Everyone is 18.
*True story--told to me by a friend in high school. Enjoy.*
I was trying to surreptitiously scratch my balls over my sweatpants in Spanish class when I caught him looking at me. The short, dirty blonde guy named Jackson something. He was known as the gay kid. He was the only gay kid at our school and he was a pretty cool guy. He spoke a little feminine, which I found weird, but it was easy to bond with him as we both liked to talk shit about SeΓ±ora Mulligan, the Spanish teacher. She basically spoke Spanish with a midwestern accent. I guess that's what you get when you go to public school in Bozeman, Montana.
I pulled my hand away, a little embarrassed at being noticed pawing at my manhood in public, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him return his gaze forward. Gay dude must like looking at my crotch, I thought to myself. I got a little excited at the idea, but let it float away.
When we were put into groups for an oral assignment, Jackson tapped me on the shoulder and raised his eyebrows. I gave him a thumbs up. He was as good a partner as any.
We faced our desks together and started reading and responding in the little conversational exercises. I noticed his feet kept tapping mine and he was smiling sort of awkwardly. Since I'm really tall at 6'4", and I have some thick muscle from wrestling and water polo, I just thought my sprawling legs were in the way. But, whenever I moved them, I found he was subtly following them and tapping again.
"What're you doing?" I asked him plainly.
"Nothing." He said, but his coy smile remained, and he put his foot back on mine.
The little gay boy has a crush on me, I thought to myself, flattered. This boost to my ego was kind of nice. I pushed his foot away again and continued on with the exercises. The class continued without anything noteworthy, until we stood up from our desks, which were now pushed together.
Just as Jackson knelt down to pick up his backpack from the floor between our desks, I stood up from my seat and whacked him right in the face with an obscene erection in my pants.
"Oh shit, sorry!" I said quickly and sat back down. Even though the bell had rung, I had a problem in my stupid fucking sweatpants. Why the fuck did I wear these? I cried internally.
Jackson seemed dazed from the incident, but after a moment of shock, said "No worries, man. See you later." He left, and I waited fruitlessly for my boner to disappear, until I decided to just tuck it up into my waistband (a sloppy and failure-prone technique in my experience), and hold my backpack in front of my cock for good measure. I headed out and went to my locker. Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised, but Jackson was waiting for me when I got there. I nodded to him and opened my locker. My boner had gone down enough for me to let down my guard a bit.
"Hey," said Jackson, a bit energetically.
"Hey," I responded, waiting for him to tell me what he wanted.
He paused for a second, and blurted out, "Would you wanna hang out after school? I could give you a ride home." His face turned red, like he was embarrassed to ask. I smiled at the guy, knowing he was pretty shy, and that he was stepping out of his boundaries a bit.