Date: Fri, 26 Jul 2002 13:25:17 -0700
From: e@iomfats.org
Subject: Into the Lion's Den Chapter 2

                     Into the Lion's Den
                        A story by e
            c 2002 SunShine DayDreamers UnLimited
                     all rights reserved

     DISCLAIMER:  This story may contain graphic
descriptions of violence.  It also may contain descriptions
of sexual encounters between minors that are homosexual,
heterosexual, and/or bisexual in nature.  If offended by
such things or if you are not of legal age in the country
where you live, then read no further.  The characters and
events depicted in this story are completely fictional and
any resemblance to any real persons, places, or events is
purely coincidental.  This story may not be reproduced in
whole or in part without the expressed written consent of
the author.  Comments or questions regarding this story may
be sent via email to e@iomfats.org.  My stories and those of
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http://www.iomfats.org/  Please visit us there.
                          *********

                          Chapter 2

     As I headed back down the stairs to where I had last
seen Joey, I couldn't help but feel a little guilty about
how I had defeated Ron.  Punching a guy in the balls wasn't
exactly something to be proud of and I'd not only done it
once, but twice in one day.  Oh well, I'd done what I had to
and I'd walked away when I could have done worse.  At least
Recob wasn't likely to be bothering me for a while.  Hell,
he wasn't likely to be walking for a while.  I chuckled to
myself as the image of big bad Ron Recob hobbling down the
hall, hunched over with his knees together and his hands
holding his crotch popped into my head.  I guess I didn't
feel that bad after all.
     "If it isn't Mike Paul."  The voice was cold, flat, and
without emotion.
     I turned to face it.  Instinctively I clenched my
fists.
     "Joe Kirshner."  I responded in the same tone.  There
was dead silence as we stood there, staring at each other.
I was certain that Joe wanted revenge for his friend.  "You
want some too?"
     "Uh, no thanks.  I was just looking for Ron."
     "Upstairs, 203.  You might have to carry him out."
     Kirshner furrowed his brow and looked curiously at me.
Obviously wondering what I meant.  But he said nothing.  He
just turned away and walked up the stairs.
     I exhaled forcefully.  Another narrow escape.  Kirshner
could have taken my head off if he'd wanted to.  He was an
ape man, but not nearly as stupid as his best friend.  Maybe
that's what saved me.  If I could take out Recob, Kirshner
had to have doubts about his ability to take me.
     Joey was nowhere in sight.  I figured he'd either left
school or gone to class which was a decision I was about to
make for myself.  It wasn't too difficult to decide that
class just wasn't an option.  Recob had seen Chris leaving
and I really needed to talk to him.  It was at least a two
mile walk to his place.
     My head was filled with images of our lovemaking as I
walked to my lover's house.  It had been beautiful,
passionate, spontaneous. I'd never imagined anything so
wonderful.  I looked at the sky, the trees, the fields as I
made my way down the street.  The words to a poem began to
form in my head.  A poem to commemorate our union, our love.
By the time I reached his door, I had it memorized.  I loved
writing poetry and I couldn't wait to share it with Chris.
     I grabbed him and pulled him into me the instant the
door opened.  I pressed my lips to his, felt them part, and
allowed him to suck my tongue into his mouth.  Pure Heaven.
Our embrace lasted for no more than a few fleeting seconds,
but it had re-vitalized me, filled me with his essence,
given me what I needed to sustain life.
     "Damn, Mikey, my Mom's in the other room.  If she
catches us like this we're both dead."  Chris' eyes were
wide and his face was red as he pulled away, but there was a
fresh smile on his lips as well.
     I was full of laughs and giggles as he stepped out of
the doorway and into the living room.  I delighted in his
embarrassment.
     "I wrote a poem about us.  Wanna hear it?"  I was too
excited to wait.  I needed to hear his approval.
     "You wrote a poem?  About us?  I didn't know you wrote
poetry."
     "Well, you haven't heard the poem yet.  You might not
like it."
     "It's not some dirty old limerick, is it?"  He was
smiling.  I could tell that's what he wanted.
     I giggled some more.  "No, but I'm sure I could come up
with one of those if you want."
     "Yeah, I'll bet you could, you pervert."  It was Chris'
turn to laugh.  "Let's go to my room, I'm pretty sure I
don't want my mom to hear it."
     "Yeah, I'm pretty sure of that too."
     "Mom!  Mike is here!  We'll be in my room!"  Chris
didn't wait for an answer before starting down the hall.  I
followed and he closed the door behind us as we entered.
Again I pulled him towards me and touched my lips to his.
This time, though he pulled away.
     "Not `til after I hear this poem."  He was wearing an
evil grin.
     "Oh, alright." I sighed, pretending to be disappointed.
     "What's it called?"
     "I never really thought about a title, just the lines.
You can name it if you like."
     "Cool."
     "Um-ummm."  I cleared my throat and began to recite.

