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    Andy78
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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. 

Timmy - 1. Chapter 1

A loud noise caused me to wake. I glanced at my mobile, and the time read 02:13. My main concern was that the noise was caused by a burglar or something. I heard the noise again and realised it was Timmy – he sounded like he was having a nightmare; and a really bad one at that. Timmy is the best friend of my younger brother Maxxie, and he was staying over at ours since his parents were away for the week having a second honeymoon. Maxxie managed to sleep through the noises Timmy was making and continued with his gentle snoring – I swear that boy would sleep through World War Three.

I got up, and sleepily walked over to the camp-bed he was sleeping on. I shook him gently and whispered his name. He woke with a start, saw me and then wrapped his arms around me with a strength which belied his size. I could feel his tears running down my neck, but held him until he calmed down.

“Are you OK?”

“I’m sorry Josh. I’m just being a baby. I shouldn’t be crying at my age.” He furiously rubbed his eyes trying to clear the signs of his crying.

I took his hands in mine before he rubbed his face away and said, “Hey Timmy, never apologise for crying. It’s not babyish to cry; I still cry and I’m a year older than you. Were you having a nightmare?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really. I don’t really remember much of it anyway; you know just that sense of fear you get with a nightmare.”

“Yeah, I know. You going to be OK? You want a drink of water or something?”

“That would be nice.” He broke out in that cute child-like grin of his for the first time since he woke.

I got up to get him a glass of water, but as soon as I was more than an arm’s length from him, he jumped out of his bed and clung to my arm in a death grip. I can’t believe just how strong Timmy is for a twelve year old who is barely 5 feet tall and looks like stuffed string.

We sat down in the kitchen, and I set a glass of water in front of him and got a glass of milk for myself. He took a sip before he started talking again.

“You don’t have to stay up with me Josh; I can go back to bed when I’ve finished this.”

“Don’t be silly Timmy. You’re clearly still shook up over that nightmare and I wouldn’t feel right leaving you up alone.”

I’d never really bothered to get to know Timmy before. I mean I knew him because he stays over every other weekend, but I realised I actually knew next to nothing about him. But why was I so worried by that? Why should that bother me? I mean he’s my brother’s friend not mine. Maxxie should be up with Timmy not me. However, since it was me who was up with Timmy I figured I’d make up for wasted time and get to know him better.

“So, Timmy. Tell me a bit about yourself.”

“Why?” he asked suspiciously.

“I just realised that I know next to nothing about you. I’ve known you for nearly three years and all I know about you is that you’re my little brother’s best friend.”

Timmy giggled at me referring to Maxxie as my little brother; there’s only ten months separating us and I’m scarcely an inch taller, but I’ve always called him that. “Not much to tell really. I’m in the same class at school as Maxxie, I’m on the school’s football team with Maxxie, and go to dance class on the weekends.”

“Dance class? You mean like ballroom dancing?”

“Nah, ballet,” he said; smiling for the second time.

I thought to myself, ‘That probably explains where his strength comes from’ as my heart went pitty-pat over his smile. I mentally slapped myself good and hard; I know I’m gay, but this is my little brother’s best friend for God’s sake. Maxxie knows I’m gay and is cool with it, but even thinking about his best friend like that just feels wrong for some reason.

I was actually surprised that he didn’t seem embarrassed about admitting that he did ballet; especially to a boy who was older than him and one he didn’t really know very well. However, since I was hoping to take his mind of his nightmare, I thought it best not to tease him about it; even in jest.

“Really! How long have you been doing that?”

“I started when I was six, but it’s been really hard finding a class that would take a boy. I had to go all the way out to Basingstoke initially; which meant an hour and half travelling there and then another hour and a half travelling back. We found a school in Putney early last year though which is only about a ten minute drive from mine so it’s a lot better.”

“Do you get any crap from people for doing ballet?”

“Most people don’t know I do it. Maxxie knows obviously, and a few girls in our year who go to the same class I do. And now you know. Are you going to give me any crap over it?”

I shook my head. “I wouldn’t do that Timmy. Are there any cute girls at ballet?” I asked.

“A few. Some of them look really pretty in their tutus.”

“Any boys?”

“Yeah,” he started. “But none who are cute,” he added before he could stop himself. Timmy blushed as soon as the words left his lips; he clasped his hands to his mouth and started to cry.

I decided to ignore his apparent slip and asked, “What’s wrong Timmy?”

“Please don’t stop me from being friends with Maxxie. I’ll do anything you want, but I can’t lose Maxxie as a friend.”

“Calm down, Timmy. Take a deep breath. Now, why on Earth would I stop you from being friends with Maxxie?”

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” I wasn’t sure if that was a question or a statement but I decided to answer him anyway.

“I heard what you said, Timmy. But I’m still not sure why you’d think I would try to stop you and Maxxie from being friends?”

I don’t why, but Timmy didn’t even bother trying to backtrack. “Because I’m gay,” he muttered. He placed his head on his arms and allowed his tears to flow. “Please don’t tell Maxxie. I can’t bare the idea of losing him.”

