This story is about male/male relationships and contains graphic descriptions of sex. You should not read this story if it is in any way illegal due to your age or residence.
This is a work of pure fiction. This story is the sole property of its author and may not be copied in whole or in part or posted on any website without the permission of the author.
Questions and commentary can be sent to djakeeba@aol.com
Please consider donating to keep Nifty going. Details at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html
TRAGEDY IN THE BLOOD by Steven H. Davis
Chapter 28
I must have fallen asleep too at some point, because when Taine's shifting awakened me some time later, it was dark outside. I opened my eyes and hugged him close, kissing the first thing in reach, which happened to be his right nipple. I traced my tongue around and it and felt it begin to stiffen between my lips. I continued to trace my way up the side of his chest with my tongue, dipping it into the valley of his armpit and lapping at the silken hairs.
"That tickles," Taine giggled sleepily, and pulled me on top of him.
We shared a long, tender kiss, its gentleness quite in contrast to the frenzied passion which had knocked us both out with satisfied exhaustion more than an hour ago. Taine wrapped his arms around my lower back, resting his hand on my smooth, round ass, which now belonged only to him.
I felt as if, with his rough and insistent fucking, Taine had removed from my front, my rear and all points north any lingering emotional traces of Jeff's cold and painful invasion, of Kathy's smarmy blowjob, of Mark's smirking kiss, or even of... that other thing. That other thing from two years before, which I always did my best not to think about. In my mind, I had become a virgin again, and had then been retaken and claimed solely by Taine, the man whom I loved. And that was just fine with me.
"What are you thinking," mumbled Taine, studying my face as I raised myself slightly on my elbows to admire him.
"I'm thinking that I'm the luckiest person in the world," I replied, covering his lips, cheeks and chin with light, playful kisses which made him giggle again. I flicked the tip of my tongue into that adorable dimple and grinned.
"That was a pretty cute railing you gave me," I smiled.
"I told you that I'd show you 'cute'," Taine chuckled.
Then his eyes grew serious and concerned.
"How was it? I mean... I've never done that before. I didn't hurt you, did I?"
I closed my eyes, smiling and shaking my head no.
"Did I look like I was hurting? You were fantastic. You could never hurt me, because I want you inside me. It only hurts if you don't really, truly want it. Did I hurt you on Sunday?"
"No," he said softly. "You were so sweet and tender, and you took it slowly enough that it didn't hurt at all. In fact, it felt better than anything I've ever felt in my life. It's just, I'm not as experienced as you are, and I was kind of rough..."
I silenced him with a long, gentle kiss.
"I didn't tell you the news," I said.
"What news?" Taine asked.
"Well," I replied, stretching languorously along his body, "I've decided that you made me a virgin again and then marked me as yours and yours alone. From this night forward, I have no experience with anyone except with you. I've never had an experience except with you."
He looked down at me as I kissed his neck and clavicle, genuinely moved.
"I love you, Ricky," he whispered.
I hugged him tightly to me, breathing in his light, wonderful boy-smell, and thought I must be the happiest guy alive.
"I love you, Taine," I murmured, stroking his hair while rubbing my head softly against him. "You're everything I ever wanted and never knew. You're what I was praying for all those nights when I was a kid, standing in the yard and looking up at the moon, yearning for something, someone to make me happy and take away the pain. God answered me by sending an angel, and that angel is you, Taine. It's you."
Taine wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me to him as tightly as he could, and I felt a lone tear fall on my cheek. I looked up at him, concerned, but he was smiling.
"I don't want to say it," he said. "Because you told me how you felt when Jeff said it."
I frowned, and then it dawned on me what Taine meant and I broke up laughing.
"This is different," I snickered. "We've been cuddling and kissing and sleeping on each other for almost two hours. You can say it."
Taine scrunched up his lips, refusing to say a word. His eyes twinkled with mischief. Finally I rolled off of him and groaned in mock-exasperation.
"Fine," I said, rolling my eyes. "I'll say it. Let's go take a shower."
Taine grinned, slapped my ass, and then bolted from the bed and raced me to the bathroom, both of us giggling all the way.
