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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. 

Stockroom Secrets - 6. Chapter 6

When Sunday morning rolled around it basically proved to be a repeat of the day before. Once again, I had been woken by the sound of our neighbours and their lawn mowers. Somewhere a dog was barking, no doubt annoyed at having been woken.

After I dragged myself out of bed at around nine thirty, pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and wandered out into the kitchen, I discovered that I was alone in the house. I could see that it was a grey kind of day outside, which matched how I was feeling, but I did have to admit that compared to how I had felt yesterday morning it was an improvement, so that had to be a positive, right?

My throat was still ticklish, and my arse was still sore, but things could’ve been worse.

After some coffee I figured I didn't have much else I needed to do, other than to perhaps join the neighbourhood lawn mower brigade, so I returned to my room and went in search of my phone, wondering as I did so whether I would find it in pieces or not. Last night I might not have cared much about what happened to it, but in the cold light of day I was just a bit worried. The last thing I needed now was to have to fork out for a new one, then go through the hassle of setting it up.

Thankfully it was easy to find and was still in one piece, having landed on top of a row of books, and when I switched it on the screen dutifully came to life. That was one crisis averted at least.

Moments later it beeped, as a message came through, then it beeped again . . . and again . . . and again. The first message was from mum, letting me know that she and Olly were at my sister's. The next two were from Mike, which I ignored. The last one was from a number I didn't know. Curious about who that might be from I clicked on the message.

Oh, fuck! As soon as I read it a cold shiver went down my spine.

<Saw you with those two guys Friday night. Hope you're being careful!>

It was as if I had just been sucker-punched. Someone saw me with them! Someone knew why I was with them!

Somebody knew about me!

I collapsed onto my bed, rolling over onto my side and finding myself shaking and gasping for air as I continued to stare at the message on the screen. My heart was racing. Never in my entire life had I felt like this. I was sure that my life was as good as over.

Tears came to my eyes, blurring my vision. I let the phone drop to the floor and drew my legs up, hugging them to me, then I just let it all out, sobbing uncontrollably, wailing like a six-year- old who had just stubbed his toe. God I was such a wuss!

And that was how my mother and Olly found me, about an hour later. At least I had stopped blubbering by then.

In my groggy state I had heard the thump of feet as Olly came running up the hallway and opened my eyes just as he appeared at the door to my room, stopping dead and looking in at me, his face etched with concern. Then came the footsteps of my mother, stopping right behind him. I sat up and looked at them, then rubbed my eyes.

'Is something wrong with Gray, mum?' my brother asked.

'How about you go outside and play for a while,' she suggested. 'I think I need to talk to Gray.'

He hesitated, but mum gave him a gentle push and after one last look in my direction he left. My mother watched him leave, then turned and walked away, returning a few moments later carrying something that was small and fluorescent green. I knew immediately what they were.

I watched as she placed them in my drawer, then came and sat down beside me.

'I think they had blood on them,' she said after a few moments, while sitting there with a concerned look on her face. It was then she looked down at my side and noticed the scratches. I'd forgotten to pull on a t-shirt when I got out of bed this morning.

I looked at her, but said nothing, despite my brain feeling as if it were being whipped up by a tornado.

'Did something happen on Friday night?' she asked.

How the hell could I answer that?

'Honey, it's okay. It's all a part of growing up and figuring out exactly who we are. I can take a wild guess as to what might have happened, and if I'm right, and if you wanted it to happen, then I want you to know that I have no problem with that. But if it was something that shouldn't have happened, or if someone did something they shouldn't have, then maybe it needs to be taken further. I can take you to the doctor's office if you think you need to see someone.'

I think I blinked a couple of times, but that was about it.

'Do you want to talk about it?'

'I c-c-can't,' I answered.

She nodded, then for what seemed like a very long time she studied me, without saying anything further. Eventually she got to her feet, and as she stood there beside me she ran her fingers through my hair, just like she used to do when I was little.

'Okay then, honey. Whenever you're ready is fine. Just remember that no matter what it is that is upsetting you, I'm here for you.'

I looked up at her and opened my mouth, as if to say something, but nothing came. In the end the best I could manage was to nod, then I watched as she walked to the door and stopped, before looking back at me.

'Please . . . just don't tell dad,' I pleaded.

'Not a chance,' she quietly replied.

When she was gone, I got up to close the door, but then I heard mum and Olly talking.

'Mum, is Gray sick or something?' I heard him ask.

'Yes, mate. He's feeling a bit unwell after his big night out the other night. He'll be fine.'

Maybe? But when? I wondered.

After closing the door quietly I then lay back down on my bed, just staring at the ceiling with my hands behind my head. Fuck, what a couple of days this had been. If this is all a part of growing up and figuring out who we are, like mum said to me, then maybe I should just go back to being a kid again? Perhaps that could be an option.

A knock on my door dragged me from my slumber around lunch time and I woke to see Olly peering into my room.

'Are you awake, Gray?'

'Yeah, mate. What's up?'

'Mum is making some sandwiches and wants to know if you want one.'

'That would be good. Tell her, yes please,' I replied.

'He said, yes please,' Olly called out down the hallway, before then coming into the room and sitting on the edge of my bed, looking down at me with concern on his face.

After looking at me for a few moments he noticed the scratches on my side, then he reached out and carefully touched them.

'Does that hurt?'

'No, mate.'

'What did you do?'

'They're just scratches. Think I did it climbing over a fence.'

That was a lie, but what else could I do? Tell him the truth? Nah! Not an option.

'Clumsy!'

'Yep, that's me.'

'So, are you sick?' he enquired.

'Maybe just a little. I'll be okay though. And how are you? What have you been up to?'

He made to lie down beside me so I shuffled across a little to give him some room.

