The following is a work of fiction. Any similarities to anyone are purely coincidental. The story is intended for a mature audience. It may contain profanity and references to gay sex. If this offends you, please leave and find something more suitable to read. The author maintains all rights to the story. Do not copy or use without written permission. Write Ron at ronyx@woh.rr.com with your comments. Ronyx is a Nifty prolific writer.
Love on Trial Chapter 14
Jason and Chris were waiting for me to arrive sixth period. They had saved a seat for me between them. Mrs. Mason had a stunned look on her face when she saw me sit down beside Jason. Her look began to emerge into a wide smile. She nodded appreciatively at me, but said nothing.
"Hey Asswipe," said Jason when I sat down.
"Asswipe?" asked Chris. He had never heard Jason use his pet name for me.
"Yeah," grinned Jason. "He uses his hand to wipe his butt." Chris almost fell out of his desk laughing. I elbowed Jason in his side, causing him to let out a grunt.
We stopped when the guy behind us said angrily, "You guys act like fags."
Jason started to rise. He had his fists balled up, prepared to fight. I grabbed his arm and pleaded with him to sit down. "Come on, Jason," I begged. "It's not worth it." He looked at me and slowly sat back down.
Mrs. Mason started the lesson. It distracted everyone from what had just happened. A few students nearby were hoping to see a fight. When we were assigned seat work, the guy behind us seemed to be having problems; so I invited him to join us. He hesitated before finally moving his seat up and working with us. Later, he apologized for the remark he had made at the beginning of the period.
When the bell rang, Mrs. Mason asked Jason, Chris and me to remain behind. She pulled up a chair and sat down with us.
"I take it everything is better?" She asked, looking at us intently.
"Yes, Ma'am." Jason and I answered in unison. "We're still friends," Jason said. He looked over at me and smiled.
"That is wonderful," she replied. "I just knew it would work out. You guys have been hooked at the hips for as long as I can remember." We playfully searched our hips looking for the hooks. This caused her to laugh.
"Are students still giving you a hard time?" She looked at me worriedly.
"Not too much," I responded. "It's getting better. Only the Shays brothers seem to be a problem."
"Word around the school is the football team is keeping an eye on you." She said.
"Yeah," I replied. "They've already saved my ass a couple of times." She gave me a stern look. "Oops, sorry."
"Yes, well," she smiled, "we can't have anything happening to your ass."
I thought Chris was going to fall out of his chair because he was laughing so hard. "I told you he was an asswipe," joked Jason. This just made us laugh even more.
"Well, enough of this," said Mrs. Mason trying to regain her composure. "Seriously, Taylor. If you need anything, come see me."
We talked a few more minutes, and then left. I could tell that Chris seemed a little nervous. After making up with Jason during the afternoon, I had almost forgotten that he was going to go home with me.
"You ready?" I asked. He nodded his head.
"I have to go to my locker first." He replied.
"Where are you guys going?" Jason sounded disappointed that he had not been invited. I felt a little embarrassed telling him that Chris was going home with me and then not inviting him. I really wanted to talk to Chris alone, though.
"I invited Chris to come home with me," I said. He looked disappointed. "Maybe you can come over after dinner."
A smile appeared on his face. "Yeah," he said. "That would work. I'll see you guys later." I watched him walk quickly down the hall. It appeared that he wanted to start skipping. A huge smile broke out on my face. I looked over and saw Chris watching me.
"Ready?" I asked. He nodded and we walked to his locker to get his books. I tried to get him to talk, but he was suddenly very quiet. I was beginning to think that he probably wouldn't open up to me once we got home.
We had to take the bus, since my car was still being repaired. We stopped at a local fast food place to grab a bite to eat. I thought he seemed a little too nervous to go straight home. We ordered our food and took a booth in the back of the restaurant where no one was sitting.
He sat quietly nibbling on his hamburger. I kept looking at him and making funny faces, but he'd just roll his eyes at me. No matter what I did, I couldn't get him out of the somber mood he was in.
"You're awfully quiet," I finally said, trying to break the awkward silence.
"Sorry, I'm not very good company." He said. He didn't even look up at me when he spoke.
"I like being with you," I replied. He looked up and met my eyes.
"But I bet you'd rather be with Jason," he said, looking down at his hamburger again.
"My whole world doesn't revolve around Jason," I replied. "I said I liked being here with you." I picked up a French fry and threw it at him. He looked up and grinned. Then he pulled a piece of his hamburger off and tossed it at me. We both started laughing.