I got up from my chair, walked around the kitchen table, and wrapped my arms around him. “It’s alright Timmy,” I said, and kissed the back of head.

He threw his arms around my neck and wailed as he broke down completely. I sat next to him, cradling him, for the nearly quarter an hour it took for him to calm down. I allowed a few silent tears of my own for him to fall as well. I think I was beginning to get an idea as to what Timmy’s nightmare was about, and it was breaking my heart. He can’t talk to his parents about his feelings regarding his sexuality (I know that because his dad is one of those “fire-and-brimstone, Bible-thumping” type of dads), and the one person he should be able to talk to about anything (his best friend) he can’t or won’t because he is so scared of the reaction he’ll get.

“Why do you think you’d lose him if he knew?” I passed Timmy a tissue and he blew his nose.

“We’re really close. We haven’t done anything; I mean Maxxie’s as straight as they come. It’s just we sometimes sleep together and cuddle each other and stuff. There’s nothing sexual about it, but I like the closeness and so does he. If he knew I was gay, he’d think I’d been perving on him or something.”

“You do my brother a great disservice Timmy. I think you’re wrong about the way he’d react.”

“You say that because he’s your brother. You seem to be OK with me being gay for some reason, but I can’t and won’t take the risk with Maxxie. His friendship is far too important to me; it’s the only thing that has kept me going at times.”

“Timmy, I say Maxxie will be fine with you being gay, because he doesn’t have a problem with me being gay.” Quite why I told Timmy that I don’t know; even to this day I still don’t know why I came out to him. I didn’t plan to, at that moment it just felt right to.

“You’re gay?”

“You sound surprised.”

“Well, yeah. You’ve always got Sara hanging off your arm; you two have been together forever.”

“We’re not like that Timmy. It helps to keep up appearances at school. I have no plans to be out at school, and if it looks like Sara’s my girlfriend, then people are going to assume I’m straight. She knows I’m gay, but really enjoys playing the role of my girlfriend.”

“What about outside of school?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you out away from school?”

“I am on-line and stuff, you know like where I can remain anonymous. I’m out at home, mum and dad know; but I haven’t told the rest of the family yet. I don’t really see the point in doing that until I get a boyfriend.”

“So are you looking? For a boyfriend I mean.”

“Yeah I’ve got an ad out in the school paper. You mean you haven’t seen it?” Timmy shook his head and looked at me quizzically. “It says ‘Josh Peters in class 9R, ISO cute boy for fun and loving times, must have own bedroom’.” Timmy laughed; he actually looked the most relaxed since he woke from his nightmare.

“That would be really good to see Josh. Can I put an ad next to yours?”

“Sure. What would it say?”

“Timmy Jones in class 8L, ISO year nine boy for damn good shagging, must have at least 8 inches.”

I had just swallowed a mouthful of water and started laughing and choking at the same time. Timmy clapped me on the back, and I managed to get myself under control.

“Was it something I said, Josh?”

“You know damned well it was.” I couldn’t help but laugh again. How could I have never gotten to know Timmy sooner; why did I have to wait until he had this nightmare? Forget about what my hormones were telling me, he is really easy to talk to and has a great sense of humour very much like my own.

We continued talking, sharing secrets, swapping war stories, flirting a little, playing a little footsie and just enjoying ourselves. During this time we became friends, good friends; but I’m not sure if anything romantic will develop from it. I know I would like something more to come from this, but I’m not going to push it. I’ll just let our friendship develop; it will become obvious if something is meant to happen. I know I’d rather have Timmy as a friend than not have him in my life, now I’d really gotten to know him (I think I can now understand where some of his fear about losing Maxxie comes from).

I heard a noise on the stairs and Maxxie appeared.

“I’m sorry Maxxie, did we wake you? Were we being too loud?”

“No. The alarm clock woke me.”

“What?” It was then that I noticed the sun peaking above the horizon.

“I said ‘the alarm clock woke me’. It’s just gone seven. I noticed you two were already up, so I came looking for you. What time did you two wake up?”

“About quarter past two. Timmy had a nightmare.”

“And you two didn’t bother going back to sleep?”

“Well, we got to talking and I guess time slipped by,” said Timmy.

“I’ll say. What on earth can you two have talked about for five hours? In terms of word count I’ve got a better relationship with my Venus Flytrap than you two have with each other.”

Timmy said, “We had a lot to talk about, and there’s something I need to tell you, something I want to tell you.”

He looked at me, as though silently asking me if he should; I nodded and scootched closer to him just in case Maxxie flipped out. “Maxxie, there’s no really easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it. I’m gay.” Timmy closed his eyes readying himself for the backlash.

Maxxie ran over to his friend and hugged him tightly. “Timmy, it doesn’t matter to me; you’re my best friend. I love you; I always have and I always will. Nothing will ever change that.”

Copyright © 2012 Andy78; 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. 
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