Date: Mon, 31 Aug 2009 14:34:19 -0400 From: Cole Angicent Subject: Unintended Consequences Part 4 Things fell into a sort of surreal routine. Both Kyle and Chris returned to their normal lives. For Chris, there was a lot of extra anxiety. Being a sex offender on probation was an incredibly difficult, anxious experience even for someone playing by all the rules, but now Chris was actively breaking Rule #1: Don't have sex with kids again. His monthly check-in with his probation officer now felt even more like walking into a trap, wondering whether she had been performing surveillance at just the right time to see Kyle enter or leave his apartment, or whether anyone in the neighborhood had called to report it. One of the rules required him to be home by 10PM unless working a late shift, and the first time his officer knocked on the door to check that he was home after curfew (an event that was previously less anxious and more annoying, seeing as how she had a tendancy to knock on the door at 2AM), he was sure that he was being arrested. And then there was therapy, where he was sure that everyone's eyes were constantly drilling into his head, trying to pry the truth out of him. As for Kyle, his newfound confidence, stemming from his conquest and power over one of the supposedly all-powerful adult population, was tempered by his ever-growing paradoxical guilt over his use of coersion to get what he wanted out of Chris, and the results pretty much cancelled each other out, leaving few people at all the wiser that anything had changed. Except Joel. Whilst perhaps not the sharpest knife in the drawer when it came to the ways of the world, Joel was a boy with a kind, sensitive heart, and moreover, Kyle's best friend. It took him all of ten seconds on Monday morning to stare at Kyle putting all of his books from his backpack into his locker and know almost everything there was to know about the essentials of the situation. "You did it," he told Kyle. "You got laid." It wasn't a question. He said it with such certainty that denial seemed impossible, so Kyle didn't try, merely nodded his confirmation. That single nod told Joel even more. "And you weren't going to tell me," he added, staring at his friend like a scientist stares into a microscope. "You're ashamed about it." Kyle gave Joel a dirty look, slamming his locker shut. "I'm not ashamed," he protested, turning towards their homeroom. Was it even possible that just a week before, he was standing in this spot showing his dick off to some skanky chick in a desperate shot for a blowjob? He rubbed the spot on his face where he'd been slapped, a lifetime ago. He was glad she'd said no. She probably wouldn't have done as good a job as Chris did, what with his experience. "It wasn't a girl, was it," Joel remarked, his tone betraying nothing of his opinion, save his desire to puzzle it out. Kyle's silence, of course, was as damning as a confession. "A boy here at school? No, if it was a boy at school you wouldn't have needed me to cover for you. Which went great, by the way, your mom seemed almost eager to get you out of the house." Kyle sighed. "Seven years of brain damage from sniffing glue in kindergarten and you choose /today/ for it to wear off," he complained, slipping past Mrs. Neilsen's desk and taking his usual seat. "You sniffed the glue too," Joel retorted, taking his seat next to his friend. "C'mon, tell me." Kyle looked around; as usual, Derrick seemed to be far too focused on their conversation than he had any right to be. Not for the first time, Kyle wondered irritably whether or not that kid was too pathetic to have a life of his own and stop eavesdropping. "Not here," he told Joel, casting a meaningful glance in Derrick's direction, to which Joel obediently nodded. Kyle secretly hoped that that would be the end of the matter; that perhaps Derrick's snoopy ways were something to be thankful for after all, and Joel would forget as the day wore on. But best friends are relentless, particularly preteen best friends on such taboo topics as sex and sexuality. Joel, who would normally have already been on his bus home, was leaning against the school's outer wall, one Ked planted firmly under his butt, his arms folded, waiting for Kyle to jump down the stairs and out of school for the day. With a sigh, Kyle finally took the other boy around back and told him the truth. "You're kidding," Joel said, staring in shock at his friend after he finished. "Nope. Pretty cool, huh?" Joel shook his head. "It's messed up, man." Kyle had been prepared for this opinion, or at least he thought he was. "Look, man, I told you, it ain't gay if you're just receiving." "It's not about the gay thing, dickwad," Joel asserted. "It's an /adult/. A sex offender, for fuck's sake." Kyle smirked. "I didn't find it very offensive," he quipped. He wasn't ready to admit to Joel that it had taken any pressure on his part to get Chris to perform. "He seriously knew how to work a kid's cock." Joel held up his hands as if to push the thought away. "You just don't get it," he grumbled, turning to walk away. Kyle put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Wait." Joel turned his head to look. "We're, umm... we're still cool, right?" Joel smirked, though the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "We're cool," he conceded. "I just... let's not talk about this for awhile, alright? I need to really think about it." That relieved Kyle, as he hadn't wanted to talk about it in the first place. There was nothing to talk about.... he had a need, he was getting that need met the only way he knew how, right? Certainly no one would fault him if the desperate urge he were feeling was hunger or thirst, and he was finding that his sex drive was an urge with just as much power. Chris was aware of this, and it was not an irony lost on him that the therapeautic techniques being taught to him in sex offender therapy, inapplicable as they were to his very deliberate and loving relationship with Darwin, would likely have been very helpful for Kyle to learn in order to control his lustful desires without having to resort to coercion of another human being. But he didn't see Kyle as likely to be an apt pupil in that regard; it had taken enough convincing to even get the boy to come into his apartment by going through the underground storm cellar and through his basement instead of brazenly knocking on the front door. It still was incredibly risky, but at least it was less likely for the wrong person to see him coming and going all the time. And so when Chris came home from work every night, he was unsurprised to find Kyle already there, eagerly awaiting his "servicing". The first couple of nights were the worst; the boy would barely say hello, drop trousers, get what he literally and figuratively came for and leave with barely a thank you, leaving Chris feeling truly used and discarded. As before, only the sweet memories of how loving and affectionate Darwin had been allowed him to cope with the experience, such that Kyle could feel the passion and the fervor with which Chris attacked his cock whenever the fantasies of Darwin played out in his head. On the third night, the man had even moaned ferally, his sucking motion intensifying, as he felt Kyle's fingers pressed against his head during orgasm and remembered when Darwin used to play with his hair, tapping his little fingertips playfully against the back of the man's scalp. Detaching himself from Kyle's wilting penis, Chris fell back against his pillow, panting, the memory so intense that he'd almost come himself. He was glad that they'd moved their sessions to the bedroom, so he could at least lay back and recouperate. This time, Kyle didn't run away afterwards, laying down next to Chris without even pulling his shorts back up, propping his head up with his arm to look serenely into the man's face. "You loved him a lot," the boy commented. It wasn't a question. Nor was there any need to clarify who Kyle was asking about. "I did," he admitted, smiling softly. It was nice to have someone else he could say that to, if nothing else. "I can feel it." Kyle looked as though he wished to say more, but elected against it, the silence stretching between them for a full minute before he finally stood up, pulling up his shorts. "I should go." He started to leave, but stopped at the door to the bedroom, looking back at the tired man. "Chris?" "Yeah?" Kyle smiled sadly. "He was a very lucky boy." For the first time since he'd met Kyle, Chris smiled genuinely at the youth. "I hope he still thinks so." He bit his lip. "Kyle, can I... ask a favor?" "Yeah?" Chris sighed. "Could you maybe... y'know, not come over this Friday? You can still come tomorrow, but, well... Friday's ten years. Since the day they locked me up. I'd kinda like to be alone that day." Kyle paused only a moment before nodding. "Sure. Sure, I guess I can skip one day." "Thanks." ============================ Short update, I know. Must've been the lack of feedback. ;)