Date: Thu, 24 Jul 2003 18:58:09 -0700 (PDT)
From: D.Z. <ndman72@yahoo.com>
Subject: Chapter 20 of Boys in School

DAVID & TRISTAN-BOYS IN SCHOOL is a continuation of the story, Boys on the Farm,
about two teen boys named David and Tristan. It is a story of discovery...what
the boys learn about life, about themselves, and what it means to be gay. If sex
between male teenagers is offensive to you or if you are underage then you
should move on to something else.

DAVID & TRISTAN--BOYS IN SCHOOL is a work of pure fiction -- the characters and
the events do not represent any person or situation. Copyright (c)2003 by D.Z.,
all rights reserved. You may contact me by emailing ndman72@yahoo.com.

PREFACE:

Before I share with you another email from a new fan of the David and Tristan
story, I thought I would give you an update on the real life story of Luke.  Do
you remember Luke, the guy who was straight and then found out his best friend,
Adam, was gay?   And do you also remember how Luke got over his shock and that
eventually they became boyfriends only for Adam to be tragically killed by a
drunk driver?  Well it's been nearly 18 months since that has happened and I am
so very happy to tell you that Luke has found himself another guy to love.  Yup,
and amazingly so, the guy was living right down the street for many years.  So
you see, you never know when the first or second love of your life will make
himself known and become an integral part of your existence.  But remember, love
is like the proverbial brass ring inasmuch you have to reach out and grab it
when that opportunity comes by.

Here's the email now from a young guy who has yet to find the love he yearns to
have.  I think he expresses himself quite well and he wrote something that tells
me that all of the time and effort that I have put into writing this story is
worthwhile.  He said it this way:

"Hello DZ,

Yesterday I found a link to a story titled "Boys on the Farm 1", it was a short
story that promised both the...well erotic...and story aspect that most other
comparative stories out there simply do not have. Thoroughly engrossed in the
first episode, I quickly linked my way to the Yahoo Group "David n Tristan" and
read everything I could get my hands on. It took me several hours, but I
finished with "Boys in School 19" and found myself eagerly awaiting more.

I could not believe what I had just read. As a 17 year old male, who is
umm..."in the closet" about his bisexual preferences, I was blown away by how
much I connected with each of your characters, David, Tristan, Sean and Drew
most of all.

In David, it was his family situation that had me almost crying...I feel almost
the same way about my family. While is not quite as religious...Thank God...my
father is openly very anti-gay. Tristan attracted me with his personality and
open attitude...he would be the ideal...I hesitate to use the word...boyfriend.
I identify with Sean easily, or with him before he found his guy. I knew exactly
how he felt about wanting someone. And in Drew..I see some of my own passion and
compassion.

I must commend you and how much care and how much of yourself you must put into
these characters to make such a profound effect on me. I pride myself on being a
accomplished...as silly as it sounds...reader. I read avidly and in many genres
but I have never felt such a connection.

I do not know truly why I am writing and spilling my most personal emotions and
situations to you...but that I have read your prefaces and the others who write
to you, and I wanted to do the same. Because I trust...hope...that you are open
to such mail I will send it...even though I contemplating deleting all evidence
of these keystrokes.

I have never had a boyfriend...one girlfriend...and my sexual experiences are
limited indeed. However I know that would like to have a relationship with
another boy before I reach legal adulthood, I doubt that that is a likely
outcome...in my school there are only 30 or so boys within 1-3 years of my age.
I do not want to be impatient, but I am worried. I want a relationship similar
to something David and Tristan found with all my heart, but I don't even know
where to begin.

How to tell my parents is another question I will have to deal with
sometime...sometime, sooner or later. They love me--for now--and deserve to know
but I don't even where to start there either.

I suppose I am like many thousands...if not millions, of other boys my age and
searching for answers that may eventually come. You have answered..perhaps
inadvertently, many of my questions already, for which I am in your debt, can
you offer any more advice...?

Please continue writing...it has changed the way I think about myself and
others. I look forward to part 20. And your quality of writing is superb...I
might add.

Thank you so much....

Regards, Zogg"

It's me, Derek, talking again.  Emails like these are what keep me going.  I
feel so privileged to have met people from all over the globe through my story.
It has taught me that the gay experience is virtually the same worldwide over no
matter what race, what country, what language, or what religion we come from.  I
hope that the story of David and Tristan continues to make a difference for
whoever finds it.

I know many of you have been itching to find out what happens next in the story
so without further delay here is chapter 20.


CHAPTER 20.  LOVE HAS ITS PRICE.

The strapping, well-muscled youth was sprawled in the chair next to the hospital
bed.  An arm was stretched out so that his brown hand rested upon the shoulder
of the bed's occupant.  The deep breathing of the youth in the chair was clear
evidence of the physical exhaustion that overtook him near dawn.

On the other side of the bed was a middle-aged woman in a padded chair, her head
resting against the cold metal bars of the bed rail.  She looked worn and
strained, even in her uncomfortable slumber.

Consequently neither of the extremely concerned visitors in the hospital room
was awake to observe the fluttering of Anthony's eyelids that began as the
dawn's early light outlined the horizon.  A soft moan escaped the lips of the
smaller boy as his leg spasmed under the bedcovers.  After a period of stillness
the eye fluttering began again only this time a pair of bewildered eyes
appeared.  They darted around the room as he took in his surroundings.
"Mmmmph," was his first attempt at speaking as his arm with the i.v. tube
attached moved slowly.  Wetting his dry lips with a tongue that felt like it was
packed in cotton, Anthony tried again.  "Mom," he croaked from his parched
throat.

The worn out woman didn't respond--she remained slumped against the bed.

Anthony attempted to roll towards her with an outstretched hand but something
had his shoulder pinned.  Not only that, but he hurt all over.  His head hurt,
his legs and buttocks hurt, but worst of all was the fiery ache in his stomach.
Even the simple act of breathing was causing him to have bursts of searing pain
in his ribcage if he breathed too deeply.  With a groan he settled back into the
bed.

The youth in the chair felt the motion and also heard the groan.  In a flash he
was standing and bent over the form in the bed. "Hey buddy," he said with a
catch in his voice.

A grimace that might have been smile or a twinge of pain fleeted across his face
as Anthony rasped out, "Hey Drew, I need a drink really bad."

The sound of their voices roused the woman.  She clambered stiffly to her feet
and cupped the boy's face with her palm.  "Hi Sweetheart.  How are you feeling?"

Anthony waved his hand in negation and then held it up for the water Drew was
holding.  A grunt of pain forced its way out when he attempted to sit up enough
to drink.  Gently, Drew supported his head with one hand and helped him steady
his trembling hand so he could drink.  Thirstily he drained the small glass of
water before he laid back again.

"Is that enough?" Drew asked.

"For right now, yeah," came the answer.

"Anthony, tell Momma how you feel."  His mother was treating him like a little
boy again which wasn't so bad if only Drew wasn't standing right there.

"I dunno.  I kinda feel like I've been run over by a truck.  What happened to
me?  Why am I in the hospital?" he asked groggily with a worried and confused
look on his face.

"Oh my God, you mean you don't remember what happened?" Drew's mouth gaped open
in astonished dismay.

"Nuh uh.  Was it bad?" the boy asked with widened eyes.

"Well, kinda..." Drew started to say when a nurse appeared within the ICU
cubicle they occupied.

"So our young man is awake.  Good.  Now can you tell me your name?" in a voice
that was friendly yet very professional as she peered at Anthony.

"Anthony Miller, but they woulda told you already," Anthony frowned as he
replied.

"Well, maybe that's right but I'm just checking," the nurse said.  "And how old
are you?" she continued brightly.

"Fifteen, my birthday was on March twenty-seventh.  My mom can tell you anything
else you wanna know," boy said still groggy from his concussion and drugs.  "I
want to talk with my boyfriend here."

The nurse quickly glanced over at Drew and then Mrs. Miller before turning her
attention back to her patient.  "One more question is all I have and then I'll
just be checking your blood pressure.  How many fingers am I holding up?" she
asked as she flashed two fingers in front of him.

With an effort he focused on her hand.  "Two."

"Very good, Anthony.  A quick check of the blood pressure and then I'll phone
the doctor who is looking after you."  She efficiently went about her business
in the dead silence that ensued.  "OK Anthony, I'm finished so you are free to
talk with your boyfriend now.  The doctor will be here to check on you soon."
The nurse left after a brief and tightlipped smile for him and a glare at his
mother.

Mrs. Miller leaned over her son saying, "I'll be right back, Sweetheart, OK?"

The boy tiredly nodded his assent and she hastened after the nurse.   Anthony
looked over at Drew who was looking over at him from under lowered brows and
flushed cheekbones.   "I'm so tired, Drew, but I'm glad you're here."

Drew nodded his assent and found Anthony's hand with his own before his voice
would work.  "I sure am too, Little Man.  Don't you worry, I'll stay, no matter
what."

"Good," the boy sighed and his eyes drooped closed again.

"What about my son?" Mrs. Miller asked the other woman as she leaned over the
counter at the ICU nurse's station.

"That's something the doctor should tell you," the nurse replied coolly.  "But
since he's awake and talking that is always a good sign," she added before
making direct eye contact.  "Isn't your son a bit too young for you to be
letting him be gay?" she asked waspishly.  "I have half a mind to be calling
CPS."

"CPS?" Mrs. Miller asked with a puzzled frown.

"Yes, CPS.  Child Protective Services."

"Listen to me, you starched excuse for a nurse," Mrs. Miller hissed in total
fury.  "There is no mother who takes better care of her son than I do.  And if
you understood even a small fraction of what it means to be gay and the
difference that other boy has made for my son's life and happiness, you wouldn't
be saying this.   You keep your nose out things that don't concern you, do you
hear me?"

Affronted, the nurse reared back.  "Well, I never..."

"Exactly.  You never thought about what my son puts up with because he's
different.  Well, he knows and I know.  We moved here to get away from a school
that tolerated bullying of my son.  And now he's been nearly killed at another.
Is there any excuse on God's green earth for this?  Is there?" the infuriated
and red-faced mother demanded, her voice rising in pitch and volume as her fury
grew.

"Mrs. Miller, you must either calm down or I'll have to have you removed from
ICU," the nurse blustered when faced with the angrily shaking mother.

"You just make sure my son gets better and let me worry about his relationships.
So if you haven't called the doctor I suggest you do so now...or do I need to
report you for negligence?" Grace waited until the nurse picked up her phone
before turning on her heel to return to her son.

As she strode angrily back to Anthony's cubicle in ICU, she was intercepted by a
young nurse's aide.  "Mrs. Miller?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes, that's me," the still fuming and disheveled woman answered curtly.  "What
is it?"

"There's a policeman outside asking for you."

"Oh, OK.  Thank you.  I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"That's OK Mrs. Miller, I understand," the young woman graciously answered.
"He's waiting outside ICU for you or a guy named Dalton Andrews the third."

