The usual disclaimers apply. DO not read this if you are not allowed to, or don't get caught. If you don't like sex between teenage males then back out now. This does not imply anything about the sexuality of Jonathan Taylor Thomas. I wish it did though!
This is my first attempt at a story so I would really appreciate any comments, good or bad.
PART 9
"What did he do?", Jonathan asked.
"He called some old lady a bitch and a whore", Ryan said frantically.
"He did what?", I exclaimed.
"We were holding hands", Ryan began, "And she walked past us and said that we were disgusting. So Michael told her to f**k off and called her all the names he could think of. One of the crew heard him and dragged him off".
"Well, maybe it's for the best", I said.
"Yeah", Jonathan agreed, "We'll be at shore in ten minutes. They'll send him home. We were gonna send him home anyway."
"So what, you're allowed to be happy and I'm not?", Ryan screamed.
"What do you mean?", Jonathan asked.
"What I mean is why should you get to run off with Nicky but I have to send Michael home. Would you leave Nicky in there with security and say to hell with him?".
"I guess not", Jonathan replied, "But what can we do. They'll recognise me".
"But not me", I chipped in, "I'll go in there".
"What will you say?", Jonathan asked.
"I don't know", I replied, "I'll tell you when I come out".
With that I took a deep breath and putting on my most innocent face I headed towards the door.
"What did my brother do this time?", I asked as the security guards looked up at me walking in.
"He's your brother?", one of the security guards asked.
"Yeah", I replied.
"Let me get this straight", the other one said, "He has a scottish accent, you have an Irish accent, he's blonde, your'e dark, you look absoloutely nothing alike, and your'e trying to tell me he's your brother?".
"That's right", I said.
"Give me a break kid", he said.
"If you must know", I said, "Our parents are divorced and I live in Ireland with Dad and he lives in Scotland with Mom. It's not my fault my parents got a divorce and then you start making fun...".
I turned on the water works and started sobbing. Michael followed my cue and started wailing like a baby.
"Ok kid, I believe you", the security guard said, "I'm sorry about your...siuation. Jeez there's no need to cry.
I dried my eyes. Suckers I thought to myself. I took Michael's hand and started to head for the door.
"Hey hold it", one of them said, "Your brother insulted one of our passengers".
"Why?", I asked them.
"Because she took offence to his relations with another boy", the man said embarrased.
"So are you telling me that this ferry company condones gay bashing from it's passengers?", I asked.
"She didn't touch him", the guard defended himself.
"Not physically, but verbally", I snarled, "Look he's traumatised".
Michael started up his crying again.
"I have an older brother too", I said, "And he's a journalist. He might just get that really juicy story he's been after. 13 year old traumatised aboard well known Irish Ferry Company".
"Are you threating us?", the security guard said.
"No. But with every passing minute it seems like a better idea", I said.
"Just get the hell out of here", the guard snarled, "But if I have any more trouble from any of you then I'm bringing your parents down here".
"No problem", I replied, and Michael and I got out of there as quick as we could.
We reached England without any more hiccups and once we were safely off the boat I felt relieved but also scared. Jonathan saw the worried look on my face and squeezed my hand.
"We'll be OK Nicky", he reassured me.
I wanted to believe him, but I knew he couldn't tell that for sure.
"Oh no", Jonathan said looking over the top of his sunglasses.
"What?", I asked looking at his face and then following his gaze. There it was on a newspaper placard. The face of an angel. My angel.
We walked to the bus terminal a bit down the road and looked over the schedule. We hadn't a clue where we were going, but when Jonathan nudged me and pointed something out, we knew where Michael was going.
"So Michael", Jonathan said, "Didn't you say you were from Edinburugh in Scotland?".
"Yeah", Michael replied.
"Got any family there, apart from your folks?", Jonathan asked.
"Yeah, I've got loads of...", Michael trailed off as he realised where this was leading, "But I can't go home, my parents are in Ireland".
"It's not up for discussion", Jonathan said sternly.
"No it's not. He's coming with us", Ryan shouted.
"Ryan, he can't", I said.
"You shut your mouth", Ryan said turning to me, "It's none of your god damn business".
I held up my hand's in defeat knowing he would listen to nothing I had to say.
"Ryan", Jonathan said, "I let you bring him here. I told you that when we got to England he would have to go home".
"Oh, you let me did you", Ryan screamed, "Since when did you allow or disallow anything I did. You're not my father".
"No I'm not", Jonathan said sternly, "I'm your cousin, and while you are here with me I am responsible for you".
