Disclaimer: As I have been warned, I must state that this story is 100% fictitious, and is wholly from my imagination. If this resembles work by others or stories in real life, that is merely by coincidence, nothing more nor nothing less. All acts of sexual congress in this story performed by those under the age of eighteen was performed with their consent. Also, it wouldn't hurt to donate to Nifty... ;]
Benjy's Boy: Chapter Eight
"Son?"
"Dad?!" I screeched, Benjy still cradling me like a child.
"Son, what are you doing?"
Benjy let me down onto the floor, and we both scrambled ourselves onto the sofa and covered up in the blanket sewn there.
Almost suddenly, I heard the click of a switch and the chandelier in the living room burst into life, and my dad ambled himself into the centre of the room.
"N-nothing, dad," I mumbled, almost sheepishly, and barely audibly.
"Doesn't seem like nothing to me! What were you... and with... and those noises... what? Who even is this kid?!" asked Father Dearest.
I couldn't bare to look at him, never mind reply. My eyes lay on the ground,as I sat beside Benjy on the sofa, in the nude, after my father had caught us together.
"He's... he's...," I stuttered lamely.
"I'm Benjamin," Benjy replied almost confidently.
"An American. Well, Benjamin, what the hell were you doing fucking my son?! They might be able to do that stuff in Maine or New France or wherever you're from, but not here, not in this house, with my son!" Dad screamed at him, his face red and his eyes almost daunting.
"Sorry, sir, but we're dating."
"Dating? What? You mean... son... no. But, I mean, you're not... are you?"
"If he wasn't, why would we be dating?" Benjy asked.
"Oh, you little cunt! Get out! Get out now!"
Benjy stood, revealing his entire naked form to my father, as I sat still and shocked under blankets on the sofa. He slung on his underwear, grabbed the remains of his clothes and threw them over his shoulder, before waving goodbye and strutting out of the door.
"You're not one of THEM, are you, son?" he asked.
"Why else would I have a boyfriend, dad?"
"And... does Willy know?"
"No, I haven't told my mam yet. Only Lydia knows in the family. But what are you doing here, and where's Lydia? I thought she was sleeping at yours."
"She... she is, but I came to check on you. It's been so long since I seen you, and I find you doing that... with him... oh, god!"
He looked like he may puke, but I didn't know my father all that well. A few moments later, I practically begged him not to tell, at least for a few months. He denied a few times, but once he saw me crying, he promised not to tell a single soul until I wanted him to, before he wandered out without giving me a second glance.
The rest of the night and remainder of the weekend I stayed in my room, locked the doors and windows, and kept to myself. I spent that time reading The Old Curiosity Shop by Charles Dickens. I never knew why, but it was always a book that calmed me down.
I hadn't seen Benjy since the day, and I was sort of hoping that I wouldn't see him for a while, even if until Monday, at school. But I knew that I didn't hate him, I still kind of loved him, but I was sort of embarrassed. To be caught like that, it just stunned me entirely.
On Monday morning, I followed my original plans of going to the Alley, like I did every few mornings. The Alley was this place where people like me (goths, emos, punks, etc) all went to smoke. Of course, it being illegal for people my age, we had to hide it from the Police. I never did smoke before, but I had a feeling I would today. I would just usually lurk beside my friends, in the background, going unnoticed. That was how I liked it, really. Plus, I didn't expect to find Benjy there. He probably didn't even know that it existed, and didn't smoke any way.
The Alley was basically an old alley that was once a short cut behind two corner shops. However, about fifty years ago, a wall was built at one end, making it a dead-end alley. Then, a few years later, another wall was built at the only entrance to the Alley. But, the teen goth and emos and punks always just either climbed over the shortest wall or wriggled through a gap in the wall where a few bricks had been chipped off. It was dark and secluded, and no one knew it existed. There were no windows or doors to get to it, and the only real entrance was the gap or climbing over the walls around it. It was the perfect place.
I wriggled myself through the tiny gap, being one of those small people who can squeeze into little spaces. Ali had once called me an adorable little kitten that would bite you if you went anywhere near it, but I couldn't understand her. It was always Elise that I listened to. Although, her extended visit to Bermuda had left us kind of strained. She was my true friend, and she was always understanding. I would always find Elise in the Alley. It was like her second home. But for the past few months I had to spend more time with people like Alison and Elizabeth and Victoria, when Elise was my childhood friend, not any of them. But now I was their friends, and I would have been okay with them anyway.
"Kayden? Is that you, doll face?" Asked Victoria, before I had even climbed through the gap.