	"Tall, golden waves of grass
	A smile, a wink, a touch at last.
	Crisp, running, mountain, torrent streams
	The food, the fuel, of sunshine daydreams.
	Clear blue skies without a cloud
	Where boys can play and love's allowed.
	In peaceful circumstance such as this
	Where truelove awaits a lip's first kiss
	Two boys meet with love and passion
	And embrace forever, a union, everlastin'."

     "Wow!  I love it.  Can you say it again?"  His face was
glowing.  I couldn't have missed the excitement in his eyes.
     "Uh, sure."  I was pleased that he liked it.  "Get me a
pen and paper and I'll write it down for you."
     Chris handed them to me and I began writing, reciting
the poem as I wrote.
     "That's beautiful.  I really like that line about.
where is it?  Yeah, sunshine daydreams.  I think that's what
we should call it."
     I scribbled the words above the poem.  "Done.  Now,
about that kiss."

     Oh, his lips were sweet tidbits of ecstasy.  Most
definitely my favorite part of having a boyfriend was
kissing him, tasting him, savoring the flavor, the aroma and
the essence of boyhood.  Not just his lips either, but all
over, every last inch of his beautiful young body.  And kiss
him I did, from his lips to his toes, peeling away his
clothing as I went.  Nibbling his nose, his ears, his neck,
his nipples.  Licking, lapping, and tasting his chest, his
abdomen.
     Slowly, tantalizingly, working my way down his body.  I
looked up at Chris, his eyes closed, lips parted slightly,
head tilted back and to the right.  My boy was lost in the
world of love.  I worked my way over his hips and down his
thighs, coming ever so close, but carefully avoiding that
most wondrous of prizes standing tall and proud between his
legs.  He sighed as I moved by without touching it.
     He stepped out of his pants and briefs and I removed
his socks as my tongue followed the departing garments down
his leg and over his ankle, his feet and on to his toes.
     "Damn Mikey, that tickles."  He was fighting hard to
keep from laughing.
      I sucked them one by one swirling my tongue around
each as I moved from smallest to largest.  I shifted to his
other foot and moving in reverse slowly and gently I worked
my way up his leg to his waist.
     I moved behind him and lightly kissed and nibbled his
buttocks and then slowly, I inserted my tongue into the
crack, tasting him in places I'd never imagined tasting
anyone before.  He shivered at the touch of my tongue.
     "Holy shit!"  I had definitely surprised him.
     "You better not!"  I laughed a little and tried to
avoid imagining that picture.  Eww!
       He had a musky, salty flavor, stronger than the rest
of his body, not bad like I had thought it would be.  He
tensed and moaned softly as my tongue darted lightly over
his hole.  I crawled around in front of him and gently moved
him onto the bed.  He laid back with his knees hanging over
the edge and his feet on the floor.
     I moved between his legs which were spread wide to
