Care
By Li'l Ninja
nifty_little_ninja@proton.me
https://LittleNinja.world

Super serious disclaimer: The characters and events in this story are entirely fictional. Any possible resemblances to real-life people or events within this story are purely coincidental, I swear! This story contains naughty things that you might find...well... naughty. If naughty stuff offends you or it is illegal for you to read in your state, country, town, city, or whatever, then bugger off elsewhere! - Or just use a VPN or something - If not, then grab a box of tissues [for your eyes, you dirty sod!] and let's get started.

A Note From The Ninja: There is no note from The Ninja.

Check out the blurb and photo for this chapter @ https://littleninja.world/stories/care/chapter-13-anger-management

Chapter 13: Anger Management

Saturday, 22nd December 1990 – Dylan's Last Chance 

"George, Ben, I want you two to wait downstairs in the living room," Fred said in a serious tone.

"Okay, Daddy," the twins replied in the sweetest, most innocent voices they could manage before doing as they were told.

"Dylan, I want you to get out from under your bed and explain yourself right this instant," Fred said in an angry tone. He couldn't believe what the boy had done. He thought it was disgusting and completely pointless.

"W... What?" Dylan said quietly as he scrambled out from under his bed. He had been at the new foster home for a week now. And although he wasn't really talkative, he was actually speaking to the two foster parents now but only when he needed to.

"You know what, Boy," Fred said as he grabbed the young boy by his wrists and yanked him to his feet roughly. Still firmly holding on to Dylan's wrist, Fred dragged the boy out of the bedroom and onto the landing before pointing down at the offending evidence. Dylan followed the man's finger and gasped when he saw a pile of human shit on the carpet. "Care to explain yourself, you disgusting animal?" Fred said angrily when the boy didn't respond.

"I... I didn't do – " Dylan started to say before being cut off.

"Don't you dare even lie to me, Dylan. You know what happens when you lie," Fred said as he glared down at the boy.

"Fwed I didn't – " Dylan said with more conviction in his voice before being cut off again.

"I told you not to lie, you little shit. And how many times do I have to tell you? You call me Dad, okay." Fred said that as a statement, not a question. He was absolutely livid now. The boy had taken a crap on the carpet, lying to him about it, and disrespecting his authority.

"Youww not my dad," Dylan stated defiantly and then he braced himself for the slap that he knew was coming. And it sure stung when it did. Dylan had been going head-to-head with this issue for days now. He didn't care how many slaps and beatings he took, there was no way he was going to call them 'Mum' and 'Dad'. He hated them. In fact, he hated the whole house and everybody in it. Even the cat was a total dick.

"I'm not arguing with you about this anymore. Now into your bedroom and pull your pants down," Fred snapped as he removed one of his slippers.

"Fuck you!" Dylan screamed loudly and defiantly. Fred slapped the young boy again, causing Dylan to fall to the floor from the weight of the blow. Fred then gripped the boy by his wrist and dragged him into the bedroom. Dylan screamed and flailed around as the man dragged him into the bedroom, sat down on the bed and pulled him over his lap. He continued his rebellious shouts and scrabbled with the man in an attempt to stop him from pulling his shorts and underwear down. However, Fred was simply too strong for Dylan and a few moments later he had the boy's bare, pale white backside exposed. He then struck the boy's bare arse with the hard rubber sole of his slipper, the loud slapping sound it made echoed off the walls of the large bedroom. Dylan felt the excruciating pain of the blow to his backside jolt through his entire body.

"Fuck off! Get the hell off me! I hate you!" Dylan screamed as loudly as he could as he attempted in vain to wriggle free from the man's grasp. Fred, however, didn't say a word as he struck the boy over and over again.

Downstairs, Ben and George had been listening intently to the entire ordeal. They couldn't believe how well their little plan had worked. Both boys knew that Dylan was almost certainly going to get a good telling off and a bit of a beating, but they hadn't expected things to escalate so much and they smiled in glee as they realised that they were getting far more out of their setup than they could have ever imagined. And they had a lot more in store, too.

Fred beat Dylan's ass until the boy was exhausted and could no longer struggle and had stopped shouting obscenities.

"Right, I want you to sit on your bed and think about what you've said and done," Fred said in a very stern tone as he let the boy up and headed to the bedroom door. "Oh, and you're grounded for a fortnight," he then followed before leaving the room and quickly slamming the door shut. Fred knew that grounding the boy was almost pointless as all he did was stay under his bed anyway. But, when he had seen the angry and unapologetic look on Dylan's face, he wanted to let the boy know that he was serious.

Dylan slipped under his bed and lay down on his side. He was seething with anger and felt no regret or remorse for what he had screamed and shouted at Fred. He knew he had been set up by the two bratty twins. Although, he felt himself wishing that it was actually him who had shat on the floor. If it were him, he would have smeared it as deep into the carpet as he could. Or maybe he could have done it to the twins' beds.

Still lying on his side, Dylan fantasised about killing the entire family. He thought about stabbing them all to death while they were sleeping. He also thought about burning the whole house down with them all locked inside. The thoughts of their horrific screams of pain and their hopeless cries for help as they perished in the flames made him feel a little better. He hated every single one of them so much. Everything they did or said to him just made him hate them even more and he wasn't afraid to let them know either.

