Date: Sun, 20 Aug 2000 18:20:06 -0500
From: Silent Kid <silentkid@angelfire.com>
Subject: affirmation 15

Here's the new chapter.  This one is a bit different from the others.  A
big thank you to everyone who wrote before.  Please keep writing so I know
how I'm doing, if the story still holds your interest.  Amber :)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.  None of the celebrities involved
are necessarily the way they are portrayed.  This story involves homosexual
activity.  If you shouldn't be reading this for reasons of age or legality,
please do not read it.----


The sight that greeted the three of them as the elevator door opened on
their floor was enough to snap Darren out of his self-involved reverie,
send Shane into a fury, and cause Stephen to emit such low growling noises
as though they started in his toes and bubbled up through him.  Not ten
yards away was J, his back to them.  And in front of him, on his knees, was
Ronan.  One hand on J's side, just above the hip, pushing his shirt up.
The other hand seemingly caressing his belly.  It was hard to tell from
this angle.  J's left hand was buried in Ronan's hair, massaging his head.
His right hand held his own shirt up, as high as it would go without coming
off.  His head bent, he watched Ronan below him.

Darren slowly turned, wondering about Stephen.  But the little one was
already off, storming lightly to the pair.  Undetected until he shoved J
onto Ronan.  They fell together, J with an "oomph" and Ronan with a
discombobulated moan.  J rolled off him immediately, and Stephen plopped
down on Ronan's chest.

"What the feck?" he shouted.

Ronan stammered, "It's not what you think, Steo."

"I think you're fucking around again!" Stephen yelled.

"No!  He was just showing me something!  Show him, J!" Ronan pleaded.

Stephen turned to J, eyes burning.  "What?" he demanded.

The tiniest of smiles on his lips, J pulled his shirt up, showing off his
brand new bruise, courtesy of Mr. Williams.

"What's that?" Stephen asked.  Then, "Never mind, I don't care right now."

"That's all I was doing, just looking at it."  Ronan was calm now, his
voice the steady, soothing patter of one who is right and knows it.

Stephen, however, was having none of it.  "And you had to go down on your
knees to see it, did ya?  I can see it from five feet away!  But not you,
no, you had to get close enough to kiss it!"

With that, Ronan twisted and dumped Stephen off him with no effort at all.
"You're one to talk, Stephen," he hissed.  "I know what you've done!"

"In your imagination, maybe!" Stephen retorted.  "You're the cheater in the
relationship, remember?"

Ronan hovered over him, on the cusp of control.  "Only because I got there
first," he growled.

Behind him, J smiled to himself.  Darren wanted to kick him.  But he
didn't, he just stayed against the wall, out of the way.  Shane, though,
grabbed Ronan and pulled him back.  He shoved him to the wall, and poked a
finger in his chest.

"Stop feckin' with my Steo, Ro!"

"Oh, he's your Steo now, is he?" Ronan eyed him coldly.  "I knew it."  He
shouted over him to Stephen, "You're fucking him, aren't you?"

Stephen simply laid on the floor, dubious.  "Oh, my, God," he managed.
"What the feck is wrong with you?"

Ronan glared insanely at Shane.  "Why don't you tell me, Shanno?  You got
something going on with my baby?"

The angry combination of the crude question with the loving sobriquet
struck Darren as funny, especially coming from Ronan.  He stifled a laugh.
Instantly, Ronan was on him, slipping beneath Shane's arm, and throwing
Darren to the floor.

"You got something to say, Dazza?"

"Don't call me Dazza," came to mind, but he simply shook his head, too off
guard to form words.  Ronan stood over him, reeking of superiority.

"It's him isn't it?  You've fecking got a thing for him, don't ya?" he
yelled to Stephen.

"Fuck you, Ronan," Stephen said.

"Robbie wasn't enough for ya, was he?" Ronan demanded.  He pulled at
Darren's shirt roughly.  Darren's teeth chattered.  He was soon released,
though, and fell back to the floor.  Shane gripped his arm and pulled him
up.  He leaned into him and whispered,

"Get out of here, Darren.  You're gonna get hurt."

He didn't need to be told twice.  He hi-tailed it to the stairwell.  The
last thing he heard before the door closed was Stephen shouting,

"Can't I go out without you fucking J?"

