Carter's Duty - 16. Chapter 16

It had been a set-up from the start. But exactly who, and how Will had become the targeted victim, eluded him. Wait, he knew exactly how. Brody was ultimately always the culprit. He knew Brody wasn't solely to blame this time; there was an inherent curiosity in all of his friends to see how he would react to the situation he found himself in. Not that he had been completely in a position to do anything to stop it. He was still struggling against fits of giggles as whatever Brody had administered to him worked its way through his system.

He found himself in Porchea's clutches, trapped. The private booth offered him nowhere to run and all he could do was sit and endure the experience. It was as if the combination of drugs, music and the fact that she was stripping in front of him had displaced his mind from his own body. He could still see, but neither act nor speak initially. He was a passenger along for the ride in his own life. For once he had no control over what was happening; he could only sit back and watch through his own eyes as she performed for him.

She had manoeuvred him exactly into that position, luring him away from the table when she had asked to talk to the best man about another surprise for the groom. Will had just assumed she was being sincere, so had followed the half-naked woman back into the booth. His own naïveté and total lack of experience with such things left him oblivious to anything being wrong until it was far too late.

He stared at her now from the chair she had sat him in. She was pretty, he supposed, dressed now in a white lacy lingerie thing and smiling at him like the cat who had finally cornered the canary. He coughed and tried desperately to think of something appropriate to say.

"I'm gay," was the best that he could manage. He was firing on only one cylinder, and that one had blown a gasket along the way.

"I know," she replied as she began to dance for him to the sharp backbeat of the music, running her hands over herself suggestively.

He arched his eyebrow; so much for that plan. He tried again, "You do realize that..."

She ignored him as she slipped out of her bra and straddled his lap, staring deep into his eyes. He looked down at what she was offering then looked back up at her face.

"Wouldn't you rather just talk?" he asked, still trying to will his body to move.

She pushed him back down and began to run her hands over his body again. It was an odd experience for him. It was strange to be making physical contact with someone in that fashion and not feel anything. It was totally non-sexual to him. He tried to think sexual thoughts, but they eluded him.

He laughed nervously, hoping that she wouldn't get offended.

She didn't seem offended as she slid down off of the chair and ran her hands up his inner thigh. He looked down at the mane of blonde hair and shook his head, nothing.

She was giving him her best effort as she slid her hands upwards those last few inches. He tried to understand what Jared, Rafik, Jeff and even Brody saw in her. But one hurdle remained, impassable in his mind. He could see that she was desirable in a strictly male hormone kind of way. But he just wasn't wired that way.

He found his mind wandering, the lights going out upstairs as he checked out of his own body for awhile. He was just going to let the experience carry on and then when it was over he would return. At least it reassured his own sexuality.

Porchea was completely naked now; she mounted him again and ground herself against him, groaning and moaning her desire. But he remained lost in his own reflections.

Had Andrew finally reached the inevitable conclusion of his own test? Had Will succeeded in reinforcing the man's sexual identity? Was their relationship really nothing more than an act, another part of the test to simply vanish when it had run its course? Had Maria won their undeclared war for the one guy that truly meant anything to Will? A guy that she didn't really want, but was determined to have nevertheless?

Will had to accept that possibility. If he had lost Andrew then he needed to deal with that loss, protect himself from the pain as best he could and move on with his life. He couldn't just shut down and let the world slip past him. He was stronger than that. More controlled than that.

He looked at her and shook his head. "You can stop at any time," he said calmly. "I'm not enjoying this; it does nothing for me, I'm sorry."

She smiled at him, a touch disappointed, "I'm sorry..."

Will snorted, "Don't be, there's a reason they call us gay." He stood up and walked out of the booth, not even bothering to straighten or re-button his shirt.

"So?" Brody demanded with a massive grin.

Will shrugged, "I found someone I want to take to the wedding."

Jeff started and stared, his eyebrows knotting in worry, and then he shook to clear his head.

"You're kidding, right? I know you are. Right, Will?" he swallowed. "You're not taking a stripper to my wedding. This is no time to start experimenting. Not that I care if you do, but my family will be there... Hey?" he called as Will turned away and Brody threw an arm around him.

"You're nuts, you know that?" Brody said to Will. "Stop before he has a stroke."

They both looked over at Jeff, who was staring between them and Porchea who was leaning on the bar looking despondent. Brody excused himself to go and comfort her; within a few moments she was laughing and smiling along with him.

"He's kidding, Jeff," Jared said, trying to wipe the grin from his face as he watched Brody work.

"I'm kidding," Will reassured. "Calm down, it's all good."

"You suck," Jeff replied with a grin of his own, sitting back down. "Tuck yourself in, you look like you just got laid."

Will shook his head, "Nah, I'm chilling, it's all good."

They crawled out of there sometime after two in the morning. Stumbling into the Jeep Cherokee, Brody was to drive them all back to Will's place, the safest place to be to sleep off the affects of alcohol and other substances.

"Guys, I kinda have to go," Rafik said as they hit the highway.

"To the bathroom?" Jared asked. "Me, too."

"So do I," Will told them.

"Same here," Jeff said.

"Me, too." Jared repeated.

"Well, I have to go kind of bad," Rafik admitted as he looked around for somewhere to stop.

Now that he had mentioned going, Will didn't know how long he was going to be able to wait.

"You'd better hurry," he told Brody.

"Man! I didn't go the whole night," Jared said. "I can't believe that. And we drank a lot."

"I didn't go the whole night either," Jeff admitted. "Brody, just pull over."

"Where?" Brody asked. "If the cops see us..."

"Who cares," Rafik said, starting to dance in the front seat. "Just stop. If you don't, Jared might want to buy a new jeep."

"No joke," Will told them, feeling like he had to piss right there.

"Shit," Brody muttered, as he pulled over on the shoulder and the guys pushed each other to get off the truck.

"Oh, man! I waited a long time!" Jared yelled.

They barely made it out of sight from the highway and just far enough from each other to be comfortable. But when they finally were able to, it was a relief. A line of five guys watering a highway embankment at two-thirty in the morning.

The pair of pickup trucks suddenly screeching to a halt caused them all to turn; Will swallowed when he caught sight of the Quebec plates.

The eight men spilled out of the truck, one of them pointing to the Ontario plates on Jared's jeep. "C'est Anglais!"

Will felt uneasy; it was late, the new comers were obviously drunk, and the way they continued to gesture...

"Les Anglais taberwet, we don't want you round here!'

Jared walked calmly back to the Jeep. "Let's just go," he said, opening the passenger side door as his friends continued to watch the Frenchmen warily.

The ringleader stepped forward and lashed out with his foot, slamming the jeep door closed on Jared's hand. Immediately the tension grew as the friends realized they were outnumbered and in trouble. Jared cradled his hand as Will stepped up protectively.

Where was Brody?

The shattering of glass got everyone's attention as Brody emerged from behind the Frenchmen, standing beside the front end of their truck, a tire iron in his hand. He hefted it again and shattered the other headlight. "You want to fucking go...Let's go!" he lifted it again ready to swing.

The ringleader shook his head as he grabbed one of his friends, all of them sidestepping around Brody to give him as much room as they could, "Mon dit, you crazy!"

Brody lowered his weapon as they piled into their trucks, turning to look at Jared's bleeding hand, cut when the door had been slammed on him. "We're going to get you to a hospital," he said calmly.