"Dalton Andrews?" she asked tiredly.  "Oh, he must mean Drew.  Well, I'll see
the officer first.  Thank you again," she said and then attempted a wan smile
before striding through the double doors of ICU.

The handsome officer stood up as she entered.  "Morning Mrs. Miller.  How is
Anthony doing?" he asked with an obviously sincere concern.

"He woke up not very long ago and he's groggy but he's talked some.  They will
be running tests on him this morning and then we'll know more about how he is,"
she answered as she dabbed at her leaking eyes.  Then she looked directly at him
to ask as she peered up into his face, noticing his compassionate brown eyes.
"Have you learned anything about who attacked my son?"

He shook his head, "No ma'am, I'm sorry to say that I haven't.  I was on patrol
all night but have enlisted the help of a detective in this case and you can be
sure that he will be following up on it today.  You have my word, Mrs. Miller,
we won't drop the ball on this one.  This is a hate crime and I don't forget
about those, ever."

"That's good to hear because whoever did it deserves to be locked up for a long
time," she spat angrily.  Catching herself she attempted to regain her
composure.  She looked down and ran her fingers wearily through her hair before
looking back up to say, "Excuse me, but I don't think I know your name and I'd
very much like to know it."

"I'm Sergeant Dallas Jensen, Mrs. Miller.  And I'd very much like to know if
Anthony can tell us anything about who attacked him.  Has he said anything yet
in that regard?"

Her eyes brimmed with tears once more before she dropped her head and answered,
"He doesn't remember anything about it.  We have avoided telling him why he's
here so far."

"Excellent," the officer said.

Grace's head jerked up.  "Whatever do you mean?" she asked with astonishment.

"I'm sorry to have surprised you with this, Mrs. Miller, but it means we want to
know what he remembers himself rather than what he has been told.  So the less
you tell him before we get to interview him the smaller chance we have of
implanted memories," he explained gently.

"Oh, I see," she said in a subdued voice.  "We'll try not to do that then."

"Thank you.  That's all I need for now, Mrs. Miller. If Anthony remembers
anything at all, please call the police department and tell them you have
information on the Anthony Miller case.  Either I or Detective Eckard will
contact you as soon as possible to arrange for an interview with Anthony."

"Yes, I'll do that.  I hope you can find whoever did this Sergeant Jensen and I
hope they pay for what they did to my son," the troubled mother asserted in her
desire for justice on Anthony's behalf.

"So do I and we'll try very hard to do so," the officer assured her.  "Now, if
Drew Andrews is still here, could I speak with him?"

"Yes, he's here.  I'll send him out.  Thank you Sergeant Jensen, I'll let you
know if Anthony remembers anything."  She stood there for a second longer as if
she was memorizing his face and then turned away to duck back into ICU.

Moments later Drew came out.  "You wanted to see me?" the youth asked warily.

"Yes, I did," the man replied calmly. "Are you ready to go home yet?" he asked.

"Why, did my parents call you again?" came the response as slightly slouched
teen glanced at the policeman suspiciously.

"No, they didn't as far as I know.  Remember, I said I would stop back after my
shift was over.  Since you won't let me take you home I need a minute of your
time to talk about Anthony.  His mother said he's awake but doesn't remember
anything about the attack.  Is that correct?"

Drew sighed and then spoke.  "Yeah, that's right.  And he's sleeping again now
so we didn't get to talk about it any."

"That's what I understand, and that's good."

"How is that good?" Drew rumbled warily, his anger at what happened to Anthony
making his temper smolder anew.

The officer explained patiently.  "It's good because we want to interview him
about what he remembers and not what you've told him."

Drew's stance relaxed then and his startling blue eyes gazed back intently.
"He's gonna want to know what happened to him Officer Jenson, I mean Sergeant
Jenson.  What do you think we should tell him when he asks why he's in the
hospital?"

The man reached out and laid a hand on the teen's shoulder.  "I didn't say you
couldn't tell Anthony that he was attacked and beaten or what his injuries are.
But that's all you should tell him.  Don't be telling him about any of your
guesses or assumptions.  We want Anthony to tell us what he remembers, not what
you suspect, OK sport?"

Drew's chin raised and their eyes met.  "OK, if it'll help with the
investigation so you can find the punks who did it, then I can keep my
assumptions to myself," Drew grudgingly agreed.

"That's what I needed to hear.  Thanks.  Now don't be worrying your folks too
much and if there is anything that you think will help this investigation, you
be sure to call the police department and leave a message for me."

"Yeah, I sure will.  Is that it then?"

"Yes, I think so."  The man looked steadily at the intrepid youth.  "Trust me,
Drew, I'm doing everything I can to find who attacked Anthony."

Drew nodded his head affirmatively and then shifted anxiously before saying,
"OK, I gotta get back to him."

Slapping the boy gently on the shoulder Sergeant Jenson said softly, "Hey, I
understand.  Go ahead and be with him.  I'm offshift now and need to go get some
shuteye myself.  Take care."

"Yeah, bye."  With one last quizzical glance at the officer, Drew slipped back
into ICU to be with the boy who had stolen his heart.

******************

As far as David and Tristan were concerned they couldn't get out of the
lunchroom fast enough that Friday.  Everyone in the entire school had been
speculating all morning what had happened to Anthony and of course, asked them
what they knew about it.  And invariably, after they related how badly Anthony
had been hurt, the person who was asking about him would conclude by saying
something to the effect that if he wasn't gay he wouldn't have been attacked.
And the truth was that they missed having Anthony's bubbly laugh and Drew's
strong presence in school.  For them there was a pall of worry, sorrow, and
apprehension over the fate of the gymnast who was always there to pump up
everyone's spirits.  But today he wasn't there and was instead lying in the
hospital, his condition unknown to them.

Both of them ate quietly, not participating in the buzz of conversation that
echoed throughout the lunchroom.  Quickly they finished the mass of meat and
carbohydrates that they were served and left together as had become their habit-
-their so-called nooner, as Tristan named it one day with a leer and a laugh.
Right now it wasn't so funny since it was the only time of the day they had some
private time to themselves since David had been grounded.

They headed for the boy's restroom in the remote corner of the school that they
claimed as their refuge for some quality time during the school day.  And lately
it had become customary for them to share the last stall to take care of some
necessary business.  The first order of business usually was to relieve their
bladders together and then do whatever else came about naturally.  Today was no
exception.

"Slide over Davie, I gotta take a leak too," Tristan told his boyfriend as he
stood behind, his dick out and ready.  David slid over and soon there were two
streams jetting into the water and creating a froth.  And since they hadn't been
together for any length of time recently, Tristan was in the mood for more that
just standing together.  He slipped his right hand down the back of David's
unbuckled pants and fingered the nicely curved buttock he found within.

"Don't Tris," David said as he slipped his uncut dick back in his pants.  "We
gotta talk so there's no time for fooling around."

"Who's fooling around? I'm serious here," Tristan grinned over at the blonde boy
and ran his middle finger down David's crack.

"Stop that now!" David demanded.  "Not here for God's sake!" as he twisted
around to face his boyfriend.  "I said we had to talk," he repeated.

Reluctantly Tristan removed his hand from inside David's pants and wrapped it
around his boyfriend's waist.  "What do we have to talk about, Davie?" he asked
with a worried look on his face.

David knew that look.  "Now don't be getting all worried on me, Tris.  It's just
that tonight is our first play-off game and we won't be having Drew on the team
since he skipped school today.  I need you to be out there to catch some passes
tonight."

"Oh, THAT.  It is a game day, isn't it?" Tristan grimaced.  On game days David's
mind was on football and little else.   "Here I thought you might have been
worried about Anthony or maybe missing me," he said wryly as he tucked his ample
cock back into his pants.  He knew that there was no chance for any sex play
now.

"You know my answer is yes to both of those, Tris, but they can wait.  The game
is tonight and I need you to be concentrating on looking for openings and
receiving the passes that come to you."

"Yeah, OK, I can probably give that some thought, Davie.  But I need something
else first, YOU!" Tristan whispered in David's ear and then licked it
provocatively.  There was something about David's ears that turned Tristan on
and the double benefit was that it was an erogenous zone for David as well.

David laughed in spite of his attempt to be serious with Tristan. "Tris-dude,
you sure know how to change the subject," and then tilted his head over and up
for the kiss Tristan wanted.  Their lips met tenderly at first, trading intimate
hellos before they melted together into a fervent kiss that expressed their need
for each other.

"Mmmmmm, I love those kisses you give, Davie," Tristan all but purred deep in
his chest.

"Me too," David sighed.  "I can't stand being locked up at home like this Tris.
It's like I'm in jail and my dad is the warden.  My folks are coming to the game
tonight.  They hardly ever have come before and I know they're doing it just so
we can't be together."

"Oh maaaaaaan," Tristan whined, looking into David's blue eyes.  "And here I was
going to walk you home tonight so we could be together just a little."

"I know sweet stuff, but there isn't much I can do about it right now.  You just
gotta hang in there with me, OK Tris?" David said as he pulled Tristan's head
close to him and rubbed his neck.  They stood there like that, just holding each
other and trading small kisses as they took the only chance they had to hold
each other until Monday rolled around.  All too soon the warning bell rang for
class and they had to leave, but not without getting one more kiss to tide them
over until next time.

"Love you, Davie," Tristan murmured as their lips parted.

"Love you too, Tris."

******************

After sitting in the hospital with Anthony for nearly 24 hours it felt good to
be able to move again. Drew strode at a rapid pace with his arms swinging on his
way home through the lingering warmth of the fall afternoon.  He was in the town
he knew like the back of his hand but now it seemed different. He shivered
involuntarily, whether it was from a stray draft of cool air or from the
prickling sensation between his shoulder blades, he couldn't be sure.  Never
before had he ever felt unsafe at any time of the day or night in the town he
was born and raised, but today, yes today was different.

He found himself much more aware of the people around him since he learned that
the boy who stole his heart had been attacked from behind.  Drew noticed for the
first time the places around the alleys that someone could hide behind trash
bins and blind corners.  "Just let some asshole try to jump me," Drew vowed
silently to himself.  "I'll kick his ass from here to Sunday."  His anger at the
chicken-shit bastard who attacked Anthony was begging to be unleashed on anyone
who provoked him and those few people who met the scowling teenager stayed well
clear of him.

Finally he reached his home, hungry for the safety and comfort he always found
there as well as his mother's home cooking.  "I'm home," he announced as he
entered within and took off his size 13 shoes, placing them off to the side.
His mother always complained that his shoes were more like obstacles when he
left them lying in the middle of the floor.

