Okay, second chapter's here. Be sure to read my other stories... Well, here goes. Any comments you guys and gals have are completely welcome. However, if you don't have anything helpful or nice to say, just leave me alone. You can get me at niftywriterjc@hotmail.com Several more stories are in the making, just check 'em all out.
Dedicated to: Wyatt, my first love. Tyler, I'll never quit chasing you! Santia, you're at least truthful! Tim, you're a great guy. Donnie, my first loyal fan! Everybody else who I treasure greatly, just know you're not forgotten. One more, Jim, who kept me from doing something stupid.
Lesson by: James Clark
Disclaimer: If it is illegal for you to read this, or if material of this sort offends you, leave now. The author, James Clark, reserves all aplicable rights to this story. It is lawful only for Nifty.org to display this as a public work. All others will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. PLAGIARISM IS ILLEGAL! THIS MEANS YOU GET IN TROUBLE IF YOU DO IT! If you should want to post this story elsewhere, or want a hard copy of it, then you must e-mail me and I will mail you written permission to do so, should I deem it worthy to do so. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is entirely coincidental; that's my story and I'm sticking to it! Thank you and enjoy the story!
Other stories by James Clark: Out of a Dream in the highschool section.
Chapter two
"WHAT THE FUCK?!", Mark's dad yelled, startling the two boys awake. "What the hell is going on in my house?! Why are you two like that in the bed?!", Jeremy growled.
"D-d-dad, I didn't know you were gonna be home early!", Mark stuttered. He was scared, and so was Brett.
"Are you faggots?! Answer me!!", Jeremy yelled at his terrified son and his lover. Mark couldn't move, and he was close to tears. He pulled the sheets up further over his still naked body. Mark started rocking back and forth as Brett looked on in terror.
"You ARE! Aren't you?!", Mark's dad screamed at them. "You little shit! How dare you do this to me! I raised you perfectly, I gave you everything you'd need or want, and this is what you do?! I'm going to beat it out of you!" Jeremy walked toward Mark's rocking body menacingly. Brett finally snapped to reality and realized what was going on.
"Mr. Jeremy!! We weren't doing anything! Mark had gotten hurt, and I stayed over for the night to make sure he was ok!", Brett told him, genuinely afraid for Mark.
"No boy but a fag-boy sleeps with a guy naked!", Jeremy replied, and then reared back his fist.
SMASH! Brett's knuckles connected with Jeremy's cheekbone before he could land the punch to Mark. While Jeremy was still dazed, Brett pounded a knee into his groin and another solid blow to his face. Jeremy fell to the floor, not sure what was going on. Brett looked back at Mark, who'd given a shriek when he saw his father go down.
"Come on, Mark! Get what you need out of here, and let's go before he wakes up! You've got two minutes, so grab what you need and throw it in a bag! We're going to my house. My parents can take you in for a while. Wake UP!", Brett yelled at Mark. Mark's eyes suddenly de-glazed, and he started rushing to pack everything he could. While Jeremy was still moaning on the floor, they hopped in Brett's truck, and drove off.
"Brett... what am I going to do?!", asked a teary-eyed Mark. Brett glanced over at Mark, and realized he looked even worse than he did after what happened last night.
"Damn", he thought. "This is really fucked up. I can't stand for Mark to be so sad. Everything's fucking up for him... I'll try to help him as much as I can."
"Mark, you're going to come and live with me, ok? That way, we can have some time to figure out what you're going to do long-term. I love you, and I'll help you as much as I possible can", Brett said. Mark's expression lightened slightly.
"I wish I could just tell him. But, that would make me a little fag-boy just like dad said. Why do I feel like this?! Why can't I just keep liking Steph?!", Mark thought to himself. Brett kept on driving, straight to his house. His house was a little while away, about thirty minutes. Last night he'd been pretty close anyway, and was gonna ask Mark if he wanted to go somewhere. This felt like a very long thirty minutes, a long, wordless, tense thirty minutes. They finally arrived at Brett's house. Brett was also an only child, but his mom and dad were still together.
As they pulled up, they noticed that the other vehicles besides Brett's car were gone. They also saw that the lights in the house were all turned off. Brett and Mark slowly got out of the car, and walked up to the door. A white square of paper with squinched print handwriting was hung on a nail that jutted out of the doorframe. Mark suddenly remembered that he had a scar from that nail when he came over for the first time. Brett's parents were great, and had always been very kind to Mark.
