Date: Sat, 1 Feb 2014 07:40:34 -0800 (PST) From: Seth Kirkcauldy Subject: Brother Mine 5 Brother Mine Chapter 5 copyright 2013 Seth Kirkcauldy seth-kirkcauldy@sbcglobal.net ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This story may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the author's permission. The author grants the Nifty Archive a non-exclusive, worldwide, royalty-free, perpetual, and non-cancellable license to display this work. This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are a product of the author's imagination, or used fictitiously. This story contains erotic situations between brothers not yet of a legal age. If it is illegal for you to read this, or you just think it's yucky, please leave now. Please donate to the Nifty Archive. Part 1: Aiden It was Monday morning and Aiden awoke to discover it was humid and dark in his bedroom. Well, no, he realized that wasn't entirely accurate when the confusion of his dreams fell away. It was merely dark and humid in Connor's ass where his face was deeply pressed. Connor was asleep on his stomach and Aiden was face down in his ass, his lips pressed up against his hole and his tongue now squirming lazily in that callipygian cleft. He considered raising his head and checking the time, but did not for two good reasons: one, he did not want to; he was exactly where he most wished to be; and two, he was tethered in place. A leather belt encircled the back of Aiden's neck and then wound around the tops of Connor's thick thighs; it was presumably latched somewhere in front, effectively anchoring Aiden's face deep in the musky crevice of his older brother. Aiden's memory of what led to this captivity was a bit hazy, but he remembered Connor had wanted Aiden to stay licking in his ass until they both fell asleep. He seemed to recall that Connor had awoken twice during the night and found that Aiden had somehow migrated around and was sleeping with his cock in his mouth instead. He remembered him saying something like: "Goddammit, Spaz, you're the one that got me hooked on your tongue in my ass. Now keep your fucking tongue in my ass." The laughter in Connor's sleepy voice was pronounced. After discovering Aiden sleep-sucking the second time, he found the belt and strapped them together. Aiden thought this was a brilliant solution. Connor suddenly groaned hoarsely somewhere above him and reached a big hand around to brush Aiden's hair gently; then that hand pushed the back of his head deeper into his ass. Aiden obediently licked harder and faster, and then snaked his tongue through the tight opening to lick the smooth channel inside. He was rewarded with a deep moan. There was some fumbling, and then the jingle of a belt buckle; the pressure on the back of his neck was suddenly released. Connor rolled over on his back and Aiden suddenly found himself taking in a gulp of fresh air and blinking in the bright morning light. He also found himself between Connor's legs and facing his morning erection. Connor waggled his eyebrows at him from where he lay back on his pillow, one arm behind his head in Aiden's favorite pose. "Good morning little brother," he said. Aiden grinned, and then leaned forward, closed his eyes, and gently kissed Connor's hard cock. He let his tongue out to wrap around the head in a long, wet kiss, and then drew back and looked back up at Connor. Connor patted his chest, the left pectoral where his nipple poked out of a mat of red-gold hair. "Come up here. Lay your head right here." It was the only enticement that could draw Aiden away from his cock: the offer of intimacy of a different sort, less common and more valuable. He moved quickly to get in position, hissing through some discomfort. "Yeah, I thought so," Connor said, pulling his brother's head down to his chest with a big hand. Then it swooped around to the back of Aiden's neck where he massaged the muscles with his strong fingers. Aiden groaned in relief. "I should have thought about how your neck would feel this morning," Connor sighed. "I wish I was better at this." Aiden idly wondered how Connor could be better than perfect; it seemed an odd goal. He knew better than to voice this thought, however. Connor chuckled; it vibrated through Aiden's body like a carnal earthquake. "You smell like my ass, Spaz." Aiden couldn't actually smell that anymore; his brain was soaked so thoroughly in the scent that it was now ignoring it and picking other things out of the air. There was a particularly spicy smell coming from Connor that Aiden was just becoming aware of, it smelled like Connor's normal scent, but concentrated in such a way that it made Aiden instantly hard. He nuzzled his head into