Date: Tue, 26 Mar 2002 01:06:34 +0000
From: Java Biscuit <javabiscuit@hotmail.com>
Subject: Corbusier, chapter eight

This is a story involving teen/teen, male/male graphic sex
and not intended for reading by minors. If you are a minor,
or this type of material is illegal where you live, please stop
now, and go read something else! This story is a fantasy
meant only for the purpose of pleasurable reading.

Other stories of mine can now be found in the prolific
writers index.

Feedback, always appreciated, may be sent to:
javabiscuit@hotmail.com


Corbusier ~ chapter eight

by Biscuit


It wasn't to me that Colin opened up his mouth about
his life. Not back then, and little since. Any number
of reasons, really. He's told me that he didn't want
to burden me with it, that I was young, that I was
innocent. That's what he says, anyway. I think he was
ashamed. I suspect that even if I'd been older he
wouldn't have told me the things he told Joe. In the
years since, when I've asked him about Sean Fahey,
he says, "That's a long time ago. I don't think about
it."

It was Joe who drew it out of him. She was tougher
than he was and didn't know the meaning of none of
your business. Plus, she guessed stuff. Joe looked at
Colin and saw things invisible to me and my mom.
She'd been, as she put it -- in the life -- long enough
to recognize a kind of youngster she'd come to know.
Maybe it came from tending bar and hearing so many
stories. But she looked at him and saw a kid who had
nowhere to go and suspected the reasons why. Either
a family that wouldn't accept him, she said, or abuse
of some kind. "Unfortunately," she told me once, "it's
not so uncommon. I guess I've seen it too much."

All I knew at the time was that after breakfast Joe
conscripted him to shovel snow. And when I looked
out the window at them, Colin was doing the shoveling,
with Joe keeping pace, her arms across her chest. It
looked like Colin was talking, stopping to lean on the
shovel. His face was so serious, I was scared. I was
afraid she would drive him away.

But when I went out there, Colin clammed up and
Joe said, "It's cold out here, get your candy ass
back in the house."

And I did. Even though I was dying to stay there
and hear what they were saying. It was clear that
as long as I was out there, nobody was going to say
anything. Sure enough, when I looked out again,
Colin was talking and Joe was the one who was
frowning.

My mom saw me watching.

"Guy stuff," she said. Jesus.

"What am I -- one of the girls?" She raised her
eyebrow at me, and I quickly added, "Don't
answer that."

Colin, to me, was a beautiful boy, full of mystery.
I knew, from where I'd met him and how I'd met
him that his life was very different from mine. But
what made up those differences I couldn't imagine,
beyond the scary tastes I'd gotten in the park and at
that movie house.

The thing is, Joe could imagine it, all too well.

"He might as well have gotten off a bus from the
middle of nowhere," I heard her say to my mom.
"They walk away with nothing, just because they
can't take it any more."

Can't take what? I was in the hall. They were in the
laundry room and Colin was still outside, shoveling
snow.

"But Joe," my mom said, "you can't just take him
on like that."

"I don't see why not," she laughed. "Your future
son in law."

"Oh God."

"It's not as bad as it could be. Colin's not as young
as he looks, which is a good thing. He says he's
tended bar since he was seventeen. Totally illegal
but what can you expect with that asshole he's been
with. Believe me, in the right bar, with that face of
his, he'll be making more money than I am."

"A bartender?"

"Imagine that," Joe said low, like a tease.

"But ..."

"But what? It's not like you get to choose, they do.
I think they're pretty fucking cute together. Not
as cute as you," she said, her voice dropping.

I couldn't hear anything after that except some noise
that sounded a lot like kissing. I made some loud
shuffling sounds, dragging my laundry bag on the
floor.

Joe thought we were cute!

I can't count the things I have to thank Joe for in my
life, but her frank assessment of Colin and willingness
to help him are right up there at the top of the list. So
much, she's done for me.

Colin was quiet when he came inside. It was so strange
to have him there. Subdued. Not quite the boy I was
used to who'd grab me and tell me he wanted to fuck
me. Around my mom, especially, it was like his vocal
chords had been cut.

