A gay adult story: A “Unique” Friend by Night_Walker05 ,
some names were changed for the privacy of others.
A “Unique” FriendIt was the fourth grade at Presentation B.V.M. School and I’ve made a new close best friend, Trevor. I couldn’t say we were exactly alike because we most definitely weren’t. We were, however, the same height for the whole year. Although, he was much bigger than me, not fat, not obese, not skinny, but “just right.” I remember sometimes I would tease him about his somewhat chubby belly when he took off his shirt in front of me, even though he wasn’t big at all (I guess because of my small size, an average weight boy seemed “huge” compared to myself). We were very close, even at the beginning of the school year. It didn’t take long before I frequently visited his home and became openly attached to him.
Trevor didn’t play any sports. As a matter of fact, he wasn’t very athletic, unlike me. There were times when I had to beg Trevor to go play outside when we were couped up inside playing video games or watching TV. He never really enjoyed any physical activities. One time, he gathered five other neighborhood boys outside to play “capture the flag.” That was the first time I heard the words queer and faggot. These words were mostly aimed towards Trevor for reasons unknown to me still. The other neighborhood boys were very fit and muscular-looking. A blonde one kept bragging about having a four pack abs. Another kept showing everyone his biceps during play. This strangely aroused me in ways I couldn’t explain. Trevor and I would grow with intense envy and jealousy against those boys. What did Trevor have to show? A full, jellylike gut and round arms? And what possibly did I have to show? Skin and bones? Every one of those neighborhood boys bragged and showed off something on their bodies that made them different from Trevor and I. One even threw his shirt off while moaning vigorously. I stared and watched. My eyes were glued tight onto him while desire sledgehammered me. They scanned every part of his body as he danced around the street, trying to tag the flag barer. Well, he was right, he did have a four pack. It was purely beautiful at the time.
When he shouted with victory in his tone, my eyes rolled over to take a glance at Trevor. His brown eyes were also glaring at the shirtless blonde boy, with some kind of unidentifiable emotion in them. I think we both felt something arousing towards him at that time, but couldn’t fathom emotions, nor words to our lips. He then charged over to me and raised his hand high above his head. The blonde boy was rushing over to give me a high five for doing something bravely in the game. When our hands met, his chest was inches from my face. I could almost feel his sweat splash onto me. My heart skipped a beat as my stomach filled with a different species of butterflies. As he left to get into his position, I could still smell his stench. It was something that didn’t bother me, instead, stimulated me. Trevor’s wide brown eyes met with mine as we continued to stare at each other. It felt like our emotions and inner feelings combined into one entity, something we both shared.
Trevor and I both knew we didn’t truly fit in with those other, “manly” boys. All we had to do was glance at each other and we knew what we were thinking. I wanted to leave and so did Trevor. We could feel each others urge to get away from it all.
“Vinnie and I have to go now,” mumbled Trevor, his voice shaking, “It’s time for dinner.” There was still a full hour left before Trevor’s mom would call us in for dinner. The other boys barely paid any attention to Trevor’s announcement. A few of them, including the shirtless blonde boy, turned to quickly say “bye” to us while we departed. I nervously returned the farewell after I heard the blonde boy’s voice. Trevor didn’t look back once, instead, he kept his head lowered as he watched his feet move across the black street. I, however, had to look back. I just had to take another long, hard look at him. Time itself, slowed down for me at that moment as I observed his entire body, one last time. My emotions were suddenly running haywire. Unexplainable things occurred just then. I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn’t know what exactly to say. My legs wanted to go back to other boys, but they were locked in a set motion. My heart was confused with this weaken feeling inside it. What was it I felt just then?
Later on, that day, along with those boys, had just become fantasies in my dreams. Trevor and I rarely spoke of that day, as it was quietly tabooed. Whenever one of us did mention that day, our voices grew with envy, as if we emotionally wanted more of it. We would sometimes try to find ways of making us more “manly,” to showoff those other boys, so we too could be like them. For a while, when Trevor’s dad left for work in the evenings, we would sneak downstairs in the basement and use his father’s weights. After ten minutes, we would be exhausted while we flexed our muscles for each other. Trevor would thoroughly feel my “results” from the ten minute workout. He would start by slightly squeezing my biceps. My bones could feel pressure from the force of his fingers. After my biceps, his hands would gently rub my bare chest, skating his fingers against the skin. Then, it was my turn. Trevor would sound like a little child as he excitedly waited for me to test his results. His round chest would pump outwards towards me and his big, round arms complimented his body’s size. To me, he looked very intimidating when he flexed like that. I stood there, shirtless, observing Trevor flex. It was now time for me to test his ten minute workout. My hand sunk into his biceps as they barely fit around them. Underneath was cold, hard muscle. I never understood why Trevor wasn’t an athlete, he was extremely strong. Then my hands made their way down to his plump chest. They continually pressed up against it. Sometimes, a finger or two would get lost inside his skin. Trevor was strong, very strong, much stronger than me. Aside from his plump figure, he could probably beat me up with no effort. That’s probably why Trevor constantly reminded me he lifted heavier weights than me whenever we worked out. It made me feel even smaller compared to Trevor, but deep down, we both knew we were getting manlier.
Trevor was eventually becoming so desperate, we even tried belching contests with each other. Those never really lasted more than a few minutes because we’d usually suck really bad or we’d make ourselves nauseous. The last time Trevor dared attempt another was when he openly belched at dinner to behave manly. His mom immediately grounded him and we never did those again.
Other times before our workouts, we would wrestle in his bedroom. We held giant, puffy pillows at our chests as we charged at each other like freight trains. Trevor usually knocked me down first, laying on top of me, thus making it impossible for me to move. Like I said, he was much stronger than I was and he weighed a lot more too. Honestly, I don’t know why I continued to play the wrestling games when I knew I would lose every time. I guess I subconsciously knew it made Trevor feel powerful and manly to beat me down. Strangely enough, I kind of enjoyed him knocking me all around. Trevor would always taunt me, telling me how I was going to lose as he armed his pillow. It was something we both accepted.
Majority of the fourth grade, we both spent most weekends and evenings after school becoming manly. Whatever we could think of to make us stronger, tougher, manlier, we attempted it. Some days, we would run up to his room after school and slam the door shut behind us. Then, we would instantly throw off our shirts to showoff our “manly” selves to one another. It would put a huge grin on both our faces for reasons unknown. We just felt really comfortable with this kind of confidence. Together at school, we had no self confidence and low self-esteem. I was the small, weak boy, and Trevor was the fat, short boy. So, I guess accepting each other’s bodies around each other felt safe and stimulating. In his room, we would discuss about the school day. Who did what, who said what, who was the best in gym class, who sucked in gym class; anything we could think of. It made us feel fulfilling when we insulted handsome boys, skilled athletes, girls or other peers behind their backs in our little sanctuary. After our critique of the school day, we would toss our shirts back on, wait for Trevor’s dad to leave, then dash to the basement to workout.