allow me access to his delicious boyhood.  I licked under
his sack and took it between my lips, pulling gently,
stretching it over his balls.  Letting go I watched as it
retracted and tightened slightly.  One at a time I sucked
his balls into my mouth and massaged them with my tongue.
     I heard him gasp.  "Ohhhh."  He moaned.
     His breathing had quickened and I knew he was close.  I
could taste the sweat oozing from his body.  His skin was
slick with it and I glided my hands up from his waist to his
nipples and circled them with my fingers.  I let his balls
slip from my mouth and ran my tongue between them and
towards the base of his penis.
     "Ah, ah, ah, ahhhhhh!"  He gasped and I felt the first
jets of his essence leave his body.  It was warm as it
landed across the back of my hand.  I felt the pulsing of
his penis as it erupted three more times before it was
spent.
     "Oh God! That was wicked."  He was panting, gasping for
breath and could barely utter the words.
     "Oh yes, Chris, It was and you are."
     "God Mikey.  That had to be the best orgasm of my life.
And you never even touched my dick!"  I smiled and bit into
my lower lip, gently.  I turned my head just a bit so that I
was looking at my lover out of the corner of my eye.
     "Oh no?"  I ran my tongue around my lips.  "Well then I
guess I better rectify that situation."  I licked my way up
his now wilted shaft, tasting the results of my efforts as I
went.  It was bittersweet and salty.  I lapped up every drop
as I worked my way up his body.  When he was clean, I moved
back to his lips and inserted my tongue.  We had come full
circle as my I ended right where I had begun.
     "Chris!"  It was his mother shouting from down the
hall.
     "Oh shit!" He said under his breath before shouting
out, "Just a minute, Mom."  We both jumped up and he grabbed
his pants, quickly pulling them on.
     "Is Mike staying for dinner?"
     Chris looked at me.  I shook my head "no" and handed
him his shirt.
     "Chris!"  Her voice was getting closer and we realized
she was headed this way.
     "No, Mrs. Curtis.  I'd best be getting home.  My mom
will get worried if I'm much later."  I stepped towards the
door, opened it and stepped into the hall, pulling the door
closed behind me.  I intercepted her just before she reached
the doorway.
     "Well, look here, why don't you call her and tell her
you're eating with us?  Chris can drive you home after
dinner."
     How could I refuse?
     "Ok, Mrs. Curtis.  Show me the phone and I'll call."
At least if she was taking me to the phone, Chris would have
time to get dressed before she saw him.  I struggled to hold
back some giggles as I imagined the looks on both their
faces if she had walked in on us.
     Chris and I helped fix dinner.  Afterward, as he drove
me home, I told him all about the fight with Recob.  Chris
was impressed.  I'd not only survived my encounters with the
ogre, I'd taken him down twice.  But despite our joy over
today's victory, we were both quite worried about what
tomorrow would bring.

