Date: Thu, 07 Dec 2000 15:11:56 -0700 From: Daniel Lund Subject: Southern Knights 5 I am shocked by the number of people that are writing about this story. I'm having a lot of trouble getting to all of the emails, so be patient if I haven't responded. I'll try to get to everyone. As usual, if you're under 18, you know you're wrong being here, etc. Thanks, Dan Southern Knights 5: Bryce bent over to pick up a pile of leaves and winced. His ass was still sore two days after Tate and he had sex, and it made even the most normal chores a bitch. Sarcastically, he silently groused about the reason Tate had bought him all the loose fitting underwear was the fact that his ass would hurt to much to wear his Hanes anymore. He stuffed the leaves into the sack near his feet and straightened up slowly, catching Tate's eye. Tate didn't know if he should laugh or cry. It was obvious that Bryce was hurting, but he didn't dare mention it, or god forbid, make a crack about it. They stood in the middle of the Corbridge's enormous backyard, finishing the last of the fall clean up with Pat. "You hurt your back, son?" Pat asked, turning from his pile of leaves and noticing Bryce's slow movements. "No, sir. Just a lot of work." Bryce said automatically, casting a dirty look at Tate. Tate couldn't help it. He turned away and snickered. Bryce shook his head and went back to the leaves. "Well, let's finish up what we got, and the rest can blow over to Kenderson's. I'm tired myself." Pat picked up a huge pile using the rake, and Bryce held the bag open while he dumped it. "Thanks, boy. Why don't you run in and get us some sodas?" "Yes, Bryce, why don't you run in?" Tate smirked, then dodged as Bryce fainted after him. "Tate, godammit, you're on my nerves. Leave that boy alone awhile." Pat leaned on his rake and pursed his lips. "Yeah, dickhead. Knock it off." Bryce put his hands on his hips. "You, too, Bryce. Enough." Pat was clearly irritated now, and both boys instantly quit goofing around. Bryce took off jogging for the house, hiding his discomfort as best he could. Pat watched him go, shaking his head. "Jesus, that boy moves like he's got hemorrhoids." Tate cracked up, falling to the ground, and Pat stared at him, stupefied. Try as he might, he just didn't understand their humor. "Sorry, Dad." Tate pulled himself together and stood up, wiping his eyes. "I just never figured you for the funny type." "I can be funny, you little shit. I just choose not to be." "Yes, sir." Tate looked away; afraid he'd start laughing again, then looked back at his father. Pat smiled and shook his head, and Tate laughed. The man may not have a clue, thank god, but he was a good sport, Tate thought. "Ah, to hell with this." Pat dropped his rake and put his arm around Tate's shoulders. "C'mon, boy. I've had enough of this shit for one day." They walked towards the house together. "Look who's here!" Bryce met them at the door excitedly and pointed towards the front door. Brad was holding the door open for Joziah and his crutches. Tate grinned and slapped Bryce's back and raced into the living room. "Hey, you're mobile again!" He laughed and wrapped his arms around the wounded warrior, fresh from the hospital. "You look great!" "With those eyes, it's amazing you can hit the broadside of a barn with those footballs." Pat moved in to help Joziah to a chair. The kid's foot and leg were casted to just above his knee, and he was obviously still getting used to the crutches. "He looks like he pissed off someone a little bigger than he is." "It ain't as bad as it looks." Joziah smiled at them, relaxing into the chair. "I get it off in six weeks if I'm well behaved." "I think you're stuck with it forever, then." Bryce chuckled and plopped onto the couch with Brian. "You guys never behave." "That's because 'Have' never has any fun." Brad smirked. "The ebony god here was driving his mother nuts. Hope you don't mind a social call." "Oh, hell no. We were helping Dad with leaves. I'm glad you guys came." Tate dashed into the kitchen and came back with cokes for everybody, then sat in a big easy chair. "I'll bet that hurts like a bitch, don't it?" "It's not bad." Joziah drank from the can and smiled. "They gave me some killer pills, Tater. I don't feel a thing when I take 'em." "Since we can't do much else, maybe we could get Joze upstairs and play Fantasy." Bryce suggested, looking at each of them. "That's cool." Joze nodded. "I can do stairs. I just need to prop my foot up." "We can do that." Tate stood up and led the way, clearing obstacles. Bryce took up the rear, following Brad and Joze. When they hit the upstairs