by
Mark 'Ponyboy' Peters
Chapter Twenty
When we left the Sexual Health Clinic I was armed with enough flyers, tip sheets and information packs to keep me reading for at least a week. I had a feeling I would soon be suffering from a case of information overload.
From there we went straight around to the hospital's pathology unit, where they were able to take the necessary blood samples, leaving me with a sore arm and a Band-Aid covering the puncture wound on the inside of my elbow. Try as I might, however, there was just no way I could fill a bottle with pee, so that would have to wait until later, then I could drop it off for them in the morning.
'So, did you get the full treatment from Chase?' Raffa enquired as we walked to my car.
He had said earlier that Chase was a lot of fun, and he was certainly that, so I could only guess that when Raffa had visited the clinic some time ago he had received the same treatment as I had today.
'And by that, you mean what exactly?'
'Let's see now. Did he get you totally nekkid?'
'Yeah. That was a bit weird at first, but he was cool. He reminded me about school showers, so I asked him if he was deliberately trying to get me hard?'
'Yeah, but did it work?'
'Like you wouldn't believe!' I said, with a laugh.
'And then?'
'Let's just say he's a hands-on kind of guy.'
'Yeah. And he's certainly good at his job,' Raffa added, with a laugh.
'I'll agree with that. Though, I do wonder if all those tests were truly necessary. I've never heard of semen getting tested.'
'Just Google it. You might be surprised.'
When we made it back to work, we were only about twenty minutes late, surprisingly, but at least it wouldn’t take me too long to work that time back up.
'What are you doing after work,' I asked Raffa before we went our separate ways.
'I have something on, so I'll talk to you later if you like.'
'Okay. Sounds good. And thanks for today. I really appreciate you helping me out.'
'What else are boyfriends for?' he whispered.
'I could think of a few things,' I replied, before we gave one another a fist bump.
I returned to the loading bay to see what Mike had saved up for me for the afternoon and found he had already gone to lunch, but had left a note with instructions. I set about making my deliveries to the shop floor then cleaning up and crushing boxes. At least this time I wouldn't be confronted by Tom Goodwin in the baler room, but all the same I was still nervous when I started work on the pile of rubbish that had been left there for me by the floor staff.
At different times during the afternoon both Hoppy and Raffa came out to deliver more rubbish and I managed to chat with them briefly. Before Raffa left me he looked quickly around the stockroom, then in one swift motion he pushed me back against the baler room wall and kissed me, leaning against me as he did so, making sure I felt the hardness that was contained within his pants. Instantly I placed a hand behind his head, my fingers weaving their way into his soft and longish hair, keeping him close as our mouths worked against each other.
It couldn't last, however, and we were soon interrupted by some harsh words coming from the doorway.
'What the fuck did I say earlier about keeping your dick in your pants, Porter?' Mike growled as we parted and guiltily looked his way.
The look he gave Raffa was filled with daggers. Apart from the fact that we had just been busted during work hours, I guess there was still some ill feeling between them from when Raffa had sent that text to Mike, saying that we had both said no, and asking what the cops might say to that.
Raffa jumped back and looked at Mike, while turning as white as a ghost, before bolting from the room.
'Nice one, Mike,' I said. He just winked at me and grinned.
* * * * *
The remainder of the day seemed to dawdle by, and by closing time I was certainly ready to get out of there, but I knew I needed to work back for a little while, to work up that bit of extra time I had taken at lunch.
The storm still hadn't totally passed as far as my being treated like a leper by some of my workmates, but it wasn't all bad news. Some people who I'd previously thought wouldn't even know my name at least were saying hello, or offering a smile. I wasn't sure if that was from genuine feelings, or perhaps they weren't smiles at all, maybe just awkward grimaces from having to associate with a known homosexual. But at least I wasn't being snarled at or abused, so that had to be a step in the right direction, I figured.
With everyone else being in the process of leaving, the stockroom was deadly quiet and largely in darkness, apart from the loading bay where I was working, and the Invoice office, as I knew Claire Brady was still working in there. I heard someone come through the swinging rubber doors from the store and looked up to see Raffa coming towards me.
'Thought I should come and say goodbye before I left,' he said to me as he approached.
I quickly put up my hand and motioned for him to stop, then I held a finger up to my mouth to let him know to be quiet, before pointing at Claire's office. He looked, then nodded, then started backing away and motioning for me to follow him, where we once again retreated into the baler room, which was in total darkness.
'Couldn't leave without one last kiss,' he said to me, before pulling me close to him, with his lips soon finding mine. Once again, our mouths worked against each other, before his tongue invaded my mouth, dancing along my teeth, and feverishly wrestling with my own tongue. I felt a hand snake down my body, grabbing hold of my rapidly expanding cock and rubbing it vigorously, sending waves of pleasure through me, then in an instant, he was gone, leaving me alone in the darkness.
'What the fuck?' I hoarsely whispered.
'Just wanted to make sure I stay in your head all night. See you in the morning,' the darkness whispered back, before moments later I heard the rubber doors slap against each other as he exited the stockroom.
