Date: Thu, 17 Apr 2014 23:07:00 -0400 (EDT)
From: DJAkeeba@aol.com
Subject: Tragedy in the Blood, Chapters 22 & 23

This story is about male/male relationships and contains graphic
descriptions of sex.  You should not read this story if it is in any way
illegal due to your age or residence.

This is a work of pure fiction. This story is the sole property of its
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---------------------------------
TRAGEDY IN THE BLOOD
by Steven H. Davis

Chapter 22

Sly Maxwell smiled broadly as I climbed into the back of his red Lambo,
leaning back over Taine's seat to grasp my hand in his gigantic paw.

"Hey, Rick!" he exclaimed in his jovial, gravelly voice.  "How'd you and
Taine do at the range today?"

"We're getting there," I said.  "Nobody's going to be trying what they did
to my dog on any of us!"

"That's great," Sly replied.  "That's just great.  Listen, Rick, I know I
said this before, but I'm really sorry about your dog.  It's not right.  He
was just a pup, for Chrissakes... just a pup!  Those little bastards are
gonna pay for that, mark my words."

He gunned the engine and began driving toward the Sizzler.  Taine said
nothing, his head leaning sullenly against the passenger window.  I
remembered the last time we'd been in these positions, shortly before being
T-boned by the drunken woman's truck.  One more horror for Taine to absorb.
I longed to reach forward and comfort him, but I didn't want to risk such a
tell in front of Sly.  Instead, I leaned back in my seat, attempting to
reach Taine with my thoughts instead.

I love you, Babes, I sent him.  So does your dad.  It's all going to be
okay.

But what I said was, "We have to find out who they were first."

"You know who they were," growled Sly, "and so do I.  We'll fix 'em, don't
worry about that."

I believed that he was serious, but I also believed that unless they were
removed from the school permanently -- and that seemed highly unlikely --
it was going to be a very long year for me and my angel.  Shit, it had
already been a long year, and we were only at the end of the third week of
school.

"Rick," Sly announced suddenly, "you know that Taine is the most important
thing in the world to me."

I checked Taine's reflection in the front window before answering, "Yes,
sir.  I know.  He's pretty important to me, too."

I saw Sly glance over at Taine, who was still gazing out the window,
motionless.

"You know that, and I know that," Sly chuckled.  "But I don't think Taine
knows that."

Well, what do you know, I thought.  He gets it.  That must hurt, knowing
your love isn't even acknowledged.  Okay, let's see if I can help this
process along without starting an argument...

"Well, sir," I began, "I know that you've both been through a lot, and
people grieve in different ways..."

"Bullshit!" Taine exclaimed, and I saw that he was crying.  "He never loved
me like she did, never!  Just shut up, Rick, you don't know what you're
talking about.  Mind your own business."

Guess not.  I shut up.

I was wounded, but I knew -- and this hurt worse -- that I was not a
millionth as wounded as Taine.

"That is IT!" shouted Sly, and whipped the Lambo off the road.

He screeched into the parking lot of an auto parts store which had been
closed for months, another casualty of ex-President Carter's recession,
burning rubber on the asphalt outside.

Oh, shit, I thought.  This is going to get very uncomfortable.

The car roared to a halt in a faded parking space, and Sly turned off the
engine.  I held my breath, waiting to see what he was going to do next.
And what he did... well, I have to say that even I was surprised.

Sylvester "Sly" Maxwell, Formula 1 legend and the most macho man I'd ever
met besides Rex, began to cry.

He looked at Taine, then back at the steering wheel and pounded his hands
against it, then his arms, and finally his head as it sank to rest against
the top of the wheel.

"I know you miss her, Taine!" he practically howled through his tears.  "I
miss her TOO!  I miss her so much I can't think, I can't work, I can't even
fucking drive!"

His loud, raw voice filled the car with his grief and despair.

"I'm a driver," he whispered, looking at both Taine and me.  "Do you think
we would have had that accident if I could think straight?  I don't know if
I'll ever be able to race again."