hall, Brad dropped back a little, allowing Joziah some maneuvering room, and leaned down to whisper into Bryce's ear. "Congratulations." "On what?" Bryce asked just as quietly, perplexed. "Gettin' some. You walk like John Wayne." With that he walked down the hall to Tate's room, leaving Bryce with a burning face. After a few seconds, he followed the others, pulling the door shut behind them. Joziah was on the floor in a beanbag chair when he entered, and Tate was arranging another under his leg. Brad set the crutches by the door and tossed their coats on the floor next to them. "What's the matter?" Tate asked, looking up at Bryce and noticing the change in his face. "I feel like I'm advertising to the whole fuckin' world." Bryce growled, dropping onto the floor next to the beanbag chair. "If one more person asks me if my back is okay or my ass is alright. I'm gonna kill 'em." "I didn't mean that as an insult, Bryce." Brad apologized. "I was sincere, man. Congrats." "On what?" Tate moved instinctively to sit behind Bryce and wrapped his arms around his waist. "Getting laid, Tater." Joziah started the game and stared intently at the TV. "It's so obvious, it's painful." For a moment, Joziah's golden eyes met Tate's and he smiled warmly. "When you get used to it, it's a beautiful thing." "Yeah, baby." Brad nodded, watching the screen. "Oh. I don't know yet." Tate muttered, feeling ashamed for making fun of Bryce earlier. "You can tell?" "Only immediately." Joziah hit the keypad several times, then grimaced at the game and tossed the controller to Brad. "Look, Tate, don't stress, okay? It's not like you have 'I'm a fag and I got fucked' written on your forehead. Me and Brad figured it was coming, and we're happy for you guys, really." "I didn't know it would hurt so bad." Bryce muttered, settling against Tate. "Only for a day or two, Brycester." Brad was heavily into the game, moving his hands around in the air with the controller, like that would will his character in to moving a certain way. "Didn't you think it was worth it?" Bryce looked up at Tate and nodded. "Yeah, it was." Tate stroked Bryce's cheek with his finger and turned to Joziah. "Do you guys, you know, do it a lot?" "Let me think." Joziah said, pretending to think about. "Only on days that end in 'Y'." They all laughed, and Joziah patted Tate's arm. "Dude. I never thought I'd talk to you about this. Bryce might be a little sore, but you're the one missing out." Tate blushed and nodded his head. "Sounds like it. We're kinda letting things take their course right now." "Good plan, buddy." Brad groaned at the screen and tossed his controller down. "Anyway, it's an individual thing. Never alike for anybody." Bryce started his turn, but wasn't really into it. "So what suggestions do you have for us?" He asked quietly. "First off, don't worry about those web pages. You'll figure out what you like and what you don't without help." Joziah leaned back and adjusted his leg. "If you aren't afraid of each other, you can do almost anything. Explore a little while first, then repeat the best shit." "Have you done blow jobs yet?" Brad piped in, causing Bryce to be distracted and lose his turn, and Joziah to give him a dirty look. "What?" "That was tactful, as always." Joziah said, disgustedly. "All I said was.." "I heard." Joziah cut him off and looked at Tate. "Sorry, we get kind of direct when we talk shop." "It's okay." Tate smiled, embarrassed. "It's still really hard to imagine you guys, you know,.." He shook his head. "Anyway, I think we'll be fine." "If you run into any questions we can help with, just ask, okay?" Brad stated, leaning back against the bed. "My favorite thing is to use my tongue and play 'Star Trak'". "What?" Bryce handed the controls to Tate and leaned forward. "Star Trek, with an 'e'". Joziah chuckled. "You know, to boldly go where no man has gone before? Get it?" "Oh, yeah." Bryce laughed. "We like that one too." Tate elbowed him, and he blushed. "Sorry." "Leave him alone, Tate. I wouldn't say anything to hurt you guys." Joziah put his hand on Bryce's arm. "He was just curious." "Sorry, Bryce. I'm just having a hard time talking about gay sex with my best friends, okay?" Tate sputtered a little more hotly than he wanted too. "This is still way to new, alright?" "It's cool, Tater." Joziah nodded. "I didn't mean to embarrass you. It's just we were excited to find out you were one of us, you know, in more ways than one." Tate sighed and dropped the controller. "I guess I am, but I still don't know what I think. I just love Bryce. I don't know if that makes me gay or not. I didn't suddenly think