Hey everyone! Ashley here. I'm SO sorry that it took so long to get this out. I had it all done and typed, and I thought I sent it in, but I guess I didn't. I'm not sure. My mailbox was being all messed up for a few days, you know how it is.

Anyway, here is part two, and part three should be out soon too. Yay. :) Oh, and by the way, you all should go read Mad Season by Dane. I love that story, and Dane kicks some major ass.

So, you all know the deal. This isn't true, I don't know 'N Sync or anything about their sexual preference...you get the deal. :)


Black Magic Two

When Kirkpatrick woke up that Saturday morning, life seemed to be perfect. He was in a nice, warm bed, and an equally warm body was wrapped around his own, and the house seemed to just be warm and toasty in itself.

JC's arms were secured tightly around Kirkpatrick's waist, his head resting on Kirkpatrick's shoulder from behind. Kirkpatrick loved waking up on weekends, glancing at the clock and seeing a wonderfully late time, like ten or eleven in the morning, and knowing that JC was spooning him from behind.

With an elaborate sigh, Kirkpatrick turned himself around in JC's arms, then pushed the lightly snoring man flat on the bed so that he could lie on top of him. Kirkpatrick had to smile when JC didn't wake up, just tried to roll over but couldn't.

Kirkpatrick grinned and pulled himself out of bed and pulled on a pair of pajama pants, the warmth that he'd woken up to suddenly gone. He plodded out of his bedroom and down the stairs and through the living room into the kitchen, flinching when his bare feet came in contact with the icy cold tile of the kitchen floor. Northbrook was always cold around this time of year, and Kirkpatrick knew that the cold temperatures that started in November probably wouldn't be gone until April. It was only mid-November at the time, and Kirkpatrick couldn't remember the last time the temperature was anywhere above forty-five degrees.

The empty coffee pot seemed to taunt Kirkpatrick, and he wished that the pot was full of steaming, rich coffee rather than bland Northbrook air. He rummaged through the cabinets, looking for the bag of coffee beans that JC had gotten at the grocery store on Tuesday, and Kirkpatrick wished he had a sweatshirt because no matter how closed the windows were, there always seemed to be a draft in the house.

The house was silent, and Kirkpatrick loved the feeling of home he felt when his feet made a little swooshing sound against the tile and the noise seemed to fall into the woodwork of the house because it just belonged there. He poured coffee beans into the coffee maker and filled it with water, then turned it on and opened up the fridge to see what he could conjure up for breakfast.

A smile crossed Kirkpatrick's tired features when he heard a floorboard creak above him, then another, and then finally footsteps descending down the staircase and into the kitchen.

JC yawned as he walked into the kitchen, stretching his arms above his head and then cuddling up behind Kirkpatrick in front of the open refridgerator. Kirkpatrick had to smile when JC's fleece sweatshirt came in contact with his bare skin, and he was glad JC decided to cling to Kirkpatrick in that sleep filled haze that he fell victim to every morning.

"Good morning, Josh," Kirkpatrick said with a grin. He pulled a carton of eggs out of the fridge, leaning back as he closed the door and then making his way to the stove and leaving JC behind to squint his red eyes at Kirkpatrick in confusion and bring a hand beneath his sweatshirt to scratch his stomach.

JC tiredly propped himself up on the counter, sitting next to the stove where Kirkpatrick would cook a breakfast.

"Do you want eggs?" Kirkpatrick asked, trailing a finger up and down JC's thigh.

JC smiled lazily. "No. Just you."

"I think you had enough of that last night. Not to mention that I told you to stop with the little cliches," Kirkpatrick said with a grin.

JC plopped down into a standing position and Kirkpatrick pulled his lover close to him. "So you want eggs?" Kirkpatrick asked, his voice huskily floating into JC's ear.

JC smiled, choosing to speak for the first time all morning. "No. Sperm."

Kirkpatrick pulled away from JC and shook his head, snickering. "That was the lamest thing you've said so far. And such a mood breaker," he commented.

JC smiled, reaching out for Kirkpatrick. "You know you love me anyway," he said, grinning when Kirkpatrick's arms rested loosely around his waist at last.

Kirkpatrick smiled with a deep breath. "Yeah. I do."


Kirkpatrick hated being alone in his house. It seemed so big and empty, and sometimes cold and uninviting. JC had gone out to do some grocery shopping, even though he had just gone on Tuesday. He wanted to get everything ready for Thanksgiving, which was the following week. Kirkpatrick wasn't even sure why. After all, Thanksgiving consisted of JC and himself at a table with way too much food for the two of them.

