Saving Ezra - 7. Chapter 7

Over the next week things were progressively less awkward between Joshua and Ezra. The first day was downright painful. Ezra sat tense for most of Monday afternoon. His muscles seemed to tighten whenever he thought of Joshua touching him or, God forbid, hugging him again. The high school senior also tensed when he thought of touching Joshua. He wanted to feel the older man’s skin, stroke his dark blond hair. Then he was filled with shame, sure he was tainting the very air with his sin. He hung his head and quietly completed all the tasks Joshua gave him, avoiding conversation.

Joshua was holding back, as well. He felt responsible for Ezra’s hunched posture and monosyllabic answers. The college student handled the boy with careful hesitance. Joshua kept his voice soft, cursing himself every time Ezra inched away from him.

Tuesday was better, and Wednesday was better than Tuesday. By Friday, Ezra’s shoulder’s had stopped crowding up around his ears and Joshua had mostly stopped walking on eggshells. Joshua was starting to feel better, like he hadn’t completely screwed up with the kid. When Monday rolled around again, Joshua was disappointed that Ezra had seemed to tense up again. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been the week before, at least Ezra was talking to Joshua even if he wouldn’t make eye contact. It was kind of a relief that they were getting out of the little windowless room in the psych building that day.

Ezra felt a little weird pushing the little cart of papers with a squeaky wheel down the sidewalk. Joshua followed with his laptop in his backpack and more papers in a box. It was a few blocks to McIvern Hall, the biology building. Ezra had to keep smacking down papers that wanted to frolic off into the breeze. They finally made it inside, fighting the cart up stairs that Joshua cursed under his breath as being against the disabilities act. His muttering made Ezra snort in amusement, but he looked away when Joshua glanced at him.

The building was old, but rather grandiose on the inside, with thick curling banisters and intricate tiles. The walls were lined with a bulletin boards and glass cases filled with dusty taxidermy animals. Ezra thought some of them were kind of cool, but most he found just plain creepy with their frozen expressions and glass eyes.

They took the tiny elevator up one floor to reach the lecture auditorium. They filed in with a herd of lethargic college students who scattered to sit in worn theater seats while Ezra followed Joshua up to a tiny stage. Ezra stayed with the cart at the bottom of the stage’s stairs while Joshua climbed up to greet the professor. The teen couldn’t hear what Joshua said over the rolling murmurs of the students getting settled, but felt a pang at Joshua’s sparkling eyes and easy grin as he spoke animatedly with the older teacher.

The man patted Joshua’s shoulder and ambled to the podium. He flicked a button that momentarily dimmed the lights before they brightened again. It seemed to be an understood signal as the students hushed after a few moments and stragglers hurried to find a seat.

“We have something a little different to start this afternoon’s lecture.” The silver-haired professor’s voice projected throughout the auditorium, aided by a speaker system and the microphone pinned to his collar. “A former student of mine is working on a research project and asked me for guinea pigs… I immediately thought of you.” There were a few chuckles and a few groans. “He has a short questionnaire for anyone who wants to participate. It shouldn’t take more than 10 minutes. If you wish to participate, this will take the place of the five-point quiz I’d planned for this morning and those points will be freebies.” There were more groans and no chuckles this time. “So, please, raise your hand if you’d prefer the quiz and my T.A. will hand it to you. Otherwise, Joshua and his assistant will hand out the questionnaire.”

The man paused, unsurprised when no hands lifted to ask for a quiz.

“Excellent,” the man said cheekily. “I’m a big believer in the importance of research and think we should all contribute whenever we can. Please, be sure to give thoughtful answers. Joshua will be sure to let me know if there is a problem with people not taking this seriously and giving him shoddy information.”

The man stepped back and Joshua took his place at the podium while Ezra started to wheel around his little cart and pass papers down the rows. Joshua spoke into the podium’s microphone after a moment’s fumbling to find its on switch. He gave some basic directions, asking the students to be honest and ensuring that their answers would be anonymous. He let them know that if they wanted, they could put their email address on the last page and be entered for a gift-card drawing. That seemed to perk up the students a bit. Everyone liked to win free stuff.

