Date: Sun, 22 Dec 2002 20:05:39 -0800 (PST) From: D.Z. Subject: Boys in School 18 DAVID & TRISTAN-BOYS IN SCHOOL is a continuation of the story, Boys on the Farm, about two teen boys named David and Tristan. It is a story of discovery...what the boys learn about life, about themselves, and what it means to be gay. If sex between male teenagers is offensive to you or if you are underage then you should move on to something else. DAVID & TRISTAN--BOYS IN SCHOOL is a work of pure fiction -- the characters and the events do not represent any person or situation. Copyright (c)2002 by D.Z., all rights reserved. You may contact me by emailing ndman72@yahoo.com. PREFACE: Being gay is not easy for many of us--the world out there can be extremely cruel yet there are those people who are compassionate and supportive towards gay guys. The author of the following email is one of those people and I feel privileged to have made her acquaintance. This is what Ashley had to say: "The gay pre-teen, or teen or even adult, has a lonely life. To be outed is like a death sentence to most. (Possible beatings, being taunted, loss of family, loss of everything and anything you hold dear; like an alien, to be found out, they'd rip you to shreds.) I have seen, up close and personal, the agony of each. I've seen the tears and shared in the hidden sorrow, sorrow so damn deep that it shakes you to your core. I have personally removed fingers from the trigger of a gun. Steve, a friend of mine, was outed as a joke. He tried to stop the hurt with a permanent solution to a fixable problem. Then, I had a cousin who was gay. As a child he was so very different than the other little boys. They called him 'sissy', 'pretty boy', lots of mean stuff. His asshole of a dad (my uncle) was always hitting him, trying to "toughen the pansy up." I used to feel such rage that my whole little body would just burn with the desire to kick his ass! I would play with my cousin, and beat the crap out of any of the other cousins that picked on him. He was beautiful. He had long black lashes, pretty blonde hair, and was slender. He was just an amazing kid! Smart, straight A student, never an unkind word to anyone. So much to offer, amazing artist, spectacular human being, one of God's angels, fell to Earth. I'll bet (if he'd lived) Aaron would have grown up to be an awesome male model. But, his young life was cut short. See, he and some other gay youths decided to run away to California from Missouri. He thought that maybe there he'd be accepted, be loved, find love. A drunk driver took him away from me...forever. He was 13, when he left this Earth. I had gay friends in school, I saw the agony they put up with. The fear of the dreaded Gym showers was real. That shit and more is REAL. Jocks can be so very, very, cruel. Swirlies, showers with clothes on, torn homework, scratched up cars and written on lockers are all real. And man, the girls! The way some of those bitches acted! Many a time I got into fights, cause someone had dissed Galen or George. I was called 'fag hag' just cause I was their friend. But, ya know what? I just didn't give a fuck. They were MY friends. I did not care about their sexual preference--to me, they were my 'buds'. They gave me awesome advice and some of it to this very day I still remember. They loved me no matter what. I was the 'new kid in school', an even more dreaded title. Heh, they even taught me how to really kiss. (dirty minds! Lol I watched them!..heh, they are probably the reason watching guys makes me soo hot!)...and I learned more from them about sex, than ANY of my female friends...They were NOT shy.. They had something to say? you were gonna listen. Galen was white, and George was black. They were young, cute as hell, and, deeply in love. I don't know what happened to them after HS, but next year is one of our many HS reunions. I'm hoping they'll still remember me because I'll NEVER forget them. And I'm also hoping that they are still together." Thank you, Ashley, for being a true friend. The timing of her email was perfect because in this chapter we will see one of our boys run into serious trouble since he is gay. Which one, you ask? Well, for the answer to that you will have to read this chapter for yourself. But remember, there are those out there who do care for each one of us and see us as people first, and then only after as guys who also happen to be gay. When we find friends like those, we need to treasure them because they are as rare and precious as gold. My good friend Hobbs has recently had that experience and I rejoice for him. OK, enough of my preaching. Here's what I promised to have for you before Christmas 2002, Chapter 18. Enjoy and may the blessings of the holiday season be yours this year and always. CHAPTER 18: WILL LOVE WIN? OR WILL HATE? David and Tristan stared in total shock at Jimmy standing naked in David's closet with his right hand cupped around the end of his 3 1/2 inch stiffy. "What do you think you were doing spying on me and Tristan like that," David hissed at him furiously. "And so now I'm fucked. Just fucked," he said bitterly as he looked down at the floor. Jimmy couldn't help it. He had to giggle. David was right. He had just seen David get fucked by that huge cock of Tristan's. "What are you laughing at pecker head?" David demanded angrily, glaring at Jimmy. "Yeah, I know you got fucked. I saw it," he said and then giggled again in sheer wonderment from his first ever orgasm as well as the incredible sight of seeing his older brother taking Tristan's huge cock up his butt. What's more, David obviously enjoyed it a lot! David snatched a towel from the floor and threw it at Jimmy when he saw Jimmy's cum dripping through his fingers. "Wipe yourself off with that before you drip all over," David commanded. "Here," Tristan said quietly, handing David the towel he just used to wipe his prodigious manhood with. "You probably want to use this too." David snatched the towel away and dabbed at his rear all the while glaring at Jimmy. "Now what do we do?" he nearly moaned in despair to Tristan. "My dad will throw my ass out for good if he has any hint of this. You know that don't you?" David glared at Jimmy afresh. Looking up from wiping the cum off from his hand and his uncut boy dick, Jimmy's eyes widened. "Yeah, he would too. I hadn't thought of that," he admitted. "Did you really like doing that?" he asked David, piercing him with a look of youthful innocence. David blushed bright red. "What did it look like?" he growled peevishly. "Like you did, that's what. I guess that means you're gay, doesn't it?" he asked artlessly, looking over at his big brother standing there totally naked in front of him. Helplessly David threw an anguished glance over at Tristan while sitting on the bed abruptly before his knees gave way. After a moment's silence David looked up at Jimmy to answer, "I dunno, I guess so, at least as far as Tristan is concerned I am." "You know how bad Dad hates gays so why did you choose to be gay?" Jimmy asked with his usual forthrightness. "I didn't just choose to be gay, Jimmy," David said looking down and shaking his head negatively while propping his hands on his knees. "And I'm not gay, I'm bi." "I don't get it," Jimmy said. "What you guys did was pretty gay if you ask me." "Who made you the expert?" David snapped back at him. "You hardly have any hair over your dick and now you're the expert?" Jimmy stood there and blushed before saying defensively, "Well, all I have to do is say something to Dad and you're in big trouble." "Jimmy, don't do that," Tristan stepped into the conversation as he reached over and pulled Jimmy to sit on the bed between him and David. "We gotta talk about this here so you understand things. Has anyone ever talked to you about sex stuff before?" "Um, no," Jimmy confessed still blushing. "Well, I bet you have lots of questions. You were jacking off while you watched us and it sounds like this is all still pretty new to you," Tristan said as he put his arm over Jimmy's shoulders. Jimmy's head swiveled between David and Tristan, taking in their unconcern for their nakedness and their apparent acceptance of his own nudity. Being naked with them made him feel strangely excited and definitely more mature. "Um, yeah, maybe a couple," he admitted. "So go ahead and ask," Tristan encouraged. "We'll tell you everything you want to know." "Not everything, Tristan," David interjected. "We don't have anything more to hide from Jimmy, Babe," Tristan reminded David. "Besides, don't you remember how you wished you had someone to answer your questions when you first figured out what else your dick was for?" Jimmy giggled upon hearing that before he answered, "Yeah, it's pretty cool." "Jimmy, have you been jacking off very long?" Tristan asked. Jimmy blushed bright red at that and answered almost inaudibly. "No, this