Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1086727.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      21_Jump_Street_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Dennis_Booker/Tom_Hanson
  Additional Tags:
      Rape, Anal_Sex, Anal_Fingering, Masturbation, Child_Abuse, Prostitution,
      Violence, Explicit_Language, Hurt/Comfort, Alternate_Universe
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-12-17 Completed: 2013-12-30 Chapters: 34/34 Words: 65124
****** What Is and What Should Never Be ******
by OpenPage
Summary
     An AU fic where Doug and Tom McQuaid really are teenage brothers.
     Tom McQuaid suffers abuse at the hands of his father. When his
     brother Doug is no longer there to protect him, Tom becomes a teenage
     runaway, living on the streets in an unfamiliar city. Another
     runaway, Dennis Booker, quickly befriends him and together the two
     boys battle to survive on the mean streets of “anywhere USA.”
***** Being a McQuaid *****
Being_a_McQuaid 
It was the sound of Tom’s screaming that woke Doug from a deep sleep.  Falling
from the bed, he ran into the hallway and to the bedroom next door.  Before he
even tried the door handle, he knew that it would be locked.  Fear gripped at
his heart as he began pounding on the door. Why didn’t I stay with him? he
mentally berated himself, as he frantically attempted to beat down the door.
“Don’t... please... please Dad... STOP!” Tom screamed, his voice high pitched
in terror.
Doug began ramming his shoulder into the door.  “Stop hurting him you BASTARD!”
he yelled, “I’ll fucking kill you!”
Ignoring the pain in his body, he continued his onslaught, all the while
knowing it was futile.  The door was solid wood and even though he was large
for a seventeen year old, he did not have the physical strength to break down
the door.  Sobbing in frustration, he collapsed to the floor as he persistently
banged on the wood with his fist.  Tom was now silent; the only sound Doug
could hear was a soft grunting that came from his father.  Within minutes a
loud, satisfied, Fuck yeah could be heard and then silence.
The door that Doug had been sitting against opened so suddenly that he fell
into the room in a heap.  His father laughed mockingly as he kicked out
viciously with his foot, connecting with Doug’s ribs.  “Get him cleaned up and
get to school,” his father growled and stepping over his winded eldest son, he
sauntered downstairs.
Rubbing his chest, Doug scrambled to his feet, his eyes desperately searching
the messy room.  He eventually saw his younger brother naked and crouching in a
corner, his arms wrapped tightly around his bent knees.  A bruise was already
beginning to form around his left eye and blood trickled from his nose.  Tears
stained his beautiful face but Tom remained eerily silent.  Grabbing a sheet
off the bed, Doug moved slowly as he sat down next to his traumatized sibling. 
“Hey Tommy,” he said gently as he wrapped the linen around Tom’s shaking body,
“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”
Thomas McQuaid had been the victim of his father’s sexual abuse since the age
of eleven.  Now fifteen, he was slight in stature, looking much younger than
his years.   He was the image of the boys’ dead mother, pretty and petite;
which was probably why their father did the unspeakable things that he did. 
Neither brother was a physical match against their six-foot parent but that did
not mean that they did not try.  Doug endeavored to protect his brother from
the sexual violence but there were times when he foolishly let his guard down. 
Like the night before.  They had come home late to an empty house and having
wrongfully assumed that they would be safely at school by the time their
drunken father staggered home, they had slept in their own rooms.  Both had
been desperate for a good night’s sleep, having spent the previous two nights
sleeping rough in an attempt to avoid their father’s brutal temper.  They had
only moved to the neighborhood a week before, having lost their previous home
for not paying the rent.  The move had put them into a new school district and
today was to be their first day.  Given the circumstances, Doug wondered
briefly if it would be better to play truant.  But knowing his father’s temper,
he decided again it.  As much as they both hated school, it at least offered
them a safe haven for seven hours of the day.
Helping Tom to his feet, Doug escorted him to the bathroom.  Closing and
locking the door, he sat a silent Tom down onto the closed toilet seat and set
the faucets on the shower to as hot a temperature as was bearable.  “Okay
Tommy,” he said quietly.
When Tom made no effort to move, Doug squatted down next to his brother and
gently lifted his bowed head.  “Hey Tom, you need to take a shower.”
Tom’s eyes stared off into space, as though lost in a dream.  Doug knew the
signs.  Tom’s mind had taken itself elsewhere as a coping mechanism to the
abuse.  With a sigh, he left his brother sitting and undressing, he stepped
into the shower himself.  Emerging ten minutes later, he saw that Tom’s eyes
now appeared fully focused.  Grabbing a towel, Doug wrapped it around his
waist.  “Your turn,” he said tenderly.
Tom stood up and dropping the sheet that had covered his nakedness, he revealed
a body covered in welts and bruises of various shades and sizes.  He walked
into the shower and it was forty-five minutes before he emerged dripping from
the steaming cubical.  Having taken Tom’s place on the closed toilet, Doug
handed him a towel and waited as he dried off.  Giving Tom his toothbrush, he
said, “I’m just gonna check…” before his voice trailed off.  He did not need to
finish the sentence, as Tom knew exactly what he was going to check.  Doug
poked his head cautiously out of the bathroom door, a waft of steam followed
him as he tiptoed down the hallway and stopped outside of the last bedroom
door.  Pressing his ear to the wood, he heard a soft snoring from behind the
closed door.  With a sigh of relief, he hurried back to the bathroom.  “He’s
asleep.  C’mon, we need to dress and get out before he wakes up.”
Both boys moved silently down the hallway and into Tom’s room.  Doug waited as
his brother dressed, the familiar bandanna tied firmly around his wet hair. 
Once finished, they crept to Doug’s bedroom and the elder McQuaid brother
quickly dressed in the cleanest clothes he could find.  Treading softly, they
moved downstairs.  Doug opened the refrigerator, then the pantry and after a
cursory glance in both, he reluctantly concluded that they would have to forgo
breakfast.  Grabbing their school bags, they walked out of the house, softly
closing the door behind them.
                                      **
Sitting in the Principal’s office, both boys felt uncomfortably conspicuous. 
They were well aware that their dirty, worn clothing screamed poverty.  A
target for bullies since Elementary School, when their mother had suddenly
passed away from a brain aneurysm, they had deflected the taunts of their
fellow students by building up tough exteriors.  It did not take long for most
pupils to become terrified of the McQuaid brothers, especially of Doug, who was
fiercely protective of his younger brother.  Known for their street smarts and
formidable fighting abilities, most of their fellow classmates gave them a wide
birth unless they were looking to score drugs or alcohol.  It had been a well-
known fact in their last school that the McQuaids could get you whatever you
wanted, as long as you had the money to buy.  No one wanted to owe either a boy
a dime, as doing so could easily cost you a broken limb.
With a hint of distaste, Principal Elizabeth Hammond glared at the newest
charges to her school.  Both boys sat sullenly staring off into space.  With a
loud, disgruntled sigh, she addressed the younger of the two students, “Thomas
McQuaid, in future I expect you to come to school without visible bruising. 
Fighting is not tolerated in my school, do you understand?”
Doug’s fists clenched in anger as Tom muttered a barely audible, “Yes’m.”
“Speak up!” Principal Hammond instructed impatiently.
“Yes MA’AM!” Tom barked, his eyes blazing with unbridled hatred.
Closing the folder on her desk, Principal Hammond stood up, her demeanor
terse.  “I’ll have no cheek from you, Mister McQuaid.  I run a tight ship at
this school and if I hear any talk about you boys misbehaving, I will expel you
both, no questions asked.  Am I making myself understood?”
Doug stood up and stared at the Principal with unconcealed loathing. 
“Perfectly,” he replied quietly and nudging his brother, both boys walked out.
                                      **
Tom’s last class before lunch was English.  Walking into the classroom, he
found a desk at the rear and opening up his notebook, he began to sketch,
effectively ignoring the teachings of Adam Fuller who was attempting to regale
the class with a reading from J. D. Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye. 
“Among other things, you'll find that you're not the first person who was ever
confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior.  You're by no
means alone on that score, you'll be excited and stimulated to know.  Many,
many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right
now.  Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You'll learn from
them, if you want to.  Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone
will learn something from you.  It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement.  And
it isn't education.  It's history.  It's poetry."
Hearing the words, Tom’s hand stilled.  He lifted his head and stared at the
teacher.  Seeing at least one interested student, Adam checked his class roll
for the name of his newest class member.  “Ah, Thomas McQuaid, I see I have
struck a chord with you.  Would you care to share your thoughts on what Mr.
Antolini is attempting to say to Holden Caulfield.”
Twenty pairs of eyes turned to stare at Tom.  Immediately uncomfortable at
being the center of attention, Tom dropped his gaze, as his hands clenched into
fists.  Adam Fuller walked to the back of the room and standing next to his
newest pupil’s desk he spoke enthusiastically, “I would love to hear what you
have to say Thomas, I value my student’s thoughts and interpretations.  That is
what makes English such a wonderful subject to teach.  All opinions are valid.”
Lifting his head slightly, Tom murmured softly, “It’s not Thomas, it’s Tom.”
Mr. Fuller smiled broadly.  “Pleased to meet you Tom, I’m Adam Fuller.” 
Looking down, he spied Tom’s artwork.  “A budding Rembrandt I see,” he said,
his tone impressed as he studied the emerging portrait of his own face.  “But
this is English Tom and I would appreciate your full attention during class.”
Tom nodded and quickly closed his sketchbook.  He gave the teacher a half smile
that immediately faded when he caught Adam examining his battered face.  He
quickly ducked his head, embarrassed at the scrutiny.  Fuller remained silent
for several more seconds, before walking away and continuing his recitations. 
Tom breathed a grateful sigh and folding his arms on his desk, he rested his
chin and half listened to the class’s lively discussion of Salinger’s novel. 
When the bell sounded, he grabbed his bag, eager to make his escape and catch
up with Doug.  But Fuller called out his name and with a groan, Tom walked over
to the teacher’s desk.
Closing his book, Fuller sat on the edge of his desk and gave Tom a friendly
smile.  “Have you read Catcher in the Rye?”
Tom shook his head.  He did not possess a love of books, as he struggled beyond
a fourth grade reading level.  It was not that he did not want to read, it was
just that it now completely overwhelmed him.  More than anything, he wished he
had the ability to write a story to accompany his drawings.  But his and Doug’s
lives had changed irrevocably when Emma McQuaid had passed away.  Their father
transformed almost overnight from a hard working, charming and caring man to a
violent, drunken tyrant, the loss of his beloved Em seemingly too much to
bear.  Both boys’ education had suffered as a result of their growing neglect
and abuse.  Doug, at only eleven years of age, had taken his younger brother
under his wing.  He would readily throw himself in their father’s line of fire
in an effort to spare Tom a beating.  But when the sexual abuse started, Doug
found it increasingly difficult to deflect their father’s growing obsession
with Tom.  Increasingly, the boys spent fewer nights at home, preferring to
sleep rough in the local park or under the Hamlin Bridge. 
Adam Fuller handed his copy of the book to Tom.  “You’ll need to catch up if
you’re going to do well on the midterm.”  Seeing Tom’s reluctance, Adam spoke
kindly, “Look, I don’t want you to miss out on your lunch so maybe you could
meet me after school for a chat.  Is that okay?”
Tom could not think of a worse scenario.  He preferred to fly under the radar,
not have teachers singling him out for special treatment.  Because of his and
Doug’s disruptive tendencies, most teachers favored assigning the boys grades
they had not earned in preference to having them back in their classroom the
following year.  In essence, their academic inadequacies had slipped through
the system unnoticed.  Now it appeared Mr. Fuller was about to discover just
how illiterate Tom really was.  Of course, he could blow off the meeting but he
could not dodge his English teacher forever.  With a resigned sigh, Tom took
the offending book.  “Sure Mister F, whatever.”
With a frown creasing his brow, Adam Fuller silently watched Tom as he left the
classroom.
                                      **
Sitting alone at an outside table, Doug scowled when he saw Tom.  “Where’ve you
been?” he asked irritably, throwing a wrapped sandwich at this brother.  “I’ve
been waiting ages.”
Catching the package, Tom sat across from his brother.  “English teacher kept
me back, he seems the nosey type.  Where’d you get the food?”
Doug grinned wickedly.  “I dunno, some rich kid over there.  Figured we needed
it more than him.  So tell me about this teacher, is he gonna be a problem?”
Ripping hungrily into his sandwich, Tom grinned back happily, his mouth full of
food.  “Nah, he wants to see me after school for a chat but don’t worry, it’s
under control, I know how to keep my mouth shut.”
Doug stared sadly at his brother.  For most of their lives, they had kept
silent about their home life.  Neither boy wanted to consider the alternatives,
which would be either state care or a foster home.  Terrified of being split up
they endured their father’s wrath so that they could stay together.  It was the
old saying, better the devil you know.  At least they knew what to expect from
their father.
Four boys suddenly surrounded their table, pulling Doug from his reflections. 
“Hey McQuaid,” the largest of the four addressed Tom.  “Nice hat.”
“It’s a fuckin’ bandana you moron,” Tom spat back, tossing his sandwich wrapper
to the ground and wiping his mouth with his sleeve. 
Doug stood up, effectively towering over the tenth graders.  “You got something
to say, you say it to me capeesh?”
The boy stood his ground, spurred on by his mates.  “What?  Little Tommy can’t
fight his own battles?  You don’t scare me McQuaid.  You and your brother are
just poor, white trash and you can’t lay a finger on me, ‘cause the minute you
do, my Dad’ll sue your worthless ass.”
Tom watched on with a bored expression as Doug leaned over the table and poked
the boy in the chest.  “Try it asshole and I’ll break every bone in your
fuckin’ body,” he threatened menacingly.
Doubt washed over the boy’s face and he turned to his friends for support, only
to find uncertainty and fear on each of their faces.  Laughing loudly to
disguise his growing apprehension, the boy clapped one of his friends on the
shoulder.  “C’mon fellas, they ain’t worth it.”  The group hurried away, each
one hoping against hope that no one had witnessed their dismal attempt at a
showdown. 
Tom stood up and reaching down, he picked up his discarded wrapper and threw it
into a nearby trashcan.  “Well, that was bracing,” he said sarcastically as he
wiped his hands on his worn jeans.
