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Chapter two
I
Brandon
And so began our new routine. Marshal waited for me on the sidewalk at seven-thirty. We parted ways at the flagpole in front of school. We ate lunch together, mostly saying now dumb the other person was for liking the TV show or music he liked. I mean, Buffy the Vampire Slayer was cool, but everyone knows South Park was better.
A minute after the final bell released us at the end of the day Marshall showed up outside my Geometry classroom. Then we walked to my house together. I can't speak for him, but I was hard the whole way home, knowing what we were going to do once we got there. I didn't mind adjusting my boner in front of him so it pointed up and didn't kill me with every step I took. Marshall always rolled his eyes when I did that called me a Horny Toad and I always told him they were called Horned Toads and he always said Not with Hardons like this and patted my crotch.
Or course he made sure no one was around before he did it. It always made me blush but it always made me smile. I'd have to remember to write the Neanderthals a Thank you note.
Once we got to my room we didn't waste any time. We ignored my desk now and used the bed. We started out sitting on it and either he kissed me or I kissed him. Sometimes we held each other while we sat and sometimes we ended up lying down. Those times we always ended up humping against each other. I loved doing that. Once I kept doing it till I cummed.
Marshall starts out liking it. When he's humping me, he's not even aware he's doing it at first, but when he realizes it he stops. He says he likes me. And his body seems to like me until he starts to think about it. Then he gets real rigid as if the FBI, his fosters and the Pope all walked in on us at the same time. He'll stop kissing me and say he's sorry and skootch back and stop humping me. Which makes me feel like I did something dirty by humping him.
He's got no problem with the kissing, though, and we start up with that again. But soon we're really into it and he starts humping me again, which makes me feel horny as fuck, until he gets rigid and nervous and stops again. I asked him about it but he won't tell me why he does this.
And another thing. He always makes me cum. I mean always. Every day when we get together. He really does like making out as long as he doesn't hump me. He doesn't mind if I hump him and he always, every day, makes me cum. But he never lets me make him cum. And I want to so badly I can't stand it. I want to feel his cock. I want to taste it even more, but every time I try he pulls back and acts like he's doing something wrong. Not that WE'RE doing something wrong. Just him.
I don't know what the problem is but I have a good idea who the problem is. It makes me want to find his dad and make my opinion known with a kitchen knife of my own.
But then Marshall kisses me again and reaches for my boner and tells me how pretty I am and I'm cumming while he kisses me and for those few seconds there's only him and me.
I just wish the rest of his body liked me as much as his heart does.
II
Marshall
I nearly did it to Brandon again today. It's like I can't control myself. In bed last night when I was jacking off, I thought about it, too. Doing to him what my dad did to me those two times. I remember how bad it hurt me. And Brandon's such a little guy. It's not that I'm Captain Tripod but my hardon isn't just nearly twice as long as his, it's also a lot bigger around. I would never hurt him, but every time we're together all I can think of is fucking him. And that hurts bad.
So why do I keep thinking of hurting him when I like him so much?
Ellen said, "Earth to Marshall."
"What?"
Bruce said, "I asked you three times how your tutoring is going."
I hate lying to them but I told them the reason I'm late coming home every day is because Brandon is helping me with pre-Algebra. "Fine," I said.
Ellen smiled at Bruce. She said, "How are you doing? Fine. Where are you going? Nowhere. Who are you going with? Nobody. What will you be doing? Nothing. When will you be back? I don't know. You'd never know there's a teenager in the house."
I said, "Is there a cure for someone who's a bad seed?" The good mood evaporated just like that,.
Bruce said, "There's no such thing as someone who's a bad seed. Only someone who's had a bad start. And the cure for that is a loving home."
I shook my head. That sounded great but I knew better. I had Dad's genes and they showed up every time I was together with Brandon.
Usually, dinner with Ellen and Bruce was one of my favorite times of day. But I wasn't hungry anymore. "May I be excused?" I was already sliding my chair back.
"Why do you think you're a bad seed?" Ellen said.
I couldn't tell them why without telling them who and I couldn't tell them who without telling them what (I was), and I couldn't tell them what without telling them how (I knew), and then they'd know I wasn't only a bad seed, I was also a pervert. They'd make me stop going to Brandon's house, which meant I'd have to stop walking him home and I promised I'd always protect him.
What if they called the CPS people and said I couldn't live with them anymore?
I really wished they had let me excuse myself from the table when I asked because they hadn't seen me cry since the day I stabbed my dad, and If I'd been excused sixty seconds ago they wouldn't be seeing it now.
"Marshall?" Ellen left her chair and came and wrapped her arms around me. You've been with us three years. We would know if you were a bad seed. You're sweet and good and kind. Bruce is right. You were lied to for eleven years. I wish our love was enough to wipe those lies out of your head. You are nothing like your father."
I wanted with all my heart to believe her but I knew the truth. I didn't want them to stop loving me so when she asked me again why I thought I was like Dad I just shook my head. If I keep fighting it, and never hurt Brandon then Ellen and Bruce will be right, and Dad can go fuck himself, and I won't go fuck Brandon.
III
Brandon
"What's this?" Marshall said. He eyed the wrapped box I'd handed him while we walked to school. "I keep telling you that you don't owe me anything."
"Just open it."