After laying there for an hour or so, Dylan decided that he needed to get away from the house, even if for just a while. He couldn't stand being in there for one second longer. He planned his route out of the house before he rolled out from under the bed and stood up, wincing a little at the pain in his backside. It still hurt a lot but it didn't sting half as much as it did initially. He then packed a rucksack and put a jacket on before pushing one of the wooden toy chests so it was under the window and climbing on top of it. Dylan then opened the window wide before climbing out of it and landing on top of the flat garage roof. He then headed to the far right corner and carefully clambered down the cast-iron drainpipe. When safely at the bottom, Dylan smiled at his achievement and for finally being outside the house for the first time in a solid week. Dylan had no idea where he was and what was nearby so he simply picked a direction and started walking.

After walking for a good fifteen minutes, Dylan spotted a recreational ground with swings, slides, see-saws, climbing frames, and all the standard park stuff. There was also a large field and off to one side was a cluster of trees around a small, shallow dyke. He just wanted to be somewhere he could sit alone and not be bothered, so chose to sit down on the grass and watch the water in the shallow dyke flow by. He thought about his brother; Chase; the men that had kidnapped them, and everything he had been through already in his short life. As much as he tried not to, Dylan couldn't help but think about how he had been set up by those shitty twins and how much he hated them and their shitty foster parents. His face scowled down at the trickling dyke as he thought about how he loathed life so much now. He missed his twin brother so much. Now that Declan was gone, all the love and happiness that Dylan had, despite the horrendous situations the two twins lived through, had disappeared along with him, leaving nothing but feelings of hatred, disdain, and abhorrence for his life and the people in it.

Dylan was buried deep in his thoughts when he heard someone say, "Hey" from behind him, startling him back to reality.

Dylan turned around to see a boy on a bike. The boy looked to Dylan as if he was 12 or 13 years old. He had short brunette hair that he wore up in a slightly spiky fashion. He had two small moles on his lightly tanned skin. One was next to his nose on the left side of his face and the other was even smaller and was high above his brow on the same side of his face. The boy had big, oval-shaped, dark brown eyes and a slightly flat and slightly wide nose. He had small ears and his medium-sized pink lips adorned an attractive smile.

"What do you want?" Dylan snapped back at the boy. The boy, slightly taken aback by Dylan's rude response, took a few moments to consider how to proceed.

"If you stare any more coldly at that water, you'll make it freeze," the boy said as he dismounted his bike and laid it down gently on the grass. "What's up?"

"Leave me alone. You wouldn't unduwwstand," Dylan said with much less conviction in his voice than he wanted, as he saw the boy walk towards him and sit down. Dylan tried to stare daggers at the boy who was invading his space and his thoughts. However, there was something about his smile and demeanour that just made that incredibly hard to do.

"My name's Michael... Michael Carter," the boy said as he held his hand out for Dylan to shake. Dylan groaned loudly and continued to stare at the boy. He just wanted him to bugger off and leave him alone. "Not into the whole shaking hands thing then?" Michael said with a slight giggle once he realised that Dylan wasn't going to return the handshake. "It's okay. I don't really like it either. I just wanted to be nice. What's your name?"

Dylan thought for a long while. It was clear that this boy wasn't going anywhere and, if he was honest, the boy's positivity and persistence was almost admirable. His smile certainly helped, too. Finally, Dylan said, "Dylan. Dylan Bwwown."

"Nice to meet you, Mate," Michael said with a smile. "I haven't seen your face around here before," he continued, noticing Dylan's non-Mancunian accent. He wasn't sure where the boy's accent was from. However, he knew it wasn't from Manchester and he guessed it was probably from somewhere in the Midlands. Dylan, however, hadn't picked up on the fact that Michael's accent wasn't from Manchester either.

"Yeah, I only just moved heuww last week," Dylan explained with a sigh. "I came fwwom Dah-be-shuww." He wasn't sure why he was divulging this information to a boy he had just met. Although it did feel nice to talk to someone who wasn't from the household he hated so much.

"Shit, Little Dude... That's quite a ride. Why would you want to move to this shit-hole anyways?" Michael asked with genuine curiosity. Dylan cracked the smallest smile as the boy's cussing reminded him of his blonde friend, Chase. But the smile quickly faded.

"I... I don't wanna talk about it," Dylan said firmly as he turned his face to scowl back down at the water in the Dyke.

"Hey, it's okay," Michael stated. "I'm not from Manchester either," he continued. "I moved here when I had to change foster homes."

Dylan's head snapped around to look at Michael again before saying, "You what?"

"Oh... Errr... I... Um... I'm in foster care at the moment. Sorry," Michael said as he, for the first time during the conversation, took his eyes from Dylan's face and looked down shamefully at his hands that were in his lap.

"What?" Dylan asked as he furrowed his brow. He was confused about why Michael was apologising.

"I guess I just blew my chances of being friends now that you know that I'm a foster kid," Michael said sadly, still looking down at his hands. Dylan studied the boy for a few moments. Except for his late twin, he had never met another boy in the same position that he was in. Suddenly, this boy seemed much more significant to him than only a few seconds ago. He had so many questions. However, he was still cautious and guarded. He took his time to process what Michael had told him and come up with a response.