Connor's pectoral muscle, kissing his nipple gently. He continued rotating his head until he found the scent: Connor's armpit. It was moist and warm, with a sheen of sweat on the red-gold thatch of hair. Aiden's cock thrummed at the dark masculine smell, and without a thought he pressed his face into that musky cavern and gently began to lick the salty brine from the hair and skin. "Holy..." Connor tossed his head a few times on the pillow, and then turned to watch his brother lapping at his armpit; mere inches away. "You know that's fucking weird, yeah?" he asked, but his voice was husky and he made no other move to stop Aiden. In fact, Connor's other hand halted its massage and cupped the back of Aiden's head, applying a small pressure that spoke in contradiction to his words. Aiden smiled and rubbed his face in the warmth of the pit before resuming his careful cleaning of every hair. He loved it here in this warm spot, surrounded by Connor and tasting the salty-loam flavor of his body; held in place by his strength and his will; anchored by the tethers of touch, those places where their atoms shared space down the length of Connor's big, muscular body. But the best part was the closeness of Connor's face. Aiden could feel each puff of warm breath, straight from the depths of Connor's lungs, the grunginess of his morning breath, the prickle of whiskers when he moved. Connor's face was RIGHT THERE, as close as a kiss. Aiden released his caution and threw himself fully into his service, pretending it was Connor's mouth under his lips. He made love to his armpit, letting his tongue unfold and explore, sucking and nuzzling at the tender flesh. He heard Connor's breathing hitch, and feared that Connor suspected what he was doing, what he was pretending. He expected Connor's discomfort to bring it all to a halt, especially when he felt the hand disappear from the back of his head. But then he felt the rhythm rocking his body and he knew what that hand was doing. Connor was stroking his big dick while Aiden made love to his armpit. Connor's breaths were coming faster and he was grunting right in Aiden's ear, a primal communication that had his whole body pulsating with desire, making Aiden's erection strain against Connor's muscular thigh, leaving trails of silvery fluid in the hair. He closed his eyes against the overwhelming intimacy, blindly caressing and laving at Connor's tender flesh, lips parting and then sucking in an open-mouthed kiss against hair and skin. And then Connor was tensing all the muscles in his body, contracting tightly until he was a single, solid core composed of nothing but his cock. The air smelled suddenly of bleach and pleasure, and Aiden was instantly up on his knees and wrapping his lips around the straining, spitting head, and slurping and swallowing what had not escaped in the initial geyser. The sprays of semen filled his mouth in tempo with Connor's heartbeat, making him feel as if he was drinking his life. It was salty and warm and plentiful; Aiden swallowed it with tremendous pleasure, groaning as he sank down the cock's length to clean, comfort, and worship it. He was faintly dizzy with emotion, feeling so many conflicting things in his chest that he was afraid he'd start crying; and he needed to avoid that for Connor. So he hid his face in Connor's crotch, sucking and licking gently, while Connor's breathing slowed and evened out. Connor finally tapped his head lightly. "Back to school today, Spaz. You need to go shower and wash the smell of my ass off of your face." "Connor, please let me keep..." Connor laughed in exasperation. "Wash your fucking face, Spaz. You smell rank." "Okay, Connor." Aiden would obey, but the thought of going to school without the armor of Connor on his skin was terrifying. He took a shallow, shaky breath and tried to calm his welling panic. Connor watched him with a sad smile on his face. Then he softly said, "I wore my jock all day yesterday, Spaz, even after I left the gym. I dropped it over there in the floor so you could... well, you know, wear it to school today." The words seemed to make Connor uncomfortable. Aiden looked up at him silently. He didn't know why Connor did these things for his strange brother; Aiden knew he was nothing to look at. His stringy red-orange hair was clownish, his scrawny chest was sunken, and his legs and ass were thin and bony. Aiden had nothing to offer Connor, and ever since Connor arrived home, Aiden had been nothing but trouble for him. He got to his feet and started making his way toward the bathroom for his icy morning shower. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob. "I love you, Connor," he whispered. The shower was not as numbing as usual; something was going on inside him with which his normal tricks were just not helping. It wasn't his feelings for Connor, he knew. He'd been in love with Connor for years, and the fact that Connor was only now noticing didn't really change the way that Aiden felt. It was more like a sense of impending doom welling up from his depths; the fact that he now had something that he wanted to keep meant that it would likely be taken from him. He had something that it would cost him to lose. He cupped his hands in front of his face to trap the scent on his skin and inhaled Connor deeply before finally scrubbing him away. He watched the suds circle the drain with a morbid sense of dread. It was odd to be feeling this way when he was happy for the first time in probably ten years; but that happiness made him vulnerable, and made him want to hunch himself around the fragile thing to protect it. But he feared he wasn't up to the task; he had never successfully protected anything. Aiden's jaw fell open in astonishment when Connor suddenly moved the shower curtain aside and stepped into the water with him. "Jesus fucking Christ!" Connor yelped loudly as the icy water struck him. He glared at Aiden and growled, "Are you fucking insane?" He adjusted the water to his liking: hot and steamy. Aiden felt the warmth immediately settling into his bones, but the comfort scared Aiden; he knew he'd have to pay for it. He paid for everything good that happened to him eventually. But he couldn't dwell on that for very long when Connor was naked and wet in front of him. "C'mere and get warm, Spaz," Connor said gruffly, and pulled Aiden under the hot spray. Their bodies touched in three places; Aiden could feel them glowing like hot coals in his mind: there, and there and there. And then he was enveloped in warm arms that held him up against a hard, muscular body. "Get warm, Spaz. Then I want you to wash me." Aiden was quaking, but not with cold. He could feel Connor's mouth turn up in a smile where it was pressed against the top of his head. The reason was that Aiden's cock popped straight up and out of his crotch the moment that Connor said "wash me"; Connor found the effect of his voice on Aiden's body a source of vast amusement. Aiden started to take the washcloth, but then pumped some shower gel directly into his hand instead. He turned to face Connor and began slowly spreading the gel over his shoulders, arms and chest. It was easily the most erotic thing he'd ever done; and that was a surprising thought to a boy who'd spent the night licking this man's ass. His ideas about sex and love had evolved in the past few days. Connor hummed under his hands as Aiden's palms brushed over both nipples and then slid into the armpits. Connor casually lifted both arms over his head, giving Aiden full access. Aiden's throat was completely dry when confronted with the body suddenly gifted to him, and he had to suppress a cough. He focused solely on his fingertips swirling the soapy suds around on that hot, wet skin. He took another handful of gel and massaged the conditioning soap into Connor's chest hair, abdomen, navel, and crotch. He looked over the young god's glistening body, trailing his hands through the slippery suds. "Poetry in lotion," he whispered to himself with a smile. He stroked Connor's heavy, soft cock just a few times and watched, fascinated, as the soap drained off the hooded head in a white torrent. It looked like a stream of cum flowed from the tip. Aiden caressed his balls, washing behind them carefully with one hand while he hefted the heavy sac with the other. Then Aiden got on his knees, gently peeled back the foreskin, and used his tongue to thoroughly clean the ridge of Connor's cock while its owner threw back his head and sighed. Connor only let him suck and lick for a few minutes before touching the side of his head. Aiden rose, took a third pump of gel and then squatted again to carefully wash Connor's thighs, calves, and feet. The feet fascinated him; they were large and beautifully shaped like the rest of Connor. The tops were already tanned, and red-gold hair curled on the joint of each toe. Aiden licked the flat of his tongue along the top of each foot, and then pressed a soft kiss to it. He thought he heard Connor give a grunt above him. He was up again to get another pump of gel while Connor slowly turned around, giving Aiden access to his muscular shoulders, back and ass. Aiden traced the definition of each muscle and massaged down the sides of his spine, digging his thumbs into the thick flesh he found there. This brought more grunts from Connor, and a deep groan. Finally, there was only the dark crevice of