We got to take our time with our shower that night, and it was almost better than the sex. I let Taine decide on the water temperature, as it was his house and I didn't want him to get scalded by my usual showers, which Rex referred to as "Rick's Baptisms of Fire."
We stood facing each other, completely naked and vulnerable, but daring to trust another human being with this level of intimacy for the first time in either of our lives.
Slowly, carefully, and with heartbreaking tenderness, we washed each others' bodies, each of us exploring every inch of the other, softly explaining our scars, kissing frequently and lovingly, and looking into each other's eyes with awe and wonder, as if we had discovered amazing and wonderful new lands, their beauty and mystery opening itself up to us, and us alone.
We soaped and cleaned each other's skins as if they were the most precious and delicate gifts that we had ever received, our fingers and washcloths gliding gently and soothingly across each other's magical and glistening terrain. We ended up just standing together under the warm water for a long time, foreheads bent together, our bodies touching lightly from chests to thighs and our hands cupped lovingly around each other's cheeks.
After we had patted each other dry with a pair of thick, luxurious towels from the bathroom closet, Taine told me that he would be right back and disappeared down the stairs, naked as the day he was born. Chuckling at the sight of my beloved streaker zooming downstairs, I returned to the bedroom and lay down on my stomach, burying my face in Taine's pillow and inhaling its sweet scent.
In a few minutes, I heard Taine's feet pounding up the steps. I looked over my shoulder at him, and he gave a seductive leer as his eyes locked onto my smooth, round ass.
"Keep that up and you won't have to get me drunk," he said, a little out of breath. That was when he pulled his hands from behind his back with two glasses full of ice and a dark amber liquid.
"Whatcha got there, Babes," I asked. "Are those cocktails?"
"Yes, they are," Taine announced, padding over to the bed and handing me one of the glasses. "Bacardi and Coke, to be precise. Dad's got a full bar downstairs. I squeezed some lemon in it too... gosh, I sure wish Bacardi would invent a lemon-flavored rum."
"Sly lets you drink?" I asked with surprise as Taine climbed into bed next to me, sitting crosslegged by my side.
"Not really," Taine smiled, taking a sip of his drink. "But what he doesn't know won't hurt him."
I grinned, lifting myself on my elbows so that I could taste my drink. It was wonderfully cold and fizzy, very sweet and with a slightly sharp alcoholic tang. I knew that at the tender age of fifteen, I had found my drink for life.
"This is really good," I said, and then I felt something cold and wet at the nape of my neck. "Hey!"
I twitched at the freezing sensation, nearly spilling my drink, and looked back over my shoulder. Taine had taken an ice cube, and was slowly, teasingly running it down my back, tracing the line of my spine methodically downward as the ice melted, until he finally deposited the small remains of the cube in my hairless crease.
I smiled expectantly as Taine set his cocktail on the nightstand and bent forward, the tip of his tongue lapping the trail of melted ice water from the small of my back all the way back up to my neck, which he began kissing and sucking passionately as he slowly climbed on top of me.
I turned around slightly, reaching my left arm up to wrap around the back of Taine's head as I angled my face back over my shoulder to meet his sweet kiss. I started to roll over onto my back, but Taine stopped me by placing a warm hand firmly between my shoulder blades and leaning to whisper in my ear.
"I want to try it this way," he said, in a low, tender voice, his breath in my ear sending delicious shivers throughought my entire body.
With no further ado, my cocktail joined Taine's under his bedside lamp, our bodies melded together, and we bent our backs to the night.
I awoke at dawn to the sounds of Sly banging around in the kitchen downstairs. I was sure he was preparing his standard enormous breakfast, and I was starving to get some before school. I was on my right side, Taine curled tightly around my back with his left arm holding me close and his soft breath tickling the small downy hairs on the back of my neck.
If I had a choice, this was how I would want to wake up every morning for the rest of my life.
It was then that I noticed that Taine had spent the entire night with his beautiful boy-part inside me. The thought filled me with contented happiness as I turned over carefully and felt his warm, soft penis slowly slip from my body. I gazed at Taine with my heart bursting with love, kissing him lightly across his lips and sleep-warmed cheek.