"They're going to kick us out of here if we don't stop," I said, as I tossed another French fry at him.
"Truce, then," he laughed, throwing another piece of his sandwich at me.
"Ok, truce." I acted like I was going to throw another fry, but instead shoved it in my mouth. He seemed to relax a little more after our playful exchange. We sat and talked about school mostly. I decided to wait until we got home to confront him about his father.
After a short walk to my home, we went to my bedroom. He walked in and immediately started looking around. He stopped at a picture I had of me and Jason on the wall. It was of our eighth grade graduation. We both were dressed in suits and looked like miniature business men.
"I remember this," Chris began to laugh. "You were so cute that day." Suddenly, realizing what he said, his face began to turn red.
"Thanks," I said. "If I remember right, you looked pretty good too in your navy blue suit."
"You remember?" He replied astonishingly.
"Not really," I laughed. "Just a wild guess. Almost everyone had on a blue suit that day." He walked over and playfully punched me in my arm.
"Ouch," I cried. "That hurt." I faked like I was in great pain. He looked at me and bent over laughing.
"Wimp." He laughed.
"Wimp?" I shouted. "I'll show you who's a wimp." I took a leap and grabbed him around the waist, pulling him over to the bed. He let out a grunt when I fell on top of him.
He struggled to get up, but I had his hands pinned down. He started wiggling to get away. I could feel my cock begin to harden. I'm not sure, but it seemed like his did too.
"Let me up, please!" He begged, rolling around even more. This time I could feel his hard cock rubbing up against mine. I pushed with more force.
"Say uncle," I laughed, while grinding deeper into him. We were both erect.
"Your grandma," he shouted, pushing upward. I looked down at his face and could still smell the hamburger on his breath. His chest was heaving with excitement.
"Say." I suddenly wanted to kiss him. "It." I moved my mouth closer to his. "Say." He closed his eyes and I could feel him trembling. "Uncle." Our lips touched, lightly at first, then the kiss became more passionate.
He kept thrusting upward, grinding his cock into mine. I was moaning softly into his mouth. After about a minute, we pulled away and sat up.
"Uncle," he said, looking at me with dazed eyes.
"Yeah, Uncle," I replied. He smiled and then got up and walked nervously around the room. I began to think that perhaps I had made a mistake by kissing him.
"He caught me two years ago kissing another boy," he suddenly blurted out. I looked at him and his eyes were glistening with the beginning of tears. He was fighting hard not to cry.
"I had a friend over, and we were swimming in the pool." He continued. "One thing led to another; and just like now, we started kissing." I sat and listened as he told me his sad story. I didn't want to interrupt by saying something wrong.
"I didn't know he came home early." His expression was so sorrowful that I wasn't sure he could go on. "He saw us and came out on the patio and started screaming. He told us to get out of the water. He looked at our swimming trunks and saw that I was hard." Finally, the tears began to fall down the side of his cheeks.
"He's hated me ever since." He cried. "He never allowed me to have any friends after that." I reached over and pulled him into me while he sobbed softly.
"I'm sorry." I said as I held him tightly. After a minute I asked him what had been on my mind all day. "Does he hit you a lot?" His body stiffened when I asked him that question, but soon he relaxed.
"No, not really," he replied. "Only if he thinks I'm becoming gay again."
"What do you mean, becoming gay again?" I asked.
"You know," he said. "If I act like a girl or something. Sometimes he'll see me looking at a boy and then hit me when we get home."
"What made him hit you the other day?" I asked.
"He heard me talking on the phone to Jason about you." He looked up sadly at me. "He heard me tell him I like you."
"Damn, Chris." I reached out and pulled him into me and held him tightly. "You've got to tell someone. It's not right what he's doing."
"He's never really hurt me, you know." He was trying to allay my fears that his father would some day harm him. "He just kinda shoves me or slaps me. He's never hit me hard."
"That doesn't matter, Chris." I said angrily. "He can't punish you just because you're gay."
"He knows he can't change that." He responded. "He just doesn't want me to act gay around him again. He says it makes him sick to his stomach."
"What does your mother say about this?" I asked.
"She doesn't know." He said. "He told me never to tell her."
I just looked at him trying to understand what was going on in his life. On the surface, he seemed to have everything- good looks, intelligence, nice home and loving parents. But inside, he was living a life of hell. He had a father who refused to accept his son for who he was. He wouldn't let him have friends for fear he might like one of them. Inside, he was a very lonely boy.