was my first time that anything ever came out. It felt like I had to pee only way more. Is that white stuff cum?" "Yeah," David answered. "That's what it's called." "Oh wow, this your first time ever?" Tristan gasped. "Um, yeah." David turned to look over at Jimmy, "Feels good, doesn't it?" "Yeaaaaah," Jimmy sighed blissfully. "And I bet I could do it again. Look, it's getting big again," he said as he looked down to see his dick sticking up straight out of his lap. "But it isn't as big as yours, David, and no where near Tristan's. Doesn't it hurt to have that big dick of his up your butt?" he asked David bluntly. It was David's turn to blush before answering softly, "Um, at first it did but then after a while it just feels awesome and when he hits the magic button inside it makes me wish he would never quit." "A magic button? You have this magic button in there? Do I?" Jimmy asked in amazement. "Yeah," Tristan answered. "Every guy has one but straight guys hardly ever find out about it." "Well, yeah, it's kinda gross isn't it, putting your dick in there?" Jimmy inquired. "Well maybe at first it seems that way, but Jimmy, once you've felt what it's like to do it, you don't think about that part since you know how wonderful it is," Tristan assured the younger boy. "I dunno. I don't get it. Does jerking off make you gay? Am I gay now?" Jimmy asked nervously. Tristan laughed softly. "No, Jimmy, jerking off doesn't make you gay. Every guy in the world would be gay if jerking off makes you gay." Jimmy frowned. "So what made you gay then?" "I don't know for sure," Tristan said tentatively. "I just remember that boys always were more appealing to me and when I with your brother so much this summer, he just was too much to resist." "Oh." Jimmy turned to David then. "So did Tristan make you gay?" David was trapped. "God, you are full of questions, aren't you?" he growled. "You guys said you'd answer my questions," Jimmy said in a hurt tone as his face turned downcast. "Yeah, so tell him David," Tristan urged. He wanted to hear what David had to say about that too. David shot Tristan a look over Jimmy's head that let Tristan know David was feeling the pressure. "Um, no Tristan didn't make me 'gay', Jimmy. Tristan gives me what I need and when we're together I'm happy. But I told you I'm bi, Jimmy, and that means girls are OK for me too. But Tristan got me first. Can you understand that?" "I guess. But how do you know if you are gay then?" Jimmy asked with a puzzled frown. "Oh man," David groaned. "I don't know how to answer him, Tris." Tristan gave David a little smile of reassurance before looking into Jimmy's blue eyes, which were a younger version of David's. "Well Jimmy, there are lots of things that will tell you whether or not you are gay. Sometimes you see a guy who does something to you inside and it makes your stomach feel funny or it takes your breath away. Or maybe your dreams will tell you. If you start having dreams at night about a boy that involves sex, that's another good clue. But as far as I know, your dick is the best clue. If seeing naked boys makes you hard and girls don't do that for you, then it's a sure thing you are gay. Your dick knows and will tell you, Jimmy, if you listen to it. Mine did." "So did it with David?" Jimmy asked with wide-open eyes. Tristan laughed. "Oh yeah, it sure did. All I would have to do is get close to him and I would pop a boner. When I went out to the farm with him I was scared to death because I knew it would happen and he would see it. And all the time I was afraid he would hate me for it." David leaned over and punched Tristan in the shoulder as he exclaimed, "You never told me that before, you dork!" "Well you know now," Tristan said back to him over Jimmy's head. "Besides, you know you were irresistible to me." "Were?" David asked with arched eyebrows. Jimmy started giggling again. He couldn't believe the talk he was hearing as he sat between the two older boys who were lovers despite all the bad things he had heard from his dad about gays. Tristan gave a meaningful glance over at Jimmy before answering, "Were, am, and always will be forever, Babe." "Are you two going to kiss now?" Jimmy asked guilelessly and a little breathlessly. "No!" David said forcefully. "I think you watched us enough. Way too much for that matter." He regarded his younger brother for a moment and then asked with a nervous gulp, "So Jimmy, we answered your questions. Now I have one. What are you going to do? Are you going to tell Dad on me?" "Well, I dunno," Jimmy drawled as he wrestled with the concept of doing what he thought his dad would expect as opposed to keeping David's secret, which he had been taught was entirely wrong and sinful. David began to threaten as he began to perspire nervously. "Jimmy, if you tell on me I'm going to tell Dad you were spying on me and jerking off." Jimmy lifted his haunted blue eyes up to meet David's. "What if I'm gay, David? Did ya ever stop to think about that, huh?" David's head jerked back abruptly with shock as the import of those words hit him. "Whoa...," he uttered in pure astonishment. "Are you sure?" came out of his mouth automatically. Jimmy shrugged. "No, I dunno for sure. I feel kinda mixed up. But maybe I could talk to you and Tristan about it again sometime when I have a question?" he asked earnestly. Tristan gave Jimmy's shoulders a squeeze, "Yeah Jimmy, you can talk to us anytime, right David?" "Uh, yeah," came David's cautious reply. "You promise?" Jimmy demanded of him. David rolled his eyes slightly. "Yeah, I promise." Jimmy swiveled around to look at Tristan. "And you promise?" "Yup, I promise," Tristan smiled at him. "Good. Thanks you guys!" Jimmy smiled back at Tristan and then over at David. "Um, Jimmy, you better get your clothes and head to your room before Mom finds you in here," David hinted. Jimmy gave a guilty start, realizing afresh that he sat there on David's bed stark naked, something he had completely forgotten about as their discussion on sexual topics absorbed his attention. He flew into the closet, grabbed up his clothes before tugging his briefs on as David and Tristan watched his cute little buns disappear. "Night Jimmy," Tristan said to the younger boy. "Sleep good." "Yeah, night Jimmy. And remember, not a word to anyone," David warned. "Yeah, yeah David. Don't have a hernia over it. I'll keep your secret. Night," and then he slipped out of the room. David got up to relock the door immediately after Jimmy left before coming back to sit next to Tristan. "God Tris, what next? My dad will kill me if Jimmy tells on me." "He'd better not, David. And just remember, you always can come and live with me if he does. Then you can live where you don't have to hide your feelings." "I know Tris, but it won't be good if it happens. Tris, just hold me will you?" David asked in one of his few times of admitted vulnerability. They laid down in David's bed together and held each other with legs intertwined. Tristan's fingers traced their soothing magic on David's features as they whispered back and forth words of love and reassurance late into the night, trading occasional kisses as they talked away David's fears. ****************** Approximately the same time David and Tristan were having their talk with Jimmy, Sean was out in the front room watching TV while he waited for Craig to return. There had been another emergency call for Craig to assess some kid who had landed his ass in trouble. And evidently the kid was admittedly gay. Social services had come to view Craig as their expert who would take on that type of placement. Sean fretted to himself while he stared absently at the television. He hated being left alone in Craig's house. It was too quiet, too dark, and it was then that being out of the home he had grown up in really bothered him. The back door opened, smacking against the wall with a dull bang. Craig was showing someone into the house. "Shit," he cussed to himself. He had jumped inches off the couch before finally realizing that Craig had brought that trouble home with him. Craig's footsteps clopped down the hall as he walked into the front room. "Oh good. Sean, I'd like you to meet someone who will be staying here as another placement. His name is Brian." Out from behind Craig stepped a tall, dark haired guy who looked to be at least seventeen. Sean's chest tightened as he looked on. Brian's jeans were well- fitted and accentuated his slender build and the bulge of his groin. To say that Brian was hot was a massive understatement. His wide, hazel eyes gleamed into Sean's from under a thick film of lashes. They looked each other over. Sean couldn't tear his eyes away from him. His attitude and his looks exuded a smoky, raw sexuality and made Sean yearn for him. Brian's subtle glance settled upon the boy on the couch. He cocked an eyebrow when Sean continued to