Doug did not return Tom’s amused look.  He was tired of always being the
outcast, no matter where they went to school.  Neither boy had friends, their
only companionship was with each other.  Doug loved Tom with all his heart but
he was envious of his peers.  He wanted invitations to parties like other
teenagers his age.   He wanted to hang out at the mall in a group, wolf
whistling at the girls who walked by.   He wanted to play pinball in the arcade
whilst his mates cheered him on.  He knew Tom must feel some of what he felt
but his brother’s personality was more reserved, probably due to the abuse and
he seemed generally happy to have just Doug as his friend.  Shaking his head
slightly, Doug pulled himself together.  It did no good to wish.  Their life
was what it was, end of story.  Wishing for it to be different only caused more
heartache.
A bell signaled the end of lunch.  Walking towards the main building, Doug
grabbed Tom’s arm, holding him back.  Tom stared back quizzically, aware that
something was troubling his older brother.  “What is it?” he asked as noisy
teenagers pushed past them.
“Just be careful of this teacher,” Doug muttered in Tom’s ear.  “We don’t want
the authorities on our case.”
Tom nodded.  As he walked away, he called over his shoulder, “Meet me in the
park after school and get beer.”
Doug raised a hand in acknowledgement and disappeared into the crowd.
 
***** Losing a McQuaid *****
Chapter Notes
     “Just be careful of this teacher,” Doug muttered in Tom’s ear.  “We
     don’t want the authorities on our case.”
     Tom nodded.  As he walked away, he called over his shoulder, “Meet me
     in the park after school and get beer.”
     Doug raised a hand in acknowledgement and disappeared into the crowd.

      
Losing a McQuaid 
Tom managed to remain invisible to his educators for the remainder of the
school day.  His teachers either ignored him or were unaware of his presence. 
As the final bell sounded, he picked up his bag and headed for Fuller's
classroom.  He knocked softly on the door and receiving an invite, he walked
in. 
Adam Fuller rose from his desk and indicated for Tom to take a seat at the
front of the room.  Sitting down, Tom eyed Adam warily as he reached into a
battered briefcase and pulled out what appeared to be a children's book.  Tom's
face immediately reddened and he stood up so violently, his chair crashed to
the ground.  "What the fuck is that?" he yelled, "Do you think I'm some kind of
retard?"
Surprised at the ferocity of Tom's anger, Adam put both hands up, his tone
soothing, "Whoa Tom, calm down.  I'm not here to embarrass you, I'm here to
help you.  Come on son, sit down and let's talk about this."
At the use of the word son, Tom's eyes filled with tears.  Horrified at
displaying emotion to a teacher, Tom quickly pushed the heels of hands against
his eyes to stem the flow.  Shit! Shit! Shit! he thought, Doug's gonna kill
me.  Pulling himself together, he dropped his hands and swiped at his nose with
his shirtsleeve.  Adam Fuller sat on the edge of his desk, patiently waiting
for his young charge to gain his composure.  Tom remained standing.  "You think
I can't read," he stated angrily.
"Can you?" Fuller asked, his tone gentle but persistent.  He had known Tom less
than an hour but in that short space of time he felt compelled to help the boy
in whatever way possible.  He suspected parental abuse, the blackened eye and
dirty clothes were a telltale sign.  He had questioned some of the teachers in
the teacher's lounge but most were either disinterested or having only seen Tom
during one lesson, were unwilling to pass judgment.  He had also approached the
Principal but she refused to divulge any information in either Tom or Doug's
file.  Frustrated and feeling ill equipped to deal with such a delicate matter,
he had made an appointment to talk to the school counselor.  Unfortunately,
that appointment was not until the following day.  Sensing the need to act
quickly, he had made the decision to speak to Tom anyway.  Now it appeared that
his decision might have been the wrong one. 
Tom's eyes glared back defiantly.  "Sure I can."
"Then prove it," Fuller replied softly as he handed the children's book to Tom.
For a moment, Tom refused to take the book, but with a dutiful sigh, he
snatched the paperback out of his teacher's hand.   Sitting down, he opened the
pages and slowly began to read, his voice trembling slightly as he stumbled
over the unfamiliar words, "Wh-where's Papa go… going with that a… a… ax? said
Fern to her moth… moth… mother as they w-were set.. setting the ta…ta…table for
br—"
Adam laid a hand on Tom's arm, effectively cutting him off.  Tom instinctively
flinched away from the contact.  Bowing his head with shame he mumbled, "You're
right, I am a retard."
Fuller sat down at the desk next to Tom.  "Being illiterate has nothing to do
with intelligence Tom," he replied, his tone gentle and kind.  "All it means is
that you've been left behind.  I have no doubt that with extra lessons you will
soon be up to speed with your classmates."
Tom looked up shyly, his brown eyes peering through his long, unruly bangs. 
"Do you really think I could read good if I took extra lessons?" he asked
disbelievingly.
Fuller smiled, "Read well and yes, I really do.  Would you like me to organize
it for you?" 
When Tom smiled back, his whole demeanor changed.  No longer the sullen,
streetwise bully he became a fresh faced fifteen year old.  "Yeah, cool."
"Okay then," Fuller replied, pleased that Tom had accepted his offer.  "We
start tomorrow after school."
Tom nodded his agreement and left the classroom.  For the first time since he
could remember, he felt truly happy.
                                      **
Sitting cross-legged on a wooden picnic table, Tom waited patiently for Doug to
meet him at the park. As the sun slowly began to disappear beneath the horizon,
the air became unseasonably chilly. Climbing off the table, he began to
anxiously pace up and down, each passing minute causing him to feel more
concern for his missing brother. Not being of legal age to buy beer or having
the required funds to do so, Tom knew that Doug was going to steal it. As night
fell, panic squeezed at his chest. When a light drizzling rain began to fall,
he climbed up the ladder to the top of the enclosed play tower. The drizzle
soon turned into a drenching downpour and he huddled alone, his body shaking
from the cold. As the hours passed, Tom desperately hoped that Doug was
sheltering from the rain and not sitting in a police cell having been caught
shoplifting. A tear silently trickled down his flawless skin as he brooded over
how shit his life was. Closing his eyes, he allowed his imagination to take
hold and he fantasized about how different his life would be had his mother
remained alive. He pictured home cooked meals, where the four of them would sit
around the dining table and talk about their day. He visualized his mother’s
calm, peaceful face watching over him with pride as he did his homework. A sob
caught in his throat and he broke down completely, allowing the tears to freely
course down his cheeks as self-pity over whelmed him. Weariness slowly
enveloped his aching body and using his school bag as a pillow, he drifted into
an uneasy sleep.
                                      **
A cacophony of bird sounds pulled Tom from a light slumber.  Yawning loudly, he
sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.  The rain from the previous night
was a distant memory as the rising sun shone brightly from the east.  His
stomach growled from hunger and picking up his bag, he forced his cramped legs
to descend the play tower ladder.  After washing his face and hands in the
fountain, he drank thirstily, allowing the water to fill the dull ache in his
belly.  He paused for a moment, deliberating on what would be the best course
of action.  If he went home there was a possibility his father would be there
and that was something Tom did not feel able to deal with alone.  Going to
school was really his only option. 
With a sigh, he threw his bag over his shoulder and left the park.  He arrived
at Riverdale High too early to start classes.  He sat in the outdoor lunch area
until students started drifting through from the car park.  As the bell rang,
he made his way through the thickening crowd, acutely aware of the finger
pointing and comments regarding his disheveled appearance.  As he stood at his
locker, he heard a woman behind him clear her throat.  Turning around, he saw
Principal Hammond, her face pinched into a look of firm disapproval.  "My
office Mister McQuaid," she instructed, through clenched teeth.
Perfect, Tom thought as he slammed his locker closed.  Bowing his head, he
followed the head teacher down the teeming hallway and into her office.  He
stopped abruptly when he saw his father sitting on a chair, his stubbled face
as black as thunder. 
"Take a seat Thomas," Elizabeth Hammond barked, her tone officious.  Shaking
uncontrollably, Tom sat on the chair next to Aaron McQuaid.  His body shrank
into itself and he immediately appeared smaller and more vulnerable than
previously.  He could hear his father's heavy breathing next to him but he kept
his eyes downcast, too afraid to meet his father's enraged glare.
"So," Principal Hammond declared in a shrill voice, "It appears your brother
Douglas was arrested last night for larceny.  As I told you yesterday Thomas, I
will not stand for any type of unruly behavior from a student at this school. 
Your father is here to take you home, you are expelled from Riverdale High
School effective immediately."
Standing, Aaron McQuaid reached over and shook the Principal's hand.  "Thank
you for your hospitality this morning, I apologize on behalf of my sons."
Taken in by Aaron's good looks and false charm, Principal Hammond blushed like
an over hormonal schoolgirl.  "I'm sorry that I have to be so harsh on your
children Mr. McQuaid but rules are rules.  I suspect both boys would benefit
from a little discipline."
Placing a large, callused hand on the back of Tom's slim neck, Aaron lifted him
to his feet.  "Believe me Ms. Hammond, I was thinking exactly the same thing." 
With his hand still firmly placed, Aaron McQuaid roughly pushed his youngest
son ahead of him as he exited the room. 
As they left the school grounds, Tom found the courage to speak, "Where's
Doug?" he asked quietly, not wanting to irritate his father further by
demanding answers in a loud tone. 
"Exactly where he should be," his father retorted smugly, "Juvenile detention."
Tom inhaled loudly, as panic surged through his body.  "For how long?" he dared
to ask, expecting a clip around the ear at any moment for his insolence.
Tom's father smiled evilly.  "Six months.  So from now on Tommy, it's just you
and me.  There's no more Doug to protect you so you'd better do as I say,
understand?"
Choking back a sob, Tom nodded as tears filled his brown eyes.  There was not a
thing he could do, he was now completely alone and at the mercy of a monster.
 
***** Aftermath *****
Chapter Notes
     WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS INCEST AND THE RAPE AND BEATING OF A
     TEENAGER.  ALTHOUGH NOT OVERLY GRAPHIC, IT MAY BE UPSETTING TO SOME
     READERS.
     Previously: As they left the school grounds, Tom found the courage to
     speak, “Where’s Doug?” he asked quietly, not wanting to irritate his
     father further by demanding answers in a loud tone. 
     “Exactly where he should be,” his father retorted smugly, “Juvenile
     detention.”
     Tom inhaled loudly, as panic surged through his body.  “For how
     long?” he dared to ask, expecting a clip around the ear at any moment
     for his insolence.
     Tom’s father smiled evilly.  “Six months.  So from now on Tommy, it’s
     just you and me.  There’s no more Doug to protect you so you’d better
     do as I say, understand?”
     Choking back a sob, Tom nodded as tears filled his brown eyes.  There
     was not a thing he could do, he was now completely alone and at the
     mercy of a monster.
Aftermath 
Upon entering the house, Aaron McQuaid shoved his son roughly towards the
stairs.  “Get up there,” he snarled, “and stay in your room.”
Dragging his feet, Tom slowly climbed the threadbare steps.  The despair he
felt was all consuming, what hope did he have now?  He briefly considered
saying something to his English teacher but he quickly pushed the thought
away.  If the school notified the authorities, Tom knew that a placement into
care would be inevitable and when Doug’s sentence was up, they would have no
chance of being together.  He just had to find a way to stick it out for the
six months his brother was in custody. 
Sighing heavily, he threw his school bag onto the floor.  The book Mr. Fuller
had given him fell out and Tom felt more tears prick against his eyes.  Bending
down, he picked up the worn tome and opened it to a random page.  The words
swam in front of him as his grief intensified.  His new teacher had been so
kind and understanding, traits that were unfamiliar to Tom.  He gently trailed
his fingers over the page as if to gain strength from the words he could not
read.  His body stiffened as he heard the familiar creaking of the stairs
behind him.  His father was coming.
When Aaron walked into the bedroom and saw Tom holding a book, he snorted
loudly.  “What the hell are you doing with a book boy?  You’re too damn stupid
to read.”  His tone was derisive, causing Tom to let the book slip from his
fingers and onto the floor.
“There’s gonna be some new rules in this house now that your meddling brother
is out of the way,” McQuaid senior sneered, as he slowly and deliberately,
pulled his belt free from the loops on his jeans.  “Now, lesson number one. 
You will do what I say when I say, is that clear?”
Tom nodded, his wide eyes never leaving the belt which his father now held in
his hand.
The next word out of his father’s mouth was a single command.  “Strip.”
Shaking uncontrollably, Tom pulled the bandanna from his head.  He slowly
removed his torn denim waistcoat and his shirt.  He hesitated for a moment
before pulling his t-shirt over his head, revealing half-healed welts and
bruising on his back.  He stood with his eyes closed, holding his breath and
praying that a beating was all he would receive. 
“Everything,” his father instructed, his voice heavy with arousal.
“Dad, please,” Tom begged, his eyes pleading with his father.  “I’ll be good, I
promise, just don’t do that, okay?  I’ll take the beating, just don’t–“
Tom felt a resounding sting on his cheek as his father backhanded him across
the face.  “Lesson number two, do… not… EVER! talk back to me.” Aaron spat, his
face twisted in anger.
Choking back a sob, Tom kicked off his boots, all the while feeling his
father’s hot gaze upon him.  Pulling off his socks, he slowly unbuttoned his
jeans and pulling down the zipper, he let the fabric fall to the floor. 
Stepping out of his denims, he felt vulnerable dressed only in his boxers.  He
saw his father lick his lips and he felt bile rise in his throat.  As his
father’s eyes narrowed in warning, Tom hooked his thumbs into the waistband of
his boxers and pulled them off.
“Turn around,” Aaron ordered, the belt in his hand twitching in anticipation.
Tom did as he was told.  Turning his back to his father, he clenched his fists
as he waited for the excruciating pain of the belt cutting through his tender
skin.
THWACK!  The belt bit deep into his back, opening up an old wound.  As it hit
for a second time, Tom felt a warm trickle of blood run down his back as he
began to bleed.  The third strike made him cry out, the pain almost too much to
bear. 
Tom’s suffering only managed to fuel Aaron’s sadistic pleasure.  As the
whipping intensified, he yelled abuse at his youngest son, “YOU THINK YOU CAN
DEFY ME?”  THWACK!  “YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A…”  THWACK!   “WORTHLESS…”  THWACK! 