His mom appeared out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel.  "I
should have known you would be home for supper," she said, "and now you can be
explaining to your father and I why it was so important for you to be with your
friend Anthony in the hospital for this much time.  We were just talking about
coming to get you from the hospital after supper if you didn't come home on your
own.  Besides, I've made excuses for you all day today with the principal's
office and your football coach without really knowing what to tell them," came
out in a flurry of words, which was a definite sign that she was agitated over
it.

Drew could only stand there with his mouth opening and closing as his mother put
him on notice that he had explaining to do.   "What could he say to her?  How
much of the truth dare he tell?" he thought and finally opted for safe
territory.  "What's for supper, Mom?"

"Boys!" She exclaimed in mock disgust.  "I never knew that having a teenaged boy
would mean feeding a walking stomach.  Gone all night and all day and the first
thing he wants to know is what's for supper.  We're having Pigs in the Blankets
so go on and washed up, your father will be home soon," and she flapped the dish
towel at him to shoo him on his way.

"Sheeee-it" he cussed to himself as he went into the bathroom and fished his
cock up out of his boxer briefs to take a leak.  "What do I tell the folks now?"
he worried to himself all the while his stream thundered into the bowl.  Shaking
off the remaining drops gently, he then tucked it back inside and washed his
hands, still trying to come up with a plausible explanation that would satisfy
his folks.  As he walked into the kitchen to join his younger brother, Matthew,
at the table, his dad came through the back door.

"Well, our lost lamb found his way home in time for supper, I see," Devlin "Dev"
Andrews remarked dryly as he confronted his son from across the kitchen.  "You
had us plenty worried last night there, Buckshot.  And then, we get told by the
police that you all is sitting in the hospital.  You scared your momma and me
pretty bad with that piece of news."

"Dad, I'm sorry.  I just forgot to call is all.  I'm not hurt but Anthony, the
kid that was over here, he was busted up real bad.  I couldn't leave him, Pops,"
Drew said with his hands jammed way down in his pockets while staring defiantly
as his dad.

His mom, Amanda, broke the developing tension.  "Shush you two and sit down.
You can tell us what happened while we eat because everything is ready," she
said as she carried the steaming casserole to the table.   "Who is going to give
the blessing," she asked as she looked at Drew.

"Me, I guess," he mumbled and rolled his eyes before bowing his head.  "Heavenly
Father we give thanks for this food and our family.  Watch over and protect
Anthony, blessing him with your healing power.  Amen."

Raising his head, he noted that everyone at the table was staring at him.
"What?  You told me to do the prayer," he grumbled.  "And what's wrong with
putting Anthony in it?" he finished and stared over at his brother, daring him
to say a word.

"Nothing Drew, nothing," his mother answered rather strangely as she glanced
over at her husband who was looking back with raised eyebrows.  "Dish up now,
everyone," she urged to change the subject.

They ate silently, the clatter of their utensils making the only sound.  No one
was sure how to begin the conversation they all knew was coming.

His younger brother, Matthew, was the one who broke the ice.  As far as Drew was
concerned, he just didn't break the ice, he obliterated it.  "All the kids in
school were talking today about that Anthony kid, Drew.  They were saying he got
beat up because he's gay.  What you doing hanging out with a gay kid?"

Drew could feel the blood draining from his face before rushing back and making
his cheeks burn.  Everyone was staring at him, their food forgotten.  "Just
because he's a smaller guy and likes gymnastics and stuff like that everyone
thinks he's gay so they want to pick on him.  He needs someone to look out for
him, that's all," Drew stammered defensively.  "And look what happened to him
when I wasn't with him," he continued.  "Somebody jumped him in the hallway and
kicked the shit out of him.  He had a concussion so he doesn't remember anything
about it.  And he lost his spleen and he has some cracked ribs and you should
see the bruises all over his legs and butt."

"You saw his butt?" Matthew gasped and then choked on a morsel of food.

"Lord Almighty, Matthew, I've seen it every day in the locker room this school
year," Drew glared at his younger sibling.  "What's so different if I see some
bruises on it?"

"That's enough of that kind of talk, both of you!" their mom reprimanded them.
"Matthew, it's not good to jump to conclusions and Drew, you know better than to
use the Lord's name like that."

"Yes, Ma'am," they both replied almost in unison as they had been taught from
early childhood whenever their mother corrected them.

"So why did you have to stay at the hospital all night and all day today?  He'll
be OK, won't he?" Drew's father asked levelly.

"I guess so, yeah, in time maybe.  It's just that I felt so bad, Pops," Drew
admitted with a catch in his breath.

"Why?  You didn't do anything to hurt him, did you?"

Drew lifted his head in surprise.  "No way!  But I could have stopped whoever
did it if I was there."

"You can't be with him every minute of the day, son, and so don't you think you
are being a bit too hard on yourself over this?  He's just a friend-it's not
like he's family or anything, right?" Dev observed, hoping his son's answer
would erase the lingering suspicions they all were silently harboring.

Drew just sat there, trapped.  Either he could lie about his relationship with
Anthony or just say nothing.

"Well, who made you responsible for his well-being?" Dev insisted pointedly.

"I did," Drew grated out and then pled his case.  "Pops, he is an only child
with no Dad.  If I don't do it, there is no one else who will.  I just feel I
have to do it.  Besides, he's a good person and I want to do it."

Dev and Amanda traded glances once more.  His mom voiced her fears next. "Hon,
we don't want you to be the one who gets hurt next."

"Don't worry none, Mom, if anyone gets hurt it's going to be the other guy, I'll
guarantee you that.  And I have David and Tristan to help me watch my back, so
we'll all be careful, OK?"

"We wouldn't worry so much if you just didn't spend so much time with him, Drew.
He's a magnet for trouble and you're getting mixed up in it," Dev interjected.

"But it's not his fault and I'm not going to dump him as my friend!" Drew said
hotly.  "I'm going to watch the football game tonight since I can't play this
weekend and then tomorrow morning I'm going back up to the hospital to see
Anthony.  So I'm not spending all of my time with him.  Does that make you all
feel better now?" he demanded angrily.

Again glances were traded between parents.  His dad answered, "Yes, it does.
But you have a strange way of asking permission to go do things.  Don't forget
that we are still responsible for you and you need our permission."

Drew visibly composed himself before asking in a more tone, "Yes sir, may I go
to the football game tonight?"

"Yes, but we want you home BY 11:00. No excuses.  Your mother and I are not
interested for quite a while in spending more time wondering where you are in
the middle of the night.  Is that clear?"

"Yes sir.  11:00, no later.  May I be excused now?" Drew asked, his appetite
having vanished entirely.

More glances.  Drew's dad nodded once abruptly and that's all it took for Drew
to leave.  In a minimum of quick strides he was in his room and the door closed,
leaning against it while a series of emotions washed through him.  First came an
incredible sense of relief from being away from the questions he didn't want to
answer, and then came an unfamiliar sense of shame stemming from his desire nor
to disappoint his parents.  His eyes squeezed shut and his hands clenched
tightly at his sides as he struggled with his runaway emotions.  When the hot
tears started to trickle down his cheeks he became angry.  "What was wrong with
people? Why couldn't they just let gay people love their own kind?" he silently
screamed to the universe.  Falling upon his bed he punched his pillow viciously,
again and again, venting his feelings of rage before burying his face in it and
letting it soak up the hot tears that still leaked out.

*****************

As Tristan got ready to leave the house for his football game, Randy nervously
cleared his throat from where he stood by sink cleaning up their dishes.  "Ha
Hum, Tristan, I might not be home until late tonight so don't expect me to be
here when you get home for the game."

"Ok Dad," Tristan said easily.  "You have a hot date?" he teased mischievously.

Randy couldn't help it, and he blushed and refused to look up from the sink.
"Maybe," he answered as he tried for nonchalance.

"Way to go Dad!" Tristan exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with excitement.  "About
time you found someone for yourself to love.  Who is this date of yours?"

"Um, I'd rather not say just yet, Tristan," Randy half mumbled to the sink.  If
anything his face was blushing hotter.  He scrubbed the pot he was doing even
harder.

Tristan finished his milk and stood up.  "Aw, come on Dad.  Tell me," he begged
as he brought his glass over to the sink.

"Nope, not this time.  If things work out, then I'll tell you," Randy said as he
glanced over to Tristan who by now was standing next to him.

What happened next surprised the heck out of Randy.  Tristan slipped an arm
around his waist and drew him close.  "Have a nice time, Dad.  You deserve it."

His hand dripping with soapy water, Randy slapped Tristan on the butt and left a
wet handprint.  "Thanks, now you better get going to your game."

"But Dad, I thought you were coming to the game," Tristan said with a hint of
disappointment.

"I said I was, didn't I?" Randy remembered with a start.  "Well, I think I can
manage to be there, but I probably won't stay to see you afterwards, is that
OK?"

"That's fine.  I was going to walk David home afterwards anyway so I'll see you
when you get back from your date.  I'll be waiting to hear all about it," he
teased.

"Right.  You'd better go."

With a smile on his face and a wrinkling of his nose at his dad, Tristan picked
up his jacket and bounded out the door as only teenagers can do.  He was on his
way to be with David and he was anxious to get there.

Shaking his head at his son's enthusiasm, Randy dried his hands on a dishtowel
and picked up the phone.  "Hello, Craig?  Randy here."

"I'm fine.  Say, I was hoping we could make a slight change in plans for this
evening."

"Well, I promised Tristan I would be at his football game tonight to watch it so
I was wondering if I could pick you earlier than we had planned so we could take
in his game together."

"OK, great.  I'll be there in half an hour and we'll be at the game in time to
catch the kickoff."

"See you then.  Bye."

Randy had to rush now to get ready.  He still had to shower, shave, and get
dressed.  And for once in his life, he didn't know what to wear.  It hadn't
really mattered for so many years that he wasn't sure if he should wear blue
jeans or dress up.  Finally, while he was in the shower, he decided to wear his
newest blue jeans and a shirt that Tristan had given him for Father's Day.

He barely made it to Craig's at the appointed time and as soon as he walked up
to Craig's back door, there was Craig.  "Hi, I hope this change in plans didn't
cause you any trouble," Randy apologized when he saw Craig in person.

"No, it wasn't a problem.  Sean and Brian had plans to stay in tonight and watch
a television movie.  The only thing I had to do is get them organized to make
popcorn.  Sean is quite capable in the kitchen I'm finding.  The kitchen isn't
Brian's strong point and I'd put the fire department on standby if making the
popcorn was left to him."

Randy laughed.  "I'm sure Brian has his strong points too."

"I heard that!" came a shout from within.  "Sean knows all about my strong
points, don't ya?"

"Yeah," came a quieter answer followed by an outburst of laughter from the two
boys.

"I think we should go," Craig prompted as he rolled his eyes.

The two men walked out to Randy's Bronco.  "You mind riding in my truck?" he
asked.

"Not at all.  It's you.  How could I not like it?" Craig asked.

