written by Stash
First of all: This is a story with homosexual and even homoerotic
content. If you don't like that, just stop
reading it and blah, blah, blah... you know that one, don't ya? All
characters, places and events are fictional.
HAVE FUN and please do feel free to send me your opinions,
comments, thoughts or even criticism to firstname.lastname@example.org
Act III - One Of Us
Three empty glasses and two
coffee pots vibrated on Caroline's tablet from the shaking of her
hands. Her eyes were still speaking the desperate language of fear and
concern. Focusing mine. Obviously searching my face for any kind of
reaction to her clichèe but nevertheless strange forecast.
"Awe, come ON, Caroline..." My reaction must have sounded almost as
dumb as it was unspectacular.
"What... I mean, I...." How on earth could she be so surprised about my
openly showing doubts? Had she really expected me to buy that stuff
about being 'embraced by death'. Oh PLEASE! That's the kind of material
B-movies and 3rd class crap novels are made of!
The Eagles' 'Hotel California' sounded through the café as
Caroline reached out for my right arm and grabbed it. Her breath
instantly started to slow down, and I felt a slight dizzle of
electricity flowing through my arm and quickly making my whole body
shiver from inside. Jesus, this chick was REALLY strange! And getting
stranger still by the second. She inhaled deeply - as if she was
smoking a cigarette - and closed her eyes for a short moment only. When
she opened them up again, all fear and confusion had gone. They were
replaced by the clear and confident look of a strong, tough woman, and
a glimpse of mystery shone from their deep warm green, instead. She cut
off the electrical contact by releasing my arm from her tight grip,
closed her eyes once again and started to move. There was an almost too
loud sound of breaking porcelain when the tablet hit the wooden ground,
and one of the cups fell to pieces, but she didn't care. Actually, she
seemed to be as far away from caring about the cup as she was from the
world around her. Her arms slowly and majestatically raised like wings
in a perfectly controlled motion that looked like the dance of a cat in
slow motion. Calm. Peaceful. Trance-like.
I was completely taken by surprise (and believe me, I'm not easily
surprised!). Like in a fever, her head glided back into her neck, her
arms slowly raised and lowered again as she turned around, and the
streaming light from the flooders beautifully reflected from the pink
gloss on her full and female lips.
"Oh... my... God..." My body gave a shake when Craig's hand touched my
shoulder from behind, but I didn't turn around to face him. I was too
fascinated by Caroline's weird behaviour.
'...some dance to remember, some dance to forget...' the Eagles
described it throughout the whole cafe, and I silently wondered
if Caroline would get back home to Kansas if only she clicked her heels
together three times. '...we haven't had that spirit here since 1969...'
"I told you, dude, she's fuckin' crazy!" Craig whispered.
"Either that, or she's..."
"... possessed?" he finished my sentence.
I nodded my head yes.
"Yeah, right. Possessed by Linda Blair, maybe. Does she spit, too?" He
giggled back and quickly added a breathless "Umph" sound when my elbow
hit his stomach.
We watched her dancing for several minutes, both of us fascinated by
the smoothness of her motions. '...anytime of year, you can find it
And then, somewhere half through the long guitar solo at the end of the
song, she stopped. Her head hung down as if she was sound asleep and it
took her some seconds and obviously more than just a little effort to
lift it with a long, deep sigh.
"So then, Scott." She looked me directly in the eyes. "How did you like
I was stunned. How could she know? Could she really? Was she able to...
'read me' or something like that? Not that I really believed it, but
the more I realized what had just happened, the more I disliked the
thought of someone - a total stranger - sneaking around inside my head.
There were memories. Dreams. And secrets. Secrets I didn't want to
share. Not with ANYbody.
My voice turned icy and sharp, and my eyes went blank as I stared right
"It wasn't mine." I answered her question, before I turned around and
left the café. The guitars faded out with the closing of the
door behind me, but I didn't really notice that anymore. Outside, cars
were rushing by in both directions of the street, and an almost naked
CK cover boy seductively gave me a knowing look from his poster on the
other side. Just be.