I would have ripped off the wrapping paper, throwing the shreds aside to get to the gift. He was more careful. I remembered that he probably wasn't used to getting presents. Maybe it was still a big deal to him. If that was the case then good. I liked doing something for him that was a big deal. He opened the box and took out the pair of cheap sunglasses and raised his eyebrows at me.
"I know they aren't Ray Bans or anything fancy. But you can't be a proper bodyguard without official Bodyguard Sunglasses."
"What about the little coiled, spring shaped cord coming out of my ear?"
"I'm the only one who'd be talking in your ear and I prefer to whisper in it. Or stick my tongue in it. Your code name for me can be Wet Willy."
He put on the sunglasses and make sure no one was around, then groped my dick. "You wish I'd wet your willy." He made a slurping noise and then stuck his tongue out and wiggled it at me.
"Actually, I wish you'd let me wet YOUR willy. I don't even know what your hardon looks like. That's not fair. I was afraid to let you see mine cuz I was embarrassed but you told me it didn't matter what it looked like. How come I'm not allowed to see yours?" He didn't answer. He never answered when I asked him this. He either pretended he hadn't heard me or he changed the subject. I said, "is something wrong with it? I mean, did your dad do something to it? Like he did to your side? Did he fuck it up? Cuz I don't care if he did."
He looked straight ahead. Or I think he did. It was hard to tell with the sunglasses on. He said, "It's not my cock he fucked up.
He changed the subject, like he always did. "Tell me about this United Nations trip."
I knew better than to try and pursue it. He closed the door and if I tried knocking again it would only upset him. I'd promised myself I wouldn't upset him. Not because he was going out of his way to help me. Not because he made me cum so hard every day. Because you don't upset someone you're falling in love with. I left the door closed and let him change the subject.
I said, "The winners of the state Junior United Nations thing I did last summer have been invited to participate in the national levels. It's going to take place at the real United Nations next week. We're not going to win but it'll be cool hanging out in New York for three days."
"You ever see Sleepless in Seattle? We watched that last night. No way would I go to the top of the Empire State Building. I'm scared of heights."
"Not even to meet your true love?"
"You saying you're going to the top of the Empire State Building on this trip? Cuz I'm not going to be in New York."
"You saying I'm your true love?" He did that lopsided smile thing but he didn't shrug. I said, "I don't know if we're going to the Empire State Building, but we're going to the Statue of Liberty. There's stairs inside that go all the way up to the crown, which is pretty high. You'd pass out."
Two Neanderthals stepped from behind a tree. "That's the only way you'll ever be inside a woman, Tinkerbell."
Marshall's hands became fists. He used his Pass the Salt voice and said, "How would you like to be inside an ambulance?"
The Neanderthal took a stun gun out of hie pocket and pushed the button on it. It crackled and an arc of electricity came to life between the two electrodes on the end of it. "Let's see how tough you are now, motherfucker!"
Shit. Marshall's dead. Then I'm dead. I'm going to die and I've never seen Marshall's hardon. Marshall was awfully calm for a dead man. He turned to me with that lopsided grin as if to say, "do you believe this guy?" He handed me his sunglasses. "I don't want to drop these," he said.
Marshall took his shirt off, probably giving me one last treat before I died. Then he faced the Neanderthal and pointed to a red mark over his belly button. Something else I'd never noticed before. He said. "What you do is take a lamp and yank the cord out of it. Strip the wires from the end that used to go into the lamp. Plug the cord into the wall. Then grab your ten-year-old kid cuz you found out he's feeding a stray dog after you told him he couldn't keep it as a pet and put the live wires from the end of the cord against his belly, right here. The first time he'll scream and pass out. The fifth time he'll just scream. Then tenth time he won't even flinch."
When the Neanderthal kills me I'm going to hell because I've got the boner to end all boners. Marshall looks hot as fuck staring down the Neanderthal while he's bare chested. He walks over to the Neanderthal in no hurry. The confident look the Neanderthal had on his face is gone. Marshall grabs the Neanderthal's hand, the one holding the stun gun, and presses the Neanderthal's thumb down on the button that activates it. Then Marshall pulls the Neanderthal's hand to his bare chest and puts the stun gun against his skin. When the blue arc makes contact with Marshall's flesh, all he does is grunt once. He doesn't flinch. Then he guides the Neanderthal's hand away from his chest and puts the stun gun, with the arc of electricity still zapping, and against the Neanderthal's shirt.
And down he goes.
The other Neanderthal said, "You killed him! You're going to jail!"
Great. I'm going to hell and Marshall's going to jail.
Marshall turned to me again with that "do you believe this guy" look. Then he said to the Neanderthal. "I'm the one with a fresh electrical burn on my chest. He's the one with his fingerprints all over the stun gun. And you're the one whose ass I'm going to kick. How does that equal me going to jail?"
It turned out the Neanderthal was not the one whose ass Marshall was going to kick. The Neanderthal was the one whose ass would be hauling.
IV
Marshall
We were in Brandon's bed. I'd taken my shirt off. Brandon had a tube of Neosporin ointment and was rubbing it on the burn from the stun gun. I didn't flinch when I pulled the asshole's hand to my chest and made him zap me. Just like I'd learned to stop flinching with dad and the lamp cord. But the truth is it hurt like a bitch when it happened. It didn't tickle any when Brandon rubbed the antibiotic ointment on the burn but I felt safe letting him see me flinch. That's the crazy thing. He calls me his bodyguard but he makes me feel safe. Crazy.