Randy smiled a little smile as he started the truck.  "I have to ask.  Is
anything sexual going on between Sean and Brian?"

Craig raised both eyebrows before saying, "Yes.  Sean is attracted to Brian like
a moth to flame.  And Brian is not shy about sex.  You never know what he'll say
or do."

"What about Sean?  Can he handle that?  I mean, he seemed to be so shy and
unsure of himself when he was at my house that day."

"Yes, I know what you mean.  But it seems that Brian's cockiness and self-
assertion gives Sean the confidence he needs.  They give each other what they
crave, first of which is a love they haven't found elsewhere.  Brian is bringing
Sean out his shell more and more every day."

"Interesting.  Well, I know all too well what it's like having two horny
teenagers around.  Makes you wish you were that age again sometimes."  Randy
looked at Craig and laughed before pulling into the parking lot of the football
field.

The two men casually walked over to the ticket gate and Randy paid for both.
"My treat, since I dragged you here," he explained over his shoulder while
handing money to a bored looking teacher.

"If you insist," Craig said.  "But let me buy you a soda and some popcorn.  I'm
hungry for some since talking about it with the boys."

"I can't say no to that," Randy smiled.  "I'd like a Coke."

With drinks and popcorn in their hands, the men found seats at the top row of
the bleachers and settled down to watch the game, making casual conversation and
eating their popcorn while they waited.

*****************

Just as he said, David's parents came to this game and brought David barely in
time for him to get dressed before they were hustled into a pre-game meeting
with the coach.  "Listen up everyone," Coach Anderson called out while David and
Tristan moved up to front and center to sit down close to the coach.  "OK, you
all know that this game is an important one for us and that we're missing one of
our squad, Drew Andrews.  That means everyone is going to have to step up
tonight to fill in for him so focus on what you need to be doing on the field.
Don't let yourself be distracted by anything else, just think about what we want
to do out there.  And what do we want to do?" he asked in his typical pre-game
speech.

"To WIN!" the team called back.

"TO WHAT?" he asked.

"TO WIN!" they shouted again.

"Say it like you mean it!" Coach Anderson yelled.

"TO WIN!!!" they all bellowed at the tops of their lungs.

"Good!  Now go out there and do your warm-ups.  Brandt, stay in here for a
minute.  Everyone else go.  Cochran, you're the leader-take them through the
warm-ups."

Shocked, Tristan flashed a look over at David.  David just nodded brusquely and
nodded his head towards the door.  After a split second Tristan was on his feet
and leading a chant of "Let's go Saints" with a clap...clap...clap clap clap as
they ran outdoors to the football field.  Acting like he knew what he was doing,
he started the team in their usual series of warmup exercises while wondering
all the while why the coach kept David back.

"What's going on David?" the coach asked point blank.  "Anthony gets beat up in
the school and now our best receiver isn't in school today.  Now you and I get
to try to make a game out of it tonight and it's our first playoff."

"I know, Coach," David said and looked down, wishing he wasn't the one being put
on the spot, even if he was the j.v. quarterback.  "I've been talking to Tristan
today, telling him that he has to be extra sharp out there tonight and if he
gets open I'll be passing to him."

"Good.  I knew you would keep your head in the game.  Go out there and play
football the way I know you can.  You take charge out there and help me get them
focused on tonight's game."

"Yeah, Coach, I'll try," David glanced up and nodded as he spoke.  "Is that all
you wanted," he asked as silence hung in the air.

"I guess so.  I know you'll do your best so get out there and show me what it
is," the coach said, looking into David's eyes for answers to the questions he
wanted to ask but didn't.

David broke that eye contact and headed outside at a run in a cold sweat.  His
usual pregame jitters were their worst ever.  His guts were so knotted up that
he wanted to puke.  He ran up behind Tristan and gave him a swat on the ass
saying, "I'm here now, I've got it."

Tristan glanced over to reply to David and immediately noticed the tension in
David's body and the strain around his mouth.  "David," he started to say when
David shook his head 'no' and motioned for Tristan to join the rest of the team.
David did his best in that game to inject confidence and a winning spirit into
his team.  He called out plays and directed his team with the command of a
natural leader.  Nevertheless, they missed Drew's solid presence and his deft
receiver's hands.

It was the fourth quarter when Tristan found himself wide open downfield to
receive a hurried pass from David.  The ball grazed his fingertips before
tumbling out of bounds.  It was the third down and 20 yards to go for a
touchdown.   David called for another pass play in a desperate try to get them
the touchdown they needed for a three point lead.  The second pass attempt was
anticipated by the opposing team and it was intercepted.  That did it, the
team's spirit was crushed and they mechanically played out the remaining time on
the clock.

Out in the crowd of spectators Drew could only shake his head mournfully.  It
didn't help his mood when a few of the sophomore boys in the back called out,
"Why aren't you out there Andrews?    That team needs all the help they can
get," and then laughed derisively before another boy observed scornfully.
"They play like a bunch of fags."

In the cool darkness Drew felt his face heat.  Before he even realized what he
was doing he sprang up the bleachers and grabbed the offending sophomore by the
shirt with both hands.  "You shut your face asshole or you'll find out how it
feels to be Anthony Miller this instant, cause I'm right in the mood to knock
someone the fuck out," he hissed with white hot anger.  "They tried to put their
heart into it, but it didn't work...too much shit going on cuz of big mouthed
assholes like you.  No more son, you shut your bad ass mouth up and I don't
wanna hear no more of that shit outta you, you hear me?"

Petrified, the kid could only nod with eyes as big as saucers until Drew flung
him back and stalked out of the bleachers.   It happened so fast in the dark
surroundings that only a few other students were aware of the confrontation and
whispered in hushed tones of awe in his wake.

Mercifully the game had ended by that time and after the obligatory handshakes
with the opposing team, David and Tristan headed dejectedly for the showers.
More than anything David hated losing football games and Tristan felt terrible
for not catching the pass that might have won the game.  "I'm sorry," Tristan
choked out to his best friend and lover.  "I should have caught that pass."

"The whole game was horrible," David fumed.  "It wasn't all your fault.  I
didn't have time to get a good pass off to you.  No one could concentrate and we
really needed Drew out there tonight.  Can't blame him for not being here
though."

Right on cue Drew's voice cut through their misery as he stood away from the
shadows of a wall.  "Tough loss tonight guys, wish I coulda helped."

"Hey Drew, we missed you tonight.  I screwed up and dropped up David's pass and
we lost the game cuz of me," Tristan confessed to him mournfully.

"I told you that it isn't all your fault Tris," David started to say wearily.

"Now don't you guys go beating yourselves up over this shit," Drew said as he
slid between his two friends and draped his arms over their shoulders.  "We
coulda whipped their asses if Anthony hadn't gotten hurt and I was playing
tonight.

"Yeah, hope so," David mumbled before the coach appeared in the lights of the
stadium locker room entrance.  "Andrews, your team needed you tonight.  Since
you weren't in school today you know you can't be part of the team tonight.

"Yeah, I'm sorry Coach.  I had to be gone today.  I'll make it up, I promise,"
Drew said and glanced down after seeing the ire in the coach's eyes.

"Sure Andrews, you do that.  Now go home."

Glancing up at the coach who was guarding the door to the locker rooms, Drew
knew he was being shut out, something he had experienced other times in his
life.  With a forced nonchalance, he looked over at David and Tristan and said,
"See you tomorrow then.  Bye", and then swaggered away intending to see Anthony
before going home in time for his 11:00 curfew.

"Yeah, I'll call ya," Tristan called to his back and then followed David into
the locker room.  The team was subdued as they showered up and got changed.  As
Tristan was taking off his sweaty gear he asked, "Got time to stop someplace on
the way home?"

David looked over at him crossly as he paused before shucking off his jock.
"No.  I have to go straight home.  My dad said no stopping, no nothing."

"That sucks."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

Naked, they moved into the showers and showered silently in hot jets of water,
soothing their aching muscles and finding a modicum of privacy to be together in
the clouds of spray and steam.  Through the spray they could look across at each
other as they soaped themselves down.  Tristan always looked so damn sexy in the
shower with his meat dangling down and the water coursing from it.  David felt
his groin begin to tingle from the combined effects of the spray and his
enforced abstinence.

Tristan noticed and grinned over at him, moving his hips suggestively since they
were alone in the showers.

"Hey Brandt!" came a shout echoed through the mostly vacated shower room.

"Yeah, I'm here.  What do you want?" David shouted back.

"Your dad is outside and wants you to hurry up in there."

"Fuck.  What an asshole he's being," David complained bitterly.  "I'm so fucking
sick of him."  Then he shouted back, "Tell him I'm coming soon."

"How long are you going to put up with his shit?" Tristan asked gravely, peering
through the steamy spray at his boyfriend.

"I don't know," David sighed. "What else can I do?" he asked despairingly.

"Move in with me."

"What about your dad?  You think he would be OK with it?  You guys would be
stuck with me because my dad would disown me."

"I'll convince him," Tristan said simply.

"Yeah, but until you do, I'm trapped in that prison called home," the dripping
David said as he spun his shower handle to off.  "And the warden is getting
ready to put me back in my cell.  I gotta get going here, Tris."

They exited the showers, dried and got dressed without further delay.  David
didn't allow Tristan even to make sure his back was dry before putting on his
shirt and yanking up his pants.

"What's the big hurry, David?" Tristan complained.  "Now I don't get to walk you
home and you're rushing to get going."

"I don't need to get bitched at anymore than I already am in for, you should
know that," David griped crossly and half slammed his locker closed.  "See ya
Monday morning."

"Yeah.  Monday morning," Tristan answered dejectedly.  He was the last one out
of the locker room.  He watched the varsity game and never felt so alone in his
life as he did standing in the midst of a crowd of students.  When the game
ended in another defeat he had enough for one day. Warily and rapidly he walked
for home, sticking to lighted areas of the streets.

*****************

The game over, both men stood and stretched before clambering down the
bleachers.  "That wasn't what I hoped we would see tonight," Randy said ruefully
as they stepped on level ground.

"No doubt, but it happens.  I hope the boys won't take it too badly."

"Me neither.  I wonder where Drew was tonight.  They might have won the game if
he were there.   Oh yeah, Tristan told me that Drew wasn't in school today.  He
stayed at the hospital all night with that Anthony kid."

"Do you think those two boys share something special there as well?" Craig asked
thoughtfully as they threaded their way out of the football stadium.

"Maybe," Randy replied.  "I know Tristan and David spend a lot of their free
time with those two.  Come to think of it, he always refers to them as a pair."
At that point he reached his Bronco and climbed in and then looked over at
Craig.  "Well, now what?  Where should we go?"

"Wherever you think," Craig said and then laughed.  "Just not my place."

"Nor my place either," Randy said regretfully.  "Well, how about if we go to The
Roundup and have a drink like we discussed?"

