Logan thought things would get better once school started, but they didn't. Nearly a month into the school year and he felt even worse. The boy that always had the answers, the boy that took pride in his appearance and his homework, just wasn't himself. This year, Logan attempted to blend into the woodwork, to be invisible, so everyone would just leave him alone.

On this day, in Algebra class, he sat along the tall windows of the old school building. The afternoon sun was warm and comforting, putting the boy more at ease than he'd been in weeks. He gazed at the birds flitting from tree to tree while he mulled over his life.

He didn't see much of Noah around school. Since he registered for the honors courses and Noah wasn't, they didn't have the same core courses. They had also chosen different electives - Noah taking Wood Shop and Study Hall, Logan selecting Art and Band. Their only hope of having time together at school was lunch, gym or health, but Logan's honors schedule prevented him from having the same lunch. They did have health and gym the same period, but they were on opposite teams. Days when Logan had gym, Noah had health, and vice versa. With Noah playing football, his evenings were occupied with practice, or a game, and then homework. By that time, his mother felt it was too late for her son to leave the house on a school night. Even on weekends the two friends hardly saw each other. When Logan didn't have to go somewhere with his mom, he seemed to disappear, and no one knew where he was. The few times Noah managed to catch Logan at home, their relationship was strained by Logan's secrecy, self-loathing and confusion about his feelings towards Noah.

School had always been his sanctuary. A place where he could shine even when he felt oppressed and discouraged by the outside world. After what happened the other day, he learned he school was no longer safe.

Logan had band the last period of the day. The class always ended a bit early so students could put their instruments away and still make the buses. He quickly tore down his snare drum and placed it in its case when he noticed a pair of feet next to his case. Pausing, he followed the legs up to the face of one of the teens he's seen at Bob's.

"Bob's pissed you didn't show up Sunday," said the teen.

"My mom took us to Kaiser Lake," explained Logan, putting the remaining items in the case and snapping it shut.

"Well, don't ever do that again." The teen pulled a photo out of his pocket and flicked it across the band room like he was tossing a baseball card into a cap.

Logan lunged for the photo, crashing through folding chairs and music stands. The photo flew across the room and slid across the floor towards the door. A few of the students watched the photo come to a stop and their classmate scramble, diving for the photo that laid at their feet.

Laying there with his hand on top of the photo, Logan was relieved the photo landed face down. Curious to know if Bob had really followed through with his threat, he lifted a corner of the photo. It was a photo of a man holding Logan by two fistfuls of hair as he face-fucked the boy while another man fucked his ass. The photo clearly showed Logan's face and the tears streaming down his cheeks. Clutching the photo, Logan scurried to the trash can and vomited.

"Logan!" yelled Mr. Thrush, the music teacher. "What are you doing? Straighten up the chairs and music stand before you set foot outside this room. Do you hear me?"

Logan lifted his head from the trashcan to see he was alone in the band room with the teacher.

"I'm sorry," said Logan. He stuffed the photo in his pocket and went about fixing the band room. With the last chairs in place, he put his drum in the instrument room and headed to the office.

"I missed my bus, may I please use the phone to call my mom?"

"Sure," said the secretary. She pulled the cord around the edge of the desk so she could place the phone on the counter. "Here you go."

He let the phone ring ten times before hanging up.

She noticed the defeated look on the boy's face. "No one home?"

He shook his head no. "I'll just walk." It was nearly seven miles home. To Logan, that was nothing compared to the things he'd endured the last month.

The three hours it took him to get home didn't matter. He'd struggled to concentrate to do his homework, the same as his failed attempts to pay attention in class. Walking home was simply a great excuse to not sit at the dining room table pretending to do his homework. But it also left him with nothing to do but think when he really needed to be distracted from thinking.

He worried about how much longer he could keep this up. If Bob wasn't going to accept that he had family things to do, he was going to have conflicting commitments and it was going to cause problems. During his walk, Logan also thought about his school work. Other than a B in Spelling from Mrs. Krause, his fifth-grade teacher, Logan had always been a straight A student. This school year would prove to be a different story. His grades weren't just not As, he was warned by his Honors English teacher that if he didn't get his act together, he'd be taking home a D on his mid-term report card. To Logan, it seemed like a matter of time before his poor academic performance would raise questions he couldn't answer. But then he wondered why no one was asking questions already. He could only come up with one answer. No one cared. That thought played on loop the rest of the way.

Arriving home, Logan entered the empty house, climbed the stairs and went straight to his mother's closet. Sitting on the edge of her bed, he loaded the shot gun. On the night stand sat a phone. His eyes traveled from back and forth between the gun and phone. Picking up the receiver, he dialed Noah's phone number.

"Hello?" answered Noah.

Logan began crying.

"Logan?"

"Please..." he cried harder.

"Logan? What's wrong?"

"Whatever you hear about me, it's not true," said the boy, gasping for air, shaking uncontrollably.

"What?"

"Just tell me you won't believe what you hear," begged Logan.

"Okay, but what's wrong?"

Logan hung up. Picking up the gun, he put the barrel in his mouth, but couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger. Convinced he was such a fuck up, he wouldn't do it right and would survive. Then, he'd have even more questions to answer.

Crushed into a million pieces, Logan unloaded the gun, returned it to the closet, and went to bed with the metallic taste of the gun barrel reminding him of his failures.

"Excuse me, Logan? Are you going to join us today?"