Darren hesitated in the cement haven.  He peered over the railing, and
gulped, thinking of his near fall.  He started down, and stopped before his
foot hit the step.  No, he had to go where he wouldn't be found.  He went
up, all the way up, running flight after flight until, breathless, he burst
through the rooftop door.  He bent over, his hands on his knees, gasping
for air.  It was beautiful, a rooftop garden, a glorious vista of the city,
and the sun shining as bright as any summer's day.  Best of all, huge stone
benches and not a soul about.  He stretched out on one, absently stroking
its side, relishing the rough texture beneath his fingertips.  A butterfly
idly fluttered by.  He smiled lightly.  Oh yeah, this was it.  Perfection
at last.  He hummed to himself, thinking of nothing but the wonder around
him.  It was such a relief, not thinking of Robbie for once.  Oh shit, he
was thinking of Robbie.  He stood up, his delight receding.  He looked down
at the street below.  Which way had he gone?  LaGuardia or JFK?  Probably
JFK.  Did LaGuardia have flights to London?  He didn't know.  Why was he
even thinking about it?  This sudden need to know the direction Robbie had
taken once he'd left him swirled distastefully within him.

The door creaked open.  He turned and saw J walking towards him.  Darren
raised his hand in half greeting.  "How'd you find me?" he asked.

"I saw you go up," J said.  He eyed him strangely.  Darren turned away from
him.

"Are they done fighting?"

"Stephen's locked himself in your room," J said.

"Oh.  I guess I should go down there."

A hand on his shoulder.  "I wouldn't.  Ronan's still down there.  You might
get hurt."  J's arm slid around him, his words tickled his ear.

"Yeah," Darren said quietly.  "Look, I don't want to be rude, but I'd
really like to be alone right now."

J nodded.  "I understand.  But don't you think I know what you're going
through?"

Darren stared at a passing cloud.  No, no he really didn't think J had any
idea what he was going through.  He did know, however, that J was still
standing here with his arm around him.

"You're not the only one, Darren, who's loved and lost," he whispered.  His
hand dropped down to Darren's pectoral.  His stomach leapt as J gently
rubbed his shirt against his nipple.  And J kept talking, low in his ear as
he teased the most sensitive spot on Darren's body.  "But does it really
count for you, Darren?  Did he ever love you back?"  Darren shivered.  "Do
you know what it's like to be with him, Darren?" J asked.  "To feel him
inside you? To be inside him?"

"Robbie said you should leave me alone," Darren said tensely.  He was
frozen, unable to even lift a hand to knock J away from him.  But he
desperately wanted him away from him.  He couldn't reconcile these
feelings.  Discomfort and disgust above, and unwanted pleasure below as J's
teasing fingers had led to a secondary difficulty, namely, his pants
getting tighter.  He wanted J away from him.  Now.

"Shame Robbie isn't here now, isn't it?" J purred.  Yes, purred.  "I wonder
what he would think of this..."  His hand traveled down to Darren's crotch,
gently cupping it through his leather pants and oh so lightly rubbing it.
"Did Robbie ever do this to you, Darren?"  The touch snapped Darren out of
his trance.  He knocked J's hand away, stumbled back.

"Don't. Touch. Me." he hissed.  A step more, and he tripped, falling onto
the bench.  He straddled it, daring J to come towards him. Which, of
course, he did.  J sat behind him, his legs on either side of the bench,
leaving no space between Darren's butt and his thighs.  He rested his chin
on Darren's shoulder as he again reached between Darren's legs.

"Do you like that?" J asked, tracing the outline with his
fingernail. Frozen again.  His ass was tingling.  Anything he said would be
a lie.  So he didn't say anything at all.  J unbuttoned his pants, the
zipper dropped.  Darren jerked upright.

"J!" he shrieked.

J pulled him back against his chest.  His arm clamped around his neck.  As
Darren sputtered for his breath, J intoned, "Do you want me to force you,
Darren?"

Darren slowly shook his head.  Anyone else, and he would have told them to
fuck off, leave him alone.  But J would get whatever he wanted anyway, no
matter what he did.  Stoicly, Darren surrendered as J slid his hand into
his pants.  J curled his fingers around him and started stroking.  A chill
tangled through him.  He hadn't been touched there in so long, not even by
himself.

"Please stop," he gasped, at the same time thinking that maybe he deserved
this.  If he hadn't been so stupid, hadn't told Robbie he loved him and
chased him away, then he wouldn't be here right now, on this bench with J.
He'd be somewhere else.  Anywhere else.  Maybe this was his punishment for
being a moron.

But J didn't stop.  He got up, though, and moved around to sit in front of
him.  He clutched Darren's thighs and scooted him towards him.  Then he
gently but firmly pushed him down until he was laid out on the bench.

"What are you doing?" Darren asked trepidatiously.

J smiled smoothly at him.  He tugged at his pants, pulling them down below
his hips.  Darren tugged at his shirt, trying to cover himself.  J squeezed
his hands.