                           *******

     "Aaarrrggghhh!" It felt as though someone had just
driven a railroad spike into my chest.  I fell back into my
bed as I winced from the pain.  I gritted my teeth as I took
a couple of breaths.  It hurt just to breath.  I swallowed.
Oh yeah, Recob had punched me in the ribs yesterday.  Boy,
could that SOB pack a wallop.  It had hurt yesterday, but
nothing like this.  Damn, I have got to get to school today.
I can't let Chris face this alone.  I fought through the
pain, but was barely able to roll out of bed, landing on my
knees.  With my left arm pinned to my side to lessen the
pain, I used my right to push myself upward into a standing
position.
     I stepped towards my dresser and looked into the
mirror.  Oh God! I'll bet I've broken something.  My ribcage
was purple and black starting just below my left nipple and
continuing to my left side.  The bruise was at least eight
inches long and five or six inches wide.  It hurt like hell.
Fuck!  This wasn't like this last night.  There had been
some pain yesterday, but it hadn't seemed any worse than
what I would usually get at football practice.  But this was
definitely worse.
     I could tell my parents and probably get out of going
to school.  But I couldn't.  Chris couldn't be left alone.
I couldn't allow him to face the whole school by himself.
No way!  Joey had exposed us to everybody.  There was bound
to be trouble.  And there was always Recob, Kirshner,
Larkin, and Boselli.  Fuck!  I had to be there.
     I wrapped a towel around my waist and headed to the
bathroom to go about my morning routine.  It wasn't easy and
by the time I had dressed, I was struggling hard to hold
back some tears.
     Fortunately, both my mom and my dad were busy going
about getting themselves ready for work and my brothers and
sister were too self-absorbed to notice the pain I was in as
I ate breakfast and left for the bus stop.
     I never made it.  Chris pulled into the driveway before
I had reached the street.  I smiled as I got into the car.
     "What're you doing here?"
     "What?  I can't give my boyfriend a ride to school?"
He leaned over and kissed me quickly.
     "Of course you can, you little sex-kitten."  I was
chuckling as I said it.
     "Kitten!  I'm no pussy."  We both laughed at his pun
even though it was really bad.
     "Well, the way you were purring yesterday. Ow!"  Chris
punched me in the arm.  Not too hard, but it caused some
pain in my ribs as I moved away.  I winced.
      "What's wrong, Mikey?"
     "Nothing really, my ribs hurt where Recob punched me
yesterday.  That's all."
     "Nothing too serious, I hope."
     "Naa, it's just a little bruise."  I was lying of
course.  It hurt like hell, but I didn't want Chris to
worry.  "I got it because it matches my eyes."  I still had
black eyes from getting hit by Recob on the football field.
     "You goof."  Chris had giggled a little as he said it.
     "Um, I think `poof' is the word you're looking for."  I
was trying to laugh, but it really hurt.
     Chris nearly lost control of the car he was laughing so
hard.  Good thing we were still in the driveway.

                           *******

     The walk from the parking lot to our lockers and then
to class was really weird.  Conversations stopped as we
approached.  There were whispers.  I could hear the words
"fags, queers, and homos" being bantered about.  There was
pointing, staring, and even a few dirty looks, but no one
really said anything directly to us.

