As They Say - (Revised) - 8. Entry #13

8th May, 1991

Just like I said, I woke up early, showered, and got dressed ahead of time. I waited around for about three hours. Even though I knew I could have been in bed, I was looking forward to seeing Ross again. And I thought it would have taken longer to get ready. I needed to see him. I can't explain it. I was sitting around all that time, waiting for him to knock for me. I had been up since 8:00 AM.

God, what's wrong with me?

I got a little impatient after breakfast, which was around 11:00 AM, so I decided to take action and stop idling for Ross. I decided to actually go knock for him instead. When I left my house, I could smell the rainfall's faint perfume from last night. It had rained all night long. There was a set of dull clouds above, and this horrible grey hue made everything look bland and white. The only thing that injected colour into the scene was the greenery from shrubs and trees. I knew that I would not want to spend the entire day out in this misty, gloomy haze. It was depressing.

Why did the sun have to disappear? I guess I was at a loss about what to do because the weather had turned.

I can't believe that I actually marched up to that door. I mean, the previous day, I was so nervous to even set foot on their land.

Never mind knock.

When I finally scrounged up the courage, I tapped on the door, and Ross's grandmother unlocked the door and welcomed me in. She was so kind; I always loved that about Mrs. O'Sullivan.

When I was younger, I broke one of her windows with a football, and she was totally sound about it. They put the plant hedging along the driveway wall not long after so that it wouldn't happen again. We were still friendly, however. I think it added some privacy between both houses, which I think both households benefited from having.

Anyway, Mrs. O'Sullivan invited me in, and she started immediately gossiping about how the weather was miserable in the middle of summer. It's Ireland. Of course, rain is a big part of our ecosystem. It wasn't that unheard of; however, it would have been nice to have bright and sunny skies. I heard Dublin and Gorey in Wexford had sunny weather. While I'm stuck here in the gloomy midlands of Kerry in a small town called Ballyoran. What surprised me most was that Mrs. O’Sullivan told me Ross was not awake. She babbled on for a bit longer than needed, and finally let me go up the stairs to wake the sleeping prince up.

To be honest, I was so nervous. Getting past the front door is one thing. Going upstairs to wake Ross up is a different thing entirely. I wasn't sure what I was going to say when I finally got to his bedroom. So instead, I kept reciting what his grandmother had told me, “First door on the right, first door on the right.”

By the time I got to the top of the stairs, I was sweating, and my heart was running rampant. Before I knew it, I was standing directly in front of Ross's bedroom door. I wasn't sure if I should knock, enter, or call him or do both or… hmm, yeah. That was a lot of confusion.

In the end, I decided to open the door after I knocked and poke my head in. When I did a little rat-a-tat on the door, I heard a soft mumble, accompanied by a groan as he sat up in bed. Ross looked a little dazed, though his messy bedhead and shirtless torso were so adorable that I could not help but gawk at him in all his beauty. His delicate shoulders were exposed, and he gave a slightly crooked smile when his eyes adjusted and noticed me standing at the door. There was this smell in the room. It wasn't gross. It was like strawberries; it was kinda like a young boy's smell, which had hints of man in it. But not like a newborn baby. I suck at this whole describing thing, huh? Ross's natural body odour is yum. Did I just say his smell is yum?

Okay, Adam, you're getting creepy again; tone it down.

I sat down, and we just talked for a couple of minutes. We both decided that he'd come over to my house, and I'd show him my garage and my dorky railcar model. It just sorta slipped out. When I said it, we were talking about what to do for the day. I told him the weather is misty and not that summery at all. When Ross asked me what I usually did on days like this, I bluntly blurted out about my model car, and when he insisted on wanting to see it, I just relented. In an odd way, after a little of just watching Ross yap on like a young puppy, he became adorkable. Were his true colours actually shining through? If so, it was excruciatingly cute.

When I asked if he would get dressed and come out, he started to get up. But as quick as Ross stood, he quickly grabbed his blanket, pressed it against his body, and slithered back down onto the bed. I was confused.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

I found this next piece of information really hot.

Ross said in an embarrassed tone, "Em… I don't mean to be rude. But can you get out for a minute? I'm not wearing any ugh… you know, underwear."

Ross became sheepish when those words left his mouth. I felt a growing boner taking shape in my shorts. I was like, Oh god, don't let this happen now. Don't let this happen. Thankfully it did not, so I shot up and left the room. A minute later, Ross opened the door and grinned. He didn't mention anything else about what had just transpired. I think it was a mutual feeling of trust and understanding. I didn't want to bring it up either, but God was it hot. I think Ross trusted me enough to not mention anything about it, which was sweet.

Throughout the rest of the day, thoughts of Ross naked under that blanket caught in my mind. I wondered how it might have felt, I mean the sheets against his skin.

I showed him my model. He was eager to know how it worked, so while I was showing him how it worked, I was able to get close to Ross. Being close made my heart thump like crazy. I thought my heart would explode if I wasn't careful. Oh, and the scrumptious strawberry smell coming from him intoxicated me beyond rational thinking. All at the same time, I was getting butterflies. I was getting turned on by the images in my head from earlier. I mean, I was undressing him with my eyes. I know that's wrong, but come on, you'd do the same; he's cute.

Right now, I have a bit problem in my lap. So, I'm going to probably sleep naked like Ross. I wonder if he sleeps naked every night. Okay, I need to stop writing. I need to release some bodily fluids.

Night,

A pervy Adam