Date: Tue, 11 Apr 2023 23:09:07 +0200
From: I Dusk
Subject: Husband of my Homophobic Sister 22

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  Hello dear readers.

  This story is fiction, created for entertainment only, and I kindly ask
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  Chapter 22 - Fucking intense night!


      Warning content: Mentioning personal trauma, violence, and
      death.
      This chapter was written for entertainment only and is in no
      way a guide. Always drive safely.

We were on our way home. Nate driving. We smelled, and we loved it! We
just listened to music, talked about the night, laughed, and teased each
other about what we would do in the shower when my playlist started
playing the song Run Boy Run by Woodkid. Nate stopped talking at the
first notes and just listened.
"Turn up the volume, please."
I smiled widely.
"Damn, sure. I love this song!"
"It's my favorite." Nate looked at the road ahead and tapped on the wheel
with his fingers to the beat.

"You're joking!" I may have said that louder than was needed.
"You are drunk, and no, it really is," Nate looked at me, amused.
I grinned at him. "I am not drunk. I had two beers. At the most, I am
buzzed."
He smiled sweetly at me. "You had three. But I'll accept your judgment
for now."
"Is it seriously your favorite?"
Nate nodded, turning the wheel gently. "Yes. I remember I stood frozen in
the spot the first time I ever heard it. I loved it ever since."
"It's mine as well!"
Nate looked at me, checking with a smile if I was serious.
"Then we have a favorite song."

"You should watch the road," I said, grinning like a little boy and
pressing the repeat-one button.
"Did you just put it on repeat?"
"There are very few songs I can listen to in a loop, but this one is
among them. And I want to enjoy this with you."
He just laughed.

"I love this night!" I shouted when the song ended.
Nate grinned even more. "Yes, it was great!" He now had this dreamy smile
listening to it again.
"You'll be mine, boy," I said it wrong on purpose, along with the lyrics.
"You won't be singing it to me?" Nate winked at me.
"Not alone, not a chance!"
"Okay, the next time it starts, we both go."
I leaned toward him. "You serious?"
He nodded with that white smile looking at the road as he was taking
another turn. "Yes."
"I must be drunk! Okay, ready?"

Nate nodded again and grinned like crazy. We sat there listening to the
last chords in silence, waiting for it to start again.

Then we both started singing! I was looking at him, listening to his deep
baritone, completely smitten. Every time there was the line 'You'll be a
man, boy,' we both sang, "You'll be mine, boy!"
I don't remember the last time I had this much fun! When it stopped, we
laughed.

Nate pulled to the side, stopped the engine, sat, and turned towards me.
We just sat there looking at one another, listening to the song for the
third time. Then he kissed me for the whole duration of the fourth.
How old are we again? I feel like in my teens!

"Let's head home." Nate purred as his lips left mine.
"Let's. I need to devour you whole!"
Nate buckled again with an endearing smirk. "You bet you do!"

He started the car and got back on the road. I realized how hot it was to
watch him drive!
"You like driving a stick?"
Nate smirked at my remark.
"Yeah, I prefer it. Actually, it gives you more control over the car."
"You can drive a stick, you fuck like a pornstar, and you fight like a
fucking wrestler. Is there anything you can't do?"
Nate laughed loudly. "Many things, actually." He kept smiling widely.
"But seriously, that was fucking impressive. How did you learn all that?"
He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. "I told you."
"You've really gotten into so many fights with those guys? I would never
have said that about you or Dan, as he is the only one I've met."
His smile lessened a little. "People change."
"True, but this is huge! What happened?"

I didn't mean to go into anything deep or heavy. I was just spewing shit,
enjoying the night, and I wanted to know more about this side of him that
I never knew about. But at the sight of him, I froze. Nate gripped his
jaw tightly, and I could see something was going on.

"What happened?" I meant right now, with his mood, I didn't mean to pry
into something that was obviously painful for him, yet I suppose everyone
could read into that question differently.