     Some of them had been my friends.  I was angry.  I
wanted to yell at them.  I wanted to hit them.  I wanted to
destroy them.  God!  Why do people have to be like this.  I
guess I couldn't blame them.  It's not like any of them had
ever known a fag before.  As far as I knew there were only
the three of us in the whole school.  Suddenly, I felt so
alone.
     I walked Chris to his class before heading to mine.  We
agreed to meet at Chris' locker before lunch.
     It was a meeting that wouldn't happen.  As I entered
the classroom, "Michael, would you come here a second?"
     "Um, sure, Mr. Prather.  What's up?"  I stepped over to
his desk.
     "Mr. Grayson asked me to have you report directly to
his office this morning."  Mr. Grayson is the assistant
principal and in charge of school discipline.
     "Oh."  My eyes went straight to the floor.  Of course.
I shouldn't have expected that I could get into a fight like
that and not suffer any consequences.  As I turned and
walked out of the room, I ignored the giggles and smart
remarks from my classmates.
     Fuck!  Maybe I could get out of it.  Recob had started
the fight.  I was just defending myself.  Dammit!  I have a
right to self defense, don't I?  Of course I do.  Mr.
Grayson would see that.  He was a smart guy.  And besides,
I'd known him practically my whole life.  He'd been my
teacher in both the second and sixth grades.  He was the
guidance counselor when I went to Jr. High.  He' always been
tough, but fair.  That's what everyone liked about him.  He
was fair.  And he liked me.
     As I entered the office, the secretary looked up and
said, "Have a seat right there, young man.  I'll let Mr.
Grayson know you're here."
     I sat in one of the chairs against the wall.  The pain
in my side was becoming unbearable.  I closed my eyes and
gritted my teeth.  I was determined not to let it show.  I
tried to will the pain away.
     After a few minutes, "Mr. Paul."  I looked up to see a
tall man dressed in a gray suit and tie, mid-thirties, and
starting to go bald.
     "Oh, good morning, Mr. Grayson."  My eyes were on the
floor.  I figured there were two things I needed to be,
humble and polite.  Even if it killed me, I would force
myself to be both.
     "Please, step inside."  He held the door to his office
open and motioned me in.
     I hate it when authority figures know they've got you
by the balls and become excessively polite.  It's almost as
if they want you to think they're going to let you go, then
as soon as you relax, they squeeze, hard.
     He nodded towards a chair and walked around his desk
and took a seat.  I sat where he had indicated.
     "Michael, Michael, Michael, how long have we known each
other?"
     Fuck! Why don't you just sentence me to die a horrible
death and get it over with?  Why is it that authorities
always want to give a guy a lecture on top of the death
penalty?
     "I suppose it's been at least thirty-five, maybe forty
years by now."  I smiled a bit, hoping he would laugh just a
little.
     He didn't.  Instead he took a deep breath and pressed
his lips together in a bit of a frown.  He just looked at me
for a moment.
     Shit!  It's worse than I thought.  Is there somewhere
around here where I can just crawl into a crack and hide?
Say something, dammit!  His silence was making me nervous.
     "Uhhmmm, Uhmmm."  He adjusted his tie as he cleared his
throat.  "I expect it's not been quite that long.  But it
has been long enough that I've come to expect better of
you."
     I folded my hands in my lap and looked down at the
floor, "Yessir, I have too."
     "I suppose I ought to hear your side of this first."
     First!  Yeah, give me a chance to confess then hang me.
Why the fuck couldn't you just tell me what it is you know,
then I could at least fill in the gaps.  But shit, this way
I might say something he doesn't already know.  I didn't
even know where to begin lying. Fuck!  I think it had been
Mr. Grayson who first told me that the truth will set you
free, so ok, now prove it.
     "Um, Recob started using me for a punching bag.  I
tried to get away, but he followed.  So I hit him."  There,
that was simple enough, and it was true.
     "And just why would he use you for a punching bag?"
     Damn!  I don't want to tell you.  I can't tell you.