I reached out and pulled him into me once again. Soon our tenderness turned into playfulness. I guess we were trying to ease some of the tension that had built up while he told me the sad story of his life.
We began wrestling once again, each of us trying to gain dominance over the other. I finally was able to pull him over on his back. We were both dangling precariously over the side of my small, twin-size bed.
"So you kissed another boy, huh?" I grinned, looking down into his smiling face.
"Yeah, so what?" He grinned. "What you going to do about it?"
"This." I leaned in and our lips met once again. I forced my tongue into his mouth as he sucked gently on it. Once again, we both began to harden. I reached down and started to rub his cock as he moaned into my mouth.
Suddenly, the door sprung open. He pushed me off, and I landed flat on my ass on the floor. I looked up and saw my father standing in the doorway.
"Sorry, guys." He said embarrassingly. "I should have knocked first." He quickly closed the door.
"Oh, man." I buried my head in my hands and started laughing hysterically. "I can't believe my dad caught us kissing." I knew I was blushing brightly.
"You think it's funny?" Chris asked in shock. I looked up and saw his worried face and started laughing harder.
"Well, it was funny." I laughed loudly. "You threw me off the bed on my ass. Oh, man, he's never gonna let me live that one down."
"He's not going to be mad?" He asked incredulously.
"Mad?" I doubled over with laughter. "He's probably downstairs now laughing his ass off. First boy I kiss, and he has to catch me." I started rolling around on the floor. I looked up and saw a smile begin to form on Chris's lips. Soon, he too was laughing.
After a few minutes, I got off the floor and sat down beside Chris. I looked deeply into his eyes. "Will you talk to him?"
"Who?"
"My dad."
"I don't know. I'm too embarrassed."
"Please!" I leaned into him. "Please?" I said softly. "Please." Our lips met and we kissed once again.
"Alright."
"Good. Come on." After giving him a final kiss, I grabbed his hand and led him downstairs. My mother and father were in the kitchen laughing loudly. We both walked in with very red faces. I forgot I was still holding his hand, until my mother looked down.
"How's your butt, Son?" My father howled with laughter. I looked over at Chris. I don't think I had ever seen anyone as red as he was at that minute. His cheeks were burning brightly.
My mother, sensing his embarrassment, walked over and gave him a hug. She whispered something in his ear, which only made him blush even more.
"You guys need to grow up and act like adults," I said mockingly. This only made them laugh more.
All through dinner, my father would look at me and start laughing. I knew he had the image of Chris tossing me off the bed onto the floor etched into his mind forever. I could live to be fifty and he'd never let me forget that.
After we finished, and were putting our dishes into the dishwasher, I looked over at Chris and nodded. He hesitated a minute before nodding back.
"Dad, can we talk to you in the den for a minute?" He put his dishes away and looked at us. Seeing the serious expressions on our faces, he put his hands on our backs and led us down the hall to his office.
"Do you mind if I talk to him alone, Taylor?" Chris looked at me pleadingly.
"Sure." I was hurt because he didn't want me to be there; but I was just glad he was going to tell my father what was happening at home.
I paced around the living room while they talked behind the closed door. My mother kept asking what was going on, but I told her it was something personal. She accepted that and didn't push me anymore on the subject.
After about a half hour, they emerged from the den. Chris's face was wet with tears and my father looked like a man bent on murder. He informed us that he was taking Chris home and he'd be back shortly. I pulled Chris into the kitchen and gave him a quick kiss.
It was a little after seven when they left. I had no idea when my father would return. By the look on his face, I knew he wasn't just going to let him off and return. He would have let me go along if he was going to do that. I was afraid because I knew my father was going to confront Mr. Brewster. I was glad that they had been good friends for years, because I knew my father wouldn't hurt him. Or at least I hoped he wouldn't.
My mother forced me to go to my room and do some homework. She got tired of watching me stand at the window and pull the curtains back every two minutes to see if my father had returned.
I was writing an essay for literature when I heard a light rap on the door.
"Come in," I yelled out. I was surprised when the door opened and Jason stepped in. This was the first time we had been alone since the incident at Chris's house. I could tell it was as awkward for him as it was for me.
"Hey," I said, trying to force a smile.
"Hey, asswipe." He grinned and then walked over and sat down on my bed. He noticed that my bed was a mess. I had forgotten to make it after Chris and I had finished wrestling. My bed was usually meticulously made. It would easily pass an inspection by a drill sergeant.
