As always, I would like to extend my grateful thanks to my friends Mike, Dave and Aaron for continuing to allow me to bounce ideas off him and providing many helpful suggestions. I would also like to thank all the readers who have written with comments. I really appreciate having heard from all of you. Please keep the comments coming.
Thanks also to the Nifty Archive for hosting this and all the other stories. They do take donations to defray operating expenses, so please help them out as much as you can.
This story contains graphic depictions of sex between consenting teen males and an occasional adult, so if you're some sort of puritan or prude, you ought not to be at this site to begin with, and you certainly shouldn't read any farther into this text. Likewise, if you aren't old enough to read this filth according to the laws, local ordinances, etc. wherever you happen to be - Shoo, go away.
I hope you're enjoying this story. This story is set in a world where there are no such things as STDs or deity-of-your-choice forbid HIV or AIDS, so you won't be reading very much about condoms except in this paragraph. This should not in any way be construed as advocating unsafe sex. Quite the contrary - protect yourself as much as you can, no one else is going to do it for you.
Do not modify or redistribute this text, or show it to any religious zealots or anyone else who will be horribly offended by it without my express written consent.
For a complete list of my other stories (including Nifty Archive links), just e-mail and I will be happy to accommodate.
- - -
And for you youngsters who we all know are studiously heeding the various warnings and not reading this story, I hope you'll pay close attention to what is happening to our hero. What's being described here has happened to lots of people, some of whom I've known. There's a lot of truth in this story. So please, let this be a lesson to you. Stay away from drugs.
* * *
Emo Boi Finds Love
Chapter Twenty One
Thomas thought about some of the things he had talked about with Tyler as he got ready to go to the airport for their first face-to-face meeting. First and foremost there had been drugs. Thomas was dead-set against them, and he had made this clear to Tyler any number of times. There was also drinking. Thomas didn't really object to that, much like Frank hadn't objected with Ollie, at least it was legal, well sort of – there were set drinking ages after all. But Thomas did insist on moderation.
"Having a drink or three in a social setting is fine," Thomas had once said to Tyler in their phone conversations. "But if you ever find that you're drinking to get drunk – then you know you have a problem." Thomas didn't necessarily agree with the arbitrary 21-year-old drinking age the United States government had mandated. In fact he had often said that the reason they were able to get away with raising the age as they had was that people who were eligible to vote in the age group that would be impacted by this at the time didn't care enough to go to the polls, or express their concerns to the politicians who were supposed to represent them.
Thomas did have a rather jaded view of politicians – and he certainly wasn't ashamed to admit it. Nor was he bashful about it if someone wanted to ask. He wouldn't start a discussion about politics, but it was rare indeed that he lost one if someone got him started.
Another talk they had had concerned college. "Dude," Thomas had told him, "unless you want to spend your life in a series of meaningless jobs, most of which involve the phrase `would you like fries with that?' you need to get a college degree. Get one in basket-weaving for all anyone cares, but get one." There were times that Thomas could be very cynical or sarcastic.
"Basket-weaving?" Tyler asked, confused. "Do they really offer degrees in that?"
"Little babe, that was an example," Thomas replied. "The point is, get one. If you get a degree in a subject that's useful – so much the better, but make sure you get one. It may only show prospective employers that you have the ability to learn and finish what you start, but that's important to them. And you'll never get a decent job without one."
Tyler knew the man he considered a friend did have his best interests at heart. Thomasjust wasn't always necessarily eloquent in expressing what he wanted to convey. "Don't worry," Tyler told him. "I'll get a degree, even if it's in underwater horseshoes." Sometimes it seemed almost as if Thomas' warped sense of humor had become ingrained in his young friend too. Times like that made Thomas smile quite involuntarily. It also made him feel good that he had managed to convey his point that getting an education was important to the boy's future in such a way that it was understood.