Fuck!  You probably already know, everyone else does.
     "He thinks I'm a fag."  Mr. Grayson's eyes felt like
they were about to burn a hole right through the back of my
head.
     "And why would he think that?"
     Fuck! I'm not ratting out Joey.  I'm not!
     "It's a rumor that's been going around."
     "That's a pretty vicious rumor.  You must've offended
someone pretty bad for them to start spreading that.  Any
idea who started it?"
     Can't you just be fucking satisfied with a simple
answer?  I stared at the floor a second and took a breath.
     "Never mind.  We're not here to deal with rumors.
We're here to get at the truth."
     The fucking truth is exactly what I do not want you to
get at.  Can't you get that through your thick bald-headed
skull?  I had to adjust the way I was sitting in the chair.
This was becoming too much.  I still had a headache from the
concussion and my ribs were killing me.
     "Ok, I guess you're not in a talkative mood.  So I'll
tell you what happened.  You just stop me when I'm wrong."
     Oh thank God!
     "The so-called rumor is true."  He paused, looking
right at me.
     I nodded.
     "Recob started harassing you."
     Another nod.
     "You tried to get away and ended up trapped.  You hit
him.  Later, you two met again in Ms. Davis' room.  There
was a second fight."
     One more nod.
     "That is what happened, correct?"
     "Yes sir."
     "Then why is it that four witnesses say different?"
     "What?"  What the fuck were people saying?  Who was
saying different?  SHIT!
     "I have four witnesses who say they heard you coming on
to Mr. Recob."
     My jaw nearly broke as it hit the floor.  Total shock.
No way.  No fucking way.  The tears just started rolling.  I
was too stunned to even try to hold them back.
     "Who?"  That was the ten million dollar question.  Who
the hell.
     "You can probably figure it out, three of them anyway.
Joe Kirshner, Jeff Larkin, and George Boselli.  "I don't
believe them, of course, but why would Joey Millar being
lying with them?"
     Joey!  The fucking little weasel.  He'd turned on me
again.  Probably under duress, though.  That little fucker
would do anything to save his own hide.
     "You probably noticed his black eyes?"
     Mr. Grayson nodded.
     "Recob."
     "So you think Ron threatened him."  It was more of a
statement than a question.  "There are two others who are
taking your side."
     I swallowed hard.  That meant I had at least a couple
of friends left.
     "I can't just discount those four, though.  I may know
they are lying, but I have to proceed as though they are
telling the truth."
     What the fuck does that mean?  Am I still being
executed at dawn?
     "Ron's being suspended.  And so are you.  Five days.
You'll return to school next Tuesday."
     Oh shit!  What the fuck was I going to tell my parents?
Oh God.  I have to keep them from finding out that I'm gay.
I'll be fucking disowned.  The truth would set me free
alright.   I was about as free as a dead mouse in a fucking
rat trap.
     "Do your parents know that you're gay?"
     I shook my head `no.'
     "I don't have to tell them.  But you'd better think
about it.  Everyone in school seems to know.  The rumor is
bound to get back to them and however difficult it's going
to be, it'll be easier if it comes from you."
     He paused for a moment.  I just sat there, numb,
looking at the floor.
     "And son,"  Mr. Grayson's voice had become very gentle,
"If there are any more threats, or any more violence, don't
take matters into your own hands, come to me."
     Yeah, come to you.  The authority figure.  That's what
I fucking did after Recob beat the shit out of Joey.  I went
to the coach.  That's how this whole fucking mess started in
the first fucking place!
     "Do you have a way to get home?"
     I shook my head `no.'
     "Then why don't you get your books and meet me in front
of the building.  I'll drive you."
     Anything to get me away from school, eh?
     "Um, Mr. Grayson?"
     He looked at me.
     "Do you think I could see the nurse first?"  I was
struggling to get out of the chair.
     "Is something wrong?"  He had gotten a rather concerned
look on his face.
     "I think I might have some broken ribs."