Kirkpatrick's mother hadn't enjoyed the idea of her own son being gay, and he hadn't talked to her in what seemed like forever. His sisters, though, called him occasionally, feeling guilty for their mother's harsh words and actions. None of them were in the position to just leave their mom behind, though, so they all stayed at home with Mom for Thanksgiving and occasionally gave a call to Chris.

JC's parents didn't know about his relationship with Kirkpatrick. They didn't know much at all when it came to their son's love life and sexual preference, and that was okay with JC. He would've rather stayed at home with Kirkpatrick on Thanksgiving anyway.

As Kirkpatrick sat at his desk, though, shuffling through old papers and such, he wondered if JC ever blamed him for having a lonely Thanksgiving. It was enough for Kirkpatrick, but sometimes he wondered if he was enough for JC.

With a shake of his head, Kirkpatrick neatened the pile of papers on his desk, then stowed them away into a drawer. He loved being in his office, however lonely it was. JC's desk was across the room from him, and sometimes, when they were both getting bored, they would look up simultaneously and their eyes would interlock and they would hastily finish their work knowing that there could be a sweet reward afterwards.

Kirkpatrick ran his hand over the smooth wood of his desk, then abruptly stopped when he remembered that damn tape. He ran a hand through his loosely spiked hair, then pulled the tape out of the pocket of his leather jacket from where it rested on te back of his swiveling desk chair. With a weary sigh, he crossed the room over to the lonely radio sitting on the window sill, complete with a tape deck. He placed the tape in the deck and hesitated for a moment.

He was sure the tape would be horrible. In Northbrook, no one seemed to be extraordinarily good at anything, especially not some lame freshman from the college. Kirkpatrick wondered, though, if maybe this boy was good at acting. After all, no one had ever given him a tape before to listen to on his own time.

With a shake of his head, Kirkpatrick closed the tape deck and pressed play, knowing that the only way to decide whether or not Justin was talented was to listen to the tape. A staticy sound surrounded him at first, but then Justin's voice came on. He was just clearing his throat at first, and Kirkpatrick could tell that it was a nervous gesture, and he had to smile.

"Umm...this is Mercutio's speech about Queen Mab from Romeo and Juliet," Justin said, his voice crackling over the speakers and into Chris' office. Chris thought that it was oddly sexy to hear his student's voice floating around leisurely in his living room, and he made his way to his desk chair quickly and sat back to listen.

Kirkpatrick prepared himself for a tape full of awkward pronunciations and a lack of emotion, and when Justin began in a timid voice by saying, "Oh, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you," Kirkpatrick just knew that he was wasting his time.

His ears perked, though, when he heard a little tremble in Justin's voice at the end of the word "you," and he realized that the softness of the voice was for effect, and when Justin said, "She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes in shape no bigger than an agate-stone on the fore-finger of an alderman," and his voice grew a tiny bit louder and firmer in its trembling madness that seemed to represent Mercutio perfectly, Kirkpatrick had to admit he was impressed.

Not to mention that Justin's smooth tenor voice was probably one of the sexiest voices he'd ever heard.

He pushed those thoughts aside and listened intently to the rest of the tape, smiling when Justin raved about Queen Mab's whip of a cricket bone and her carriage of a hazelnut, and then instantly cut off at the end of the long-winded speech at, "This is she-"

Kirkpatrick found himself shocked when the monologue abruptly ended and he realized that he wasn't in a playhouse; he was in his office, simply listening to a student. He was fully expecting Romeo's next line, and he heard it in his mind as if it, too, were flowing from his speakers, but alas, no one said Romeo's lines urging Mercutio to calm down.

"Umm...that was all. Was it okay? I hope I didn't sound too stupid. I feel kind of stupid sitting here alone in my room and raving on about Queen Mab. But anyway, let me know after class one day if you have a minute, okay? Um..thank you."

And with that, a little click forced its way through those speakers that suddenly seemed magical for bringing such a beautifully acted scene into play in Kirkpatrick's office, and a hiss now filled his ears. He quickly made his way over to the little radio and stopped the tape, then rewound it just in case he wanted to listen to it again.

As his finger lingered on the rewind button, Kirkpatrick idly wondered how many times you could listen to a tape before it wore out.


"Chris, what are we doing for Thanksgiving?" JC asked, wandering into the house and shouting out the question as he looked around for Kirkpatrick.

Kirkpatrick shot up at his desk in alarm, suddenly feeling guilty for listening to his student's tape at least five times only a few hours ago. After that he had stayed in his office, flipping on the little TV and watching it half-heartedly.

