Date: Wed, 25 Nov 2009 16:21:38 -0600 From: Andy West Subject: Asleep On The Beach Chapter 35 Chapter 35 -- Demons Aren't Always Bad Disclaimer: Under-aged sexual relationships are recorded beyond this point. If this is not legal in your corner of the world, perhaps you should not continue. If these things are offensive to you, how have you made it this far into my little tale. Please, if you have made it this far, I'd hope you continue the journey with us. Writer's Notes: Well guys, it has been a nice long ride. So many have waited such a long time for this installment...I want to thank each of you for your patience for this chapter, and I have a lot to say at the end about my many discoveries along this journey with you. So, after you read this last chapter, please read on for the comments at the end. Thanks! I love each of you in a very interesting way, you have enriched my life with your support, love and companionship. Look for more stories on the horizon. As always, remember you'll receive a prompt courteous reply when you write to me at: andyoutwest@live.com or perhaps you would like to visit my story page at: http://weststories.altervista.org (and even if you do visit there...please let me know how you feel about the chapter!). Chapter 35 -- Demons Aren't Always Bad Lenny's perspective... Geee...I really dunno where to pick up here. It's been many weeks since Brant drug me down stairs and I found out I have gained a Step-Mother, and a Step-Brother! Kinda makes screwing around with Brant a tiny bit strange...but...since he was my boyfriend before he was my brother...we pretend like nothing has changed. Well...that's not true though. Because a freaking LOT has changed. I mean...none of us boys are the same after...well...after. We're just not. I don't know if I can explain it all. We are still trying to figure the shit out ourselves. I mean...think about it. This is a whole lot of "stuff" to deal with. And just as we think we got it all understood, we discover that we have to start all over. I mean, start all over with the healing. It's weird. Me and Brant can be lying in bed cuddling, both of us in our undies, and nearly asleep. All of a sudden a smell, a touch, a sound...some movement in the dark...who knows...something...and BAMO!!! All hell breaks loose in our guts again. There is just no way I can tell you how many nights I have held sweet Brant as he trembles in his sleep. Trembles. Like it was 30 degrees in here in bed with me. I get so scared when he is like that and he is asleep. When it happens, I just hold him and pet him and try to let him know through my gentle touches that he is safe. I can tell you this, since that all happened Brant has changed. Sometimes I don't like the changes...but don't tell him I said so. Well, actually he'll read this, so guess he'll know eventually. But, it's like... *Sigh* When I tell you this you are gonna think I am being shitty. It feels shitty...I can tell you that much. But, now a lot of times Brant is like a lost boy. I see him spaced out a lot. Like he is looking off into the distance and his mind is far away. We can be in class and the teacher will call on him, but he won't respond. So, ya, the school knows about most of the stuff that happened to him, to us...and so they are really kind to him. Mostly. No teachers allow any sort of laughing or mocking of him when they are around. And, well, I don't allow no shit either. Of course, everyone still knows Jason will kick-ass should I ask for help...but mainly, the kids all love Brant anyway. Mostly, they are sad too. I guess we've become the school "project." But I still hate what has become of this part of my Brant. But, there's more. See...sometimes he gets all afraid, and clingy. It's as if he is afraid I will leave him, or quit on him. That just ain't gonna happen. I love Brant. And Brant needs me. I will be his anchor the rest of my life if he needs one that long. I love him that much. No, we haven't really had sex since then either. Sometimes we both get boners...and when we shower together there is a strange need between us to stand under the water and hold each other close...like long lost lovers just re-united. It has become a ritual. And as we stand there all slippery and wet and warm and in each other's arms...we get stiff, and well...we sort of rub ourselves together. Not so much as to cum, but it is still erotic. At night when we hold one another, we may slip a hand into the other's undies and hold on to the other's boyhood. Sometimes we get stiff. His skin is sooooooo soft there, so smooth. We've not really talked about the sex stuff though. I guess we both just know. We know that we have to wait. I don't know how long we have to wait. But we have to wait. For now, sex is not the love that is between us. It's the closeness, the touches, the comfort of just being safely in each other's arms. Without a word between us, one of us will have a flash-memory and reach out for the other. And we find each other. I know if he needs me. He knows if I need him. That is what we need for now - each other. Brant still wets the bed. When I came home from the hospital is when I really discovered what was going on. I suspected it before then. A guy sometimes just knows stuff...but that first night is when we had to get past it. I locked the door to my room after we came upstairs. Dad and