"Sure.  That sounds fine. " With that being said, Craig reached over and took
Randy's hand.  "You OK with this?" he asked.

"Yes, except that I have to shift," Randy found himself saying.  It felt
strange, but nice, to have a guy holding his hand. But they were out in public
so he pulled his hand away and shifted into first gear.  "Maybe later," he said
as he smiled over at Craig.

"Again, it sounds good to me," Craig chuckled.

Hearing that, Randy wheeled out of the parking lot and within five minutes was
pulling up to one of the local watering holes.  "Here we are.  It's early so it
shouldn't be too packed and noisy."

"As long as we can talk it will be fine.  Some noise would be best anyway I
should think," Craig observed.  "You ready to go in?" he asked.

"What? You think I'm going to back out on you or something?" Randy asked.

"I just wanted to make certain that you had no qualms about this."

"No, do you?"

"Certainly not."

"Then let's go," Randy said and got out.  They walked into the bar and seated
themselves in a booth away from the crowd sitting at the bar.  A young bar maid
came right over and smiled at the two men.  "What can I get you fellows," she
asked sweetly.

"Whiskey coke for me," Randy spoke up first and then looked over at Craig.

"Gin and tonic with a twist of lime."

Giving them the once over, she smiled again and left.  Both men looked around
with little to say, surveying their surroundings.  Soon she was back and Craig
was ready with his money. "I've got this one," he said as she placed their
drinks in front of them.  He tipped the waitress generously and settled back
before sipping his drink.  "I've never been here before," he admitted.

"No, I suppose you wouldn't usually come to a place like this," Randy said as he
looked around at the country western décor and the large dance floor.  "I've
been here a time or two with the boys after work," he admitted, glancing over at
the university administrator.

Craig sipped his drink and then peered over the top of it at Randy.  "I hate to
say it, but you are right.  My background and customary associations makes this
foreign territory for me," as he surveyed the assortment of working men that
were congregated around the bar.  A shout of laughter from them erupted at the
moment and made further speech impossible to hear.  When the noise died down he
raised an eyebrow and observed, "Somehow this doesn't seem to be the type of bar
that's friendly to folks outside the ostensible moral majority."

Randy laughed.  "I know what you mean, but barely.  And I would have to agree
with you."  His eyes reflecting the mirth he felt, he added, "Craig, you are a
walking, talking dictionary."

The older man flushed and then replied sheepishly, "I'm sorry.  I don't mean to
be a snob."

"Hey, I know you don't so don't worry about it," Randy half apologized.  "You
just use words that most of these guys in here would not be sure about what you
just said and in a place like this, it really sets you apart."

Craig idly stirred his drink with his straw before looking up.  "Yes, I suppose
it does.  I never aspired to be part of the working class so it's
understandable."

Randy just smiled at him and shook his head in agreement before taking a large
gulp of his drink.  'This isn't working,' he thought to himself.  'I should have
never brought him in here.  He can't keep from using his ten dollar words and
he'll never fit in.' Another burst of rowdy laughter and hoots came from the
direction of the bar as the men hung around the waitress like male dogs follow a
bitch in heat.  "This isn't the place I had in mind when I said we would go
check out that bar," he confessed.

"I should hope it wasn't," Craig smiled and then continued, "or I would have to
question the veracity of your information source."

Randy tilted his head and just looked over at Craig without saying anything, a
slight smile fixed on his face.

Craig burst out laughing.  "Got you that time, didn't I?" he chuckled.  "I
couldn't help myself."

Randy looked to the ceiling, smiling and shaking his head in disbelief.  "I
should have know you were sticking it to me," he said ruefully.

"No, that's not quite right," Craig said after leaning towards Randy. "I was
hoping you would stick IT to me."

Caught in the act of sipping his drink, Randy inhaled some and started coughing.
"You were?" he whispered, using all of the voice he had left.

The older man looked back at him calmly.  "Indeed.  I've always wanted to be the
catcher, so to speak."

Randy's coughing had attracted the attention of the waitress and she appeared at
their table.  "Is everything OK here," she asked with a hand casually resting on
a curved hip while her ample chest strained at the T-shirt that was stretched
across it.

"Outside of my drink going down the wrong pipe, I think we're fine," Randy said
hoarsely after a glance over at Craig who nodded.

Smiling despite her disappointment that the two men weren't going to buy another
drink she said to him, "Just give me a wave when you want another round, OK?"

The younger, more masculine man nodded, his voice box still protesting.

Craig took his cue and answered for them.  "Thank you, we will."  After she left
he turned his attention back to Randy.  "You intended to say that this wasn't
the bar you mentioned a week ago when we made our plans for this evening?"

Again, Randy nodded and then wiped his eyes clear of the tears that had gathered
before speaking in a near normal voice.  "That's right.  I heard of this place
in the city but since Tristan's football game came up I had to shelve that plan.
I hope you don't mind."

The other man smiled and waved a hand in negation.  "No, I don't mind.  Spending
the evening with you is all I cared about, to be honest.  And as long as I'm
admitting things, it certainly feels good to get out of the house.  Watching
over those two boys can be draining."

"I think you indicated that those two boys are having sex.  I know how that goes
too.  If Tristan only knew how much I could hear when he and David are going at
it I think he'd die from embarrassment," Randy confessed with a nervous laugh.
"I try not to listen but they can be quite noisy at certain times."

Craig nodded.  "Yes, I have something of the same problem.  It makes me envious
that I didn't have that kind of experience at their age.  I was too afraid of my
sexuality back then."

"Yeah.  How well do I know those feelings.  I just hoped they would go away, but
they never do."

"Exactly, as we have both learned over the years."  Craig drank the last of his
gin and tonic and set the glass down.  "What now?" he asked.

Randy exhaled before meeting Craig's eyes.  "You want to go someplace?"

"Yes.  But we can't go to either of our homes.  Do you have any alternatives in
mind?"

"Not exactly.  Some deserted place in the country is the only thing I can think
of," Randy said with a self-conscious grin.  "It's either that or some motel.  I
don't why, but that just option doesn't seem right."

"The only other place I can think of is my office," Craig said after some
consideration.  "No mosquitoes there," he added as an apparent afterthought.

"Oh?  It won't be a problem if we go there late at night?"

"Not at all.  I've been known to be in my office late at nights in times past."

"Works for me.  You have something more comfortable than a desk in there?" he
asked with a crooked smile.

"As a matter of fact, I do.  I have a fine Italian leather couch that should
work admirably."

"Then why are we sitting here?" Randy laughed and stood up.

In the dim light of the bar Craig couldn't be sure but the glance he threw at
Randy's crotch seemed to indicate that a certain part of Randy was very
interested.  His own manhood twitched and began to press against the fabric that
civilized society used to conceal the primitive reproductive instincts of the
human male.  Randy strode swiftly out of the bar via a path that kept them apart
from the other patrons and Craig was right behind him, catching tantalizing
whiffs of Randy's scent.  It was an odor that suited him well inasmuch that it
had a manly musk to it without being overwhelming.  His awareness keyed to its
utmost, he noticed Randy adjusted himself surreptitiously as he climbed into his
Bronco.  His own cock gave another lurch at the sight and he gratefully slid
into the truck, dropping one hand into his lap to disguise his arousal.

Without speaking Randy drove out of the parking lot and headed in the general
direction of the college.  "Where should I park?" he asked, breaking the silence
that had enveloped them as they proceeded towards their trysting place.

"At the rear of Old Main you can park near the back entrance," Craig directed.

Randy nodded.  "Good," he said softly and as he began to relax, his right hand
came to rest on the seat beside him.  Craig covered it with his own and traced
Randy's strong fingers with his fingertips.   The only reaction Randy made was
to flex his hand a few times as he drove them to their intended destination,
neither of them speaking until they arrived.  "We're here," he said needlessly
as he killed the lights and switched off the engine.

"Yes, we are," Craig replied a little breathlessly, his internal excitement
mounting more with each passing moment.  "Shall we go in?" he asked as he
squeezed Randy's hand and held it.

"Yeah."  Randy remained still, looking straight ahead for what seemed to be an
eternity until he turned to look at Craig.  "This is kinda strange for me, I
mean when we did it at your house it was more spontaneous, you know?"

"Yes, it was," Craig agreed, "and it was good then.  It will be good this time
too," he assured Randy, his cock twitching at the thought and adding to the wet
spot that had formed in his pants, it being extraordinary for him to be that
sexually aroused to be doing so.

"OK, but for some reason I'm kinda nervous," Randy admitted after he turned his
head to look ahead.

Craig rubbed the other man's hand in the dark.  "Don't be nervous.  You'll be
fine, you'll see. Let's go in," he prompted.

After a short yet interminable silence, Randy answered by opening his door.
Their hands parted as they exited the Bronco and Craig led the way to the door
and unlocked it.  "This is one time I don't mind at all going to the office
after hours," he joked.

Randy chuckled.  "Yeah, I bet.  Where's your office?" he asked.

"Down this hall and to the left is the public entrance, but over here is my
private door," he said as he smiled suggestively.

Randy laughed a low laugh.  "Nice setup.  So why are we standing out here?"

A jingle of keys answered him and then Craig was holding the door open for him.
"There we are, my home away from home," whereby he reached around the doorjamb
to flip on a light switch.  He turned to gesture Randy inside, carefully locking
door behind as they entered.

Randy gaped at the sumptuous office.  A huge desk parked in front of a window
surrounded by built-in shelves took up only a portion of the room.  In addition
to the office desk was a table and 4 chairs to one side of the room.  But to his
immense surprise the comfortable grouping of couch and two overstuffed chairs in
the nearest corner made him understand why Craig suggested they come here.
"This is really nice," he said appreciatively.  "Your office is bigger than the
one the President of my company has."

Craig shrugged deprecatingly.  "These are props," he said.  "Depending on the
type of visitor I have, I use the appropriate setting.  And right now, I am
thinking of something very informal and intimate," he murmured as he stepped
close and slipped an arm around Randy's waist.

Randy matched his move, still looking around at the tasteful decorations and
wall art.  "This beats the hell out of that bar we just left.  All you need is a
wet bar in the corner and a big screen TV and you'd have it all."

"Somehow I don't think the Board of Higher Education would approve of that,"
Craig said with a small laugh.  "Let's get comfortable, shall we?  You sit down,
I'll kill these overhead lights and turn on that corner lamp."

The fit, younger man moved gracefully to sit upon the couch and then felt its
leather surface with his hand.  "This is very nice," he remarked as Craig
altered the lighting before moving to sit right next to him.  Again the feeling
of strangeness washed over Randy but he soon forgot it as a warm hand was
rubbing his thigh and an arm was around his shoulders.

"There, this is much better than some bar, wouldn't you agree?" Craig's voice
murmured close to his ear.

"Um, yes," he said as he slowly laid back, spreading his legs open as he did so.