"Babes," I whispered. "Time to get up. Let's get some breakfast before school."
Taine scrunched up his beautiful face and buried it in my neck.
"I don' wanna," he protested sleepily.
"Come on, tiger," I teased. "You've gotta keep your strength up if you're going to make what happened last night into a habit."
Squinting one eye against the warm sunlight streaming into his window, Taine opened the other and looked at me happily as he broke out into a huge yawning stretch which consumed his entire lithe young body. I couldn't resist stroking his tight, warm belly as he did so, inadvertently tickling him and causing him to laugh.
"I do want to make a habit of it," he growled seductively. "But next time, it's your turn. I miss having you in me. It feels great."
"Yes, it does," I agreed, taking him into a passionate embrace. "We'll just have to take turns."
We kissed deeply and for a long time before Taine finally pulled away reluctantly, his stomach growling. He smirked bashfully and pointed to it with raised eyebrows.
"I guess we better go eat," he said. "It's almost 7:00."
We quickly dressed and made sure our schoolbooks were in order in our backpacks. I strolled over to Taine's bedroom window, which overlooked the street, and took a quick glance outside to make sure it wasn't looking like rain.
As I scanned the clouds, my eyes traveled down to a black Dodge Charger parked across the street. Before I could make out the driver's face through the half-open window, he had rolled it up and pulled away from the curb, tires squealing as the car raced up the street.
"Come on," said Taine, already heading for the stairs. "Chow time!"
I turned and followed him downstairs to breakfast, a growing sense of uneasiness replacing the blissful state to which I had awakened.
Chapter 29
Wednesday was our last big after-school practice before the Foxrun tournament, which would be my first of the year, since I had been suspended for the one at Chamberlain. The team had done fairly well at that one, considering that we were only one of seventy-two schools participating. Carter qualified in Humorous Interpretation, placing second, and Linda had placed second in Poetry Reading, but that wasn't a qualifying event.
Our speech team had done better. Kathy Witcher had placed third in Lincoln-Douglas Debate, qualifying for state because one of the two finalists had pre-qualified at another contest that we hadn't attended; Robin Powers had qualified with a second place in Men's Extemporaneous Speaking; and we had three other finalists besides. But Polk managed to place second in the overall sweepstakes because of one guy: Robert Steadman.
Robert was a tall, handsome African-American junior who was quiet and dignified in his personal life, with a great sense of humor. He lived around the corner from me and had a younger brother on the basketball team. His father (whose name was also Robert) was a fit, athletic war veteran who ran every morning despite his scarred, burned and withered left leg, which -- due to some unspecified combat trauma -- was little more than a thin stick, scar tissue wrapped around bone. I admired his perseverence and athleticism in the face of such an injury.
When Robert Steadman Jr. opened his mouth at tournaments, pure gold flowed out. He nabbed first place in Original Oratory at Chamberlain, bolstered with a quarterfinals appearance in Lincoln-Douglas Debate (losing only to last year's national champion by the luck of the draw) and topped it off with a first place in Dramatic Interpretation, a cutting from the football drama Brian's Song which brought the audience in the finals room to tears. Robert was our big weapon that year, and no one doubted that he had a very good chance of winning State and moving on to Nationals in at least one event.
The team was still teasing Kathy that day in Mr. McRory's room, as she -- despite her obvious debate skills -- had a rather amusing speech impediment, causing her to pronounce her "r"s as "w"s, particularly when she wasn't paying attention to it as closely as she did in competition. Apparently, at the Chamberlain tournament, she had gone to check the "break sheets" posted in the cafeteria, which announced the contestants who had moved from one round to the next, and noticed that Robert Steadman and Robin Powers had both advanced to the final round of Original Oratory. Upon making this discovery, Kathy had exclaimed in surprise, releasing a sentence which sounded like this:
"Wow! Wobewt and Wobin in the same Owation wound! Woo, what a wough woom!"
This became the mantra of our forensics team for the rest of the year, spoken in hushed tones whenever both Robin and Robert made the finals in something, which was fairly often, or just any time we needed to get a cheap laugh at Kathy's expense. Her response was always a haughty toss of her hair, after which she would turn on her heel and leave the room, pointing at the trophy table as concrete evidence of her speaking skills. Secretly, I prayed that I -- Rick -- would make the finals with Robert and Robin at one tournament, just to extend the joke's potential.
