Date: Tue, 16 Jun 1998 11:59:20 EDT From: Awrt96@aol.com Subject: Mutt & Jeff, Chpts. 18-19 This is a gay love story involving teens. Caveat emptor. Comments welcome at AWRT96@AOL.COM. Mutt & Jeff, A Strange Pair Chapter 18 Robbie staggered back to the car. Clay was getting out as Robbie got there. He wrapped his arms around his beautiful little guy and hugged him tightly. "You OK?" Weeping, Robbie said, "Yeah, I'm ok." "What did he do to you? I couldn't see what was going on." Clay said. "I don't want to talk about it, OK? Just take me home, Clay. Please," Robbie said pushing Clay away. "Come on, Robbie! What happened?" "You wanna know? Huh? You really wanna know?" Robbie yelled at his lover, tears of shame and humiliation streaming down his cheeks. "Well, he made me suck on his cock. You happy now, huh? And then he fucked my ass. Now, you know it all. You happy?" "Oh, baby," Clay sighed. "Oh, baby. Come here. It's all right. Everything's gonna be all right, baby" he cooed as he held the one person in his life that mattered to him. He pulled Robbie close and held him tightly. He tenderly stroked and caressed Robbie's back, whispering soothing words, until the boy was all cried out. When Robbie stopped sobbing, Clay led him to the car door. He reached into the back seat and retrieved Robbie's clothes and shoes. He reached down and flipped the seat lever. The seat moved back to its original position. Clay then helped Robbie get dressed and into the car. As they drove back to Robbie's house, an immense anger boiled up in Clay. "I'm gonna get that fucker if it's the last thing I ever do," Clay swore vehemently. "What's the use?" Robbie said disconsolately. "What's the fucking use?" "What's the use? He abused you. And he's gonna pay! Big time! The fucker's gonna pay! I'm not gonna let him get away with it." "No, Clay . . . let it go. You'll only get in trouble," Robbie said. Clay dropped Robbie off and headed home. As he drove the short distance to his house, the anger at what the cop had done to Robbie increased until he felt he would explode. His head pounded and his breathing became labored. `That bastard! I'm gonna make him hurt so bad. I'm gonna destroy him.' Clay swore. Still in a rage, Clay barged into his house. His parents, in the family room watching TV, heard him come in and stomp up the stairs. The door to his room slammed with a resounding thud. Concerned, Clay's father went up to the boy's room to see what was wrong. He gently tapped on the door. "Go away!" Clay yelled at the closed door. "Clay, come on. Can I come in?" his father asked. "Go away and leave me the fuck alone!" Clay again yelled. "Son, what's wrong? Please, tell me!" "Why the fuck do you care? You don't really care about me anyway," Clay said, sounding like a wounded 12 year old. "Clay . . . please, open the door. Let's talk about what's bothering you," his father once again pleaded. In Clay's rage, everything was a convoluted jumble. His father . . . the police officer . . . figures of authority, all of them . . . responsible for the hurt he was feeling . . . responsible for the terrible hurt that Robbie was feeling. "Leave me alone!" Clay screamed and fell on his bed sobbing. Clay's father forced the door open and entered the room. There was his 6 foot, 4 inch son in a crumpled heap on his bed, crying his eyes out. `Some times he looks like a full-grown man and then other times he looks like a little boy' Clyde Mollison thought to himself as he gazed down at his son. `Yeah, just an overgrown boy.' "Son, tell me what's wrong. Tell me so I can help you." "Yeah, sure. Just like all the other times you've helped," Clay said bitterly. "What are you talking about, young man?" the older man said archly. "You're never there for me when I need you!" Clay screamed at him. Mr. Mollison moved to the bed and sat on the edge. He reached out to put his hand on Clay's shoulder but Clay brushed the unwelcome hand away. "Clay, what are you talking about? Your mother and I are always here for you. We love you. You know that." "I do? Well that's a fucking news bulletin to me!" Clay retorted. "Son, watch your language. I don't like it when you talk that way. It's not proper." "Oh, go fuck yourself, Dad! And leave me alone!" "Clay," Mr. Mollison said with anger in his voice. "I will not tolerate you talking to me that way! I'm your father and you'll show me some respect!" "Just leave me alone, Dad. OK?" Clay said weakly. "No, not until you tell me what the hell is going on." "It's