     The school nurse agreed and instead of taking me home,
Mr. Grayson ended up driving me to the hospital.  Sure
enough two of them were broken.  But that was nothing.  Mr.
Grayson found out that Recob had been admitted and kept
overnight.  Severely bruised testicles.  One was apparently
quite swollen and there was some concern it might have to be
removed.

                           *******

     I felt bad about Recob.  I hadn't really wanted him to
lose his balls, though the thought had crossed my mind while
we were fighting.  Shit!  I didn't really want to hurt him.
Well, ok, I did want to, but I hadn't meant to.  God dammit.
Why did it have to be like this?  I just hope he's ok.  They
didn't say it would have to be removed, they just didn't
know yet.  Fuck!
     And what about my own fucking self?  I was still having
headaches from the concussion and getting dizzy once in a
while.  My nose hurt too, and the bruising around my eyes
was still there.  On top of that, now I had broken ribs.  I
should've been returning to football practice next week.
Not anymore.  At least another four weeks, maybe six before
the doctor would let me practice.  The season was only ten
weeks long.
     And Chris.  Fuck.  Who was going to watch out for
Chris?  Recob might be laid up, but the rest of the goon
squad would still be around.  This suspension was going to
kill me.  I'd die from worry.  But why should I be so
worried?  It's not like Chris is some helpless puppy.  He's
strong.  He's smart.  Oh shit.  Who am I kidding?  He's no
match for those baboons.  Strong and smart, yes.  But he's
no brawler, no street fighter.  Chris was, well, gentle.  He
was kind, compassionate, caring.  He was the sweetest person
I knew.  Was?  Was?  Shit!  Is.  God dammit, IS!  I'm
thinking like he's dead already.  What the fuck is the
matter with me?  I've never been this twisted up before.
     I lay in my bed crying.  Wishing sleep would come.  But
it wouldn't.  Far too much on my mind.  I needed to be at
school, but I couldn't be.  Even If I wasn't suspended, my
injuries wouldn't allow it.  I wasn't going to get to see
Chris either.  My dad had grounded me for the rest of my
life.
     He wasn't exactly pleased that he had to leave work to
pick me up at the hospital.  Although, I think that just
maybe, I had detected just a little bit of satisfaction, a
little bit of pride that his son had stood up to a bully.
It was hard to tell those things with my dad.  He rarely
expressed much emotion, especially that kind.  I couldn't
remember the last time he told me he was proud of me or that
he loved me.
     I guess there wasn't that much to be proud of.  I
really wasn't that good at much of anything.  Football,
baseball, maybe.  But that was about it.  I was a decent
student, mostly As and Bs.  But not straight As like my
brother, David.  I am a lineman and linebacker on the
football team, not the most glamorous positions.  David, he
is a quarterback.  I played in the outfield on the baseball
team.  David is a pitcher.  Our dad attended all of David's
games, took off work to go watch.  He hadn't watched one of
my games in three years.  My dad was proud of David and my
other little brother, John.  I'd heard him bragging about
them to his customers.  But I'd never heard him bragging
about me.
     I wished I could be at his shop today.  He'd probably
bitch and complain a lot about what trouble I was, but I bet
he'd do a little bragging, too.  I'd give anything to hear
that.
     Fuck!  I'd never hear that now.  He was bound to hear
that I'm gay.  That would be the end of it.  I was about to
become the biggest disappointment and embarrassment of his
life.  I couldn't stop the tears.

                           *******

     I awoke to the sound of the phone ringing.  I got up to
answer, fighting the pain as I made my way into the kitchen.
     "Hello."
     "Hello, Mikey, is that you?"
     "For better or for worse.  Hi Chris."
     "Well I've heard it's been better."
     "Not when I'm with you."
     "Want me to come over?"
     I looked at the clock.  It was just after 3.  "Sure,
we've got `til 4:30.  That's when my mom gets home.
     "Oh.  I get it.  You want me to CUM over."  I heard a
wicked laugh.
     "Just get your cute little ass over here."  Suddenly my
mood was a whole lot better.
     "You gonna kiss it again?"
     "Just might do a lot more than that, if you're lucky."