Half an hour's doze and a re-vitalizing bath later, I was slowly
beginning to feel myself, again. The familiar atmosphere of our
apartment made Caroline Cummings draw back into the farthest corners of
my mind until finally, after two of Craig's famous Mojitos, she was
hardly more than just the vague shadow of a faint memory.
Kevin and Mark had already left when we came home, and I couldn't
really say that I was sorry about it. I was totally drained out, deeply
inhaling the eucalyptus steam that calmly rose from out of the still
hot water I was lying in and already filled the whole bathroom with its
sweet and dazzling odour. Maurice Ravel's 'Bolero' perfected the
surreal atmosphere, and the shadows thrown at the walls by what must
have been almost three dozens of candles almost seemed to sway to the
sound of the slowly crescending strings. Now focus, Scott! Breathe
in... breathe out... and focus!
By the time Mark Andrews literally called himself back into my freshly
re-charged world, I was already dressed and styled again.
Craig's knowingly evil grin adoringly commented the concerned lines I
covered my face with as soon as I had picked up the phone, and when he
heard me say "Gee, sweetheart, I was SO worried about you!", his head
turned dark red from choking before he finally lost his self control,
spit a full load of his Mojito all over the living room table and fell
backwards onto the couch, holding his stomach with suppressed laughter.
Actually, me, I was grinning, myself. I knew I was good. But after all,
it never hurt to see it being appreciated...
"... and then he yelled at me and went all crazy, and... and..." His
heavy breathing and slightly high pitched voice could not hide that
Mark was still more that just a little upset about his encounter with
his ex, and I could not help but get suspicious by the desperate
on-edge-tremble to the sound of his words. Was there something more to
what had happened while Craig and me had been celebrating freak hour at
"Caroline's Motel"? Something he did not tell me?
"What did he do to you?" My voice was icy and cold from both
tremenduous triumph and breathless excitement.
And he told me something I couldn't possibly have guessed...
I raised my head and my eyes connected to the soft red of the setting
sun. The horizon seemed to be hardly more than a thin and fragile line
somewhere far away above the rooftops of the city. There was no doubt
that this was going to be an extremely hot day, and the rain the
weather forecast had promised for tonight would have lots of heated
tempers and even more broken hearts to cool down.
One of the clear advantages of living in a big city was that there
really was plenty of everything. If you walked your world with open
eyes, you always had the chance to witness personal tragedies and
emotional nightmares wherever you turned. With the palm of my right
hand, I wiped some sweat from off my forehead, leaned back on the park
bench I was sitting on and focused the people around me.
The first thing I saw was a couple in their mid-twenties. They stood
about 5 meters away from me, leaning agains one of the trees the park
was covered with. She hid her face in her hands although the sobbing
sounds from underneath made it clear that she was crying. "It's not
that I don't love you anymore..." I heard him say with a voice so soft
and caring that she instantly doubled her crying volume.
Now, THAT was what it was really like! All those couples with their
attentiveness, their feelings, their "love"... in the end, they were
all condemned. Condemned to break up someday, to feel unspeakably hurt
and, what's worst about all this, to stand before someone they always
thought they could never live without and deeply hurt them.
I closed my eyes again and lay my head back to absorb the feeling of
the warm autumn sun on my skin. Images formed before me as soon as I
took the first breath. Images of Kevin Sanders, who stood before me and
shily unbuttonened his shirt, his eyes never even leaving mine for a
second. His sweet but nevertheless wicked smile re-lit a bonfire of
excitement in my memories, and the bright sparkle of his eyes gave my
whole body a warm and intense shiver that no one else had ever made me
feel in my whole life.
I heard his voice the moment I imagined him stripping off his khakis,
and when my eyes flew open with surprise, I realized him standing right
"Now, look who's here!" He looked down on me with an expression stern
and icy enough to scare away a newborn baby.
"Well, yeah..." I replied, wearing a bright, winning smile to match my
mean and sarcastic undertone. "Look who had a bad day, today!"
