Date: Wed, 13 Nov 2013 19:53:56 -0500
From: A Dark Phase <adarkphase@gmail.com>
Subject: Unwanted Things

Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction and contains explicit
homosexual content. By reading this material you affirm that you are acting
within the limits of your local laws and ordinances and wish to view such
material. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any
resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Unwanted Things

Darrell dropped his eyes.

Don't make eye contact, he thought frantically but then decided avoiding
the boy would only make the situation that much more uncomfortable.

If that's possible, he sighed to himself, giving the boy a weak smile and a
roll of his eyes. A kind of you-know-how-mothers-are kind of dismissal, but
the boy wasn't even looking at him. His eyes were fixed on the floor as
though he were trying to count each fiber in the carpet.

Walt was his name, though he'd never used it. He was a cousin, though
"cousin" was often used in Darrell's family when people just didn't feel
like doing the math. Darrell had probably only spoken about ten words in
total to the youth since he'd been born. He had nothing against him, of
course, it was just that they were both shy and awkward so conversation was
a miracle.

"She lets him do whatever," Darrell's mother continued, her voice carrying
easily into the living room from the kitchen where she and more of
Darrell's family were chewing over the latest savory gossip.

As Darrell figured it, at least among black families in the southeastern
United States, there was an inverse relationship between the distance of
one's neighbors and the amount of privacy one had. Completely
counterintuitive, it would seem, until you took into account there wasn't
much to do in the rural backwaters except to gossip.

Walt continued examining the floor, his face completely unreadable. Darrell
guess he probably was accustomed to being talked about, especially in a
negative light given that his entire life had been surrounded in scandal.

He was the product of a single, drug-addicted mother and a dealer who
supplied her fix. As far as anyone knew, their union had been a single
night. Sex, after all, wasn't really a difficult commodity to obtain. The
dealer had obviously required more, so Walt's mother had spent the first
few months after his birth bouncing in and out of jail for various
offenses. Shop-lifting, mostly, though there was probably more prostitution
in the mix as well.

Walt had turned a year old when his mother had vanished for two weeks, then
eventually turned up dead in an abandoned house. Overdose. No one was
shocked. Walt's grandparents had taken him in, though his grandfather had
his own problems with medication and his grandmother was good-natured but
too old to raise another child.

It didn't help matters that the drug dealer father had been white. Walt's
latte skin and the faint freckles on his nose was stigma that made him the
source of scorn in the family. It was a constant reminder of his beginnings
and without Walt's mother to bare the brunt of the family's disappointment,
they transferred it all to Walt.

Darrell didn't care. He knew what it was like to be an outcast, though his
brand wasn't so easily recognized.

"That's why she's in the hospital," he heard his aunt cluck. "Letting that
boy run the house."

Darrell felt a sweat forming on the back of his neck. He felt like he
should console the boy somehow but he was at a loss as to how to go about
doing it.

"So you got your driver's license yet," he finally said. His voice sounding
like a boom in the silence.

Walt just shook his head in the negative.

"Still got the learner's permit?"

Walt nodded.

God, this is painful, Darrell thought.

"I got this new game on my phone," he tried again, fishing out his
cellphone from his pocket and waving it at Walt like someone would do with
a chew toy for a dog. "It's kinda stupid but I like it."

"Yeah, I've played it," Walt said softly, his eyes raising but never
meeting Darrell's. "It's cool." A shrug of his shoulders with barely any
movement.

Walt's grandmother had been admitted to the hospital. Blood pressure, or
some equivalent. It had sparked a family intervention of sorts. Walt's
grandfather had gone senile (bat-shit is what one of his aunts called it),
and now with his only remaining caretaker incapacitated, Walt was a man
without a country.

"You got an apartment?" Walt asked, so softly Darrell almost didn't realize
the boy was talking to him.

"Uh no," he stammered. "Just a dorm." The silence returned and he struggled
not to lose the momentum. "Mostly only the seniors live off campus."

"Oh."

Darrell's mother appeared before them with hands on hips just dripping with
disapproval. She looked at Walt who refused her gaze, her eyes holding none
of the sympathy her gentle smile would seem to have portrayed.

"Go ahead and get your things, baby" she said proudly as if for the benefit
of any neighbors. "You'll have to stay here tonight."

The boy made no movement but Darrell was certain he felt the boy tense.