* * *
Corey woke in the morning before Tyler, just as the early light of dawn peeked through his bedroom window. They were spooned together, Corey behind Tyler. During the night one or the other of them had kicked the covers down, so the sheets, blanket and duvet were now bunched about their feet. The loose boxers Tyler was wearing had pushed up during the night, and nearly all of his buttocks were exposed as a result. Corey was hard, as he usually was in the morning when he woke up, and the tip of his penis was poking out above the waistband of the tight little briefs he had worn to bed. Corey eased back a little from the embrace they had been in and looked down the length of their bodies. The sweet, smooth globes of Tyler's butt and the straining hard-on sticking up from within his own briefs were almost more arousing than Corey could stand.
He wasn't going to take advantage of his friend though. They had been lost to each other for too long, and now that they had managed to reconnect, Corey didn't want to do anything to mess that up.
Corey eased back to get out of bed so he could go to the bathroom. He needed some relief – first to pee, and then... He couldn't resist brushing his hand lightly over the exposed ass cheeks Tyler unknowingly presented to him in his sleep. During his `alone time' after he'd emptied his bladder, Corey couldn't help but think of Tyler's cute little butt as his fingers had glided gently over the soft, smooth skin a few minutes before. He sat on the toilet, furiously jerking and unconscious of the noises he was making. Mixed in with the guttural grunts and groans of his impending orgasm he called out Tyler's name more than once.
Corey wiped his seed from his belly, flushed the incriminating tissue and opened the bathroom door. His heart nearly stopped when he saw Tyler standing just inches away from the door frame. "Um, er, ah, I um... Good morning..." he stammered.
Tyler smiled. Corey could read in his face that Tyler knew exactly what he had been doing in the last few moments before he opened the bathroom door. Tyler could plainly see in the flushed expression Corey had on his face that he was quite embarrassed at having been caught. Tyler's smile turned into more of a goofy grin. "I thought I heard my name," he stated quietly.
Corey's face turned even a brighter shade of red. Tyler had never seen his friend quite so discomfited, and he found it amusing. But Tyler had a more important need at the moment than adding more to his friend's humiliation... "Um, you think I can use the bathroom now?" he asked.
"Sure," Corey answered as he turned sideways to make his way through the doorway and past Tyler. Tyler was unable to resist giving Corey's butt a playful squeeze as he passed and headed back to his bedroom. Corey looked over his shoulder when Tyler did that, trying his best to look shocked.
Tyler just grinned.
Tyler was taking an especially long time in the bathroom. Corey was about to go listen at the door, hopefully to catch Tyler in a similarly embarrassing moment to the one Tyler had caught him in. Corey was halfway across the room to the bathroom door when it opened and Tyler walked out, fresh from the shower. His coal-black hair was still wet, and he held his underwear in his left hand. His right hand held the towel that was wrapped around his waist. "Can I borrow some clothes?" Tyler asked as he approached Corey. Fortunately they were close enough in size that Corey's clothes would fit.
Corey motioned him toward the side of the room where his dresser and closet were located. "Help yourself," he said as he entered the bathroom. "I'm gonna take a shower." Again, Corey was intentionally keeping his distance from Tyler. He would have preferred to stay and watch while Tyler dropped the towel to get dressed. He was hoping that just maybe, if he played his cards just right, he might be able to rekindle the relationship they had once had.
Corey didn't shut the door behind him when he went into the bathroom, perhaps as a half-hopeful invitation to Tyler. When Tyler heard the shower running, he dropped the towel and dug through Corey's dresser drawers for some underwear. He found a pair of plain white briefs and a pair of white socks that came just above his ankles. He was still digging through the closet, clad only in the briefs and socks when Corey came back into the bedroom after his shower. Corey hadn't taken his time; he had washed and was back into his bedroom as quickly as he could. He was still naked from the shower and rubbing the towel across his hair in an attempt to coax the last of the water from it.
He stood behind Tyler for a moment, admiring the view. Then his gaze shifted downward to Tyler's thighs, where once again he saw the bruises Drake had left there. "So Ty," he began, "are you going to tell me about the marks on your legs?"
