I grew up in a new addition on the edge of a small Midwestern town in the eighties. There were a couple other kids in the new subdivision but none of them were my age. Not close enough to be good friends, anyway. So I was pretty lonely. The bike ride into town was too dangerous, as the road was narrow, curvy, hilly and didn't have a siding or shoulder to speak of, so I grew up mostly alone at home. I had friends at school, and we'd get our folks to drive us to each others' houses on weekends and for several days on school breaks and vacations.
By the time I was thirteen, it was becoming pretty clear I was gay. The gym showers in seventh grade were all the proof I needed. I had sexy dreams about guys and sex, but not about girls. Back then it was not cool to be gay at all, so I hid it. I was positive there were no other gay guys at school. Our school and the town were pretty small.
In seventh and eighth grades, I rode further away from home to find things to do. Brent lived the closest, so he and I rode around on our bikes quite a lot. Roger lived sort of next closest, but still too far to ride easily, but he lived closer to Brent, so sometimes I was the odd one out and Roger and Brent did stuff together.
It was over the summer before high school that I was out riding on my own one day, and I found this old junkyard. Sort of a junkyard. It was deep in the woods, with some old buildings that were mostly fallen down and rotted away, and was mostly semi-trucks, box trailers and flatbeds, and old construction equipment. The old road from it was only about a mile or so long from the old junkyard to the highway and was overgrown with weeds and even trees. The place must have been abandoned decades ago.
It was kind of cool, so I started spending time there when Brent was hanging out with Roger. I wanted to tell them about the place, but I also liked that only I knew about it.
After a couple of weeks, I discovered that someone else knew about it. I noticed things moved or changed around. One time I noticed an old couch inside one of the old trailers was moved closer to the doors. Other things were moved around too.
So one weekend, when I knew Brent was staying over at Roger's, I told my folks I was staying over at Roger's with Brent for the weekend. I took food and drinks, a lantern, and planned on staying overnight and seeing if I could catch this other person there. I also took the .22 rifle I'd gotten for my 12th birthday. Just in case it was a hobo or someone dangerous.
I spent the day building up a kind of fort between two old truck trailers that didn't have wheels or suspensions and were right on the ground. At each end were piles of truck tires, so once you climbed over them you were hidden. I ran around playing like I was a soldier sometimes, and played other games with myself - you know.
As it got dark, I decided to stay in the big trailer with the stacks of tires. The doors could be closed so it was sort of safe. There was also an old beanbag made from denim, so it would be kind of comfortable.
It was quiet and I didn't hear a sound all night.
The next day, I was running around when I heard what sounded like one of the old trailer doors being opened. I got super nervous and scared, and sneaked my way over to where the sound came from. I heard some other sounds too. When I finally saw someone moving around, it turned out to be Denver, a kid from school. He was a year older than me, already going to high school. I sort of knew him, but not much. He was one of the regular guys, kind of a loner, not all that popular, and not one of the smartest. He was lean and trim, had a few muscles, and was always a bit tanned.
Last year I'd gotten to see him in the gym showers. Not bad at all. He had sandy-blond hair and brown eyes, and plenty of pubes above a long dick with a rounded helmet. And a really pink sack with decent sized nuts. He was pretty hot.
I knew he wasn't a jerk or anything, so I dared myself to give him a scare. I waited until he was pushing an old work cart toward a trailer and then shouted, "What are you doing here?" in my best old man voice. "Get outta my junkyard!"
He jumped like crazy! It was hilarious! But he didn't run or anything. He looked at where I was hidden behind an old bulldozer and said, "Who the fuck are you?"
I laughed and walked out where he could see me and said, "It's Paul."
"I know you! You were in my gym class last year in junior high."
"Yeah. I guess I'll see ya this year in high school, too."
"You gonna be a freshman, I guess, huh?"
"Yeah."