                           *******

     I was standing in the front doorway when his car pulled
up.  We embraced on the front doorstep and I swear to God I
thought he was going to swallow my tongue.  I pulled him
inside and hurriedly began to pull off his shirt.  He undid
mine at the same time.  Then suddenly,
     "What's this?"  He was looking at the wrap the hospital
had put around my chest.
     "Oh, just a couple broken ribs.  Nothing serious."  I
said it as dispassionately as possible.
     "Nothing serious!  This morning you told me it was a
bruise."  Chris was just a bit upset.
     "Well, that's all I thought it was this morning.  Turns
out it's both.  Now, I want to kiss my little pussy."  I
pressed my lips to his, but we were both laughing to hard to
kiss very well.  Chris was trying to fight me off, too.  I
knew he wanted to say something.  He couldn't just let me
call him a pussy, but when he opened his mouth I jammed my
tongue inside as far as it would go.  I wasn't about to let
him say a damn thing.
     It was over way too soon, but we'd made love right
there on the living room floor.  I looked at Chris as he lay
next to me and I smiled.  We were both panting, trying to
catch our breath.  I loved looking at him.  I could do it
all day.  I was lost in his deep brown eyes.
     "So how'd things go at school today?"  I really needed
to know.
     "Not too bad really.  Nobody said much of anything.  At
least not to my face.  Joey, neither.  We heard some guys
talking at lunch.  People are scared of you."
     "Scared of me?"  That was the last thing I expected.
     "You put Recob in the fucking hospital.  Think about
it."
     "And they think I'm going to beat the shit out of
them?"  I still couldn't believe what I was hearing.
     "Well, only if they say something."  He paused for a
second, "You know, if you weren't a homo, you'd be a hero."
He smiled at me.
     I smiled back.  "Yeah, I'm probably the only guy in
school everyone would like to see Recob destroy."
     "Maybe some, but not everyone.  We do have some
friends."
     "Really, who?"  I remembered that Mr. Grayson had said
a couple witnesses had been on my side.  But he hadn't named
them.
     "Well, Jeff Lewis for one."
     "I've seen him around, but I don't know him.  How do
you know he's a friend?"
     "He's in most of my classes.  We talked.  He stuck by
me most of the day.  Just in case one of those Neanderthals
wanted to start something.  He told me that Kirshner and
Larkin beat the crap out of his older brother, Matt, last
year.  Matt's gay too.  Jeff's cool with it."
     "Damn!"  Matt Lewis was the captain of the basketball
team last year.  He is in college now, but I had no idea
there were others like us at school.
     "I probably shouldn't tell you this, seeing as how you
like pussies so much,"  Chris now had a particularly evil
smile across his face, "but Andrea Johnson told me that she
thinks you're a real hunk.  Too bad you're a fairy, huh?"
     "Andrea Johnson!"  Shit!  Andrea Johnson was about the
hottest girl in my class, not to mention the most popular.
I'd had a crush on her back in Jr. High, but had been too
chicken to do anything about it.  "Damn, man.  You got some
competition now." I wanted to see if I could make him
jealous.
     Chris looked hurt as the smile disappeared from his
lips.
     "You'd leave me for her?  I knew I shouldn't have said
anything."
     "Only if she kisses better than you do."  I moved
closer to his face and gave him a quick peck on his nose.
"But then again, I'm not sure I'd want a girlfriend who
doesn't have this little handle in front."  I reached out
and took hold of his dick, giving it a squeeze and giggling
as I did.
     Chris punched me in the arm.  "Who you calling a
`girlfriend' and what are you calling `little'?"  He was
trying to sound tough.
     I rolled off of him, roaring in laughter.  It hurt like
hell , but I couldn't stop.  The look on Chris' face was
absolutely priceless.
     "Mine's as big as yours, maybe not as fat, but at least
as long."
     I was still holding my chest, in pain from the laughter
as we heard a car in the driveway.
     "Oh shit.  It's got to be my mom."  We quickly
scrambled to our feet, grabbed our clothes, and scurried up
the stairs to my room.
     My mom wasn't too happy about Chris being there when
she got home.  My dad had called her at work and told her
what had happened.  She calmed down a bit when I lied to her
about Chris bringing me some of my homework assignments.  In
fact, Chris decided he would do just that.  It would give
him an excuse to visit everyday during my suspension.

                           *******

     Nothing much happened the rest of the week.  Chris, of
course, came by everyday with my `homework' and told me who
was friendly and who was not and as much about what was
being said as he could.  It bothered me that he was still
hanging out with Joey, but I guess there is safety in
numbers.  I did warn him about how Joey had turned on us
again, though.  The taunting and teasing was starting to
increase.  The other kid's fear of me didn't seem to have as
much impact as they realized I wasn't around.  Larkin,
Kirshner, and Boselli were the chief instigators.  But there
wasn't anything physical.  I also got word that the swelling
in Recob's testicle had subsided and he wasn't going to lose
it after all.  I was relieved.  At least I hadn't caused any
permanent damage.  But at the same time, I was frightened.
It meant Recob would recover and be back at school much
sooner than I really wanted to see him.
     I was recovering pretty well, myself.  I could move
without nearly as much pain in my ribs.  The swelling around
my nose was gone and the bruising around my eyes was turning
green and yellow.  It would soon be gone as well.

                           *******

     Friday evening came and as I sat down to dinner with my
family, I couldn't help but notice that things seemed to be
getting back to normal.  My mother said grace and we began
passing the food around when suddenly my 11 year old brother
David looked up at me from across the table.
     "Mike, are you really a fag?"