The paper was a note addressing Brett. "Brett, Jeremy called us. We really can't believe what's happening. You are not our son anymore. We've packed everything that belongs to you, and placed it around the side of the house. Take it and go. Do not come back. We cannot be associated with you, and we suggest that you go to a church to get help. Or else, we're positive you'll go to hell when you die. Good-bye, and please don't be here when we return home. You don't live here anymore. Ronald and Jan Thomas." Brett's eyes widened, and filled with tears as he read the note. Then, he collapsed, whirling into an abyss of nothing. Nothing mattered anymore, if he could just die.
"Oh my God! Brett! Brett! Wake up, wake up! Say something! Please, open your eyes! I love you, Brett, please wake up!", Mark cried as the tears streamed down his bruised face. It was about five minutes before Brett moved. Mark sat him up as his eyes blinked open.
"Why?", Brett asked, as he sobbed into Mark's shoulder.
"It's okay, Brett, I promise. Look, we'll go to the health department today, because testing there is free. They'll probably take me as a walk-in. Now, while we're there, we'll ask someone if there's a shelter or something we can stay at tonight and maybe tomorrow night, too. Then, the next day, we'll go to school, and talk to the counselor, allright? Now, let's go get your stuff. The sooner we get out of here, the better. I promise it'll be okay in the end", Mark said, desperately trying to calm his friend for the moment. He knew that half of the things coming out of his mouth were bullshit. But, he knew that in order to get anything done at all, he'd have to calm Brett down first. He thought about what they had.
"Brett, once we get your things in the car, we have to go to an atm. I have my debit card for my checking account. We're going to withdraw every red cent out of there before my dad can take it away. He wouldn't have thought about it by now, so we're safe for it as long as we hurry. Now, let's go get your stuff", Mark said. Brett didn't say anything to Mark, he just got up and walked around the side of the house. About six black trash bags were sitting there, containing everything that Brett owned. The both picked one up, and carried them to the car. They started packing them into the trunk, arranging everything to fit. The last bag split open, and they took time to pick up all of the clothes and objects that fell out. A small silver tin with a little padlock on it fell out.
"Hey, that's my box...", Brett said in a daze still. He sounded like he still couldn't believe what was happening. "I wonder if my stuff is still in it." With that, he grabbed the box, and pulled out a key from his pocket. The dazed look finally left his eyes as he opened the lock and popped open the tin. He pulled out its contents: a wad of cash, some assorted pills contained in an even smaller pop-top tin, a pack of cigarettes, and a joint.
"THANK YOU, JESUS!", Brett yelled, to no one in particular as he opened the pack of cigs and pulled one out. He lit it with a flick of a lighter pulled from his pocket, and inhaled deeply, greedily. "Oh, man that's SO much better! Now, let's head out. I'm a bit better now. I guess I should have expected this, but I really thought they loved me more. I'll be allright, now let's go before I lose my nerve. By the way, you want one of these?", Brett asked, holding out the pack. Mark grabbed one, and Brett struck the lighter for him. They both smiled, full of glee at the first thing that had happened right in the last twenty-four hours, not caring that it wasn't really important, only that it happened. It proved that not everything was shot to hell.
The boys finished putting Brett's stuff in the trunk, and a little of the dull, dim, sad, glazed look hung in both their eyes. Brett and Mark got in and buckled up, heading for the health department. Not much was said as they rode. Finally, they pulled up in front of the brick and peeling paint building, underfunded and misused. Mark and Brett got out, Mark leading the way again, and went inside. Walking up to the nurse at the front desk, Mark's hands shook slightly; he was not just scared, he was terrified.
"What can I do for you, young man?", she asked. The nurse was a very cheery, very plump lady in a very pink outfit.
"Yes ma'am, I need to get tested for ummm...", Mark faltered as a wave of embarassment hit him.
"Measles? Mumps? Rubella? STD's?", the nurse asked non-chalantly. She'd managed to spare him some embarassment by disguising the answer to his question in a very casual sentence, and in a very soft, casual voice. Mark smiled, and hoped that the lady realized how grateful he was for that.
"Yes ma'am, that last one", he replied. The nurse asked him to sit down for just a moment, and she would be with him shortly. Another nurse was supposed to take her place soon, and she would help Mark herself. Again, he was ecstatic that he'd been saved further embarassment. Both boys sat down in one of the chairs over toward the wall, and waited.
In a few moments, the very pink nurse came out and motioned the two of them toward the hall leading toward the back of the building. They walked toward her, and then she started questioning them.
"Okay, do both of you want to get tested, or just one?", she asked.
"Just me, ma'am", Mark answered.
"Any special reason?", she asked again.
"Well, its sort of.... see... Brett?", Mark said with pleading eyes.
"Well, Ms. uuh...", Brett started.
"Pearson", she said.
