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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. 
 

 As They Say is available for purchase in eBook and Paperback, if you'd like to support my venture as an author.

Links for Amazon Here - https://www.dk-daniels.com/as-they-say

My website - www.dk-daniels.com 

 

As They Say - (Revised) - 45. Entry 59

30th June 1991:

I spent the majority of the day thinking of what I could buy Ross for his birthday. What would he want me to buy? Something expensive? Perhaps Ross would be more traditional. You know, where you buy something that has a lot of sentimental value, or you make something with your bare hands. Anyhow, I should think about what I need to get him because his birthday is not that long away. It's like a week or something.

On top of that, I should start planning: talk to the guys, tell them that his birthday is coming up, and that I want to organise an event.

While the entire group was together today, we ate out at the pizza joint. By pizza joint, I mean Milanos. It’s a chipper, but it sells pizzas on the side. When I had finished my pizza, I went to the bathroom to wash my hands and go to the toilet. When I came out of the cubicle and started washing my hands, I didn't expect Thomas to burst into the bathroom. I felt trapped; it is like he's pursuing a lost puppy. I'm not sure if this classifies him as a stalker yet, but I'm not too fond of it. Maybe I should tell him to back off, but he just set off washing his hands, so I guess he had an excuse. Of all the people that come into the bathroom, why Thomas?

As Thomas cleaned his hands at the sink bank, I was forced to dry mine with toilet paper because the hand dryer in the restroom wasn't working.

While Thomas was washing his hands, he got chatting with me, and he started saying, "Hey, you know, thanks for going to see The Naked Gun with me. It was fun; I enjoyed it, and I hope you did too... Eh... I was wondering if you would like to meet up again and do something else. They're doing a vintage car display in Tralee if you want to come with me. My mammy and dad are going out there to see the show. I'd like it if you came along to keep me company. It's boring on my own."

I was considering it, but you know cars are not my thing. On top of that, I'll be stuck for an entire afternoon with Thomas. I was on the verge of saying no. I'm disappointed that I didn't, but then I figured that I was taking too long to respond. Thomas more or less begged.

He said, "They have a funfair there every year too."

I guess that was enough to convince me. Who doesn't love a funfair? The worst part is Thomas sprung it on me at the last moment. Now tomorrow, I'm going to see this car thing with him and his family.

I was with Ross today at the castle as well. I have no idea why the castle has become such an iconic figure in our lives. It just feels like home every time we need someplace to go. The events of what had happened there made me feel uneasy for a short while. I could tell that something was on Ross's mind. He wasn't speaking all that much about it, and I was too afraid to say anything. Only after a prolonged, unbearable silence did I finally break down the barrier.

I said, "Em… About the other day, I'm sorry."

I dropped my head to my knees in part embarrassment more than anything else. I kept waiting for him to, you know, make a mockery out of me, but Ross didn't. He just sighed, then glanced at me.

Ross said, "It's okay."

And he left it at that for a few more minutes of painful stillness—only to be broken by a speedboat out on the water. As a matter of fact, it's the first time I've ever seen a boat on the lake. It's not every day you see a fancy looking vessel like that. And of all places, why our lake? It's small compared to the much more significant lakes you could put it in.

After the boat had gone, and the hum trickled to a faint echo as it sang off into the surrounding trees, I asked Ross, "Can I ask you a question? Promise you won't get mad or all weird about it."

Ross took his eyes from the lake, glancing at me before returning his attention to the water.

"Okay," he said.

Ross appeared to be a bit nervous or agitated. I wasn't exactly confident with his answer, so I asked the second time, "You promise you won't leave?"

Ross gave me a side glimpse, and just said, "I promise."

Those single two words were music to my ears. It gave me the impression that everything would be okay no matter what I said. That Ross wouldn't just give up on me after contributing a vulnerable part of myself to him.

I took a deep breath and braced myself for the worst.

I asked, "The thing we did the other day… Did you like that?"

My heart had exploded in my chest; I could feel it. Funnily enough, I was still living, but everything else after I had said those exact words stopped existing for me. My mouth grew increasingly dry; my throat swelled. It became so tight that it made even the simplest task of swallowing saliva difficult. My palms got clammy, followed by sweaty. A ringing in my ears began to protrude outwards, and my heart practically bashed against my rib cage. All I could focus on was trying to get my breath under control because it was laborious; I'll tell you that much.

It took time for Ross to answer me. He was away in a different world. Ross stared down at the grass between his legs and nodded affirmatively. The way that he did it suggested that it wasn't one of his proudest acknowledgements. I think it was more from insecurity than anything else because the general relaxed vibe in the air turned to a stifling stale humidity of anxiety. Even the plausible notion of ‘what if’ took hold of my rational thought: what if I kept going? What if...? Then I was alerted to the growing arousal in my crotch region.

It didn't take all that much to excite me. I got hard in an instant. Since I was already sitting up, I placed my hands on my kneecaps and used my elbows to clasp my knees together. I don't know if I was hiding it, but I felt insecure at the moment. That's all we said; the two of us grew uncomfortable. Ross didn't dare say anything else other than what I had asked him. Shy oppression took over any other questions that I had.

So, I sat there all cringe-worthy and tried to wrap my head around what could've possibly happened if I had kept going—the realisation of it being a complete boner killer.

At the time, I was ever so grateful for the erection to diminish because not long after that, we got up and made our way home.

Anyway, I'm going to try and get an early night's sleep tonight. I'm up quite early tomorrow. Thomas said he'd pick me up at my house, that he'd get his dad to drive by about 8:30 AM.

So, I best get some sleep,

Adam

Copyright © 2023 D.K. Daniels; All Rights Reserved.
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 As They Say is available for purchase in eBook and Paperback, if you'd like to support my venture as an author.
Links for Amazon Here - https://www.dk-daniels.com/as-they-say
My website - www.dk-daniels.com 
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. 
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