The seats all had little tables that could be flipped up to make a very small desk space. Ezra had a passing thought that the higher people went with their education, the smaller the desks seemed to be. He was smirking to himself as he finished handing out the papers and wandered back up to the stage, imagining PhD students trying to take notes over little matchbook-sized tables.

“Wow,” Joshua whispered from where he sat with his legs dangling off the stage. “You have a killer smile, Ezra.”

The teen flushed crimson and stared at the floor. He jumped a little when Joshua gently poked his leg with the toe of his boot.

“Sorry,” the older boy said quietly. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. You just looked really cute with that little grin and it was nice to see you smile. Doesn’t seem like you do it often enough.”

Ezra stood awkwardly, unsure what to do. He kind of thought he should thank Joshua. That had been a really nice compliment, right? He was afraid if he spoke, though, it would come out as an awful croak or he’d say something really dumb. Then too much time had passed and Ezra thought saying anything might be worse than saying nothing. The teen shifted from foot to foot, anxiety crawling up his throat.

He was saved by the students finishing their questionnaires. Ezra scurried off with his squeaky cart to collect the papers passed to the end of each row as Joshua thanked everyone for participating and said goodbye to the professor. Less than ten minutes later they were back in the psychology building in their little windowless room.

Ezra was busy sorting papers and Joshua was even more busy inputting answers into his laptop. The teen started to relax, too distracted by avoiding papercuts and not screwing up Joshua’s work to agonize over whether he was tempting Joshua into sin. It was kind of a relief for the kid, not feeling so wound up.

Joshua smiled as he looked up from his keyboard to see Ezra carefully tearing off the back page of each questionnaire and making careful piles. The boy was cute, with his brow furrowed in concentration and his lower lip between his teeth. When Ezra glanced up, Joshua quickly looked back to his computer.

Tuesday and Wednesday were more relaxed than they’d been the week before, and Joshua was glad. The pair even talked a bit while they worked about trivial subjects and stuff they enjoyed. Things went so smoothly that by the end of Wednesday, they’d nearly finished the work Joshua had thought would take all week to complete.

Joshua was there as usual after school on Thursday. He raised one hand and after a moment Ezra gave the older boy a hesitant high-five.

“What was that for?” Ezra asked.

“Because we’re awesome,” Joshua quipped. “I was able to finish up the work for the week. We’re free men until Monday!” He grinned, the rings in his lower lip flashing silver in the sun, and nodded towards his car. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.”

“Okay.” Ezra followed the tawny-haired college student. “Thanks.”

Joshua chatted happily as he drove the teen. It wasn’t long before they were pulling up in front of Ezra’s house.

“It was no problem driving you,” Joshua said genuinely. “Especially if it means no one hassles you on the way home.” He smirked. “I mean except for me. You can expect regular noogies and wet willies.” Joshua’s eyes widened dramatically. “When you least expect it…”

Ezra snorted and clambered out of the little car. “Thanks. I look forward to the random wedgies.”

Joshua winked and Ezra rolled his eyes as he walked to his front door. The senior fit his key in the lock and jumped when it swung open.

“Hello, Ezra.”

“D-deacon Luke?” Ezra sputtered staggering back a step.

“I didn’t think you’d be home until 5:30… Your dad said you were doing some extra credit work.” Luke stepped into Ezra’s space. “I thought we’d only have half an hour to… talk. This will be great.”

Ezra shuddered, shoulders hunching as Luke threw an arm over the boy’s shoulders.

“Hey, everything okay here?”

Luke’s face turned stormy as he turned to Joshua who’d come up behind them.

“This isn’t your business, kid.” Luke snapped. “Take off.”

Joshua’s chest puffed out and his eyes turned angry. It was strange for Ezra to see. He hadn’t thought Joshua could get mad. Then he realized who Joshua was getting angry with and Ezra started to panic.

“No!” Ezra exclaimed. “No, everything’s fine! This is my dad’s best friend. He’s like… like family.”