"Ms. Pearson, my friend was walking home late last night, and was sort of attacked. I mean he was raped, and he's concerned", Brett said. He knew that it still hurt Mark badly that it had even happened.
"Okay, it'll all be allright. Couple more questions... are you allergic to anything? How old are you? Don't worry, we can't really refuse to test or treat you, and besides, I just might smudge the numbers a bit for you. And... are you able to pay for your treatment?", she asked.
"I'm not allergic to anything, and I'm sixteen. I don't really know about payment today, but I can definitely pay you tomorrow. I have to go by the bank after I get done here...", Mark said.
"It's no problem at all, Ms. Pearson. We'll be able to afford it", Brett cut in. He knew that he had a good bit of money in his pocket, and he wasn't about to let his friend go through anything because he didn't have any money with him.
"Okay... you're all set. I'm going to draw some samples, then send the doctor to you momentarily, you sit right here", she said as they arrived at a room where everyone came to get their bloodwork done. Ms. Pearson went to a cabinet and removed a needle and vial for drawing blood, and walked back toward Mark, who was now sitting in the chair. After drawing the blood, she walked off.
"Brett, you didn't have to do that for me", Mark said.
"I know, but you would have done the same", Brett replied.
"I'm really scared, Brett", Mark told him. Brett looked at him lovingly, and reached over to hold his hand. About that time, the doctor walked in. They quickly drew back their hands.
"Hi! I'm Dr. Walker. Come with me. Umm... you are Mark, correct?", he said, pointing at Mark.
"Yes sir", Mark replied.
"Ok, then you can come this way, and your friend can stay here. Unless you want him to come, of course", Dr. Walker said in a fast voice. He had a great accent, but Mark couldn't really tell where from. It did make him feel much more comfortable though.
"I'd like it if he could come with me. Brett's the one who convinced me to come today", Mark said.
"Very well, follow me." They walked down another hall, and eventually walked into an examination room, and the doctor closed the door.
"Now, Mark, please don't be embarassed, and this is not your fault that this happened. I need you to tell me what happened to you", Dr. Walker said as he sat on a stool in the room. Mark's eyebrows furrowed since he didn't know the doctor's meaning.
"I'd like to know exactly what happened. What did your attacker do?", he asked Mark.
"Oh! Well, there were two of them, and both of them... well, one held me while the other one got behind me", Mark said, and began to break down. He was starting to cry when Brett reached over and hugged him.
"Ok, that's all I need to know. I'm very sorry that this happened to you, young man. However, it looks as if someone cares about you very much", Dr. Walker said. Mark's tears once again faded.
"Does it look like we're gay? Well, I have been sort of thinking about it... but Brett would probably disown me too!", Mark thought.
"I'll need you to remove your pants, and bend over that table right there. I have to see what kind of damage has occured", the doctor said. Mark slowly got up and walked to the table. He unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, and then pulled them down. Dr. Walker had put on latex gloves, and carefully spread Mark's cheeks.
"There is a small rip, but it should be healed within a matter of days. It's nothing to really worry about, and I'm going to give you something to put on it. According to your tests, there's nothing to worry about. We're going to give you a shot of anti-biotics, though, to kill any bacteria or infections that you may have received, and it will also help to keep your keister there from becoming infected", Dr. Walker said. Mark, who was pulling his pants back up, reddened, and Brett started cackling at the word "keister". "What is so funny?", Dr. Walker asked in his accent. He walked out, and returned a bit later with a hypodermic needle. After the shot was given, they asked the doctor about somewhere to stay for the night.
"Well, boys... I don't know what to tell you. There's nowhere that I know of. Unless you give yourselves over to the authorities, I don't really know what you should do. There aren't any shelters within a hundred miles that aren't full up", he replied to the boys.
"Why don't you turn us in?", Mark asked.
"I took an oath to treat you, not to tell on you. Besides, I'm bound in an obscure sort of way to keep confidentiality of your visit. You tell me not to, and I'll never breathe a word to anyone without the court first issuing a warrant", Dr. Walker said. The boys smiled, and said good-bye. Then, they walked (Mark somewhat painfully from the shot that was given in his left buttock) to the front desk to deal with Mark's bill.
"Ok, you owe a total of $72.58, okay?", the nurse currently stationed there said. Brett nodded and pulled out his money. He had two hundred in all, and paid the bill with cash. After that was settled, they walked back out to the car and sat down in it.
"What do we do, Brett? There's nowhere to stay", Mark said. Brett was quiet for a minute, but then he spoke up.
"I don't know if we can, but we'll try to get a room at the hotel", he said. Then the boys drove to the bank, and Mark walked over to the atm. He shoved in his card, and punched in his pin number. He then withdrew ever bit of money that was in the account; $342.87. He put the cash into his pocket, and went back to the car nervously. Mark really wasn't used to carrying that much money.
