Have We Gone Too Far? [Slash]

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

  My first lesson of year eleven is PE, which I normally love, but changing in front of a whole room of guys who you know are staring at you can be pretty uncomfortable, especially seeing as I don’t want anyone to ask about all the scars and bruises I’ve developed over the holidays. Most of guys in here will come to their own conclusions’ and luckily, none of them are likely to work out what’s actually going on. By that I mean, I'm Zacky freaking Mondale, I'm always in fights, but the part that they that don’t know is that they tend to be with my parents.

  “Are you alright, man?” Kyle asked me when he realised I was just staring at my clothes instead of changing into them.

  “They’re all watching me,” I grunted lowly so that no one knew it was getting to me.

  “Embrace it!” Kyle barked as he took off his PE shirt again and started flexing his muscles.

  God, I hate it so much when he does this. It’s so tempting to just melt gazing into his gorgeous blue eyes and hold on to him, not wanting to ever let go. He obviously wouldn’t do that sort of posing around me if he knew the truth; he probably wouldn’t even talk to me if he ever found out about how he could make me feel around him. It’s not like a crush and I don’t love him or anything like that, but he’s the only guy I’ve ever felt close to.

  I'm slowly coming to terms with my sexuality. I'm gay. There I said it, but I’ll never be able to say that out loud. I've never properly crushed on a guy or even been in a relationship with one, but I can tell that I’d prefer to be with them than a girl.

  I’ve never wanted to become more than friends with a girl, I’ve tried but when I look at them I just see them as them, not as something I could ever really want to call mine. I know that sounds a bit strange, but I just couldn’t imagine being with someone female.

   “Stop being so paranoid,” Kyle hissed at me, knocking me out off my thoughts long enough to realise that I still wasn't changed. “What’s wrong with you? You’re never like this.”

  “Nothing’s wrong, I just don’t want a room full of perverted gays watching me change,” I grunted. I'm surely not the only one with this problem.

  As you can tell, I’ll do anything to make sure no one finds out about me being gay, that’s why I sometimes resort to picking on the odd guy who’s comfortable with being how he is to make me feel better. It’s sick and mean, I know, but I don’t feel like I have much choice.

  “Get changed,” he huffed.

  “Not with them watching.”

  “No one’s even looking!” He shouted. And of course after his little outburst, everyone was watching.

  “Thanks, man,” I hissed as I walked out, carrying my PE bag over my shoulder.

  I walked into the boys toilets that were outside of our changing rooms and sat down in one of the cubicles for a moment.

  “Pull it together,” I whispered to myself as I stood up and started to change.

  I kept looking around the small cubicle, making sure no one was peeping over and watching me. I knew I was alone in there but I felt so worked up that I had to check anyway, just to be sure.

  As I removed my clothes I looked at myself. It turned out I didn’t look as bad as I’d expected. The bruises were barely noticeable. I let out a deep sigh of relief and started laughing at myself. You seriously couldn’t see any signs to show how severe the last beating I took actually was. It was amazing; I had no idea bruises could heal so fast.