I ran through my Humorous Interp of Titanic and joined Linda for our Duet of Same Time, Next Year, impressing Mr. McRory enough so that, after he gave us our final notes, he took me aside and said, "Rick, you're showing a lot of promise for a freshman, and I really want you to try out for the play next week."
I agreed that I would and hurried off to follow Linda to the school parking lot. She was still talking to Carter about something or another, and I noticed them smiling intimately and leaning in to each other as the afternoon sun kissed their golden-blonde hair, seemingly blessing their incipient romance.
They moved apart slightly when they saw me approaching, and Carter gave me a big shit-eating grin.
"Hello, Mrs. Premise," he trilled, in the high-pitched British accent of Monty Python.
"Hello, Mrs. Conclusion," I exclaimed in return. Pointing at Linda, I continued the bit: "There's a penguin on the television set!"
"Hmm," Carter went on in character. "How d'ya suppose that got there?"
Linda cut us off, having heard us do this particular bit numerous times, but laughed anyway just to be polite.
"You guys are so funny," she said, "but we have to get going. I'm starving."
"I'll call you later," Carter said with a wink, and ambled off to blaze up with Roger and Jack Delman, his two senior stoner buddies. Neither Roger nor Jack ever really had much success at tournaments, but they enjoyed the experience so always entered regardless, usually in Prose, Poetry or Impromptu Speaking, the less-demanding version of Extemp which didn't qualify for State either.
Linda and I began walking toward her car, and both of us were happily surprised -- if a bit puzzled -- to see Taine leaning against the hood. I ran up and hugged him, sneaking a kiss in the otherwise empty parking lot. Practice had run until six o'clock, and I hadn't expected my Babes to still be around.
"Taine!" said Linda, giving him a big hug, "Have you been waiting here this whole time?"
"Naw," Taine demurred. "I went over to the mall and had some Orange Julius."
"For an hour and a half?" Linda teased. "You guys..."
Taine blushed and I grinned happily as we piled into Linda's car. Orange Julius or not, Taine still had plenty of appetite for sweets when we stopped at the nearby ice-cream parlor so that Linda and I could have some burgers. Taine ordered a gigantic strawberry shake, topped with whipped cream, multi-colored sprinkles and a giant maraschino cherry. Linda giggled as the waitress -- dressed as if it was the 1950s -- deposited it in front of him, along with a steel shaker containing some extra pink goo.
I went to hold his hand under the table, but both of Taine's perfect paws slapped themselves around the glass, the cap lowered over the straw, and half of the giant shake disappeared into Taine with a loud slurping sound. Linda and I both giggled as the brim of the cap raised to expose my Babes' confused expression. He looked at us with puzzlement.
"What?" he said, "I like strawberry shakes."
Which only made us giggle some more. There was nothing more adorable than an adorable boy who didn't realize exactly how adorable he was.
Linda dropped us both off at Taine's house, where I called Rex to let him know that I'd be home later. After some minor grumbling about how he'd had to feed the birds while I was "dancing around the maypole," as he termed my Drama activities, Rex assented. I gave a quick wave to Sly, who was watching the news in the living room, and followed Taine up the stairs.
Tossing our bookbags together in the corner of his room, Taine and I flopped down together on his bed, side by side, and shared a long and loving embrace, nibbling at each others' lips in happy reunion.
It seemed now as if any time at which we were not joined physically was an interruption of our special bond, and we had to re-establish it by hugging and kissing until we felt that the magical unity of our souls had returned. Neither of us had ever known such close connection, such complete intimacy with another human being, and we valued it highly, cherishing and nurturing it with great attention and care.
What we had was not the typically lust-centered teenage experimentation -- which even led countless straight boys into each others' arms and beds when the hormones were surging -- but something profoundly spiritual, which joined us through our adolescent angst, our inner fears and hopes, and even through our dreams.
"I had a dream about you a couple of nights ago," I said softly as we lay on our sides facing each other.