"Screw you Jonathan", Ryan said, "Come on Michael. Let's spilt from these losers".
They started to walk away.
"Ryan get back here", Jonathan shouted.
"Get screwed", was the reply, "Everything has to revolve around you Jonathan. Mr. Superstar. Everything's about you and Nicky. Nothing about me and Michael. Just cos you're famous doesn't mean that you have more right to be happy than me.
"Just let him walk on a bit and cool off", I told Jonathan, "We can follow him in a minute".
"But he doesn't know where he's going", Jonathan said, obviously distressed over the situation.
"Just give him five minutes and we'll follow", I assured him.
"Ok", Jonathan relented, "Five minutes. He couldn't get far, could he?".
I managed to keep Jonathan still for about three minutes before he insisted we had to follow. We walked around the corner they had taken expecting to see them in the distance. We stopped in shock. A maze of streets and hoards of people clammered about their business. There was absoloutely no telling which way they'd gone.
"But you said we could follow them", Jonathan said in disbelief.
"I'm sorry...I...I didn't realise that there was so many streets. It's so quiet where we were standing a minute ago. I thought that...".
"No", Jonathan said, "You thought nothing. I shouldn't have listened to you. Now we've lost them".
I hung my head. I felt hurt. I knew he was upset and didn't really mean it.
"I'm sorry", he said without feeling, "Come on we'll try this way".
We made our way through the crowds of people watching out for the two runaways. We searched for what seemed like hours without success. It seemed hopeless. They could have gone anywhere. I felt terrible. I couldn't help thinking it was my fault. Jonathan didn't speak to me. I just followed him as he rushed about.
"Jonathan we have to stop", I said, "My lace is open". I was rushing to keep up with him. He kept going.
"Jonathan, my lace is open", I tried again.
He ignored me rushing on. The next thing I heard was the smack of my forehead hitting the concrete. The pain shot through my head like nothing I'd ever felt before. I tried to get up but I was dizzy and couldn't. I looked around and saw that people were gathering. My head swam and I tried to find Jonathan among the crowd. I couldn't see him and the tears welled up in my eyes making my vision worse.
"Jonathan?", I said weakly.
I felt something wet on my forehead and realised it was blood.
"Jonathan", I cried.
Then I heard him.
"Get out of my way", he was shouting, presumably at the crowd that had gathered around me.
"It's Ok, I'm here", he said putting his arms around me, kissing me softly on the cheek.
"What are you all looking at?", Jonathan said fiercely to the crowd.
"Isn't that Jonathan Taylor Thomas!", I heard a woman whisper.
"Yes it is", Jonathan roared, "I am Jonathan Taylor Thomas. And this is Nicky. My boyfriend".
There were a couple of gasps and a few sniggers.
"Oh, you think it's funny?", Jonathan snarled, "Well I don't find anything funny about a crowd of people who will stand and watch a young man lieing on the street bleeding, and do nothing to help. You people make me sick".
A silence fell over them then as they hung there heads in shame and allowed us to pass through.
When we'd made it through the crowd a man approached us.
"Hey, I only caught the end of that, but I agree with you. These people make me sick too. I'm ashamed to say I belong to this town".
Jonathan nodded to him and we started off again.
"Wait. Sorry I didn't introduce myself. I'm Dr. Vince Grant", he said showing us his identification. Can I take a look?", he said holding up his doctors bag and pointing at my head.
"No, I'm Ok", I said stumbling forward.
"I think he should take a look", Jonathan said.
"Ok, but just a quick look", I relied.
"Jonathan, Jonathan", Ryan shouted as we looked up to see him and Michael running accross the street. "What happened?", he asked looking at my head.
"I happened", Jonathan said ashamed.
"You hit him again?", Ryan asked in disbelief.
"No he didn't", I said.
"Not much difference", Jonathan replied.
"Don't Jonathan", I said firmly, "I don't blame you".
"Where were you anyway?", Jonathan shouted at Ryan as we walked throught the street with Dr Grant.
"We were just looking around the shops", Ryan replied.
"Do you know how worried I was?", Jonathan asked.
"I'm sorry", Ryan said.
"Me too", Michael added.
"I don't know what's going on with you kids", Dr Grant said, "But what I do know is that it sounds as if it's gone on too long. But don't worry, I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do. I read about you in the newspaper this morning. I don't know why you ran away, but I can guess. It can't be easy being gay huh?".
"It's not that", Jonathan said, "It's a long story. Too long to tell in one day. But thanks for helping us".