his ass left, and Aiden went so slowly there that Connor finally laughed in exasperation. "We're running out of hot water, Spaz. You spent the night there; surely you've had enough." Not nearly enough, Aiden didn't say. But he quickly sluiced off the soap, using his hands to ensure Connor was thoroughly rinsed. As Connor shut off the taps, Aiden grabbed a clean, fluffy towel to start drying him off. "I'd love that, but you're gonna get cold again if you stand there wet, and you're going to be late this morning. I'll dry myself. You need to rush things and get your ass to school." Aiden stepped out of the shower to give Connor more room, and grabbed his own towel to quickly dry himself. He ran into the bedroom, sniffed Connor's jock approvingly before pulling it on - it would serve as armor just fine - and was fully dressed by the time Connor wandered back into the room. "You do the research I asked for?" "Yes. I printed out all the important parts. It's there on my desk." Aiden gestured to some pages that were stacked under a small, purple notebook. It was every salient thing he could find on homeschooling; and Aiden thought it was pretty promising. Connor nodded once, glanced at the papers and then out the window. Aiden could see that his brother's mind was already pondering whatever tasks he'd set for himself that day, so Aiden grabbed his backpack and headed toward the door. "Spaz? You look real good today." Aiden blushed deeply and looked down at his new clothes. They really did look good on him. He grinned a little shakily and then ran through their door, down the stairs, and out into the world. The morning was holding its breath. Aiden could see it in the way the sun was hidden behind the clouds; it was definitely up in the sky where it belonged at this time of day, but huddled in thick blankets of cloud that left a dingy grey smear of light on everything. It reminded Aiden of the trepidation he had felt in the shower earlier, when everything was grey and cold before Connor had joined him and brought warmth and life back to him. He tapped at his waistband with one hand while he shifted the weight of his backpack and trudged over the streets toward the school. He reminded himself what he wore under his jeans. Then he smiled. These weren't even stolen from Connor this time; they were gifted. He wasn't at all used to wearing a jock, and the straps felt strange upon his legs and ass. He wasn't even sure if he had it on right; but the odd feeling of it under his clothes helped keep its presence firmly in his mind, a shield against the grey light and the cruelty of school. But the morning was holding its breath. The birds in the forest normally raised a raucous cacophony to rival even the noise in Aiden's head. The cardinals were typically like smears of blood, dripping between the trees as they called to one another. And the jays! Aiden was sure they imagined their blue feathers to mean they were peacocks, the way they always strutted and cackled at all the other birds. But not on this morning. It was mid-May, but the forest and street held the silence of deep winter; and that icy feeling of February when a person could forget that the world was only asleep and not truly dead. Aiden quickened his steps, frowning. He didn't understand why he couldn't just allow himself to feel happiness. If the world did not punish him for being happy, then he punished himself. He knew he'd have to pay for his happiness. Anything of value came at a price; and there was nothing more valuable than Connor. The morning was holding its breath. He was certain of it. There were no people out this morning; no dog-walkers, porch-sitters, lawn-mowers, Starbucks- drinkers, nor errand-runners. There was nothing moving in the bleary light but Aiden, walking quickly along the side of the road, his thoughts slowly stripped to ribbons by the sharp edges of his shattered mind. There weren't even any cars on the road, until one finally drove past him. It stopped in the street just a bit ahead of him, the red of its brake lights providing stylized coloring across the grey palette of everything else. All the doors opened and ejected passengers, four boys that Aiden knew with painful intimacy. "Hello, faggot," Trevor said brightly. And the morning exhaled. Part 2: Connor Roughly four days ago I decided my brother needed some physical closeness to help him heal some of his brokenness, and last night I tied his face to my ass. I can't help thinking that somewhere in the past few days my life has gone off the fucking rails. I watched from our bedroom window as Spaz shuffled down our street and out of sight. He was walking a little funny and I suspected he'd put my jock