"I got hard watching you today," he said.
"You get hard when the sun shines," I said.
He pinched my tit. "Shut up. I got harder watching you then. Happy?"
I put my hand over my mouth so he couldn't see me smile. Because it did make me happy knowing I make him hard. Harder. Cuz for real, I think that kid is hard 24/7. He said, "I thought about it all day. I don't know if I got hard because I saw you with no shirt on. Don't get a big head but seeing you with no shirt on has made me hard since I was twelve."
"You're a stalker."
He pinched my tit again. Now I was hard, too, but I'm not like him and don't feel the need to announce every boner I get. He said, "Or I don't know if I got hard because you were taking a million volts for me. It's one thing to beat someone up for me. But to take a million volts for me? Do you know how hot that is?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm a fucking moth."
He pinched my tit again, which to be honest is why I said moth instead of butterfly because I decided I liked having Brandon pinch my tit. I wondered what it would feel like if he bit it.
He kissed my burn. Then he went lower and kissed the cigarette scars. Then he kissed a scar we'd never talked about before, that I don't think he ever noticed before. Then he kissed the bulge pushing against my fly. He said, "Can I take it out? Just this once?"
"Can't we just make out?" I said.
He pulled my zipper down. "I want to make out with your dick." I closed my eyes. If I don't do anything except lie here, it should be okay. As long as I zone out and let him do what he wants to, without me doing anything to hurt him, everything will be fine. I used to zone out when my dad hit me and this was nothing like getting hit. I took a deep breath. I shrugged, which isn't easy to do when you're lying down.
Brandon didn't stop at my zipper but undid my belt too. "Lift up," he said. But I was working on zoning out. Then he pinched my tit again. He'd figured out that I liked that. This kid is something else. I reminded myself that I was just going to lie here and not do anything to him and I lifted my ass up so he could pull my jeans down. He did, taking my underwear with them.
I was naked in front of him for the first time. Even with my eyes closed I knew he was staring at me. He said, more to himself than to me, "It's huge." And then, definitely to me, "How big is it?"
I really wanted to pull my pants back on. "I don't know."
He must have known I was feeling Hagrid-ish. He said, "It's not 'oh my god kill it' huge, it's 'oh my god it's beautiful' huge." I felt him leave the bed and I reached for my jeans. "Stop that!" he said. I heard him rummaging through his desk drawer, then he felt him get back in bad. He grabbed my cock and I focused on zoning out again gut goddam his little hand on my cock felt incredible. I felt him put something against it. "Seven and one quarter inches."
"Okay," I said, because I didn't know what else to say. He gave it a couple of strokes, then ran his fingers through my pubes before running then gently over my balls. It took all my concentration to lie there not moving. I was so hard and I wanted to reach out and do to him what he was doing to me. But I knew it wouldn't stop there. I imagined a white dot of light in the distance and kept focusing on that.
Then something warm and wet slid over the head of my cock and it yanked me away from the light I was focusing on. I had to squeeze my eyes shut to keep them closed. He was licking me. "Brandon? I think that's enough."
He pinched my tit and tried to suck my cock into his mouth at the same time, shutting me up. He couldn't fit all of it into his mouth but he had the head and he was sucking and licking it like a crazy. I tried to lie still but my hips started moving. I forced myself to stop.
"Dammit!" Brandon said around my cock. He pinched my tit again, harder. A guttural noise escaped me and it was harder to focus on the imaginary white dot I was focusing. "Why are you holding back?" Brandon said. He gripped my dick and jacked it. "Why won't you let me make you feel good?"
The white dot. Just lie still. I can cum and give him what he wants without losing control. Just focus on the white dot and zone out. His mouth was on my cock again but his hands were gone. It was just his mouth. I heard a rustling of clothing. His mouth went away for few seconds and I opened my eyes. He'd taken his shirt off and was working on his belt. God he was beautiful. His little brown nipples, so much prettier than my bigger, lighter colored ones. My cock flexed. I wanted him so much. I wanted to tell him how much but I was afraid.
I liked making him feel good and I knew he liked it when I made him nut, but for me it was more than that. I almost said IT to him yesterday. It nearly just fell out of my mouth but I caught it in time. I've never said IT to anyone before, not even Ellen and Bruce. It would be bad enough if Brandon didn't say it back. It would be worse if he didn't feel it back. But if he laughed at me if I slipped up and said it? I wouldn't have to pray to not wake up, I'd just make sure it happened.
But looking at him now, with his black hair going in twenty different directions after he pulled his shirt over his head, and those hypnotist's eyes, and that little chest with the beautiful tits, and now his little banana dick curving up, it was hard not to say IT. It was hard not to give in to those bad urges I'd been fighting. He caught me looking at him and smiled at me and I felt like I was busted and I swear I blushed which was stupid but what can you do?
"You're leaking," he said. He put his finger to my cock and scooped up some precum and put it to his mouth. "Now that I've seen it you aren't allowed to hide it from me anymore." He grinned at me, like he was up to something. "Close your eyes again."
I did. I felt him leave the bed again and a few seconds later he was back. Then he was jacking me again but, "Holy fuck!" I said, opening my eyes.
