Tim and Hank: Chapter 35

Chapter 35: Tim

Tim

I got home about 6:00 after I fixed the problem with the subcontractor, who apparently was confused about how he was getting paid. I got everything back on track and got them working again. I reported it to Jeff, who actually thanked me for helping him out. I took that as a positive sign. Maybe we were on our way to talking again.

I was tired and I didn't feel like cooking, but I figured that I should have something for dinner for Pete when he got home. I cooked some ground beef and mushrooms and poured in a jar of spaghetti sauce. While that was simmering, I straightened up the living room and took out the garbage. By the time the noodles were ready, Pete still wasn't home, so I fixed him a generous plate and wrapped it in plastic and put it in the fridge.

As I sat at the kitchen table and ate my dinner, I thought of Hank. His confession that he was still in love with me... his kisses... how handsome he was... how strong and sexy his body was....

I decided right then and there that I was going to break up with Pete tonight. Even if I didn't get back together with Hank, I deserved better. I would rather be alone than let Pete abuse me any longer. And if he gave me trouble, I knew that Hank would be there to help me.

After I finished eating, I cleaned the kitchen and washed the dishes.

I was sitting on the couch watching TV and waiting when Pete finally came home at 9:30. He walked in and slammed the door hard behind him. His face was beet red and his fists were clenched. I jumped up to my feet.

"Hi, Pete. I need to talk to you about something."

He walked up to me and grabbed me by the shirt.

"How do you know that cop?" he demanded.

I could smell the alcohol on his breath. It was already strong. He must have really packed them in tonight. Bastard.

"I told you, he's Jeff's best friend," I said firmly as I turned my head away from him.

"That's not all, from what I heard tonight."

"Pete--"

Pete backhanded me with his right hand. I held my cheek and I took a step away from him.

He narrowed his eyes at me and stepped closer. "I'm drinking with my buddies and I mention this cop. I'm sitting there a god damned laughing stock while they tell me about how the fucking football jock turned my boy from a virgin to a cock slut. You keep forgetting to mention that."

I knew that I wasn't going win this one. My eyes darted around, looking for somewhere to run.

"Did he fuck you?"

"Pete, I dated Hank years ago. It was way before I even knew you. And frankly, it's none of your business."

Pete backhanded me with his left hand.

"DID HE FUCK YOU?!" he screamed.

"Get out of my house!" I screamed. "I don't love you. I don't want you here anymore!"

I pushed past him to the front door. Pete grabbed me and I saw his closed fist coming towards me, but was unable to move in time. When he made contact with my eye, I was thrown to the ground. I tried to crawl away, but Pete jumped on me and hit me again.

"You fucking slut! You cocksucking whore!"

I tried to push him away with my hands and I kicked him hard in the stomach.

"Get off me!" I screamed.

Pete hit me in the gut and then landed another blow to my face. As he hit me again, everything turned red and then faded to black.

***

I came to as my face hit the living room floor. Blood was pouring out of my nose and I could taste the warm copper-tinged liquid in the back of my throat. I was laying face down on my belly. I saw my shirt land in front of my face. I felt a tugging at my waist as my pants were pulled off and tossed on top of the shirt.

When I felt Pete's hot sweaty body over mine, I cried out and tried to pull myself away.

"Get off me, you bastard!"

He pushed my legs apart with his knees and smacked the back of my head with his fist.

"Shut the fuck up!"

I heard him spit once, then twice. When I felt the bare head of his cock against my hole, I tried to roll over away from him, but Pete pushed down on the back of my neck with his hand and pinned me down with his body weight.

"Stop," I cried. "You're hurting me!"

I tried to reach behind me and hit him with my arms. Pete shoved hard into me all the way to the hilt and I screamed in pain and blacked out for a second. When I woke, Pete was grunting and thrusting into me and my body was wracked with agonizing pain. It throbbed, spasmed, cramped, and burned.

I couldn't move. I could only lay there loudly wailing as he forced himself onto me. Pete then grunted and shouted and pushed into me hard. I felt his body jerking and I felt his warm semen filling me and pouring out of me.

It was over within a minute. Pete then pulled out of me and left the room. I couldn't move. I laid there on the living room floor on my stomach, with my legs spread and my ass leaking fluid. I tried to get up, but the pain was too intense and I slumped down and passed out again.

***

I heard a dull ringing noise fading in and out. My eyes fluttered open as the ringing stopped. Light was streaming through the windows. I groaned in pain as I tried to move.

*CHIRP* "Tim."

It was Jeff's voice on my Nextel phone.

*CHIRP* "Tim!"

Jeff again, louder. I saw my pants in front of me and I reached into the pocket and pulled out the phone.

I pressed the talk button and struggled to speak. "J-- Jeff?"

"Tim. It's 9:00. Where the fuck are you?"

I pressed the button again. "I-I-I'm sick."

"I need the paychecks."

I took a deep breath and groaned before answering. "My desk. Dad has a key."

"Okay. I think Dad is at the office. I'll call him and have him bring them."

I set the phone down and groaned at the pain. It hurt so bad all over.

*CHIRP* "Tim."

It was Dad's voice this time.

I pressed the button. "Go 'head."

"I'll take care of the checks. Stay home and get better, son."

"'kay."

I clutched the phone to my chest and bawled my eyes out. Dad hadn't talked to me in nearly two weeks. Dad had no idea what that meant to me, to have him call me and wish me to get better, to hear him call me 'son' again.

*CHIRP* "Tim."

FUCK. It was Jeff's voice once again.

"Yeah?"

"I told Dad you were sick. He's bringing the checks. Do you need me to bring you anything?"

"No."

"You sure? You sound awful. You need something to eat or medicine or anything?"

"I'm sure," I said with a cough. "Please don't come. I just need to rest."

"Okay, Tim. Get better."

I was tired of this damned phone. I tossed it onto my pile of clothes.

I laid there for a while, but I was freezing and I started shivering. It felt cold and wet around my stomach and crotch. It smelled like pee. Oh, god. I must have pissed myself when I was passed out. I just needed to lay down for a minute and rest.

I grunted and gritted my teeth through the pain and crawled over to the sofa. I cried out in agony as I pulled myself onto the sofa. I pulled the fleece blanket over me and passed out.