Brad Pitt was a hunk or nothin'." "I didn't know that was the criteria." Brad laughed and handed the controls to Joziah. "I did." "So did I." Bryce said quietly and glanced up at Tate. Tate looked down, and Bryce grinned widely. "I did. I liked his hair long, though." Tate shook his head. "So did I." Brad grinned broadly and pulled the elastic out of his ponytail, allowing his hair to fall free. "It inspired me." "You're more muscular than he is, better looking." Tate offered. "Then you lied to us because you said you never looked at Brad Pitt." Joziah paused the game and raised one of his eyebrows at Tate. "Comments?" Tate ran his hand over his face. "I said I didn't suddenly find him attractive. Don't put words in my mouth." "He's bullshittin' us." Brad smirked. Joziah nodded, and Bryce looked up at Tate innocently. "You guys are assholes." Tate laughed. "I have no idea why I even talk to you." "You could try your mom, but she'll kill ya." Brad caught the controller from Joze and started his turn. "Maybe Pat would understand." "Okay," Tate waited for them to quit laughing. "You're to funny for me. Next subject, okay?" There was a long silence, and finally Joziah glanced up at Tate, then at Bryce. "So, Bryce, you getting' any?" They all erupted in laughter. Bryce doubled over holding his stomach, and Brad rolled onto his side. Joziah laughed through his teeth, scrunching up his face, and Tate just chuckled and shook his head. "Fuck you guys." Tate said, Pulling Bryce up to his chest and running his hands up under his lover's shirt. "No," Brad pointed at Bryce. "Fuck him." That was it. They all collapsed into fits, even Tate joining in. After they left, Lorna called Tate and Bryce for supper after which they surprised her by volunteering to do the dishes. The evening ran long as the whole family watched Sixth Sense on DVD. The boys tried not to snicker when Lorna had to explain parts of it to Pat. Finally, yawning hugely, Bryce dragged himself up the stairs for bed. Tate followed, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. They separated at the top of the stairs into their respective doors, only to meet seconds later at the French doors connecting their room. Bryce rested his head on Tate's chest for a moment as they stood in the doorway, trying not to fall asleep standing up. Tate let go of Bryce and peeled of his clothes and went to the bed to pull down the covers. "I must be tired." Bryce mumbled. "That's the first time I've seen your bare ass and not had a reaction." He pulled off his shirt and tossed it into his room, and them removed his own pants and boxers. "Don't take this wrong, baby, but as beautiful as you are, I'd need Popsicle sticks and duct tape to get anything up tonight." Tate climbed in and held the covers up for Bryce. "Hurry, baby, it's cold." Bryce rolled into the bed and slid up against Tate, shivering. "C'mon. Hold me before I freeze." Tate's strong arms snaked around him and pulled him close, and Bryce kissed him quickly, then put his head on the pillows. "Goodnight, Tate. Thanks for holding me so much." "Goodnight, Bryce. I love you." A case could be made for the sanity of revenge, but not on the behalf of Curtis Mann. Even he questioned his own sanity, although not in rational terms. As a boy, he had received pleasure from making puppies squeal, twisting their tails, or causing a cat to screech by kinking its tail. He didn't know why this was enjoyable. He tried not to do it, and knew it was wrong, but he couldn't stop. Same as with that little short kid, Bryce Walker. Curtis had to beat him; it was an absolute thing he just accepted. An outlet of sorts. Football had been an outlet, too. At least until that fuckin' rich boy quarterback had gotten in it. Jesus, that was a maddening bitch. Why couldn't the bastard mind his own business? Curtis had a good thing going. Curtis stomped on a beer can in his father's garage, not satisfied with the simple act of mashing it, and putting his weight behind it and crushing the can. Several indentations in the concrete showed signs of the other cans that had died here. Herky Renthrow pissed him off too, not lifting one finger to help out when the pretty boy had shown up and rescued the skinny little fuck. Curtis shook with rage just thinking about it. His immense body vibrated with the force of another can grinding under his foot, his face contorted with rage. The final straw was that bullshit in the hall at school, when the little fucker had pulled his pants down right in front of everybody and screamed at Curtis to fuck him. He mashed another can, unaware that he was now making