He was still grinning that "I'm up to something grin" while he jacked me off but it never felt like this when I jacked off. "You never use lotion?" he asked. I shook my head. He took a bottle of Vaseline Intensive Care and pumped a couple squirts into his palm. Intensive is right. He wanked me some more and I don't know how I didn't nut.
He had my cock all slimed up and then he got on his knees and kind of crouched over me. "Brandon, no," I said. And backed away from him. He grabbed my legs and tried to follow, tried to lower himself over my greasy cock. "NO!" I said. And got off the bed. My hardon still throbbing and leaking precum.
"Yes!" he said. "That first day in the bathroom when you told the Neanderthal that I was my own toad and I asked you what that meant you said no one got to poke me with a stick unless I wanted them to. Fine. I want you to poke me with your stick, Marshall."
I looked around, trying to see where he'd tossed my pants when he pulled them off me. "I can't."
"Why? I want you to. And I know you want to. You keep humping me when we make out."
I found my jeans but not my underwear. I put them on. "It doesn't matter why."
"Please, Marshall. Why won't you fuck me?"
"You're too little!" I shouted. He looked at me as if I'd punched him. "I didn't mean it like that. I don't want to hurt you."
He grabbed a pillow and covered himself with it. "Really? Cuz you're hurting me just fine."
"Brandon---"
"Oh, look at the wee little sprite. I wonder if his tiny dickie works. I wonder if he squirts yet? I bet I can make him cum. I wonder if he has any hair down there? He's like a little doll." He wiped angry tears from his eyes. "Fuck you."
"Brandon, please. I don't think any of those things."
Still keeping himself covered by the pillow he leaned over the bed and reached between the mattress and the box spring. "I know you think you're some king of giant, but just because you're bigger than me doesn't mean you've got a donkey dick." He pulled an eight-inch dildo out from under his mattress and threw it at me. "If this doesn't kill me I don't think you will."
"Where did you?
He started talking baby talk. "Ooh did the widdle boy order a rubber weeny from the internet?"
I tried to take his hand but he jerked away from me. "That's not how I think of you," I said. "You know that's not how I think of you." I was panicking. I fucked this up so bad. "Look, I never told you this, I never told anyone this. One of my stepmoms one time, she was on her period---"
"I don't care! You're not your dad and I'm not you. I'm just some little kid you feel sorry for."
"No. That's not true. You're always going on about how I saved you when the truth is you saved me. I love you, Brandon."
"Liar. You don't love me. I'm just your toy." Neither of us said anything forever. Then he said, "I can walk to school by myself tomorrow."
I was trying hard not to cry. I hate when people see me cry. I said, "I will always protect you."
"Bye Marshall."
V
Brandon
If I didn't love him so much it wouldn't have hurt so much. I know he didn't mean it the way I took it but that has always been a sore spot for me. "Brandon can't do it, he's too little."
Brandon can't go on the roller coaster, he's too little.
Brandon can't join cub scouts, he's too little.
Brandon can't go on the sleepover, he's too little.
Brandon can't use those tools, he's too little.
Brandon can't fuck, he's too little.
Brandon can't be in love, he's too little.
Brandon can't have a broken heart, he's too little.
Brandon can't fuck up his best friend, he's too little.
Brandon can't be the world's biggest asshole, he's too little.
Wanna bet? Marshall tried to tell me something he's never told anyone. Something awful his dad did. Something that would explain why he's afraid that he can hurt me really bad by fucking me. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what that is, and I cut him off and told him I didn't care. He's had the worst life of anyone I know. I think he's had the worst life of anyone I don't know. Despite that, he's the kindest person in the world and I told him I didn't care that his dad maybe raped him. I didn't care that he was afraid of hurting me.
Screw your fears, Marshall, just fuck me. Make me feel good and to hell with you.
I'm as selfish as his dad. He's better off without me. But I'm not better off without him. And I'm not talking about getting pummeled by Neanderthals, which I one hundred percent deserve. I don't want to be my own toad. I want to be my butterfly's toad.
How can the world's smallest guy be the world's biggest asshole?
Marshall doesn't deserve the world's biggest asshole. He deserves someone as good as he is.
I kept hoping for a phone call from him, but nothing. The next morning when I left for school the sidewalk was empty.
So was our table at lunch. He wasn't at school at all. I was surprised the Neanderthals didn't take advantage of his absence and jump me on the way home, but I guess they remembered what happened the last time they jumped me and didn't want a payback visit from Marshall. I wondered how long it would be before they realized that wouldn't be a problem. I felt like telling them myself. I figured I had a beating coming to me after what I did yesterday.
VI
Marshall
All this time I tried not to hurt him and that's exactly what I ended up doing. I should have just given him what he wanted since I couldn't escape my destiny anyway. Dad fucked things up with Mom and Stepmoms #1 through #4. I fucked things up with Brandon. Like father like son.
I wished I could take back what I said to Brandon. Did Dad ever wish he could take back the things he said and did? I laughed out loud at that thought. I turned back and looked at Brandon's house. Was it too late to go back? I'd already tried to apologize. I even said IT and he called me a liar. I told him things I never told anyone, and the most important thing I told him, the hardest thing I told him, he didn't believe.