"You'll have to sleep in Darrell's room," she said with a huff, abandoning
the boy who would not look at her. She instead focused her attention on her
son and for a moment he felt her gaze still cold with the righteous
indignation she had hoped to beam into Walt's skull.

"I got no other place to put you," she said after a long breath.

Now it was Darrell's turn to feel awkward, a feeling that would stick with
him long through the remainder of the day. It wasn't until much later,
after dinner had been served and eaten, that the tension of the day began
to uncurl from the knot it had formed in his stomach.

Walt had taken the first opportunity to vanish after dinner, seemingly
gathering what few belongings he had thought to carry with him and
retreated to the bedroom.

Darrell let the boy have his space and stayed in the kitchen while he
listened to his mother cluck about the latest happenings. He allowed his
mind to drift as she spoke, only offering smiles and simple "uh-huh's"
whenever he noticed the silence had stretched on for too long.

The night outside had long since turned dark when his mother finally gave
him a peck on the forehead when it was time for bed. He gave her a warm
squeeze, then made his way upstairs.

Darrell rounded the corner to his bedroom and saw Walt had laid out his
blanket and pillow about as far as possible from the bed without embedding
himself into part of the far wall. The room was a strange layout, like a
narrow "L" so the bed had gobbled up most of the available floorspace.

He didn't let his surprise register on his face as he deposited his dirty
clothes in a pile by his closet. Maybe he shouldn't have been shocked that
Walt would be so uncomfortable with the sleeping arrangements. Maybe he was
just trying to be considerate and not crowd him, but it still made his jaw
set in annoyance. It was the kind of thing you'd do if you considered the
other person a predator and he was certainly not that.

Now that he was thoroughly ticked off, his unease dropped from him like a
stone. Fuck him then, Darrell thought.

"Mom turns the heat down low at night," he said, flicking the lights off so
the only illumination was the silver moonlight shining through the
window. "It's going to get really cold down there on the floor before
long."

"I'll be okay."

Darrell didn't bother hiding his chuckle. "Suit yourself."

He slipped under his covers, the chill already seeping through his cotton
pajama bottoms like an icy ooze. Walt flopped around trying to get
comfortable, his single blanket wrapped around him in true mummy style.

Darrell closed his eyes and tried to ignore the cold pinpricks against his
skin. It wouldn't be long before his body heat thawed his covers. He let
his mind drift to the sounds of the still house, Walt's irregular breathing
loud against the nightly silence.

It wasn't long before the cold melted away and his body uncurled, the
sounds of Walt's continued thrashing easily ignored now while entombed in
his warmth. The floor's not going to get more comfortable, he thought
sleepily, his annoyance only beginning to soften with fatigue.

The dreams that came were feverish. They rose up out of the blackness to
drag him under, filling his mind with frantic thoughts. He was running, or
at least trying to.  Though, despite the lactic acid burning in his
muscles, he didn't seem to be gaining much ground. The invisible ground
crunched under his labored footfalls. Snow perhaps, he thought, though the
world was still forming around him.

Something pursued him. He felt it. Felt its eye on his neck. It was
probably only inches away but he wouldn't dare turn around for fear it
would overtake him.

He struggled, groaning as his feet became prisoners of gravity. He grabbed
his useless legs and tried to lift them but the lead that had become his
bones was immovable.

At last he was breaking through ice, the frigid waters burning and coiling
around him like vipers.

He screamed out in his head, his thoughts as heavy as his limbs. It was so
difficult to focus. Something nagged at the back of his skull but he was
too panicked to sort it out. Darrell thrashed as he sank further into the
cold, never seeming to reach the end.

The idea that this was a dream tickled at his brain and he seized it with
all his might. He clenched his eyes and yanked on the idea but the cold was
still stinging him, though admittedly less so.

Warmth blushed against his face, the sound of breathing, and he swam out of
his haze.

His blanket was pulled up to his face, damp from his breathing, and
movement to his side drew his attention.

Walt.

Darrell blinked, still groggy from the dream.

Walt slid under the covers, dropping the bedspread down around him, and
finally sealed the cold air out.

"What's wrong," he whispered.

The moonlight was gone so only a vague outline of the boy could be seen,
though Darrell wasn't entirely confident the details his eyes were picking
out were much more than his imagination.