"Why would you think that?" Dylan asked curiously.

"Well I get beaten up a lot at every school I go to because I'm in foster care. Nobody likes foster care kids," Michael explained. "They call me bad names and say horrible things about my parents." He was doing the best he could to hold back the tears pooling in his dark brown eyes.

"That's wweal shitty," Dylan said in an empathetic tone as he thought back to the grief he had dealt with in all the different schools he had been to. And, for a moment, Dylan totally forgot the anger and hate he had built up inside of him as he put his arm around Michael's shoulder and gave his full, undivided attention to comforting the older boy before saying, "You shouldn't let dicks like that tear you down."

"Yeah. I know. It's just not that easy," Michael sniffled.

"Yeah. I know, too," Dylan said, finally deciding to open up a little to his new friend. "I'm in foster care also. It's the reason I've moved here," he confessed.

"What?" Michael said as he quickly looked at Dylan with a puzzled look on his face. By the look on Dylan's face, it was clear that the younger boy had more to say.

"Uhm... I'm a fostuww kid too. Uhh... That's why I'm heuww... You know... In Manches... In Manchest..." Dylan struggled.

"Manchester," Michael offered along with a smile at Dylan. Although he couldn't help but wonder what was up with Dylan's speech and why. He knew one thing though... If Dylan was being truthful about being a foster kid, then that fact along with his impaired speech, he was sure to have struggled with bullying and making friends. Perhaps that was why he was being so defensive, Michael thought. "Hey, Dylan, I'm sorry. It's just – "

"No, Michael. I'm sorry," Dylan said, cutting the older boy off mid-sentence. "I judged you too soon; befouuww I even knew youww name." Dylan was starting to feel comfortable around the new boy. He found himself feeling more like he usually did: Less angry and more placid. Although 'placid' was far from what he was feeling right then and there, Dylan certainly did feel a lot more relaxed around the older boy already. There was a long silence between the two boys.

"Oh," Michael finally managed to say as his eyes spent a few long moments exploring the boy in front of him. He honestly hadn't expected him to say what he had. "Are you really in f-foster care too?"

Dylan nodded sadly along with a quiet, "Mmmhmm."

"Oh... My... God..," Michael said in disbelief. "This... Is... Sooo fucking awesome!" He then saw the annoyed and slightly angry expression on Dylan's face before realising what he had just said. "Shit... Shit... I didn't mean that. Fuck... Shit... Dylan, please. I swear I didn't mean it like that."

Dylan grunted and said, "Fouwget it. Sewiously." If it was anyone else speaking to him, Dylan would have, at the very least, walked away. There was something about the way that Michael spoke and conducted himself that reminded Dylan of his lost, blonde-haired friend, Chase. He hoped that he wasn't being taken for a fool as he slowly began to lower some of his outer walls to the boy he had met barely minutes earlier.

"So... Um... How come you're out here in this cold weather on your own?" Michael asked curiously. Dylan explained how he hated his new foster family and how the twins had set him up. "Fucking hell. That's disgusting!" Michael said in disbelief. "They sound like animals."

"Yeah, they aww. I want them to die," Dylan said matter-of-factly.

"Why the hell would they do that though? Like, what's the point?" Michael asked, scratching his head. He had never heard of such a thing and couldn't think of why anybody would do anything like that. It was just bizarre.

"I'm not shuauw," Dylan said. "I guess it was just so that I would get a beating. Although I get enough of those anyway, so that doesn't wweally make a lot of sense eithuww."

"Oh damn, you're with those kinds of foster parents, the ones who beat you? I hate those ones," Michael said with a frown. He had just come from a home where the dad had developed a drinking problem and would beat him badly. However, he was lucky as he had a good social worker who picked up on it quick and moved him to a better home.

"It's bettuww than the ones who make you do sex stuff," Dylan replied, causing Michael's eyes to widen in horror. Luckily, Michael had never been subjected to that kind of abuse and assumed it only happened on very rare occasions.

"You mean you..." Michael said before trailing off. Dylan nodded. "Oh, my god. I can't believe someone would do something like that. It's just sick."

"Ouww fostuww dad caught me and my..." Dylan hesitated for a second as he suppressed the anger building up inside of himself. "My t-twin b-bwwotheuw doing stuff," Dylan offered.

"You have a twin brother?" Michael asked curiously as his brain went into overdrive. Dylan was a little shocked that Michael had focused on the fact that he had a twin and not that he was doing gay stuff with his brother.

"Yeah... Well no. Not anymoww," Dylan replied. He had his fists clenched and his body was rigid as he did his best to control the anger swelling inside him.

"Shit, Dylan. I'm sorry Mate," Michael said as he looked at his new friend sympathetically and gave him some time to calm down as he was clearly very distressed. As he looked at Dylan it finally hit him. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Holy fuck!" Michael said as he went pale and began to feel sick.

"What? What's up, Michael? You don't look well. Aww you o'tay?" Dylan said in a panicked tone when he saw the sudden change in Michael.

"Oh, my god. I can't believe I didn't put the pieces together sooner," Michael said in shock. His whole body was shaking and he put his head into his trembling hands as he did his best to process his sudden revelation.