Joshua’s anger deflated to concern. “You sure you’re alright? You looked upset.”

Ezra nodded. “It’s fine. He just startled me. I forgot he had a key.”

The college student stepped back slowly. “Okay. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Ezra nodded, forcing a smile and willing Joshua to go away. “’Kay. See you then.”

Joshua returned the nod and started back to the car. Luke was quick to herd Ezra inside and snap the door shut behind him.

“Living room,” Luke growled. “Now.”

Ezra’s breath stuttered as he quickly took off his shoes and hung his hoodie up. He set his backpack down and forced himself to follow his deacon. He found the man sitting in the middle of the couch with his arms stretched out over the back. Ezra stopped a few feet away.

“Who was Mr. Facial-piercings?” Luke asked coldly.

“He’s the college student with the study.” Ezra murmured.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” The older man said as he pointed to the floor in front of him.

“I… I hadn’t noticed.” Ezra’s voice was weak as he knelt between the deacon’s feet.

“Of course not… You wouldn’t be trying to lead him into your faggy ways, are you?” Luke unsnapped the top button of his pants.

“N-no, sir.” Ezra stammered. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“I think maybe you need a little lesson, since we have so much time until your dad gets home.”

“I have…” Ezra swallowed hard. “I have a lot of homework.”

“That’s not the kind of lesson I had in mind.” Luke purred. “Don’t pretend you don’t want it, slutty little homo.”

Ezra bit his lip, shoulders slumping as he heard a zipper pulling down. The teen closed his eyes as he leaned forward.

He opened his mouth, fighting not to flinch when he felt warm flesh touch his lips. Ezra tried not to think about what he was doing, about what was sliding to the back of his throat to challenge his gag reflex. He swallowed hard and tuned out Luke’s groan of pleasure.

Just do it, get it done and it would be over.

Luke grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of Ezra’s head, forcing him to take his length deeper, faster. Ezra fought not to gag and sucked in desperate breaths through his nose in the few moments when the deacon pulled him up enough. Tears squeezed from behind the teen’s clenched lids.

Ezra felt Luke’s cock getting harder and knew the older man was getting even more excited. The boy wasn’t surprised when Luke began pushing his head down more roughly and hissing cruel things as he fucked Ezra’s mouth.

“Damn, such a hot little mouth,” the deacon growled. “And you know you love it, faggot. Don’t even pretend you don’t.” Luke forced himself deep and held himself there, cutting off Ezra’s breath. “This is your fault. I wouldn’t even want this if it weren’t for you and the devil living in your heart.” The man pulled Ezra up, the boy sucking in ragged desperate breaths. “Looking at me with temptation in your eyes, moving your body like Satan’s whore. You make me do this.” Luke began to thrust with every word, his grip in Ezra’s hair painfully tight. “This is your fucking fault, you take what you deserve, cum-sucking whore.”

He snarled the last word, thrusting deep to pump his bitter semen into the back of Ezra’s throat. The teen choked, then swallowed roughly, trying not to drown.

Luke held Ezra still until he’d spilled completely and began to soften in the boy’s mouth. Ezra whimpered when Luke released his grip on Ezra’s hair, letting the teen pull away with a cough. The teen choked back a sob as he sat back on his heels, averting his face from the deacon even though his eyes were still closed. His hazel eyes flew open as a sharp slap hit his cheek.

Luke was looking at him, irritation burning in his eyes.

“Don’t act all prissy now,” he said coldly. “You know you liked that.”

“N-no!” Ezra sputtered weakly. “I didn’t!”

The teen’s eyes widened as a long-fingered hand suddenly wrapped around his throat. Luke’s eyes were narrowed as he yanked Ezra forward, his grip dragging the boy up into his lap. Ezra held tight to the older man’s wrist, trying to keep from choking. When Luke released his hold, Ezra held his throat protectively, gasping for breath. His yelp was raspy as the deacon roughly yanked the front of Ezra’s pants down to his thighs without bothering to unbutton them.

“Please…” Ezra whimpered, knowing better than to try to push the older man away.