His Algebra teacher wakened Logan from his thoughts. He sat up and replied, "Yes, Mr. Todd. Sorry."

----------------------     

Though the boys hadn't spoken, besides Logan's cryptic phone call, their parents had. Saturday came and, on the way out the door with his little brother in tow, Logan's mother remembered to tell him that he's spending the night at Noah's house so his friend's parents can go out.

He slowly rode his bike up the hill to Noah's. Whether it was embarrassment over the phone call, questions that might be asked about his whereabouts or the bruises Noah saw on his back during the football game, or his confusion over his physical attraction to Noah, for the first time, Logan actually dreaded reaching Noah's house.

The evening was awkward. Logan was more confused than ever about his love for Noah. Scared that if he opened his mouth, he would say something wrong, he closed himself off from his friend. Noah knew something was wrong and couldn't get through to Logan. During the evening, Noah began to feel like Logan didn't even want to be there. It hurt to think Logan might not want to be his friend anymore, but he couldn't deny his friend was acting strange and distant. Neither boy knowing what to do or say to make things right, they both danced around the topic. After a dismal, boring evening, they went to bed early.

Noah's bedroom was uncomfortable after the unseasonably warm September day. The boys stripped to their underwear and laid on top of the sheet enjoying the breeze created by the window fan.

For Logan, there would be no sleep and he knew it. Instead he watched Noah -- his beautiful Noah -- and thought about the decision he'd made coming to Noah's that evening. He was supposed to be at Bob's tonight. The man planned a late-night party and Logan was the evening's entertainment. Looking at the clock, he knew Bob was expecting him in about an hour and a half. Instead, Logan was laying here in bed with Noah. All afternoon he contemplated what to do, to come up with some excuse to break the plans the parents made so he could go to Bob's or go to Noah's and hope Bob wouldn't go farther than sending someone with a photograph to threaten him. But missing the party would piss Bob off big time and it could spell the end of Logan.

When Noah rolled onto his side, Logan scooted up behind his friend, spooning him, without touching. Logan could feel the heat radiating from Noah's body from head to foot. Moving his head closer, Logan brushed his nose through Noah's hair. Moving closer to the crook of the sleeping boy's neck, he breathed in Noah's scent, imprinting it into his brain. Longing to hold his friend, Logan placed his trembling hand slowly, carefully, on the boy's hip. He hoped the cotton of Noah's light blue briefs would mask his touch, so his friend didn't wake.

Being this close to Noah set Logan's passions afire. Moving his hips forward, Logan pressed his rigid cock against Noah's ass. Holding himself tightly against Noah, Logan let his hand creep ever so slowly up the sleeping boy's hip. The white waistband of Noah's briefs left a gap between his hip and stomach, where that sexy "v" led down to Noah's cock and balls. Slipping his fingers under the waistband without touching Noah, Logan paused to make sure his friend was still asleep. He pulled the waistband out, he slid his fingers towards his target, finding Noah's cock hard and pointing straight up towards his belly button. In a mix of excitement and fear, Logan held the dick he so desired in his finger tips and squeezed it a few times.

He could explain away everything he was doing, except having his hand in his friend's underwear playing with his dick. For that reason, he didn't leave his hand there for long. He slowly slipped his fingers out from under the elastic, letting the waistband ease its way back in place.

With his hand free, Logan reached down and pushed his own underwear below his balls and pressed himself against Noah's ass again. The thought that only Noah's thin briefs separated cock and ass was such a turn on. His hand returned to Noah's hip to hold the boy in place so he could press harder against the boy's firm cheeks.

After only a few minutes, Logan felt like he was pressing his luck. He released Noah's hip and slowly pulled back. He hadn't realized his cock was wedged in Noah's crack until he saw the ass cheeks hold his cock in place while his body moved away. The intensity of the sight made Logan's cock flex and burp up a bubble of precum onto Noah's underwear.

On autopilot, Logan scooted down the bed and faced Noah's ass. Tentatively, he flicked his tongue to swab the precum from Noah's underwear. When the boy didn't stir, Logan used his tongue to trace Noah's crack. Pausing to see if the boy stirred, Logan leaned forward and pressed his face to Noah's ass, inhaling the scent of the boy's most private place.

He wanted to pull down Noah's underwear and rub his face on his friend's bare ass. He wanted to rub his cock up and down Noah's ass crack, flesh on flesh. He wanted to fuck Noah.

With that thought, Logan backed away and stepped off the bed in horror. That's when he knew. He really wasn't any better than the men that did those things to him. The things that hurt him physically and damaged his soul. Here he was wanting to do the same things to Noah. He needed to stay away from Noah, not just to protect Noah from Bob and the other mean, but to protect Noah from himself.

Dressing quietly, Logan crept down the stairs and out the side door of the house. He climbed onto his bike and rode away from Noah's house for the last time.

Pushing his bike around the cars in the driveway, he opened the gate and pushed his bike through.

"About fucking time you showed up," growled Bob. "You're late."

The End     

----------------------     

Are you interested in what happened to Logan and Noah? I'm tore. I don't know if my readers are interested in having an Epilogue about the path the lives of these two boys took and their brief reconnection as adults.

I have a poll on my blog. It shows up at the bottom of each page. Please take a moment to voice your opinion about the Epilogue. There is also a "Name the Character" contest under "Ask the Brat".

Thanks for reading!