"What? Sewwiously, Michael, youww scaiwwing me now," Dylan said as he looked on worryingly.

"I knew you looked familiar. You're one of the Brown Boys! I saw you and your brother's picture on the news like a week or so ago. I heard the story about what those sick fucks did. Holy fuck. So... So you're brother didn't make it?" Michael finally said, still in shock.

Dylan shook his head and said, "No. My fostuww family said he died in hospital."

"Oh, Man. That's so fucked up. I'm so sorry," Michael said as he put an arm around Dylan and gave him a half hug. He really wanted to give him a proper hug but he looked really angry and, as he had only known him for a short time, he didn't want to overstep any boundaries and make it worse.

"Can we speak about something else please?" Dylan said after cooling his head a little.

"Yeah, sure. Of course we can, Mate," Michael answered with a sympathetic smile before changing the conversation to something a little more light-hearted.

***

Friday, 1st February 1991 – Pissed Off, Oversized Rat With A Fluffy Face

"Hey Dylan. How's it going, Mate?" Michael asked cheerfully as his friend approached him. Dylan had started school a couple of weeks prior. Michael was in secondary school while Dylan was still in primary school. But Michael would always wait outside of his school gates for Dylan to come past and they would walk the rest of the way home together. "You wanna come over to my house for a while? I don't have any homework to do."

"Euwgh, I can't," Dylan scoffed. "I'm gwwounded." The two boys started their slow meandering home while they chatted.

"That's never stopped you before," Michael teased. Although it was true, Dylan barely ever took his groundings seriously. "What happened? Did the twins set you up again?" he then asked in a more serious tone.

Dylan nodded and said, "Yeah. Theww's no point in even denying it anymore. It just gets me more of a beating so I just admit to whatevuww it is."

"Wow, Mate. That really fucking sucks," Michael said. He was sympathetic to Dylan's situation. Although he had never been in quite the same situation, Michael knew what it was like to have abusive foster parents. "What did they do this time?" he asked curiously, not really sure he wanted to know the answer. Some of the things that the twins had set Dylan up for were downright wretched.

"They shaved the cat and blamed it on me," Dylan said flatly. Michael couldn't help but burst into laughter and Dylan couldn't help but giggle along with him. He hated the cat and it was actually really funny seeing it with no fur except for on its head.

"Oh shit. Dylan... I'm sorry," Michael said in between gasps of laughter. "I'm not... I'm not laughing at you," he continued, letting out a few snorts through his hysterics. "But... That... That cat. Ahahaha!" Dylan was belly laughing along with his friend now and the boys had to stop their walking while they regained their sanity.

"It now looks like a pissed off, ovuwwsized wwat with a fluffy face," Dylan managed to say just as the boys were slowly starting to wind down their laughter. This, of course, just caused Michael to laugh even harder.

"St... Sto... Stop... P-please... You're killing me!" Michael pleaded with tears streaming down his face.

After a long while, the two boys finally managed to pull themselves together. Their faces, bellies, and sides hurt from laughing so hard and they got a few odd looks from people peering out of their windows from behind their curtains to see what the commotion was outside of their homes.

"You know... I hate them so much, but they do come up with some of the cwwaziest and most cwweative stuff sometimes," Dylan admitted as the boys continued their slow walk home. "Is that invitation to come to youww's fouww a while still available?" he asked. He was in a pretty rotten mood all day and he just loved the way his friend always seemed to make him feel happy for a while. It was a nice change from simply feeling the hatred that dominated most of his thoughts.

"Fuck yeah. Of course, Mate," Michael replied excitedly. "You know you're always welcome round at my place and my parents love you," he continued honestly.

"Thanks, Michael," Dylan said with a smile.

***

Tuesday, 2nd April 1991 – Michael's Confessions

"Dylan... My man!" Michael said cheerfully, holding his hand up for a high-five as his friend approached him. School was done and they had plans to hang out at Michael's house for the afternoon and evening. Dylan was staying over at Michael's for dinner, which he always loved as it meant he didn't have to have dinner with his abusive foster parents and the two terrible twins.

"Hey, Michael," Dylan said as his palm hit his friend's waiting hand with a satisfying slap. "How did youww lunch bwweak date go with Lucy," he asked with an eager grin. He had been doing his best at playing Cupid with his friend and his friend's crush for a couple of months now. Michael was reluctant to even talk to her at first. However, Dylan had been talking him into speaking to her and demanded daily updates before giving his friend instructions on how to proceed. Today had been the day of the all-important lunch break date and Dylan was eager to know how it went.

"Err... Good," Michael said as he blushed a dark shade of red.

"Just good?" Dylan jested. "Com'on I need details," he said, giving Michael a friendly shoulder-barge before the boys continued their usual slow snaking down the pavement to Michael's house.

"Well... I think you're right, Mate," Michael said as he blushed even more.

"I knew it! I knew it!" Dylan said as he leapt into the air and yipped. "She likes you, doesn't she?"

"Uhh... She... Uh... She kissed me, Dylan," Michael said with a huge grin on his red face. "She actually kissed me, Mate... I can't believe it."

"See... Your uncle Dylan was right all along," Dylan said and couldn't help but giggle at the jocose look on the older boy's face.