audible little noises when he stomped, and drooled down his chin a little. They'd pay for that, all right. Corbridge, his little bitch, and those two assholes that were always with him. If there was one thing Curtis knew, it was how to make something suffer. He almost smiled at the thought, destroying another can. Corbridge took football away from him, but there were other ways to get the rage out. Bet your ass there was. The house was quiet when Bryce woke up and stretched. Careful not to disturb Tate, he went to his room in the early darkness and climbed into his own bed, wincing at the coldness of the sheets. It was a ritual for him to move; making sure no one knew where he slept. It had become fairly easy to fall back to sleep, and Bryce never questioned the logic of this activity. It was part of his life with Tate. Tate, on the other hand, was always a little irritated when he woke up and Bryce was gone. It was selfish, he knew that, but he hated the lie. He and Bryce had been with each other over a month, and it was difficult to not just shout out to the world that they loved each other. This being on his mind, Tate woke up and sat up, rubbing his eyes. The clock said 8:45, and he sighed through his nose, grumpy. It was chilly as he made his way into the bathroom for the morning drain, and he grabbed his robe on the way out, needing coffee. On the counter was a note from his mom. They had left about ten minutes ago, and had gone to church. They'd be home about 11:30 to fix dinner. Tate crumpled the note and threw it away, and opted for orange juice, taking it back upstairs. He closed the door to his room behind himself and headed in to brush his teeth, then went to see if Bryce was up. A tuft of light brown hair stuck out of the covers, and Tate smiled, warmed by the image. Struck by an original thought, he took off his robe and dropped it on the end of the bed and carefully crawled under the covers. He'd never been in this bed before, and it was a sort of strange feeling. Not wanting to wake Bryce, his slid carefully up to him and lay down, draping his arm over Bryce's chest. For several minutes nothing happened. Bryce stirred, rolled towards Tate and snuggled up, cradling his hands under his chin. Tate had been right. Watching Bryce wake up was an experience he didn't want to miss. He had to stop himself from stroking the other's face and hair. After about twenty minutes, Bryce sort of blinked and squinted at Tate, sort of smiling. "Hey." He mumbled. "Morning, beautiful." Tate whispered, embracing him. "I like this." Bryce said after a minute or so. "Me, too." For several minutes they just stayed there, until finally Bryce pulled away and slid out into the cool air. "Jesus!" He cursed and trotted into the bathroom. Tate snickered at the big sound that came from such a little guy as Bryce relieved himself. The sink ran for a minute, and Bryce ran back to the bed, smelling like toothpaste. "Damn, you got cold for only being out of the covers for a minute." Tate rubbed Bryce's back and sides to warm him up. "I looked at the temperature out the kitchen window. It's 43 degrees this morning." Bryce smiled and crawled up onto Tate's chest and put his head down under his chin. "It's four days to Thanksgiving, Tate. 70 is a bit out of the question, ain't it?" "I just don't like being cold, that's all." Tate ran his fingertips up and down Bryce's back lightly. "Anyway, I'll quit bitchin'. I'm not cold now." Bryce smelled really good, and Tate closed his eyes, soaking up all of the sensory information. After a couple of minutes, Bryce lifted his head suddenly and met Tate's eyes with a devilish smirk. "I can warm you up." With that, he turned and tunneled under the covers. "Hey." Tate snickered, "Where do you.." He shivered as Bryce's mouth enclosed around him, and he could feel a hand slide across his thigh. "Huhn....." Tate moaned as Bryce's other hand encircled him and began to pump in synchronization with his mouth. Bryce was gaining experience rapidly, and had learned where Tate liked pressure and where he didn't. His tongue ran in circles and traced a vein, then darted across the tip of Tate's cock. Twice Tate was near the brink of what promised to be a gigantic orgasm, and twice Bryce changed the pace and sensations, slowing the inevitable. Tate pulled at the sheets and grimaced as the nerves vibrated again, yanking the fitted corners free. His vision dimmed, and he saw sparks as his abdomen clinched hard, and he blew free, pumping continuously for what seemed like an eternity. Bryce felt the warning signs and put a finish on his masterwork. Tate bucked