Craig took the hint and moved his wandering hand upwards until it brushed the
massive hardness that was trapped within the confines of the other man's
clothing.  "You smell so good," the older man said as he nuzzled Randy's neck.

"Thanks, I guess," Randy laughed self consciously.  "This is a first for me,
having a guy tell me I smell good."

"You smell good, look good, and feel good, Randy, so let's enjoy what we've both
been wanting to do," the older man said huskily as his hand roamed over Randy's
midsection.

"Yeeaaah," Randy nearly moaned as Craig's fingers squeezed his erection through
his jeans.  With no conscious forethought, Randy's free hand unsnapped his jeans
button and started to unzip his pants to give his trapped manhood some room.

"Let me do that," Craig murmured, their beards rasping slightly as their faces
rubbed together.  His fingers replaced Randy's and duly unzipped him, then
tugged the front open.  "That better?" he asked.

"Um, yes and no," Randy said, his face heating slightly.  "I'm still kinda
crowded down there," he said in a low voice.

"OK, I can fix that," and before he could say or do anything Craig's fingers
were inside his underwear and gently grasping his tumescent cock, then pulling
it out.

"Mmmm, that's much better," Randy managed to say before Craig's lips were on
his, nibbling hungrily.  Throwing his self-restraint to the winds, Randy gave
himself over to his long pent up desires to actually make love with a guy.  They
kissed with abandon, their hands busily opening and removing the impediments to
their lovemaking, stroking and gently massaging the warm exposed flesh.  The
next thing Randy realized was that Craig's slender and naked frame was pressed
in its entirety along his own nude, muscled body as their hands roamed freely
and their erections danced in time to their beating hearts.  It was interesting,
to say the least, to be feeling another man's chest hair under his fingers.

"I want you to fuck me," Craig whispered in his ear as he pulled Randy to him
tightly.

"You sure?  I didn't bring any condoms," Randy temporized.

"I'm your first guy, right?" Craig asked.

"Yes, that's right," Randy admitted.

"And you don't have anything like herpes or the clap or anything else like that,
do you?" Craig persisted.

"No," came the immediate and assured reply.

"Neither do I.  So just do it.  I want to feel you inside of me."

Awkwardly the two men shifted on the leather couch, their sweat making their
skin stick to it.  Craig lifted his legs out of the way and held them with his
hands at the back of his knees, looking up at the man kneeling above him.  "Use
some saliva," he suggested.

"Um, yeah," Randy said as he slicked his precum around his flared cockhead.
With a glance at the prone figure before him, Randy took his hand and wet his
fingers before using one of nature's handy lubricants to prepare himself.
Moving closer, he aimed at Craig's waiting bottom.  He moved around until he was
lined up and then began to press in.

Craig never expected it to feel like Randy was trying to push a baseball bat up
his ass.  He willed himself to relax and felt his hole slowly open to the
relentless force.  But he was too dry--it wasn't working.  "Use more saliva," he
huffed.

Randy backed off and lubed himself before pressing in once more.  It helped and
this time suddenly his cockhead popped in, sending a flash of pain through
Craig.

"Ah, wait," he panted as he struggled to master it.  His hole constricted,
trying to push out the invader.

Randy kept a steady pressure against him and instead of pushing Randy's cock
out, he felt Randy sliding in further, ever so slowly.  Then there was a second
hold up as the inner sphincter had to be opened.  Without realizing what he was
doing, Craig's body again attempted to expel Randy and his natural act of
elimination caused the muscles to relax long enough for Randy to push his way
through.  Again, Craig was overtaken by more pain as his canal stretched its
utmost to accommodate Randy's size.

"Ooooh, this is nice...sooooo nice," Randy moaned as Craig's hot, tight hole
gripped Randy's manpole.  He moved instinctively, making small fucking motions
to bury his king-sized bone as deep as he could.  Little by little he was
sliding in deeper and deeper, his cock throbbing with the ecstasy of being
encased in a sheath that was tighter and more stimulating than any woman's.

Craig could only gasp as jolts of pain greeted each advance of Randy's unbending
invasion.  He now understood the meaning behind the word impaled since that's
exactly how he felt.   Just as he thought he couldn't take any more, Randy was
all the way in and he paused, his pubes brushing Craig's buttocks.

"I'm all the way in," Randy announced unnecessarily.

"Oh my God," Craig moaned.  "You are so big," he tried to say.

Randy never gave him a chance to say anything else but then started to move.
That massive pole of his slid out and then in, out and back in, innumerable
times.  Each movement of Randy's cock inside of him caused him to gasp.  Craig's
hands clenched uselessly against the leather of the coach as Randy's thrusts
became shorter and quicker, his breathing more pronounced.

Then groaning, Randy buried himself to the utmost, shuddering and jerking as a
powerful orgasm overtook him.  He could feel his semen flooding out of him and
washing deep within Craig's body.  He stilled finally, absorbing the best fuck
of his life, wiggling slightly to prolong the delicious feelings.

Every nerve in Craig's ass was on fire.  He never would have believed it if
someone had told him that it would have been this way.  "Take it out," he
managed to say.

Randy's semi-erect manhood slithered out forever it seemed.  Then cool air
invaded his open hole as the satiated man sat back on his haunches, watching
Craig.  "That was the best," the hunky man remarked, his hands on his thighs.
"How was it for you?"

"It felt like being fucked by the large end of a baseball bat to be honest,"
Craig said as he slowly lowered his aching legs while his abused hole spasmed,
and causing his limp dick to fall to one side.   "It must get better because no
one would want to do it twice otherwise," his face twisted wryly as he spoke.

"So it wasn't good for you," Randy said quietly.

"I'm sorry to say that it wasn't," the older man admitted.  "I wanted it so
don't blame yourself.  I just wasn't prepared for it properly or something."

Randy hung his head.  "I'm sorry, really sorry."

"Thanks for saying that.  It's ok though.  You mind if we get dressed?"

"No."  Silently they dressed except for the intakes of breath Craig made as
ripples of pain would emanate from his bottom.  When they left his office, Craig
noted that he was walking funny.  It still felt like Randy's cock was buried way
up inside of him.  He wondered if he would ever not feel that way.  The ride
home was quiet and when dropping him off, Randy apologized again profusely.
"Enough," Craig finally had to say.  "I know you are sorry.  So am I that it
wasn't the way we imagined it would be.  But there were still some very nice
parts to our evening as well, so let's remember those, OK?"

Finally after a lengthy period of silence Randy agreed, saying, "Yeah, let's."

With those words said, the two men parted.  "Good night Randy," was all Craig
could say as he slowly slid out of the Bronco, wincing as he did so.

"I hope you have a good night too," Randy replied apologetically before Craig
closed the door.

With a half-hearted wave of farewell, Craig carefully moved through the gate of
his fence.  The older man's deliberate movements were spotlighted by the
Bronco's headlights as Randy backed it out of the driveway.

*****************

Dan Brandt stood peering out the front room window at the vehicle parked in
front of his house in the shadows of the trees.  It looked like Brad Mill's
truck---it had better be since Ashley was supposed to be home and in the house
by this time.  It was nearly midnight, which was the absolute latest hour any
underage kid should be away from the protective care of their parents.
Impatiently he flicked the switch of the outside light off and on a few more
times as a signal to Ashley that it was high time she came inside.  "I can't
believe how I have been spending my life waiting on kids these days," he
muttered angrily to himself.  "First David tonight and now Ashley is doing the
same trick, making me stand and wait on their loitering."

He continued to stand there and fume as he paced from the door to the window and
back again, growing more and more upset with his dilatory daughter as the
minutes ticked by.  His scanty patience exhausted, he stepped outdoors and stood
on the porch with his hands on his hips, staring out the truck.   To his
increasing frustration, even the most remarkable of glares did nothing to prompt
her to come into the house.  Something snapped inside and he stalked over into
the deep shadows where the truck was parked and jerked open the passenger door.

The interior light of the truck flashed on, illuminating something neither of
the occupants wanted to be seen.  The boy and the girl separated hastily from a
very intimate kiss and embrace with twin looks of horror at the man's abrupt
interruption.  Dan could hardly miss his daughter's hand removing itself from
the fly of Brad's tented jeans nor he could have missed Brad's left hand quickly
sliding from between his daughter's legs.

Angrily Dan roared at his daughter. "ASHLEY, GET YOURSELF INTO THE HOUSE RIGHT
THIS INSTANT!  GO ON, GET!" as he pulled her roughly out of the truck and shoved
her towards the house.

To his credit, Brad was out and around the front of his truck to confront the
enraged father who was towering over the young woman with an angry scowl on his
face.  "Don't you go yanking Ashley around, old man."

"Who on God's green earth do you think you are?  She's my daughter and you
aren't going to tell me what to do.  Turning his attention back to his daughter,
Dan roared at her. "Ashley, I said GET INTO THE HOUSE!" and then gave her a push
to get her started.

Ashley fled inside, crying as she ran.

Once she was inside Dan turned back to the boy.  "Bradley Mills, you aren't
welcome here among the presence of any member of my family.  Don't come back,
don't call, and don't write letters.  You and my daughter are through, I'll
guarantee you."

His fists clenched at his sides, Brad lashed out, "No, we're not.   I love your
daughter and you can't keep me from her...especially now since she's carrying my
baby."  The boy raised his head to reveal a strongly set jaw, his nostrils
flaring with each deep inhalation.

"You lousy fucking son of a bitch," Dan said furiously.  "You damn kids think
that stealing a girl's virginity makes you a man.  If you are half the man you
think you are, you'll get inside and face the consequences."

"Damn right I am," Brad retorted.  "But I'm warning you, if you lay a hand on
either of us I'll knock you on your ass."

Flinging an arm towards the house Dan demanded, "You just get inside and explain
yourself and what you intend to do about my daughter's pregnancy."

Always before Brad felt an underlying current of tension in the Brandt
household, but tonight he felt he was walking into an actively rumbling volcano
with a spear held at his back.  Ashley was sitting on the couch, tears escaping
into her cupped hands, while her mother hovered near, asking what was wrong.
Silently Brad sat next to Ashley and wrapped a protective arm around her,
staring back at her angry father and confused mother.

"What's the matter with Ashley," Staci Brandt asked nervously, her frightened
glances darting from person to person.

"Go ahead, tell her," Dan ordered, his hands firm upon his hips as he glared at
Brad.

Brad held his gaze before he swallowed and said with a tight voice, "Ashley is
pregnant with my baby."

After a moment of utter stillness, the silence was broken by the shrill wails of
a grieving woman.  "Oh my God," Staci wailed, her hands held to her mouth. "My
baby is too young to be having a child.  Are you sure Ashley?  When did this
happen, I mean, how many periods have you missed?" she questioned, tears
spilling from her reddened eyes in trails down both cheeks.