“PIECE OF…” THWACK!  “SHIT!”  THWACK!
Tom’s vision swam and he staggered on his feet.  His father’s voice sounded
distant, the words barely audible.  Sweat beaded on his forehead as his knees
buckled and he collapsed to the floor in a faint.  As he slowly regained
consciousness, he felt a heaviness pushing against his body.  As realization
hit, he began to panic and he frantically struggled against the rape his father
was committing. 
“Stop it,” his father growled, as he thrust deep into his resisting son, his
fingers tangled cruelly in Tom’s hair, “I’m… almost… done… FUUCK!”  As his
orgasm hit Aaron’s body shuddered against Tom’s.  Spent, he collapsed heavily
onto his son, enjoying the aftermath of his release.  After several minutes, he
stood up and pulling up his trousers, he walked to the door.  Turning back, he
stared dispassionately at his broken and bloody son who lay motionless on the
floor.  “Get cleaned up, you look like shit,” he muttered before leaving the
room.
Moaning in pain, Tom crawled across the room and pulled himself onto the bed. 
Despite the discomfort, he drew his legs up to his chest and curled
protectively into the fetal position as tears silently coursed down his
cheeks.  He wanted Doug’s comfort more than anything in the world, he had never
had to suffer alone before and it was soul destroying knowing that for the next
six months, this was how it was to be.  As his tears slowly subsided, he wiped
his nose with the back of his hand and sat up.  Blood and semen had stained his
sheets, making him feel sick.  He carefully stood up, using the nightstand as
support.  Wrapping the ruined sheet around him, he shuffled from his room and
down the hallway to the bathroom.  Locking the door, he slowly moved to the
full-length mirror and studied his injuries.  His right cheek was bright red
from his father’s hand.  Turning around, he peered over his shoulder.  Large,
red, bleeding welts covered his back and buttocks, several of the cuts so deep
that small strips of skin hung from the wounds.  Once again vomit rose in his
throat but he quickly swallowed in down.  Hobbling over to the shower, he
turned the hot faucet on full and added just a small amount of cold to the
mix.  Shrugging off the bloodied sheet, he stepped into the steaming shower,
crying out as the heat hit his damaged skin.  Placing his palms against the
tiled wall, he bowed his head and allowed the scalding water to run over his
aching body.  His mind shut off completely as the therapeutic water cleansed
his wounds and washed away his humiliation.  Weariness flooded through his body
and he wanted nothing more than to go to sleep and never wake up.  For a
fraction of a second, his mind turned to suicide.  But as quickly as it came,
the thought was gone.  He could never do that to Doug.
Turning off the faucets, he exited the cubical.  Carefully dabbing at his body,
the towel came away bloody.  With a sigh, he dried off as best he could and
wrapping the bed sheet around him, he walked back to his bedroom.  Sitting on
the bed, he looked at the clock.  It was a little after midday.  As if suddenly
acknowledging the fact, his stomach growled with hunger.  His last meal had
been the sandwich Doug had swiped the day before.  Moving carefully, he dressed
in t-shirt and jeans.  Leaving his room, he tiptoed to the edge of the stairs. 
Pausing, he could hear the television and his father’s occasional laugh as he
watched some lowbrow comedy.  Treading carefully to avoid any squeaky
floorboards, he stole silently into his father’s bedroom.  His eyes darted back
and forth until they finally settled on what he was looking for.  Picking up
Aaron’s wallet, he opened it and took out every dollar inside.  He would get a
beating for sure but he would probably get one anyway so in Tom’s mind it was
worth it.  Putting the empty wallet back on the nightstand he walked back to
his room and closed the door.  His plan had been to climb out of the window and
walk into town to get something to eat.  But as he stared at the bills in his
hand, another thought formed in his mind.  He had enough money for a bus
ticket.
As adrenaline ran through his body, his pain magically faded.  Moving quickly,
he grabbed a bag and began throwing clothes and various necessities into the
shabby holdall.  Sneaking back to the bathroom, he took his toothbrush,
toothpaste and a comb from the cabinet.  Re-entering his room, he picked up a
photo frame containing a photo of he and Doug and threw it into his bag. 
Casting his eye around to see if he could spy anything he needed, his gaze
landed on Catcher in the Rye and reaching forward, he picked up the battered
book.  Smiling, he placed it on top of the frame and closed the bag’s zipper. 
Desperate to get going, he hurriedly put on his shirt, denim waistcoat, socks
and boots.  Lastly, he tied his signature bandanna around his head.  Picking up
his bag, he walked over to his open window.  Checking that no one was watching,
he dropped the bag onto the ground.  It hit with a thud and he held his breath
as his ears strained to hear any noise from downstairs.  After several minutes,
he climbed onto the window ledge and leaning forward he took hold of a large
branch that hung close to his bedroom.  With a grunt, he hoisted himself onto
the broad bough.  Being lithe was an advantage and he made light work of
scrambling down the gnarled elm.  Snatching his bag, his head snapped left and
right and certain that he had not been seen, he sprinted down the road and
towards what he hoped would be his freedom.
***** Lessons *****
Chapter Notes
     Please remember that this story is set in the 1980s (as per 21 Jump
     Street).  I have attempted to be as accurate as I can with regards to
     prices but as I am not American it is really more of an educated
     guess :)
     WARNING: THIS CHAPTERS TOUCHES ON TEENAGE PROSTITUTION, SOME SCENES
     ARE GRAPHIC IN NATURE.
      
     Previously: As adrenaline ran through his body, his pain magically
     faded.  Moving quickly, he grabbed a bag and began throwing clothes
     and various necessities into the shabby holdall.  Sneaking back to
     the bathroom, he took his toothbrush, toothpaste and a comb from the
     cabinet.  Re-entering his room, he cast his eye around to see if he
     could spy anything he needed.  His gaze landed on Catcher in the Rye
     and reaching forward, he picked up the battered book.  Smiling, he
     placed it in his bag and closed the zip. 
     Desperate to get going, he hurriedly put on his shirt, denim
     waistcoat, socks and boots.  Lastly, he tied his signature bandana
     around his head.  Picking up his bag, he walked over to his open
     window.  Checking that no one was watching, he dropped the bag onto
     the ground.  It hit with a thud and he held his breath as his ears
     strained to hear any noise from downstairs.  After several minutes,
     he climbed onto the window ledge and leaning forward he took hold of
     a large branch that hung close to his bedroom.  With a grunt, he
     hoisted himself onto the broad bough.  Being lithe was an advantage
     and he made light work of scrambling down the gnarled elm.  Snatching
     his bag, his head snapped left and right and certain that he had not
     been seen, he sprinted down the road and to what he hoped would be
     his freedom.
Lessons 
Sitting on a Greyhound bus, Tom rested his head against the window and
mindlessly watched as the scenery changed from built up housing to green
country fields and back again.  After purchasing his ticket, he had enough
money left over to buy a sandwich and a can of coke from the station kiosk. 
Predictably, the sandwich had been dry but he wolfed it down anyway, his
stomach appreciating the meager offering.  Now, five hours later, he was hungry
again.  With a heavy sigh, he pulled his watch out of his pocket.  The strap
had broken years before but he had kept the working timepiece.  It had been his
grandfather’s; his mother’s father; and for that reason the sentimental value
made it priceless.  Checking the hands, he saw that it was almost six o’clock. 
He figured he had another half hour or so until he reached his stop. 
Geographical knowledge had not factored into his choice of cities.   The only
basis in choosing where his final destination would be was that it was the
furthest distance he could travel on the money he had.    Every mile traveled
meant he was a mile further away from his abusive father.
He was suddenly aware that night had fallen.  The architecture outside the bus
was also changing.  Suburban homes gave way to tall buildings and harsh neon
lights flashed on and off, advertising bars and other business.  As the traffic
became heavier, the bus slowed down, its air brakes sounding constantly as it
maneuvered through the busy streets.  Within minutes, it pulled into a rundown
station, graffiti coloring the dirty brick walls.  Pulling into an empty bay,
the bus driver turned off the engine.  Standing up the elderly driver braced
his hands against his aching back and carefully stretched out his spine.  “End
of the road folks, have a good evening.”
Nerves took hold of Tom and with shaky hands he clutched his bag to his chest. 
As he descended the steps of the bus the driver called out, “Have you got
someone to meet you lad?” 
Tom nodded, hoping his face did not give away the truth.  Hurrying through the
dilapidated terminus, he soon found himself standing on a busy street corner.  
He gazed around him in wonder, the flashing lights and car horns jangling his
nerves.   Now that he was here, he had no idea what he was going to do.  His
stomach rumbled, again reminding him that he was hungry.  He had eighty-eight
cents in his pocket, which was possibly enough for a burger, but he had nowhere
to sleep.  Closing his eyes, he felt the prick of tears behind his eyelids. 
Angrily swiping them away with the back of his hand, he looked around him in an
effort to gain his bearings.   
A car slowly pulled up next to the curb and a man leaned across and wound down
the passenger window.  “How much?” he asked, looking Tom up and down.
Tom stared back blankly, not understanding the meaning of the man’s words. 
“Huh?” he asked naïvely, as he approached the black Cadillac.
“Are you on the game?” the man asked impatiently, “If so, how much?”
Comprehension slowly dawned on Tom.  The man thought he was a prostitute. 
About to give the pervert a mouthful, he suddenly stopped.  This could be the
answer to his money problems.  It was not that he wanted to do it but necessity
was the mother of invention, or so the saying went.  After all, it was not as
if he were a virgin, his father had taken that way from him over four years
ago.  Bending down, Tom peered into the car.  The man was middle aged, his suit
looked high quality and he drove a fancy car.  He obviously was not short of
money.  Smiling sweetly, Tom answered, “Depends, whatcha want?”
The man returned the smile.  “How about a blowjob?”
Tom almost sighed with relief.  A blowjob, as disgusting as it was, meant
sparing his battered body from further rough treatment.  He was well skilled in
oral sex, his father having instructed him from a young age.  Having no idea
what to charge he picked a random figure out of his head. “Twenty bucks.”
The man narrowed his eyes.  “A little pricey, don’t you think?”
Tom shrugged, pretending not to care one way or the other.  The man’s eyes
traveled down and then back up Tom’s slim, lithe body, finally settling on his
young face.   He was truly stunned at how beautiful Tom was and he knew
straight away that he would pay far more than twenty dollars to have the boy’s
pouting lips wrapped around his throbbing cock.  Grabbing the passenger door
handle, he pushed open the door.  “Get in,” he instructed.
Tom did not allow himself time to think.  Climbing into the car, he threw his
bag onto the floor.  His heart hammered in his chest and he nervously chewed on
his lower lip.  He had no idea how to proceed.  Sensing Tom’s uncertainty, the
man laid a hand on his knee and gave it a squeeze. “I’m Joseph, what’s your
name?”
“Tom,” Tom replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Let’s go somewhere more private Tom,” Joseph said, his voice dripping with
fake kindness.
Tom gave an almost unperceivable nod.  The man checked in his rear vision
mirror and flicking his indicator, he slowly pulled into the Friday night
traffic.  Hunching down into his seat, Tom stared out of the window as he tried
to calm his growing anxiety.  He desperately attempted to memorize his
surroundings but the city was too big and every corner looked the same.  He
suddenly became aware that the car had turned off into a dimly lit alleyway. 
Switching off the engine, Joseph smiled.  “Let’s get out, it’ll be less
cramped.”
Getting out of the car, Tom followed the man as they walked for several moments
until two large dumpsters hid them from the view of the road.  Joseph pulled
out a crisp twenty-dollar bill and handed it to Tom.  Tom immediately stuffed
it in his pocket, his hands shaking uncontrollably.  Reaching out, the man
touched his face.  “You really are a pretty little thing aren’t you,” he
murmured as his hand traveled down the length of Tom’s torso, stopping when he
reached his stomach.  Leaning forward he whispered, “I’ll pay you more if you
let me touch you.”
Tom’s breath hitched in his throat and he became paralyzed with fear.  Taking
his non-response as affirmation, Joseph’s fingers stroked at Tom’s crotch
through his jeans.  Tom silently willed his body not to react but he was a
fifteen year old boy with raging hormones and his body quickly betrayed him as
his cock began to swell.  The man chuckled as he felt Tom’s arousal growing
beneath his probing fingers.  “You like that huh?” he muttered quietly, “I knew
the moment I saw you that you were nothing more than a little whore.”
Tom screwed his eyes closed as degradation burned his face.  The man laughed
aloud at Tom’s discomfort.  Releasing Tom’s erection, the man unzipped his own
trousers, letting them drop to his ankles, his boxers following soon after. 
Opening his eyes, Tom saw Joseph looking at him expectantly.  “On your knees
whore, and show me what you can do,” the man growled, the kindness in his voice
now absent.
The fowl stench of the alleyway assaulted Tom’s senses and he felt his stomach
churn.  Dropping to his knees, the uneven ground dug painfully into his flesh. 
He felt the man stroking his hair as he inched forward, his lips just
millimeters from the man’s erect cock.  Swallowing deeply, he opened his mouth
as his lips enveloped the engorged cockhead.  Joseph immediately grabbed a
handful of Tom’s hair, painfully ripping at the roots.  Holding Tom’s head
still, he rammed his cock deep into Tom’s throat.  Tom’s eyes flew open as he
began to choke.  But the man held him tightly as he thrust backwards and
forwards, his cock violently fucking Tom’s mouth.  It did not take many moments
for Joseph to reach his climax and he cried out his pleasure as his hot semen
hit the back of Tom’s throat. 
The disgusting act now thankfully over, Tom tried to pull away but the man held
him firmly in place until his spasming body shuddered to a halt.  He shoved Tom
roughly to the ground as he pulled up his boxers and jeans.  When he turned
away, Tom cried out, his eyes brimming with tears.  “Where’s my extra money?”
Joseph laughed cruelly, “Here’s a lesson for you kid, always get the money
before you do the deed,” and leaving the sobbing teenager sitting on the
ground, he got into his car, threw out Tom's bag and drove away.
