This story is completely fictional. Any similarities to any persons or events, past or present are purely coincidental. This story will contain scenes which involve sexual situations. If this type of material is offensive to you, or it is not legal for you to be reading this type of material, then please stop reading now. This story is copyright 2007 by Toni Philips. Please do not copy this story for distribution or post on any online server without the author's permission. Please send all your comments to: janeebest@yahoo.com. Thanks and enjoy the story.
So..Hi everyone! If you're even LOOKING at this, thanks. Even if you haven't emailed me, thanks for reading at least. I DO hope you enjoy it... So, uh...I just wanted to say that I make a point of answering EVERY email I get,but this weekend, I'll be gone, so don't expect an email RIGHT back. I do appreciate your time, though. Make sure to thank Baruch for editing. He has to put up with a lot... :D
Chapter Two
Timothy believed he would have plenty of time to think about James, but when he arrived home, his mom' had already heard about his disruptions' in class.
As soon as Timothy had closed the door behind him, Mrs. Milton had started to question him.
"You were given detention?!"
Timothy rolled his eyes.
"Yes, Mother!"
"Why? The school year is JUST starting!"
"I don't know... I was just doodling during class..."
Timothy moved away from the door, and walked up the stairs that lead to his room.
"We're not done talking, Timothy!" Mrs. Milton sternly said.
Timothy sighed and continued walking up the steps.
"Yes we are!"
As soon as Timothy entered his room, he locked the door behind him, and moved to his bed. The teen liked his bed. It was the only thing he could count on in life. When the boy got hurt, it's not like he could talk to the Miltons. Yet, his bed was always there, waiting for him to enter. The comfy mattress would surround him, making the boy feel safe and wanted. Timothy shook his head with a small smile. `I'm crazy... whose best friend is a bed?!' He lost his smile, though, as thoughts of James and the junior entered his head. The teen pictured them playing on the bus, then holding hands, and finally making out. That made him sick to his stomach. Why couldn't he do that with James? Timothy sighed, knowing he screwed everything up with James, and he probably couldn't fix it. The boy had tried being nice, but he didn't want to let anyone into his life. Once his defenses were down, people could hurt him worse than ever. Timothy rolled over in his bed, facing the wall. He began movinghis fingers along the markings of his walls, and after a while of tracing, he began wishing he could run his hands over James' body...not a stupid wall! Timothy figured he'd be touching walls for the rest of his life... with his best friend, Mr. Bed.Later that night, Mr. Milton came to Timothy's door and began to knock. When the man received no answer, he barked in his military voice,
"Timothy David Milton!... Open this door immediately! Your mother and I are worried sick!"
Timothy rolled over from the wall and sighed.
"Coming, Dad!."
He wanted to argue against them, to tell them they're NOT his parents. The teen was ready to explain that he was leaving and never coming back. But, he knew that was stupid. He was always being so stupid...
Timothy got up and unlocked his door. He saw Mr. Milton, and noticed the man had a red face and militaristic style stance.
"Yes, father..."
Mr. Milton grabbed Timothy by the shoulder with a death-like grip.
"Let's go downstairs and talk."
When Timothy resisted, he added a stern, "Now!"
The boy followed him downstairs into the den, where Mrs. Milton was sitting.
"I see you got him out of his room."
The man ignored his wife's comment and told Timothy to sit down. He walked in front of the pair and began his lecture.
"Look, Timothy... your mother and I are extremely worried about you!. This morning, both of us noticed that you had an attitude!. We tried to back off a little, but even when we did that, you got a detention! I've already been contacted about your fight at the bus stop!. What is WRONG with you?!"
Mr. Milton started pacing the room.
"The two of us took you into our home, because we figured you needed guidance. We are continually seeing your behavior as disruptive!."
He stopped pacing.
"Your mother and I are getting you a therapist, Timothy!"
The air was thick, and Timothy dared not disrupt Mr. Milton's speech. He'd never seen the man so angry before. The teen stayed silent, although he had many thoughts bouncing around in his mind.
"This Friday, we are going to take you to meet Dr. Robinson, your new therapist. Is that understood?"
Timothy gulped, and then he nodded.
"Good!"
Mr. Milton's stern face melted, and he walked over to hug Timothy.
"Look, son, your mother and I love you very much. We hate seeing you like this, and, together, we are GOING to beat it."
Timothy wanted to hug Mr. Milton back; he really did. But, that would be letting him in...and that he wouldn't do.