Ashley looked up with teary eyes to confess between sniffles, "Just one but I've
been sick every morning for a couple of weeks now.  And, I just know Mom.  My
stomach is rounder and dieting doesn't take it off."

Ashley's mother wiped her unadorned face, then folded her arms tightly beneath
her bosom.  "Honey, we will get you to the doctor right away next week and make
sure.  But how could you do this to us?  Didn't we teach you any better than to
go and get pregnant?" Her mom lost it again and started crying more, covering
her mouth with one hand, the other dabbing futilely at her leaking eyes.

Ashley buried her face in Brad's shoulder as she also started sobbing in shame
from the guilt her mother laid on her.

"So what are you going to do now, Hotshot?" Dan demanded of Brad, pointing at
him.  "Are you going to share in the doctor bills and support this child?   Or
do you expect her to give it up?  That would be easiest, wouldn't it, to just
forget this whole mess you caused?"

"I'm not a quitter," Brad replied hotly.  "I told you, I love Ashley and I'm
standing by her and our baby.  I, I just haven't worked out the details."

"Yeah, obviously.  Well, you go home now and we'll work out the details to this
problem you've caused.  And you'd better tell your parents since we'll be
calling them in the next day or so to see what they have to say about this
mess."

The young man's features sagged in defeat as he made to stand from the couch
when Ashley's voice halted him.

"Don't leave me Bradley, take me with you," she sobbed and clung to his arm.

"You're staying here Ashley.  We've had enough of your foolishness to last for
quite awhile now.  It's time for you to grow up and face the consequences of
giving in to your sinful lust," her father pronounced while pointing a firm
finger in her direction.  All he needed was a beard and a robe to be like some
crazed biblical prophet calling damnation upon the heathen.

Defiantly Ashley raised her chin.  "No Daddy, I'm not a little girl that you can
order around any more.  Brad and I will be married.  Whether you like it or
not."

"Don't you talk to me that way Missy.  You will do as I say immediately and go
to your room."  His cheeks had flushed a passionate crimson and the veins in his
forehead throbbed ominously from the shame and fury that boiled within the man.

"No, I'm going with Brad.  Tugging him up from his seat, she turned and spoke in
a soft voice to him.  "Let's get out of here."

Brad clambered to his feet and nervously held the hand she slipped into his.
Looking up, he caught sight of David and Jimmy gawking from the stairway at the
family drama below.  "Let's go then," he said and started for the door.

Dan lunged at that moment, intending to pull Ashley away to make her stay.

But Brad was having no part of that.  Pushing Ashley behind him, he cocked his
fist and growled, "Don't you dare touch her.  Not now, not ever again.  And if
you so much as swing at me I'll take you down."

Furious, Dan stopped in his tracks, his chest heaving.  "Staci, call the police.
Do it now!" he shouted at her when she hesitated, dismayed at the chaos her
orderly life had become.  Nervously she dialed then and brokenly began to speak,
"Hello, we need the police here right away. My daughter is trying to leave with
her boyfriend."

"We're going Daddy, and you can't stop us," Ashley shrieked defiantly and pushed
Brad from behind.  "Let's get out of here before the police come."

Dan blocked the door with his arms spread out.  "You're not leaving this house!"
he shouted at her.

"Yes Daddy, we are.  Come on Brad," Ashley nearly screamed and pulled him after
her to make a run for the back door.

That did it.  David couldn't stay out of it any longer and came bounding down
the stairs only to collide with his dad.

"David, get your ass the hell out of my way," Dan cursed angrily, his face and
his eyes glowing a demonic red.  "Ashley, don't you dare leave this house, you
hear me!" he shouted at the fleeing backs of the couple.  He spun around and
dashed outside through the front door with David hot on his heels.  As he
anticipated, he caught the pair coming around the house from the back door and
caught Ashley's arm.  "I SAID YOU ARE STAYING HERE!" he yelled.

Instantly Brad was there, trying to pull his grip away from Ashley.  Dan threw a
wild punch at Brad's face in an attempt to drive him off.  Dropping his hold
from the father-daughter pair, the now enraged boy drove his right hand into
Dan's gut.  "I TOLD YOU NOT TO MESS WITH HER!" he shouted.

Bent over and sobbing for breath, Dan tried his best to take the fight back to
Brad.  David couldn't stand the fighting anymore and wrapped his arms around his
dad from behind.  "GO ON, GET OUT OF HERE!" he bellowed at the couple, holding
his struggling father tightly.

They took the offered chance and ran, scrambling into the waiting truck.  Brad
shot away from the curb with squealing tires before David released his dad and
stood back, waiting for the inevitable.

"What in Sam hell is wrong with you boy?" Dan hissed at him.  "Holding me so
your sister could run away with him?  I thought your family meant more to you
than that punk."

"You're out of control, Dad," David said, his breath coming in ragged gasps as
he faced off with his still furious father.  "You're hurting everyone.  Just let
it go for tonight.  You gotta calm down.  Mom's crying, Jimmy is scared and
Ashley is so afraid of you she won't stay."  He couldn't help himself, but the
tears were trickling down his face as each word erupted from him.

Dan turned, his finger raised and cocked at David.  "Don't you ever do this
again, David.  I'm your father and you will obey me just as I expect your
mother, your brother and your sister to.  I am the head of this house, not you.
We live according to God's plan in this house and that is what I intend for us
to do.  And quit being a sissy boy with those damn tears."

Angrily David brushed away the tears on his face before spitting out, "God never
intended for you to act crazy, Dad."

Dan stepped forward, sticking his face into David's and declared emphatically,
"I'm. Not. Crazy. And you are out of line.  Now you go back to your room and
stay there.  And while you are in there, open Deuteronomy and read the Ten
Commandments.  Read what it says about honoring your mother and your father and
not committing adultery."

"Fine," David spat.  Just then a police car rolled up with its lights flashing.

The officer stepped out and asked, "Are you the people who called for help?"

"Yes, but you're too late," Dan fumed.  "My daughter ran off with her boyfriend.
I tried to stop her but they left."

"How old is your daughter, sir?" the policeman asked as he approached them.

"Seventeen," Dan replied.

"I see. She wasn't forced to go with the boyfriend but left of her own accord?

"Yes," David answered.

"I told you to go into the house!" Dan said savagely.

David looked at his dad and then the policeman.  It was the same one who was at
the hospital for Anthony the other night.  Their gazes lingered, the policeman
waiting for David to decide what would happen next.  David hesitated as he read
the sympathetic interest in the officer's brown eyes.

"Are you OK?" the officer asked.

"Yeah, I guess," David said heavily.  He turned, trudging inside and wishing
very much that the policeman would take him away too as the neighbors watched
from their doors and windows, attracted by the noise and flashing lights of the
police car.

*****************

Tristan and Drew strolled down the street on their way to see Sean as a fitful
breeze idly blew the leaves into swirling piles.  The sun's rays felt warm on
their skin that Saturday afternoon, but in the shadows Winter was heralding its
presence.  "I'm glad you were able to come along with me," Tristan smiled over
at the darker skinned boy that was striding down the sidewalk with him.

"Yeah, it sucks that it's just us two since Anthony is in hospital and David is
grounded.  It's just you and me for now, son," Drew shrugged and then grimaced
while he remembered in his mind's eye the sight of his boyfriend lying in the
hospital bed, the white bandages wrapped around his chest as he sat reclined up
in the bed.

"How is Anthony doing today?" Tristan asked.

"He was awake and talking this morning.  He's really sore from all his bruises
and after he ate his lunch he said his medications were making him real sleepy.
So he told me to go home and let him sleep and then to come back this
evening...but I couldn't stand to sit home with the 'rents, you know?"

"Oh?" Tristan's eyebrow raised as they crossed the street, not breaking their
stride.

"Well, yeah.  They're starting to ask questions, you know?  Like why I want to
spend all my time with Anthony and why he's so important to me.   God, Tristan,
I'm not ready to spill my guts to them, not just yet anyways."

"I hear ya, Drew.  I don't know how I would have told my dad if I hadn't screwed
up in that motel room during the tornado and blurted out that I loved David."

"Yup, that woulda done it," Drew crooked a wry smile over at the curly haired
teen that had become his best friend after Anthony.

"Here we are," Tristan said as they came up to the stylish ranch home that Craig
Thompson lived with his foster son, Sean.  "We'll see how Sean is doing.  If
he's in a good mood we can hang out with him and if not, well, we'll just find
something else to do, right?"  Tristan tripped the hidden gate latch since he
had been there several times before and led the way into Craig's private back
yard.  Three steps into the yard he stopped abruptly, causing Drew to run into
him.  They both stood there and stared in surprise, not expecting to see what
was going on in broad daylight.  Drew stood partially in the gateway, still
holding on to the gate with his right hand.

There, in front of them was Sean with his eyes closed, stretched out on his back
and rocking with the grace of a feline cat on the ledge of the hot tub, the sun
glinting off his naked flesh.  A moan escaped his lips and trailed across the
yard to where the two shocked boys stood, as his thighs fell further open and
wrapped themselves around the naked boy thrusting above him.  The stranger's
tongue snaked along Sean's gleaming throat, when he dragged his grayish blue
eyes open and spotted Tristan and Drew.  His hips never stopped their rhythmic
motion of slowly thrusting his slender, yet long, erection in and out of the
pliant boy beneath him, and a sly grin crept its way into the fullness of
flushed lips.  His dark eyes connected instantly with Tristan's as their gazes
locked.

The sight branded itself into Tristan's consciousness, and the details were
obvious under the full light of the sun.   The tousled, dark hair of the
stranger, including a narrow dark trail of hair leading past his navel to the
pallid nakedness of his chest served as a backdrop to the tattoo that caught the
sunlight.  On the right hip of the older boy was a crimson heart, pierced with a
detailed black sword, the drops of blood running down his muscled thigh.
Tristan's breath hitched when the fiery gaze broke, and the boy's face
disappeared once again in the crook of Sean's neck and shoulder.

Even more shocking were the sounds of passion that their small friend was
making.  Mewling, he cried out over and over again as his partner sped up, "Oh
Jesus... don't stop Brian, don't ever stop..." He clawed at Brian's back,
arching up off the wooden boards of the ledge and pressing himself against the
broad and sweat-slicked chest.  Brian groaned from the pleasure of the sudden
stinging on his back and gruffly captured the wandering hands in his own, larger
palms.  Pinning Sean flat on his back, he kept his lover's wrists in a tight
grip above his head.  Brian pushed himself up, and threw his head back as he
grunted in pleasure.  Drew and Tristan's mesmerized attention was drawn to a
flashing glint where a dusky nipple was exposed.  The sun had caught the gold
sheen of a ring that pierced his nub and dangled slightly as he moved.

Staring at the two coupling figures, a thoroughly shocked Drew dimly realized
his dick was reacting to the sensuous scene he was seeing.  His mouth agape, he
grabbed Tristan's arm and backed out, pulling his friend with him.  As he did
so, the sound of skin slapping skin grew louder as the strange boy's grunts took
an added intensity.