"Tell me," Taine said, his eyes intent and expectant.
I felt as if Taine was always somehow starving for information about himself. I don't think he was confident enough in his perceptions of who he was or how he fit into the world to rely on his own observations. Human interaction was strange and confusing to him, and he often needed it interpreted and contextualized before he would be at peace.
He needed additional data, in other words, and was always curious about how his thoughts and actions were seen by others, especially in dreams, which he valued highly, and especially if those dreams were mine.
"I dreamed about the drawing you made," I said.
I told Taine about the dream, and he listened to me intently as we lay there, one of our arms around each other's waist as the other was clasping each other's free hand between us. When I had finally finished recounting my dream, I snuggled closer to Taine, resting my head softly into his neck as I cuddled his warm, slender body next to mine.
"What do you think it means, Babes? The drawing, the dream... what does it mean?"
Taine was silent for a long time, but I wasn't alarmed, as I knew he was digesting, processing what I had told him, gathering his thoughts and emotions, searching for the right words to carry the burden of explanation from deep within his soul to the outside world, which at that moment was represented by me.
At long last, he pulled away from our embrace, looked me in the eyes, and slowly stroked my hair and the side of my face, never breaking contact, with his other hand held firmly in my own. I gazed deeply into his eyes, studying his expression with expectant admiration. I was lost in the moment, almost forgetting my question as my breath was once more taken away by Taine's sheer heartbreaking beauty.
With a long expression of concern drawn across his perfect face, he studied my eyes as if searching for understanding, for encouragement... almost for permission, it seemed to me. I nodded my head slightly, and that appeared to be enough.
"I really want to talk to you about your dream," he said softly. "I also want to tell you what that picture I drew means to me. But after that, I want to be able to talk about a conversation I had with my dad. Is that okay, Ricky?"
"Of course it's okay, Babes," I said sympathetically. "You can tell me anything and everything, you know that."
Taine rolled slowly onto his back, and I propped myself on an elbow and leaned over him, still hugging him to me with my other arm. He looked up at the ceiling, took one more deep breath, and began to speak.
"I'm trapped in that cell," he said. "Abandoned by my father, who just left my family alone in our grief after my baby sister died as if we didn't matter, and by my mother, who left me alone later by dying just when I needed her the most. I've always felt isolated, and imprisoned in that isolation. I feel like I'm imprisoned all the time, shackled by the barbed wire, and it's slowly bleeding me away. All those barbs on the wire, they're my past. Those razor-sharp barbs are everything that ever hurt me, and I bleed from every one of those wounds all the time. Every minute of every day. Do you understand?"
He turned his head to look at me. I nodded, unable to speak. Taine acknowledged my nod, then turned to the ceiling again and continued.
"I'm not surprised the barbed wire sliced you up," he sighed. "I told you that my past would hurt us both. In the picture, I drew your shadow in an open doorway, as if you could free me from that cell. But your dream is much more likely to come true than my drawing. The door closes, you're locked in with me, and we both get hurt... really hurt. And it's going to happen soon, Ricky. What came up behind you -- that monster or whatever it was that you dreamed about -- that thing wasn't in my picture, but it was real. And it's coming."
He kissed me then, and I melted into him, but both of our minds seemed to be elsewhere.
My mind was on my dead dog, the misspelled note written in Foxy's blood, and the black Charger.
What Taine was thinking, I cannot say, but I held him as tight as I could while we each mulled over our own dark fears of what might be coming next.
We laid together that way for a long time, until Taine finally pulled away, looked back toward the ceiling, and began to tell me about his conversation with his father.
Thank you for reading Chapters 28 & 29. To be continued...
"Exploding Penguin" by Graham Chapman, John Cleese, Terry Gilliam, Eric Idle, Terry Jones and Michael Palin. Performed by Monty Python. c 1971 by British Broadcasting Corporation and Python (Monty) Pictures.
Once again, I'm always happy to hear from readers at DJAkeeba@aol.com. You have all been so supportive and encouraging, and I thank you all for your e-mails.
If you're enjoying this story and others on Nifty, please consider making a donation to the site. Details at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html