Our fragile threesome felt like home—until one night, it wasn’t. After a brutal rejection, I found myself on the street with nothing but 20 Euros and a backpack full of books. I thought I’d hit rock bottom. But the real test came when a kind face offered me help, and I had to make a choice: safety, or my secrets.
Hey guys!
Before we start, a quick thing: I’ve been asked in the chat a few times if all of this happened exactly 1-to-1. The short answer: Yes. This is my story. But of course, after all these years, I take some artistic license when it comes to exact phrasing. My memory is good, but not perfect. 😉 The point is to convey the feeling of back then and to show you what made me who I am today.
Okay, so our daily life as a threesome unit was underway. But I don’t want to sugarcoat anything; it wasn’t always just horny harmony. There were more and more fights. And the most common reason was, who would’ve guessed: the cash. The damn dough.
But we’ll get to that topic in a bit. Because first, I have to tell you about a promise that was kept. I can tell you, I really liked the dildos and had a hell of a lot of fun with them. Alex did me a huge favor there.
As a bookworm, I’ve always loved to retreat into my own space. And now, instead of just diving into books, I could also play with myself while Kev was usually at Call of Duty. The division of labor was clear: He produced holes, I plugged mine! 🙂
Tom also came by for a drink from time to time, and each time he brought his little package with him. But I remember one very specific day. The three of us were hanging out at the apartment again, a typical mix of gaming, drinking a few beers, talking, and smoking weed. The weed wasn’t a daily thing, but it happened now and then, and those were always the most chilled-out evenings. And somehow, they also often turned sexual.
On this particular evening, Alex was being generous and let Kev play. The “payment” in return was me performing my services on Alex’s joystick when the doorbell rang.
“Hey Kev, you go open it,” Alex said. “I’ve got something between my legs right now.”
Since I was used to most visitors just staying in the hallway anyway, I just kept going. So there I was, kneeling in doggystyle, ass to the door, head in Alex’s crotch. 🙂
“Well, look at the hot welcome,” a voice suddenly echoed from the door. It was Tom. He came in and gave me a firm slap on the ass as he walked by.
And the weird thing was: It didn’t shock me at all anymore. It’s strange how quickly situations like that could become “normal” for me. I stopped blowing him, and while Tom made himself comfortable on the sofa next to Alex, I just stayed sitting on the floor, naked. There were beers for everyone. We chatted, the four of us, and just completely chilled out.
The mood was totally relaxed. Then Tom opened one of his packages and pulled out a little weed. “How about it, you two, have you smoked before? I don’t have to ask Alex.”
“Sure,” came from Alex, and he quickly rolled a joint that made its rounds. We talked about everything and anything.
A Trip to the Country
At some point, Tom started talking about his farmhouse, which was a bit outside the city. He mentioned he wanted to do some remodeling and renovations.
Then he looked directly at Kev and me. “I don’t know what your cash situation is like,” he said very casually, “but if you feel like it, couldn’t you help me out now and then?” He quickly added: “Of course, I can pay you something for it, too.”
For me, this was like winning the lottery. And it was zero percent about the money. The idea of just getting out of this tiny apartment, being outside, doing something with my hands… that was awesome. A welcome change from the constant daily routine in the small apartment.
Kev’s enthusiasm was visibly limited. I could see he had little desire to trade his gaming sessions for manual labor. But he still said with a shrug: “Yeah, OK. We could do that.”
No sooner said than done. The very next morning, Kev and I were on the bus, heading out to Tom’s. When we arrived, he was already standing in front of a huge barn, with tons of junk piled up in front of it. “Morning, boys,” he said. “Help me out, let’s get this sorted and cleaned up.”
I was full of energy, but Kev… well, you can probably imagine his face. Pure enthusiasm looked different. It was a hot day, and we quickly started sweating as we hauled all the old junk back and forth.
And then, suddenly, the farmhouse door opened.
A guy came out, no shirt, just a pair of tight, hot shorts. Blond, fit, six-pack. Maybe 16 years old. A really hot boy.
“Hey, you guys started without me?” he asked with a grin.
Tom smiled at him. “You looked so cute while you were sleeping, I didn’t want to wake you,” he said. “You had a lot to do last night, after all.” The subtext was impossible to miss. Then he turned to us: “Guys, this is David.”
So we greeted each other, introduced ourselves briefly, and immediately followed David’s lead: shirts off. In that heat, it was the only sensible thing to do.
At midday, there was a break with cool drinks and a snack. Tom magically produced some frozen pizzas from his oven, and we ate and drank together. And out of nowhere, another joint appeared.
Honestly, I didn’t feel like it at all, but I didn’t want to be the outsider, so I went along with it. Kev, on the other hand, was suddenly wide awake and totally into it. You can tell: hauling stuff isn’t his thing, but smoking weed… 🙂
The relaxed mood finally gave us a chance to chat with Dave—that is, David. He told us he’d finished his Realschulabschluss in the south of Germany a few months ago and had actually just come up north to visit friends. But he’d been here for a while now. He’d told his parents he was doing an internship here to improve his chances of getting an apprenticeship.
As he said that, I just thought to myself: Either his parents are incredibly naive, or they just don’t give a shit what their son is up to. Probably a mix of both. But okay, the most important thing was: David was basically one of us. Cool!
While we continued chatting, I saw that Tom was busy typing on his phone the whole time. Suddenly, he looked up. “Hey guys, change of plans,” he said. “David just got a job for this afternoon on short notice. How about we continue here on the farm tomorrow?”
I agreed immediately. I liked the prospect of another day out here.
Kev could barely hide his relief that the work was over for today. You could really see it on his face. He just shrugged his shoulders again. “Oh, I’ll see,” was his super motivated answer.