"You know how I said I drank my fill for the rest of my life?"
"Yeah," I said, nearly worried.
"That's part of my story I managed to speak about. But it's more like
the part where I can hide the rest."
"And what is the rest of the story?"
Nate took a deep breath and blinked a few times. "Don't make me do this
behind the wheel Richard."
"Why? What does it have to do with driving?" I was fucking stupid!
Totally fucking clueless!! Why did I need to pry?! I could see it was
hurting him...

Nate gave me a look I hadn't seen before. It excited me and scared me at
the same time.
"Richard, do you trust me?"
Without thinking, I went, "Yes."

Nate exhaled and changed the gears suddenly. Then he started to speed up
the car. We were driving at 50mph at that point, but then the car started
to accelerate.
I looked around. We were on an empty night road. Nate drove to some road
leading to a suburban area, and the way the car turned made me slide in
my seat. I grabbed the door handle and looked at his focused profile. He
changed the gears in a way that made me double-check if I had a seatbelt
on. I stared at him, shocked and worried, trying to stay calm. He hit the
gas. We were now at 87mph.

"You know when you do something for a long time, and you are passionate
about it, it grows on you, and soon you start to look at the world around
you through the lens of it. You climb, and with every rock you see, you
think, how can I make it to the top? Every crack and edge you see as
grabbing spots."

We were nearing a junction on the road. I looked at Nate, scared. He
changed the gears again to slow down enough to make it and made the turn
without even changing his expression.
"You walk highlines, and every two points high above the ground made you
think of rigging a line up there. Buildings, towers, cliffs, mountains."

A long straight road ahead. I heard the car row as he hit the gas pedal.
"You freerun, and everything you see is an obstacle worth jumping over.
You speed drive, and every road you see makes you think, how fast can I
go and still survive the turn? Or if a car appears on the other side,
will I make it past him?"

I watched his profile, realizing there were tears running down his
cheeks. Then, in fast motion, he wiped them away.

"When your mind gets used to life on the edge, you feel that if you woke
up one day in life without it, you wouldn't be able to survive. Like the
sudden halt would kill you because your mind would keep the speed up, but
your life would just collide with the still world around you and shatter
you into pieces."

I yelped, reading the number 107 on the dashboard under the wheel.

"You know, Richard, there are moments in life that will split it into the
one before and the one after."

He took a deep breath, and his hand went to that fucking stick again. I
looked ahead. I was screaming internally. Turn! Fuck!

Nate stopped talking and again tortured my car to bring it to just under
60. Then he made a sharp turn, and I screamed, gripping the dashboard in
front of me.

"After this moment, you are no longer the same person. Yet the memory of
the life before lives within you. So you either go crazy or you adapt.
But to adapt, you need to bury that part of you that is making you crazy
first. That part which reminds you of how much you need that edge to
thrive! To feel alive! But you must remember that that part can also kill
you. Otherwise, you'll never let go of it!"

Nate pulled on the brake, and the car drifted and spun! His eyes were
laser-focused, and he turned the wheel with precision. In those seconds
that felt like an agonizing few hours, the car stopped. I would have
screamed, but it all happened so fast and with such intensity that I was
muted in shock.

Nate sat there glaring out of the front window, both hands on the wheel.
"When I was young, I was a bully. My parents never cared for more than my
good grades and boasting to others about how gifted children they had. No
one cared that our talents were cold hard work we both hated and
despised. All those talents that made me perfect till I sometimes bled; I
grew to hate."

He wiped his face with the back of his hand and stared with hatred in
front of him.
"My parents taught me that this was the way to strive. To go deep into
things to perfect anything I decide. They also made me not care about it
at the same time. I was hollow. And after I told them to fuck off after I
refused to go to the college they chose for me, I filled that hole within
me with adrenaline."

I couldn't stop staring at him in disbelief.

"Fights, alcohol, drugs. Then even that becomes boring. One can't go
into those that deep and still feel good while doing so. I suppose that
was my luck, this mindset I got from my grandma. If anything made her
sick physically, she would refuse to touch it again. No exceptions, no
excuses."
His lips curled up just a tiny bit.