"That's rather pointless now, don't you think?" he asked.  Darren blushed
as J examined him.  He finally nodded in approval.  Darren tried to roll
off the bench, to get away, but his legs were caught under J's. He was
trapped.

"Please stop," he said again, feeling overly foolish.  As J slid down him,
he squeezed his eyes shut.  I deserve this, I deserve this, I deserve this,
he forced the mantra through his head.  He felt something wet on his penis.
He looked down, and J was licking it in one long stroke.  Darren's mouth
dropped.  J glanced up at him.  He stretched his arm out, planted it firmly
on Darren's chest, pinning him down.  Darren felt the moist heat all around
him and knew he was in J's mouth.  J reached under his shirt.  He twisted,
pulled, and tickled Darren's nipple as he swirled his tongue around his
cock.  He teased his sensitive slit with kittenish, darting licks, almost
dropping him from his mouth before sucking him all at once, down to the
hilt.  Darren bit his lower lip.  He clamped his mouth shut, scared that he
would say "No!" and stop him, but more frightened of opening it and having
a moan come out.  A much more viable option at this point.  He couldn't
stifle a groan, coming more from his stomach than his mouth.  "Ohhh."  A
surprised sound, he didn't recognize it as his own.  J's lips moved, and
without seeing him, Darren knew he was smiling.

J's hand moved up to Darren's lips.  He rubbed against his plush mouth.
Then, delicately, he slid his four fingers into Darren's mouth.  Purely on
instinct, Darren wrapped his lips around them and slowly sucked them.  J
worked them in and out of his mouth and Darren puckered, grabbed them back
into his mouth with his lips.  All the while, J kept working him, swirling
his tongue over him, licking his balls with a hint of roughness, and that
sensitive spot just below them.  Darren's thighs vibrated helplessly.  J
pulled his hand away, and quickly replaced it with the other one.  Just the
middle finger, he plunged it into his mouth, scraping the inside of his
cheeks as Darren fought to control it within him.  His whole body burned in
exquisite pleasure.  The slightest touch hurt.  But he couldn't stop.  He'd
crossed the point of no return.

J's lips returned to his throbbing penis.  He licked the top of it, nearly
sending Darren into spasms.  Then, a new sensation.  Something prodded him
down there.  No, further down.  He gasped as a finger penetrated him.  Or,
he would have, if J's finger weren't holding his tongue down just then,
almost choking him.  He could feel it inside him, just the tip.  He
shuddered as J deepthroated him, pushing the finger in all the way at the
same time.  J started to fuck him with it, slowly keeping time with the
work his mouth was doing.  He pushed a second finger in, rubbing it against
the other one, and gingerly working them against his prostate.  Darren
flailed his arms, out of his head.  Ecstasy, pain?  What?  Both.
Definitely both. He sought to pull J out of him with one hand, while the
other tried to force his head onto him more.  J slid his finger out of
Darren's mouth, and grabbed his hand, pulling it away from his ass.  He
kept his fingers in him, still fucking him.  Darren's dick dropped from his
mouth.

"Don't fight it, Darren," he advised. "Robbie loved it."  Then he swallowed
him again as a third finger forced its way into his hole.  He couldn't help
himself.  Darren moaned as tears sprang to his eyes.  He finally understood
the meaning of perfect pain.  This was it, most definitely.  A tear
trickled down the side of his face, he ground his teeth together.  He saw
red, and suddenly another force over took him.  With J still buried deep
within him, he thrust up into J's mouth, uncontrollable, and shot into him.
J kept his mouth on him, still sucking until Darren had nothing more to
give.  The fingers, still stroking in his bottom, overly sensitive, too
tired, sent Darren into spasms again.  Goosebumps prickled up on his legs,
thighs, and arms.  J leaned over him.  He smiled smugly.  His lips touched
Darren's; his tongue pried Darren's mouth open.  Lost to everything, Darren
let him in, and got the surprise of his life as J spit into his mouth.  It
took a second for Darren to realize that J had spit his own cum into him.
Laying on his back, he couldn't help but swallow it.  And what didn't roll
down his throat, gagged him.  He turned his head, coughing and spitting, as
J rammed his fingers into him one last time before removing them.

With J finally off him, Darren sat up, self consciously doing up his
trousers.  He rubbed at his mouth furiously with his sleeve.

"Why did you do that, J?  That was so gross!"

J shrugged.  "It just seemed like the right way to end a rape."

Darren stopped, his mouth hidden behind his sleeve.  "Rape?" he asked
blankly.  "That wasn't a rape," he said, more to himself than to J.  Was
it?