on wrong; he probably had no idea how to wear one. I was honestly a bit relieved not to find it wrapped around his face, although I have no doubt his face spent a bit of time in the pouch before he finally pulled it on. The one thing I can count on with my brother is that he'll do the weirdest thing possible, especially if my cock is in any way involved. My cock twitched to remind me that it was his favorite thing about Aiden; not that I needed any reminding. My life had taken a pretty drastic swerve to the left in the past few days, and I needed to map out a new course. I'm fine that everything had changed; but I needed a new plan that incorporated the reality of my new status with Aiden in with college and girlfriends and summer jobs. Real life was not pausing just because I discovered my little brother could suck cock like a champ. Yeah, okay, GRAND champ. The best. Ever. I was supposed to be focused on my new plan, but the plan had so many holes in it, it looked like Spaz's hand-me-down jeans I just threw away yesterday. Fucking stupid worn-out jeans. The kid looked great this morning in his new clothes; he really did. I found I was smiling fondly, and that's just irritating. I should not be staring off into space thinking about Aiden and grinning; that's fucking messed up. He doesn't even have breasts. I pushed the purple notebook aside and grabbed up the research on homeschooling. The good news was that the requirements for home schooling a high school student were no different than home schooling a child of any age in Ohio. The better news was that the schooling did not have to be provided by the parent, although it did require parental consent. And the best news was that the provider only had to have a high school diploma. There were a lot of assessments and so forth that would have to be completed along the way; but getting started just required filling out a form and submitting it to the Superintendent of Schools. The form was helpfully provided on the bottom of the sheaf of papers. In fact, it had all been filled in. And a penciled note in the margin read: "I'm good at forging Mom's signature. Let me know." I snorted, but shook my head. We needed to do this the right way; I didn't want it all falling apart just when he started getting his feet back under him. I know that removing Aiden from society is not a strong long-term plan; he's got to learn how to fit in and survive. But I've heard it said many times that high school is NOT like real life; it's a scary social stew that poisons many people before they drag themselves out of it. I needed to get Spaz through his teen years alive and then we could focus on coping with society. Step one, make sure he's safe. While this part was very encouraging, my conversation with Dad over the weekend was a bit less conclusive. I had brought Aiden home on Saturday morning from the lake and then headed up to Cleveland to discuss a few things with Dad; and to say it went poorly would be a fucking understatement. He's normally an even-tempered and clear-thinking guy; kind of mellow, but not where Aiden is concerned. He was angry that I'd overheard his conversation with Ma; he was angry that I agreed with her that involuntarily committing Aiden into a mental hospital was not the right move. He was even angry I'd snuck Aiden back out of the house rather than have him face them. I swallowed my own anger and waited to see if he'd cool off. I spent Saturday evening watching some ball games with him, and we even hung out on Sunday morning doing some yard work. We were planting some shit around his driveway when I brought up the outpatient option as a sort of compromise. He had merely grunted and then said: "your mother will never go for it if it comes out of her money." "But if I get her to agree?" I pressed. He grunted again and nodded; so I got back to planting so he wouldn't see my smile. He asked me about my success in finding a summer job and I had to admit that wasn't going very well but I had a small lead on a tutoring role. He stopped what he was doing and looked up at me. "Tutoring?" I could tell his BS meter was clanging out warnings. It's not like I was a Rhodes Scholar. "Uh... I was thinking of helping Aiden get through the rest of this year, yeah?" His eyes narrowed as he looked at me. "He's a better student than you ever were. He'd only need your help with picking up girls, and I really don't think that's going to be happening. What's this about?" "It's about getting him out of that school. They're hurting him." "He needs to learn how to..." "They're HURTING him." "No, Connor." I enunciated slowly: "HURTING. HIM." "Teach him to fight." "That'd be as successful as teaching you to