"Cut it, Scott!" he snapped - obviously one of his favourite sentences,
recently. "It's not funny, anymore, you know..."
"Fucking right, it's not!" I shot back at him.
"You know what... You're sick, man... Really sick..."
"Yeah, right, I'm sick..." I couldn't help but laugh out at his
accusation. "Like it was me who raped his ex-'boyfriend' this
Gotcha! That shocked spark in his frozen face gave away that he had not
expected me to know about his little 'blackout' after Craig and I had
left the apartment to him and Mark.
I gave a long sigh and leaned back on the park bench to bathe in the
victory that my cool but evil grin projected to the outside.
"Face it, Kev... I might have initiated all this... But it was still
YOU who finally blew it all on your own..." My words cut sharp. After
all, they were carefully aimed and fired, and not only the slight
traces of sweat on his face showed me how easily I had pushed him to
the edge. Just a tiny step further, and he'd completely lose it. Just
ONE more step.
It was my game. My rules. And right now, he finally began to realize
that he didn't stand a chance against me. Insecure like a cornered
rabbit, he shifted his weight from his left leg to the right one,
obviously more than just a little uncomfortable with the satisfied
smile with which I slowly eyed him up and down. I felt my cock
stiffening in my pants from the sure pleasure of seeing him squirm
before me, and my whole body almost physically urged me to finish him
with the last blow.
'Time to strike, now!' I though. I felt my smile getting even wider...
Every muscle I had clenched with anticipation... In slow motion, I saw
Kevin take a surprised step backwards as I rose up to my feet and
started to slowly circle him.
My mouth opened...
... and I began to sing.
"One of us is crying..." I started. "One of us is lying... in his
And, of course, it worked! The first suppressed sobs escaped his mouth
when I got to the "One of us is shaking, feel my heart is breaking"-
part. His face was pale and motionless as if it was carved in stone.
The only sign of life was the nervous fluttering of his eyelids and the
wild but somehow numb dance of his pupils.
"... sorry for himself, feeling stupid, feeling small..." I sang on,
determinedly preserving the volume of a lullaby with all the intention
and power of a bloodthirsty siren.
"Why are you doing this to me?" It took him all his strength to talk in
an (at least vaguely) audible voice, but he couldn't help his whole
body shivering with both humiliation and helplessnes. My very special
thanks silently went to Mr. Grant, one of my teachers in High School,
whose Drama class had been the first occasion to show me how humiliated
and vulnerable you feel when you're being circled.
"Why, Scott...?" he repeated, a little less confident and a little more
desperate than before.
I stood before him, now, my eyes focusing his for merely a second
before he broke out of my stare to blush and closely inspect the tips
of his shoes. Slowly, my hand reached out for his chin and
carefully lifted his head until we were eye to eye, again.
"Because I can." I answered his question in a voice that was sweet
enough to glacier a birthday cake. "I'm doing it because I can, and
because YOU made me do it, Kevin!"...
... and I continued in my singing voice, again: "... that's why I
started the show, one of us had to go. Now it's different, I want you
While I was singing, my hand left his chin and let it fall down to
watch the floor, again. Actually, I don't think that he saw too much
there... not with that now openly flowing stream of tears before his
eyes, anyway. Slowly, I turned to leave - still singing along, of
"... one of us is crying, one of us is lying in his lonely bed..."
I took a few steps away from him (in a most casual and triumphant way!)
before I turned around once more.
"Oh, and Kevin.." I called over as if I was a good friend greeting him
from two steps afar. His head helplessly spun in my direction.
Obviously, he was no longer trying so suppress neither his tears, nor
his heavy sobs... oh, well...
"What...?" he somehow managed to ask back.
"Look at you..." I answered, wearing one of my brightest and openly
teasing grins. "All depressed and crying and stuff..."
He gave of one his deeper sobs as an answer, but I continued, anyway.
"This is a public park, Kevin. Show a little... class!"
Casually, I turned around and started walking away from him.
"... never left at aaaaaall..." I continued singing what I'd call this
scenes' theme song, my voice low, again, but plainly audible.