stare, enthralled by the masculine beauty emanating from him. Sean had instantly developed a boiling sense of desire. And Brian knew it. "If you two would shake hands, then we can get Brian settled into his room in the basement," Craig prompted. Sean's face flushed with a combination of lust and embarrassment. His thickening shaft caused him to remain seated on the couch and he simply stuck out his hand to shake. Brian rolled his eyes, took one step forward and accepted the offer. His grip lingered as he locked eyes with Sean and recognized the look of lustful longing within them. Sean's lips parted. "OK, I'll show you where you'll be staying," Craig was oblivious as his words snapped the sexual tension in half like a pair of pliers to barbed wire. He continued on with his attempt to settle Brian in. Sean let them go to the basement as he pulled himself together and struggled to douse the roaring fires of desire Brian had ignited. He walked briskly to his room and shut the door, leaning against it and sucking in all the air he could manage to satisfy his heaving lungs. It did nothing to satisfy the ache in his groin as he mentally reviewed every feature of Brian's body. He closed his eyes and speculated on the parts of Brian that he hadn't been able to see -- the mental images of the older, mature boy's body, fully bared in his mind, only intensified his sexual longings. It had been days since he last jerked himself off and his balls were aching with a pent up need. However, Sean didn't dare do anything until much later because of Craig and forced his boiling energy to convert into studying skills for a history exam. Only when Craig had gone to bed after his usual habit of sticking his head in the door to say goodnight did Sean prepare for bed himself. He changed into his nightwear, a small T-shirt and pj bottoms, before going to the bathroom. There he emptied his bladder and quickly brushed his teeth. Opening the door, a blinding cast of light streamed out of the bathroom and into the hallway before he snapped it off. He stepped into the darkness and immediately wished he'd kept the light on. His peripheral vision caught sight of a looming figure in the dark shadows, forcing his breath to cease in his throat. Flashes of terror struck his memory as an image of his father waiting for him in the dark appeared. Sean nearly screamed. "Scared?" relief flooded. It was Brian. His moves were slow, as he slunk forward with cat-like motions while his eyes never blinked or broke contact from Sean's gaze. He could see the shimmering gleam of his gleaming hazel eyes through the pale darkness of the hallway. "Um, yeah," Sean fought for his voice. "What are you doing up here?" "I thought we could make a better acquaintance," his tone was low and husky, yet it filled Sean's head like the never-ending echo of a man yelling from the top of a mountain. The teen's relief from his fright was short-lived as Brian moved to push him against the wall, their crotches pressed firmly together. "You like what you see, don't you?" he growled. "You want me," the words came out slow, each one with emphasis. Sean's heart leapt back into his throat as Brian ground his crotch firmly to his own and pressed his hands against the wall above his head. A cry escaped his burning lips before he could muffle it. He began to whimper with the fear and crude lust that coursed through him. Sean squirmed beneath the larger male. Brian drew away, his face hovering near the smooth and slender neck before him. He leaned closer and inhaled the sweet scent. "Mmm," he hummed. "A virgin." His breath coming in small pants, Sean gasped out, "How can you tell?" "It's easy. Only a virgin would be as innocent as you." He licked the main vein of Sean's neck. "But you won't be a virgin much longer, will you?" Brian stated in a low murmur. Sean sighed and his head dropped backward as Brian lunged once more, his lips fastened upon the soft flesh of his neck. He could feel the suction of Brian's burning cinnamon-red lips against him, marking him as his own. And it was only then that Brian pulled Sean into his bedroom, a cat that'd captured its prey, and closed the door. Sean turned back around in time to see Brian press the lock on the doorknob. The click that sounded was small, yet it was the loudest, most definite thing Sean would ever hear in his life. "Strip," Brian growled. "I want to see you." His hands trembled, whether from nerves or excitement Sean didn't know. But he moved to obey, lifting his T-shirt over his head. Brian sat down on the bed, and shifted himself backwards until he rested comfortably against the headboard. He watched with lazy eyes, eyeing the naked torso in front of him before gesturing silently for the pj bottoms to come off. Only after casting a nervous glance at Brian's impassive face did Sean lift his waistband away from his rock hard dick and slowly slide it down his thighs. His cock stood straight up, throbbing visibly and harder than he ever remembered. Stepping out of his pants he waited, watching for some sign of disgust or rejection. Again Brian looked him up and down, taking in the sight of the naked 15 year old boy that stood before him. He cocked his head to the left. "Come here." Almost as if against his will, Sean moved towards the bed and Brian to stand in front of him, displaying everything he had. Minutes seemed to tick by as he stood there in the silence, waiting for something. Suddenly, as if a spur of the moment idea occurred to him, Brian reached out with his right hand and cradled Sean's sack, rolling his balls slightly as he looked down to see a ribbon of precum ooze from his leaking cock. Sean was truly trapped. A squeeze of that right hand would put him to his knees, but at that moment it was the most intensely exciting thing he had ever felt. Brian leaned over to lick up the clear fluid. Sean's knees about buckled as the warm, wet tongue brushed his overly sensitized cock head. "Uhhhh," he moaned. He almost lost it when Brian gave a quick suck to extract all the juice he could before releasing his cock from his swollen lips. Sean could feel the strange cool wetness Brian left on his cock, as he still stood there naked, waiting for the man's further instructions. Jerking his head, Brian indicated the bed and said, "What are you waiting for?" Sean moved towards the other side to comply and slipped beneath the cool sheets. Tugging his shirt over his head, Brian inched his pants down and reached to flip the lights off in one smooth motion. Tossing his pants out from under the sheets, he turned and reached for Sean, pulling him close. By the dim light that filtered in through the window Sean peered deeply into Brian's alluring eyes. The older boy's captivating gaze kindled a fire that could not be denied in Sean's adolescent body. Their skin felt hot against one another, and then he felt it. The heat of Brian's erection seared into him and he gasped. Brian's pink tongue snuck out between his luscious lips and trailed a path of moisture along Sean's collarbone. The contrast between the heat below and the cool wetness of Brian's tongue made Sean shiver. His hips lifted of their own accord, and his arms clung to the broad chest that moved over him. Sean was quick to wrap his legs around the slim hips that thrust on top of him. He could feel the heat from Brian's cock as it moved over his genitals before they meshed side by side. Large hands traveled down the small sides of his body and rested below to cup his ass. He couldn't help but moan with desire as his legs lifted even higher over Brian's back. Brian moved lower and with a swift movement, found the mark he was searching for, Sean's virgin hole. Resting on one hand, Brian quietly spit a gob of saliva into his right and quickly used it to moisten his cock. Lining himself up, he found his mark and pushed against Sean's pucker. It felt like Brian was trying to shove a pole up his bottom, yet he wanted it all. Brian then pressed inwards once more and this time something gave. Sean felt him enter. A burning sensation filled his ass, making him gasp from the pain. He rested his head against the plush pillow beneath him and concentrated on breathing. His eyes closed tightly like a bolted door and he bit his lip, breathing fiercely through his nostrils. Centimeter by centimeter Brian sunk in deeper while Sean willed himself to relax and the pain to go away. It took an eternity for Brian to stop moving in. He was stuffed full of every one of Brian's seven inches and Sean could swear that it felt like twelve. He felt the tickling sensation of Brian's pubes against his no longer virgin ass. Sean gripped his muscular shoulder, whimpering and grunting with the tight pain that seared into him. With an unexpected patience, Brian waited for Sean's breathing to quiet and for him to adjust to being stretched open. Finally, his breathing slowed