care." Okay, I tend to be a pretty laid-back guy like my dad; but I guess - just like my dad - I got a little spun up when Aiden was the topic. I should've handled that conversation better and unfortunately my approach got me the result that I deserved. One win. One loss. It left me with a lukewarm feeling of mediocrity; it was like kissing your sis... uh, broth... oh, for fuck's sake. So I missed spending most of the weekend with Spaz so that I could screw up the discussion with my dad; and that pretty much sucked. At least Aiden had been able to spend that time finding me the answers I needed for the home schooling portion of my plot for world domination. I was throwing the research notes down on Spaz's desk when my eyes trailed back to the notebook. Purple. Are you fucking kidding me? Jesus Christ, I'll kick his ass myself when he gets home. He is NOT helping me to protect him. I thumbed through the notebook while deciding an appropriate method of torture and punishment; and then I dropped the thing like it burned me. No, no, no, no, no. I did not see that. I squinted at the writing down on the floor, but it still said the same thing. Aiden's large scrawl across the top of the page proclaimed: MY PLAN TO GET CONNOR TO FUCK ME. Oh fuck. Oh fuckity-fuck-fuck-fuck. I took a deep breath; but it didn't help. I bent down and got the notebook back in hand and read the short list of Spaz's "plan". Here is what it said: MY PLAN TO GET CONNOR TO FUCK ME: 1. Do absolutely everything he tells me. Maybe he'll reward me? 2. Withhold oral until he's horny enough. (This entry was scratched out...) 3. Buy lubricant. Lots and lots and lots and lots of lubricant. 4. Leave this notebook where Connor can find it. I rolled my eyes and then pinched the bridge of my nose. I had no fucking idea what I was going to do with that kid. But I did know I wasn't doing THAT. Nope. Uh-uh. Big. Line. Crossed. I sighed and tossed the notebook on his desk. I'd have to talk to him about it when he got home. Fuck; that'd be fun. I spent most of the day putting in job applications in the high paying fields of food service and retail. My best prospect was a friend of mine who was doing exterior painting for a construction company and he thought he could get me on a crew. He said they got real busy during the summer months and always needed help. That would be awesome because it paid well, was outdoors, and only involved French fries if I decided I wanted them for lunch. I finished up the job hunt in time to swing by the school just as it was letting out for the afternoon. I parked in the same place as I did the prior Friday; sure that Spaz would be looking for me this time. The surge of students out the door was disorienting, but I was pretty certain I'd be able to pick him out of the crowd. Orangey hair is easy to spot, and he didn't have a hat on this morning; although I should probably also be looking for a kid with my jock on his head, because that was completely feasible. He wasn't there. The spill of students became a trickle; and he wasn't there. I sat for a few minutes, tapping my finger lightly on the steering wheel and thinking. Before I'd even really registered the movement, I had launched myself out of the car and was loping quickly through the school doors. I tried to remember my way to Coach's office from the meeting I'd had with him the prior Friday, but I'd never gone to school in this building and I took two wrong turns. I knew I should check in to the office to keep from being arrested, but my heart was suddenly thumping so loudly in my chest that I heard its echoes in my ears. I met a few stragglers closing their lockers; but no one with orange-red hair like the Heat Miser from that old Christmas movie with the little stop-motion puppets. God, Aiden loved that movie. I was finding it hard to breathe. Coach's office. I banged open the door and he looked up with a glare, then saw it was me and changed to confusion. "Did you see Aiden today?" His eyes opened wider and he shook his head. "Absent; I went to his homeroom this morning to check on him." "Oh God," I whispered. "I take it he wasn't home sick. Could he have skipped today? Friend's house?" "No. I told him to go to school; that's what he would do. He... he doesn't have any friends." "Hold on; I'll be back in a minute." Coach left his office and closed the door behind him, leaving me in his sweaty little concrete room. What was I going to do? I needed to call the police, of course. And Ma. And start driving the streets looking for him. But what if he made it home and no one was there? Coach barreled back into the room, grabbing his coat. "The boys; the ones that hurt him?" I nodded. "All