The two boys stood outside the fence, absorbing what they just saw.  "Did Sean
say anything to you about having a boyfriend?" Tristan asked with a stunned look
on his face.

"Nope, not to me he didn't," the other boy said as he adjusted himself.  "I
can't believe they were going at it outside like that," Drew hitched up his
pants, settling his cock back into its usual place.

Sean's clear voice carried through the fence, "Oh God Brian, I'm gonna come!
Fuck me faster, faster!"  The short, staccato cries of Sean's release rang out
for all of the world to hear as they stood there.

Tristan was having the same problem with his unruly dick and stuck a hand in his
pocket to move things around while looking down the street.  "Oh... fuck!  Here
comes Craig!" he gasped in dismay.   "OH, HERE'S CRAIG, DREW.  MAYBE HE CAN TELL
US WHERE SEAN IS." Tristan all but shouted.

Drew's face dimpled in a suppressed laugh, and he shook his head in silent
mirth.  "That was some fast thinking there, son," Drew said with a grin and wink
as Craig pulled into the driveway.

Tristan gave an answering nod before turning to greet Craig who was looking
rather doubtfully at a pickup box full of groceries.  "Hi Craig, we came over to
see Sean.  Is he home?"

"I'm not sure, Tristan.  I was getting groceries.  We can go inside and see what
they are up to," the tall man smiled at the boy who inspired him to take on Sean
and Brian.  "If you guys wouldn't mind helping me with these, it would only take
us one trip," he suggested, seeming to be moving much slower and more carefully
than usual.

"Sure," Tristan agreed as he opened the tailgate to the truck and started
passing bags of groceries to Drew.  Tristan took his time, carefully passing
each bag to Drew and arranging everything so that Drew and he had equal amounts
to carry.

"Here boys, I can take some," Craig insisted, fighting off another ripple of
pain from his insides and abused bottom.

"No, no, we can handle it," Drew's smile gleamed over at Craig.  Drew knew
exactly what kind of delay game Tristan was attempting and stood there patiently
as Tristan fussed over the sacks of groceries.

"OK, we have all of them," Tristan said as he straightened up under the double
armload of grocery bags.  "THROUGH THE FRONT DOOR?" he asked in a loud voice

"I'm right here Tristan, no need to shout," Craig admonished the boy gently.
"And no, we're going in the kitchen door so I'll open the gate for you guys," he
said before he turned and tripped the latch.

Holding their breath, Drew and Tristan followed, wondering if Craig was going to
be presented with the same sight they had seen only a few minutes before.   To
their immense relief the backyard was empty as they followed Craig as he moved
slowly into the house.

"Put those groceries on the counter and I'll see if Sean is in his room," Craig
directed before padding off to the rear of the house.  Momentarily Craig
reappeared.  "Sean's not in his room, let me see if he's downstairs.  Boys, are
you down there?" he called down the stairwell.

An answering voice other than Sean's came back, "Yes, doctor!"

"Sean has company here to see him.  Why don't both of you come up?" Craig called
down.

"Whatever you say Doc.  One minute."

"So how is Anthony?" Craig turned and asked Drew.  "Tristan's dad told me what
happened."

Drew shrugged.  "He's better.  He's awake now but still isn't good enough to
leave the hospital."

"That is so terrible--to have something like that happen here."

"Yeah, like they say, shit happens," Drew said angrily.

"So it does, I'm very sad to say.  I want you and Anthony both to know that if
you ever need to talk about it in a confidential manner, I will gladly do so.

"OK, we'll keep it in mind," Drew answered simply.  He was saved from further
need to talk about Anthony by the appearance of Sean and the new boy whose name
was evidently Brian.  Both boys were slightly flushed and their hair was
definitely mussed up, and they were dressed simply in shorts and muscle shirts.

Blushing slightly Tristan greeted them and Drew quickly echoed. "Hey,"
"Hi," the two boys barely managed to say while thinking of what they witnessed
scant minutes ago.

"Sup," Brian said cockily, winking at them.

Tristan grinned, "Oh, this and that. We came to see Sean."

"Yeah, how ya doing Sean?" Drew said with an edge of amusement to his voice

"You guys want to come to my room?" Sean asked shyly.

"Nah, they wanna come downstairs, don't ya?" Brian asserted with a knowing look.

Shrugging to each other, Drew and Tristan followed the other two boys down into
the basement.

Entering a bedroom carpeted with castoff clothes, the visiting pair found Sean
sitting on the edge of bed while Brian stood nearby with one hand poised on his
hip, an insolent smirk on his face.  "You guys shoulda stayed for the show."

Sean's mouth automatically dropped open upon those words and a crimson flush
formed rapidly onto his cheeks, the marks on his neck taking on an angry hue.

"You... you didn't..." his eyes fluttered around the room, landing anywhere but
on his friends.

Drew answered with a wink and a nod.

"OHHH yes, we did!" Tristan beamed. "So Sean, introduce us to your boyfriend
here," Tristan continued as he gazed over to the lean, dark-haired stranger.

Still blushing hotly, Sean looked up enough to reply, "This is Brian.  These
guys are in chorus with me, Tristan here" as he pointed to the light skinned
boy, "and Drew there", pointed to the darker skinned companion.

An arched eyebrow was the only reaction Brian displayed to the introduction.

"So why didn't you tell us about him?" Tristan demanded.  "I thought we were
your friends."

A flash of annoyance showed itself on Sean's face.  "I'm sorry, Tristan, I
wasn't aware you needed to know everything, even though now there isn't anything
you don't know," he sputtered.  "You guys know everything about me and I hardly
know shit about you."

"We, um, came over because we wanted to see how you were doing Sean, and because
we had some stuff to tell ya," Tristan explained hastily.  "We didn't know you
guys were going to be outside doing that."

"Don't. change. The. subject," Sean said through his teeth, trying not to blush
at his mention of their little... backyard event.

"And so exactly what is the subject?" Drew interjected.

"I believe you were in the midst of getting upset over not being involved in
Sean's sex life," Brian sneered in the corner.  "So did you have any more
questions or need some tips?" he continued dryly.

Tristan just grinned and shrugged, somewhat embarrassed at being put on the
spot.

Drew simply rolled his eyes and looked away from them, while slowly shaking his
head in negation and a hint of disbelief that Brian would be so outspoken.

"Hey, it's nothing new to us, right Drew?" Tristan asked.  "And Sean's right.
We don't need to keep secrets from each other."

Drew nodded.  "True man, as long as you're happy then we're cool and we're glad
you found yourself a boyfriend.  Remember, I told you that you would find one
soon enough?"

Brian snorted and then scoffed, "Who are you--his shrink?"

"Yeah, in a way.  That's what friends are for and you weren't there when he
needed us," Drew answered firmly as his eyes bored into Brian's.

"They are NOT my shrinks, and would you all please stop talking about me like
I'm not in the fucking room?"

"Sorry Sean," Tristan apologized.  "We know you're here but we're just trying to
get an understanding with Brian."

"Well I don't need you guys to look after me any more.  Brian will do it, won't
you?" Sean flashed a glance over at Brian who by now was leaning his shoulder
against the wall.

Brian smirked, "Yes, dear."

Sean followed with a huge grin, earning himself a wink from his lover.

"That's cool," Drew announced.

Sean wiggled and held up an arm, inviting Brian to sit with him.

Brian rolled his eyes, pushing away from the wall and dramatically sighing as he
sat down.

Sean pursed his lips and began to comment, when a heavy arm was suddenly thrown
around him and he was being weighed down onto the bed, Brian's mouth covering
his.  The teen gasped, shoving the larger form away. "Brian!"

"I thought you needed some attention, Baby," Brian smirked.

Tristan and Drew traded shocked glances.  "Maybe we need to go," Drew suggested.

Sean found it hard to break the dreamy gaze locked between himself and Brian.
"Yeah..." he breathed.  "I mean, if you really want to."

"Well now that we can see you're doing OK Sean, we'll tell you some stuff and
we'll go," Tristan cleared his throat as he talked.

Sean turned away from Brian.  "You have stuff to tell me?"

Tristan shook his head.  "Yeah, we both do."

"Well tell me then," Sean demanded imperiously.

Again the visiting boys looked over at each other.  "You first," they said
simultaneously.

Brian leaned back and sunk into the pillows, pretending a studied disinterest as
he picked at a hangnail on his finger.

"I'll go first then," Tristan said, throwing a grimace at Drew.  "Sean, David
got into trouble with his dad and is grounded for a month.  He told his old man
off when he was bitching him out."

Sean cringed and sought security in finding Brian's hand to hold. "I know how
that goes," he said softly, looking down at the floor.

"Now its your turn," Tristan nudged Drew.

"Well, its not so good either, Sean," Drew started hesitantly.

"Just tell me then and get it over with," Sean sighed.

The other boy laced his fingers together before continuing.  "Anthony was beaten
up really bad on Thursday.  Someone bashed him.  You need to be careful Sean."

Sean swallowed around the lump that had suddenly lodged itself in his throat,
"So the rumors...were true then."

"Yeah," Drew whispered.  "They're all too true.  And Anth is laying there in a
hospital bed all bruised up and missing his spleen because of it."

"That's why we want you to be careful and let us watch your back for you, Sean,"
Tristan picked up the conversation as Drew fell silent.

"OK, thanks," the smaller boy said, struggling not to show the fear that weighed
upon him.  "Is that all?" he asked.

"It's enough, isn't it?" Drew looked up bitterly with bloodshot eyes.

"Yeah, it seems shit always happens," Sean agreed shrugging.

"Okay well, we'll head out then and let Brian do your thing, er...you and Brian
do your thing....or the thing... whatever!" Drew said as he stood.

Tristan laughed slapping Drew's arm "Yeah, see ya Monday and remember, we want
you to stick with us as much as you can, OK?"

"Yeah, I will.  Thanks." Sean waved a hand from waist height.  "See you Monday
then."

"Bye Sean," Drew said as he followed Tristan out of the door.

Tristan stuck his head back in the door.  "Bye Brian.  Nice to meet ya."

Brian looked up and idly waved back.  "Yeah, same here.  Bye."

********************

There you are, another chapter in the lives of my boys and their families.   The
plot is boiling over with various sources of tension as the pressures on the
various relationships continue to build.  Are their bonds strong enough to hold
them together?   Can love overcome all disappointments that real life dishes
out?  We shall see as the events continue to unfold in their lives.

(The people who have joined the David and Tristan Yahoo Group were advised when
this chapter was posted.  If you would like that same option and want to become
part of the David & Tristan family, all you have to do is to send a blank EMAIL
to: David_n_Tristan-subscribe@yahoogroups.com.  You will receive a return email
containing your free membership approval and the link to obtain access to the
Group.)