"Then I started to explore highs. Climbing, highlining, base jumping,
skydiving. Anything that made my blood rush and spiked my adrenaline to
the limit. Matt used to get into fights often. Like he lived in those
moments, and in them, he felt the most alive. We were always there for
him, and John or I usually calmed them down, but you can't stop it all,
especially when both sides yearn for it. So on those, we, of course,
fought with him. After a few wins, we all grew to love the thrill of
pain, even the closeness to death."

Brandon once hyped us into speeding. Not for some races, just the sheer
thrill of being able to survive the next turn. Always on the edge of some
other car appearing there and need to make it around. I was at the police
station more times than I cared to count. But it was always just
disturbance and speeding. I was in my early twenties and had wealthy
parents that hated drama to be public, so I never got into any real
trouble."

"I was living on the edge. Addicted to adrenaline. As it was the only
thing that made me feel whole."

His voice got deeper and laced with pain. "Until one day."

Nate gripped the wheel tightly and then slammed into it with an open
palm. He exhaled and tried to collect himself. The music was still
playing, but he turned it off. Again, tears ran down his face, and this
time he let them. He leaned back in his seat, and his eyes kept staring
into the night out the front window. I wouldn't have been able to speak
even if I had wanted to say something.

"I had a younger brother. His name was Luke."
He wiped the tears, and after a couple of moments, he continued with deep
pain in his voice.

"He was also made into a gifted child, of course. Which meant being
forced into greatness no matter how he felt or what he really wanted."

There was this heavy silence. Yet, from the look of him, I felt he was
not finished. We were under a streetlight, which made everything
happening here even more intense as I could see the expressions on his
face.

"I killed him... One day, I came home. I hadn't been living there for
about two years back then, but he called me crying and furious that he
wanted to come to live with me. I was twenty-two then."

Nate closed his eyes. "Our parents found out Luke had a girlfriend. She
was in a state school and was just a regular student about to graduate
and head to some no-name college. Her parents were just normal working
people. I knew her. She was a nice girl. I really liked her, and they
really loved each other. She made him happy. But for them, she was not
enough, and she was keeping their prodigy son from greatness." Nate
opened his eyes and hit the wheel in sheer frustration and anger as he
said those words.

"I came there, and they were yelling. I never heard my parents scream.
Never! Nor Luke. He was eighteen then, and he hated the life they made
him live. He was mad that they broke up his relationship, and they were
screaming about some fucked up recital he was supposed to attend the
following day. It was mental! He didn't have a life; he had been stuck
living the good son persona his whole childhood. And they had taken away
the only thing that made his life bearable!"

"I was furious. I stepped in, and we were all screaming at each other
like we were deranged. I told them to fuck off, and we stormed off in my
car. I took him home. The guys and I were renting a house back then. We
welcomed him in, and I promised him that we would make it right. Luke
told me he had already spoken with Trish, but she told him that it was
over and it was for good. He was devastated. We tried to be there for him
to cheer him up. After a few hours, Luke told me he wanted to go to
sleep, and we just let him rest."

Nate leaned to the wheel, gripping it tight with both hands. "Everything
after that is just a blur. I remember the police coming over and asking
about my car. I was just confused and looked for Luke. Even when they
told me he was dead... I had to go there to identify him and meet our
parents there. I think we all blamed each other so we wouldn't have to
say out loud that we all thought it was our fault."

Nate hugged the wheel and remained to stare out into nothingness. "I was
devastated... I was constantly remembering how I was talking with him
about how I cleared my head when I had done this or that. I even told him
I would just speed on an empty road and stop at the last second. I was
just talking shit! Trying to fill the silence... I will never forgive
myself for giving him that idea."

"The turn we always made with the guys and laughed like stupid out of the
sheer joy from surviving it cost him his life."
"There is no amount of `it's not your fault' people can tell me for me
ever to believe that or forgive myself."