"You're such an ass, Dylan," Michael said jovially with a grin on his face as he shook his head slightly.

"Oh my god, though!" Dylan exclaimed. "So are you two... Like... Boyfriend and girlfriend now then?" he asked as his eyes grew wide and expectant.

"Uh, not... No. Not yet," Michael said as the smile dropped from his face. "I... I told her that I wasn't quite ready yet and I had to sort some things out first," he continued as he looked at his younger friend with a shy expression.

Dylan surveyed his friend suspiciously for a few seconds before saying, "Are you fucking insane? She's all you've talked about fouww the past two months. And now she wants to go out with you, you tuwn heuw down?!" He actually felt slightly annoyed as he had put so much work into getting his friend and some girl that he had never met but seemed to know so much about together. And now, all of a sudden, his friend was getting cold feet.

"I can't explain it right now," Michael said in a sad tone. "But I promise I will by the end of today."

"Michael what – "

"Please, Dylan," Michael begged as he cut his friend off and pleaded him with his eyes.

"Fine," Dylan said with an amused sigh. "But this best be good."

***

The boys had an enjoyable afternoon together as they always did when they spent their time with one another. They had pillow fights, played WWF wrestling, and sang along to their favourite songs on the radio.

The two boys were excellent singers, with angelic voices that harmonised perfectly with each other. They had a real love for music and had spent many hours singing along to songs that they loved while recording mix tapes of their favourite songs off the radio. This brought both boys endless joy and, whenever they were bored and didn't know what to do, they would resort to singing along to the many mix tapes they had recorded.

There was a knock at the door, which abruptly interrupted the two friends' sing-along session.

"Dinner is out, Boys," Michael's dad said through the door of his son's bedroom once he heard the singing stop.

"Okay. Thanks, Dad. We'll be down in a minute," Michael called out as the two boys eagerly jumped off the bed. They ran down the stairs, pinching and bumping into one another as they giggled away at the silly antics.

"Hey, Boys," Michael's mum said in greeting as the two boys sat down at the kitchen table. She had only gotten home ten minutes earlier.

"Hi Mum," Michael said, with a sweet smile.

"Hi Anna," Dylan said, also with a sweet smile. "Oh wow. Lasagne; my favouwwite!" he then said excitedly once he saw the food laid out in front of him.

"Yeah, Dad makes the best lasagne, too," Michael stated matter-of-factly. "Thanks, Dad. It looks and smells great," he said before tucking into his dinner hungrily.

"Yeah, thanks, David. Youww food is always so nice," Dylan said gratefully before shovelling a forkful of lasagne into his mouth and making an approving sound along with an equally approving bob of his head.

Michael's foster parents adored Dylan. At first, they thought it a little strange that their 13-year-old foster son was hanging out with an 8-year-old so much. But once they finally met Dylan, they could tell that the boy was a lot more mature than most boys his age. They knew a little of Dylan's troubled past and they also knew, from experience, that many kids who had gone through prolonged periods of trauma usually 'grow up' quicker through a need to protect themselves. Although, this was in no way a hard and fast rule and sometimes it was totally the opposite. Furthermore, they had grown concerned about the bruising and marks that they regularly noticed on the young boy's face and body. At first, they assumed it was just standard bruises that boy's picked up from here and there and that his social worker would have picked up on them too and addressed any issues. However, over the months, they saw more and more of them and were now really starting to worry that something was seriously wrong, either at home or at school.

Once they had all finished eating dinner, the boys thanked David and gave him and Anna a hug before heading upstairs to Michael's bedroom.

"So you gonna tell me yet?" Dylan asked as he eyed his friend after sitting down on the bed next to him.

Michael blushed and sighed before finally saying, "But you're gonna end up hating me."

"Why would I end up hating you?" Dylan asked as his brow furrowed.

"You just will," Michael said as he looked down sadly at his feet.

"Com'on, Michael. Not a lot you can say will make me hate you," Dylan said as he scooted closer to his friend and put an arm around him.

"I'm just so confused and scared right now," Michael said, still looking down at his feet.

"Dude. I was like that when I moved heuww, wwemembuw? But you still didn't give up on me and now we aww like best fwwiends," Dylan explained truthfully before giving his words a few moments to set in.

"Yeah... But that's just it, Dylan. I can't bear the thought of you hating me because I said something stupid."

"I can't and won't force you to tell me, Michael. But I think you should," Dylan said plainly. There was a long silence between the two boys as Michael weighed up his options. He had already fought over talking to his friend about this numerous times and had always resolved to the fact that he had to talk to him about it. It was just that, now the time had come to finally do so, he was finding it incredibly hard to do so. Finally, with a sigh, Michael spoke.

"I'm not sure if I'm straight or not," Michael blurted out as quickly as he could, not giving himself a chance to change his mind once the words had begun to leave his mouth.

"Oh, O'tay. That's no big deal. Neither am I," Dylan said plainly. Michael's head snapped from looking down at his feet to looking directly at Dylan in an instant.

"Wh... What?" Michael said as he looked at Dylan in confusion.

"I like boys," Dylan said matter-of-factly. He had come to terms with the fact a long time ago along with his twin brother.