“That’s right, beg for it.” Luke grinned wolfishly.

Ezra gritted his teeth and swallowed hard. He fought not to make a noise as Luke grabbed both of Ezra’s wrists in one hand. The deacon spat in his free hand and grasped the teen’s flaccid penis. The boy’s breaths were shaky as Luke began to stroke him. Ezra had a wild thought that he could show the older man that he didn’t like what he did to him. Maybe he was a faggot, but he didn’t want the things Luke did to him. Maybe if Luke saw that Ezra didn’t enjoy it he would stop.

At first it was easy. All Ezra had to do was look at Luke and any arousal he felt disappeared. The deacon didn’t give up though. He spat in his hand again and continued stroking and pulling on Ezra’s cock, occasionally reaching lower to cup and massage his testicles. Ezra whimpered as he felt himself begin to harden against his will.

“Yeah, there we go.” Luke breathed into Ezra’s ear.

Luke’s grip on Ezra’s wrists stayed tight though the teen didn’t fight him, even as the boy clenched his eyes shut and whimpered in shame. Luke’s spit-slicked hand was warm as it worked up and down Ezra’s quickly hardening cock. He whined as the deacon began to sweep his calloused thumb over the head on every upstroke. The teen’s body shivered as unwanted pleasure pooled low in his gut. He disgusted himself.

“See how much you like it, lying faggot?”

Ezra turned his head away, his eyes locking onto the faded pattern in the upholstery of his dad’s chair. He tried to ignore what was happening to him, like it wasn’t really him there at all. He panted as Luke stroked him faster, but Ezra’s eyes were glazed as he kept his gaze averted.

Ezra was able to tune out what was happening until a sharp pain in his balls made him cry out.

“I see I have your attention now,” Luke growled as he released his hold on Ezra’s testicles to go back to stroking the teen’s hard length. “I said, admit that you like it, fag.”

Ezra whimpered, body tensing. He jerked as Luke let go of his penis to roughly reach for his balls again.

“I admit it!” Ezra blurted in terror. “I like it! I like it!”

The teen nearly sobbed in relief as Luke’s hand left his tender sack and returned to stroking Ezra’s shaft. The boy whined as the man jerked him roughly, unable to deny how it ignited a fire at the base of his spine that spread to his crotch to make his cock twitch.

“What else?” Luke’s voice was rough and rasping. “You admit you’re a dirty little homo? A fag? A cum-sucking slut?”

“Y-yes…” Ezra whined.

“Say it!”

Luke spat in his palm once more and stroked Ezra faster, making the boy’s back arch and eyelids flutter.

“I’m a f-fag!” Ezra wailed. “I’m a h-homo! A disgusting c-cocksucker!”

“God, yeah, that’s right.” Luke’s voice was a low rumble in Ezra’s ear. “Are you close? You gonna come for me, bitch?”

Ezra could only whimper and nod.

“Good, and when you come here’s what you say, faggot…” the deacon whispered more words in the teen’s ear.

Luke’s grip on Ezra’s wrists tightened bruisingly tight as his other hand pumped the teen’s stiff cock. The older man didn’t stop until Ezra’s smaller body drew taut, arching in his arms.

“This is my fault!” Ezra shouted as ropes of white shot from his cock. “I’m a dirty fag and this is all my fault!”

The teen’s heart was pounding as he sagged against his deacon. Whimpering and squirming as Luke continued stroking him even after he was spent.

“Please… It hurts…” Ezra begged. “Too sensitive.”

Luke didn’t stop until the boy started crying from the overstimulation.

“God,” the man snapped. “Such a pussy.”

Ezra sniffled and tried to choke back his tears.

“Ugh,” the deacon sneered. “And you made a mess on me and yourself.”

“Sorry.” Ezra said weakly, wishing Luke would let him go. His wrists were really starting to hurt.

“Don’t just apologize.” Luke’s voice made Ezra shiver. “Clean it up.” He waved the spunk-covered hand in front of the boy’s face.

