A Beginner's Guide To Falling In Love

Chapter 1

Author Note: This will be my first proper chaptered fic, so feedback is much appreciated! 

When you learn to ride your bike, you start off with training wheels. It's easy at first. Until you get older and you're told you need to remove your training wheels. Suddenly riding a bike seems scary. You had something promising your safety. You didn't need to worry so much about whether or not you'd fall, because if your bike teetered to the wrong side, your training wheels caught you. You can't rely on them forever though. As a part of growing up, you've got to let the training wheels come off, and learn how to continue riding without them. You'll probably fall a few times, but you can't stay on the ground, you've got to get back up and try to continue riding, and each time you learn what not to do, eventually it gets easier. You just know how to ride a bike. You don't have to be so worried about crashing and getting hurt, it's become natural. 

I wish falling in love was the same. 

At least when you ride a bike, you know what's right and what's wrong. All I know that the way he makes me feel, is very wrong, and I should never tell anyone. I shouldn't be thinking about his hands and the way I wish they were wrapped around my-

"Daniel! Come down for dinner!" My mom called, startling me. 

"Yeah, just a second!" I called down to her, slightly angry at her for interrupting my journal entry. 

"Dan! Get your lazy ass down here!" My dad shouted at me.

"Coming!" I shouted. 

I quickly threw my journal in the bottom of one of my desk drawers, slammed it shut, and hurried out my room and down the stairs to the dinner table. Knowing that my dad would barge into my room and start another argument over the printed photos of my favorite YouTuber on the wall above my desk. He thought that my idolization of AmazingPhil was disturbing and gay, and he "wanted nothing to do with his only son being a disgraceful faggot." 

I sat down at the table, my mother spooned some mashed potatoes on her plate and offered the bowl towards me, giving me a warm smile

I took the bowl and spooned a gob of potatoes on my plate next to a lump of something I assumed to be my dad's attempt at making meatloaf, before setting it back down on the table. As I began pouring a generous amount of gravy onto my potatoes and mysterious meat, my mom cleared her throat. 

"So Dan, did you have a good day at school?" she said, probaby hoping I had some story about how I became friends with some kid who wants to come over for dinner or something ridiculous like that. 

"Boring." I grumbled picking up my fork to shove a mouthful of potatoes into my mouth. Where my dad's cooking skills lacked, my mom made up for. I loved my mom's cooking so much, but I wish my dad didn't try to help, maybe then I'd actually like meatloaf. 

She frowned at my simple and grumpy answer. I wondered if she ever had anything she looked for to as much as she seemed to look forward to the day I actually bring a friend home from school. I hated everyone at school, they all listened to the same music, and seemed to be obsessed with the people who chased a ball around, whether it be a football, baseball, volleyball, basketball, or even a golf ball. 

That was all I contributed to the conversation, as usual, and my parents chatted about their coworkers and what had happened at work, my dad going on about how stupid people in his office could be. I sat in silence and poked at the greenbeans my mom insisted I put on my plate, despite the fact that I'm 17 years old now. I was distracted from my beans when my phone buzzed in my pocket and I looked at the lump in pocket in curiousity. My mom's story about her coworker Sarah's bratty children was cut short. My dad glared at me across the table. 

"Daniel, it's dinner time. You know be-" 

He was cut off by my mom shushing him, shooting him a look that scared even my intimidating, burly father. 

"You can be excused Dan, please place your plate in the sink." my mom said, her voice high and sing-songy. 

"Lin he hardly ate his meatloaf! Do you know how long I spent trying to perfe-" my dad tried to argue but my mom wouldn't let him. 

I smiled and stood up, thanking my parents for dinner, scraping the remains of my meal into our pomeranian's dish and setting my plate in the sink. 

I ran up the stairs and shut the door behind me, grabbing my phone out of my pocket, and seeing that it was a notification telling me Phil had uploaded a new video. I grinned and ran over to my desk, quickly opening my laptop and clicking on Phil's new video. I giggled like a stupid teenage girl as Phil went on telling another one of his crazy stories.

After the video ended I was smiling like an idiot, and I hit the "like" button before opening a new tab and going to Twitter, tweeting him that I liked his new video.

I got offline and went and laid in bed, flipping through my various photos of Phil I had saved. Eventually I heard my parents shuffling down to their bedroom, and my mom peeked in, saying goodnight before sotfly shutting the door and wandering down the hall. I waited until I knew both my parents were asleep, and repeated the same thing I do every night, opening up my private album of photos of Phil that made me go crazy.

I stared at them a while, feeling my jeans getting tighter before I had to remove them and begin jacking off to his beautiful body, wishing so badly that it was Phil's hand around my dick instead of my own. I knew that this was wrong though, and that I must never tell anyone that I cum while quietly moaning Phil's name every night before bed.