"Oh my god," Michael said as his eyes searched Dylan's face to see if he was being teased. "Really?" he asked.

"Yup," Dylan stated flatly. "But I thought you liked guwwls though," he continued.

"Yah. I do," Michael said, looking back down at his feet. "It's just..." He paused for a long moment. "It's just that I think I might like a boy, too. I'm... Well... I'm just not sure what I think," he finished with an ashamed look on his face.

"Oh?" Dylan said, cocking his head inquisitively as he continued to look at the older boy. "Well, that doesn't wweally mattuww. Maybe you like both?" he said after a few moments. He was actually quite surprised to hear his friend's revelation. He was sure that Michael was straight. He was always interested in girls and never showed any signs whatsoever that he might even have the slightest interest in boys.

"No, Dylan. No, I don't," Michael said, his tone of voice letting Dylan know that he knew what he was talking about. However, this just confused the younger boy more. "It's just one boy," Michael continued when he looked up to see the beyond-confused look on Dylan's face.

"Huh? But who..." Dylan said before trailing off. His eyes widened as he suddenly figured out what the older boy was getting at. "Why do you think that?" he finally managed to ask after pulling his thoughts together.

"Urgh," Michael groused before taking in a long, deep breath. "It's you and I don't know why," he said. "I... Well... Er, I just can't stop thinking about you, Dylan and I know it's wrong. You're 8 and I'm 13." The older boy braced himself for the words of a disgusted Dylan to rain down on him. Although, he had to admit that he felt better for finally saying it. However, disgusted words weren't what came; all he felt was his friend's arm tighten around him, in another reminder of why he felt so close to the younger boy. He was always so understanding, so empathetic, and seemed wise beyond his years. Suddenly, he felt Dylan's lips kiss him softly on his cheek, sending jolts of electricity down his spine and making his tummy do backflips.

"How did that feel?" Dylan asked as he pulled away, a blush settling gently on his cheeks as he smiled shyly.

"Honestly?" Michael said. "It felt incredible." However, his answer crushed him. He had hoped that he was just confused and excited to meet a new boy who had lived some somewhat similar experiences that he had. But that kiss on his cheek felt like nothing he had ever experienced before. He looked down and tried to blink away the tears welling in his eyes.

"Hey... Don't wowwie," Dylan said as he gently turned the older boy's head to face him again. "That was only the fuwwst test," he continued with his impish little grin. Michael suddenly forgot what he was worrying about for a few moments as he tried to understand the mischievous expression on his friend's face. Suddenly, the younger boy leaned forward and planted his lips firmly on his. He felt the same jolt of excited electricity flow down the front of his chest and a tingling sensation around his neck and shoulders. Dylan held his lips against the older boy's for a few moments longer. Once the initial shock and wave of sensations had rushed over him, Michael began to feel a little uncomfortable and he drew back. "How about that?" Dylan asked. Although he thoroughly enjoyed the feel of his lips against Michael's lips, the fact that the older boy had pulled away almost had him convinced.

"It was nice," Michael started before pausing for a few moments. "Well, it was at first... But then I started to feel weird," he continued. He then began to consider the method behind the younger boy's madness.

Dylan grinned and said, "O'tay. One last test." In fact, there was another test that he and Declan had devised when they were younger and trying to figure out their sexualities. However, he was almost certain now that Michael wouldn't make it that far.

"Okay, what is i– " Michael began to ask before being interrupted by Dylan passionately kissing him. At first, when he felt Dylan's lips against his own, he got the same jolt of pleasure through his body. However, this time, it wasn't as strong. He felt Dylan's tongue trying to worm its way into his mouth. He resisted for a short while before realising fully what his friend was really trying to do for him and he finally relented, parting his lips slightly as the younger boy's tongue expertly slipped into his mouth. Dylan rolled his wet, velvety tongue over the older boy's tongue as he had done so many times before with Declan. Michael drew in a quick breath of air in through his nostrils in a gasp. The sensation was nothing like the older boy had ever felt before. Michael sat there frozen, as the young boy worked his hand gently up and down the back of Michael's neck and nibbled gently at his bottom lip. Although not entirely unpleasant, Michael found the sensation strange and kind of gross; there was another boy's tongue in his mouth. He tried to hold on for as long as he could, even trying to kiss back a little to see if it made any difference, but he just couldn't do it and had to pull away.

"Still feel confused?" Dylan asked with a shit-eating grin on his face, knowing full well that he had made his point. Michael looked at his friend and, for the first time in months, he finally realised that, as much as he loved Dylan, he didn't love him in that way.

"Err. No," Michael said, blushing.

"I didn't think so," Dylan said, still grinning. He felt incredibly happy that he was able to help his friend understand his emotions a little better. Furthermore, all his work getting him and Lucy together wasn't going to go to waste. Although he thought the older boy was incredibly good-looking and often wondered what the ample bulge in his briefs looked like in the flesh, he really did just see Michael as a friend. He had thought about it many times before and realised that he probably wasn't even ready to do that kind of stuff yet... Not after Declan. He still hadn't, after all this time, shed a single tear for him and really mourned him properly, and he wondered if he ever would. "Sometimes, when you spend a lot of time with someone, you can feel like you like them mouw than just a fwwiend. It happened to me with a guwl once. But when we kissed, I weealised that I thought it was gross and stuff and not the same as doing it with a boy," Dylan explained.