Ezra looked at the older man helplessly, unsure how he was supposed to do it with Luke holding his hands captive. The teen glanced at the tissue box on the coffee table, wondering how he could get to them.

“No.” The deacon pulled the boy’s attention back, “You lick it off, cum-sucker.”

Ezra’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened to protest. The words died in his throat at the hard look in the deacon’s eyes. Instead he clenched his eyes closed and stuck out his tongue.

The teen gagged as he licked and sucked his cooling gelatinous semen off the deacon’s fingers and knuckles. He kept his bile down and kept licking until Luke pulled his hand away and let go of Ezra’s aching wrists. The teen yelped as the bigger man suddenly shoved him off his lap. He landed hard on his hip and curled up in pain.

“Get up,” Luke snapped. “Clean yourself up and start supper.” He glanced at the clock. “Wouldn’t want your dad unhappy when he gets home from work.”

Ezra staggered to stand, using the coffee table to help him. He tugged his pants up, face burning, before scurrying away. Before he made it to his room to change his shirt he had to stop in the bathroom to throw up.

He needed to hurry. He didn’t know if Luke was going to bother him more before he got cleaned up and finished cooking. He rinsed his mouth and splashed some water on his face. There was a little bruising on his cheek and throat, but it was faint, a lot less severe than a lot of marks he’d sported in the past. The bruising around his wrists was more obvious though, the finger marks bright against his fair skin. Luckily his hoody ought to cover things pretty well at school the next day, especially with the hood up. Ezra sighed softly. He was so tired of hiding marks, permanent or transient.

Other than a few comments and unwanted touches, Luke mostly left Ezra alone, giving him time to start supper and get some homework done while it was cooking. Just before six, the teen put his school things in his backpack and double checked dinner. He set the table for three, to be on the safe side in case Luke was staying for supper. Ezra hoped not.

The teen flinched when he heard his dad come in. Ezra heard when Paul greeted Luke but stayed in the kitchen. He told himself he wasn’t hiding. The men chatted amiably for several minutes before wandering into the kitchen.

“Smells good, son.” Paul said with a smile. “What are we having?”

“Um, spaghetti, garlic bread, and corn.” Ezra answered timidly.

“You make enough for Luke to join us?”

“I did, sir.” Ezra nodded, stirring the sauce.

“That’s a good boy.” Paul ruffled his son’s hair. “Love you, bud. I’m going to go get cleaned up and then we can eat.”

“’Kay, Dad.”

Ezra thanked God when Luke followed his dad instead of coming to bother the teen in the kitchen. Ezra pulled the bread out of the oven and the corn out of the microwave. When his dad and Luke returned, three plates of hot food were ready on the table. Ezra couldn’t help a little smile when his dad gave him a nod and a smile. Paul was proud of his son’s behavior in front of his oldest friend. He’d also enjoyed having a few minutes outside of church to visit with Luke. They’d talked about old friends from when they’d worked together at a church therapy camp to help rehabilitate homosexual teens.

Ezra shivered thinking of Camp Hope. His dad had used many of the techniques he’d learned working there on Ezra, and he didn’t have to worry about parental objections with his own son. The teen struggled to keep a smile on his face as he sat down.

They folded their hands, bowed their heads, and Ezra said a simple prayer of thanks to God before they began to eat. Ezra was ravenous, having missed breakfast and lunch at his father’s orders, but knew better than to act gluttonous while he ate. So, though he wanted to stuff his face, he ate a spoonful at a time, chewing completely with his mouth carefully closed, and then swallowing. Ezra never talked with his mouth full, burped, or ate sloppily. That was a good way to earn a smack or get sent to bed without supper.

Paul and Luke chatted while they ate. Ezra just tried not to be noticed, happy to just sit and eat. Unfortunately, Paul decided to include the teen in the conversation.

“So, what were you and Luke up to this afternoon?” Paul asked after wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Did he help you with any of your homework or get some bible study in?”

Ezra stiffened and stared at his father with wide eyes. He was frozen, completely at a loss as to what he should say. What answer was the one he should give?