"Okay, you got what you need?", asked Brett. Mark nodded, and they started off again. After stopping for gas, they drove to a hotel in town. It was of the only low-priced, but tolerable hotels in town. The boys walked in, and talked to the clerk.
"We need to rent a room, sir", Brett said. The clerk looked at him.
"Okay, I need your driver's license, or some other form of ID", he replied. Brett pulled out his driver's license and handed it to him.
"Are you kidding me?", the clerk said. "You can't rent a room. You're not even eighteen. You can't legally sign to rent it yet. Sorry kid, you gotta go somewhere else." The clerk handed back Brett's license, and the boys left.
"Brett, any ideas now?", Mark asked, afraid again.
"We're going to sleep in my car for tonight, and maybe tomorrow night, and then talk to the counselor like we planned. We'll be allright", Brett said. After they went to a fastfood resteraunt and stocked up on food and drink, they drove to a more remote place, out of town, on a dirt road that no one ever came down. The boys could tell by the fact that there were no tire tracks on it. It had been a while since anyone had been there. After they had parked off the road behind some trees, the settled down. It was getting dark out.
"Mark, help me get some things out of the trunk", Brett said. They grabbed a big blue comforter out of one of the trash bags to cover up with, and there was a pillow in the same bag. Mark threw these into the remarkably spacious back seat of the car. Brett searched around the trunk and found what he was looking for; the joint that he had left there earlier, as well as the smaller tin. He removed a two small blue pills, which were Valium, from the tin, and placed it back into the bigger one. Brett walked back around and saw Mark pulling up the front seats as far as possible, and straightening the blanket in the back. He set down the Wendy's bag of food, and placed the drinks that were opened in cupholders. He put the rest of the cans under one of the front seats.
"Surprise!", Brett said, holding out the joint. Mark sighed, and plopped down on the seat. The seats were pushed up enough that they had a good bit of leg room, and they stretched out as much as they could. Brett reached into his pocket, and removed the two blue pills.
"Valium, man. If you want one, you can have it. I just thought that today would be a great day to take 'em, according to my psychiatrist", Brett said. "Only take these when you feel you under extreme stress, and your life is becoming much too taxing for you to handle!", he said, mimicking a Freudian voice. Both boys enjoyed a well deserved laugh. They smoked the joint, and ate most of the food that they'd bought. They talked for a while into the night. Mark got more and more quiet, and more and more somber as the night wore on, though.
"Mark, what's wrong with you? Are you allright?", Brett asked, concerned. Mark turned his head to face Brett.
"Brett, I have something to tell you. Please don't be mad at me... but I have to tell you. Here goes", Mark said, and took a deep breath. "I'm in love with you, Brett."
Brett almost gasped at Mark's courage, and then regained his senses. He smiled at Mark, who by then didn't know what to do. Brett slowly leaned over to Mark, and closed his eyes. His lips got closer and closer to Mark's, and then touched. Mark was surprised, but returned the kiss. The boys stayed embraced like that for a while, kissing gently. They separated, and Brett was breathing hard, and Mark was astonished.
"I've always wanted to do that!", Brett said. "I've loved you for a long time, Mark. You just made me more happy than you'll ever know!"
"I love you, Brett. I wish I'd told you sooner, and I promise that we'll get out of this mess", Mark said. He wrapped his arms around Brett, and hugged him close.
"I'm really tired, can we go to sleep now, Brett?", Mark asked, dreamily.
"Sure. Ummm....", Brett trailed off.
"Yes, I want us to sleep naked, and I want us to sleep right here, this close to each other", Mark said, answering his question before he could ask it. The boys smiled at each other, and slowly undressed, placing their clothes on the front seats. Brett crawled under the covers, completely nude, and Mark got under the cover on top of him. Both of them nuzzled together for a while, feeling wonderful just by being that close to each other. This was the love that both of them had waited for. Slowly, Mark and Brett started to doze off, arms and legs entangled, and with their bodies pressed against each other lovingly.
"I love you, Brett", Mark whispered.
"I love you too", Brett whispered back, just before they both fell asleep.
Okay, that's the end of that chapter. I know, I know... sad. I cried while I was writing it. And, if you even dare to email me asking where the sex is, I will fry you alive. If you'd just been kicked out of your home, would you feel like fucking like bunnies? No. So, I hope those of you who are mature enough to read these stories for something other than sex enjoyed it. I love emails, and if you have any constructive criticism, then you can get me at niftywriterjc@hotmail.com
See ya' soon.