Yeah, it was too late to go back. I kept walking home. I turned onto our street at Mrs. Huang's detached garage. Just as I passed it someone stepped out and grabbed me by the arm and something poked me in the back. It felt kind of like the stun gun but not quite. Then Dad's voice was in my ear. "Miss me, son? I owe you this. Didn't want you to think I'd forgotten." And he walked away, carrying a knife.
I reached around to my back. My shirt was wet. I looked at my hand and it was covered with blood. It was just like I'd told Brandon. He waits until your feel safe and then strikes. This was the first time he'd waited two years. Our house was three doors down. If I kept going, Ellen would freak out and call 911 and an ambulance would take me to the hospital.
Or I could just sit down on the stoop of Mrs. Huang's garage and wait to die. I was still making up my mind when the decision was taken from me. The mailman's truck pulled up to Mrs. Huang's box. The mailman nodded hello to me and then did a double take. I tried to turn around and run away but my back was hurting and I was feeling woozy. I leaned against the wall of Mrs. Huang's garage while the mailman got on his radio. I never knew they had radios in mail trucks.
I spent the night in the hospital. Ellen stayed with me. The police were looking for Dad but no one knew where he was living now. In the morning I said I had to go to school. The nurse thought that was funny. "I've never seen a fourteen-year-old boy who wanted to go to school when he had the chance to miss it. Are you the teacher's pet or a brainiac or what?"
Ellen said, "He's no teacher's pet."
"Ellen, I have to go to school."
"Don't be silly. You had a blood transfusion six hours ago. If you're lucky you'll be discharged today. If you are, you MIGHT go to school day after tomorrow."
"I can't go tomorrow, either?"
"What's so important at school?"
I promised Brandon I'd always protect him. He already thinks I'm a liar. This will just prove him right. He leaves for New York in two days with that United Nations thing. If those assholes just leave him alone for two days, I'll be in school when he gets back. But what if they don't?
VII
Brandon
This is nuts. I kept hoping Marshall would call me, but I wouldn't call him, and for all I knew he was hoping I would call him and that's why he wasn't calling me. He's got one of those mobile phones but I don't know his number, only the number to the house phone. Now it's too late to call him because I'm in New York. If I do it from the hotel room it will be a million dollars a minute and if I do it from a pay phone it will be a million quarters a minute. Unless I call collect and I don't think he'll accept the charges. I could put it on the calling card Mom gave me but when Dad gets the phone bill he'll kill me.
So, I can't call him till I get home. Considering I haven't called him yet, I'm not sure that's what I'll do. But he hasn't been in school since our fight and I'm worried about him.
But then I get a sign. And I do NOT believe in signs. But except for a big neon sign saying STOP BEING A DICK AND CALL MARSHALL I don't know how much more of a sign this could be.
The United Nations thing isn't until this afternoon. We'd just finished breakfast and were on our way to our next tourist stop and on the way we passed a shop. I don't know if it was a souvenir shop or just a gift shop or what it was, but in the display window was a figurine. It was a bluish green toad. Heck maybe it was a frog but it looked more toady to me. It was looking up at its forehead and was cross- eyed. The reason it was looking up is because a big ol' brightly colored butterfly sat on top of its head. Its wings were folded up as if it was resting for a spell and wasn't going anywhere. It was there to stay. The toad and the butterfly, together.
Together forever as far as I was concerned. The class was continuing on past the shop. I peered through the window trying to see a price tag on the figurine. Mrs. Stone saw me and said, "We're on a tight schedule, Brandon. Let's go."
"I just need to go in here, really quick," I said.
"I'm sorry, we don't have time. Tempus Fugit!"
"Can we come back later?"
"We've got souvenir shopping at Grand Central Station booked for later today. Let's go!"
Grand Central station wouldn't have this figurine though. I took one last look at it. Even if I couldn't buy it for Marshall, I knew I couldn't put off calling him. Dad would just have to kill me for using the calling card, that's all.
VIII
Marshall
They kept me in the hospital an extra day, discharging me right after breakfast. I still didn't get to go to school but it didn't matter. Brandon had been in New York since yesterday. I could only hope the Neanderthals hadn't fucked with him. When he got back I was going to go to his house and he was just going to have let me in, that was all. I was going to make him accept my apology. He didn't have to let me come inside any more, but he was going to let me walk him to and from school. We didn't have to walk next to each other. I'd walk behind him he if wanted, but he wasn't going to be on his own.
When we walked inside the answering machine was blinking. "Someone called awful early," Ellen said.
She pushed play and I heard Brandon's voice. My face must have done something because Ellen asked me a question with her eyes. On the recording Brandon said, "Okay this is weird. I hoped to talk to you, but I don't have a lot of time and don't know when I'll have a chance to call back so here I go, talking to that crazy robot voice that told me to leave a message. Since it was a robot and not you or your Fosters I'm not even sure I have the right number so if I don't, please hang up now without listening to the rest of this. Oh! This message is for Marshall. If he's not listening to this can you hit pause or something and go get him? This is his friend Brandon. How much recording time do I have? Dammit I'm wasting valuable time. Shit. Anyway, Hi Marshall, if you're there and if you're not then whoever is, don't erase this, just play it back when Marshall is there to hear it."
Ellen hit the pause button. "Does he always talk like this?"
I was grinning. "Pretty much. It's worse when he's nervous."