and he relaxed, allowing his ass muscles to unclench. And then it began. Brian started to pull out as slowly as he'd first entered the taut rosebud. Blazing pleasures rippled up his cock and skipped through his entire body and he let out a long, deep moan. Meanwhile, Sean felt as though the entireties of his insides were being sucked out with a vacuum. He moaned in pain and attempted to sit up, but his rising torso was met by Brian's palm and he firmly pressed him back down to the bed. "Relax," they looked into each other's eyes as Brian drawled that one word out. He snaked his tongue out and ran it along Sean's lower lip. Eventually, Brian's everlasting slow strokes inside of him brought nerves to life that Sean never imagined existed. His breath escaped his lungs each time Brian thrust slowly inside of him. His nails raked up the defined shoulder blades with each movement Brian made and he groaned loudly into his neck while his heels traveled up and down Brian's back. "You like that Sean? You like being fucked?" Sean answered with a strained groan as his chute throbbed and convulsed around Brian's shaft. They settled into a rhythm, Brian making long thrusts, then short ones and Sean, wanting it to never end, met each one with his plunging hips. Strangled cries erupted within him and he wanted nothing more than to scream at the top of his lungs. "Say it," Brian encouraged in a husky whisper. "Say it!" "Brian! Fuck me," Sean began to gasp as a white-hot fire ignited deep within him. The sounds of their skin slapping together echoed throughout the room as Sean's cries of passion mounted with the loudness of Brian's grunts. And then it happened. Sean's world turned to one of indescribable orgasmic release. His vision turned to a kaleidoscope of colors while his cock loosed streams of cum like never before. His chute convulsed against Brian's proud manhood, bringing him to his own lunging orgasm. Brian pumped his seed as deep into Sean as he possibly could, rocketing shot after shot of his cum into the flushed ass. Brian fell forward onto Sean, their sweat and dripping cum mingling while their hearts raced. The smaller boy lay there gasping while Brian softly kissed his neck and face. It took him several minutes for his breathing to slow, all the while soaking up the attention and kisses Brian was ministering. Finally Sean lifted his head and kissed Brian back, their lips meeting for only the second time. This was an entirely different kiss from the first one, which had been hot and urgent, sending Sean reeling into a torrent of sexual craze. This one was tender and it satiated him in an entirely different way. Minutes passed while the two boys laid there in their post-orgasmic lassitude. As though a sudden thought had occurred to him, Brian slid out of the bed and stood. He paused at the door before he strode out and away from the darkness that lurked behind. Sean lay awake, his ass a throbbing reminder of the passion that had just occurred in his young life. Sleep did not come so easily that night. It was much too soon for the alarm clock to be going off and with an irritable groan Sean slapped it into silence. He gingerly crawled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom where he welcomed the thundering flow of hot water upon his body. After cleansing his upper body, he soaped his relaxed dick and plump balls, enjoying the memory of his initiation into manhood. It wasn't until the foaming cloth reached his ass that Sean discovered how tender he had become. His face turned into an array of pained expressions as he dabbed carefully at his hole. His hands soon discarded the washcloth, curious to discover what losing his cherry had done to him. The moistened hole felt swollen and raw, causing him to cringe whenever his soft fingertips pressed against it. Sean shrugged his shoulders and grinned in the happy stream of the shower, not caring what damage had been caused. Anything to do with Brian was well worth it. He contentedly spun the shower handle to off and hopped out. He dried himself, wrapped the towel around him and went to get dressed. He threw on some clothes, made his bed and walked out to the kitchen with a grin tugging at his lips. "Good morning to you Sunshine," Craig greeted him. "You look to be in a good mood this morning," he continued, smiling at the boy, immediately noticing the fresh bruises on his neck. "Yeah, I guess so," Sean mumbled before asking, "Is Brian up yet?" "No, I've called him twice and he's not stirring yet. Do you want to go wake him and tell him he'll miss breakfast if he doesn't get moving soon?" Sean said "OK," blushed, and ducked his head shyly before swiftly moving down the stairs. The door to Brian's door was closed and so Sean knocked before calling out, "Brian, Craig says it's time to get up and have breakfast." >From within the room came a muffled "Fuck off." It was as though the door to his instant happiness had suddenly slammed shut, smashing the smile right off his face. Where light may have existed in his life, its potential had just extinguished. The boy woodenly turned around and trudged up the steps. He slipped down the side hall to his bedroom, preparing himself to cope with the rejection that had once again hunted him down like a predator stalks its prey. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, silently sobbing out his heartbreak. "Sean," came Craig's voice at the door as he knocked, "is something wrong?" Anger ripped through him like a bolt of lightening and he began to shrug his emotions off along with his flowing tears as each knock from Craig sounded. What business was it of his? Why the hell should he have to "talk" to everyone on the entire planet? That's all he had been doing since the day Tristan and Drew had "rescued" him from his dysfunctional home life. Sean pushed away from the door and leaned heavily against the window and glared out the pane. "What's wrong Sean, tell me," Craig said from behind him. "And maybe you could tell me how you got those marks on your neck." Surprised, Sean put a hand to the purple blotches on his neck before snarling, "Nothing. Not a fucking thing. And there's nothing to tell." "It doesn't look like it to me. First you were happier than I've ever seen you and now you are very upset. What has happened here?" Without moving Sean continued to just stare out the window, shifting slightly to shield the marks from Craig's view. "OK, I'll be back in a minute. Just stay here," Craig said as he left the room. Purposefully he strode down the hall and stairs to knock at Brian's door. "Brian, it's time to wake up. I'm coming in 30 seconds." "Fuck off!" Brian shouted back. That tore it. Craig began to become angry and without a second's thought he wrenched the door open and snapped on the light. "I will not tolerate being spoken to like that. You have managed to disrupt both Sean and myself in short order this morning. Whatever happened down here a minute ago has him very upset." Brian mumbled from under the pillow, "I didn't do nothing to him." Craig directed his words to the lump huddled under the covers. "He's had a very tough time at his former home and is still very emotionally vulnerable. He will not handle rejection or abuse well at all and I am telling you these things so you will avoid them in the future. In this house we respect other people's feelings. So you will get out of bed, shower, and get dressed and be upstairs in 10 minutes. If you aren't there, I will be in here helping you. Is that understood?" Brian's tousled head appeared out from under his pillow. He raised his eyebrow enticingly towards Craig, as though in invitation for him to do just that. His full lips pulled into a derisive smirk, and his head dropped back down into the bunched pillow. Craig stared at him, then sighed and turned to leave saying sternly, "Remember, you've been warned." Wearily he climbed the stairs and went back to Sean's room to find Sean still staring out the window at nothing. Leaning against the door he said clearly, "I'm sorry something down there upset you Sean. If having him here will be a big problem with you, he won't be staying. I'll make other arrangements for him. Sean said woodenly, "Do whatever you want. It's your house." Craig took a step inside. "No, Sean, it's OUR house. This is your home too as long as you want to be here. And if someone won't fit into "our" home, then they won't be staying. If you don't want him to stay and discuss it with me, then that's the way it will be. In the meantime, your breakfast is still waiting for you. Are you going to come and eat it?" Turning to look at Craig with empty eyes, Sean shook his head 'no' and resumed staring out the window. "Do you want to talk about it?" Craig offered. Again Sean shook his head 'no'. "I won't press you on it this time. But anytime you want to talk about anything, I'm ready. OK?" Sean