"Thanks, Dylan. That makes a lot of sense," Michael said after taking a moment to ponder what his friend had said. He really appreciated that Dylan was able to get through to him and make him understand himself a little better. Dylan looked up at him and smiled before Michael pulled him in for a strong hug.

Sometime later, it was time for Dylan to head home. Dylan gave his friend a tight hug and told him that he would meet him at the usual place at the usual time for the walk to school the following day. Michael nodded and returned the hug back, a little tighter than usual.

Dylan then gave David and Anna hugs before chirping out his final farewells and leaving the house for the short five-minute walk home.

"You look happy with yourself," David said as he looked at the dorky smile on his son's face.

"Yeah, Dad," Michael said, looking up to meet his father's gaze. "He's just such a great friend. He's so awesome and I can't believe he's only 8 years old," he gushed.

"Yes, Son. He certainly is a very special little boy," David agreed with a smile before his face and tone turned more serious.

"Michael," Anna said. "We need you to come into the lounge and sit down. We have something important we need to talk to you about," she continued. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble or anything," she said when she saw the more than worried look on her son's face.

"Yes, Son. You're not in trouble," David said, ushering his son into the lounge and sitting down on the sofa, Anna joining him. "We just need to talk about Dylan. But it's kinda important and we need you to be truthful with us."

"Don't worry, Sweetheart," Anna said softly as she and David sat down together and Michael sat on one of the comfy single chairs facing them. "This won't take long." The boy knew exactly where this was going. He had promised Dylan that he would not tell anybody about anything that the younger boy had told him. However, he had not anticipated this and he knew he couldn't lie to his foster parents... His foster parents that he had grown incredibly attached to over the past six months. Once seated, David took a deep breath inwards and began to talk.

"Michael... I know you probably don't want to tell us about this. But this is really, really important," David started. Michael scrunched his eyes closed for a few moments as his mind raced. "Even if you have promised not to say anything to anyone, it's really important that you don't lie to us. We love and care about Dylan as much as you do. We know you're best friends and have been for a little while now," David continued. "But as his best friend, you need to look out for his well-being. Sometimes, you have to go against what someone thinks is good for them in order to do what's best for them. Do you understand, Son?" He paused for his foster son's response, heartbroken by the devastated look on his face. After a few moments of processing what David had said, Michael closed his eyes for a moment and nodded as a couple of tears streaked down his face. Instantly, Anna moved to kneel in front of the boy and took his hands into her own to comfort him, rubbing them gently.

"Hey... Hey... It's okay, Son," she said as she kissed the boy's hands softly. "I know this must be hard on you. But we're doing this because we care for Dylan. Do you understand?" she asked, as she looked up into the boy's teary eyes. Michael nodded slowly and waited for the next part to come.

"Michael, Son... We've noticed a lot of bruises on Dylan. They're constant and it seems there are always new ones, too," David finally managed to say. This was not easy for him to talk about and he knew that, due to Michael just coming to them from an abusive home that this was going to be a very hard thing for Michael to talk about for numerous reasons. The tears began to pour from the boy's eyes as he whimpered and sniffled. "Do you know where he's getting them from?" Michael nodded. He had promised Dylan that he wouldn't say anything to anyone. But it was clear that his foster parents knew and he wasn't able to lie to them.

"From home," Michael said in little more than a whisper. He felt terrible for breaking the promise to his friend but he knew that if anyone could help, his foster parents would. David and Anna gave each other a concerned but knowing look. Although not super common, they had dealt with their fair share of useless social workers. They had even heard stories of downright corrupt ones, too.

"I know this is hard, Sweetie, but we need to ask you just a couple more questions. We want to help Dylan and we will do everything in our power to do so, okay?" Anna said, giving Michael's hands a little squeeze. Michael nodded in agreement. "Has Dylan mentioned anything about why his social worker hasn't said anything or gotten involved?"

"He tried to tell his social worker but his foster parents always downplayed it or said he was lying and he'd done it at school or while playing and stuff," Michael said as he tried to remember what Dylan had told him.

"They should still investigate it though. Especially because Dylan had made a direct accusation and the boy is covered in bruises," David said, thinking out loud. He was disgusted that Dylan's social worker wasn't taking the boy seriously, especially after everything the poor boy had been through.

"I know. But Dylan says his social worker just doesn't seem to care. His foster parents always tell the social worker about all the horrible things that the two twins he lives with do to make Dylan look like he's a really bad kid, even though he'd never done any of it," Michael explained to his foster parents.

"What horrible things do they do, Michael?" Anna asked in a concerned tone.

"They constantly set him up by doing stuff and blaming it all on him. They poop on the floor and blame it on him. They pee in his bed while he's sleeping and now his foster parents force him to wear pull-ups to bed. They lock themselves in cupboards and make bruises and cuts on themselves and always blame Dylan for it. Dylan said that he just admits to everything now because it means he doesn't get beaten as much, too," Michael explained as his tears flowed.

"Oh my gosh. That's just evil. That poor, poor boy. He's been through so much already and now he's being put through this," Anna said as she pulled her boy in for a long cuddle and David joined.