"I hope he's nervous. Otherwise, I don't know how he ever finishes a thought."
She hit the play button. "I've been going over our last, um, conversation. Well, 'conversation' isn't the right word, but I'm talking in code in case someone else is listening to this and not you so I don't want to call it a fight. Anyway, I don't know if I have the order of everything right and I can't um, quote things because what if it's not you hearing this and it's hard to come up with a good code on the spot, and What if it's Mrs.... shit I know your last name but I don't know your foster mom's last name. What if Mrs. Ellen or Mr. Bruce listening? I mean for real I can't quote that conversation to them! Jesus! But I hope you know what parts of the 'conversation' I'm referring to. So. I know you don't want to do that first thing you said you don't want to do. And I'm sorry I said you were doing a good job of doing it." Ellen raised her eyebrows at me. I hoped my face wasn't as red as it felt. I was trying to remember the fight we had. I think he was saying he knew I meant it when I said I didn't want to hurt him. "And I know you don't think I'm those things I said you thought I was." That would be Midget or sprite or whatever. My heart was overflowing. I wished he was here. Ellen was still looking at me, not knowing what was going on, or who Brandon was, but she could see my heart overflowing anyway. She was smiling at me now while we listened to the rest of the message.
"And I'm sorry I threw the you-know-what at you and even if the you-know-what is ...hmm. Even if you aren't as ...well compared to the you -know-what I think...oh shit, I like you a thousand times more than the you-know-what, and I still think when it comes to poking toads I'd rather you poke the toad than the you-know-what pokes the toad."
Ellen paused the recording again. "Are you poking toads again? I thought you stopped that foolishness the day you moved in."
I shrugged. "He's my toad. Well, he's his own toad. It's hard to explain." She gave me a look that said it wasn't as hard to explain as I thought it was and hit play again. "And I'm SO sorry I cut you off when you tried to tell me what you tried to tell me about your own personal neanderthal. Because I do care. I care, I care, I care, I care. And when I called you a liar, I didn't mean it. I know you weren't lying. And me, too. Me too a lot. And I'm not lying either. A lot. Damn, Mrs. Stone is hollering at me to hang up the phone. Oh! Guess where I'm calling from? It's a pay phone in the lobby of the World Trade Center. I know you're scared of heights so I'm going to get someone to take a picture of me when we're at the top and when I get home I'm going to show it to you and watch you hyperventilate. Cuz I like making you breath hard. Oh shit! Don't listen to that Mrs. Ellen and Mr. Bruce! I mean he hyperventilates that's all! You should take him to a doctor for that. I'm coming, Mrs. Stone! I'll see you in a day and a half Marshall. Me too! Me too a lot! A whole lot!"
The message ended and the robot voice on the answering machine said, "Message sent September 11, 2001, at 8:33 a.m. End of new messages."
Ellen said, "is there something about you and your tutor you want to tell me?"
"That's a two-part question," I said. "Yes, there's something about me and Brandon. But I'm scared to tell you."
She brushed my bangs out of my eyes, which reminded me of Brandon. "You don't need to be scared, Marshall."
The phone rang. Saved by the bell, I thought. But Ellen said, "We'll let the machine get it." But then she looked at the caller ID display and saw it was Bruce and she hit the speaker phone button.
"El? Turn on the TV."
IX
Marshall
It's been four days since the towers came down. Ellen and Bruce know almost everything about me and Brandon. They don't know how I made him nut, or what we were doing before our fight. But they know about the jerks who beat him up and about me protecting him and how we used to make out at his house. And that I loved him.
And that I thought I was a bad seed because I wanted to do the stuff to him that my dad did to me.
Oh yeah, I finally told them what Dad did to me with Stepmom #4. But they already knew, which, what?
Bruce said, "Son, don't you remember the physical you had when you first came to us?"
"Sort of," I said. I was still zoning out a lot when the CPS lady brought me to Ellen and Bruce, and hold up, did he just call me 'son'? He'd never done that before. I liked how it sounded.
Bruce said. "The doctor who examined you documented all your scars and bruises. You had X- rays that showed healed fractures. A rectal exam showed evidence of penetration."
I didn't remember the exam. But hearing Bruce talk about it, and knowing they've known all this time what I did with Dad, made me feel ashamed. Just like Ellen saw my heart overflowing when we listened to Brandon's message, she saw how I was feeling now.
She said, "The universe dealt you a shitty hand when it was passing out fathers. But you need to understand that what he did to you has nothing to do with what you were feeling with Brandon. Your father's motives were selfish. When he raped you, his goal was his own gratification, with no regard for you. When you were with Brandon, you were motivated by love and wanting to make him happy. You are nothing like your dad. Your relationship with Brandon is.... was nothing like your relationship with your dad. If you ever doubt that all you have to do is listen to his message."
They'd disconnected the answering machine to make sure his message wasn't accidentally erased.
The doorbell rang.
Bruce went to the front door to shoo away whoever it was. He came back a minute later. "Marshall? Someone wants to see you. He's very insistent."
He moved aside and Brandon ran into the room.
X
Brandon
I am NOT a toy and do NOT allow people to pick me up like I'm some kind of stuffed animal but in Marshall's case I made an exception. He only picked me up after nearly knocking me over. Then he was kissing me, right in front of his fosters, who didn't seem at all surprised.
