on my bike. I would peddle like crazy, often with tears in my eyes to my 'place.' It was always the same place— a vast flour mill. The mill sat among marshes where a saltwater flat started off a small tidal estuary; I don't know much about the workings of waterways, but sometimes I would get there and it would be grey mud, and other times full to bursting. The mill took in some of the water, I assumed to cool it's machines, but the awesome spectacle was the ejection. This was where from beneath the foundations, used water would spew out. Thousands of tonnes of the used water, gushing into the air which then ran through a concrete channel where it then dropped off back into the estuary. No matter what was going on in your mind when that happened, was taken away by this almighty rush of human design. My place, where I spent much of my time was a wooden bridge that spanned the marsh. At the other end it took you to a dirt path, circumnavigating the marshes which eventually led you through to an industrial estate. In summer, you would find yourself walking through a canopy of bushes and trees, with a small freshwater river just by your side. It can be a beautiful peaceful walk.

Thinking about Joe!

 

~

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~

On hot summer days that particular year, I would ride onto the rarely walked bridge, lean my bike on the handrail and sit down, hanging my legs over the edge. I would stay there for hours, seeing no soul. Think. That's all I did, Think. Think about him. Think about him to the point he so screwed up my mind I thought about suicide. I asked God to take me in a painless accident. I'd never have the guts to do it myself. It had to be a freak accident, I would ask. Unfortunately, I thought about that quite a lot when it got bad - and bad was not having Joe!

I'm not sure why or when the flour mill became an important pilgrimage for me. Perhaps it was the size of the thing. Throbbing, humming. It was pretty therapeutic. Maybe that was why. Sitting there looking at the colossal four silos that sat next to the equally impressive grey monster building. It made me feel small and insignificant. Perhaps in a way, it even grounded me.

Joe was 16, with dirty blond hair. Big into football and had a laddish persona. He connected with adults well. I watched him interact with them. It was crazy how they treated him like a fellow adult. Me? I was a skinny kid. I was just a kid.

So what lead me to feel like this? It all starts next.

~

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~

I met Joe in a pub garden. It was a Friday, I remember. That day is important as you'll find out reading on. Sitting there with my authentically shaped bottle of Coca-Cola, a straw, and a packet of Cheese and Onion crisps, I eyed him walking around collecting glasses. I wouldn't say my feelings seeing him were strange, unknown, odd, fluffy - I just liked him from the moment I saw him. We went to the same school; I now remembered his face. I'd see him over by the tennis courts playing footie with a bunch of other Year 11 kids. But somehow, it was only that pub garden 'viewing' where I really felt a jump in my heart.

So he worked here, at this pub? That was new; I remember thinking. My parents had come to this pub for years... I had sat in it's garden countless times. I wondered why he was here, and liking him that much, I asked him.

I waited until he came closer.

"I think we go to the same school?" I said. I remember thinking that saying that just out of the blue sounded a bit silly.

He turned his head in my direction. "King George?"

"Yeah. You work here?"

"Been here for a few weeks. Looking after the barrels in the cellar. Earning pocket money. Just bleaching the floor, moving casks and putting bottles away."

I nodded. "Oh. So you know Steve and Michelle?"

"A little," he replied. "My Dad is always in here, Mack, you know him?"

I smiled. "Yeah, I do. And he's your Dad? Wow, small world."

Steve and Michelle owned the pub. They had since I was around seven or eight, and my mum and dad had become friends with them. At that point, I thought - I'd never been asked to do the job Joe was doing. In fact, I think I got a little jealous he was asked and not me. But looking back with an adult mind, I now see it was probably an age thing. He was, after all, much bigger and stronger than me, and older by two years.

By now, Joe was sitting the other side of the bench I was on. It was one of those classic pub benches, all made of yellow wood and had arched legs and rows of planks on top. The old ones constantly wobbled. Yeah, you're seeing it now, aren't you?

"Stepdad," Joe said. He's funny ain't he? NOT. Always drunk."

"Huh?" I asked, my mind lost, already thinking about his arms around me.

"Mack? He's my Stepdad, not Dad."

"Oh right, yeah, of course." I replied dreamly, as my gaze met his grey eyes.

Immediately after our short interaction, Joe got up, laughed and took a pace back; I had no idea why.

"Okeeey then," he started.

"Sorry, was I staring? I do that sometimes. I'm not crazy, honest," I said, feeling caught out.

Joe waved me away. "Well, I better get in, or Steve will stop paying me. See ya, yeah. Hmm, actually," he said turning back around, "come play footie with us Monday morning."

"Yeah, Football really ain't my thing. I'm crap at it. I'll come watch though," I suggested, smiling.

Joe shrugged. "Just a thought, but yeah, if watching is your thing. Might see ya Monday."