nothing you can do anything about, OK?" "Did you break up with a girlfriend or something?" Mr. Mollison asked. Raising up from his fetal position, Clay looked his father in the eye. "See what I mean? You don't have a clue, do you?" "What on earth are you talking about, son?" "When was the last time you saw me with a girl or even heard me talk about a girlfriend? For that matter, when was the last time you even talked to me? See what I mean? You have no idea who or what I am. I'm just here as far as you're concerned. Just some big old thing that lives up stairs, eats your food and costs you money!" "Oh, Clay. We don't feel that way at all. We love you. But, you have to admit, you are pretty hard to communicate with. You have been since you were a child. We've tried time and again, but you never let us close. It's like you're always straight-arming us away." "Well, maybe you should have tried a little harder! Oh, shit. Why are we wasting our time like this? It's not gonna change anything. Just leave me alone!" Clay said, beginning to cry once again. Mr. Mollison, not a small man himself, reached over and bodily snatched Clay into his arms. He hugged his son tightly . . . just like he had longed to so many times . . . to comfort his son and tell him how much he loved him. This was one evening he was going overcome his own aloofness and let his emotions rule. "Clay, that's not true! We can talk it out. God, I've wanted to communicate with you so badly over the years but just didn't know how to approach you. You've always seemed like you didn't need me, that you weren't interested in having me around." "Oh, if you only knew how many times I wanted you to be there. Like at my games. You've never, ever, been to one of my games . . . never! In all these years that I've been in sports, you've never been to one. Christ, Robbie comes to all my games . . . but you never do." "Oh, son, I'm so sorry. You have to believe me. We didn't mean to hurt you. Your mom and I love you so much. You probably don't know it but we've even got a scrap book in the den with all the newspaper clippings about you. Every time you were mentioned, every picture. We've saved them all." "Oh, man. Why couldn't you just have said something to me instead of making me feel like a piece of crap?" Now, Mr. Mollison was crying too. All the years of pent-up emotion came pouring out of him. He loved his son and wanted his son to know it. "Don't cry, Dad." Clay said, taking on the role of the comforter. "It'll be ok. We'll be ok." "Oh, son, I love you so much." Mr. Mollison said, finally calming down. "Now, let me help you. What happened tonight that got you so upset?" "Dad, it's really none of your concern," Clay said. "See what I mean, Clay. You always push me away!" Mr. Mollison said angrily. "Believe me, Dad, you don't want to get involved with this," Clay said. In frustration, Mr. Mollison shoved Clay away. He stood up and then took a swipe at him. Clay ducked so the blow just barely glanced off his head. "Damn you! You smart-assed pipsqueak! You think you know everything, don't you? What could an old man like me possible have to say that would mean anything to you, right?" he said. Clay was angry himself now. He was angry at that cop, angry at his father and angry at himself because he knew his father was right on the button. That anger came pouring out of him in a torrent of tears and words. "You wanna know what happened tonight? Well, you better sit down then `cause this is gonna blow you away! This is gonna make you want to burn that fucking scrap book you've been keeping! You insist on knowing why I'm upset? Well, I'll tell you. First off, it's not because some girlfriend you don't know about broke up with me. And, you wanna know why? Because I don't have a girlfriend, that's why!" "You wanna know why your loving son, Clay here, doesn't have a girlfriend? Because he's a fucking queer, that's why! Yeah, that's right! Your beloved son is a what's known in finer circles as a goddamn cock sucker . . . a faggot, a pouf. Understand!" Clay sobbed. "Oh, son, you don't really mean that! I can't believe that. You're an athlete and all that. You don't act. ah. funny. It just can't be true. I just won't believe that!" Mr. Mollison said, totally floored. "Oh, yes it's true, all right, Dad. Your Clay is a bonafide queer. But that's not what I was so upset about tonight. You wanna know all the gory details? Well, you asked for it so I guess you're gonna have to hear me out." "Oh, son . . . this