He finally put me down but didn't let go. "I thought you were dead. They had a memorial thing for you and the rest of the Junior U.N. thing at school. What happened?"
Just like always, him holding my hand had given me a boner. I was carrying a wrapped package which I'd managed to hold on to while he picked me up and smooched me to death. Now I put it in my lap to hide my boner from his fosters. I said, "You said you'd always protect me and you did. Even from five hundred miles away, you saved me." I handed him the package.
"What's this?"
"Open it. And open it properly. Rip the paper off and throw the pieces all over the place."
He ignored me and carefully unwrapped it like he was defusing a bomb. When the paper was off he opened the box and took out the figuring of the butterfly resting on the toad's head. He beamed at me through the strand of bangs that draped his eyes. "Where did you find this?"
"It was in a shop down the street from the World Trade Center. I wanted to buy it before we went in but Mrs. Stone wouldn't let me. But I knew I had to get it for you. So, when it was time to get in the elevator I said I was afraid of heights and would wait for them in the lobby. She said I had to go with them so I got in the elevator but as the doors were closing I ran out. When they went up to the top floor I went outside and back to the shop to buy this little statue of me and you. I had just stepped outside with it when the plane hit the building. You're the reason I wasn't in the North Tower. You said you would always protect me and you did."
"I keep telling you: you saved me," he said, and kissed me again.
XI
Marshall
The next day after school we were in Brandon's bedroom. My shirt was on the floor. I just had a clear bandage over the stitches where Dad stabbed me. Brandon ran his fingers over it softly. "You think they'll ever find him?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. Fuck him."
He looked nervous. "Maybe one day you'll fuck me instead. One day."
"How about today?
"Really?"
"I'm not gonna rip your clothes off and pork you. But yeah, we can work our way up to it."
He pouted. "I was hoping for the rip and pork, but okay." He took care of ripping his own clothes off. I remembered the last time I saw him naked.
I said, "I can't believe I nearly lost you forever. I don't mean to terrorists. I mean to my stupidity." I drank in the sight of him. His black hair and even blacker eyes that could still hypnotize me whenever he wanted.. "Bwawk! Bwawk!"
"Weirdo," he said.
I loved it when he smiled. I loved it even more when I was the reason he smiled. I loved his dark little nipples and his little chest. I loved the way his belly went in and out when he breathed with anticipation. I loved the dark whispies that his rigid boner couldn't hide. He was harder than hard. "Sixty-eight," I said.
"You say the weirdest shit. What's sixty-eight? I suck you, and you'll owe me a beej?"
"Your pulse. I can count your pulse in your cock. It twitches with your heartbeat." I loved the way his balls hung in his sack. They were smaller than mine. I wondered if I could fit them both in my mouth and then decided to stop wondering and find out.
"Oh!" he squeaked, like I'd surprised him. His balls were smooth, and yep, they both fit in my mouth. I was as hard as he was but not as naked as he was. I let his nuts slide out of my mouth and took off my jeans and boxers. He stared at my cock the way a dog watches a clumsy man eating a hamburger. But I wasn't done with his cock yet. I took his little curved banana into my mouth, something I'd never done before. His 68 joke gave me the idea. This time his "Oh!" wasn't one of surprise. He repeated it. "Oh! I didn't know! Oh!"
I didn't know either. I didn't know why I was afraid to say IT to him before. I didn't know how much I'd love sucking his cock. I slid my arms under his butt and hugged him to me, sucking his hard cock all the way into my mouth. His whispies tickled my nose. His cock was small enough that I could run my tongue all over it, the shaft, the bullet shaped head, all of it almost at the same time, licking it while I was sucking him. But at the same time, it was more than big enough to give both of us pleasure.
"Marshall, I can't help it, no, oh, I can't no stop I can't." I didn't care. I squeezed his ass cheeks and sucked him harder. When I nut, it squirts out of my cock but when he nutted in my mouth it just flowed out of the head of his cock, like a pot boiling over blub blub blub. I've never tasted my own nut before but his was wonderful. I kept licking his cock while he groaned and squeaked and his nut blurlbled out onto my tongue. Only when he'd stopped nutting did I finally swallow it. I'm kinda out of the mood for a little bit after I nut but he brushed my bangs off my eyes and said, "Fuck me. Put your dick in me." This kid is something else.
"Okay," I said. I reached for the Vaseline Intensive Care on his nightstand and squirted some on my cock. Jesus was it cold! "Umm. How do we do this? Doggy style or do you wanna lay on your stomach or?
"I wanna do it every way there is. But the first time I want to see your face. I want to watch you while you cum in me."
"You have to promise to tell me if it hurts. Or if you want me to stop."
"You have to promise that you won't stop unless I tell you to."
I nodded. I grabbed my cock and was getting ready to find his hole but before I could he reached up and grabbed me by the neck and pulled me to him and kissed me. While our tongues were still fluttering against each other he snuck his hand down to my chest and pinched my tit, making me grunt with lust. He grinned mid kiss, the little shit.
I broke the kiss only because our height difference made it impossible to keep kissing and feed his ass my cock at the same time. He grinned up at me and reached for my nipple again. "You like that," he said. He was right, but I never knew I liked it before, and once again I was grateful that he picked liking having my tit pinched instead of making me cluck like a chicken or doing the Hokey Pokey.