Brant's Mom had just basically told us that they were getting married, and that Dad was going to petition to adopt Brant as his own son. I have to say I was overjoyed, and confused as shit all at the same time. I mean...DAMN! You might not understand this right now...but I was most worried about Mom's chair. The big green chair she used to sit in while she held me and read to me. Daddy saw me look at the chair the whole time they were telling us. Brant was standing with me, holding my hand, Daddy Brant's Mom were sitting on the couch. The chair was empty...I was the only one who sat in it anymore. When Daddy finished telling us what was going on...he said Brant had his own room now, but that he suspected we'd prolly sleep together for a while until both of us weren't scared anymore. Funny...nobody said a word about boyfriends, or sex. It was as if everyone know we would wait for that stuff. I don't know how...but it was the un-spoken thing among us. Anyways, Daddy bear-hugged me up and whispered into my ear, "Don't worry, Buddy, I'll take the chair up to your room tomorrow. It's yours now. Momma would want you to keep it." I cried. The next day the chair was in my room...where it is now, where I am writing this from. Oh, I was telling you about Brant and me...well...so, we ended up in my room. After a bit we all went to get some lunch, then later we got back and sat in the living room. People kept coming bye to welcome me home and bring stuffed animals, and Beanie babies, and toys and stuff. After awhile I was exhausted. Daddy motioned us to go upstairs...we didn't need an further invitation, we whisked ourselves away and were happy to finally be alone. I wanted to sleep in my own bed, and have my own things around me. I guess Brant just knew I wanted to sleep in my room, because when I turned away from the door, he was already crawling up to sprawl out on my bed. It was a double bed. So there was plenty of room for us both. But I wasn't exactly sleepy. A whole lot of "stuff" had just been dropped on me and I needed to sort it all out. I turned out the overhead light and switched on the bedside lamp as I too crawled up to snuggle with m Brant. He seemed so small, so frail. But I suppose I was too. Neither of us would win a prize for fitness right then. Brant and I just sorta melted together into one another's embrace. We didn't caress one another too much, because the bruising and soreness was still too much, but holding one another felt good. We were lying belly to belly, and our noses and lips were touching. My blinded eye was on he bottom side so I could see better. It is hard to look someone in the face when they're that close to you, so we separated at the chest a tiny bit so we could talk. Our groins were still pressed together. We had our hands and arms intertwined at our chests between us. I could see something troubling Brant. To me, it was plainly etched upon his face. "What is it Brant," I whispered. "Are you mad they got together? Do you hate being my new brother?" Brant sort of melted deeper into the mattress when I whispered to him. I saw a lone tear drop from his eye. I reached with a finger and wiped it from his face and sucked its saltiness from my own finger. Brant sighed very deeply, then drew a deep breath, "No...I...I ummmm... I have to tell you something." "Okay Brant, tell me anything. I'm right here for you Buddy." Brant slowly turned his head in a way as if to tell me no. "You won't want me to sleep here with you Lenny." I cocked my head in confusion. I had no idea what this secret could be...but I was certain nothing would come between us again. "Brant," I whispered as I leaned in to brush his lips with mine, "You'll have to trust me about this..." He nodded affirmative this time. Closed his eyes, drew another deep breath, then burst out with it... "I wet the bed." I kept looking at him, waiting for the rest of it...but that was it. Nothing else. "That's it?" I asked, barely audible. I smiled at him. He smiled back. That was the end of the conversation. We went to sleep like that. Still clothed, lying across my bed, holding hands, joined at the pelvis. Our legs became enter-meshed during the night. Sometime after midnight, I felt an incredible warming sensation at my groin. I had this odd dream I was peeing the bed. Soon enough I woke enough to realize it was Brant. His Goodnight Pull-up had soaked through and was leaking on us both. I smiled and pulled him closer to me and went back to sleep. Morning would come, we would strip the mattress of bedding, take a shower, and figure out how to deal with this a day at a time. But a little body fluid wasn't going to make me not love him. So...Like I said; it's been weeks now. I help Brant with his bedwetting...I mean...I help him manage it and to get past it. We shower before bed, and I make sure he pees really good before we head to bed. Then, in the night when I wake to go take a leak, I take him by the hand and lead him with me. Most times I have to pull his Goodnights down, even hold his business for him (I do admit that sometimes I hold his dick just because I like to hold is dick...). He is a sound sleeper when he passes out. Some nights, I have to just pull his Goodnights off and toss `em...I usually warm a wash cloth and wipe him before I lead him back to bed. Then I'll cover him up, or I'll pull on a fresh pair