"I couldn't start a car for years after that. And when I had to, I cried
behind the wheel for months. I couldn't drink because, in the drunken
state, all that guilt came crashing down on me, and even touching alcohol
became a trigger for me. Same with drugs. I kept highlining and climbing,
but I just became different. I think all of us guys did. They loved Luke
like their own brother. They had known him since he was little. He was
this little guy who wanted to hang out with us every chance he got. When
he found Trish, it was us he introduced her to, and they used my room
every time they could."
"I used to make fun of him, keeping a bunch of condoms on the nightstand
and wishing them good night in the middle of the afternoon. I loved
teasing them, and they were really cool about it. I loved Trish. She was
a good girl."

"There was no question about whether he could live with us when all that
shit went down, and they were cheering him up in the same shit way that I
was. It was hell for us there, after that crash."

Nate seemed to calm down just a little. He leaned back into the seat and
looked at his hands.
"Mary knew about Luke. She heard it from Trish. They were best friends,
even though I didn't know her back then. She met me a few years later
when she came to one Slackline festival. So it was kind of soothing to
have someone who knows and understands why I woke up in the middle of the
night shaking and crying. We dated for about two years, but I broke it
off. I think she thought that I had PTSD, and she understood many times
that I didn't feel like having sex. But after some time of being with
her, I just couldn't stand it. Knowing that she knows was just reminding
me of everything more. I tried to deal with it. So I just couldn't be
with her, even though I think I really did love her."

"Nathaniel..." I cried myself. I was utterly devastated hearing all
that.

Nate looked at me, his eyes full of pain. I was about to unbuckle and hug
him when I heard the message sound. I didn't care for it one bit, but as
I unbuckled myself and went to lean to him, my eyes involuntarily looked
at the screen of my phone still attached to the car's dashboard.
I couldn't help my reaction when there was a message from Jerry on the
screen. It read only one word: 'help'

Nate must have seen me freeze in fear that just grew within me. I
couldn't even think. No! Not now, of all the fucking times!

"Richard, what happened?"
He looked at my phone and caught the message before the screen went
black.
I was shocked. There were so many things I needed to process. To do! To
be there for Nathaniel! After a confession like this! Yet I knew just how
serious this message was!

"Richard!"
He took my face in his hands and made me look at his red, swollen face
that bore the traces of him crying.
"Nathaniel, please forgive me, this... Jerry."
Nate nodded. "Something happened."

I nodded, and without any denunciation on his face, he handed me the
phone. I looked at it and then at him, feeling like the shitiest partner
ever!

"I am so..."
"Stop it. What happened?" I saw on his face that he was now more
concerned about me than himself. Why tonight? Of all nights? Why now?

I immediately called Jerry.
I heard it ringing, but he wasn't picking up. I looked at Nate. I was
desperate.
"How fast can you drive?"
Nate started the car within a second. "Tell me the address."
I told him, and he nodded, knowing exactly where that was.

I tried to call Jerry the second time.
"When we broke up, and Jerry started exploring his kinks more, I asked
him for one thing. If ever he felt that he was in danger to send me this
message. It had never happened before, but knowing the assholes Jerry
likes to fuck, this one must have turned out ugly. Jerry never texted me
before, ever! And I saw him coming to me with black-eye and bruises all
over once. Even then, he didn't text. I am really worried. I am so sorry,
Nathaniel!"

"Don't you dare feel bad, Richard! I will be by your side for the rest of
our lives. He needs help now! I trust your judgment."
"What did you just say?"
He just smiled weakly at me and turned back to the road.

I wish I could have had a place for thoughts like this. I wish I could
enjoy the feeling or even trouble over it, but now I just couldn't stop
thinking that Jerry was not answering.

"He isn't picking up," I said with worry when the line got disconnected
again.
Nate turned to me seriously and sped up. I buckled my seatbelt, and we
rode fucking fast! The weird thing was that I wasn't afraid in the least.
I just needed to get there as soon as possible, and I suppose I trusted
Nate with my life right now. I trusted him more than anyone ever.