It took a moment before Tyler turned to face him. There was a tear forming in his eye as he did. "The guy I've been living with..." he started, then paused. He was having a hard time saying it, but he knew he had to. "He, he... he raped me."
"Shit!" Corey exclaimed. "Are you alright? You know, back there?" he asked, concerned for his friend.
"I uh, I don't know," Tyler stammered. "There was blood on the sheets, so I guess I'm not really sure."
"You want me, um... to look and see, um, if it looks okay?" Corey asked nervously. He wasn't sure if he would really know what to look for, but he was worried about Tyler and figured that if there was any obvious damage or something that looked as if it might need medical attention that he would be able to spot that.
"Um, yeah. I guess that might be a good idea," Tyler answered. He slipped his thumbs into the waistband of the briefs and slid them down onto his thighs.
Corey knelt behind him to look. Trying not to get too aroused, he grabbed a globe of flesh in each hand to spread Tyler's cheeks apart. It was just too difficult to see if anything looked amiss from this angle. "You better lie down on the bed," Corey told him. "I just can't see anything like this."
Tyler let the briefs slide the rest of the way down his legs and stepped out of them. He crawled up onto the bed and lay face down. He felt Corey's hands on his ankles, and a moment later his legs were being spread apart. Tyler felt the weight of Corey's body join him on the bed, and spread his legs further apart as his friend moved slowly forward between them. Once again, Tyler felt the cool skin of Corey's hands on his butt, opening up his crack to look inside. Corey let out a slight gasp.
"What's wrong?" Tyler had to ask.
"It's pretty red and raw looking," Corey told him. "It's not like cut or split or anything, but it looks like it could use some ointment or something."
"Um, I don't suppose you would, um... Well, would you mind?" Tyler asked.
"Sure Ty, no problem." Then he felt Corey back away from him and leave the bed. Tyler looked over his shoulder as Corey headed back toward the bathroom. `Damn,' he thought, `it's lucky I ran into him last night.'
It was true. Tyler really didn't want to go back to Drake's. But his parents still hadn't returned his calls. He wondered if they had given up on him. If they had, he knew he wouldn't have much other choice. He considered the possibility that they may not be willing to take him back. `I suppose I couldn't blame them too much if they didn't. I did behave like such an awful shit.' The thought brought tears to his eyes, and he was sobbing quietly into the pillow when Corey returned with the ointment for him.
Tyler felt Corey's weight come back onto the mattress between his legs. He tried to stifle his sobs, but wasn't very successful. "What's wrong?" Corey asked as he slid, kneeling between Tyler's legs. "Are you hurting?" Corey was afraid Tyler's crying was caused by physical pain, when in truth the emotional pain he was feeling at the moment was far worse than any bodily pain could have been.
"No," Tyler answered, lifting his head slightly from the pillow. "It's my `rents. They haven't called back. What if I can't go home? I can't go back to Drake's. I'm just afraid I've fucked things up too bad." Then he dropped his face back into the pillow, his sobs increasing once more.
Tyler felt Corey's hands on his back, rubbing lightly. "It's okay, Ty," he said reassuringly. "I'm sure they'll call. It's still early." Corey's hands moved up to Tyler's shoulders, kneading the smooth, firm flesh. The back rub was soothing to Tyler, and soon his crying was reduced to just the occasional whimper.
"Are you ready for me to put the ointment on?" Corey asked.
Tyler turned his head to the side. "Yeah, go ahead," he sniffed.
Corey squirted some of the medicinal cream onto his fingers, then, using the other hand; he spread Tyler's crack open again so he could apply it to the bruised and battered hole at the center. When Corey's fingers started applying the ointment, it felt cold and Tyler involuntarily shuddered. "Just hold still. It will be better soon," Corey said, trying to soothe his friend. He rubbed the cream all over the raw, irritated area, and then squirted out another small dose onto his fingers to continue. His fingertip worked a little into the opening – this had the inadvertent effect of causing both their dicks to begin to stiffen. Neither was aware of the other's reaction until Tyler became uncomfortable, his penis being trapped between his body and the mattress. He found it necessary to adjust himself, and when he did, Corey was aware of the reason.