"Thanksgiving?" Kirkpatrick shouted back, not taking his eyes away from the TV even though he wasn't watching.

JC smiled and walked into the office, pulling Kirkpatrick out of his chair.

"Thanksgiving," he confirmed, his voice a stifled murmur as he held his lover close to him. "I missed you today. I was thinking about you and I remembered that Thanksgiving's in a few weeks."

Kirkpatrick shrugged. "What do you want to do for Thanksgiving?" he asked.

JC stood still for a moment, thinking, and Kirkpatrick watched as JC's face was set in a determined countenance, and he had to smile at JC's concentration. The little quirks like that were what made him love JC even more, like how concentrated he could be on something as simple as Thanksgiving.

JC loosely slung his arm around Kirkpatrick's waist, pulling him into the kitchen. "I'm thirsty," he explained as he pulled a bottle of Evian water out of the fridge. "Now about Thanksgiving."

JC sat down at the kitchen table and Kirkpatrick plopped down next to him, resting his chin in the palm of his hand and staring at JC expectantly.

"I was thinking of telling my parents this year," JC said, fiddling with the cap of his water.

Kirkpatrick sat up straight, looking at JC quizzically. "Are you sure?" he asked, wishing that JC would just look at him already instead of staring at the damn water bottle.

JC nodded, and finally looked up at Kirkpatrick. "Your mom knows, and I mean...I talked to my mom last night on the phone. She kept asking me if I found a girlfriend yet, and I just wanted to tell her. I mean...how badly can she react? Besides, I'm old enough to handle whatever her reaction is, you know?" JC said, having obviously thought out his decision thoroughly.

Kirkpatrick nodded at him. "Thanksgiving's only in a few days, though, Josh. Your mom probably already bought all of her Thanksgiving supplies, and we just bought our Thanksgiving stuff," he said.

"I was thinking maybe if my mom was...was okay with it, we could go there on Thursday and maybe have our own Thanksgiving here on Friday," JC said, looking at Kirkpatrick in hopes of a confirmation of his thoughts.

Kirkpatrick glanced at JC's features for a quick moment, making sure that this was what he really wanted. He then nodded briefly, hoping with everything inside of him that JC's parents didn't just disown him because Kirkpatrick didn't know how he would refrain from personally kicking their asses if they did. "When are you gonna tell them?" Kirkpatrick asked JC, reaching out to toy with JC's fingers briefly as JC took a sip of his water with his other hand.

JC looked down, then back up at Kirkpatrick. "Tonight?" he said, his voice soft.

Kirkpatrick sighed, taking a firm hold of JC's hand. "Tonight," he confirmed. "I'll be right here the whole time," he added as a reminder.

JC smiled then, a true smile that easily won out over the anxiety that had previously clouded his features. "I know."


As Kirkpatrick carried the cordless phone into the living room to JC so that he could call his parents, he felt like an undertaker working in a funeral home, opening the door to the grievers to allow them to enter a realm of sadness. Of course, he was being pessimistic and he knew that, he just knew that most families tended to turn their children away when they came out to them. He hoped and prayed and wished with everything inside of him that JC's family would be better about everything than his own mother had been, but he wasn't sure. At least now, JC had a mother and a father; he didn't just have a mother and a lousy father that left him when he was young to take care of his mother and sisters. Had he been JC, he would've been happy just to have both parents, let alone risk losing them just to tell them about a man he fell in love with.

Then again, though, Kirkpatrick knew that it was important. He knew that JC needed to be honest with his family to lift that heavy weight off of his shoulders, and he also knew he had to support that.

With a small smile, JC took the phone from Kirkpatrick and then held his free arm out, waiting for Kirkpatrick to sit on the couch and curl into JC's lanky frame. Kirkpatrick did as expected, wrapping his arms around Josh's waist and leaning his head on that bony shoulder that always seemed to make a perfect pillow despite the sharp bone beneath JC's flesh.

"You'll be fine," Kirkpatrick murmured, trailing a finger up and down JC's side.

JC nodded. "I know." They were silent for a moment, until JC hesitantly added, "I love you."

Kirkpatrick smiled then, knowing that no matter what happened he would be there for JC afterwards.

"I love you too," Kirkpatrick said, watching as JC nervously dialed the eleven numbers necessary to make a phone call to Maryland., where JC's parents lived.

As JC waited for his parents to pick up, Kirkpatrick wondered momentarily if he was supposed to feel this old and experienced while JC called up his mom and did what Kirkpatrick had done way back in his first year of college.

He sighed, though, and listened as JC greeted his mom nervously.