didn't respond. "Sean, I want to help you any way I can. The least you can do is to answer." Again Sean swiveled his head slowly before speaking obstinately, "OK. I heard you but I'm not going to talk." Craig sighed. "OK, you don't have to talk but you do have to go to school. We will be leaving at our usual time of 7:45 and I expect you to be ready to go by then," and then he waited for Sean's reply. The silence was deafening as Craig waited for a reply in vain. "Sean, I am waiting for your answer." "Seven forty-five. Yes sir," Sean said bleakly. ******************* It had become customary by this time for The Gang, as they begun to refer themselves, to gather every morning before class and hang out together. Drew and Anthony grinned over at Tristan and David as they greeted the other two boys who were obviously tired that next morning. "Hey, did you two celebrate David's birthday all night or what?" Anthony teased while Drew smiled broadly at them and winked. Both of them caught the look that David and Tristan shared before David gave a short nod. "You guys will never believe what happened," Tristan said quietly. "Come closer," he asked before saying, "Tell them David." In low tones David said, "Yeah, we were spied on last night. Jimmy hid in my closet and watched me and Tristan doing you know what when we thought we were alone." "Holy shit!" Drew exclaimed, his vivid blue eyes wide open with amazement. "You gotta be kidding," Anthony gasped. "Did he see very much?" David moved his head from side to side in dismay. "He saw everything. The little shit jacked off as he watched us and then he made some noise so we caught him with sticky fingers." "Oh my God, David," Drew chuckled then grew more serious. "Do you think he will say anything to your old man? Now I believe you when you talk about how bad he is against gays after what he said last night," he added. "Same here," Anthony piped in. "He has a real thing against gays, doesn't he?" "Yeah," David sighed heavily before continuing. "I don't think Jimmy will tell. He said he wouldn't," David shrugged. Tristan spoke up then. "He said he's not sure if he's gay or not. Either way we have to treat him good so he doesn't get pissed off and rat on me and David." "Whoa. Does being gay run in families or what?" Anthony asked. "Who the fuck knows, I don't," David replied. "It might though." "So what happens if your dad finds out?" Anthony questioned. "He'll hit the roof, that's what," David said glumly. "Probably he'll kick me out." "Then what?" Drew rumbled in his low voice. "David will come and live at my house. No question about it," Tristan stated firmly. "At least you have someplace to go then," Anthony said reassuringly. "We talked about your dad last night, David, when we were walking home and we sure do feel bad for you." "Yeah, but nothing is gonna change it. Thanks anyway you guys," David said. "Since we don't keep secrets from each other Tris and I wanted to let you know what happened." "Yeah, thanks. We're here for you man," Drew said sincerely. "Yeah, all for one and one for all," Anthony giggled. "Maybe we should call ourselves the Musketeers." David shook his head 'no' while Tristan wrinkled his nose. "Nuh uh. We already have a name. But yeah, we still could use their motto cuz it's how I feel. We stick together. How about you David?" "Sure, whatever" David grumped. Anthony stuck his hand out, palm down. "Shake on it then, like the team does," he bubbled enthusiastically. All four boys placed their hands in a stack of camaraderie, pumped them up and down once saying the school nickname, "Saints". Breaking up from their impromptu huddle they saw Sean standing there quietly, looking like his pet dog just died. "Hey Sean," Tristan greeted him. "What's happening? And what's that on your neck?" and then he laughed. Drew greeted their music partner as well with a wide grin. "Hey man. What's up?" and then he winked. "Nothing," Sean answered belligerently. "Fucking nothing. You girls enjoying your little club?" "Oh, listen to him," Anthony said cockily. "Bitchy this morning, aren't we?" Sean scowled. "Hey, give him a break," Tristan said to Anthony before turning to Sean. "You know you are welcome to join us Sean." "No fucking way. People just hurt you when you let them. We singing today or not?" he asked abruptly. "Yeah, if you are," Drew answered with a frown. "I'm ready. Let's go," Sean glowered at them as he waited impatiently, challenging them to say anything more about the purple splotches on his neck. "What vampire bit him?" Anthony whispered to Drew. "You can't help but see those huge hickeys on his neck." Drew only shrugged. He and Tristan took their leave of their boyfriends to go sing with Sean. It didn't look like he was in the best of moods. Some day this was starting out to be. ******************* It was after school and outdoors the temperature was perfect. It was warm and a slight breeze wafted over the distant shouts of the cheerleading squad. Leaves swirled idly around the school building as the puffs of air went on with the business of cooling off the energetic youths. They ended practice that day on the football field with a tremendous shout that left no room for dispirited frowns. The afternoon was perfect as far as Anthony was concerned. Tromping along, Anthony and the girls parted ways as some scurried over to running vehicles with waiting mothers inside. Others jogged towards the changing rooms, while some just stayed to enjoy the rest of the pleasant weather that could hardly match the spirited exuberance that radiated from the vivacious youth. Anthony sauntered down the hallway to the boys' shower room, his mind completely void of anything but Drew. Images of his lover and the sound of a happy tune floated through his mind as he wiped away with a wrist the beads of exertion that had formed on his forehead. His footsteps echoed in the deserted passage, practically mimicking the beat of the astounding delight that coursed through his veins. Anthony allowed the persistent smile to stretch as wide as it could grow. His preoccupation with his thoughts of Drew obscured his awareness to the silhouette that crept along the wall behind him. The voice had the affect of a microphone when it sounded in the dead of the echoing hallway, "Going somewhere fag boy?" Startled, Anthony's head snapped up and he turned tentatively to see Isaac Johnson blocking the hallway behind him. Slightly put off, he swallowed the sudden dryness in his throat and spoke, "I'm going to the showers. Excuse me," he said with exaggerated politeness as he attempted to continue on his way. "They shouldn't let perverted faggots like you into the locker rooms," Isaac spat out as his club-like hand landed on Anthony's shoulder. "In fact, they shouldn't let faggots in school at all. We don't accept you here." "'We'?" Anthony spoke in defiance. "What, you and your cronies who failed to defend you when the entire voice of the locker room dubbed you 'Stubby'?" Isaac's smirk faltered on his once smug face at the offending retort. He suddenly sprung forward after a moment's fleeting thought, and that was the last Anthony saw as something dropped over his head and he was pulled down to the floor. A vicious kick to his stomach stole the air straight from his lungs and any ability to defend himself was torn out along with it. Huddled in a fetal position, the kicks rained in upon him from all around. His buttocks, legs, arms, and ribs all received blow after punishing blow. Grunts of pain were forced out of him as he barely clung to consciousness. Finally, after one last flurry of agonizing kicks, it ended, leaving him gasping convulsively with pain. "Keep your perverted ass out of our school," he heard before a shoe met the back of his head and his awareness fled, leaving him a crumpled heap of school colors and forgotten spirit. The first members of the football team coming in from their practice found him still lying there with his face in a pool of vomit, breathing spasmodically. David, Tristan and Drew had lingered outside to talk to the J.V. coach about their practice that day and the plays they had been practicing. "Coach! Coach!" The frantic voice of Darryl Fredrickson broke into their conversation. "Something is really wrong with Anthony Miller, come quick!" he gasped out as he sprinted up. "Where is he?" Coach Brown asked urgently. "In the hallway to the shower room," Darryl gasped. "He's out cold and he's puked all over the floor." Immediately the Coach, David, Drew, and Tristan ran to where a flock of boys were standing. "Move out of the way," the Coach ordered as he pushed his way through the sea of gawking faces. "Has anyone called for an ambulance yet?" he asked as he immediately ascertained Anthony was in serious trouble as the boy's breathing continued very raggedly. "No...Nuh uh...We thought we better get you first," came