"What have you been doing on this bed?" He asked innocently. He grinned when he saw me begin to blush.
"Where's Chris?" He smirked. He knew by my reaction that something had happened before he arrived.
"Dad took him home." I informed him. He looked at me, expecting me to say more; but I didn't. I figured it would be best to let Chris decide if he wanted him to know what was going on.
"What are you doing?" He got up and walked over and looked over my shoulder. "You still working on that lit assignment? I finished mine days ago."
"Yeah, well I've been kind of preoccupied." As soon as I said it, I regretted it. One thing I didn't want to do was remind Jason of what had happened. We were just beginning to rebuild our friendship and I didn't want to jeopardize that.
"Come here." He grabbed my arm and led me over to the bed. He sat down and patted the bed, indicating he wanted me to sit beside him.
"Taylor, we got to talk about it." He said seriously. "If we don't it will always be there, preventing us from being real friends again."
"Alright." I hung my head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen."
"I know that, Taylor." He said. "I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about us."
I lifted my head and looked questioningly into his face. I had no idea where this conversation was leading.
"You're gay, and I'm cool with that." He began. "But I'm not. I can never be what you want me to be. I can be your friend, but I can't be your boyfriend."
"I know." I replied. "I've always known that. It was just difficult for me to come to realize that, but I know it now."
"So you don't love me anymore?" He began to pretend to cry. "I'm crushed."
"Shut up, dickhead." I laughed. "You'll always be number one in my book."
"Good," he let out a sigh of relief. "I had better be." He reached out and pulled me into a hug. I relaxed in his arms. It felt good to have my best friend holding me.
"Ok, enough." He pushed me back and laughed. "This is getting just a little toooooo gay."
He looked down and began straightening out my bedspread. Suddenly, he looked at me and started grinning.
"You never did tell me how this bed got so messed up." My face began to burn a scarlet red. "And where did you say Chris was again?" He started rolling on the bed laughing at my embarrassment.
After laughing a minute, Jason sat up and gave me a serious look. "He really likes you, Taylor. He's always talking about you."
"Is that what you were talking about in Mrs. Mason's class?" I asked.
"Yeah." Jason grinned evilly. "I don't know why, but he thinks you're hot."
"Well, I am." I laughed, striking a sexy pose. Jason started rolling on the bed laughing again.
"You're such an asswipe," he howled.
I sat back up and looked at Jason. "So it wouldn't bother you if I see Chris?"
"Why would it bother me?" he asked. "You got your life to live, and I got mine. I really am happy for you." I could tell by the expression on his face he was being truthful. He was alright with me being gay, and perhaps, seeing a guy.
He suddenly became quiet. I could tell he had something else to say, but he was too afraid to bring it up.
"What is it?" I asked. "I know that look. Spill it." I watched as his cheeks began to turn red.
"Well, um." He stammered. "Alright. I'm just going to ask it."
"What?" He really had me puzzled. I'd never seen him this nervous before.
"Would you get mad if I asked Cynthia out?" I was completely taken back by this. I'd never imagined he liked Cynthia. They had been great friends, but Cynthia was not the kind of girl Jason would seem to go for.
"Are you serious?" I almost shouted. "You know her father is a preacher?"
"Yeah, I know," he responded. "When we were talking today- I don't know- I just started thinking differently about her. I can't explain it. It's like I really like her."
I just sat and stared at him. I'd never thought of him and Cynthia being together. But the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. There weren't two better people in the world than them. They would be perfect together.
A smile began to grow on my face. Jason kept studying me for my reaction. When my smile widened, I saw his eyes begin to twinkle.
"So you're alright with it?" He asked.
"Yeah," I said. "I'm more than alright with it." We leaned in and gave each other a quick hug. He sat back and smiled.
"Maybe we can double date," he grinned. "That would be so cool."
"Yeah," I laughed. "It would be."
Jason and I talked for a few more minutes. It was getting late and he had to go home. We made plans to ask Chris and Cynthia out to the movies on Saturday. We were both acting like two teen girls going out on our first dates.
After he left, I returned to working on my lit assignment. It was due the following day, and I still had a lot to write. About an hour later, I heard my father downstairs. With Jason coming by, I had almost forgotten that he had taken Chris home.
I bounded down the stairs and hurried to the living room. I stopped suddenly when I got to the door. Chris was sitting beside my mother. She had her arm around him, and it appeared that he was crying. In front of him was his book bag- and some luggage.
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