His voice trailed off, and then he gently put a hand on Taine's leg.  Taine
flinched, but Sly gave him a reassuring squeeze and the sullen boy finally
returned his father's gaze.

"Taine," Sly rasped, "I know it's been hard for you.  I know I wasn't there
for you as much as I should have been.  For you or your mom.  But I love
you both more than I can ever say.  I always have, and I always will."

To say that Taine was gobsmacked would be an understatement.  He stared at
Sly with watering eyes, his mouth hanging open as if he was looking at
someone whom he had never met before.

"Listen," I said.  "Would you guys like some privacy?  I can take a
walk..."

"You stay right where you are," Sly said gently.  "I want you to hear this
too.  I'll tell you why in a minute."

"Yes, sir," I replied through the lump in my throat.  I was tearing up
again myself.

Sly turned his attention back to Taine, taking the surprised boy's face
tenderly in his large, rough hands.

"Taine, I was a shitty father for a long time.  I was traveling all the
time, I was never there when you or your mother needed me...  I was hiding.
I was hiding the same way your brother was hiding, because of little Patty.
After she died..."

He paused, choking up and fighting back what looked like an incipient
breakdown.  He sniffled it back roughly and continued, but his hands
continued to caress Taine's face.  His son was rapt with attention, and as
I watched my Babes discover his father, I saw the scared, small child that
he once must have been.

"After she died," Sly continued, "that house was a tomb.  You were
depressed, your mother was depressed, I was depressed... I just couldn't
take it.  I've never been good at dealing with my emotions, and I just
couldn't be there.  But I realized that I was leaving you all alone with
all of that.  It must have been so hard for you, Tainey, and I'm so, so
sorry.  And when Maggie died, I swore that I would never leave you alone
again... but I did, didn't I?"

Tears flowed freely from Taine's eyes as he slowly nodded his head in his
father's hands, his breath hitching in his chest.  They collapsed against
each other, Sly stroking Taine's hair and clutching him tightly to his
chest.  Taine didn't hug him back, just letting himself be held and finally
letting his tears fall on his father's shirt, as he had longed to do for
years.

I was, of course, an emotional disaster by this point, as I watched the
love come pouring from this tough, rugged man so tenderly and unashamedly.
I knew from my own background that Taine was lucky to have this man for a
father, and part of me was wrapped vicariously in his father's arms through
him.

Tears streamed from my eyes as heavily as from the man and the boy in the
front seats, and I was in awe of the beauty of this moment.

Sly held Taine in his arms for a long time, then pulled back slowly, never
removing his large, gentle left hand from the back of Taine's head.  And
that's when the celebrity racecar driver surprised me again.

He looked back at me and slid his right hand back to grasp my knee, firmly
but tenderly.  He regarded me with his wet, large bulldog eyes and they
were both sad and serious, the way Taine's eyes had been the previous
night.

"I wanted you to know, Rick," he rasped.  "I wanted you to know that I know
I've been a shitty father to Taine.  I wanted you to know why."

He took a deep breath and continued.

"I want to be back in Taine's life now.  I want to make up for everything I
missed, every minute he spent alone wishing his daddy would come home.  I
want to be there for him like a real father, a good father, should do.  I
want to love him and take care of him and protect him from everything bad,
everything scary, and everything sad."

I was nodding and crying and smiling and so was Taine, and it felt like the
most loving, wonderful moment I had ever experienced.  Then Sly's grip
tightened on my knee, ever so slightly.

He gave me a grim smile and said, "But I know I've got some competition
there, don't I?"

Oh holy Mother of Fuck, I thought.  This is where he kills me.

My eyes must have gone wide with shock and fear, because Sly started
laughing.

"Calm down, Rick, I drive Formula 1, not NASCAR," he chuckled, patting my
knee in reassurance.  "No, look, the reason I wanted you to hear all that
is so you don't think it's a competition.  Come here."