"Here we are", Dr Grant said walking through a doorway into a surgery. This is my offices. I spend most of my time on the street or in hostels helping runaway kids, just like you. But I have to say this is the first time one of the runaways has been an American film star".
Jonathan blushed. He wasn't one for glory.
"Right, sit there and let me take a look at you", Dr Grant said pointing me to a chair. "What happened your eye", he asked, "You look pretty badly beaten up".
"I..I fell", I offered feebily.
He looked at me and then looked at Jonathan who had guilt written all over his face.
"It was me", Jonathan said weakly, "I hit him".
"You had a good reason?", Grant asked.
"None at all", Jonathan said, "It was stupitd and it will never happen again".
"I have an obligation you know, to report domestic violence to the social services", Grant said.
My heart leapt into my throat and I jumped up.
"You can't. We're leaving. Come on guys".
"Hold up", Grant said, "I said I have an obligation, I didn't say I was going to carry it out. If you told me you walked into a door then that's good enough for me".
I relaxed then and let him clean up my cut head. He gave me some paper stitches and I looked in the mirror. I looked like I'd been through the wars alright. But for once I didn't feel sorry for myself. I felt stronger, more mature. Silly really. Dr. Grant offered to make us some tea and we agreed. He left us alone.
"Maybe we should get out of here", Jonathan suggested, "I don't trust him".
"He seems alright", Michael said.
"Yeah", Ryan agreed, "Plus I could do with something to drink".
So we stayed.
We were drinking our tea and chatting when we heard the front door to the surgery open.
"I'm sorry guys. I couldn't let you stay on the streets", Dr. Grant said hanging his head.
"What have you done?", Jonathan asked his voice shaking.
Grant hung his head even lower.
"I said what have you done?", Jonathan screamed.
The intercom buzzed and a nurse with a real screechy voice announced, "Social services are here Dr. Grant."
I looked at Jonathan. He turned his head to look at me and then he looked at the door. I knew what to do. I ran. Michael made it to the door first and he was quickly grabbed by Dr. Grant who was hot on his heels. I paused but Jonathan grabbed me and dragged me on. A large burly man flung himself on Ryan knocking him to the floor. Another grabbed me by the waist and pushed me up against the wall. He was quickly shoved off me by Jonathan who grabbed my hand and with a burst we flew onto the busy street.
"What about the boys", I yelled to Jonathan as he continued to run.
"It's for the best Nicky. They'll be safe now", Jonathan said.
I opened my mouth to argue but I knew he was right. They should never have come in the first place. They'd have a safe passage home now. The large man chased us for about a block, but red faced and panting he soon gave up and we were free again. But for how long I wondered. How long could we keep this up? How long could I go without breaking my arms or legs or getting run over. My personal injury claims could go through the roof the way I was going lately.
We kept running for another ten minutes until we were sure we were safe.
"I feel bad about the boys Jonathan", I said when we stopped.
"Don't", he replied, "It's for the best. Someone was going to get hurt. It's easier if it's just us".
"I guess you're right", I said.
"I love you", Jonathan said, "You know that right?".
"I know, and I love you too".
We both laughed, it sounded so corny.
"We have to get something to eat and find somewhere to stay", Jonathan said.
I was tired and really hungry and it sounded like the best idea I'd ever heard.
We grabbed a Mc Donalds to take out and went accross the road to a hostel.
"A double room for the night", Jonathan said to the young girl behind the counter.
She didn't look more than fourteen and she also looked like she was about to wet herself.
"Jo...Jonathan", she whispered going red.
Jonathan wasn't in the mood and he let her know straight away.
"We're tired and hungry and our foods going cold. Now can we please have a room".
She looked disappointed but she took the money and gave us our key. We walked towards the stairs.
"That was a bit mean", I said nudging him.
"I love you Jonathan", the girl called after him.
He turned and gave her a quick smile and we headed on up the stairs. I wouldn't have been surprised if she'd fainted.
We sat cross legged on the bed and ate our food. We chatted about nothing really. Things like computers and films and books. Just regular stuff. Nothing about parents or fights or the Social services. It was nice, really nice. We didn't want to risk taking a shower together because it was a shared one in the hall between about ten rooms. He went first and I lay on the bed thinking. What were we going to do now? Get jobs. Go back to Ireland. Go to another city. I thought of Jonathan and his career and I cried because he'd given it all up. For me. I felt guilty because I wondered would I do the same if our positions were changed. It was a tiugh call but I thought I probably would. I couldn't describe the feelings I had for him in my own head. All I knew was that when he was in the room I felt so happy, and if he touched me my skin tingled in the spot he'd touched. And when he kissed me my head spun. He was beautiful. I loved him more than anything. This is what made my decision the right one.