 
***** Invisible Children *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: The disgusting act now thankfully over, Tom tried to pull
     away but the man held him firmly in place until his spasming body
     shuddered to a halt.  He shoved Tom roughly to the ground as he
     pulled up his boxers and jeans.  When he turned away, Tom cried out,
     his eyes brimming with tears.  “Where’s my extra money?”
     Joseph laughed cruelly, “Here’s a lesson for you kid, always get the
     money before you do the deed,” and leaving the sobbing teenager
     sitting on the ground, he got into his car and drove away.
Invisible_Children 
Dennis Booker leaned against the cold brick building as he panhandled for loose
change.  At sixteen, he was a hardened, streetwise runaway. He had left his
abusive home life at the tender age of thirteen, preferring the harsh life of
the streets to the constant beatings and abuse he received from his mother’s
many boyfriends.  In his short life, he had seen and experienced far more than
most would ever want to.  Known as Booker within the local runaway community,
he was fiercely protective of the younger, more vulnerable children of the
streets.  More often than not, he would put himself in unnecessary danger by
selling his own body and giving the money to another teen, rather than see them
risk their own lives.   Many a runaway turned up dead, beaten to death by an
overzealous john.  It was the reason Booker tried to discourage prostitution
among those he considered his responsibility.  But the need to survive always
overrode the need to protect one’s body and all of the teens on the street
resorted to prostitution at one time or another. 
Pushing back his dark unruly hair, he lit a cigarette that he had managed to
bum off a client and casually observed the stream of people hurrying by.  His
trained eye immediately spotted Tom as he scurried past.  Booker knew the look;
Tom had a dazed almost catatonic expression as he clutched a bag possessively
to his chest.   Throwing down his butt, Dennis began to follow a few feet
behind, deftly weaving in and out of the Friday night crowd in an attempt to
keep his target in sight.  He observed Tom enter a busy Burger King, so he hung
back and waited.
Managing to find a table, Tom sat down and within moments, he had devoured his
meal.  Licking his lips, he picked up his bag and walked out.  It was now late
in the evening and he was desperate to find a place to sleep.  He was used to
sleeping rough but not in a bustling metropolis.  His eyes scanned back and
forth, as he searched for a suitable place to bed down for the night.  Spying a
narrow alleyway, he cautiously entered.  Walking slowly down the uneven
footpath, he heard footsteps behind him.  As his heart began to pound, he wound
the strap of his holdall around his arm and holding on tightly he quickly spun
around.   With a wild yell, he hit the figure behind him with the full force of
his bag. 
Booker fell to the ground, emitting a loud oomph as he hit the pavement.  Tom
stood over Dennis’ prone body, his bag raised above his head in readiness of an
attack.  Sitting up carefully, Dennis smiled as he held his hands up in mock
surrender.  “Whoa, I’m not gonna hurt you,” he cajoled, “I just wanted to make
sure you’re okay.”
Slowly lowering his arms, Tom stared back suspiciously.  “What do you care?” he
asked, his voice sounding shakier than he would have liked.
Keeping his hands out in front of him, Booker rose to his feet.  He quickly
took in Tom’s dirty, disheveled appearance and the bruised eye that was still a
vivid shade of red.  Using a soothing tone, he attempted to connect with the
frightened runaway, “I’m a runaway, the same as you but I’ve been around a lot
longer.  If you stick with me and mine, I’ll keep you safe.  There’s a group of
us who hang out on the corner of forty-second and ninth.”
Distrust still shone out of Tom’s eyes but he was tired and close to tears from
the emotion of the day. Feeling defeated and alone, his shoulders sagged and a
strangled sob escaped his throat.  Dropping his bag, he covered his face with
his hands, unable to stem the flow of tears.  He felt strong arms pull him into
an embrace and at first, he fought against it.  But Dennis’ arms remained tight
around his body and he sank into the comfort, allowing his imagination to
pretend that it was Doug’s arms hugging him.  As his anguish slowly subsided,
Booker released his hold and stepped back.  Embarrassed, Tom kept his head down
as he wiped at his face with his palms.  When he felt a gentle hand on his
shoulder, he looked up and gave a shy smile.
Dennis’ heart ached at the site of the pretty teenager standing in front of
him.   He slowly returned the smile as he squeezed Tom’s shoulder.  “Hey, it’s
okay to cry.  Crying means you still feel something and that’s good, right?”
Tom nodded, too weary to argue.  But he was not sure he wanted to feel anything
anymore.  Feeling was just too damn painful.
Booker dropped his hand and offered it to Tom, “Dennis Booker, but most people
just call me Booker.”
“Tom McQuaid,” Tom replied as he shook Dennis’ hand.
“Can I call you Tommy?” Booker asked, thinking that it suited the slightly
built boy better.
Tears once again filled Tom’s eyes but this time he managed to keep them under
control.  “My brother calls me that,” he whispered, as memories of Doug flooded
his mind.
Booker immediately became wary.  The last thing he wanted to do was cause the
boy standing in front of him any more heartache by dragging up thoughts of
loved ones.  “That’s fine, I’ll just call you Tom,” he answered quietly.
Sighing deeply, Tom shook his head.  “No, I like Tommy, you can call me that if
you want.”
“That’s settled then,” Dennis replied cheerfully.  “C’mon Tommy, I’ll introduce
you to the others and then we can find a place to sleep.”
Picking up his bag, Tom followed his new friend out of the darkened alleyway
and back into the bright lights of the city.
                                      **
Booker hung onto Tom’s arm as he wound his way around the inner city streets. 
He stopped occasionally to chat to other teen runaways who clustered in groups
around various corners of the city.  It took only ten minutes to find Booker’s
group who were sitting in the doorway of the National Finance Institution. 
Several shopping bags were scattered around them, which Tom guessed held their
belongings.  Placing his arm around Tom’s shoulders, Dennis’ began the
introductions, “This is Tommy, he’ll be staying with us for awhile.”
Several hands waved in welcome as Booker continued, “That’s Erin, that’s Dave,
the tough looking guy is Harry and this beautiful jewel…” he stepped forward
and took the hand of a seventeen year old girl, “…is Judy.”
Tom gave an awkward smile as he studied his new acquaintances.  Erin was blond
and petite, with braces on her teeth.  Tom guessed her age at about thirteen. 
Dave appeared younger, his expression was timid and he wore a pair of broken
glasses, which someone had taped together at the bridge.  Harry was about
seventeen and of Asian descent.  He had muscular arms and looked as though he
could hold his own in a fight.  Harry stared at Tom suspiciously for a few
moments then smiled a brilliant smile.  Tom immediately relaxed and smiled back
as he began to feel accepted.  Lastly, he turned his attention to the pretty
African-American girl.  Her hair was short and she wore long, dangly earrings. 
Tom saw Booker whisper something in her ear and he wondered if they were
boyfriend and girlfriend.  He stood back shyly as the others debated where the
best place to sleep for the night would be.  Each put a hand in their pocket
and pulled out what little money they had.  Tom immediately added his but they
still did not have enough for three hotel rooms.  Fearing an inundation of
runaways in their establishments, the managers of the local hotels refused to
allow more than two to a room.  As Erin yawned sleepily, Booker sat down beside
her and draping an arm around her shoulder, he pulled her head against his
chest. 
“Erin and Judy get the room, the rest of us will sleep rough,” Booker decided
as he handed several notes to Judy.  “Go to the Exeter, it’s the safest, we’ll
meet you there tomorrow.”
Judy tugged at Erin’s hand and the young girl groaned, annoyed at the
separation from her beloved Dennis.  Grabbing up their bags, the boys watched
on as the two girls ran across the busy road and disappeared into a building on
the other side.  When they saw Judy stand in the doorway and wave, they knew
she had safely secured a room.  Standing up, Booker clapped a hand on Tom’s
shoulder.  “C’mon, let’s go find a place to sleep.”
Taking their bags, the group wandered down the street.  Tom noticed that there
were less people about.  He walked silently beside Booker as Harry and Dave
brought up the rear.  It was several minutes before Dennis spoke, “So, what’s
your story Tommy?  I’m guessing from the black eye and bruising around your
wrist that someone at home has been using you as a punching bag.  Am I right?”
Tom felt a familiar knot form in his stomach.  He had long ago been programmed
not to speak about the abuse he suffered at the hands of his father.  When he
did not answer, Booker decided not to press.  Some runaways were happy to open
up to others who had suffered similar fates.  However, many more found the
shame and humiliation too difficult to discuss.  Studying Tom’s face, Booker
knew by the look in Tom’s eye that he was also a victim of sexual abuse.  The
haunted, almost disturbed expression was a direct give away.  Dennis only had
to catch his own reflection in the mirror to see the same look staring back at
him. 
His immediate concern though, was how pretty Tom was.  He would be highly sort
after in the world of teenage prostitution.  Booker had no idea how long Tom
had been in the city and he hoped that some middle-aged pervert had not already
preyed upon him.  He wanted desperately to save Tom from that experience if he
could.
Booker stopped outside a boarded up building.  Telling the others to stay where
they were, he disappeared down the adjacent side alley.  Several minutes later,
he returned wearing a big smile.  “Looks like we’ve got the place to ourselves,
c’mon.”
As Tom followed his new friends into the abandoned building, he felt a huge
sense of relief wash over his body.  He was so tired and finally he had a safe
place to lay his head.  Stopping in a backroom, Booker threw down his bag,
signaling that this would be where they would spend the night.  The room looked
as though it used to be an office.  There were remnants scattered around
indicating that other homeless people had been using the building as a refuge. 
Dennis pulled a couple of candle stubs out of his bag and lit them with a
plastic lighter.  The flickering light cast eerie shadows across the graffiti
splattered walls.  Harry immediately set to and cleared a space on the floor
for Dave, who could barely keep his eyes open.  Wrapping the younger boy in his
jacket, Harry lay down next to him and pulling him into a protective embrace,
they closed their eyes and fell asleep.
Picking up the candles, Booker indicated for Tom to follow him to the other
side of the room.   Both boys sat cross-legged on the linoleum floor.  Tom
wrapped his arms around his body, shivering slightly.  Dennis immediately
shrugged out of his leather jacket and handed it to him.  Tom shook his head in
embarrassment.  He had packed in such a hurry he had not even thought about
bringing warm clothing.  Dennis laid the jacket over Tom’s knees.  “Take it,”
he said quietly, “I’m not cold.”
Tom smiled gratefully and put the jacket on.  It was too big, but he instantly
felt warmer.  “Thanks,” he replied.
Booker remained silent for a moment before speaking, “How old are you Tommy? 
Thirteen?”
Anger flashed across Tom’s face.  “I’m fifteen!” he replied indignantly. 
“Sorry,” Dennis replied, a smile playing on his lips, “But you look thirteen.”
Tom scowled.  He hated the fact that he was so small.  It appeared each brother
was the opposite of the other, as Doug was big for his age. 
Dennis studied Tom’s face for a moment.  “When did you arrive in the city?”
A small pout formed on Tom’s lips.  “I thought you got the hint that I don’t
play twenty questions.  But if you must know, I got here today.”
Booker exhaled heavily.  He wanted to have the talk with Tom about not getting
on the game but he was beginning to get the feeling that Tom would not listen. 
Sensing that Dennis had something to say, Tom decided to get it over with so he
could finally get some sleep.  “What?” he asked moodily.
Dennis shifted his position so he was sitting next to Tom.  Draping an arm
around him, he spoke in a quiet voice, “It’s just, I’m sorry Tommy but you’re
very pretty and—"
When Tom angrily started to protest, Booker ignored him and carried on,
“Whether you like it or not, you are and that makes you a target for all the
pedophiles out there.  They like boys who are pretty and petite like a girl but
still have a dick.  I don’t want you to get caught up in that.  I know you
don’t want to talk about your home life but I know what you’ve been through
‘cause I’ve been through the same.  But the abuse can stop now Tommy,
understand?  You don’t have to let men take advantage of you anymore.”
Tom let Booker’s words sink in before he replied, “So how do we get money?” he
asked quietly.
Dennis frowned.  “You let me worry about that,” he replied.
Slowly shaking his head, Tom’s face was resolute.  “Uh-uh, no way.  I’m not
gonna have it on my conscience if something happens to you that it was ‘cause I
was too chicken to do it myself.  I’m fifteen, I’m not a little kid like Dave
or Erin.  I don’t need to be protected from the big bad world ‘cause I’ve been
living in it for most of my life.  And if what you say is true, I can get more
money for the group ‘cause of the way I look,” Tom argued in a raised voice. 
When Booker did not reply, he added quietly, “It’s not like I’ve never done it
before.”
Seeing Tom’s determined look, Dennis sighed.  “Okay, but we work as a team
‘cause I know who’s safe and who’s not, agreed?”
“Agreed,” Tom replied, yawning loudly.  Booker leaned over and carefully blew
out the candles, plunging the room into darkness.  Both boys lay down and Tom
found comfort in knowing that Dennis was only inches away from him.  Rolling
onto his stomach and resting his head on his arm, he fell into an uneasy sleep.
***** The Harsh Light of Day *****
Chapter Notes
     WARNING: THE FOLLOWING CHAPTERS CONTAIN SEX SCENES BETWEEN AN ADULT
     AND A TEENAGER. NO FURTHER WARNINGS WILL BE GIVEN
      
     Previously: Slowly shaking his head, Tom’s face was resolute.  “Uh-
     uh, no way.  I’m not gonna have it on my conscience if something
     happens to you that it was ‘cause I was too chicken to do it myself. 
     I’m fifteen, I’m not a little kid like Dave or Erin.  I don’t need to
     be protected from the big bad world ‘cause I’ve been living in it for
     most of my life.  And if what you say is true, I can get more money
     for the group ‘cause of the way I look,” Tom argued, his voice
     raised.  When Booker did not reply, Tom added quietly, “It’s not like
     I’ve never done it before.” Seeing Tom’s determined look, Dennis
     sighed.  “Okay, but we work as a team ‘cause I know who’s safe and
     who’s not, agreed?” “Agreed,” Tom replied, yawning loudly.  Booker
     leaned over and carefully blew out the candles, plunging the room
     into darkness.  Both boys lay down and Tom found comfort in knowing
     that Dennis was only inches away from him.  Rolling onto his stomach
     and resting his head on his arm, he fell into an uneasy sleep.