My work here was done for today, but Kevin and I both knew that all
this had only been foreplay to the main attraction. Unfortunately, his
clear disadvantage was that he didn't know the time and place for the
next act. He'd simply have to let himself be suprised. And I'd fucking
surprise him, alright...
"Wow..." Craig said admiringly, his head cocked to one side and he
temporarily forgot about the not yet rolled joint in his hand. "Gee,
Scotty, you gotta get a portable camcorder or something like that...
I'd have loved to see Kevin's face, man..."
"Yeah, bet you would." I grinned back at him. "But, speaking of
seeing... I didn't know that you're into weed, man..."
I pointed to the joint in his fingers, but he didn't seen to take
notice of me anymore. Carefully, he licked one end of the paper and
finished his job.
"Oh, I'm not." He stated. "You should know THAT much about me, Scotty,
He held up the joint, grinning like an advertisement salesman.
I couldn't help but grin, myself. "What are you gonna do with that
"Loosen up your brother." He answered, cocking one eyebrow.
"Don't tell me he..."
"... called, again. Yupp, damn right, he did. You know, Scotty, I'm
sick of his attitude. He calls every day, now, and since you chose to
just ignore him, I'm always the one to talk to him."
"I'm sorry." I answered. But honestly, I was far more interested in
what Craig had in mind for Joey. "So, what's the plan?"
"He's into weed, right?" he asked.
"Correct." I nodded my head yes.
"And he's straight like me, right?"
"Right... As far as I know, anyway."
"See... that's what makes it simple. Listen: the weed gets to his head,
we slip a cute little pill into his beer... and when he's passed out,
we only have to strip him and take some good pictures."
"Okay... so far, so good." I nodded my head in agreement. "And I
suppose we're gonna use those pix to..."
"... shut him up." He finished my sentence, again. "I'm sure that he
won't bug us again, after tonight... unless he's eager to start a new
career as a Twink- Of- The- Month centerfold, of course..."
My Cruel- Intentions- grin shot onto my face again, showing Craig the
appreciation he quite obviously expected. I didn't really know why, but
I had to admit that I was surprised to hear such a perfect (and, of
course, evil) plan from him. Most of the time, he simply stuck to the
kind of small intrigues that didn't hurt anyone, nor required too much
preparation. Obviously, he had learned quite a lot from all those
scenes he had assisted me at in the last few years.
"When's Joey coming over?" I asked him.
He took a quick glance at his watch.
"At 8." He answered. "So we have about half an hour to prepare
"Prepare... what, exactly?"
"For instance, what YOU're gonna tell him, Scotty..."
Questioningly, I raised my left eyebrow. "And THAT could mean...?"
"Quite simple." Craig grinned back. "I told him to come over cause you
wanted to talk and apologize."
"You... WHAT?!?" I couldn't believe what I had just heard.
"Of course I did." He simply stated. "I had to get him to come, didn't
"Well, yeah... guess you did..."
My mind was working extra time, now. Originally, I had planned to fill
in Craig on my last big plan for Kevin Sanders, but, hey... that could
wait until tomorrow morning. It was more important to talk to Pete,
"Just a sec, dude. I gotta make a call before we get to the details."
"Pete." I answered, fumbling my cell from out of my pocket.
"Ah..." His renewed grin told me that he obviously liked the idea. "So,
it's time for Mr. I-fucked-Mark-cause-I'm-head-over-heals-with-Scott,
"Oh, please, Craig... don't call him that." I threw him one of my
favourite disapproving fake- smiles. "He's the Downfall's Saturday
Night DJ, and I definitely need him till I'm finished with Kevin
My grin widened because I perfectly knew that Craig was dying to hear
the details, but both of us also knew that his curiosity wasn't to be
satisfied before the next morning.
Nonchalantly, I picked the right number from my cell's phone register
and let it dial. I did not have to wait for long because I heard Pete's
young and naive voice right after the second tone.
"Hey, Scott..." Obviously, he had recognized my number on the display.