Luke cleared his throat and frowned. “Yes, well, I’d hoped to wait until after supper, but maybe you’d better tell your father what happened this afternoon, Ezra.”

“Something happened?” Paul’s brow furrowed. “Is everything alright?” He looked to the teen. “Ezra?”

Ezra’s mouth opened and closed but nothing came out of it. Sweat broke out across his forehead, though he felt a chill snaking in his guts.

“Ezra?” His father’s voice was stern now.

The teen looked at his father with wide hazel eyes, still unable to find his voice. What should he say? Not the truth, obviously, but Luke had brought it up. Ezra felt like a rabbit in a snare, the trap tightening around him. His gaze darted from his father to Luke, whose face only reflected concern. What the hell?

Luke sighed heavily. “I can see I’ll have to be the one to explain.” He looked sadly at Ezra. “I’d hoped you’d confess and repent.” The deacon paused, ostensibly to give Ezra one last chance to come clean. When Ezra said nothing, too confused and frightened to speak, Luke continued, his voice grave. “Ezra made… inappropriate advances toward me today. I’m afraid I was forced to get physical with him. He was very… insistent.” Luke looked pained. “I’m sorry, I may have even bruised his wrists trying to restrain him.”

Ezra dropped his silverware with a clatter and shoved his hands under the table.

“Boy.” His father’s voice was so cold it made Ezra shiver. “You’d better show me your arms this minute.”

The teen’s hands were shaking as he extracted them from the shadows under the table. He wasn’t wearing his hoody, he always took it off and hung it at the door, so his arms were bare. Old scars were visible, some shaped like crosses or slashes grouped in threes. They were to remind him of God and the divine trinity, his father had told Ezra while he had cut him. Paul had gone through a period where the blade was his preferred God Therapy to encourage goodness and Godliness in his son. It had backfired, though, when a teacher had caught sight of the wounds and alerted the principal and counselor. They had immediately pulled Ezra and his father in. That had been over a year previously. Ezra had ended up with a diagnosis of depression with self-mutilation tendencies. He spent a week and a half in the psych ward of the local hospital, saying as little as possible and letting them draw their own conclusions. They got him started on an antidepressant whose prescription was never filled after he got out. After that, Paul stopped using a blade in God’s therapy. The scars were all light pink or white. Some stood out on his pale skin more than others.

The bruises around his wrists had bloomed and were visibly red and beginning to purple, though they would no doubt darken much more by the next day.

Paul looked from Ezra’s wrists to his eyes, gaze darkening. “You really are the Devil’s whore, aren’t you?” He shook his head, his mouth a grim line. “I won’t let him have you without a fight. Get up.”

Ezra struggled to stand, dizzy with fear, but he made it to his feet and stepped to his father when he beckoned. He stood facing his dad and Luke, trying not to hunch. Ezra’s father unbuckled his belt and tugged it from its loops with a shushing noise. The teen bit his lip. The action meant something very different when his father did it than when Luke removed his belt. Both were bad in different ways.

“Hold up your shirt and tighten your belly.” Paul ordered. “You’re getting ten.”

Ezra’s hands trembled as he grabbed the hem of his baggy tee and pulled it up to his chest, exposing his stomach. He tightened his abdominal muscles as much as he could, knowing that his father wasn’t messing around. He needed to keep those muscles taut or risk bruised organs.

Paul doubled the belt in his grasp, holding the buckle and the free end to make a thick loop of leather.

“You want to do it, Luke?” Paul asked. “I wouldn’t blame you or hold it against you.”

Ezra stood still as a terrified rabbit as Luke considered it before shaking his head with a frown.

“You know I’m too soft,” the deacon said with a sigh. “I wouldn’t want to hurt him too much. It would end up like I whooped him with a wet noodle and he wouldn’t learn a thing except that I’m a sucker.”

Paul clasped his friend’s shoulder. “There’s no shame in not wanting to hurt a boy. I hate to do it, too.” Ezra’s father’s face fell, then tightened with determination. “But when you’re a parent you do what you have to for the good of your kids.” He let go of his friend’s shoulder and walked back to his son. “Someday, Luke, God willing, you’ll have your own and you’ll understand.”