We were silent the rest of the way.
Nate slowed when we got to Jerry's street and looked for the number.
"There, the second one on the left. Stop." I reached into the glovebox
for the key pouch.

We ran out of the car, and I jumped the stairs and took my keys out.
"You have the keys?"
I nodded. "We dated for over two years and lived here for six months," I
said as I opened the door and ran down the hall to the elevator.
We went up in tense silence, and I ran to Jerry's door the second the
elevator opened.
I banged on his door, but there was no answer.
I used the key and opened it slowly, worried and expecting the worst.

There were obvious signs of battle. I was really afraid for him now.
"Jerry!?" I shouted and looked for him in that mess.
It stank of cum, things were all over the place, and the room was dark.
How long did it take for us to get here?

"Rick?" We heard a weak voice in the corner of the room. I leaped to him
and took him into my arms.
"Jerry! Are you all right?"
"Not really. I am so sorry."
"Stop that nonsense. Wait here. I will turn on the light."
"I can do it. I see the switch."
"Who is here with you?"
"Nate, we are kind of dating. Can you move?"
"I can, but it hurts a lot."

"Fuck." The words came out of me as the light showed his state. He was
naked. That I knew, but he was beaten up hard. I will not go into gory
details, but if that fucker had still been here, I would have probably
needed Nate to stop me from beating that fucker to death!

I turned to Nate, and I don't think I had ever seen anyone that mad.
"How can I help?" He asked when he realized I had looked his way.
I just shook my head like I didn't know.
"Did you call the police?"
"He just left. I didn't have the time. And I don't know where my phone
is. He threw it somewhere when you called, and I told him you were
coming."

"I am calling Bill."
"No. Black gay with masochistic tendencies was beaten up. Who will take
me seriously?"
"He will."
"I just want to rest. I am glad it's over. And I don't want my parents to
know. They are too old. Worrying for me like this could really harm their
health."

It took us a couple of minutes to convince Jerry to call Bill, and I have
to say I was glad Nate took the role of a wise, calm friend, cos I was
raging like a madman. Nate was obviously angry, but he could somehow talk
on point and make some good ones.

It took another half hour for them to come. Nate found Jerry's phone and
handed it to him. We helped him get dressed and sat with him. Jerry told
us that the guy was a long-time daddy. Brute and sadistic, but it usually
stayed in line with Jerry's own needs and pleasure. But Jerry found out
the guy was married and confronted him about that. Jerry said that he
would tell his wife if he would not leave, and the guy took it really
badly. Their fight turned into an actual beating.

When Bill came with his partner, they sat down, and Jerry gave them an
even more detailed version. Bill was really amazing, and his partner was
this lady I had never met, but I loved her. She was attentive and caring.
They took some pictures, and we all went to the station.
I don't want to go into detail. I don't remember when was the last time I
felt this shitty from how scared and mad I was. Jerry was brave, but it
was visible that he was shaken badly.

They took Jerry to some room, and Nate and I sat in the hall and waited.
It took a long time. Nate was there for me, and I was never more
grateful.

. . .

It was nearly morning when we got out of there with Jerry and headed to
his flat. When we got there, Jerry fell on the floor in a panic attack.
It was painful and so scary. We managed to calm him down and sat on the
floor next to him holding him. He said that he was going to a hotel. He
couldn't stay here.

"Pack your things, Jerry. You are coming to our house. You can stay in
one of our rooms."
We both looked at Nate in astonishment.
"Why would you invite a stranger to live with you?
"Cos you can't stay here. Come." Nate was speaking in a resolute tone.
This wasn't a question. It was a statement. There was something in
Nate's eyes I couldn't figure out. I looked at Jerry and nodded.
"I agree with Nate. Pack your things, you will be safe there, and with
this pandemic going on, I think it would be better than being alone in a
hotel room for weeks."

He now started crying again, but we were pretty sure it was from being
grateful.
"Thank you." He whispered after a little while.


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I. Dusk