"Nothing. Just cold."

As Darrell clutched the covers to him, shivering, his foot grazed Darrell's
leg. The icy shock made Darrell curse. The boy was frozen.

"Give me your feet," he whispered, his irritation with the boy and the
I-told-you-so satisfaction not there when he looked for them.

Walt didn't protest or make a sound as he wriggled his feet under the
covers.

Darrell reach down and gathered Walt's feet and used them to lift up one
leg of his pajamas. He put the frozen blocks on his now exposed thigh,
clenching his jaw hard when the arctic pain lanced through his body.

Fuck, he cursed to himself.

It was several agonizing minutes before Walt began to thaw and Darrell's
muscles began to relax. Soon the pain was bearable and eventually he could
feel the boy's own heat driving away the winter.

He released the boy's feet from his grasp. His hands were sweaty now, he
thought with some disgust, but at least the boy seemed to have stopped
shivering.

"Thanks," Walt said meekly, his voice barely a whisper. There was
hesitation in it, or perhaps confusion.

Probably doesn't get many people doing things for him, Darrell thought.

"No problem," he said with as much levity as he could muster in the dead of
night. "I've got this spot pretty warm. You can scoot over some if you want
to get in it."

To his surprise, Walt slid over wordlessly, so near that the hairs on their
arms touched. He suddenly became self-conscious of everything. How his own
breathing didn't sound exactly right. Too fast. Or how his mouth tasted
thick and sour while the smell of Walt's skin made him think of vanilla
beans.

His heart was beating loudly in his ears and his ears felt hot when he
thought he saw Walt looking at him. It was too dark to tell for sure. Walt
was on his side, one arm tucked under his head and in the darkness
Darrell's eyes made kaleidoscopic images out of the shadows.

"I know it's hard not having anyone to talk to," he said quietly after the
silence was too great. "I never really had anyone to talk to growing up so
I know what it's like."

Walt shifted, uncurled slightly as his body thawed. "I guess," he sighed
whether out of sadness or sleepiness it was hard to decide.

"You got a girlfriend?"

"Not really. You?"

"Nah," Darrell gave a chuckle despite himself, which Walt picked up on
immediately.

"Ever had one?"

Darrell felt his tongue grow thick and his mind raced to try to find a good
answer. Something innocent that wouldn't reveal too much. He didn't want to
lie to the boy, but neither did he want to share his secrets with someone
he barely knew.

But the seconds it took for him to mull over his response was telling
enough.

"You gay?"

His ears burned as his face flushed red. Now what, he thought. Fuck!

"It doesn't matter," Walt said finally with a soft yawn.

So that was it, Darrell thought. Two minutes and this kid had figured him
out like nobody else had. Or maybe they had, but had never let it be
known. He felt exposed and frightened when he realized for the first time
in his life the information was out of his control.

Walt rolled over onto his back and settled in. It was not long before the
boy was asleep, something that took Darrell much longer to accomplished.

The next time he woke, he had the feeling he had been asleep for hours, but
the night was still inky and the cold still swirled around any exposed
flesh. Walt was pressed into his side, his face somewhere near his neck so
he could feel the warm breath against his skin, his hands seemingly tucked
under his cheek. His own hands were by his side as he lay on his back, the
flannel of Walt's pajama bottoms just touching his fingers.

The nearness of his hands to the boy suddenly made his blood burn and his
dick started to swell despite his protest. It unwound and strained at his
pants, his whole body now tingling with anticipation.

He moved his hand imperceptibly, as if by a muscle twitch, and felt Walt's
own dick push back through the fabric.

Darrell tried to steel his thoughts and will the blood out of his
dick. "Enough," he thought. "You've touched it now just go back to sleep."

Three beats later, he let his fingers spasm again, moving closer to what
felt like Walt's own erection. He could almost imagine the heat from it as
if it was its own energy source. It was then that he realized Walt's
breathing had changed against his neck.

He froze.

Walt shifted, his arms moving from beneath himself and Darrell heard fabric
moving, giving way finally to a shallow sigh as Walt seemingly fell back to
sleep. His blood drummed in his ears as his body screamed at him to move
against the fear.

Another inch of his fingers toward the slumbering boy, the sheets under his
fingers warm and damp with his anxiety. Soft skin brushed against his, the
familiar tease of pubic hair against his knuckles.