I couldn't see her. It was a dark and murky place that smelled of cannabis and smoke. Even though it was daytime, the four walls enclosed around the Alley created a constant shadow there, too, and the place was practically always flooded with crowds of emos and suchlike.
"Over here, dude!" she shouted once more.
After my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, I noticed Victoria waving her hands like a lunatic, trying to steal my attention. She was dressed pretty usually, in her Dr Martens and ripped skinny jeans, with a tight and laced top and leather jacket on. Her face was still white as a ghost, her eyes a dark blue. But her hair was new.
"New hair colour?"
"You like it? Got it done on Saturday. I think it suits me."
"Uhm,Victoria, you're hair is bright green," I pointed out.
"You don't like it."
"No, it's pretty, I suppose."
"Oh, sit down, flatterer. You're so cute, you know," Victoria slurred. I sat beside her, and instantly knew that she was high as a kite. "Want a smoke, sexy boy?" she asked.
That was a joke Victoria and I had, based on the day we met. It was a few months ago, after Elise had left me to go to Bermuda for a few months. She was really my only friend, but she introduced me to her friendship group. I had two choices after she left: befriend her friends and join her group, or be a lonely fucker. So I decided to make friends with her friends. I started with Ali, who I already knew because she lived on my street. She introduced me to her best friend, Elizabeth, who she hates now. Then Elizabeth introduced me to Victoria, in this very Alley. Her first words to me were "Want a smoke, sexy boy?", and I burst out laughing for no other reason than my surprise at what she called me. It was an awful first impression for both of us, but we became good friends, and every time she saw me in the Alley, she would ask that same question. But, every time she did ask, I denied.
"Actually, yeah, give me one," I told. Her face lit up in shock and she started chuckling, then coughing.
Victoria then pulled into her pocket and pulled out a box of fags. She put one in her mouth and sparked it up, before handing me one.
Although she was Elizabeth's bisexual lover, and she was one of those limited few who knew I was gay, she lasciviously placed it into my mouth for me and then pulled me in to her face. I was shocked, but then she pressed the two cigarettes in each of our mouths together, lighting mine.
I sucked on it and took it back. I wasn't expecting it to feel that bad, but it stuck in my throat like vomit and forced me to cough as loud as her. My face turned red and my eyes watered. My throat rumbled and crunched like paper.
"You'll get use to it, doll."
"Are you sure? That was shit."
"Ha! You little arse!Can't handle one fag? Eee, Kay. What time is it, by the way?"
"Nearly quarter passed eight," I replied.
"No! Oh, shit! School starts in forty five minutes," she bellowed.
"And?"
"And me and Elizabeth always do a little... something... before school. See you in the quad, Kay, bye!" Victoria firmly grabbed all of her papers and the jacket she was sitting on, stuffing it into her Vans bag-pack. Then she tossed her black hood over her head, and planted a kiss on my cheek, leaving a big blotch of black lipstick smeared across the right side of my face.
"Wait, what if you get... you know... caught?"
"Why would that stop us?" she replied, before running to the gap and sleekly sliding through it.
Almost as soon as she had left, something began happening in the Alley. A punk with a rainbow-coloured Mohawk pushed a goth with black hair. Before anything could be done, the two were diving on top of each other. They began throwing punches and bouncing on top of each other. Chants began being called, and that lead to more people joining in. Eventually, it lead to a full-on goth vs. punk fight.
I tried to leave. I stood, and tried to sneak away, but it couldn't be that simple. I was a "Goth", according to punks. For you readers, there is a great difference between the two. They are entirely different styles. Anyway, I was considered a goth, and therefore a target for the punks, and I finally realized this when I had almost reached the gap to escape. Two approached me from the shadows, and one grabbed me from behind. The pinned me against the wall and dubiously held me down. I could do nothing to stop it. One of the two in front of me approached, a skinhead. With a malicious smile rubbed across his horrid face, he began throwing punches at me. The other came to my side and began kicking me, and the one in the back let go. Before I could stand, I had fallen to the floor. The walls began enclosing around me, and my head bashed against a chipped crack and broke skin there. I could feel the warm and dense blood beginning to ooze from the cut, as I slipped from consciousness, with the three punks daringly booting me over and over as I lay as helpless in the Alley.
Thanks for reading part eight! Feel free to contact me on this email account but you MUST use cap locks for ALL letters in the subject, and make it clear, because I get a lot of emails from lots of shit.
Email, comment, jack off, whatever tickles your peach. Thanks for reading, don't forget to donate to Nifty.org, especially if you're one of them rich bastards that never seem to have no money. Thanks again, part nine will be out soon, kay, bye bitches!