To Timothy school had crawled by all day, making him feel even worse about his impending punishment. The boy walked into the detention room, not making eye contact with anyone. He approached the teacher, told the man his name and sat in a seat near the front. When the teen looked up, he noticed that only one other student was in the room, and that boy was already asleep. This was going to be a long day! Timothy had started to doze off, until he heard the door open. He watched intently as James walked over to the teacher, spoke for a bit and, then, sat in a seat across the room. There was NO WAY the perfect and beautiful James could have detention! Timothy hadn't noticed that he was staring at James for a while, until James' irritated gaze met his own. The teen's eyes read `back off.' Timothy inwardly sighed. He had screwed everything up! The boy knew he had. The detention teacher's chair screeched, as the man stood up, Then he exclaimed, "Don't any of you bastards dare leave, ya hear?! I'll be back soon!." He exited, leaving the room deadly silent. Timothy looked over at James, who peered back at him. They both glanced at the other kid and noticed that he was still out cold. Their gaze returned to one another. Timothy spoke first. He tried being lighthearted. "So... What are you doing in here?" James glared at him. "So... You're talking to the stupid fag now?!!" Timothy looked down. "I'm sorry about that." James cupped a hand at his ear. "Sorry, What was that?!" Timothy sighed. "I apologize... I was wrong." James smiled. "Good! I'm sorry, too." Timothy's head shot up. "What are you sorry for?" "For kicking your ass!." They laughed together, and when the uncomfortable silence returned, Timothy decided to sit in the seat next to James. "Uh, James?" "Yeah?" "You and that guy... the junior? Are you guys...together?" Timothy saw James contemplate an answer. "We... were. I don't know... We're sort of having rough times right now." James looked a little worried, but then he smiled. "Sorry, was that too much for your straight ears?!" Timothy nervously laughed. "Uh...no, you're okay. I was just wondering about you guys. You seemed close." "We are! But, we just might need a break or something. You know, like when you and your girl get too close? You feel like you need space, or at least something new? It's like that." "I- I wouldn't know about that." "What? Are you and your girl the PERFECT couple, or something?" James gave a cute little smile that showed his dimples, and that only made Timothy more skittish. "I... I'm single." James looked sympathetic. "It's okay, dude! You'll find a girl soon. I think everyone has a soul mate. You'll find yours soon." Timothy looked into James' deep brown eyes, and felt like he had already found his other half.In detention, Timothy and James had agreed to go chill at James' house. Timothy felt like he was in a real family's household. James' mother kissed her son on the forehead when he walked in, and was very cordial. She wore an apron, and the visiting teen could already smell dinner being cooked.
James' father was reading the newspaper, reclined on his sofa. The man, of course, acknowledged his son saying,
"Hey buddy. How ya doing?!"
It was affectionate, and even though his father was busy, the man took time out to greet his son. Timothy sighed to himself. He wanted that.
James had a nice room, complete with a big bed in the corner and a computer desk. There were car models all over the place, and posters on the wall.
Timothy noticed that the teen had a lot of hot guys on his wall. He looked at a particular one, with a model dripping with sweat in front of a car. The guy had the infamous `V' running from his chest down to his crotch, and his pants sagged just enough to see the beginnings of his pubic bush. The model's hair was dripping over his intense green eyes, and his body was tanned all over. He was so sexy!
Timothy whispered to himself,
"God that's hot!."
James looked over at him confused.
"Did you say he was hot?!"
"No! The- the car is hot! I meant that the, uh... car is great."
He turned away from James to hide his flushed cheeks and his not-so-small boner.
Timothy wasn't very convincing, but his host believed him, because he changed the subject.
"So, you like cars?"
"They're... okay."
In fact, Timothy knew virtually NOTHING about cars. All he knew was that they went `vroom vroom' and had four wheels.
James walked over and told his visitor that he could sit on the chair next to him.
"Yeah, for my birthday Dad's getting me ANY car I want! I'm thinking along the lines of a sports car, but..."
Timothy stopped listening. The teen just gazed in James' eyes while nodding, so his host would think he was paying attention. He just stared on and on and on...
"So yeah! I saw this purple monkey with a gun! He's like `put your hands up!' I did, but he shot me anyway, and I turned into an Oompa Loompa, except I was green, with orange hair!..."
Timothy had just started listening.
"What?!"
James burst out laughing.
"You weren't paying attention to me,... were you?"
Timothy blushed.
"I'm sorry!..."
"It's okay...dude."
James reclined sideways on his bed, and his visitor saw his smooth stomach exposed. It was...yummy. He stared at it, until his host spoke up.
"So what do you want to do?"
`I wanna bang your brains out!' Timothy thought ,as he started smiling.
"What are you grinning about?"
"Oh, uh...nothing!"