"Yeah, Mom, I'm fine...No...Yeah, I just had to talk to you."

Kirkpatrick found it oddly amusing for a moment that JC, a grown man, was reduced to a nervous little boy waiting to tell him mommy he stole the cookies from the jar, but he quickly shoved his amusement aside. He needed to be supportive.

"Is Dad around?...Oh, okay. I'll just...talk to him later, I guess...no, I still want to talk to you, Mom..."

Kirkpatrick tightened his grip around JC's waist and JC tightened his own grip on Kirkpatrick's waist as a reflex.

Kirkpatrick wondered how JC would say it. Would he just flat out say, "Mom, I'm gay?" Or would he hint at it...

He smiled when JC began to hint at it.

"You remember my roommate Chris, right Mom?" JC asked, hoping his voice wasn't shaking as much as he felt it shake.

Kirkpatrick imagined JC's mom saying that Yes, dear, she remembered Chris. That odd short man who taught drama.

"Well, he and I... " JC's voice faltered here, and Kirkpatrick sat up a little bit more to watch JC's face and be sure he didn't need to intervene anytime soon. JC took a deep breath, and Kirkpatrick heard a high pitched voice tinnily floating through the phone into the living room urging JC to go on.

"Chris and I...we're...Mom, we're more than just friends. We've been together..." JC quickly gulped down any air in his mouth and rushed out his words in a frenzy of syllables melting into a dark language of a nervous man. "We've been together really long I just thought I needed to tell you since you're my mom..."

His voice trailed off, and Kirkpatrick wasn't quite sure if JC even knew what he was saying, he just knew that JC's hand had gripped Kirkpatrick's so tightly that Kirkpatrick wasn't so sure that his fingers would be bendable after this whole ordeal was over. Still, though, he gripped JC's hand as well, offering his support as he nibbled on his lower lip nervously and watched his JC.

It seemed to be years before JC let out a long breath and said, "Yeah, Mom. I'm gay...no, I-yeah..."

Kirkpatrick couldn't tell by the quick yes or no answers JC was shooting at his mom how she was taking it, and he wasn't sure if JC knew either.

"I don't know, Mom. I was just afraid to tell you...I mean...when Chris told his mom she...she pretty much disowned him," JC said, glancing at Kirkpatrick with absent minded eyes.

Kirkpatrick smiled at JC and lightly brushed a stray hair away from JC's forehead, then ran his hand through JC's short dark hair to let him know that he didn't mind his example being brought into the conversation. It seemed like things were going okay...he just hoped they would stay that way.

JC continued to talk with his mother for a few minutes, and Kirkpatrick finally knew that things were going to be okay. After a few minutes of talking, JC covered the mouthpiece with his hand and said to Kirkpatrick, "Mom wants to know if we want to go there for Thanksgiving."

Kirkpatrick smiled at the huge grin that spread across JC's chiseled features, finding that some laughter spilled out of his mouth. He was so happy for JC that it was almost sickening, and he threw his arms around JC's waist again and said, "Tell her we'd love to," in a lazy manner.

JC smiled and relayed the message to his mom and Kirkpatrick idly wondered where Justin was going for Thanksgiving. With a frown, though, Kirkpatrick pushed the thoughts away. It was time to focus on JC and JC only. And he knew he could handle that.


"So what'd she say?" Kirkpatrick asked when JC finally hung up with his mother. He turned off the TV that he'd turned on, keeping the volume low while JC spoke.

JC smiled and sat next to Kirkpatrick tiredly. "At first she was a little confused. But then she was finally okay with it. Did you know that my Uncle's gay?" JC asked, glancing at Kirkpatrick. "That's why Mom was so okay with it. Her brother came out when he was in late high school, and their mom was awful to him. Mom didn't want to be like that and see her own children go through what he went through, so she was nice about it to me."

Kirkpatrick smiled. "Good. Which uncle is gay?"

JC smiled. "His name is David...I never see him, though, because he doesn't want to associate with the family all that much after the way they treated him. I don't blame him, though, you know?"

Kirkpatrick smiled and nodded. "And what about your dad?" he asked, smiling still.

JC sighed and shrugged. "I don't know. Mom's going to talk to him for me, and then we'll see what happens when we get there."

"Do you think he'll be okay with it, too?" Kirkpatrick asked, furrowing his eyebrows thoughtfully.

JC looked up at him earnestly, then shrugged.

"I don't know."


I hope you all liked it. :) Feel free to send me feedback at omni182@yahoo.com. It makes me very happy. :) Just drop me a line sometime, okay? Okay. :) Talk to all of you soon!