Probably it was because she wanted some time alone
with my mother, but whatever the reason, Joe made
that afternoon for us when she tossed Colin her car
keys and suggested he take me for a cruise. It was
the first time all day I saw his eyes light with life.

Oh man, was I excited. I was playing with the big
boys now; my boyfriend and a car. This was major
league like I'd never experienced before. The stuff
of movies. I didn't even know anybody but regular
grownups with cars.

My mom didn't look so happy.

"Are you a safe driver?" she asked him. Colin met
her eyes for the first time in forever, and smiled.

"Don't worry. I'll bring him home safe and sound.
You just say when you want him back." I think he was
as pleased to have a way to show her she could trust
him as anything else. A small thing maybe, to take me
out and bring me home safe at a specified time, but it
was a start.

Joe's car was so hot. A battered, hard-roofed jeep,
black with black trim. Everything about being in that
car with him thrilled me. The way he looked behind
the wheel made my dick so hard I felt like climbing
into his lap and fucking him on the spot.

We headed north up the parkway. Not far, really. As
far as it took to find a likely place to park. I'd been
to the River Museum once, and remembered the site
as pretty. At least it had been in spring. That winter
afternoon it was stark, and few people were around.
A scattered handful of cars in the lot.

Colin did talk, a little. I made him, asking him what
he and Joe had been talking about all that time outside.

"Just stuff," he said.

"Like what?" I pushed a little. Colin played with
the gear shift, thinking.

"I've got some things going on at home," he said.
"I told her I was thinking about finding a place and
she said she'd help me out." He gave me a quick look,
and he smiled. "Didn't your mom ever tell you not
to scrunch up your face like that?"

He would say so much, and no more.

What it lacked in the comforts of my bed, making
out in Joe's jeep made up for in glamour. Colin was
on guard, in a way. Like on the subway. He never got
so carried away that he lost track of our perimeter,
like a soldier, through the rearview and side mirrors.
He did it even as he keyed me up to the boiling point
with his kissing, with his hand stroking my cock. At
one point he said to me, "I dream about your dick,"
and I just about died. Near the end he bent over me
and started sucking and I exploded in his mouth. God,
was I loud, but I couldn't shut myself up. I sounded
like I was taking punches when I started shooting off.

Bastard laughed at me as he was wiping his mouth,
but I loved it. Seeing him smiling, knowing the shine
on his lips was from me. I was grinning too, feeling
like I was about the luckiest guy in the whole world.
There was a blossoming sensation inside me. I didn't
know all the whys and wherefores of it but I felt it
like an expanding pleasure. That time in the jeep,
when I wrapped my hand around the warm shaft of
his cock and lost myself in sucking him, it was the
best I'd ever felt it.

I think it was the easing of fear, in both of us, that
made every suck of his dick sweeter for me. I made
him squirm for it until he trapped my head against
his stomach to fuck my mouth. So good to feel him
swollen up out of control and spurting. I made him
kiss me after, until our lips were practically numb
and we were in danger of needing to start over
again. When he nudged me away from him, pushing
me back in my seat, I felt this unstoppable grin come
over my face, so out of control that I hung my head
down to try to hide it.

"What?" he said.

"Nothing," I said, trying to wave his attention away
from me. But I laughed out loud. All I could think of,
right then, was him telling my mother, "I love him."

I think I nursed that grin all the way home, watching
the world fly by in the colors of winter sunset.

He got me home in plenty of time to meet my mom's
deadline. The four of us sat down at the table again,
for soup this time around. I don't think, on our own,
that my mom and I ever sat down at the table together
twice in a day for a meal. We tended to drift into the
kitchen as the mood or hunger struck. Sometimes
together, more often not. We did it now when Joe
was around.

Colin was quiet but more relaxed, like he'd earned the
right to be there by shoveling walkways and bringing
me home. He was done haunting my life, not a ghost
through the glass any more. And like magic, I felt
more real, right along with him.