He beckoned me with his finger and I hesitantly leaned forward, still
expecting to be hit.  Instead, he wrapped his right hand gently around the
back of my head, as his left hand was wrapped around Taine's.

Sly stopped laughing and his face became serious again.

"Listen, Rick.  You were there for Taine with that psycho coach, and you
were there for him with Kevin Gorman.  What you did to that kid... you
brought down justice swiftly and without mercy against an older and much
bigger boy.  I respect that.  And you did that with such anger and fury
that I knew from that moment on that you loved my son as much as I do, and
that you will cross Hell or high water to protect him and keep him safe
just like I will."

I couldn't speak, but I nodded my head vigorously as his hand gently
massaged my neck.  I glanced up to see Taine's eyes still wide and
completely baffled by what he was seeing.

"And that's why I said it wasn't a competition," Sly said.  "I know Taine
loves you just as much as you love him, and I know you guys will look out
for each other at school.  But out of school... well, target practice or
not, I think you boys are in over your heads with this one.  And that's
where me and your dad come in."

My eyes widened.

"D... d... does Rex know about us?" I stuttered.  "Did you tell him?"

"I didn't have to tell him," Sly said.  "The guy commanded troops in two
wars.  You think you two invented this stuff?  He doesn't give a shit.  He
just wants you two to be safe, like I do.  So when you're out of school,
what I'm trying to say is to leave this to us.  We've got your backs."

Sly squeezed both of our necks, and Taine and I both reached over to hug
him, hugging each other as well.  We finally felt safe, accepted and loved.

Taine and I each pulled back and strapped in as Sly restarted the Lambo and
continued the short drive to Sizzler.  As he pulled into the parking lot,
he glanced at both of us and down at our hands, clasped together through
the space between the front seats.

"Listen, though," Sly said.  "Rick, I have met your adopted mom a couple of
times, and Rex and I talked about this a little. She shouldn't know about
two things: the two of you, and the note you found in your dog's mouth.
Can you guys keep those two things quiet around her?"

We both nodded enthusiastically.  The last thing either of us wanted was to
raise Tynah's fury.

"Good!" Sly exclaimed.  "Let's go eat!"

Sly draped one arm over each of us as he led us into the restaurant, and we
ate, laughed and plotted for over an hour.

Sly sat on one side of our booth, surrounded by plates of every size and
shape -- Jesus, that man could eat! -- and Taine and I sat together on the
other side, our hands clasped beneath the table, both of us finally feeling
as if we had a family.  We didn't see the shadowy figure outside as he
approached Sly's brand-new Lamborghini Countach.  But when we came outside
to the parking lot after dessert, we saw what he had done.

-----------------------------------

Chapter 23

I stood with Taine and Sly in the parking lot behind the Sizzler, where we
had just had a wonderful dinner following a very important conversation
about Sly's commitment to being a good father to Taine and his
acknowledgement and support of our relationship.  But none of the three of
us were smiling.

The reason for our sudden change of mood was Sly's cherry-red Lamborghini
Countach, which was sitting in front of us looking like it had been out in
the worst urban slum imaginable on an all-night bender.  All four tires
were slashed flat, the mirrors were broken, the windshield had been
shattered, and the glistening body had been covered with some of the
filthiest words in the English language in crude black spray-paint.

I looked shocked, Taine looked stricken, and Sly... well, he looked like he
could fight an army.  He didn't say a word, just went over to the car and
began inspecting it for damage.  Neither I nor Taine was about to break the
silence.

While Sly fumed, Taine came with me to the payphone to call Rex.  We
weren't going to be riding home in the Lambo that night, so we had to make
other arrangements.  I don't think any of us spoke until Rex's white Chevy
Nova pulled into the parking lot.  Rex didn't get out, but I saw his eyes
narrow as he surveyed the damage.  Sly shook Rex's hand as he got in the
passenger seat, and I knew he was doing his best to stay calm for Taine,
who sat behind me limply in the backseat, totally drained by the events of
the last two hours.