I left soon afterwards, having served my time, and headed up to the car park, which was by now almost empty. For some reason the car park lights had not come on, and it was growing dark. I could see that there were a few cars scattered about and a couple of people here and there who were talking. There was a car parked a few places away from mine, but other than that I didn't take too much notice. It did register with me that the engine was running.
With my head still filled with thoughts of Raffa's tongue dancing inside my mouth and his hand on my cock I wasn't expecting what happened next, when moments later I was hit from behind with great force, just as I began to unlock my door and open it.
The door slammed shut as I collapsed against it, then I was roughly grabbed and hauled to my feet only to have a knee slammed into my guts and then be thrown to the ground once more. My head hit the concrete this time.
My eyes were barely open and as I lay on my side I could see his legs, but couldn't move my head to look up at whoever it might be. I sensed, more than saw, that there was another person there also. I think it was the sound of additional feet and some breathing that was different to that of my assailant, who was now standing over me and saying, 'Fuckin' faggot snitch.'
After that I was kicked from behind, with my kidneys copping the brunt of the force, then there was the sound of footsteps running, followed by that of car tyres squealing as they sped away. That much at least registered with me, but after that it all went hazy and dark.
* * * * *
I don't know how much time had gone by, but the next thing I recall was someone shaking my shoulder and saying, 'Grayson! Grayson! What happened?'
It was the voice of a woman. I could tell that much.
I was shaken again and this time my eyes opened, and a strange orange light seemed to be trying to get inside my head. Somehow, I was able to deduce that the carpark lights must have come on, so I couldn't have been out for very long.
There were other voices as well. And the sound of someone running. Things were beginning to register, even if my head and back still hurt like hell.
Someone helped me sit up and lean against the front tyre of my car, and it was only then that I managed to focus on who was around me. Claire Brady was there, kneeling beside me and holding my shoulder, as if she was afraid that I would topple over. I also recognised Simone Drew, the girl who had offered me some support recently. Fuck, so much had happened since then. I couldn't even remember when that was. There was somebody else, too. A man, wearing trousers. I tried to look up, but it wasn't easy. My neck hurt. My head hurt. He knelt down to my level. It was Mr Webster.
'You seem to be attracting a lot of attention lately, Grayson,' he said.
'Sorry about that,' I croaked.
He smiled at me. 'Well, at least you've still got your marbles intact.'
'Think a few of them might have fallen out,' I replied.
'Did anyone see what happened?' I heard him ask the others.
'No,' Claire replied.
'The lights hadn't come on, so it was a bit dark,' added Simone. 'I'd seen him when he crossed the carpark, as I was talking to some friends, but didn't see anything after that, at least not until when the lights came on and I noticed Gray lying there.'
'Can you remember anything at all Grayson?'
'There was a car with its engine running. It wasn't one I recognised. I went to unlock my door and got hit from behind, then got picked up and copped a knee in my stomach, followed by a kick to my back. And no, I didn't see him and I didn't recognise his voice. But I also think there was two of them.'
'What did your assailant say?'
'Fuckin' faggot snitch. That's all. Then I heard him, or them, running, then the squeal of car tyres. After that, things went dark.'
'And has anyone called the police as yet?' Mr Webster asked. I assumed he was talking to Claire and Simone.
'Not yet. I'll do it now,' Claire said.
'I think that would be a good idea.'
Yeah. I reckoned it would be. And come to think of it, I figured I needed to call home, as well as call Raffa.
As I heard Claire talking to the operators on 000, I managed to pull my phone from my pocket and switched it on, then opened the screen to make a call. All my recent calls showed and I soon clicked on the phone icon beside my mother’s name, then clicked the speaker icon, so I didn't have to put the phone to my ear. She answered on the second ring.
'Let me guess, you're doing something with Raffa again?' she said.
'No,' I croaked. 'Not today.'
'Are you okay? You sound like shit!'
'Mum . . . I . . . ummm . . .' I began to say, but that was as far as I got. My head was still spinning and my tongue was sticking to the roof of my dry mouth.
'Grayson? What's happening? Where are you?' I could hear the panic that had quickly risen in her voice.
Mr Webster could see my discomfort and reached for my phone.
'Mrs Porter?' he asked.
'Yes. Who is this? What's going on?'
'I'm Glen Webster, Grayson's store manager. I'm afraid there has been an incident in the carpark involving Grayson after work this afternoon. Grayson is okay, but you might want to come down here if that's possible.'
'What sort of incident?'
'It might be best if you could come down here.'
'I'm on my way,' I heard her say, before the line went dead.
In the distance I could hear a siren, just as Mr Webster handed my phone back to me. Then another siren joined in the chorus before moments later a police car and then an ambulance turned into the carpark and came screaming up the ramp to the level that we were on.
Red and blue lights were flashing all around us, and with orange glow from the carpark lights it was feeling like a disco. For a few moments the sirens were deafening, but thankfully they silenced these just as soon as the vehicles came to a stop.
To be continued . . .
Authors Note:
Hi there. It has been a while since I have posted anything new on Nifty. I guess life gets in the way sometimes.
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