of undies for him. I don't mind. He is awake for some of it...it seems so...but he never remembers the next morning. Snuggles and spooning are absolutely the way we sleep. I love him so much. But we are getting stronger. We are going to make it, Brant and I. We're gonna make it. Oh...btw...Jason and Liam are planning a camping trip! We can hardly wait! ~~00~~0~~00~~ Liam's perspective... Okay, so here's the deal. Jason and I are nearly 100% after the thing. It. That's what we call it. It. Stupid, I know, but we're just kids, so give me a break will ya? Jason's face is all better now. Bruises all healed. He does have this sexy little scar on his lip...not a big one...but it is there. And it gets me freakin horny every time. It is a symbol now. A symbol of just how much he loves me. How much he loves all of us. He was willing to die for us. For Lenny. For me. I am so proud of Jason. And he knows I am. I tell him tons of times. I like to show him too...I'll tell ya about that later though. And, well...I have a scar too; where I was shot. I guess each of the five of us have scars. Truth be told...the scars are deeper than our flesh. It might take a very long time before all of us feel normal and safe again. Jason says it is his life's goal to keep us from hurting like that ever again. Somehow, I believe he can do it too. He's changed. My Jason. He has always been the natural leader of our group. You know that. But now...his role is somehow more. I don't know if I'm smart enough to explain it though. It's like he is our big brother...even though he's not even a brother to any of us. We accept what he suggests as if ...hmmm...sounds like a cult or something I know...but that ain't it. We just trust him, that's all. Ya, we have our parents. They've all been helpful and supportive. In fact, they have been super. I really don't think we'd have survived the first month without our parents. But, even more than our parents, Jason is our glue. He holds us together, he bonds us with some intangible strength that makes us each feel safe. And trust me...feeling safe is important. We've been through enough scary shit for 100 lifetimes. It's sad sometimes, to think about how happy we were, and how sad we seem from time to time now. Poor Brant may suffer the most. His eyes are always dark, and his face is always ashen colored. He's way jumpy too...and clingy to Lenny. Of course...a lot of us would like to cling to sexy Lenny...HAHA... but Brant NEEDS Lenny, so we all mind our selves when he is around so as not to even hint that we might come between them. The look of panic is never far from Brant's eyes, but Lenny can calm him pretty quickly. Weird thing is he does it most often without saying a single thing. They have some sort of telepathy thing going I think. Jason and I do o an extent...but theirs is different. Is there really a thing like ESP? Does it really exist? Are thre differing levels of it if it's eral? Gosh... I wonder about the weirdest stuff sometimes. And Lenny. Well...he almost acts the opposite. You'd think he'd be the scardy-cat after what happened to him. But not little Lenny. Nope. He is Mr. Toughie. He has a cocky attitude that he can lick the world...he manages to intimidate even high-school boys to back off and leave him alone. I can tell you this...no shit-head in the whole school would dare laugh at, or mock Brant right now! No sir. Lenny would rip their eyeballs out...and they know it. So they give Brant a wide birth. In a way it's funny...skinny, twerpy little Lenny is THE MAN! Okay, see...this happened after both of them got back to Middle School. It was after most of the noise of us all being back at school had died down. See, at first everybody treated us like we all had three heads or were glowing green or something. There were whispers, and silent nods, and sad looks. Everyone was nice...TOO nice. You know what I mean? But before long things got into a routine, and people stopped being wigged out by us being there (this happened to all four of us, and Ray...well, Ray didn't get back to school very soon, I'll tell you more about Ray. Grrrr...there is just too much to remember here). Thing is, after the routines set in, that is when Brant began "re-lapsing" is what the Doctors told us. He would walk down the hall and just stop still, standing in the middle of the walk way, people bumping into him and he'd be staring off into space. Usually Lenny was with him, so it got to where Lenny had to literally grab hold of Brant's shirt sleeve or jacket and keep him moving along. The school and their parents worked out all their classes and stuff together so Lenny could be with Brant all day. That helped. It wasn't too long after Lenny began dragging Brant along the corridors that Brant began holding on to Lenny's arm. Yeah, you see where this is going. Holding Lenny's arm soon turned into holding Lenny's hand. It wasn't anything sexual, or anything like a boyfriend kind of reaction from Brant...Lenny had become Brant's security blanket. It is how me and Jason saw it anyways. Ummm...oh...so...this one day something or the other happened and Lenny wasn't right there with Brant when Brant had one of his...spells...dunno what you call them. Brant stopped walking and people were passing him bye, some bumping into him simply because he was in the way, others because they didn't see him. But