The_Harsh_Light_of_Day 
Waking early the following morning, Tom groaned from the discomfort of a full
bladder.  Sitting up, he looked around to see if anyone else was awake.  Harry
and Dave lay sleeping on the opposite corner of the room, their bodies still
curled tightly together.  Booker however, was nowhere in sight.
Standing up and stretching out his aching limbs, Tom wondered where he could go
to the toilet.  He usually slept outdoors in a park, so ducking behind a tree
was the usual protocol.  Feeling anxious, he hurried from the room and almost
collided with Booker who was entering through the doorway.  Seeing Tom’s
fraught expression, Dennis laughed loudly, “We use the alley out back, but hold
your breath, it stinks.”
Tom scurried from the room, his situation now desperate.  Running out into the
cool morning air, he sprinted down the darkened alley and stopped behind an
overflowing dumpster.  Unzipping his jeans, he sighed heavily as he relieved
himself against the wall.  Zipping up, he walked back down the alley.  Ahead,
he could see that the early morning traffic was light, the hour still too early
for most people.  Shivering slightly, he walked back into the building just as
a light drizzle began to fall.  When he entered the back room, he saw only
Harry and Dave, both still fast asleep.  Hearing a sound in a room off to the
right, he headed down the corridor. 
“In here,” Booker called out when he heard the approaching footsteps.  Tom
entered a large room and saw Dennis sitting on the floor, the two candle stubs
next to him, their short wicks flickering weakly. 
Tom took off Booker’s jacket and handed it back to him before sitting down on
the floor.   Pulling up his legs, he wrapped his arms around them, as he rested
his chin on his knees.  “What?” he asked when he saw the older teenager’s dark
eyes studying his face. 
“Tell me about your brother,” Dennis said, his voice gentle.  “I’d like to hear
about him.”
Tom stared back at Booker, uneasy about where the conversation may be heading. 
Instead of answering, he threw a question back at Dennis, “How long have you
been on the streets?”
Unlike Tom, Booker had no problem answering questions.  “Just over three
years.  When my Dad left us, my Mom kinda went a little crazy.  You know,
reliving her youth and all that.  She kept bringing different guys home, then
after a week, she’d ask them to move in.  Trouble was, it wasn’t her they were
interested in… if you get my drift.”
Tom nodded, knowing exactly what Dennis meant.  Booker was very good looking,
his body well toned for a teenager and his dark, unruly hair gave him the bad
boy look that most teens would kill to possess.  But it was Booker’s eyes that
fascinated Tom the most.  They were the darkest eyes that Tom had ever seen,
almost bordering on being black.  However, they also shimmered with deep
compassion, which instantly contradicted the bad boy persona. 
Raking his hand through his hair, Booker smiled mischievously.  “So, now that
I’ve told you something, how ‘bout you tell me about your brother.”
Realizing that resistance was futile, Tom spoke candidly about Doug.  He
explained how after their mother had died, Doug did his best to protect Tom
from any beatings his father thought were deserved.  He skipped quickly over
the sexual exploitation, preferring to use the same premise as Booker and just
allude to the abuse.  Lastly, he recounted Doug’s arrest and incarceration.  He
confided to Booker that he knew he could not endure his father’s abuse without
the support of his sibling.
When Tom had finished, both boys sat silently for several minutes.  Finally,
Booker reached out and cupped Tom’s face in his callused hand.  “Thanks for
sharing Tommy,” he murmured, as Tom’s face flushed pink. “It means a lot.”
Muttering a quick “No worries” Tom pulled away from Dennis’ touch.  He was
unaccustomed to displays of affection.  Doug was the most caring person he knew
but his demonstrations were often clumsy, as was usually the case with
brothers. 
Seeing Tom’s reddened face, Booker could not help but smile.  He quickly ducked
his head so Tom would not notice.  But Dennis’ smile soon faded.  He knew that
the longer Tom stayed around, the harder it would be not to fall for the
attractive, vulnerable teenager and that, he decided, would be a very bad idea.
                                      **
Rain pelted down onto the footpath as passing vehicles splashed up sprays of
water from the overflowing gutters.  The four boys huddled in the doorway of
The Exeter Hotel waiting for Judy and Erin to arrive.  When they finally
appeared, all six ran across the road and under the canopy of a nearby grocer. 
Pulling out their money, they surveyed their dwindling finances.  Seeing his
friends despondent faces, Booker sung out cheerfully, “Who wants breakfast?”
Dave’s normally subdued expression turned into one of happiness.  “Donuts!” he
yelled excitedly.
Booker ruffled the younger boy’s hair.  “I think oatmeal would be more
nutritious.  How ‘bout we go to Joey’s, it’s always good there.”
Everyone nodded his or her agreement except Tom, who had no idea who or what
Joey’s was.  Erin took hold of Dave’s hand and they ran ahead of the group,
energized at the thought of eating.  Judy and Harry followed close behind,
their shoulders hunched against the rain as they kept an eye on their younger
friends.  As Booker and Tom lagged behind, the rain soaking through their
clothing, Tom had a feeling something was bothering Dennis.  As they stopped at
a pedestrian crossing, Tom pulled on Booker’s sleeve.  “Spill,” he said,
hopeful that whatever it was, it was not too serious.
As the green “walk” signal flashed, both boys crossed.  It was not until they
reached the other side and continued down the street that Booker opened up. 
“Breakfast is pretty much gonna wipe us out.  I don’t know about you, but I
could use a decent night’s sleep, which means three hotel rooms.  Even if we go
to the roach infested Camelot, we still don’t have enough money, which means…”
Dennis’ voice trailed off.  He had been a teen prostitute for over three years
and yet he still found it difficult to say the actual words.
“Oh,” Tom replied, as a wave of nausea washed over his body.  Pushing it aside,
he laid a hand on Booker’s arm, pulling him up short.  “It’s okay,” he said,
his voice surprisingly steady.  “I’ll do it.”
It was Booker’s turn to show emotion.  Tears glistened in his eyes as he shook
his head.  “As a team, remember?” he stated, “I know who’s who, I can keep us
safe.”
Tom smiled a half smile.  “As a team,” he agreed.
Arriving at Joey’s they found the others inside, already sitting at a table. 
The owner (whose name was actually Louie) welcomed the shabby runaways.  He had
a soft spot for Booker’s group.  Unlike most, they were always polite and never
tried to skip out without paying.  He deliberately increased their portion
sizes so that the children received a filling breakfast.  He wished he could do
more, but with a sick mother and eight children to take care of, he barely
managed to make ends meet.  It was tough, but he did what he could without
leaving himself too short.
Dave and Erin’s eyes lit up as the huge bowls of steaming oatmeal arrived. 
They blew on their heaped spoons, desperate to take a mouthful but burning
their tongues every time they tried.  Tom smiled in amusement.  It was the
first time he had seen either of the two behave in a childish manner.  At such
young ages, their faces carried the careworn expressions of people four times
their age.  It was nice to see them behaving like young teens.  Tom wondered if
that was how he appeared to other people.  Did his face show the ravages his
body had endured?  He hoped not, he did not want strangers to know his dirty
secret.
When the two youngest teens went to the restroom, Booker told Harry and Judy
that he and Tom were going to hit the streets.  Both immediately protested, but
Booker remained firm.  He needed both older teens to take care of Erin and
Dave.  They should find a place to shelter for the day and he and Tom would
meet them back on the steps of The National Finance Institution building at
about one o’clock.
Before Dave and Erin returned, Booker paid the bill and left the restaurant
with Tom.  Tom could feel his hands clenching into fists as his breathing
became labored.  He tried to appear calm on the outside, but on the inside, he
was falling apart.  As much as he wanted to help Booker, who was the only
person in the world besides Doug to have shown him kindest in his darkest hour,
he did not know if he could go through with it.  As they stopped on a street
corner, Tom began to feel faint.  Staggering backwards, he bumped into well-
dressed woman carrying a large umbrella.  “Watch it!” she cried out, her face
showing the disdain she felt at having touched someone so filthy.
“Sorry,” Tom mumbled as he closed his eyes and reached out to steady himself
against a light pole.  He felt Booker’s arm around his waist, giving him
support.
“Hey Tommy, are you okay?” Dennis asked, his voice concerned.
Taking a deep breath, Tom pulled himself together.  He managed a weak smile. 
“Yeah, just went a bit dizzy for a sec, I’m fine.”
Turning Tom to face him, Booker placed his hands lightly on his new friend’s
hips and stared intensely into his soft, brown eyes.  “You don’t have to do
this,” he said.
“Yeah I do,” Tom replied miserably, his face etched with sadness.  “If you
hadn’t found me I’d be doing it anyway.  Now at least when I do it I know the
money can help others, you know, like you’ve helped me.”
For the second time Dennis’ eyes filled with tears.  He quickly swiped them
away as a brown Datsun pulled up to the curb.  Booker approached the car and
had a conversation with the occupant.  After a few minutes, he walked back to
Tom and draped a comforting arm around his shoulder.  “He’s a regular, pretty
standard, he just wants to fuck you and make you come.  He’s okay, as far as
they go, you know, he’s not violent or anything and he’ll drive you back. 
He’ll try and kiss you on the mouth, but if you tell him no, he’ll stop.  He’s
willing to pay seventy bucks but it’s up to you, if you don’t want—”
“I’ll do it,” Tom interrupted quickly.  As he climbed into the passenger seat
Booker called out, “I’ll meet you back here in a couple of hours okay?”
Nodding, Tom closed the door.  He turned to face his client and was surprised
to see that the man was only in his thirties.  “Wow!” Robbie Werner exclaimed
when he saw Tom’s face.  “You’re gorgeous.”
Tom did not answer.  Instead, he put on his seat belt and held out his hand. 
“Money.”
Robbie laughed as he pulled out into the busy street traffic.  “You really are
new aren’t you?  I’ll give it to you when we get to the hotel.”
Glad that the man did not want to make small talk, Tom turned away and watched
as the rain pelted down outside.  Within minutes they were at their
destination, a reasonable looking hotel with a flashing vacancy sign.  Running
out of the rain and into the foyer, Tom removed his wet bandanna and shoved it
in his pocket as Robbie paid for a room.  As they climbed the staircase to the
second floor, Tom’s heart rate began to increase.   The man unlocked the room
and opening the door he let Tom pass through first.  It was a basic room with a
double bed, two bedside tables, a lamp and a one-door wardrobe.  A print of
Monet’s Garden hung on the wall above the bed. 
“So,” the man said as he took off his jacket and eyed Tom up and down.  “How
about we get you out of those wet clothes.”
Tom held out his hand again.  “Money first.”
The man pulled several notes out of his trouser pocket and handed them to Tom. 
After counting the money, Tom shoved it into his jeans pocket.  “Okay?” Robbie
asked and Tom nodded.
Reaching out, Robbie removed Tom’s denim waistcoat and threw it on the chair. 
Next, he slowly unbuttoned Tom’s shirt and peeling the wet fabric from his
body, he threw it next to the waistcoat.  Taking the bottom of Tom’s t-shirt in
his fingers, he pulled it up over the teenager’s head.  His arousal became more
evident as his breathing intensified.  “Take off your boots,” he instructed, as
he trailed a finger up and down Tom’s taut stomach.  Tom kicked off his boots
and reaching down, he removed his socks.  “Good,” Robbie breathed as he
unbuttoned Tom’s jeans.  Tom closed his eyes and bit down onto his lower lip to
keep from crying.  The man pulled down the zipper and let the jeans fall around
Tom’s ankles.  Tom immediately stepped out of the damp denim and kicked them
away with his foot.  The man gently cupped Tom’s cock through the thin fabric
of his boxers.  “Mmm, very nice,” he murmured as Tom’s face flushed with
humiliation.  With his eyes still closed, Tom could hear the man begin to
undress and his dread increased.  When he opened his eyes, he saw the man
standing in front of him, wearing nothing but a very large erection.  Tom’s
eyes widened at the sight, he had never seen such a big cock and he felt panic
rise in his throat.  Robbie smiled widely, “Impressive huh?  But don’t worry
beautiful, I’ll be gentle.”  Taking Tom’s hand, the man led him to the bed and
instructed him to lie down.  He then climbed between Tom’s bent knees.  Hooking
his fingers into the waistband of Tom’s boxers, he slowly removed them and
threw them on the floor.  Tom had not noticed that the man had removed a tube
of lubrication and several condoms from his jacket pocket and had laid them out
on the bed.  Leaning forward, Robbie attempted to kiss Tom on the lips but the
teenager quickly turned his head away.
“No kissing,” Tom said hurriedly, remembering what Booker had told him.
The man pouted but obliged.  Instead, he bent down and sucked at Tom’s nipple. 
Embarrassment flooded through Tom’s body as Robbie sucked and caressed at the
little raised nubs.  Kneeling back, Robbie unwrapped a condom and rolled it
expertly onto his erection.  Next, he picked up the tube of lube and squeezed
it onto his fingers.  Tom watched as he slicked up his large cock with the
sticky substance.  When the man’s fingers touched his opening, Tom visibly
recoiled.  “Shh,” the man soothed, “I’m just going to use my fingers first and
get you ready.”
Tom screwed his eyes shut as the man inserted first one finger and after moving
it past the muscle, a second.  Using a scissoring action, he gently opened Tom
up.  When Tom felt the man’s fingers being removed his heart started pounding
in his chest.  He felt the tip of the man’s cock pushing against him as it
slowly entered his body.  Once inside, the man stopped.  “Look at me,” he
instructed and Tom slowly opened his eyes.  Robbie’s breathing became shallow
as he stared into Tom’s dark orbs.  “I want you to come, you hear me?” he
whispered as he began to stroke Tom’s semi erect cock. 
Tom nodded and closing his eyes, he felt the man begin to move inside him.  The
sex was far less violent than with his father and as the man stroked and tugged
at his growing erection, he felt his arousal intensifying.  As the man watched
Tom’s cock swell, his thrusting became more intense.  Slamming his cock deep
into Tom’s body, he saw the boy’s eyes suddenly fly open.  With a startled cry,
Tom ejaculated over the man’s fingers and onto his own stomach.  It only took
another two thrusts for Robbie to scream out, as his own orgasm hit.