hard, bringing his knees up, and Bryce slid between them and held on, increasing the rhythm. He heard Tate cry out, and a geyser went off in his mouth. Shot after shot proved to be too much, and it streamed out of his mouth. When Tate finally relaxed, still twitching a little, Bryce giggled to himself and wiped his face on the sheets. He knew he'd done the best, and the best was gasping for breath as he slid up and out of the sheets. "I am the luckiest guy alive." Tate sighed, Taking Bryce in his arms for a kiss. "You and me both." Bryce smiled and put his head on Tate's chest. "I like waking up this way." Tate's breathing slowed down a bit, and suddenly Bryce was dumped onto the mattress as Tate jumped out of bed. "Hey, where're you goin'?" "Stay there!" Tate called dodging through the doors to his room. He was back in a few seconds and jumped into the bed, nearly knocking them both out the other side. "What'd you need in there?" Bryce asked, pulling the sheets straight. Tate grinned wickedly and held up Bryce's bottle of lube with two fingers. "It's your turn, baby." Bryce blushed and took the bottle. "I wouldn't know what to do." "Ah, bullshit, Bryce. I'll talk you through it, just like you did me." Tate took Bryce's shoulders and held his eye as he spoke. "I want to feel what you felt, Bryce. I want you inside me. Please?" Bryce looked away briefly. "I'm kinda scared." He said quietly, glancing back up at Tate. "Don't be. It's important to me, baby." Bryce smiled shyly and nodded, sliding onto Tate's chest. "Okay, but I want to see your eyes, 'kay?" He uncapped the bottle and poured the substance onto his hand. He held himself up as Tate scrunched down in the bed and brought his knees up, and then put his fingers down into Tate's most private parts. Tate was surprised that it actually felt good. He was braced to find out that it was painful or uncomfortable to have something up your ass, but truth be told, it kinda felt good. Sometimes real good. Bryce's finger hit certain places and Tate felt an almost electric jolt, sort of a pleasure, and damned if he wasn't getting hard again. With some effort, Bryce managed to get the third finger in, watching Tate's face as he moved them in and out. It alternated between a sort of uncomfortable look and bliss, and Tate opened his eyes and smiled. "Now, baby." Tate said quietly and closed his eyes again. He felt Bryce move around a bit, slicking himself up, then gently moving up between tae's legs. He opened them wider to help, and there was a tickle as the head of Bryce's member lined up. "Oh!" Tate gasped as Bryce began to push forward. Although Tate was about an inch longer, Bryce was actually bigger around, and there was a sharp tug, causing Tate to gasp. Bryce stopped, worried. Tate opened his eyes and smiled with an effort. "C'mon, baby, you can do it." He whispered, putting his hands on Bryce's shoulders. Bryce nodded and slid forward again, breeching the last ring of muscle, and they both sighed as Bryce went all the way in. At first, it was an alien feeling as he began to slide in and out, but Bryce quickly figured out where it felt good on him, and where it felt good to Tate. A slight circular movement, for instance, caused Tate to moan, and a shorter thrust nearly caused Bryce to collapse as his body shivered under the nerves. They took their time, and Bryce stopped several times and lay on Tate's chest to rest. He loved the feeling of being totally surrounded by Tate, of being connected. He liked to stop during a forward thrust and kiss Tate's chest and nip at his nipples, and Tate ran his fingertips over Bryce's sensitive skin, sometimes using his nails a little. Bryce was sweating as he began to pump in earnest, and Tate was again rock hard. He watched as Tate touched himself, and then began to stroke himself in time with Bryce. They were both exhausted, but the big finish was coming, and Bryce felt his stomach harden, signifying that the end was near. "Huuuh!" Tate huffed and leaned up off the bed. His face reddened, and his abs crunched up as streams of fluid blew out of him and struck them both, almost smacking as it hit with force. Bryce wasn't aware of it as he cried out, a chill running up his spine. He arched his back and squeezed his eyes shut as he rammed into Tate again and again, emptying himself with incredible spurts into Tate. "Aaaahhh, God!" He shouted, losing control and flopping onto Tate's stomach, unable to stop his involuntary pumps. It took a long time for either to move. They gasped and swallowed, totally drained. Tate clumsily pulled at Bryce's arms, getting him up on his chest and