there was these three bigger kids who stopped and decided to mess with Brant. There were the typical jeers and smirks, giggling and normal stupid stuff you might figure would happen. But then it got really stupid really fast. One of the boys, Roger, nodded at the other two to indicate he was about to do something. They all nodded their ascent, and watched what Roger was about to do. This whole time Brant was just standing there in another dimension kinda. "Hey Fag-boy," Roger goaded, "Where's your little fag protector? Your boyfriend off sucking somebody else's dick? That why you are so fucked up here in the pathway?" Raucous laughter ensued, the passersby formed a kind of oasis around the four boys in the middle, and when the few close by began to notice Roger was taunting Brant, the proverbial circle formed and kids started waiting to watch. What is it with Mob-Mentality? People are cruel, and idiots most times. Have you ever noticed that? When Brant didn't respond, Roger got bolder. "Hey, Fag-boy...I'll tell you what. You don't need a Fag-protector; me and the boys will take care of you." With that, he grabbed Brant by the shirt-sleeve and pulled him towards the bathroom. Brant followed without resistance, still in his fog. At the bathroom door, one of the other two boys jumped ahead and opened the door for Roger and Brant to pass through. Once inside the second boy held the door shut. Roger spun Brant around to face him. Peering deep into Brant's face...there was no recognition of anything happening in Brant's eyes. Emboldened, Roger placed his hands on Brant's shoulders and pushed him down to is knees, directly in front of Roger's crotch. "Here's the little faggot a cock to suck on," Roger said lustily as he lowered his own zipper and began fishing out his rapidly filling cock. He grinned, and the boy by Roger's side turned white. "Hey!" the other boy yelled in astonishment (his name is Benton, but kids just called him Ben). "You can't to that shit to the little kid. Dude, what are you thinking?" Ben shoved Roger's hand away from diggin out his cock with enough force to turn Roger around to face him. Both Roger and Ben are about the same size, though Roger is the decided ring-leader of the group. Roger squared off at Ben and pushed him back, to which Ben snapped back his own hard shove. The other kid at the door (Kelsey..everyone calls him Kelp) stepped forward a bit...probably trying to decide who's side to take. Breaking ranks in a gang like that isn't really cool...if you know what I mean. But. Roger was being totally a dick-wad...even Kelp could see that. About that time a few other kids started stepping into the bathroom, because Kelp who had the door blocked, wasn't doing that anymore. By that time, Lenny had finished up in the classroom and went to look for Brant. The commotion in the hall and bathroom was the obvious place to look. One kid had blocked the door OPEN, and a quick glance inside caused Lenny to go totally demon-rogue. It was a total transformation, by all counts. Legendary stuff. One-eyed Hell-on-wheels. Reports were that bodies were flying through the air like the Tasmanian Devil had swept through the circle. Others said Lenny swept underneath everyone knocking boys of all stripes astride. And yet others claimed to see Lenny vault over them all as if launched from a circus cannon. My guess he clawed and hacked through like a maniac. We did take a few days to get all the skin and blood and hair out from under the boy's fingernails afterwards! One fortunate thing came from the incident. Respect. Benton popped Roger square on the jaw, decking him. When Kelp got to the spot where the tussle was going on he had to make an immediate choice: Join Roger on the deck, or stand square with Ben...it was an easy choice. The room swelled with a dozen guys, who quickly put two-and-two together and knew what had just happened...that Roger's shriveling dick was hanging out his opened fly and that he was holding his broken nose -- blood beginning to trickle out the crevices of his hand, and that Brant was still on his knees dazed (but rapidly coming back to himself), and Benton shaking his now smarting fist (we learned later got broken on Roger's face) gave it all the elements to piece the story together. Lenny parted the sea of bodies (by might or miracle still isn't known) and gloomed onto Brant, pulling the less-dazed boy to his feet. "Len..." was all Brant could say before he completely fainted and swooned. With god-like strength in his tiny self, Lenny scooped Brant up as a Father would a small child. Somebody snapped a cell-phone picture of the scene. The look of determined fortitude on Lenny's face is still to this day a sight that gives chill to whomever sees it. IF there was a doubt in the world that Lenny would fight or kill for his boyfriend before that moment...the doubts permanently died there that day. Eerie silence shushed the gathering crowd as Lenny walked out with Brant in his arms. At the door, adult teachers and counselors began appearing, and one of them took Brant from Lenny's arms. Oddly, Lenny surrendered the boy without a struggle. His next actions told us why. Without a word, Lenny turned from the now departing Brant in the arms of the School Security Guard...back to the bathroom he stepped with steely determination. Again the silence of the surrounding