isn't necessary," Mr. Mollison said "Oh, yes it is, Dad. I'm gonna tell you the whole bloody story and then you can throw my ass out. Here it is. Robbie and I were up in the hills . . . yes, making love . . . and yes, Robbie's my lover. Well, we were up at Mulholland Promontory making love . . . fucking . . . and a cop, one of LA's finest, drove up and rousted us." "Oh, my God!" Mr. Mollison gasped. "He didn't arrest you, did he?" "No, Dad, the family's reputation's safe! He didn't arrest us. But, what he did do was order me back into the car. Then, when I was out of the way, he made Robbie get down on his knees and suck his dick. And, when that wasn't enough for him, he shoved Robbie onto the hood of the car and fucked him in the ass." Relating the incident to his father stirred Clay emotions up once more and he again began to sob. "He abused the only thing in my life that means anything to me, Dad. Do you understand? The bastard soiled and degraded the one thing in my life that I love above everything else . . . the one thing I've been able to feel good about in my whole miserable life. He hurt my Robbie!" Clay sunk back down on the bed. He grabbed his pillow tightly and cried his eyes out. Clay's dad sat there stunned. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. Suddenly, his whole world had changed also. End of Chapter 18 *** Mutt & Jeff, A Strange Pair Chapter 19 As Clay's sobs subsided, the room took on a eerie silence. Mr. Mollison didn't move, couldn't move. He sat of the edge of the bed in a state of total confusion. A jumble of conflicting thoughts and emotions gripped him. `How could all of this be happening?' he asked himself. `Is Clay really a homosexual or is he just confused?' `Did we do something to cause him to become gay?' `It must be that damned Robbie. He's probably corrupted Clay!' `Jesus, what are we going to do now?' The deafening silence of the room was broken by Clay. "Look, Dad. Can you just leave me alone now? I wanna call Robbie and see if he's ok." "No! Stay away from him, son. He's only confusing you! You're not gay. He's just made you think you are!" Mr. Mollison said. "Give it up, Dad! He's not just confusing me. I know it's a big shock but you have to try to understand. I'm in love with Robbie. I love him with all my heart. Nothing you say is gonna change that. Now, please, I'm asking you again. Leave me alone so that I can call him." Mr. Mollison rose up from the bed and stared down at his only son. The crestfallen man slowly turned and walked to the door. When he reached it, he turned and once again looked back at his son. Without another word, he left. `Damn,' Clay thought. `All of a sudden he looks so old.' Clay dialed Robbie's number. Robbie heard the phone ring but made no effort to answer it. He wasn't interested in whom it might be. He just wanted to be left alone. Never before had he been so dispirited and despondent. He just knew that, after his episode with Greg and with what had transpired that night in the hills, Clay would have nothing more to do with him. He just wanted to die. After several rings, Greg answered the phone. "Greg, it's Clay. Is Robbie around?" "Yeah, he's in his room. Did you guys have a fight or something?" "Why, what gave you that idea?" "It's Robbie. He came home all messed up and went straight to his room and won't talk to me. What's wrong, Clay?" "Look, Greg. I'm coming over! I'll be there in a few minutes." Clay said, hanging up the phone without waiting for a response. Clay threw some clothes and personal stuff into a bag and walked downstairs. He entered to family room to see his mother and father in an embrace on the couch. Clay cleared his voice to get their attention. "Er . . . I'm going over to Robbie's. He needs me. I'll be back tomorrow. We'll talk then." Clay's mother looked up, tears shining in her eyes and said, "Clay, honey, please, let's talk now." "Mom, there's nothing to talk about. I've got to go. I'll see you tomorrow." With that, he turned and walked out. It only took a few minutes to reach Robbie's house. He rang the bell and Robbie's father answered the door. "Hello, Clay. What are you doing here so late?" Mr. Mancini said. "I'm gonna spend the night, if it's all right with you, Mr. Mancini?" "Sure, whatever. You having problems at home?" "Yeah, kinda. But I'll work that out later. I've got to see Robbie now, OK?" "OK, son. Go on up. We'll see you in the morning." Clay climbed the stairs and gently knocked on Robbie's closed door. At first, he