Oh fuck, he thought.

Emboldened, his cast off his pretext and slide his fingers around the
exposed cock, fully engorged and radiating heat. Walt's hips instinctively
arched, pushing more of his dick into Darrell's grip.

Darrell rolled onto his side without missing a stroke and used his other
hands to grip Walt's balls, his fear gone and in its place a primal
lust. Walt bucked harder, puffing out soft curses every so often.  He was
stroking hard now with a rigid grip and deep thrusts that were fueled by
Walt's moans.

He was startled to feel his own body being explored with hands as Walt
clumsily dug under his shirt to grip his stomach. The boys fingers were
like live wires, flicking franticly over his body as though they were
overloading. His hand dove down, roughly plunging into Darrell's pants and
grabbing his dick with such brutality that Darrell let out a grunt of
surprise.

His recovery was swift and his stroke barely wavered as Walt finally
started to caress his shaft. His dick was stiff and wet with pre-cum
already.

"Let me fuck you," Walter whispered urgently.

"Uh, what?"

Darrell felt all at once dizzy. It was all happening so fast he felt his
thoughts were slow to keep up. The boy was all raw need and impatience.

No foreplay.

No emotion.

Just primitive desire.

He was still debating the proposition when the boy push him onto his
side. "Wait," he whispered, not sure whether he meant it or not.

Walt ignored the protest and continued to push Darrell's shoulder until he
was fully in a prone position. Without hesitation, he mounted his cousin
clumsily in the dark. Their covers jerked and tugged, cold rivulets of air
rushed in and stinging their exposed skin.

Walt's dick was solid and desperate as it slid across Darrell's ass trying
to take root.

"Wait," he said again, this time knowing he didn't mean it.

Walt's inexperience shown through as he tried to impale Darrell
immediately, stabbing around his hole with his dick like machine-gun fire.

Darrell grunted and pressed hard against Walt's bare chest. He found enough
saliva to form a decent pool in his other hand and reached back to prepare
his hole for the onslaught.

What the fuck am I doing? He thought when the warm liquid touched his anus.

Walt hacked up his own spit and applied it to the tip of his cock, an act
that Darrell appreciated. He hadn't been a bottom in quite a while, so he
wasn't sure that so little lubrication was going to work on him, but every
little bit helped.

Darrell lowered the arm that still restrained the boy and tried to relax
without anticipating the pain that would follow.

Walt leaned in, his fist grabbing his dick as he aimed for what he hoped to
be his target. Darrell felt the tip brush his hole and start to sink in. He
released his breath as Walt lay into him in what felt like a time-lapse
free fall.

The boy was oozing pre-cum by the buckets, Darrell felt, and there was no
resistance left to keep the shaft from burying deep into him.

He moaned, filled with a surprise that the penetration had been so much
easier than his other sexual encounters. He wasn't sure if it was because
of the boy's pre-cum or size, but he welcomed the relief.  Walt's arms
snaked under him as he drew Darrell's body to him, his hands hooking around
his cousin's shoulders. Darrell pushed off from the bed to maximize their
contact and Walt began to rock.

"Damn," Walt cursed, experimenting with each thrust.

Darrell sank his face into the pillow and experienced the slow drag of the
boy's dick against his walls. He pushed back in step, enjoying the way
their bodies collided. It had been too long since he had shared such
intimacy with another person. Now he remembered how satisfying it could be.

"Oh shit," Walt whispered suddenly, his voice panicked.

Darrell was about to ask what was wrong when he felt a spreading warmth
flow through his bowels. He hugged the pillow and gripped his sphincter
around Walt's softening cock.

"I'm sorry," Walt said softly, his face unreadable in the darkness, but
Darrell knew the shame of a first fuck. He knew youths thought sex lasted
hours like the porn stars they watched.

"It was great," Darrel said quietly, turning over to look at the faint
outline of the boy's face.

He felt, rather than saw, Walt brighten at that.  "Yeah."

The boy collapsed next to him, their contact now oddly awkward.

"I'm not gay," the boy said at last, soft as if he were talking into his
pillow.

"I know," he answered, remembering his own youth which now suddenly seemed
distant.

Walt stayed still and silent for another heartbeat, then turned wordlessly
on his side and settled back into sleep.

Darrell cupped his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, the wintery
bite now welcome against his sweat.



The End