kids was deafening. Len looked at Ben and Kelp and nodded almost imperceptibly as he stepped over the prone figure of a much larger but bleeding Roger. Lenny dropped to his knees atop Rogers midsection and the older boy's breath gushed out of him. In a panic for air, Roger's hands left his own face, blood by now streaming from his face and smeared all down his face neck and torso. As he gasped for breath, blood spattered on both boys. Undeterred by the patheticness of Roger's condition, Lenny reached out taking a handful of Rogers longish dirty-blonde hair, jerking the bleeding boy's head and face to within inches of Len's own. This is the rumored reply from little Lenny to the much larger, older boy... "I'll fucking kill you, you son-of-a bitch. I'll cut your dick off and feed it to you if you even so much as look at my boyfriend...ever...again." Lenny scowled at Roger, some say he growled a guttural noise that frightened many of the others gathered there, and he slowly, deliberately got up and walked out to join his boyfriend. Weeks later I asked Lenny if he really said that. Lenny looked at me with his one good eye, raising his eyebrow. "Has the bastard bothered us again?" No, was my nodded answer...it was all Lenny ever talked to me personally about that part of it. The rest is, as they say, history. Roger had to change schools. Not only because he was suspended and hauled off to the police station (ya, the Detective meant business...), but also because he was done at the school. Not a living soul at the school would look at him or talk to him the same ever again. He crossed a line that even wacked out school kids know can't be crossed. Lenny became a folk-lore hero. He attacked a grown assed man over Brant, and brokered no argument from a bully here at school in front of 30 witnesses. Who knows what MIGHT have happened in another situation should Roger have tried to stand up against Lenny. Dunno. I suspect it would have been Roger against 573 kids. Not the sort of odds a guy likes to take into a fight. Certainly not a bloke like Roger (oddly, I don't think the odds would have deterred Lenny). ~~00~~0~~00~~ Ha! So, you know what? It really isn't intimidation, I don't think. The kids here really do love Brant and Lenny. Not only are they adorably cute, and obviously TOGETHER... but they are sweet. And they cause NO trouble. There is the Jason factor...but I don't know if little Lenny needed Jason to fight this fight. He seemed to handle himself okay. And after IT happened, the kids all sort of got the hint to back the fuck off and leave them alone. I guess they all got the same memo. ~~00~~0~~00~~ So, yeah...me and Jason are going to have a camping trip. It's all planned up. Me and Jason, Lenny and Brant. Dad, Lenny's dad, and even Jason's dad are coming along too (they get to carry the damned firewood!). We got them to agree to let us boys all share a tent, and there will be two more tents...Lenny's dad and Jason's dad will share a tent, and My dad will have his own; he snores too loud for anyone but mom to want to sleep with him...lol. Detective Hauk is coming too. He said he wants a chance to get out in the woods himself...said he may bring his own tent...and his nephew along...if we don't mind. Which, of course we don't mind. So, what started out as a simple way for us boys to get alone for a day or so has turned out to be a family affair...in the highest order. Lol. Only...oddly, me and the guys don't really care. We are going over the Thanksgiving holidays. We'll leave right after the Dallas Cowboy game. We do, afterall, have to keep our priorities straight!!! ~~00~~0~~00~~ Notes: Okay. Sorry this chapter took a few days longer than I hoped to get finished. I hope you enjoyed it though. Ummm...I SERIOUSLY thought and wanted this chapter to end the story...but silly me cannot get my arms around this still. I am desperately trying to push the story into a closure...but it don't always cooperate with my own dictates. Kind of like trying to babysit a 3 year old...You find yourself wanting to say, "How many arms you got anyway, kiddo?" As for my general well being over these months...I nearly starved to death. But fortunately, God has intervened many times and kept my demise away. Many thanks to all of you for your love and prayers and well wishes. Adam, David, Zac, Liam, Tyler, Tayler, Rod, Cap, Olly, Jerry, Billy, Jason, David L., Alex, Shaun, Jimmy, Crisp, Johnny, Kyon, Kai...hell...I just can't name all of you (do any of you realize how many 3000 friends are?). I simply don't know what I would do without you...and I absofuckinglutely had no clue I could discover such great friends by penning a few tiny thoughts from my troubled brain. You guys all amaze me. I love you...yes, you. You are a wonderful lot! I guess this is the point to mention this (not sure if I have earlier...forgive my forgetfulness if I did...), but I am seriously considering publishing this into a book form. I have been asked a gazillion times by you all to consider it...and I have been approached by someone willing to assist me in doing so. I'm altogether excited by the possibilities, and humbled beyond belief at the idea of it. If you have any comments or suggestions regarding that thought, I'd love to hear them. I anxiously await your responses. andyoutwest@live.com or http://weststories.altervista.org