"Welp," said Rex, "they hit us, now they hit you, and now it's our turn
again.  Whod, you should probably stay over at Sly's house tonight."

Sly nodded his agreement.

"Okay," I said.

We rode in silence until we reached the Maxwell house.  Sly shook Rex's
hand again before looking back at us.

"You guys go inside and get some rest.  Don't forget the alarm codes.  Rex
and I are going to go back and... uh... get the car towed."

I didn't believe him.  I had a pretty good idea what Sly and Rex were up
to.

"Be careful," I said, as I led Taine from the car.

"We'll be careful," Rex grinned, but there was no humor in his eyes.

I nodded gravely as the Nova rolled backwards out of the driveway and took
off down the street.

-------------------------

Taine lay in my arms as I reclined on his soft, warm bed.  His breathing
was shallow, and growing more so as he rubbed his face sleepily into my
chest and tightened his grip on my side with his right arm, which was
curled around me like I was a pillow.

"Your shirt's really warm and soft," he mumbled.  "It's nice."

I stroked his hair absently as I stared up at the patterns my mind imagined
in the white stucco ceiling of his room.

His stereo was playing a typical Taine dirge.

	*White on white translucent black capes/
	Back on the rack*

I angled my face down and kissed him on top of his head, the cap sitting
jealously on the duvet next to me.

"You sleeping?" I asked softly.

"No," he whispered.  "I was just thinking"

"'bout what?"

"About how things always seem like they're getting better," he sighed,
digging the side of his face into my sweatshirt as if trying to crawl
inside me.  "And then they don't."

	*Bela Lugosi's dead/
	The bats have left the bell tower*

I raised up a little on the pillows in concern, hugging him closer to me.

"What do you mean, Babes?"

He threw his right leg over both of mine and squeezed me tight, struggling
with his words.  We lay there for a few minutes in silence, feeling each
other breathing, just being comforted by each other's presence and
closeness.

Finally, he raised his head and rested his chin on my chest.

"I'm sorry," he said, his eyes closed and his smooth, beautiful cheeks
slightly flushed.

	*The victims have been bled/
	Red velvet lines the black box*

"Sorry?  You've got nothing to be sorry for, my sweet, precious angel."

I took his face gently in my hands, as Sly had done in the car earlier.
Then I brought him forward a bit and bent my head to kiss him lightly on
each of his closed eyelids.  He was, to paraphrase Maupin, the kind of boy
who was meant to be kissed upon the eyes.

Taine smiled wanly, then laid his head back on my chest and hugged me tight
once again.

"I do," he said into my warm fleece sweatshirt, and then the words began to
tumble out, hard and fast: "Ever since you met me, I've brought you nothing
but trouble.  You got mixed up in that mess with Coach, you got in a car
accident, you got in a fight, you got suspended, your dog got murdered, and
now people want to kill you, kill your family..."

He began to sob, and I could only hold him close, speechless in the face of
his deep, dark well of guilt and self-loathing.

	*Bela Lugosi's dead/
	Bela Lugosi's dead*

"It's just me, Ricky!" he cried suddenly.  "And now Dad finally tells me he
loves me and his beautiful car gets trashed, destroyed... It's just me!
That's what I meant in that note.  Don't love me, Rick.  It will only hurt
you... over and over again, it will only hurt you."

"What?" I breathed.  "No, Taine.  No... that's not true.  None of that is
true..."

"It is," he insisted, burying his face in me again.  "Everything I touch
dies."

	*Undead undead undead/
	Undead undead undead*

I smirked, grasping both of his wrists and pulling him over me, then down
on the other side of the mattress, rolling until I was on top of him,
gazing down into his wide, startled eyes as I held his arms above his head.

"Is that what you think?" I asked in a fierce growl.

He nodded at me, tears still rolling from his eyes.