"No!... What?!"
James started smirking. And, he sat up on his bed.
"What?!... Do I have something on my face?"
Timothy giggled.
"No."
James playfully glared at Timothy.
"Tell me!"
"No!"
"We can do this the easy or hard way..."
Timothy laughed out loud.
"No..."
James jumped up and started tickling him all over.
"Tell me!"
Timothy was breathless, but somehow laughs still escaped his mouth. Tears were rolling down from his eyes, and he was too weak to fight back.
"St-stop!... PLEASE!"
"Tell me!"
James' fingers dug unmercifully into Timothy's ribs.
"Tell me NOW!"
"Your... HAHAA... your b- bel"
"Huh?"
"Your belll... Hehe."
James stopped tickling Timothy.
"What?!"
Timothy was gasping for air.
"Your..."
He cleared his throat.
"Your belly!"
"My belly?!"
Timothy giggled.
"Yeah! It was showing."
A smile slowly crept on James' face.
"You're a dork!"
Timothy stopped laughing. He didn't mean to be lame around his host. He always screwed everything up!
James noticed Timothy's mood change.
"What's wrong, Dude?!"
His visitor shook his head, and whispered,
"Maybe I should go?"
"Well... I thought we were having fun, but if you really want to go..."
Timothy looked up.
"You were having fun?... Really?"
"Of course I was!"
James' smile lit up the room, and Timothy felt better.
"Okay! What do you want to do?"
`I want to do YOU!' Timothy thought.
"Uhm...we can just chill." He giggled.
"Dude, your belly is so gay!"
James laughed.
"It's gay, huh?! " He laughed. "Well, what macho straight guy says `belly'?!"
"Your mom likes it!"
James looked surprised at Timothy's quick response.
"But your DAD said my belly was tasty!"
They cracked up laughing, while the time flew by.
Timothy entered the dark house after returning from James' place. He had dinner there, and met his friend's parents. They were cool. The boy was in deep thought, so he didn't notice Mr. Milton sitting in the recliner against the wall. When the teen tried sneaking up the steps, the man turned the lights on. "Where were you, Son?!" Timothy sighed. He didn't notice that it was so late when he left James' house. The boy had glanced at the computer's time once, and his heart almost stopped. He made sure to run home, for he knew Mr. Milton was going to freak out. The teen thought he had succeeded when he noticed the lights were off. Timothy had no idea Mr. Milton was waiting for him. "I was over at a friend's." "And you couldn't call?!" Timothy sighed loudly, and Mr. Milton stood showing a mix of anger and sorrow. "Why are you doing this, Timothy?! Your mother and I care so-" "She's not my mother!!" Timothy's outburst scared even himself. "Excuse me?" "You aren't my father, she's not my mother, and you guys DON'T give a damn about me!!" Timothy moved to run up the stairs, but Mr. Milton grabbed his arm. "Why would you say such a thing?!!" "Oh, please... Don't give me that crap!" Timothy took satisfaction in the way Mr. Milton's face showed his sorrow. He wanted them to be sad,... he sure was! The teen was sick and tired of being forced to live with people who hated him. "You don't love me! You adopted me, JUST so you could get the money." "What money, son?!!" Mr. Milton looked around the house. "That money sure as hell doesn't go into this damn house! We put THAT money into YOUR account for college!" He shook his head in disbelief. "What kind of people do you think we are?!!" "Whatever." Timothy turned away from Mr. Milton again, but was stopped by his arm. "No! We're going to settle this here and now!" The man gently pulled his son over to the couch and sat him down. He occupied the seat next to the teen and made a gesture that meant, `Well, talk.' Timothy sighed. "I know you guys hate me." "Timothy we don't despise you. We LOVE you. Its YOU that has a problem with US!" Timothy looked into Mr. Milton's sincere eyes. "No... I'm the one who killed my father! I'm the one who ruins everything!" Timothy was surprised by the man's hug, but the teen welcomed it. The boy even started crying on his right shoulder. "I don't know why, but I always seem to destroy everything!!..." Mr. Milton rubbed Timothy's back, and when he figured the tears had subsided, the man began talking. "Timothy, we love you! Maybe we haven't been showing it well enough, but I promise Mrs. Milton and I will from now on. We adopted you for a reason. The two of us saw the light in you. But, we also observed the anger and sorrow covering it." The man moved Timothy, so the that the teen could look into his father's eyes. "We wanted to eliminate that misery, so that the two of us would observe the light." "We... I love you, MY son." Timothy inwardly smiled and hugged Mr. Milton tighter. "I love you, too, Dad." And, he meant it.