J raised an eyebrow at him.  "Did you want it, Darren?"

No, not really.  But he'd deserved it anyway, hadn't he?  So, it couldn't
be a rape.

"I can see you're confused," J said helpfully.  He put his arm around him,
and rubbed his nipple again.  "We won't tell anyone about this, will we?"
he suggested.

"Get away from me!" Darren shouted.  "You're so stupid, J!  Everyone knows
boys can't be raped!"  He knew it was ridiculous. He knew boys could be
raped, but not him.  He wasn't one of those boys.  He'd wanted it.  Maybe
he just hadn't realized it.  Yes, that was it.  J had known what he'd
wanted and he'd given it to him.  Good ol' J. Yes, not a rapist.  Not his
rapist.  Not possible.  Darren Hayes was not the sort of man who could be
raped. Not the sort at all.  Realizing J was still touching him, he ducked
away from him.  "Don't touch me!"

Darren ran to the door, down the stairs, his eyes clouded and unseeing, and
his mind whirling, seeking solace, understanding, but finding nothing but
denial.  He reached his floor, and stopped short three feet from Ronan.
Ronan was sitting in Darren's doorway, his head against the door.  Tears
poured out of his eyes.

"Please, baby," he screamed, "Just open the door! I'm sorry!  I love you!
Please!  Stephen!"  He pounded his hand against it feebly, obviously worn
out.  Darren stared at him.  Ronan slowly turned, as though sensing him.
He leapt up, and grabbed him.  Darren inhaled sharply.

"Where is it?" Ronan demanded.  His hands dipped into Darren's pockets, and
rubbed against his thighs and his ass.  "Where's your key?"

The rough touch on his still sensitive skin sent Darren into a tizzy.
Maybe J could take advantage of him, if that's what he wanted to call it,
but Ronan sure as hell couldn't.  He snapped. Blindly, near tears, Darren
shoved him away.

"You're insane!" he screamed.  "You're all fucking insane!"  Ronan stared
at him in disbelief.  He stepped aside as Darren threw himself against his
door.  "Stephen Gately! Open this fucking door right now!"

In a second, the door opened, and a sheepish Stephen stepped back.  Darren
whipped inside, and slammed and locked it again as Ronan was about to
follow him.  The Irishman pounded the door.  "Shut the fuck up, Ronan!"
Darren ordered.  The pounding stopped.  Stephen watched, wide-eyed, as
Darren grabbed his suitcase.

"What are you doing, Daz?" he asked quietly.

"I'm getting fuck out of here," Darren growled.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going home."

"Is it something we did?" Stephen asked.

Darren didn't answer.  He shoved his clothes into his suitcase.  He tried
to close it, and failed.  Stephen stopped him.

"Let me," he said.  Darren sat down on the desk chair as Stephen expertly
closed it up.  "Does it have to do with J?" he asked.

Darren's head jerked up, then dropped.

"I saw him follow you," Stephen said.  "What did he do to you?"  He hooked
a finger under Darren's chin, made him look at him.

"I have to get out of here," Darren said.

"Do you want me to go to the airport with you?"

"No."  He stood and dragged the suitcase off the bed.  He tried to pick it
up, but in his weakened state, he simply couldn't.  He burst into tears.
Stephen watched him in shock.  Darren didn't care.  His shoulders shook as
he wept.  He wondered why Stephen hadn't come to hug him yet.

"I..I can send your luggage to you later, Darren.  It's probabably too much
for you to take right now, yeah?" Stephen offered.

"Ok," he said.

"Are you going to tell me what J did?"

J. No, he wasn't going to tell.  "I can't stay here," Darren said.  He
handed Stephen a business card. "Just send my stuff here, okay?"

Stephen nodded.

Darren opened the door, and nearly tripped over Ronan.  He didn't bother
closing it.  Let the two of them work it out.

"Where are you going?" Ronan asked.  "Where are you going?" J echoed.  He
was there too, leering at him, his fingers rubbing his lips.  The fear
engulfed Darren, and he ran down the hall, knowing he looked silly, but he
couldn't help it. He had to get away.  The elevator door closed, and the
last thing he saw was J, sliding the fingers into his mouth.  His butt
hurt.  His body throbbed.  Get to the airport without crying.  Get to the
airport without crying.  Home. Home.  That was the new mantra.

----

After the last chapter, a few people asked if the story was over since
Robbie was gone.  It is not.  The next chapter takes the story in a new
direction.  It will still follow Darren.  It may have a new name, but it
will still be found in Affirmation.  Best, Amber

comments to silentkid@angelfire.com