the jumbled replies from the crowded clump of massive football gear. "David, go to my office and call for the ambulance," Coach Brown ordered the young man he knew he could depend on. That being done, his attention turned back to the serious situation in front of him on the floor. His star running back, Drew Andrews, was on his hands and knees next to the younger boy, "Anthony, wake up buddy," Drew said over and over. "Don't move him!" Coach ordered as Drew next attempted to move the boy. "Don't tell me what to do!" Drew roared as he leapt to his feet and shoved his enraged face into the coach's. The collective gasp from all the boys present sucked all further sound and movement into a shocked stillness. "Now calm down, Drew," the coach ordered, "we don't want to make anything worse by moving him." A team member tried to help defuse the explosive situation by attempting to pull Drew back. Drew showed his quick reflexes and speed by spinning around on his feet and shoved the other kid into the wall in the blink of an eye to stand there trembling, staring the kid down. "Keep your hands off me," Drew warned him in a tight, threatening voice. Tristan moved to stand next to Drew and wrapped an arm around him. "Drew, he's right. Try to be calm. We're here for you Drew, don't make things worse... please." The rage left Drew just as suddenly as it came upon him. Turning to Anthony, Drew sunk to his knees once more by the boy he loved. "Anthony, wake up," he pled. An approaching siren could be heard through the open windows. The seconds that passed were full of suspended activity as they all watched Anthony gasp in unconscious spasms, until finally, the paramedics burst through the doors and came hurtling down the hall with a stretcher and bright fluorescent medical bags. "Everyone out the way," the first one ordered, almost arrogantly proud to be in charge. "What happened?" he asked as he quickly looked at the curled boy gasping on the floor. "We don't know, we found him this way," Darryl spoke up. The paramedics went to work, sliding the unconscious figure onto their gurney and took a plastic tube and inserted it into his mouth. "We need to move it Frank," the older paramedic prompted. "This kid's b.p. is low and I have a weak pulse." He had swiftly wrapped the pump around Anthony's arm while speaking, and raised the stretcher up with a snap. They charged out of the room, the metal clanking further down the bleak hallway. Drew's face was devoid of color as he stood and watched in shock and horror. Seeing them lifting Anthony into the back of the ambulance, he sprinted from where he stood rooted. "I want to go with," he begged as he ran up to them just before they slammed the rear door. "Are you a friend of his?" "Yeah, his best friend." OK, ride in front, kid," the paramedic said firmly as he pulled the rear door shut. Drew clambered into the front seat and as soon as he clicked his seat buckle closed it was rolling, its siren wailing its clamorous message of woe. If he wasn't so scared for Anthony, Drew would have really enjoyed the ride in the speeding ambulance. Traveling in an ambulance on an emergency run broke every traffic rule in the books. They made it to the emergency room in short order and wheeled up to the doors where the hospital staff was waiting. Drew attempted to follow them but was pulled aside as they took Anthony's form into an examining room. "We need you to give us some information while they take care of your friend," the paramedic named Frank said to him. His eyes never leaving the doorway of the room Anthony was in, Drew answered, "What do you want to know?" "OK, so how old is Anthony? And does he have any medical history that you know of?" "He's 15. And no, I don't know that he's ever had anything wrong with him before." "We need to reach one of his parents to obtain permission to treat him. Can you give us a name and a place we can call?" "Um, yeah. His mom's name is Grace Miller and she works at the First National Bank." "OK, that's good. And we need your name, address, and phone number, son." Mechanically Drew recited the required information while his mind dragged itself down the brightly lit corridor and into the forbidden room where his lover lay. "Is that it then?" he inquired. "For now, yes. We'll call Mrs. Miller and she will have to handle the rest of what we need." Drew slid slowly down the wall then and buried his face in his knees to hide the tears that erupted once more. The image of Anthony looking so helpless, so small, and so fragile played itself over and over in his mind as he crouched in misery. "Son, you need to go to the reception area and wait for news about your friend. You can't stay here," a kindly nurse said as she looked down at him. Shakily Drew climbed to his feet and walked in the direction she pointed him. Seeing chairs lined up against the walls he collapsed into one, bent over and buried his face in his hands. Time passed in agonizing slowness. "Drew! We're here!" Tristan bellowed over the surprised and annoyed heads of several people in the waiting room. "Shh!" David glared over at him. Tristan carried on towards Drew, oblivious to the upset faces that frowned at the loud spoken youth. Drew glanced up and took in the grimy, sweaty sight before him. Tristan, David, and Brad Mills all rushed up to him still dressed in their practice gear, minus their shoulder pads. "Hey," he said weakly. "How is he?" Tristan asked anxiously. "I dunno. No one has come out to say anything. They asked me some questions and here I sit, just waiting," his voice faded and cracked along with his sentence. The pattering sound of a woman's hurrying footsteps sounded behind them. "Drew! What happened? How bad is Anthony hurt?" Grace Miller had come stampeding frantically down the hallway, her red purse flying out behind her. "I don't know for sure," Drew said with a shuddering breath. "He didn't look too good, Mrs. Miller, and he's in the examining room right now." "Oh my god," she nearly sobbed before rushing over to the receptionist to announce her arrival. Her usually carefully arranged hair was now jutting out from her head, resembling the wind blown, disarrayed appearance of a scarecrow. "I'm Anthony Miller's mom. I need to see him," she blurted out in a panic. The receptionist calmly looked back at the distraught mother in front of her and pushed some papers towards Mrs. Miller. "The doctor is with him now and he will come to see you as soon as he can. First, let's get your permission to treat your son. If you would please fill in this admittance form and sign it," she prompted. Hurriedly Mrs. Miller scribbled in the pertinent information, pausing only to dig for Anthony's social security number in her purse. After scrawling her usually neat signature Mrs. Miller pushed the papers back and demanded, "Where is my son? I want to see him." Gathering the papers into a neat stack, the receptionist stated, "Mrs. Miller, he's in the emergency room and he is receiving all the treatment we can possibly give him. Until the doctor is ready, your presence will just hinder their efforts. Please take a seat in the waiting area and wait for the E.R. doctor to come for you when they have finished examining and treating your son." Shakily Grace Miller made her way over to where Drew was sitting and sat nearby. Drew was sitting in a tense posture and was flanked by Tristan and David as they nervously waited with him. Brad stood nearby, waiting for the outcome of this tense tableau. "Drew, what happened to Anthony?" she asked as tears filled her eyes. "They won't let me see him." Drew looked up to answer bleakly, "We don't know what happened. Some other kids on the J.V. team found him lying unconscious in the hall outside the locker rooms." She pled, "Is that all? Could you see anything wrong with him?" Drew fought valiantly to contain the pain that filled his vivid blue eyes and made his lips quiver with suppressed emotion. He could only shake his head in response as he fought to keep his emotions dammed inside. Tristan answered for him. "Mrs. Miller, he was breathing funny. And he had vomited on the floor." Her eyes widened from the dreadful news as she sobbed, "Oh my poor baby," before burying her face in her hands. Silently they all waited for minutes that stretched out like hours. Their heads snapped up at the boom of a door banging open in the direction of the emergency room. A doctor in his thirties wearing a stethoscope around his neck came walking purposefully towards them and approached Grace. "Are you Anthony Miller's mother?" he questioned. "Yes, I am," she said as she quickly stood up. "How is he? Do you know what is wrong with him?" the questions leapt out of her mouth. "Not precisely. He's in X-ray at this very moment. It appears he was in a fight and took severe blows to his abdomen, ribcage, buttocks, legs, and possibly his