As the man withdrew, Tom threw an arm over his eyes and began to sob.  Having
never encountered such a reaction before, Robbie was unsure what to do.  When
he attempted to comfort Tom the teenager rolled away and pulling his knees up
to his chest, he curled himself into a ball and sobbed silently into the
pillow.
Robbie rose from the bed and cleaned himself up before getting dressed.  When
he was again fully clothed, he sat on the bed next to Tom and laid a hand on
his naked shoulder.  “Come on, let’s get you dressed and back to your friend.”
Tom sat up slowly and angrily rubbed the tears from his face.  Robbie handed
him his clothing and he dressed quickly, not wanting to stay in the hotel room
any longer.  He pulled the wet bandanna out of his pocket and tied it back
around his head.  He did not know why but somehow, the bandanna gave him
confidence. 
As they left the hotel and drove back to Booker, Tom knew his life would never
be the same.  He had felt something when the man had slammed his cock deep into
his body and that feeling had brought about an orgasm.  He was as much of a
pervert as the johns, he thought miserably.
Hunching down into his seat he allowed the hopelessness of his situation to
shroud his mind completely.   As the minutes ticked past, he felt himself
slowly falling into a black pit of despair.
 
***** Blood *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: As they left the hotel and drove back to Booker, Tom knew
     his life would never be the same.  He had felt something when the man
     had slammed his cock deep into his body and that feeling had brought
     about an orgasm.  He was as much of a pervert as the johns, he
     thought miserably.
     Hunching down into his seat he allowed the hopelessness of his
     situation to shroud his mind completely.   As the minutes ticked
     past, he felt himself slowly falling into a black pit of despair.
Blood 
Climbing out of Robbie Werner’s car, Tom anxiously searched the crowded
footpath for Booker.  Pulling out his watch, he calculated that he had been
gone for about an hour.  He knew it was too early to panic, Dennis had said
that they would meet back in a couple of hours and depending on what he was
being paid to do, it could even take a little longer.  Leaning against the wall
of a women’s boutique, Tom closed his eyes and tried to block out the memory of
his latest sexual encounter.  He felt sick to his stomach that he had enjoyed
having a man fucking him up the ass.  He had enjoyed it so much that he had
climaxed, something that had never happened when his Dad raped him. It went
against everything he believed in.  He felt dirty and perverted and his eyes
burned as they filled with tears of confusion. 
A quiet cough brought him back to reality.  Opening his eyes, he swiftly wiped
away his tears.  A middle-aged man stood next to him, his face full of
concern.  “Are you all right?” he asked kindly.
Not wanting to engage in conversation, Tom nodded his affirmation and quickly
turned away.  The man leaned in close and clearing his throat, he whispered
hoarsely, “How about a hand job?”
Tom’s stomach lurched and his depression rapidly deepened.   That was all
people saw when they looked at him; he was just a beautiful face who could give
sexual pleasure.  He was nothing more than a dirty little whore who walked the
streets, waiting to be exploited.  He felt that he was rapidly losing his
identity.  Soon, Thomas James McQuaid would no longer exist.  He would become
just Tommy, the pretty, teenage prostitute that men fucked in exchange for
money. 
The man coughed impatiently and Tom pulled himself out of his self-
deprecation.  He had to accept that this was now his life.  He was certain he
did not deserve it but it was the hand he had ultimately been dealt and he
needed to learn to make the best of it.   With a sigh, he made his decision. 
If he went with the man, it would be more money in his pocket and with any
luck, by the time he had finished, Booker would be waiting for him. 
“Okay,” he muttered wearily, “Where do you wanna go?”
“I know a place,” the man replied, taking hold of Tom’s arm and pulling him
through the crowded streets.  “It’s not far.”
After several minutes of winding through back alleys and narrow walkways, the
man shoved Tom into an abandoned building.  Looking around him, Tom began to
feel uneasy.  Something isn’t right, he thought and just as he was about to
run, a fist slammed into the side of his head.
“FILTHY WHORE!” the man screamed, as Tom fell to the ground in a crumpled
heap.  “You think you can tempt men into sinning against God?  WHORE!  You will
never know forgiveness!” A steel-capped boot connected with Tom’s ribs and the
teenager cried out in pain.  As the assault continued, Tom covered his head
with his arms in an attempt to protect himself.  He curled his body into a ball
as boots and fists connected with his flesh and bones.  A sharp pain in his
stomach had him screaming in agony and he desperately tried to roll away.  But
the onslaught continued for several more minutes until the man was too
exhausted to go on.  With a final vicious kick to Tom’s head, he walked away,
leaving Tom unconscious and laying in a pool of his own blood, a knife sticking
out of his stomach.
                                      **
Booker had managed to secure two jobs in two hours.  The first was oral sex for
twenty dollars.  The second was a regular who went all the way.  His regular
had dropped him off just after one o’clock.  Booker now had six crisp twenty-
dollar bills in his pocket, payment for being, as his client like to put it, a
good boy. 
Standing in the rain Dennis’ dark eyes darted back and forth searching for any
signs of Tom.  He glanced at his wristwatch and his anxiety increased.  He had
been so careful to send Tom off with a man that he trusted.  He had been
pleasuring Robbie Werner for more than two years and had never found him to be
anything but considerate and kind; well, as considerate and kind as a man who
paid teenage boys for sex could be.
Pushing his dripping hair back from his face, Booker walked into the fancy
boutique where he and Tom had agreed to meet.  An elegantly dressed woman came
hurrying over, her face showing alarm.  “You can’t be in here,” she whispered
as she attempted to usher him out of the door without actually making physical
contact.  “This is a reputable place of business.”
Ignoring the insult, Booker attempted to flash a winning smile.  “Don’t worry,
I’ll leave.  I just need to know if you’ve seen my friend.”
The woman appeared perplexed.  “Why would I have seen your friend” she asked,
“You're nothing but a…” her voice trailed off, too polite to say the words that
had popped into her mind.
Remaining calm, Dennis tried to appeal to her humanity.  “Look, he’s new to the
city and new to… well, you know.  A man picked him up and that was hours ago. 
I really need to find him.  Please!”
Seeing the genuinely worried expression on the dirty runaway’s face, the woman
softened.  “I don’t really take much notice as to what goes on outside, but
tell me what your friend looks like, maybe I saw something.”
After Booker gave his description, the woman nodded slowly.  “Yes, yes, I think
I saw him getting out of a brown car.  I noticed him because he had a dazed
look on his face and he was very pretty for a boy.  But that was easily an hour
ago, I don’t know where he went after that.”
“Are you sure you didn’t see him get in another car?” Booker asked, the timbre
of his voice rising slightly.
“I’m sorry,” the woman replied firmly, “But I’ve told you everything I know, so
please leave.”
Muttering, "Thanks anyway," Dennis left the shop.
Checking his watch again, Booker walked up and down the pavement for another
fifteen minutes.  Suddenly realizing that Harry and the others would be
wondering where he was, he turned and sprinted down the footpath, not caring if
he bumped into people along the way.  For a split second, he wondered if Tom
had misunderstood and that when he arrived at the steps of the National Finance
Institution, he would find Tom sitting with his group, waiting for him to
arrive.  As he rounded the corner, his heart fell; only four faces turned
towards him.
“Have you seen Tommy?” he spluttered, leaning over and placing his hands on his
knees as he panted heavily from his run.
Harry stood up, his face visibly alarmed.  “Isn't he with you?” he asked,
trying to keep his voice calm so as not to scare Dave or Erin.
Shaking his head, Booker straightened up and replied, “He was but… I sent him
off with Reliable Robbie and some woman reckons she saw him afterwards but…
FUCK!  He’s been missing for hours and I don’t know where to—”
“BOOKER!” a voice yelled, and spinning around Dennis saw a runaway named Steve
racing towards him.  “Someone’s been hurt!”
“Oh God,” Dennis whispered, the color draining from his face, “Tommy!”
Judy pulled the two younger children close as Harry ran down the steps,
stopping in front of a frightened Steve.  “What have you heard?” he commanded,
“Tell me now.”
Steve spoke quickly, tripping over his words in his excitement, “The East Side
kids found him!  He was… they found him in the disused warehouse on
Huntington.  I think… no, they did… they took him to the free clinic on Fifty-
Fourth, he’d been beaten and shot… no, no… stabbed!  Yeah, stabbed.  I dunno,
but I think he might be dying.”
Erin broke into loud sobs as Judy held her close.  Harry turned to Booker. 
“Go,” he instructed quietly, “We’ll meet you there.”
Dennis took off at a sprint, his heart pounding as he dodged and weaved through
the post lunch crowds clogging up the pavement.  “Out of my way!” he shouted,
occasionally shoving at an uncooperative pedestrian.  He arrived at the clinic
within fifteen minutes and skidding into the waiting area, he yelled
hysterically, “WHERE IS HE?  WHERE IS HE?”
A nurse scurried out from behind the reception area.  Taking in Dennis’ dirty,
rumpled appearance, she immediately knew which patient he was inquiring about. 
“It’s okay, he’s with the doctor, you’ll have to wait here until—”
“NO!” Booker screamed, “NO! NO! NOOO!  I need to see him, I need to see if it’s
Tommy!”
The nurse laid a reassuring hand on Dennis’ shoulder.  “You need to calm down,
you’re not helping your friend by behaving this way.  Take a seat and I’ll talk
to the doctor.”
Ripping at his hair, Booker paced frantically back and forth in the waiting
area until the nurse once again appeared.  “Is he okay?  Can I see him?” he
asked hysterically.
Nodding, the nurse beckoned him forward.  Following down a brightly lit
corridor, Booker wondered if he wanted it to be Tom or not.  If it was Tom, at
least he had found him and if he were hurt, he would do everything in his power
to make him well again.  However, if it was not Tom, he still had the daunting
task of trying to find out where he was.  Taking a deep breath, he entered an
exam room and cried out when he saw the beaten, bloody body of his friend
laying on a bed, “TOMMY!”
Running towards the prone figure, one of the doctors in attendance intercepted
him.  “Whoa son, take it easy.  Is this your friend?”
Booker nodded, his eyes never leaving Tom’s battered body.  “Yeah, he um, he’s
Tommy,” he gulped, as tears sprang to his eyes.
The doctor put a fatherly arm around Dennis’ shoulders and led him to a row of
seats.  Sitting down, he motioned to Dennis to do likewise.  “Your friend’s in
a pretty bad way but he’s going to survive.  We need to get him to hospital so
they can do a laparotomy to rule out any serious internal damage but I’m
confident that the knife hasn’t penetrated any vital organs, so it’s really
just a precaution.”
Shaking his head, Booker stared up at the doctor with wide eyes.  “He doesn’t
have insurance, he can’t afford—”
“It’s okay,” the doctor replied, smiling reassuringly, “They’ve agreed to take
him at no cost.”
“Oh thank God,” Booker breathed in relief, as tears trickled down his cheeks. 
“Is he awake?  Can I speak to him?”
The young nurse who had escorted Booker to Tom poked her head in the room. 
“The EMTs are here,” she informed the doctor before hurrying away.
Standing up the doctor spoke, “You can go with him if you like.”
Dennis nodded in appreciation.  Walking out beside Tom’s stretcher, Booker
turned to the nurse.  “My friends are coming can you tell them where we are
and… can you give them this,” reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the money
he had earned.  “Tell them to go to The Exeter, I’ll meet them there.”
The nurse smiled kindly, tears glistening in her eyes.  Reaching out, she
stroked Dennis’ tear stained cheek.  “Don’t worry honey, he’ll be fine and I’ll
give your friends the message.”
Smiling in return, Booker followed a semi-conscious Tom out to the waiting
ambulance.
 
***** Pain *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: Dennis nodded in appreciation.  Walking out beside Tom’s
     stretcher, Booker turned to the nurse.  “My friends are coming can
     you tell them where we are and… can you give them this,” reaching
     into his pocket, he pulled out the money he had earned.  “Tell them
     to go to The Exeter, I’ll meet them there.”
     The nurse smiled kindly, tears glistening in her eyes.  Reaching out,
     she stroked Dennis’ tear stained cheek.  “Don’t worry honey, he’ll be
     fine and I’ll give your friends the message.”
     Smiling in return, Booker followed a semi-conscious Tom out to the
     waiting ambulance.
 Pain
A surgical team awaited Tom’s arrival at the hospital and they immediately took
him to the O.R.  Booker paced the tiled floor of the waiting area, nervously
chewing at his bitten down fingernails.  It took several hours before a doctor
came and spoke to him to advise that the knife had not penetrated any of Tom’s
organs and that after an overnight stay and if there were no complications, he
could go home.
Home Dennis thought miserably, Is there such place?  After begging profusely,
the nurses still would not allow him to see Tom, so Booker left the hospital
and walked the wet pavements back to The Exeter hotel.  He found Harry, Judy,
Dave and Erin sitting in the foyer eating a pizza.  They ate silently as Dennis
described Tom’s injuries.  When he had finished speaking, he wondered why none
of them would look him in the eye.  An uneasy feeling washed over him and just
as he was about to ask what was wrong, Harry spoke, “Um, Booker… there’s
something we need to talk about.”
“Oh?” Booker asked tersely, as tiredness suddenly enveloped his body, “It had
better be good news, ‘cause I’m not really in the mood for anything else.”
“We’re leaving,” Judy blurted out, as Harry threw her an angry look.  Seeing
Dennis’ startled expression she softened her voice, “Harry and I are taking
Dave and Erin and going back east.  It’s safer there and after what happened to
Tommy…”  Her voice drifted off as she thought of Tom lying in a hospital bed, a
knife wound in his abdomen.
“So go,” Dennis replied wearily, “What do you want me to say huh?  Of course I
want you to be safe but your timing sucks.  Tommy’s in hospital and I won’t
leave him alone.”
“Are you mad?” Judy asked, tears spilling from her dark brown eyes.  “We can
wait if you want, until Tommy’s better and then we can all go.”
Dennis gave a small smile and shook his head.  “No… you should go as soon as
possible.  Dave and Erin need to feel safe and they sure as hell don’t feel it
here.”  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the remainder of his earnings
and the money the hospital had given him that belonged to Tom.  Leaving enough
for a few nights accommodation and food, he handed the rest to Harry.  “Here,
it probably isn’t enough but—”
“It is,” Harry answered quickly as he pocketed the notes.  “Thanks.  I um, made
some money tonight, so we’re good.  We’re going to leave first thing in the
morning.  You know, get the hell out of Dodge and all that.”