"I'm very proud of you, Michael. You did the right thing by opening up and telling us. I promise you that we will do everything we can to get Dylan somewhere safe," David said, giving the boy a firm squeeze on his shoulder.

"Thanks, Mum. Thanks, Dad. I hate seeing him with bruises and stuff all the time. And the fact that he's just given up and accepted it is heartbreaking," Michael said in between sniffles. "He made me promise not to say anything to anyone because he would just get beaten again if his foster parents found out."

"Don't worry, Sweetie. When they do find out, Dylan will be somewhere safe by then," Anna said reassuringly.

"You promise?" Michael said, swatting the tears away from his eyes.

"We promise. You're a good friend to that boy, Son. We're both very proud of you and love you very much," Anna said, pulling Michael in for another short hug.

"I love you guys too," Michael said.

"You should go get a shower and sort your stuff out for school tomorrow. Your dad and I need to talk and make some phone calls. Okay, Sweetie?"

"Okay, Mum," Michael said before giving both of his foster parents a quick hug and disappearing into the bathroom.

After talking together for about half an hour, David and Anna had come to a decision on the best way to proceed. David picked up the landline telephone and dialled in the number for Michael's social worker.

"Hello. Ray Simons speaking," the social worker said after answering the ringing phone.

"Hi, Ray. It's David Carter here. We need your help with something important," David said, getting straight down to business.

"Oh? Is everything with Michael okay?" Ray asked, feeling a little concerned. He very rarely got calls out of the blue from the Carter family.

"Yes, Ray. Michael is fine. However, one of his friends isn't. He's another boy in care and it seems that he is being physically and possibly mentally abused by his carers. I don't know the name of the boy's social worker but it seems that he is indifferent to the poor lad's suffering. He visits us regularly and it seems that he has new bruises and marks on him each time he comes over," David explained.

"I'm glad you contacted me, David," Ray said. He was one of the social workers who really cared about the kids and families he worked with. He had been through the care system himself as a young boy and knew its drawbacks well and always tried his best to go the extra mile. "Do you know the boy's name?" he asked.

"Yes. It's Brown. Dylan Brown," David said. The phone went silent for a few moments. Ray knew of the high-profile boy and that his local department was currently dealing with him. He also knew exactly who was working on the boy's case. Unfortunately, the worker who had his case was known for being a little too lax and already had several complaints filed against him in recent years. Ray assumed that the man, who had been working with the department for almost 30 years, had simply lost his love for the job and no longer cared in the way he used to.

"Okay. Thank you for letting me know, David," Ray said. "Is it okay if one of my seniors comes over sometime tomorrow? You will need to give a statement before this can be investigated properly."

"Yes, of course, Ray," David said sincerely. He wanted to do whatever he could to help the boy. "But the boy really is in danger. I'm sure of it. You guys will see for yourself. And... Well... Anna and I have talked about this, and if he needs an emergency place to stay for a while, we would love to have him. He and Michael are thick as thieves and Anna and I adore him, too. I would hate for him to get shipped to some other home where this just keeps on happening. That poor boy has been through too much to risk that happening again."

Ray contemplated David's words before saying, "Thanks, David. If push comes to shove, I think the department would strongly consider your offer. In fact, if that does happen, I will put in a suggestion that I become the boy's worker from now on. However, we're getting ahead of ourselves a little here."

"Yes, I know. But that's great news. He needs a good worker and you would just love him. I know you would."

"Oh, before I go. Have you and Anna thought any more about that other thing?" Ray asked, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

"Yes, Ray. We have. Anna and I want to initiate the proceedings for Michael's adoption."

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Please email me. I'm lonely :'( ... I also want to know if you guys are enjoying the story or not.

Don't forget to check out the website @ https://LittleNinja.world

Feedback and suggestions are always welcome. Hit me up @ nifty_little_ninja@proton.me

A HUGE thank you to those who have contacted me already. Your praises, comments and suggestions mean a lot to me and really make me want to engage more in this whole writing thing. Even if you've already emailed me, then I would still love to hear your comments on this chapter. I reply to everyone who drops me a line.

You can do whatever you like with my story as long as you credit me. Also, if you would drop me and email to let me know, too then that would be highly appreciated.
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Check out these other authors and stories. They have been a huge influence to me and they are highly talented writers:
Counting - Tux
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/counting/

Geeks - Paul Schroder
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/geeks/

Inspecting A Cum Pewter (Short Story) - John Candu
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/inspecting-a-cum-pewter

Timmy and the Travellers - David Clarke
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/timmy-and-the-travelers/

Nexus - David Clarke
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/nexus/
.....actually, anything by David Clarke is pretty freakin' awesome.

The Boys of East Harbor: Michael - The Brat
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-boys-of-east-harbor-michael/

Gingerbread Boy - Andrew Thomas
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/gingerbread-boy/

Brotherly Games - Delgrado
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/brotherly-games/

Eighteen Months with Rhett - Earth Boy
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/eighteen-months-with-rhett/

Be True To Your Heart - DLDaddy
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/be-true-to-your-heart/

The Life Of Matt Summers - Flaming Matthew
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/life-of-matt-summers/

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Li'l Ninja x