absent." "Oh, fuck." I dropped into the chair; my legs could no longer hold me. I thought I was going to throw up. "The office is calling the police now. Let's go meet them out in front of the school." I was back up and following him through the grey corridors; not really seeing the depressing, colorless hallways. A primal fear was clawing its way out of my stomach and into my throat. I promised I would protect Aiden. Time was suddenly telescoping in a surreal manner. The lockers were sliding by on either side of me, and then I was talking to police officers. Then I was talking to Ma. Then I was in the forest. Then I was in my car playing cloak-and-dagger. Then, finally, at the end of the day, I was in hell. My mind seemed to be breaking with reality; I wondered if this is how things felt to Spaz. The cops were telling me that Aiden was very likely a runaway and we'd hear from him in a day or two. They assured me that they'd be looking for him; there was no 24 hour waiting period for children. They would start with checks on registered sex offenders in the area. I told them to check at the homes of the boys who had been tormenting him, but they looked at me oddly and wondered why he'd go there. "He wouldn't go there WILLINGLY." I think I was frothing at the mouth by this time. Ma was even more relaxed than the stupid cops. "Con, he probably got lost on the way to school. Check in the forest. Remember when you had to draw him a map to the bathroom in our house?" Unfortunately, this was true; and it made my chest hurt. Sometimes the noise in Aiden's head got so loud that he couldn't remember how to do simple things. And beneath her lackadaisical manner, Ma actually had a point about the forest. I didn't think Spaz was lost - that didn't really happen anymore - but he might be there just the same, hurt or unconscious. "Connor," Coach's meaty hand was on my shoulder and I looked at it and wondered how it got there. Then I noticed that the rest of Coach was attached to it. "Connor, you're not looking good. I think you should sit down for a minute." "I have to find him. He's not here." "Of course we'll find him. But you're going to take everyone's attention away from Aiden if you keep acting so erratically." I didn't want that. So I sat down right there on the sidewalk and hung my head down to get the blood flowing to it and tried not to think of Spaz all covered in mud and blood. I launched back up to my feet. "I have to check the forest." "Connor!" Coach started jogging behind me. "Wait, I'll come with you." We spent the next two hours under the trees and in the brush shouting Aiden's name. We ran into several joggers who all stopped to join us when they realized what we were doing. It was frightening and haunting to hear Aiden's name echoing through the craggy trees from voices of people I did not know. We heard blood-red cardinals and peacock-blue blue jays and dogs and people and cars. But we did not hear Aiden. "All right, Connor, I don't think he's here. This area is not that big and we've combed through all of it." The coach's hand was back on my shoulder. "What I'm going to do now is drive by the houses of those other boys, starting with their ringleader. I'd hoped the cops would start there, but they don't seem interested." "I'll come with you." "No, you won't. There's absolutely no positive outcome in that scenario. What you need to do now is go home and see if he's there. Check the messages there, too." "I've called home multiple times. He's not there." "Or he's just not picking up." I shook my head. There was no good way to explain that Aiden would never allow my calls to go unanswered. He'd drag his broken body over shattered glass to the phone. Okay, I seriously did not need to be thinking of images like that. "Go home. I will call you as soon as I've visited them all. We'll get to the bottom of this tonight." "All right. That sounds like a good plan." I tried to make my sudden acquiescence sound authentic. "And Coach? Thank you." He clapped his hand on my shoulder like he always use to do when I was wearing football pads. We walked quickly back to the school and got in our respective cars. Good; his was red; that would help. Coach set out on his way to the first boy's house, and I waited till he was just out of sight before I pulled around to follow him. It suddenly felt to me as if the evening was holding its breath. * I appreciate hearing from people who are reading my stories. Shoot me an email and let me know what you think. Your feedback is the only way I know you're reading and whether or not it makes sense to continue. I have other stories, too. Look up Seth Kirkcauldy in the author's section. seth-kirkcauldy@sbcglobal.net