Tyler's face reddened with embarrassment. Sure, it wasn't like they hadn't been in this same exact position before, many times. But that was a long time ago, and this was an entirely new situation. Finally, Corey figured that he had applied enough of the cream and backed away. He was quite hard by the time he did, and considering the circumstances, he found himself becoming a little shy and embarrassed himself. He went quickly to the dresser for a pair of briefs.
When he turned back to Tyler, he saw that Tyler was looking over his shoulder in his direction. His stiffness was very apparent through the tight fabric of the underwear he had put on. Corey felt slightly ashamed that he'd gotten hard when all his intentions had been just to render first aid to an injured friend. Yet he hadn't been able to control his body's natural reaction. He involuntarily shifted his hands to cover his groin. He didn't want Tyler to get the wrong idea. Especially knowing what had happened to him, Corey wasn't looking for sex at the moment.
Tyler gave him a little smile. "Don't worry, I know you couldn't help it," Tyler told him as he rolled over and stood up next to the bed. "It happened to me too..." Tyler wasn't quite as hard as Corey had become, but his dick was stiff enough to be sticking straight out from his body as he took the couple steps it required to retrieve the underwear he had let fall to the floor a few minutes before. One thing Tyler didn't realize though, was how badly Corey had wanted to kiss his wounds to make them better.
Once dressed, the boys headed upstairs to the kitchen. As they passed through the family room, they could hear Corey's mother moving around in the kitchen, and smell the breakfast she was already preparing. They exchanged `good morning' greetings with her as they entered the kitchen. Corey poured them both a large glass of orange juice and joined Tyler at the kitchen table.
"How does pancakes, eggs and sausage sound for breakfast?" she asked them as they sat, silently facing each other at the table.
Both indicated that would be perfectly fine, then became silent once again.
"Did you sleep well Tyler?" she asked, wanting to get some sort of conversation going.
"Yes Ma'am," he answered. "Very well, thanks."
Neither of the boys was much in the mood for talking, so after a couple more vain attempts, Corey's mother gave up on the idea of conversation with teen boys first thing in the morning. When Corey's father came into the kitchen a few minutes later, he didn't have any better luck getting them to talk, so he turned his attention to the morning newspaper.
When they finished breakfast, the boys cleared the table for Corey's mother, but she shooed them from the kitchen immediately after. "You two go have a good time," she told them. I'll finish cleaning up."
They decided to go back downstairs to the large recreation room that took up nearly half of the basement level of the house to play ping-pong or video games. Corey had beaten Tyler at three games at the ping-pong table when Tyler decided he'd had enough of that. His mood was down because his parents had not yet called, and this affected his game. Tyler threw himself down on the over-stuffed sofa in front of the large screen television in the recreation room. He was obviously depressed.
"Want to play something on the Wii or PS-3?" Corey asked.
"Nah," Tyler shrugged. "I'm just not feeling that great I guess,"
Corey knew exactly what the reason was. He sat down on the sofa beside Tyler, put his arm around him and pulled him close. "Don't worry Ty. They'll call," he said. Corey wasn't sure he was right, but he had to offer encouragement to his friend.
Tyler appreciated this, and snuggled up to his friend, returning the hug.
- - -
Tyler's parents slept in late. The long trip after the wedding reception had left them very tired when they finally got home in the wee hours of the morning. It was just before lunch when Tyler's mother finally noticed the light blinking on the answering machine, indicating that there were messages waiting. She was nearly in tears before the last message finished playing.
Her baby was safe, and he wanted to come home!
* * *
Comments and feedback are welcomed at firstname.lastname@example.org. Flames will be ignored by me, but will meet with an untimely and horrible demise as the result of the curse of the old gypsy woman who lives across the lake, and has inexplicably taken a liking to me. Anger her at your own risk.
If you would like to be notified by e-mail when new chapters of my stories are posted, let me know, and I will add you to my notification list.