hugging him fiercely. Bryce looked up at Him and was alarmed at what he saw. Tears streamed down Tate's cheeks, and Bryce reached up to touch them, thinking he'd hurt him. "Tate, what's wrong?" "Nothin', baby." Tate smiled and swallowed. "I just figured out what they mean by 'making love'." After dinner with the elder Corbridges, who'd found Tate and Bryce asleep in the family room watching TV, Tate drove Bryce into town to see his mother and waited in the car. "I hope she's feeling better." Tate said as Bryce got out. "Remember, I love you." "If you had any idea how much that means to me." Bryce responded quietly. He let go of Tate's hand and closed the door. Tate waved, and Bryce nodded, heading into the main foyer. He looked in the solarium and was unable to locate her. He checked again, making sure he hadn't missed her before going to he room. The nurse at the desk smiled and pointed at the room across from the desk, and Bryce knocked quietly before entering. She was lying on the bed with the curtains drawn, and opened her eyes as Bryce entered. She smiled wanly, lifting a hand just barely off the bed. "Hey sweetie." She breathed. "How ya doin'?" Bryce asked, trying to sound chipper. He could tell she wasn't good, and he put on his best face for her. "Not bad." She whispered. He took her hand and sat down in a chair next to the bed. "Just tired today." "No wheelchair races?" He smirked, inwardly alarmed by her lack of strength. "Won yesterday." She smiled and closed her eyes. "'Bout time." Bryce looked around at the room, feeling the heat and stuffiness. Two floral arrangements, one from him and one from the Corbridges, sat on a table where she could see them, and he noted that they were getting kind of wilty. He made a mental note to get new ones. "Bryce," She said, surprising him with the sudden strength in her voice, "I want you to be happy." Her head rolled towards him, and their eyes locked. "I never meant to leave you alone." He bowed his head. "I'm not alone, Momma. You don't need to worry." Tate's face danced into his mind, comforting him. "The lawyer will be around to see you." She smiled at him. "Not much to worry about, cause I already got it done." "Momma, you don't need to worry about all that dumb shit. You need to rest and get your strength back." He leaned on the bed and put his hands around hers. "How do expect to get out of here if you don't get feeling better?" "Baby," She soothed, "This was a one way trip. Don't get your heart set on somethin' that won't happen." "So I should give up, let you die?" He said bitterly, knowing the answer. "No, you should learn from it and not do the stupid things I did." She touched his face. "I gambled, Bryce, and I lost. You couldn't change anything. It wasn't your fault. Don't give up, just learn." "I'm afraid, dammit!" He stood up and pulled away, turning to the windows and jamming his hands in his pockets. "If I can lose you, I can lose everybody. Then what the hell do I do?" "I don't have an answer for that." She struggled to move up a bit in the bed. "Honey, if you close people out, you'll be lonely all your life." "It hurts." He sobbed, feeling tears rolling down his cheeks. God he was tired of crying. "Bryce, how do you feel about that boy you told me about?" She asked. "What do you mean?" "Do you love him?" He looked back at her, and then out the window again and finally nodded. "Do you like that feeling, or would you rather not feel like that?" Bryce turned away from the window and sank back into the chair. "I'd be lost without it." His mom reached out and touched his shoulder, and after a second he took her hand. "That's what makes it worth it. It's okay to be afraid, but don't close your big beautiful heart up, Bryce. There's a lot of people that need you." "I guess." He sniffed and wiped at his eyes. "I want to tell you something." She said after moment. "I want you to know how much I've loved you, and how much I appreciated what you've done for me. How you kept that poor old trailer house spotless, and did all the chores, and were always such a good, smart student." Her hand squeezed his. "Bryce, you are the best kind of person I know, and even if you don't admit it, I think you love a lot of people very deeply. I'm proud to have you as my son." Damned if the tears didn't start again, and a hopelessness settled into his chest. He sobbed on her arm, feeling lost and devastated. He couldn't imagine life with out her, and felt shame for thinking bad thoughts about her. "Bryce," She said when he had pulled himself together, "Remember what we talked about today. I need to get some rest now, honey."