head. The fact that he's unconscious has me concerned and I am suspecting a concussion. I am also concerned that his blood pressure is low. Did your son ever have any prior history of low blood pressure or heart trouble?" All she could do at that point was mutely shake her head 'no' as her hands covered her mouth in horrified dismay. "Mrs. Miller, depending on what happens in the next 10 minutes and the results of X-rays that are being taken as we speak, we may have to do an emergency surgery to stem possible internal bleeding. Do I have your permission to do so if necessary?" he asked gently. Standing slightly behind her, Drew let out a low moan of anguish. Tristan and David were right next to him, their somber faces pale with extreme anxiety. Hearing that, Mrs. Miller briefly looked over her shoulder at Drew before turning back to the doctor and answering with a shuddering 'yes'. "Can I please see him?" she pled. "I'm sorry Mrs. Miller but it isn't a good idea just yet. Your son is getting all the care we can provide and when I know more, I'll be out to tell you. Please wait out here for a while longer until we have your son stabilized, OK?" Words failed her once more and she could only shake her head 'yes' in response. They all stood there and watched the doctor disappear into the emergency treatment area before nearly tottering back to the chairs that lined the wall. The tears ran from her eyes as Mrs. Miller sobbed out, "Who would want to hurt my little Anthony? He would never want to hurt anyone, let alone get into a fight." Drew's shocked silence was by now turning into anger now that he had an idea what had happened to Anthony. In a controlled fury he replied, "Mrs. Miller, right now we don't know, but I swear I will find out who did this to him and they will pay. They will pay and pay big time for doing this." She reached out to touch his arm, "No, Drew, you can't do that. I don't want you to get into trouble for it. And call me Grace, would you?" While Drew replied, "OK, Mrs. Miller, I mean Grace," Tristan leaned over and muttered to David, "I wonder if Stubby had anything to do with this? He's the only person I know who obviously hates any of us." David could only shrug and hold up his hands in silent reply. Then he tentatively nodded as he considered the possibilities. The minutes wore on and the doctor's ten-minute time limit was exceeded as they waited in vain for news of Anthony. As the minutes accumulated, Drew became more and more tense. He sat there rigidly staring at the door behind which his Anthony was hidden. Mrs. Miller was fidgeting nervously, her head swiveling to track any whisper of sound. Brad was on the pay phone in the corner, talking quietly. "Hey David, come here," he called out over to the anxious group. "Oh oh," David rolled his eyes as he looked over at Tristan. He went over to the phone and took it from Brad, speaking in short responses to whoever was on the other end. He stalked back to them to fling himself into his chair angrily. "What was all that about?" Tristan asked with concern. David very seldom became angry, and when he did, most often it had to do with his dad. "That was my dad. He chewed me out for not calling. Now I'm grounded for a week and I have to be home by 10 o'clock no matter what." All Tristan could do was shake his head in mute disgust. "Shit", he said. "You better call your dad before you get in trouble too," David prompted. "Yeah, I guess I better," Tristan said with a start. Immediately he went over to another phone and dialed with his back to the rest of them. Consequently he didn't see the doctor come out to find Anthony's mom who had risen anxiously to her feet. "How's Anthony? Is he OK? Can I see him now?" she begged the doctor. "He's being monitored in the recovery room. You can see him in just a few minutes, but first we need to talk. Can I visit with you privately?" the doctor asked as Drew and David stood close and listened. Grace glanced over at both boys before looking at the doctor to answer, "It doesn't matter to me what they hear. Wherever you want to talk is fine, they need to know too." "OK, then let's all sit down," the doctor said as he pulled a chair over facing backwards, propping his arms on the back of it and facing the three of them. "Here's what we found. Your son was attacked Mrs. Miller. He has deep bruises all over his body. He is still unconscious from a moderate concussion at the rear of the skull. We ended up doing surgery to remove his spleen because it was ruptured and was causing serious internal bleeding. He's stable now and in a few minutes he will be moved to ICU. When he's there, you can see him." Drew spoke up urgently, "Will he be OK?" The doctor turned to answer him after glancing over at Grace and receiving her nod of permission. "Yes, we are optimistic that he will be fine. It will take a few days for us to be sure, however, and he will be hospitalized until he's out of any potential danger." "What about his spleen? Doesn't he need that?" she asked anxiously, regaining the doctor's attention. Patiently the he explained, "He can live a normal life without his spleen. The liver and other organs step in to do the job the spleen did. We will just have to be a bit more careful with him in certain situations. But he will be able to live a completely normal life without his spleen," the doctor reassured her. "I have to inform you that the police have been notified and will want to obtain statements from anyone who has any information regarding the attack on your son." He paused for a moment and then added, "They will ask if you want to press charges, Mrs. Miller. I recommend that you do. This was a very serious situation and without the prompt care he received, he most likely would have died." She sat very still for the space of 15 seconds, her eyes blinking very rapidly as she digested that news. "But he'll be OK now, won't he?" she once more sought further assurance. "Barring any unexpected complications, yes," the doctor confidently stated. "Now, I had better go back inside unless you have any other questions." "When can I see him is all," she declared. "The nurse will come and take you to him shortly," the doctor promised. "Can I come too?" Drew asked anxiously. Again the doctor looked over to Mrs. Miller for a cue. Her nod dictated his answer. "Yes, but remember, he's still not conscious and most likely won't wake up until sometime tomorrow." "Oh, you didn't tell us about that!" exclaimed Grace. "Why won't he be awake?" "Because the medication he has received for his concussion will keep him unconscious for at least 12 hours. First thing in the morning we'll evaluate him to see how he's responding to that treatment." "Oh. OK. Thank you doctor, for everything you've done," she said rather tentatively. "Yeah, thanks!" Drew seconded before the doctor turned and walked back into the emergency treatment area. He wanted to climb out of his skin at that moment. He was scared, happy, nervous, excited, and apprehensive all at the same time at the prospect of being able to see Anthony again. And underneath everything he was so damn angry that someone would hurt his Little Man! His nervous energy made him pace the floor. Tristan came over from the phone to stop Drew in his pacing and ask, "What did the doctor say? Is Anthony OK?" "They had to take out his spleen, Tristan," Drew spat out angrily. "It was ruptured and he was bleeding inside. I'm going to find who did this to him if it's the last thing I ever do!" "And then what?" Tristan asked quietly as he held Drew at the elbows, their faces scant inches apart. "Hurt them like Anthony was hurt so you can go to jail for it and be kept locked away? Is that what you want?" Drew stared angrily into Tristan's compassionate brown eyes. "You think they should just get away with it then?" he demanded. "You know I don't think that," Tristan defended himself. "I just don't want you to go off and do something stupid." "Oh, don't you worry none about that, Tristan," Drew asserted, "but I'll find whoever did this to my Little Man and they are going to pay the price, I swear to God!" "Right now we don't even have any proof of who did it," Tristan reminded him. "I have my suspicions," Drew said darkly, his handsome face contorted with bottled up rage. "Let the police do their job," Tristan temporized. "And if they don't do anything?" Drew retorted hotly. "If you aren't white, they don't do shit." "I don't believe that," Tristan replied, shocked at Drew's racist comment. "We'll see, won't we?" "Yes, we will. But remember, in either case we need proof of who did it. Then WE'LL see that this doesn't go unpunished. If the authorities won't do anything, only then do we take things into our own hands, OK? Promise me, Drew," Tristan demanded. Drew tried to pull himself loose and Tristan hung on tightly. "Fucking A, Tristan, let go of