Ezra’s teeth were clenched, braced for the first blow, but when it came the pain still burned into him like a brand laid against his skin. The second and third strikes made him suck strained air between his teeth. The teen squeezed tearing eyes shut and fought the whines that forced themselves from his throat as the next three hits cracked against his reddening stomach. The last four made him cry out as his arms trembled to keep his shirt up and abdominal muscles tight.

Ezra held position until his father tossed the belt onto the table with a clink of the buckle. The teen dropped shaking arms and swayed where he stood. His gut felt hot with a deep burning ache. Ezra wiped sweat from his upper lip and scrubbed tears from his cheeks as he kept his gaze on the floor.

“Go on.” Paul growled. “No supper for you. Get. I can’t even look at you right now.”

Ezra stumbled from the room. Not making it far before he had to stop and lean against a wall. He felt dizzy and sick, not sure if it was the pain in his stomach or the gut-wrenching anxious fear that was just starting to unwind its stranglehold. He was still close enough to hear Luke and his dad talking.

“I’m so sorry, Paul.” Luke began with a heavy sigh. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything…”

“No,” the teen’s father countered. “I need to know if things like this happen. I hate to say it, but I’m glad it happened with you and not some other poor bugger. At least you can resist him and let me know what’s going on.” There was a long pause. “I don’t even know if he’s doing this to… other men. I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

Ezra heard a soft noise and imagined Luke patting his father comfortingly on the back.

“Maybe it’s time for you to take a trip up to Camp Hope and talk to some of our old mentors.” Luke suggested. “I know they keep up on all the new information and techniques, and I know they’d be glad to see you. You’ve mentioned wanting to head up there before.”

“Yeah… maybe it’s time for a visit.” Paul sounded worn. “Maybe even just getting away for a few days would help me get my head on straight. I have plenty of vacation time saved up.”

“You know I ran into Randy a few days back.” Luke said, seemingly changing the subject.

“Oh yeah? I haven’t seen him in years.” Paul said, sounding less stressed. “He still fighting the good fight?”

“They had to let him go from the camp he was working at. Budget cuts.” Ezra could imagine Luke shaking his head sadly. “With all this ridiculous stuff about gay rights, they just don’t have as many people sending their kids for help.”

“Ah, that’s a shame.”

“He was pretty low on money, so I bought some of his gear.” The deacon commented. “I didn’t figure I’d have any use for it, but I thought it would help him out. It’s just sitting in a couple bins in my attic. He went over it with me. There was something new he showed me, might be something to try with Ezra.”

“Sure. I’d try about anything at this point if it would help my boy.”

“Want me to bring it over Saturday?” the deacon asked.

“Yeah, that’d be fine.” Paul agreed. “Will he be able to go to church Sunday?”

“Oh, yeah.” Luke reassured. “He’ll be fine by then.” There was a pause. “So, when are you thinking about heading up north?”

“Mm, I don’t think I’d like to wait. I worry about Ezra getting worse.” Paul said. “I could go next week for three or four days, but I hate to leave Ezra alone. Lord knows what trouble he’d get up to.”

A short silence stretched before Luke spoke. “I could keep an eye on him for you.”

“I can’t ask that of you, not with how he’s behaved.”

“Let me help. You know I love both of you like family.” The deacon sounded sincere. “And I know I can handle him if he acts up. I’d feel terrible if you found someone else to watch him and he tried something.”

“You sure? This isn’t some little favor you’d be doing for me, Luke.”

“Just let me know when you need me.”

“Thanks.” Ezra’s dad sighed in relief. “So, tell me about this new thing you’ll be bringing over Saturday?”

Ezra couldn’t listen anymore, pushing himself from where the wall held him up, he struggled to his room. He lay on his back on the bed, staring vacantly at the ceiling, fear and pain churning in his guts as helpless tears pricked his eyes.

Raise your hand if you really hate Luke. *raises hand* Writing Luke and Ezra's dad talking almost made my brain explode. Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I love you!