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    Katya Dee
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Only One Road - 8. Chapter 8

Only One Road (chapter 😎

 

The next day was uneventful until it was over. I heard someone calling my name in the parking lot. I turned around. It was Wes Graham, one of Billy’s pets. I gave Dylan the car keys and told him that I’d be right there. He nodded and walked away. I waited for Wes to get closer.

“Hey, Connor,” he said seriously. “Have a minute?”

“What’s up?” I shoved my hands in my pockets.

“Wanna talk to you about something,” he said and nodded towards the bench that was sitting next to the fence. I had no idea what this was about. We never talked much, except the occasional ‘Hey, what’s up?’ exchange, even though Wes was probably the most well-behaved one out of all Billy’s pets. I sat next to him on the bench, and he looked at me through his sunglasses. I had no idea why he would need those. It was pretty dark, considering that it was the end of November, and the sky was scorched with heavy, menacing clouds. I guess he was one of those who believed that sunglasses made them look cool.

“What’s up, Wes?” I asked when he just sat there.

“Wanna hear something funny?” he asked almost cheerfully.

I shrugged.

“Sure… I guess.”

He nodded.

“I went to the bathroom yesterday…”

Uh-oh.

“So you gonna tell me about a great dump that you took?” I snorted at him. I was always good at controlling my facial expressions.

“No,” he grinned. “Someone was screwing in the stall next to me.”

“Uh huh,” I nodded. “So what, you beat off?”

“I was tempted,” he grinned again. “But no. I wanted to find out who it was, you know? I thought that maybe someone dragged his chick into that stall or something… It sounded really hot, you know?”

“Okay,” I looked at him with slight confusion. “You said something about funny…?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “It gets funny, all right… I couldn’t see anything behind those damn walls, and I didn’t want to break down the door or anything like that… So I left and decided to wait and see who comes out.”

Well, crap.

“So I waited,” he continued. “And do you know who came out?”

“No,” I sighed with great boredom. “But something tells me you are about to enlighten me.”

“Mort,” he said with a wide smile. “That fucking obnoxious blond that you hang out with lately.”

“Okay,” I shrugged. “So he was getting some, good for him!”

“Wait,” he laughed softly. “Just wait… I knew that he wasn’t in there alone, I am not that dumb. So I waited some more. You know who else came out?”

Son of a bitch.

“Who?” I sighed again. “The Pope?”

“No,” he said calmly. “Not the Pope. You, Blake. You were screwing Mort’s brains out in there, weren’t you?”

I laughed.

“You were right,” I nodded finally. “It is funny! I just hope that you are not serious. It’s a joke, right?”

He smiled without showing his teeth.

“I always knew that Mort was a fag,” he said as if he didn’t even hear me. “I mean, the way he looks…? Please! But you…” He chuckled and shook his head. “Well, that certainly explains why you would only hang out with him ever since he showed up here… Also explains why you are the only one who can actually talk to that bastard…”

“Wes,” I sighed. “I don’t know what the hell you were smoking yesterday, but whatever it was, you might wanna cut back on that shit. It makes you delusional.”

“Right,” he snorted. “See, I am willing to keep my mouth shut about this whole thing. After all, it’s none of my business whom you are doing…”

“I gotta go,” I shook my head and tried to get up.

He immediately grabbed my wrist and squeezed it so hard that I hissed in pain.

“Sit,” he muttered. “I am not finished. As I was saying, I am willing to keep my mouth shut about the whole thing if…” He looked at me expectantly.

I pulled my wrist out of his grip.

“You want my lunch money?” I gave him a nasty smile.

“No,” he didn’t even flinch. “I couldn’t care less about the money…” He smiled again. “Suck my dick and we are even.”

I stopped rubbing my wrist and stared at him.

“What?!” I managed finally.

He shrugged.

“Always wanted to see if it’s true what they say,” he looked completely relaxed. “If guys actually give better head than girls, you know? So suck me off, and I won’t say anything.”

I let out disbelieving laughter.

“You are one sick fuck,” I said in a low voice. “Stay the hell away from me.”

I almost got up when he said:

“Billy is going to get a kick out of it, you know. He hates fags.”

“Well,” I looked at him. “You should be careful then. I mean, you are the one who just asked me for a blowjob.”

He smiled as if I just told him a hilarious joke.

“He doesn’t mind fucking one,” he said in a low voice. “Your boyfriend is pretty enough, and I am sure, he has a sweet ass…”

Now I lost my cool. I leaned forward and grabbed his collar.