Harry’s pitiful attempt at humor fell flat.  Booker stood up, too upset and
tired to continue the conversation.  He gave each teenager a long, warm hug and
wishing them well, he dragged his feet up the stairs to his room.  Walking in,
he saw his and Tom’s bags sitting on the double bed.   Staring at Tom’s holdall
it suddenly occurred to him that he knew very little about Tom McQuaid. 
Hesitating for just a moment, he reached out and unzipped Tom’s bag.  On top
was Fuller’s copy of Catcher in the Rye.  Dennis knew the book well.  Although
having left home at the age of thirteen, he had a very high intelligence and
before leaving junior high behind him for a life on the streets, his teacher
enrolled him in several high school courses.  Flicking through the pages, he
wondered what Tom thought of the book.  Placing it back, he picked up the photo
frame.  Gazing at Tom’s beautiful face, Dennis felt tears run down his cheeks. 
He turned his attention to Doug, who wore a cheeky, lopsided grin.  The
brother’s were nothing alike but Booker could tell from the photo that they
were close.  The remainder of the bag contained clothing and toiletries. 
Pulling out a pair of tatty jeans, a t-shirt, socks and boxers, Booker
carefully folded them and emptying out his own meager possessions, he put the
change of clothing into his shopping bag. 
Placing the photo of Tom on the bedside table, Booker crawled under the covers
without bothering to undress.  He stared at the picture until his eyelids grew
heavy and he fell asleep.
                                      **
Tom woke up in a hospital bed.  He felt groggy and disorientated, unsure as to
where he actually was.  Trying to sit up, a dull pain pulled at his stomach and
he flopped back onto the bed.  Looking around him, he could see medical
equipment and slowly the day’s events resurfaced into his memory.  Some lunatic
who thought he was an abomination to God and all that was God’s law, had beaten
and stabbed him.  Putting his fingers up to his face, he winced as he tenderly
touched his bruised flesh.  As he began to lower his blanket so he could see
his wound, the door to his room opened.
A male nurse entered carrying a clipboard and a small, white cup.  “Ah, you’re
awake.  How are you feeling?” he asked, as he closed the door behind him.
“Dizzy,” Tom replied, “and thirsty.”
The nurse paused at the end of the bed and poured a glass of water out of the
jug.  Handing it to Tom, he waited patiently until the teenager had finished
drinking.
“Thanks,” Tom replied with a smile.
“So,” the nurse said as he consulted his clipboard.  “You’re to have some pain
medication.”  Passing the white cup to Tom, he refilled the glass.  “These will
make you feel better.”
Tom placed the tablets on his tongue and swallowed them down with a sip of
water.  Lying back on the bed, he closed his eyes but they instantly flew back
open when he felt the mattress sag as the nurse sat on the edge of the bed and
spoke in a low menacing tone.  “You’re that hooker everyone’s been talking
about.  They said you were a pretty little thing.”
Tom tried to speak but his mind became cloudy and his vision blurred.  “Shh,”
the nurse interjected as he lowered Tom’s bed sheet and lifted up his gown.  “I
know you like it, so why not lay back and enjoy it huh?”  Unable to move, Tom’s
body was paralyzed by the drugs he had been given.  He felt the man fondle his
cock and he squeezed his eyes shut as his mind screamed, NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! 
The nurse cupped his testicles and massaged them gently.  Moving back to Tom’s
growing erection, he ran his thumb over the engorged head.  “You really do like
that don’t you?” he murmured.  Leaning forward, the nurse darted out his tongue
and licked at the weeping tip.  Tom made a gurgling sound and the man laughed. 
Lowering his head, he took Tom into his mouth and sucked deeply.  Tom’s hips
bucked off the mattress, a strangled cry filled with both pleasure and pain
sounding from his lips. The man continued to suck until Tom was fully aroused. 
He then lifted up his head and spat at Tom, the spittle hitting the injured
teen in the face.  Standing up, the nurse walked silently out the door, leaving
Tom to his humiliation, his body uncovered and his throbbing erection lying
against his injured abdomen.
***** Anguish *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: “So,” the nurse said as he consulted his clipboard. 
     “You’re to have some pain medication.”  Passing the white cup to Tom,
     he refilled the glass.  “These will make you feel better.”
     Tom placed the tablets on his tongue and swallowed them down with a
     sip of water.  Lying back on the bed, he closed his eyes but they
     instantly flew back open when he felt the mattress sag as the nurse
     sat on the edge of the bed and spoke in a low menacing tone.  “You’re
     that hooker everyone’s been talking about.  They said you were a
     pretty little thing.”
     Tom tried to speak but his mind became cloudy and his vision
     blurred.  “Shh,” the nurse interjected as he lowered Tom’s bed sheet
     and lifted up his gown.  “I know you like it, so why not lay back and
     enjoy it huh?”  Unable to move, Tom’s body was paralyzed by the drugs
     he had been given.  He felt the man fondle his cock and he squeezed
     his eyes shut as his mind screamed, NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!  The nurse
     cupped his testicles and massaged them gently.  Moving back to Tom’s
     growing erection, he ran his thumb over the engorged head.  “You
     really do like that don’t you?” he murmured.  Leaning forward, the
     nurse darted out his tongue and licked at the weeping tip.  Tom made
     a gurgling sound and the man laughed.  Lowering his head, he took Tom
     into his mouth and sucked deeply.  Tom’s hips bucked off the
     mattress, a strangled cry filled with both pleasure and pain sounding
     from his lips. The man continued to suck until Tom was fully
     aroused.  He then lifted up his head and spat at Tom, the spittle
     hitting the injured teen in the face.  Standing up, the nurse walked
     silently out the door, leaving Tom to his humiliation, his body
     uncovered and his throbbing erection lying against his injured
     abdomen.
Anguish 
Booker woke early from a fitful sleep.  He lay in bed staring at the photo of
Tom and Doug, his heart heavy with all that Tommy had endured during his short
life.  Although his own life mirrored that of Tom’s, Dennis’ empathy was always
for others rather than for himself.  He had learnt early on that self-pity only
led to deep, soul-destroying depression and if he were to survive on the
streets and take care of others, he needed to stay strong. 
Looking at the clock, he sighed and climbed out of bed.  He needed to hit the
streets early if he were to make enough money for food and to keep both he and
Tom at the hotel for as long as Tommy needed to recuperate.  He took a long,
hot shower before dressing and grabbing up all of his and Tom’s dirty clothes. 
He headed down to the basement and threw the clothing into the machine.  Adding
powder, he set the washer’s cycle and closed the lid.  An added luxury of
staying at the Exeter was that he could leave his laundry unattended, knowing
that it would not be stolen.   
Climbing back up the stairs, he greeted Morty the hotel manager, before exiting
the building into the cool morning air.  Traffic was light but being a Sunday
morning he knew it would not take long to find a client.  Many men who had
spent the night partying were looking for a little action before heading home
to their families.  Dennis knew if he played his cards right he could make
several hundred dollars in a short space of time.  He made the decision not to
be choosy.  If the offer were there, he would take it.  Every extra dollar he
made meant he could keep himself and Tom off the streets and sleeping in a
comfortable bed. 
He only had to wait five minutes before a car stopped beside him.  Taking a
deep breath, Booker let his mind go blank.  Leaving reality allowed him to
become a different person.  Then, when the john was violating his body, the
violation was not happening to Dennis Patrick Booker, it was happening to
somebody else.  Someone who did not care that his body was being debased,
someone who did not weep for their lost childhood and someone who would one
day, be able to leave the degradation behind and become SOMEONE.
                                      **
Four hours later Dennis had nearly three hundred dollars in his pocket.  His
body ached and he longed for a shower to wash away the scent of the four men he
had pleasured.  Checking on his laundry, he found that Morty had put the clean
clothes into the dryer and that they were now aired.  Gathering the warm fabric
into his arms, he walked up to his room.  Closing the door, he dropped the
laundry onto the bed before peeling off his clothing and tossing it onto the
floor.  As he entered the small en suite bathroom, he caught his reflection in
the mirror.  Stopping, he examined his blackened eye and the finger marks
around his throat.  His last client had become a little too rough during sex
and at one point, Booker had feared for his life.  However, once the man had
obtained his release, he had thankfully calmed down.  He had even paid Dennis
extra for the inconvenience.  Booker thought it would be funny if it were not
so sad.
Turning on the faucets, Booker stepped into the small cubicle.  Closing his
eyes, he let the hot water wash away his shame.  Using the over scented hotel
soap, he scrubbed frantically at his body but he did not feel clean.  Tears
mingled with the water as he began to sob uncontrollably.  He knew he should be
used to it by now but every time a man abused his body, it only added to his
humiliation.  He was aware that part of his grief was because he had lost Harry
and the others.  They had been together for over a year and to Dennis they were
his family.  Another part of his sorrow was for Tom.  So young and beautiful
and yet already so damaged.  He allowed the final part of his grief to be for
himself.  It was not often that he let self-pity overwhelm him.  With it came
the danger of depression and that often opened the doorway to drugs.  Numbing
the mind was an easy way to deal with the violation that occurred on a daily
basis.  But Booker had seen the aftermath of such decisions and it was not a
path he wanted to choose.  Too often, it became a vicious cycle of needing the
drugs to be able to prostitute and needing to prostitute just to pay for the
drugs. 
As the water began to turn cool, Dennis turned off the faucets.  Stepping out
of the shower, he slowly dried himself off.  He dressed in clean but tattered
clothing before picking up the bag of Tom’s clothes and walking out the door.
                                      **
It took Booker an hour to walk to the hospital and he arrived at a little after
two in the afternoon.  Reception directed him to ward 3A, Room 6.  As he pushed
open the door, Dennis was surprised to see that Tom was in a private room.   He
walked over to the bed where Tom lay sleeping, the covers pulled protectively
up to his chin.   Reaching out, Booker gently stroked at Tom’s dirty hair but
he had barely made contact when Tom’s eyes flew open, blind terror staring out
of the wide brown orbs as he grabbed Dennis’ wrist in a vice like grip and
twisted it backwards.  “Don’t fucking touch me!” Tom screamed, his eyes
flashing manically.  “I’ll fucking kill you!”
“Tommy it’s me!” Dennis cried, the pain from Tom’s grip bringing tears to his
eyes. 
It took several moments before the hysteria cleared from Tom’s face.  “Booker?”
he whispered as he released his hold.  “I thought you were…”  Tom did not
finish the sentence, instead adding in a voice full of desperation as he tried
to climb out of bed, “Take me home.”
“Wait Tommy,” Booker replied as he gently prevented his injured friend from
standing up.  “I spoke to a nurse and she said they’re keeping you in another
night, just as a precaution.”
Tom’s face turned ashen.  “No!” he pleaded, as he grasped hold of Booker’s
arm.  “I don’t want to stay here.  I don’t want him to…”  His voice trailed off
as a blank look slowly replaced his terrified expression.
Fear squeezed at Dennis’ heart.  “Don’t want who to do what Tommy?” he asked as
he took Tom’s hand into his own.  “Talk to me, tell me what happened?”
Tom withdrew his hand and looked away, his face now passive.  “Nothing.  It
doesn’t matter, not anymore.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Dennis stared intently into Tom’s vacant eyes. 
“Yes it does,” he replied softly, “You matter Tommy, you’ve got to start
believing that.  Did someone do something to you?”
Tears filled Tom’s eyes but his face remained expressionless as he stared off
into space.  “Even if they did, no one’s going to believe a filthy whore,” he
whispered.
Anger coursed through Booker’s veins as his hands gripped at the bed sheets. 
Some bastard had yet again abused Tom, this time within the sanctuary of a
hospital.  He could not believe that another human being could be so callous as
to take advantage of an injured teenager.   Making a snap decision, he stood up
and took Tom’s clothing out of his bag.  Tossing them onto the bed, he held out
his hand, “C’mon, let’s get you dressed, we’re leaving.”
Tom gave a relieved smile as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.  
Dropping his feet to the floor, he used the bed as a support as he swayed
unsteadily.  Booker checked through the cupboards for Tom’s belongings.  The
jeans and shirt he had been wearing were too stained with blood to salvage but
he grabbed the bandanna, denim waistcoat, socks and boots.  Removing Tom’s
gown, Booker sucked in his breath but remained silent at the sight of his
friend’s battered body.  He carefully helped Tom to dress before gently sitting
him back on the bed.  Squatting down, he put on Tom’s socks and boots before
standing up and carefully tying the bandanna around Tom’s head.  Holding out
his hand he asked, “Ready?”
Tom nodded.  His face was extremely pale and for a fraction of a second, Dennis
wondered if he was doing the right thing.  But having witnessed the suffering
on Tom’s face he knew he could not leave him to be systematically abused within
the confines of the hospital.  Putting an arm around his injured friend, he
slowly helped him walk out of the room. 
Seeing Tom emerge fully dressed, a middle-aged nurse strode officiously towards
them.  “Where are you going?  You need to get back to bed,” she instructed
curtly.
Booker gave her a withering look.  “Maybe if you took better care of your
patients instead of allowing them to be assaulted I’d let Tommy stay.  But I
reckon he’s better off with me so I’m taking him home.”
Running her eyes up and down Dennis’ scruffy clothing, the nurse sneered at
him.  “Home?  You don’t have a home.”
Smiling placidly, Booker replied, “Yeah we do.  Home is wherever Tommy and I
decide it to be.” 
***** Solace *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: Seeing Tom emerge fully dressed, a middle-aged nurse
     strode officiously towards them.  “Where are you going?  You need to
     get back to bed,” she instructed curtly.
     Booker gave her a withering look.  “Maybe if you took better care of
     your patients instead of allowing them to be assaulted I’d let Tommy
     stay.  But I reckon he’s better off with me so I’m taking him home.”
     Running her eyes up and down Dennis’ scruffy clothing, the nurse
     sneered at him.  “Home?  You don’t have a home.”
     Smiling placidly, Booker replied, “Yeah we do.  Home is wherever
     Tommy and I decide it to be.”