After I'd showered I joined him in bed. Naked of course. His soft warm lips pressed against mine as he lay on top of me. His smooth skin rubbed against mine and I ran my hands along his back. I broke the kiss and looked at him with tears in my eyes.
"Jonathan", I said.
"I don't like the sound of this", he said eyeing me suspiciously.
"We can't keep this up Jonathan. Your career. I can't let you...", I cried, the tears flowing freely.
"Nicky don't", he said sternly, "We've been through this. I made my decision. I love you".
"And I love you", I wept, "This is why I have to say this. You mean so much to me. You gave me the strength I needed to carry on with life. you gave me hope, and you gave me love. I'm the happiest boy alive. I couldn't want for anything more. You saved me Jonathan. You've made me strong. But I feel guilty. I don't just want you to keep up your career for you. I need you to do it for me too. No matter how you try to justify it to me, I can't go through life knowing I wrecked yours".
"You didn't wreck anything", Jonathan said crying too.
"Let me finish, please", I begged him, "You have so much going for you. I know you love me, but your love has blinded you. You can't see what's best. You gave up everything for me, and now I have to give up everything for you. It's over Jonathan. I can't run anymore".
"But...I can't leave you Nicky, I won't...", he cried.
"Jonathan, don't make this any harder than it is. Look into your heart and you'll know it's right".
"The only thing in my heart is you Nicky, you know that, right?", he pleaded, "I can't do it. I won't go. Not without you".
"I love you Jonathan", I cried, "Make love to me one last time, because tomorrow, you're going home".
He looked shocked and his eyed were swollen with crying. I held his face in my hands tracing the outline with my finger. I kissed his lips gently and pulled him towards me, running my hand down his chest. He wasn't hard, probably because of the shock he'd just got. It broke my heart to do it, but I knew it was right. A couple of loving caresses from me and he was as hard as a rock and he stopped crying. He ran his hands down my back and onto my smooth ass, pulling me close to him as we locked in a passionate kiss. Our hard dicks pressed against eacother and we snuggled together enjoying the closeness. I curled his blonde hair around my finger and ran my hand along his neck. I loved his skin. It was so silky. I turned away from him, reaching onto the floor for the bag, pulling out the cream and handing it to him. he knew what I wanted. What I needed. He rubbed the cream into my tight ass with his finger pushing it in slowly. After he'd rubbed some over his hot dick he pushed slowly against me, sliding in easily. It was a perfect fit now and the pleasure soared through my body. We were both lying on our sides and he wraped his arms and legs aroung me, taking my dick in his hands. He made love to me slowly, sliding in and out of me, genlty kissing the back of my neck and stroking my hard dick. He pulled out until only the tip was left inside me and then he pushed the whole way back as far as he could. It wasn't animal passion or lust. It was love and it felt great. He stroked me slowly as he moved in and out of me. I gripped him tight with my ass and as his pleasure grew so too did the speed of his thrust and the rate at which he stoked my dick. I was sweating and so was he, but we didn't make a noise. Just a slight groan every now and then as he pounded my ass more furiously with every move. I could hold it no more and I came, shooting my hot boy juice all ver his hand, the muscles of my ass squeezing his hard dick at the same time. He came with a groan, his warm juice filling my insides. I started to cry silently so he wouldn't hear me.
"It's Ok Nicky", he comforted me turning me towards him and pulling me close.
"I know", I sobbed, "I love you. Let's not sleep. Let's just hold eachother. I'm scared to sleep".
I was shaking and my mind whirled. I didn't want to sleep because I knew that when I woke up it would be time to say goodbye. I wanted this moment to last forever. He was my prince, my god, my saviour, and after tomorrow the only place I would see him would be in my mind and the only time I would feel his touch would be in my heart. He started sobbing and I felt my heart break. Was I doing the right thing? Could I really give him up? I had to be strong, because tomorrow I had to let him go. It had gone on too long. We couldn't stay on the run forever. Could we?
Can they stay on the run forever? Is Nicky sure he's doing the right thing? Find out in Part 10 coming soon.
Sorry but that's the end of Part 9. Part 10 on the way. E-mail me with any comments. Flames will be ignored.
Nicky.
cool_nicky@hotmail.com
See this story on my site.