"Gee, I've been hoping you'd call me again..."
"But, of course, Sweety, I told you I would... didn't I?" I almost
whistled in a tone that Dawson would have been proud of. "Now,
I told him as much as he needed to know, and he greedily absorbed every
single word of it. He was going to play along without hesitation, and
my promise of a nice little fuck after his shift at the turntables
ensured that he wouldn't change his mind. Like he'd do that...!
I still thought about Kevin Sanders and the great show that I was
planning for him. His little emotional outbreak this afternoon had
definitely turned me on already, but the mere thought of Saturday night
made my internals vibrate with excitement and passion, and I felt my
heartbeat racing like that of the literal "fox on the run". It was
gonna be just perfect...
I booted my PC and opened the mp3 folder. A quick glance at my watch
told me that I still had 10 more minutes until my dear little brother
would arrive (his usual 15 minutes delay not included, of course). That
should make enough time to burn a special CD for this little family
reunion. After all, Joey was meant to get into some sort of brotherly
mood and so, the right soundtrack for the occasion was definitely
necessary. Pink's "Family Portrait", "He ain't heavy, he's my brother"
and even the "7th Heaven" theme song... It would be just perfect!
Corny, maybe... but definitely perfect!
I clicked the "BurnNow" button and allowed my mind to wander back to
Caroline Cummings while the read buffer filled up to 97%. I couldn't
say why, but somehow, I still got the creeps when I thought about that
"strange encounter of the weird kind". But then, maybe it was just me.
After all, she had pretty much taken me by surprise. I wasn't used to
someone else taking the lead... and me by surprise, of course. And,
once again, I knew pretty well where that came from - I was definitely
not comfortable with it!
After all, that was one of the reasons why I didn't really like my own
birthday - people I didn't care about, throwing some lame-ass surprise
party with the clear intention of getting a better one on THEIR
birthday. It was just pathetic!
Now, don't get me wrong, here... I just LOVE birthday parties. Parties
in general, actually. After all, everyone who ever saw one single
episode of "Dynasty" or "Melrose Place" knows that a good party is
always the place for the best scenes to take place. And, what's best,
it could never be wrong to let the notorious "final curtain" fall at a
crowded feast, with everyone around looking. This way, you could easily
maximize the humiliation of the protagonists involved. Like, for
instance, what I like to call my "Prom Night Production". I dated that
girl back then (hey, I'm talking HIGH SCHOOL, here... I was testing!).
She had every reason to look forward to be elected Prom Queen, mostly
because everybody thought that she was really sweet with her long blond
hair, her cocksucker lips and those big tits. Her big mistake was that
she had always tried to persuade and later even blackmail me into
fucking her last 2 brain cells out. She could be REALLY bitchy when
that subject came up! So, when Andy "Short Dick" Richards (a dumb but
cute football jock with whom I'd had some intimate jack off parties in
the boys' locker room back then) told me how the whole football team
was freaking hot for my "girlfriend", the idea of making her pass out
from drugs and alcohol and then "lending" her to them wasn't really
THAT far fetched. Those stupid jock boys gladly agreed to video tape it
and hand me a copy, afterwards. Gee, it was SO sweet to watch her
"mass penetration" on the big screen on Prom Night, half an hour before
the results of the Prom Queen and King election were announced. Guess
who got herself a last minute disqualification...
Suddenly, I heard both my PC's completion message and the ringing of
the doorbell, but I couldn't really say which of the two had taken me
out of my thoughts.
"You ready, Scotty?" Craig asked me halfway through the living room.
I nodded and stood up to put the new CD into the stereo.
"Rock'n'Roll, little brother!" I whispered to myself as I heard Joey's
voice from out of the hall.
... to be continued
Well then, this was the
3rd act of
"Wicked Ways"... but the fun hasn't
even started, yet....
I'm planning to post a new chapter every month (partly depending on
that is ::grins::), so look out for "Act IV", and: Don't
hesitate to send your
comments and questions to email@example.com.
I'll gladly answer every
unless you tell me not to. ;-)