What the hell did he mean by that?

He walked away, and I looked at his backside, liking how his Levi's fitted him. Of course, this was before the days of skinny... or ultra skinny jeans, but they were tight on him anyway... especially around the ass section.

So that was when it started, really—the little spark of idol worship.

~

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~

There was a youth club near my house which opened every Friday from 7 pm until 9 pm, I'd found out mere days before. I don't know how or when it started, but I ended up going as I learned a few people from my school and town went too. I can't recall who invited me, but someone must of. It was divided into two buildings. The smaller one, contained a dart board, two pool tables and a little tuckshop. There you could buy crisps, chocolate bars and cans of fizzy drinks for slightly lower prices than in the shops. On the other side was a big hall which had markings on a wooden floor for volleyball or badminton. Right at the far end was a small stage and an upright piano. I remember the piano because it was slightly out of tune and sounded funny. Think - old western movie saloon bars.

Joe turned up the night I was there, walking in around 7:40 pm. Those who wanted to kick something around in the hall were given a small plastic ball with holes. They had organised themselves into two teams of five, using anything they had on them as goal posts, and started a game of footie. Joe managed it, of course. I think 16 was at the upper end of ages that came to the youth club, and Joe looked like someone in authority.

I watched them play, sitting on the stage with my mint flavour Club bar and can of Fanta, chatting to a school friend. I always had my eye on Joe, watching as his flexible body moved around the hall trying to dominate the ball. I remember his legs—Chunky, football-standard coated in rich blond wiry hair.

After football was over, he took his T-shirt off, sweating, and I was able to see what he looked like from the neck down for the first time.

Confident little fucker!

I think from a physical reaction, that was first the time I knew I wanted to... had to, 'do something' with him. He was toned, not muscled, but you could see pec plates clearly. No six-pack, but a flat stomach. He looked naturally quite fit. Not too tall, maybe five seven. Lovely square collarbone which connected to firm round shoulders.

With his t-shirt screwed up in his hand, he started walking over to me.

"Didn't see you here. So you just started coming, or have you been hiding somewhere over in the other building each week?" He asked, running his fingers over the small hair trail leading down his stomach. Fuuuuuuuuuck! I sighed mentally.

"Nah, first time."

"Are you following me?" He added, grinning.

Jesus, that smile! "No," I said casually. "I got invited. Didn't even know this place existed until a few days ago. Didn't know you came here either. Maybe it's fate." I finished, sounding a little slaggish when I look back.

Joe flicked his chin out at me. "Oh right. Well, I'm gonna go get a cool drink."

"Wait... erm, so, erm, do you come here each week?" I asked, falling over my words, now suddenly shy, but needing to progress whatever this was.

Joe shrugged. " Depends if I've been kicked out or not. Tonight, I have."

"Huh?" I remember saying. "What do you mean?"

"Home ain't great. Mum and dad usually argue; Dad is usually drunk and I get involved. Finally, my dad kicks me out for the night, same old, same old!"

"Where d'you go after this closes then?"

"A friend, my dad's car, the shed in the garden. It depends." Joe replied in a 'can't be arsed' tone.

He shrugged again and walked away from me, pulling his t-shirt back over his torso.

"You know him?" Asked Paul, the friend sitting next to me quietly as we'd spoken.

"He works at The Red Lion... and goes to our school. You not seen him?"

"Not sure. Looks a bit of a pitbull."

"Nah, he's fine," I replied with a chuckle and tone of certainty, even though... who was I kidding, I didn't really know him. Paul was my age, and we were both small skinny plebs in the Year 11's eyes, I imagined. Maybe that was not true. I dunno.

~

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~

At the end of the night... or ten o'clock, when the youth club shut, we all piled out, and kids from 13 to 17 started going off in all different directions. Parents and friends picked some up. Some just walked down the street. Me? Well, I lived around the corner, literally on the next road, so Paul and I started walking together off the premises. Paul lived a little further than me but had to walk past my house before using an ally that cut into another road. He lived a few roads over from there. As we began to walk out, Joe ran up behind us.

"Going home?" He asked. We both turned around, not knowing who he was talking to.

"Going fishing tomorrow with my dad," said Paul. He always went fishing early on Saturdays in the summer months when the tide was in.

"Wanna come back to mine?" I asked. Yeah I did, I fucking asked him!

It's slightly forward, right, but I felt I knew him well enough now. But, of course, in reality, I didn't. Not sure if he even knew my name. It's Craig, by the way. But anyway, yeah, I invited him back to mine, and my excuse was that my parents knew Mack, so it just seemed appropriate to do so.

"Wanna get some late-night snacks?"

"Are you staying?" I asked, just fucking going for it. The whole hog... who cares, what if it's no, don't care, I've said it, played the bet, all in!