Tom pressed 20 Euros into each of our hands, and with a light, pleasant high from the last joint, Kev and I got on the bus and headed back to the city. When we got to the apartment, we immediately fell into our usual roles: Kev threw himself in front of the console, and I started to clean up the chaos from the morning.
Later, Alex came home, and you could immediately sense that something was wrong. He was visibly stressed. No “hello,” no smile. He just collapsed heavily onto the sofa and barked in my direction, “Jack, beer!”
Kev immediately dropped the controller, went over to Alex, hugged him from behind, and started talking to him quietly. The atmosphere in the room was totally charged. I knew right away that this was their moment and I would only be in the way.
So I decided it was better to leave them alone. I grabbed my things and went out—to the library, my second home.
You’re in the Way.
I guess I killed about two hours at the library, flipping through books without really absorbing anything. When I came back and opened the apartment door, I first thought a bomb had gone off in here.
Clothes were everywhere, empty beer cans. And in the middle of the chaos, on the sofa, were the two of them. Kev and Alex. And they were having what was probably the wildest sex I had ever seen. This wasn’t tender or playful. This was… different. Emotional, hard, charged. It looked like pure frustration sex.
When they noticed me, they didn’t even pause. Alex’s head just whipped around, and he snapped at me, with a coldness in his voice I had never heard from him before: “Leave us alone, you’re in the way!”
I was frozen. Stunned. Hurt. And completely overwhelmed. But what was I supposed to do? It was his apartment. I was just the guest who was obviously, definitely not welcome right now.
So I turned on my heel, quietly closed the door behind me, and went back to the library.
This time, the library wasn’t a retreat; it was an exile. I sat there, listlessly flipping through some book without reading a single word. In my head, I was just crying. The last time I felt so shitty and alone was when Paulsen at the group home stopped Kev and me from seeing each other.
Eventually, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Jasmin. “Hey Jack. We’re closing soon,” she said gently. Then she paused and studied me. “…Hey, you look like shit. Is something wrong?”
I tried to put on the best smile I had in stock. “Oh, it’s fine,” I lied. “Just a little fight at home, but everything’s okay.”
What was I supposed to tell her? That my “home” didn’t consist of a Mom and Dad, but of two fucking guys who had just thrown me out? Of course, I kept that to myself. So I slowly packed my things and started on my way back. Back “home.”
With trembling hands and a rock in my stomach, I stood in front of the apartment door again. I pushed down the handle, but it didn’t move. I tried my key. Nothing. The door was locked from the inside, and the key was in the lock.
They had locked me out. Literally.
What am I supposed to do? the thought shot through my head. Where am I supposed to go?
I knocked very quietly and shyly on the door. My voice was barely more than a whisper. “Hey guys, it’s me. Can I come in?”
The answer came immediately, loud and brutal. I didn’t know if it was Kev or Alex. The voice was full of anger.
“FUCK OFF!”
The sentence hit me like a slap in the face. I just stood there, in the cold hallway, staring at the door that separated me from my only home.
In that moment, my little world collapsed all over again. There I stood, in a T-shirt and shorts, with my backpack full of books and the 20 Euros from Tom in my pocket. That was all I had. The rest of my stuff and my anchor were on the other side of that fucking door. Unreachable.
I turned and ran. Out of the hallway, onto the street. And the tears just came. They flowed and flowed and flowed, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I just ran, with no destination, no direction. The main thing was to keep moving, so no one would see my tear-stained face. So no one would notice how I was really doing. Just keep going and going.
What do I do now? The thought hammered in my head. Are they just assholes? Or did I do something wrong? Did I piss them off? Should I have let Alex fuck me sooner? Is this just it?
I was so caught up in my misery and my thoughts that I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings anymore. Until a voice pulled me out of my aimless wandering:
“Hey, Jack!”
I startled, reflexively wiped my eyes, and looked around. And there, right in front of an Aldi, she stood with two full shopping bags in her hands: Jasmin.
My first thought: Earth, please swallow me whole. Immediately.
I only managed a quiet, “Hello, Jasmin.”
I saw right away that she noticed my tear-stained eyes. But she didn’t mention it. No “What’s wrong?”, no “Have you been crying?”. Instead, she just gave me a warm smile and nodded towards her shopping bags. “Will you help me carry these home?”
What could I say? In that moment, I could only nod and say yes.
Ten minutes later, we were sitting in her small, cozy kitchen. It smelled of herbs and coffee. She put down the bags and asked me directly, “Are you hungry? Should I cook something small?”
My first impulse was: No! Get out! As fast and as far away as possible. But another, louder voice in my head screamed: Who knows when you’ll get a proper meal again, kid!
I don’t know if it was pure reason or just naked survival instinct. But I heard myself say, “Yes, I’d love that.”
I don’t know why, but she didn’t press. She didn’t ask any more questions, just talked to me normally, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for us to be sitting and eating together in her kitchen. And it felt so incredibly good.
Then, when we were finished, she said, “If you want, you can sleep here on the sofa. I’ll just give your mom a quick call and let her know you’re here so she doesn’t worry.”
ALARM!
That sentence hit me like a bomb. Even though the offer of a warm, safe place to sleep was unbelievably tempting, there was no way I could let her find out that I had run away from a group home a while ago. I had to get out of there. Immediately.
“Hey thanks, but no, I think I have to go home,” I stammered. “Oof, it’s so late already. Thanks so much for the food.” And before she could say anything else, I was out the door.
And there I was again. Back on the street. My big “room and home” for the night. But there was a difference from Hamburg: I knew this little town. I knew I would survive one night outside.
Down by the small river, a little bit out of town, there were a few good, hidden spots. I made my way there, with loneliness as my only companion. “Good night,” I thought to myself. “Good night, dear loneliness.”