"Well, I'm going to prove that's not true," I said.

With that, I reached down and peeled off his t-shirt, sliding it up and
over his head and outstretched arms in a single, deft motion.

He looked up at me, startled.  We had never gone even this far before with
each other, and I think my boldness may have slightly alarmed him, breaking
his self-blaming reverie.

That was kind of the point, although certainly not the only point.

	*The virginal brides file past his tomb/
	Strewn with time's dead flowers*

I tossed his t-shirt aside and renewed my grip on his wrists, holding his
arms above his head and smiling hungrily at the sight of his pale armpits
and their silken axillary hair.  I let my eyes travel across the pale,
alabaster skin of his slender torso, Taine's large, pinkish-brown nipples
starting to rise in the cool air-conditioned room.  I was dizzied by his
flat, beautiful belly, with its downy treasure trail leading down to his
still-hidden sex.

I laid down on him until our faces were less than an inch apart.

"So, kill me," I whispered, and kissed him, passionately, my left hand
caressing his cheek, while my right still loosely gripped both of his
wrists above his head.  As I began to trail kisses and nibbles down his
slender neck, I released his wrists and let my fingers glide, lightly and
teasingly, down the soft skin of his inner left arm.

	*Bereft in deathly bloom/
	Alone in a darkened room*

I felt him begin to shiver as my lips brushed down his chest, my tongue
flicking down to his sensitive nipples, which I took in my mouth, sucking
and licking them each in turn until Taine moaned with ecstasy, raising his
hips and grinding our hardened cocks against each other as they strained at
the clothing which bound them.

"Mmm, Rick," Taine sighed, biting his lower lip and closing his eyes in
pleasure.

I raised myself briefly to remove my sweatshirt, dropping it on top of his
t-shirt and cap in the growing pile of clothing next to our gyrating hips.
I stood at the foot of Taine's bed, undoing the button and zipper of his
loose cargo pants and slipping them easily from his slender young body,
taking his boxers as well.

The sight before me was electrifying, causing me to exhale slowly in pure
wonder as I gazed upon Taine's beautiful, naked body, exposed to me
completely for the first time.  Everything about him was perfect,
simultaneously angelic and erotic.  I wished that I was an artist so that I
could paint the ultimate, sensual vision which presented itself in front of
me.

"You..." I whispered.  "You are beautiful."

I quickly removed my jeans, pulling down my white briefs and allowing my
throbbing cock to escape.  I was so hard, so excited by the first sight of
my lover, all of him, that I could barely breathe.  I forced myself to slow
down, placing a hand on each of Taine's slim, perfect ankles, then gently
sliding my palms up his smooth, slender legs as I lowered myself back to
the bed.

Showing remarkable restraint, I didn't go right for his erection, which --
like the rest of him -- was absolutely gorgeous and perfect.  I did, of
course, pause to admire it as it pulsed achingly against his abdomen, a
thin, pearly drop of fluid glistening at its silken tip.

Instead, I let my fingers trace the delicate bones of his hips, and the
curve of his slim, warm waist, lowering my lips to kiss his small, indented
navel and inhaling his faint but intoxicating musk.  I lingered, teasingly,
kissing and nuzzling his belly until he was almost bruising my neck with
his urgent, repeated upward thrusts.  Smiling, I raised my head from his
belly and stroked my hand slowly along his side as I turned my attention to
the place to which Taine was so insistently attempting to direct me.

As I took him gently in my mouth, I thought that maybe I was tasting
Heaven.

-----------------------------------

Thank you for reading Chapters 22 & 23.  To be continued...

"Bela Lugosi's Dead," written by Bauhaus. Performed by Bauhaus. c 1979 by
Small Wonder Records.

Once again, I'm always happy to hear from readers at DJAkeeba@aol.com.  You
have all been so supportive and encouraging, and I thank you all for your
e-mails, and there's plenty more of this story to come.

If you're enjoying this story and others on Nifty, please consider making a
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