“You stay the fuck away from Dylan,” I said quietly. “Or I’ll make you wish you were never born…”

“I am so scared right now,” he muttered very seriously. “You can hear my bones rattling from fear… See, if you'd just suck me off, we wouldn’t need to have this discussion. Just say when and whe…”

I hit him hard, and it felt so satisfying that my toes tingled. His sunglasses fell off, and I almost laughed when he looked so puzzled that it was beyond comical. Then he hit me back, and I wasn’t laughing anymore. I stumbled to the ground, but before I went down, I managed to grab onto his collar and dragged him with me. I have no idea how long it took people to realize that we were beating crap out of each other, because we were somewhat hidden by the bench, and also because we were strangely quiet while we were exchanging blows. Then finally, someone saw us, and then there were people around us, pulling us apart, someone started screaming for help. I still don’t know why. I mean, yeah, okay, two guys are fighting. Why is it such a big deal? It wasn’t like we were killing each other.

I suppose it looked that way though. When someone finally pulled me off Wes, he looked like he was just hit by a bus. I can hold my own pretty well, and when I am pissed off, I can deal some decent damage. I guess I looked somewhat similar to him, because I could feel blood trickling down my face and neck, and the entire right side of my face felt completely numb.

There was yelling, screeching, a hell of a lot of cursing (mostly from Wes and me), and then both of us were dragged to the principal’s office. I almost laughed when on the way there, Wes spat out a tooth. Neither of us said anything to the principal – we were smarter than that. Finally, the principal announced that we were both suspended for two days, and then he told us to get the hell out of his office.

“You will be sorry,” Wes hissed when we were far enough from anyone to hear him. “You and your blond fuck-buddy…”

“Just try doing anything and I’ll kill you,” I promised to him in a low voice.

He didn’t say anything to that, but I knew that this was just the beginning. Dylan waited for me outside. He was pacing back and forth, cigarette clenched between his teeth. They didn’t get on your ass for smoking eight years ago as they do now, but even then, he’d get into trouble if our principal (who was pretty pissed off by then, thanks to the whole fight thing) caught him.

“Let’s go,” I muttered and grabbed his elbow.

…“What the hell happened?” he asked when I told him to drive.

I carefully touched my right eyebrow and winced. Then I told him what the hell happened.

“Huh,” he said thoughtfully after I finished talking.

“Huh?” I repeated. “That’s all you gonna say?”

He glanced at me and gave me his usual smile.

“For now,” he said. “Wes is an idiot, don’t worry about him.”

“I am not worrying about him,” I sighed. “I am worrying about you. And myself also. Because the minute Billy finds out about the whole thing…”

“We’ll be fine,” he shrugged. “I am tougher than I look.”

“I know that,” I snorted. “But…”

“You get two days off school,” he interrupted me. “Get your sleep while I am not there.”

I laughed and hissed at the same time. Laughed because… Well, it was funny. Hissed because it made my face hurt.

When my mother saw me later that day, she just said:

“You still have all your teeth or do I need to call Dr. Spencer?”

Dr. Spencer was her dentist.

“I have all my teeth,” I sighed.

“Good,” she nodded. “You gonna stay home until the end of the week, I take it?”

“No,” I grumbled. “Two days.”

“Huh,” she looked surprised. “Okay then.”

I sort of expected her to ask what happened, but she never did. I was relieved. I would never tell her that Wes Graham asked me for a blowjob, and threatened to rape Dylan when I said no. I mean, you just don’t tell stuff like that to your mother, you know? Dylan spent that night at my house, after he called Kay and told her that she wouldn’t see him until tomorrow afternoon or maybe later. I guess she was used to that by now, because the only thing he said to her on the phone after announcing that, was, “Uh huh, you too.”

That night, I was astonished at how careful and gentle he was. Not like he was extremely rough before, but that night, he even kissed me differently. He didn’t do his usual quick-frantic-lick thing. He was so slow and thorough that he managed to bring me to the edge by kissing alone. I’ve never seen this side of him. It was like something out of a dream sequence. That was the night when I told him that I loved him. Well, ‘told him’ is not really the right choice of words. I didn’t tell him. I had no intention of telling him. I blurted it out. I had no idea that I was about to say it; and when I heard those words, at first, I thought he was the one who said them. Then I saw his huge eyes and realized that it was me.

There was nothing I could do or say right then, so I just closed my eyes and let myself to be lost in ecstasy. But later, when I came off my post-orgasmic high, I was terrified. I just lay there, my eyes squeezed shut, not a single idea in my head on what to do or what to say, when I felt his hair on my face. Then I felt his breath on my mouth.

“Look at me,” he murmured, and I opened my eyes very slowly.

He looked at me without blinking, his face really close to mine.

“I freaked you out, didn’t I?” I muttered finally, my lips touching his.

“Maybe a little,” he said softly. “But not because of what you said.”

“Why then?” I whispered, and he smiled.

“Because I always thought I’d be the first one to say it,” he said, and now it was my turn to forget how to blink.

That night I finally knew what they meant when they said, ‘I feel complete.’

 

****

 

When I came back to school on Friday, I found out that Wes Graham got into a really bad car wreck on November 30, which was the day after our fight. He died on the scene.

Copyright © 2011 Katya Dee; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Just now, drpaladin said:

Am I wrong to think the accident wasn't accidental?

I'd say it's a 50/50 possibility...

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