"If you have room?"

Now can I do things to you while you moan? My mind raced, Raaawwerrr. Fuck DAMN I'm good at this! Calm down! Now what? I looked at him and baulked - he'd said he wanted to stay. I was not prepared for the answer to a question I was not sure why I asked.

"I have a sunbed in the shed."

Good answer!

"Console?"

"I have a PlayStation, yeah."

Great, I'm useful to him!

"Cool."

I remember the three of us standing there in silence for what felt like ages, not saying anything until Paul spoke.

"I'll get going then if you're going to the shop. I'll catch you at school Monday, Craig."

"Yeah, sure. Sure thing," I said, putting my hand up as a quick flick goodbye.

Joe put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me in the other direction towards a local convenience store. It was a SPAR back then. I remember that.

"I'm thinking Maryland cookies, party mix, big bar of Cadburys and some McCoys?"

"Sounds fine," I replied as we headed towards the store.

Joe grabbed a basket by the entrance and strolled down the first aisle. He appeared to know everyone in the shop, whether staff or customers. I watched in amazement as he flicked a hand to one person, nodded to another and bumped fists with a guy stacking pasta shapes onto a shelf.

He confidently threw item after item into the basket and then went to the till. I had no say in his purchase choices, but I didn't care. I really didn't care what I was sharing.

I had Joe sleeping in MY room tonight!

~

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~

We walked side by side back to my place, him holding a wafer-thin white plastic bag that rustled in the breeze. As we got to my house, I stopped.

"Mum and dad will still be at the pub till gone midnight, but I'll ask them if you can stay when they get back. It should be fine anyway."

Joe just nodded, and I walked up to my front door, placing the key in the lock, stepping in. Joe followed, looking all around I noticed.

Inside I took my shoes off and headed straight down the length of the house to the backyard. I pulled on the handle letting myself out. The floodlight came on, which always blinded me, and I walked over the grass towards the shed, shielding my eyes.

"Nice yard," Joe said, stepping out.

I looked back at him, as he and everything else was lit up in a yellow hue. "Back in a sec, just getting the sunbed."

"No sweat. You got a coke or something? I'm thirsty."

I ignored his request, thinking I would answer him once I had gotten the bed out. But, instead, as I tried to pull at it, the lawnmower fell off its hook and there was a load of noise as stuff just seemed to fall and crash on top of me.

"For fuck sake," I growled, frustrated. "Got it," I said in the end.

I carried the cheap black bed back towards the door, and Joe took it from me as soon as I reached him. I remember thinking that was a nice gesture... and kinda unlike his personality to do so.

"Wanna lead me up?" he asked. Something about the way he said that made butterflies develop in my stomach. I moved past him and headed for the stairs. He followed, and we arrived in my room.

"Tidy," he mumbled. "Where shall I put this?"

"Anywhere you want," I replied, seeing there were plenty of angles it could go. He placed it along the wall, far away from my bed. I was upset by that for some reason. But he realised it was too far from the TV and moved it closer to where I would sleep.

"Just in case we watch a film," he said, eyeing my DVD player.

"I'll go get the bag of crap we bought. Wanna set up a game?" I asked, pointing to my collection of Playstation titles. I was confident he would find something; I literally had over 40 games on my shelf.

Downstairs I remember taking a few deep breaths. A bit dramatic, I know, but I was seriously wondering how I had managed to get this fit stud I liked on my radar, let alone my bedroom. But my parents knew Mack, so maybe that was the connection.

Back upstairs, I walked in to find Joe on my bed with his sneakers off, which he'd just toed off and let fall to the floor. I picked them up and placed them neatly with my own collection by the wardrobe.

"I was really sure I wasn't going to find a football game, but you surprised me."

"Oh, that's Liam's, my Brother. Unfortunately, his power cord melted, so he's been playing on my console. Well, at first, he just stole the power cable because he's a shit. But now, if you look, I have taped it to the Playstation."

"Your brother has good taste. Wanna play twos?"

"I uh, I really don't know how to play real football or pretend. But, I'll watch you."

Joe bit his bottom lip and creased his forehead. "I came around your house for you to watch me play your console?"

"Okay, okay, I'll give it a go, but I bet I'll be bored in minutes."

Joe laughed and started to flick through the various settings to set up a split-screen game.

~

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~

I yawned. It was gone one a.m. Joe and I were playing some racing game and doing timed events, but I was barely keeping my eyes open. Mum and dad had come home earlier. I'd left Joe to it while I attempted to explain why another boy who none of us knew was staying the night.

"It's Mack's son, you know Mack," I'd said as my first and only reasoning. They were both cool with that, albeit a slightly drunk cool, but I got the usual lecture about too much noise and mess, and then they shut up.