me!" "Promise," Tristan softly demanded again. Tears of anger and frustration gathered in Drew's eyes as he spat, "Yeah, I PROMISE the asshole or assholes who did this are gonna pay." "Drew, promise to me that you won't take revenge on your own. Promise?" Tristan pled, pouring all of the love and concern he could into Drew, trying to reach through to his friend. With a stiff jerk upwards with his head, Drew finally relented. "Fuck!" he swore again to himself before saying, "I promise. Now are you going to let go of me or do I have to kick your ass too?" Then a ghost of a smile appeared only around his mouth, enough to show Tristan that he wasn't really serious about that. Then, as Tristan let go of him, he quickly he dashed away the tears that had gathered with the back of his hand. Tristan grabbed him into a quick hug and then backed away to find David watching apprehensively nearby. It was clear that Drew would have had David to contend with as well if he took on Tristan. But that crisis had passed and just in time for a nurse was approaching Mrs. Miller. "Mrs. Miller," she spoke to Grace, "I can take you into ICU to see your son now." Drew was immediately at her side. "I want to see him too," he implored. The nurse looked over at Drew before turning to Grace. "Is that OK with you?" she asked. Grace glanced over and Drew, seeing the anguish written over Drew's face. It dawned on her again that this was the young man to whom her son had given himself and who obviously deeply loved him in return. She couldn't say no. "Yes, he can come too." "Just the two of you then," the nurse said firmly. "He's in ICU and that is the maximum number of visitors allowed there. Come with me." As he walked away, Drew turned back to say to the three boys left behind, "You guys don't need to stay. I'll call you if there is any news, OK?" "You sure?" Tristan asked as David stood with him. "Yeah, bye." Drew said and left the waiting area. Silently and apprehensively they followed the nurse into the surreal surroundings of ICU. The unconscious person in the bed was indeed Anthony, but there were wires and tubes coming from him in all directions. A heart monitor beeped with Anthony's life affirming pulse, but the shining light within Anthony's eyes was hidden away behind his closed eyes. A clear plastic tube was taped into his mouth as the machine it came from hissed and chugged, a bellows mechanism breathing for him. "Oh my poor baby," Grace barely managed to say before she dissolved into tears as she surveyed the still form of her son, her hands held up to her mouth in horrified sorrow. Drew moved over to the bed, desperately needing to touch Anthony. He grabbed Anthony's hand that wasn't connected to the IV tube and held it gently. "Little Man, I'm here. Nobody is ever gonna hurt you again, I swear it!" he said hoarsely before he rested his face on it. It was then he totally lost his composure, rinsing the hand he gripped with his hot tears. Only the beep and hiss of the machines that helped sustain Anthony's life answered him. ******************** The silence in the house this time of day was unnerving for Randy after the phone call he had received from Tristan. This was when Tristan was normally there sharing their evening meal. A favorite meal of his, lasagna, was cooling untouched on the top of the stove. Until this moment, Randy hadn't worried about the possibility of Tristan or David being hurt because of the love they shared. Now, with Sean laying serious injured in the hospital from an attack, his appetite was replaced by heartache. And there was no one for him to share his worries with, or was there? "I should call Craig and tell him about this," Randy thought to himself. "He would understand." It took two attempts for him to dial the number in his unsettled state, but finally the tones of a ringing phone came through the receiver. "Hello, Thompson residence," Craig answered. "Craig, this is Randy. There's been some trouble..." "Oh no! Is it Tristan or David?" "No, not exactly, thank God," Randy said, "but I'm still worried. Their friend Anthony was attacked after school today and is being operated on now. Tristan called me from the hospital just now." "I'm very sorry to hear that, Randy, but neither David or Tristan were hurt?" "No, I asked him and he said 'no'." "What happened?" "Evidently Anthony finished his cheerleading practice and went in by himself to shower and was attacked in the hall to the locker room." "Oh no, that's not good at all. This hasn't been a good day all the way around," Craig confided. "Oh? Your day wasn't good either?" Randy asked. "Not really. I brought another boy home last night who needs help and something has happened between him and Sean. Neither boy is talking to me and Sean is very upset. He's been in his room ever since he came home from school." "Well, if anyone can handle it, it's you," Randy consoled. "It's very much of a challenge, I can assure you. What about Tristan? How is he handling this crisis?" "I'm not sure. He sounded upset, naturally, and it sounds like David's dad is being his usual heavy-handed self. David is grounded for a week since he didn't call home before his sister's boyfriend told the family where he was. I think that on top of Anthony's situation has Tristan upset. I'm pretty sure I can deal with anything concerning Tristan short of Anthony's death but I'll find out when Tristan gets home, whenever that will be tonight." "I'd come right over and wait with you if I didn't have a problem of my own here," Craig said with obvious regret. "Yeah, I understand. There isn't much either of us can do except wait and see. Tristan promised to come home as soon as they got word of Anthony's condition. He said David had orders to be home by 10 so I know it won't be any later than that." "OK, but feel free to call me anytime if you need any help at all. I always have time for you and the boys," Craig said warmly. "Thanks," Randy said and then added a trifle nervously, "I was also wondering if you would be able to go out with me for a drink and whatever this Friday?" "Assuming that I am not having to deal with some crisis here, I would like to do that very much. Did you have any particular place in mind?" "Yeah. I heard a rumor that a bar downtown is a place that is gay friendly. How would you like to check it out with me?" Randy asked. "Sounds fine," Craig agreed. "What time did you want to go and would you like me to pick you up?" "How about 8 o'clock? And if you want to drive, that's fine." "Very good. I'll pick you up Friday evening at 8 o'clock. And keep me posted about things on your end, would you?" "Yeah, sure will Craig." "Good." "Yeah. Well, bye then." "Good bye Randy. Take care," and the phone clicked in his ear as Craig hung up. Randy hung up the phone and began to nervously putter around the house as he waited for Tristan to get home, worried and heartsick over Anthony and the future for his son. ******************** That's it for this chapter. I wish I was at a happier place in the story to leave you but this is how it all worked out time-wise. Life certainly isn't always perfect, although I wish it could be that way for all of us. The same Ashley I featured in the preface said it best in a recent email to me and I would like to share her words with you once more in closing if I may. "To truly be loved for who we are...that would be so nice. Unfortunately, in the world in which we live, sometimes, we are not so lucky. My thoughts, and my prayers are with those that during the festive Holiday season who have to live out that nightmare of being shunned for their own preferences, or beliefs, or just something as simple as who they love. So, to those of you, that for 'you' the above is true, I offer a huge warm hug and a soft kiss upon your forehead. To those of you that are 'out', happy, safe, and secure in the knowledge that you are loved unconditionally, to you I say, 'be thankful' for you are fortunate and wealthy beyond mere riches. You have freedom--true freedom--to be who you are and not snared into society's little traps of what they feel is proper--what their narrow minded little pea brained minds deem correct. To you, I share a hug, and a reassuring smile. Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, & Happy New Year to you all, I love you.-- Ashley" Thank you, Ashley. I wish those words you just said had been mine for you say it so very well. A very Happy Holidays to you and to all who read this story. (The people who have joined the David and Tristan Yahoo Group were advised that this chapter was posted on Nifty Archive. If you would like that same option and want to become part of the D&T family, all you have to do is to send a blank EMAIL to: David_n_Tristan-subscribe@yahoogroups.com. You will receive a return email containing your free membership approval and the link to obtain access to the Group.)