"Let's see if you like this," I said, and rubbed my lotion covered cock against his hole. His mouth and eyes both opened wide. For half a second I got scared. "You sure?" I asked him.
He grabbed my ass and pulled. "Put it in me!" he said.
I eased inside him and oh my god I don't know how it felt for him but it was incredible for me. His ass was so tight. It gripped my entire cock. It wasn't like my hand at all or even his hand. Every nerve ending on my cock was stimulated as I slid it inside him. We both groaned together. I'd planned to just go in a little bit and see how he was doing but I kept pushing into him until I was balls deep.
I thought he'd be panting or his eyes would be rolled to the back of his head but when I opened my eyes, which I hadn't realized were closed, and looked at him he was smiling the most beautiful smile. He ran his hands along my chest and belly and said, "You fill me so much better than any dildo." I felt his ass do something to my cock, squeeze it somehow, and I was unable to keep from moving. I started fucking him, little short strokes at first but it felt so freaking good I had to pull out more with each stroke. I fucked him more fully now-long, deep strokes, and he stopped talking. Instead, he made mostly noises. "Unh, unh, mmh, yeah, nnh, unnn, uh," His eyes were still open but they were glazed over and it made me think of how I used to zone out when my dad beat me.
I stopped and said, "Brandon? Are you okay?"
"Don't stop!" he said, his eyes snapping back into focus.
I grinned at him and said, "Thanks," because the truth is, I hated stopping. I started fucking him again. When I went really deep if felt like the head of my cock passed through some kind of ring or something. I don't know if it really did, or if I imagined it, or if he hypnotized me into feeling it. All I know is when the head of my cock rubbed over that ring it was the best feeling in the world and I pushed even harder into him. "Yeah, nnh, hhm" he said. His little boner had never gone soft after he'd nutted in my mouth. It still curved up over his whispies.
"I love you," fell out of my mouth. I liked how it sounded so I said it again. "I love you, Brandon."
He grinned at me. "I know." He wasn't being a dick. He was saying he believed me. "His eyes glazed over again. "Luh, luh luh love you too. Nnh nnh, yeah. Yeah. Harder. Harder. Fuck harder."
I can't believe I'd been worried about hurting him. I picked up the pace, slamming my cock into him now. He grabbed his knees and pulled his legs up toward his shoulders. "Harder!"
This kid was too much. I gave him what he wanted. I'd always give him what he wanted, no matter what it was. I shoved my cock into his ass as hard as I could, as fast as I could. "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Oh! Mar! Oh!" He'd just nutted a few minutes ago but there he went again only this time it wasn't blurbling out. A little rope of nut shot out of his cock. Because of the way it curved it didn't go far. It landed on his belly, and was followed by another one, and the rest blurbled out like usual.
Between the way his guts were hugging my cock, and the way that ring or whatever it was, was rubbing my cock head when I pushed way deep inside him, and the way seeing him nut always turned me on, it was too much for me. I emptied my balls inside him. If he had a tape worm I drowned it. I don't know long I nutted in him but it felt like days.
When I finally opened my eyes he was looking up at me, smiling. "Number one, I love you too, in case I was too inarticulate before. Number two you have the most amazing cum face I've ever seen but considering it's the only cum face I've ever seen you shouldn't let that go to your head. Number three, that is the first time I have ever double cummed in my life, and I think we should consider it a challenge and see if it's possible to triple cum, but why should I have all the fun? Have you ever double cummed and would you like to try because I would like to be the one to make you do it for the first time since you're the one who made me do it for the first time. Number four, I just realized we were both kind of loud so it's a good thing my parents aren't home but that means we can't do this here on the weekend and I was really hoping to do this every day so what are we doing to do on Saturday and Sunday? And Number shit I forgot what number I'm on , so number whatever, I'm really worried because I know how fucking FANTASTIC it feels to be fucked by someone you love you but you don't know how it feels and even though I know you love me but more to the point I know that you know that I love you, you won't know what it feels like to be fucked by someone who loves you because let's face it me being fucked by your dick is just not the same thing as you being fucked my dick. I mean that's like a flea floating down the river with a boner yelling at the guy who works the drawbridge, "raise the bridge! Raise the bridge!" confidence is all well and good but it's not very realistic.----"
"Do you always talk like this?"
"Pretty much. It's worse when I'm nervous or happy or in love."
He might be his own toad, but he's my Brandon. I could think of only one way to shut him up. It meant taking my cock out of his ass, but like I said. With our height difference I couldn't kiss him until I did.
If you liked this story, you may like my other stories on Nifty:
Young friends:
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/maxs-bucket-list/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-boardwalk/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-three-musketeers/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/puppy-love
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/newsflash
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/being-dirty
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/nu-foo
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-cornfield/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/vitamin-j
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/making-white
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/tutoring-master-bates
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-elevator-feeling
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/middle-school-towel-boy
Adult Youth
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/college-credit
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/fairy-moans
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/petty-officer-pervert/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/the-drone
High School
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/the-drive-in-series/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/the-food-court
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/spermaholics-anonymous
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/marty-gets-drunk
Incest
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/my-brother-is-queer
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/alexs-third-eye
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/connor-and-ethan/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/knot-as-it-seems
Camping
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/puppy-love
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/fairy-moans