I'd heard them go to bed soon after I had spoken to them. Their bedroom was down the hall, with my brother's in between. Liam, who was 18, was never in before three a.m. on a Friday night, so the house was pretty quiet for now.

"I might call it a night," I said, falling back onto my elbows. My lower back was killing, having sat in one place for so long.

"Pffft, no stamina! I'm still wide awake," Joe said, pausing his game. "You'll want me to fuck off your bed."

I smiled awkwardly. "Uh, well, if you don't mind."

Joe jumped up and re-placed himself on the now made-up sunbed, sinking into the middle. He almost fell back and hit his head on the wall, but I jumped forward and grabbed his hand.

"Close," he announced, sniggering quietly.

"Yeah," I whispered, smiling at him.

With a few shy looks, I began to get undressed while his eyes were fixed on the TV screen. He continued to race whatever rally car he was in, and I was now down to my boxers. I stood there for a few seconds until I quickly jumped over his controller lead and headed for the bathroom.

I had been cleaning my teeth and gone for a piss which must have only been four to five minutes, but when I got back, he was on the sunbed under the blanket I'd given him earlier. I looked down seeing his pair of 501's and t-shirt on the floor, along with a pair of socks.

"Though I'd call it a night too," he said, following me with his eyes, until I got under my covers, pulling them up to my neck.

"D'you mind flicking that light off?" I asked. Joe was able enough to lift himself up and slide his hand up the wall until it reached the switch. My room was sunk into a much lower light level, with my only desk lamp letting off a soft orange hue.

The silence began to eat into me as I could see Joe lying on his back, eyes open and bare-chested.

"You okay? I asked in a whisper.

"Yeah, just thinking about life."

"Good or bad," I asked, turning fully onto my side and facing him.

"My parents are always arguing; it's not nice living there. Plus, I share a room with my brother, and he's always awake at stupid hours, and now I'm finding that I'm like that too. I wish I could sleep like normal people."

I rested my head on my forearm and sighed. "Sounds a bit shit," I said, pursing my lips.

"Yeah," he whispered in the cutest way.

Even now, at this late hour, I was fixated on him. I kept staring at his chest, which was smooth and blemish-free. A very subtle bronze tan he'd developed was being enhanced in the orange light, and I almost came when he slung an arm behind his head, exposing his armpit. The tension in his upper body revealed a mature pit filled with wispy blond hair.

I would have sworn right then that he was doing it on purpose, and as I cast my eyes over the entirety of his blanket I could see small movements around his mid section. It wasn't a certainty but I guessed two things. He was either scratching down there... albeit it slowly. Or something else a bit more intersting was happening. Either way there felt like a tension in the room that I was absolutely sure he could feel too. So, thinking back to how brave I was to ask him to come over, I swallowed hard and then said it.

"D'you erm, do you wanna well, jack off maybe?

I waited for his reaction.

Copyright © 2022 James Matthews; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
You are not currently following this author. Be sure to follow to keep up to date with new stories they post.

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Chapter Comments

22 minutes ago, weinerdog said:

Can't wait to see where this goes.

I briefly thought is this Joey from The Saturday Boy?

Sent the bloody pre-edited one out didn't I? I'm not having much luck tonight. I've already had to contact Cia as I published it in "World Building" instead of General Fiction. Then I have just let you read a really shit copy of this! I'm so sorry if there were any irritating errors, Weiner.

 

Joey from the Saturday Boy was much more....hmmm, reserved?

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Just now, James Matthews said:

Joey from the Saturday Boy was much more....hmmm, reserved?

Now I miss writing him! LOL

 

"Sean, guess who it is! Guess?"

"Who?

"It's only Jack bloody Stanton!"

 

I think that's how it went 🤭

Edited by James Matthews
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3 hours ago, drsawzall said:

An interesting beginning, looks like someone has a stiffie that needs serious scratching...

Frisco 21-in Sisal Cat Scratching Post with Toy, Gray - Chewy.com

Oh, LOL! hmm, yeah!

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And once again, you have both captured my attention and whetted my appetite for more of your delicious writing!

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On 7/24/2022 at 11:30 PM, Ford48 said:

Okay, you've got my attention James Matthews! This is the second story of yours that I'm following. You have such a sweet, descriptive way of telling a story and I'm loving it. Your characters are real, with foibles, and believable. 

I find that I'm a stickler for spelling and grammar. Either you or your editor are doing a great job.

Thank you for your contributions to our reading pleasure.

Awww, thanks Ford! That's lovely of you to say :) 🥰

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On 7/24/2022 at 11:38 PM, pvtguy said:

And once again, you have both captured my attention and whetted my appetite for more of your delicious writing!

Thanks Pvtguy :) You're too kind.

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