'We went to see Meaghan. She and Robbie are painting one of their rooms. I think she might be going to have a baby.'

'No shit! Really?'

'Well, mum was pretty excited about something,' he replied, as he reached up and brushed my fringe away from my eyes.

In turn I reached across and messed up his hair. He tried to duck his head away and ended up with his head lying on my chest.

'Hey, you're getting hairs on your chest!' he exclaimed as he sat up and ran his fingers over the few hairs that had sprouted in the middle of my chest. 'You're going to be all hairy, just like dad.'

'No, he's not going to be anything at all like dad,' a voice suddenly said from the doorway. It was mum. 'Come on boys, your lunch is ready.'

Olly sprung to his feet, then held is hand out for me, helping drag me to my feet also. When we were standing he put his arms around my waist and hugged me.

I smiled down at him.

'That's better, ' he said. 'You don't look so sad any more.'

It's amazing the small things that can happen that will lift you up when you are feeling down.

 

+   +   +

 

News of my sister's pregnancy certainly took the pressure off me over the next few days and life quickly got back to normal. I wasn't rostered on at work for Monday or Tuesday, so for now I didn't have to face Mike or anyone else for that matter. This gave me some time to think through what had happened and what needed to happen, and while I still wasn't ready to share the details with anyone just yet, or openly admit to anyone that I was actually gay -- such as my family -- I felt that I was coming to terms with it all and needed to move forward with my life.

Over the weekend my teenage libido had taken a rest, but by Monday it had bounced back, and I woke with a desperate need to take care of business. I waited until mum had left with Olly to take him to school, then headed for the bathroom, where the glass door of the shower was quickly splattered with my seed. Afterwards I gently probed my hole to see how it was faring and surprisingly it was feeling as if it were back to normal, allowing me to insert one finger, then another. The feeling was fantastic, and I was quickly hard once more, with the shower door soon copping another battering.

Obviously, I was feeling good again.

When my mother returned a short while later, I was sitting at the kitchen table having a coffee. She made herself a cup and then sat down opposite me. Here we go, I thought.

'You seem more like your old self again,' she said after taking a few sips from her mug.

'Yeah, I think so. I feel better, anyway.'

'That's good, honey. I was worried about you.'

I think I managed a smile.

'Is there anything that you want to talk about?'

'Muuum!' I groaned.

'You will need to talk to someone sooner or later about your . . .'

'About my what?'

'About what you are feeling,' she answered. 'If you don't want to talk to me just yet, that's fine . . . whenever you are ready is fine. Maybe you should talk to Doctor Bruce? He'll be able to help with support, or testing, or . . .'

'Muuum!'

'Or maybe someone who knows about these things can help?'

'About what things?'

'About gay things, Gray. There, I've said it. It's out in the open . . . but I promise you it's just between you and me, okay.'

I looked down at the mug in my hand, feeling my face burning up as I did so. Fuck! Did my mother really just say that?

Tears started welling up in my eyes and when one eventually leaked out and rolled down my cheek she was up off her chair and around to my side of the table in a flash, her arms wrapped around me, hugging me to her breast as if I was a little boy once more.

I hugged her tight and let out a sob, and she said, 'Sshhhh, it's okay, honey. It doesn't matter. I still love you. We all still love you. We've always thought that this day might come.'

Suddenly the world stopped spinning.

'You what?' I said through sobs, as I pulled back briefly and studied her through tear-filled eyes. 'What do you mean?'

'Do you remember when you were young, and Meaghan used to dress you up in her clothes? You liked her dresses and we got her to stop, but you didn't stop, at least not until your father caught you.'

'Oh God. You remember that?' I gave a little chuckle.

'Of course. But you grew out of that and became a regular boy, much to your father's delight. Anyhow, I always suspected that you might end up like Uncle Bryan . . .'

'Wait . . . Uncle Bryan is gay?'

'You didn't know that?'

'Fuck . . . oh, sorry . . . I mean, wow! No I didn't know that. Why didn't anyone ever say?'

'I'll blame your father for that one.'

 

To be continued . . .

Copyright © 2024 Mark Ponyboy Peters; All Rights Reserved.
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Thank you for taking the time to read this story. All reactions and comments are gratefully received!!!
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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Chapter Comments

Grayson's Mum seems to be OK that he is gay. But, this is telling:

Quote

'Please . . . just don't tell dad,' I pleaded.
'Not a chance,' she quietly replied.

As is this:

Quote

'Wait . . . Uncle Bryan is gay?'
'You didn't know that?'
'Fuck . . . oh, sorry . . . I mean, wow! No I didn't know that. Why didn't anyone ever say?'
'I'll blame your father for that one.'

So, Mum knows or suspects that Grayson is gay and we have a very possible homophobic dad. Then there is Mike at work. There is also the unknown person who saw Grayson with Mike and the snake.

This is a lot of stuff to think about for a closeted gay boy!

  • Love 5
1 hour ago, Al Norris said:

Grayson's Mum seems to be OK that he is gay. But, this is telling:

As is this:

So, Mum knows or suspects that Grayson is gay and we have a very possible homophobic dad. Then there is Mike at work. There is also the unknown person who saw Grayson with Mike and the snake.

This is a lot of stuff to think about for a closeted gay boy!

Abso-fucking-lutely!

I won't put any spoilers out there, but a lot happens with young Gray, and even if it's tough going, he does good! 🙂

  • Love 3

Grayson needs to get to the doctor A.S.A.P. and get a full panel done, can't do a few things this quickly but still.  

Who does the mystery number belong to?  Who saw him out with Mike and Animal and knew what it meant?

So, Gay uncle and he had no idea?  Obviously, Grayson has no gaydar.  LOL

His mother is a keeper, call is still out on the father, and Olly is great as well.

Can't wait to see what happens next.  

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