didn't get any response. He knocked one more time only to hear a muffled, "Leave me alone." Clay tried the door knob but Robbie had locked it. `Ah, Greg's room,' he thought. He barged into Greg's bedroom, nodded to Greg who was sitting on his bed and without a word, walked into the bath room and then into Robbie's room. He found the boy dressed as he was earlier but curled up in a fetal position in the middle of his bed. "Oh, Robbie!" Clay cried out. Startled by the sound of his lover's voice, Robbie bolted upright. The sight of the distraught Clay once again brought tears to the boys eyes. "What are you doing here?" Robbie choked out. "I came to be with you!" Clay said as he moved to the bed. Robbie stretched his arms out and immediately Clay was in them. They reclined in each other arms. "Oh, Clay. I'm so tired." Robbie said softly, so softly that Clay barely heard him. He then began to cry once again. As his emotions overtook him, he clutched Clay close to him. "Come on, Babe. Let's get you out of these clothes and get to bed. I'm spending the night." Clay said gently. "Oh, I needed you to be here so much," Robbie sobbed, clutching even tighter to his lover and best friend. "Come on, out of these clothes. As a matter of fact, let's go take a nice warm shower. We both must smell like shit," Clay said as he extricated himself from Robbie's grasp. The bigger, stronger boy pulled the smaller boy up off the bed. He picked Robbie up in his arms and carried him into the bath room . . . just like a groom would carry his bride over the threshold. Clay deposited Robbie on the toilet and reached into the shower to turn on the hot water. As the water warmed up, he began disrobing Robbie. When that was complete, he stripped of all of his clothes. He tempered the water and then led Robbie into the large enclosure. With warm water streaming down their bodies, Clay hugged Robbie close. Robbie wrapped his arms around the bigger boy, holding on tightly. Once again, Robbie felt secure and safe. After a few moments, Clay pulled away from the embrace and retrieved the shampoo. He tenderly began to wash Robbie's hair. After gently scrubbing the burr-cut head of his young lover, he pulled Robbie under the water and rinsed the suds away. He then soaped up a wash cloth and gently bathed every conceivable part of Robbie's lovely young body. When Robbie was clean, Clay began to wash himself. The washing of their bodies was a ritual of sorts, more than just a cleansing. Clay was washing away all of the filth that had accumulated on them that day, not just the physical grime that covered their bodies. Without intellectualizing it, he innately understood that before the two of them could get on with the healing process, he had to cleanse away the real filth, the emotional sludge, that had contaminated their lives that evening in the park. "OK, Sweetheart, let's get you dried off now," Clay said lovingly as he turn off the water. The boys exited the shower and Clay, taking one of the large bath sheets hanging in the room, began to dry Robbie's body. First, he towel-dried the bristle of brown hair that covered his beautiful Robbie's head. Then, he gingerly dried the remainder of the boy's body. When Robbie was dry, Clay then dried himself off. As he was finishing, Greg entered the bathroom. " Is everything OK with you guys?" Greg asked. "Yeah, everything's gonna be just fine," Clay responded. "But, will you do me a favor?" "Sure, Clay. What?" "Take Robbie's clothes here and throw them away. Don't put them in the laundry. Throw them away. Understand?" Clay said with some authority. "Sure, but why?" "We'll explain later, Greg," Clay responded. "Now, please, just do as I ask." Clay led a compliant Robbie back into the bedroom. He pulled down the bedspread, the blankets and the sheets. When they had settled down onto the mattress, he pulled the covers over their bodies. The snuggled close. "Thanks Clay. I feel better just knowing you're here. God, I love you so much," Robbie said and he cuddled up against Clay's body. "Man, I wouldn't be anywhere else," Clay responded. "Aren't your folks gonna be upset, you staying here on a school night and all?" Robbie asked. "No. I told them when I left that I wouldn't be home tonight." "Geez, how'd they take that?" Robbie queried. "Not well. But, we'll talk about that later, too. Now, just close your eyes and get some rest. I love you, Robbie...more than you'll ever know." "Me too, the same," Robbie said sleepily. End of Chapter 19