Solace 
By the time the two boys had entered their room, Tom’s face was deathly pale
and he was sweating profusely from pain and fatigue.  Booker guided him to the
bed and gently tried to help him to sit down.  Tom refused, shaking his head
back and forth, as he gasped for breath, “No… I need… I need to take a shower.”
Dennis understood Tom’s desire to get clean but he did not think he looked up
to the task.  “Maybe later,” he suggested kindly, “You really look like you
need to sit down.”
Exhausted tears sprang into Tom’s eyes.  “I need to get clean,” he whispered,
as he began to sway on his feet.  “I need…”
Tom’s knees buckled and Booker barely managed to catch his friend before he
passed out.  Dragging Tom to the bed, Dennis was able to lay Tom down just as
the teen's eyes fluttered open. 
“Sorry,” Tom murmured as he struggled to sit up. 
Booker smiled and sitting down on the bed he laid a hand on Tom’s leg.  “I
really think the shower can wait.”
With a look of determination, Tom struggled to his feet.  “It can’t wait,” he
answered quietly, “But maybe you could… you know… help me?”
Dennis’ eyes widened in surprise.  “Are you sure?” he asked carefully, “I mean,
wouldn’t you rather put it off for a while and—”
“I’ve had men’s hands all over my body Booker,” Tom snapped irritably.  “What
difference does one more make?  And it’s what you want isn’t it?  It’s what
you’ve wanted since you first laid eyes on me.”
Tom’s words penetrated Dennis’ heart like a spear.   Standing up, he slowly
backed away as vomit rose in his throat at the horror of Tom’s statement.  “Is
that how you see me?” he whispered in disbelief before his voice became
hysterical, “You think I’m helping you so I can take advantage of you?  My
friends left today and I didn’t go with them because I wanted to make sure you
were all right!  FUCK YOU!  You FUCKING asshole!”
Closing his eyes, Tom steadied himself against the wall as Booker raged his
anger against him.  He did not know why he had said that to Dennis.  He just
felt so fucked up and lashing out at Booker seemed the easiest way at not
having to deal with all that was going on in his mind.  His confusion at the
arousal he now felt when strangers laid their hands on his body was
confronting.  Part of him wanted Booker to touch him so he could see what
happened and part of him wanted to piss Booker off so badly that he would up
and leave and never come back.  He was convinced that the kindness the sixteen-
year-old runaway had shown him was ill deserved.  He was trash and now that he
actually liked being touched up and fucked by men, he was perverted trash.
Suddenly aware that Booker had stopped yelling, Tom opened his eyes.  Seeing
Dennis’ wounded expression tore at Tom’s heart.  All the pain and humiliation
of the last few days welled up inside him and he burst into tears.  Throwing an
arm over his face he attempted to push past Booker but the teen’s strong arms
enveloped him into a comforting hug.  As he sobbed uncontrollably into Dennis’
chest he spluttered, “There’s so-so-something wr-wrong with m-me!”
Guiding Tom over to the bed, Booker sat down and pulled the sobbing boy down
next to him.  “What’s wrong with you Tommy?” he asked as he gently disengaged
Tom from his hold.
Wiping at his tears Tom desperately searched Dennis’ face, his eyes seeking out
his friend’s in an attempt to make him understand.  As Booker shook his head in
confusion, Tom answered in a whisper, his voice full of turmoil, “I came.  When
Robbie Werner fucked me I came!” 
Dennis stared back at Tom in amazement and a slight smile twitched at his
lips.  Reaching out to cup Tom’s face in his hand, he managed to contain his
amusement as he replied, “So?  That just means he did it right.  He hit your
pleasure spot Tommy, that’s all.  And he wasn’t raping you, you agreed to have
sex with him remember?  There’s a big difference.  And you’re fifteen.  Most
stimulation is gonna bring on a reaction, it’s all about hormones and stuff.”
Tom’s eyes widened at Booker’s explanation.  “Really?” he muttered, “So I’m not
a pervert?”
At Tom’s question, Dennis could no longer hold back his mirth.  Laughing aloud,
he pulled Tom into a hug.  “Of course you’re not a pervert!  But if you are,
I’m one too ‘cause there are times when I enjoy it, you know, when it feels
good or when it’s with someone I care about.”
Staring at Booker, Tom noticed his friend’s face beginning to flush.  “You do
it ‘cause you want to?” Tom asked in bewilderment.   “Who do you do it with?”
Rubbing his hand over his face, Booker sighed loudly in an attempt to hide his
embarrassment.  “I dunno, I like going with Reliable Robbie, he sure gets the
job done and you know… when I first met Harry we… for comfort you know?  But it
didn’t last long.”
“Oh,” Tom replied as a small smile spread across his face.  “When I first met
you I thought you and Judy were together, I never would have guessed...”  A
frown quickly replaced his smile as he remembered what Dennis had said
earlier.  “You said Judy and the others left.  Where did they go?”
Dennis stood up and began to throw his clean laundry back into his shopping
bag.  “I dunno,” he replied despondently, “Back east somewhere.  It'll be safer
for Dave and Erin.”
“Was it ‘cause of me?” Tom asked sadly.  “Did I make them leave?”
Dennis stopped what he was doing and sat back down next to Tom.  “Of course not
Tommy.  They left ‘cause it was the best thing to do.”
“Oh,” Tom replied, his tone subdued.  Staring at Booker, he noticed for the
first time the blackened eye and red marks around his friend’s neck.   “Who
hurt you?” he asked quietly.
Rubbing at his neck self consciously, Dennis averted his eyes.  “It’s nothing,
a guy just got a little carried away.”
Tom nodded, unsure of how to respond.  Instead of speaking, he stood up and
slowly began to undress. 
This time Booker did not attempt to stop him.  His eyes traveled down Tom’s
battered body as he stood in front of him wearing only his boxers.  “Are you in
pain?” he asked quietly, as his hand reached out and gently touched the
bandaged wound on his friend’s stomach. 
Tom shook his head but his face belied him.  “I’m fine, I just need a shower
and some rest.”
Dropping his hand, Booker nodded.  “Okay, but leave the bathroom door open.”
Giving a small smile of reassurance, Tom slowly walked into the en suite.  When
Dennis heard the water running, he lay down on the bed and listened closely for
any small sound that might indicate that Tom was in trouble.  But half an hour
later, Tom emerged smelling of hotel soap, a towel wrapped around his narrow
waist and his damp hair ruffled from a finger comb.  Booker watched from his
vantage point on the bed as Tom rummaged through his bag and pulled out another
pair of boxers.  As he dropped his towel and pulled them on, Dennis tried
desperately to keep his feelings under control.  The last thing Tommy needed
was for him to show how aroused he felt when he saw him naked.  Turning around,
Tom walked over to the bed and pulling back the covers, he climbed in and
closed his eyes. 
Booker quietly undressed down to his boxers.  Lying down on the bed, he
remained above the covers watching Tom sleep, his eyes transfixed on the
beautiful face that in slumber, finally looked peaceful.
                                      **
Awakening to a darkened room, Tom groaned in pain.  He had left the hospital so
abruptly he did not have any pain medication.  Moaning quietly, he rolled over
in an effort to find a comfortable position.  Two brown eyes shone out of the
darkness, illuminated by the moonlight that glimmered through a chink in the
ill-fitting curtains.
“Are you okay Tommy?” Booker whispered, his voice weary from lack of sleep.
Tom nodded but realizing that Dennis probably could not see him, he answered,
“I’m just a bit uncomfortable, I’ll be okay.”
Booker leaned over and switched on the bedside lamp.  As the soft glow
lightened the room, Dennis could see Tom’s face etched in pain.  Rolling out of
bed, he pulled on his jeans and headed for the door.  “I’ll see if Morty’s got
any paracetamol, it might help a little.”
Lying in bed waiting for Booker to return, Tom thought about Doug.  He wondered
if his brother was finding it rough in juvenile detention.  He was well aware
that his brother was capable of taking care of himself but there was always a
chance that someone bigger and tougher would take a dislike to you and make
your life hell.  Hearing the bedroom door open, Tom quickly wiped away the
tears that once again slid down his cheeks.  Dennis went into the bathroom and
poured some water into a glass.  Returning, he sat on the bed and popped two
tablets out of their seals.
“Here,” he said, handing the pills and the glass to Tom.  “It’s not much but it
should take the edge off.”
Tom struggled to a sitting position and placing the tablets on his tongue, he
swallowed them down with a drink of water.  “Thanks,” he muttered before
putting the glass on the bedside table and lying back down.  Booker returned to
the other side of the bed and taking off his jeans, he once again lay on top of
the covers.  Tom turned towards him, moaning slightly at the effort.  “Why
don’t you get under the covers?” he asked quietly, “Aren’t you cold?”
Booker did not reply straight away, but when he did, his voice was sad.  “I
thought maybe you’d think… I dunno, maybe you’d think I was gonna try something
with you.”
“Oh,” Tom answered, as he realized how his earlier words had affected Dennis. 
Reaching out, he touched Booker’s arm.  “I didn’t mean what I said.  I know you
wouldn’t do anything unless I was okay with it.”
Dennis almost blurted out, “Are you okay with it?” but he bit his tongue just
in time.  Climbing under the covers, he gazed at his friend’s pale face, as he
gently brushed the hair back from Tom’s eyes.   When he did not pull away,
Dennis slowly continued to stroke Tom’s hair.  Sighing deeply, Tom’s blackened
eyelids fluttered as he allowed himself to be comforted.
“Mmm,” Tom murmured sleepily, “Doug used to stroke my hair when I was little
and Dad had—”
“Hush,” Booker commanded soothingly, as his fingers lightly played with Tom’s
hair, “No more talking, it’s time to sleep.”
Tom’s eyelids grew heavier.  Moving slowly across the bed, he could feel
Dennis’ body heat against him.   Relaxing against the warmth, he closed his
eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

 
***** Revelations *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously:  Dennis almost blurted out, “Are you okay with it?” but
     he bit his tongue just in time.  Climbing under the covers, he gazed
     at his friend’s pale face, as he gently brushed the hair back from
     Tom’s eyes.   When he did not pull away, Dennis slowly continued to
     stroke Tom’s hair.  Sighing deeply, Tom’s blackened eyes fluttered as
     he allowed himself to be comforted.
     “Mmm,” Tom murmured sleepily, “Doug used to stroke my hair when I was
     little and Dad had—”
     “Hush,” Booker commanded soothingly, as his fingers lightly played
     with Tom’s hair, “No more talking, it’s time to sleep.”
     Tom’s eyelids grew heavier.  Moving slowly across the bed, he could
     feel Dennis’ body heat against him.   Relaxing against the warmth, he
     closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
Revelations 
Awakening to the sound of rain, Tom slowly opened his eyes.  No sun light
filtered through the crack in the curtain, making the room gloomy and cold.  It
took several moments before Tom’s brain acknowledged the heaviness on his
body.  Looking down, he saw that Booker’s arm lay draped across his waist.  At
first, embarrassment washed over him at the thought of Dennis holding him in
such a loving way.  But as he became aware of his back touching Booker’s chest,
he slowly realized how comforting it was to lie so intimately with another
human being.  He could feel Dennis’ breath against his neck and a shiver of
arousal ran through his body as his heart rate quickened.  Closing his eyes, he
allowed his body to take pleasure in the contact with Booker’s skin.  His cock
began to swell and before he could control himself, he let out a soft moan. 
Aware of movement beside him, he sat up in bed with a jolt, crying out as his
bruised ribs flared from the sudden agitation.
Wrapping his arms around his chest, Tom blinked back tears of pain.  He felt a
soft caress against his skin as Booker tenderly rubbed his bruised back. 
“Hey Tommy, are you all right?” Dennis asked in concern as his fingers
continued their gentle movement over Tom’s damaged skin.
Nodding, Tom turned and managed a watery smile.  “Yeah, I guess I sat up too
quick.”
Smiling tranquilly, Booker replied in a somewhat teasing tone.  “Well, why
don’t you lie back down?”
Tom could not help but grin.  “Asshole,” he laughed, as he felt his earlier
fears dissipate.  Lying carefully back down, he stared up at the cracked
ceiling.  He had so many thoughts racing through his brain but he was too
afraid to voice them.   Sensing Booker’s gaze upon him, he rolled onto his
side.  He smiled at Dennis’ ruffled hair and sleepy expression.  Tom thought he
looked more like the boy next door than the bad boy image he tried to
portray.  
“What?” Booker asked softly, his voice still drowsy.
 
About to reply “nothing,” Tom suddenly found himself asking, “Have you ever
been in love?”
A slow smile spread across Booker’s face.  “Wow Tommy, that’s a heavy question
first thing in the morning.  Why do you wanna know?”
A pink flush tinged Tom’s cheeks and he ducked his head in embarrassment.  “I
dunno,” he replied, as his finger traced a pattern on the duvet.  “I was just
thinking that…” his voice trailed off and after a few moments he murmured, “It
doesn’t matter, forget it.”
Getting the impression that Tom really wanted to discuss something but did not
know how to broach the subject, Booker pushed gently, “Tell me.”
Feeling foolish at having started the conversation, Tom’s flush deepened. 
Sometimes he felt like such a child.  Over the last few days, he had come to
realize that Doug was the tough one.  Without his brother by his side, he felt
weak and helpless.  Since leaving home, all he had done was cry.  He had always
thought that people were afraid of him but now he knew it was Doug that they
feared, he was just little Tommy McQuaid, Doug’s baby brother.  He was
inexperienced in the behaviors of normal fifteen-year-old boys.  The abuse at
home had prevented him from developing relationships with his peers.   Doug had
been the only other teenager in his life and because of his lack of contact
with others his age, he often felt emotionally stunted. 
Lifting his head, he met Booker’s compassionate gaze.  He swallowed deeply
before murmuring, “Everything I’ve been through, all the things that have been
done to me and…”  Lowering his eyes, he whispered, “I’ve never been kissed.”
The revelation stunned Dennis completely.  Never in his wildest dreams would he
have thought that was possible.  Tom was so unbelievably gorgeous, that he
imagined he would have had loads of girls lining up to date him, regardless of
the rough exterior.   Seeing Tom’s mortified expression at having revealed such
an intimate secret, Booker gave an sympathetic smile.  “Hey, that doesn’t mean
anything.  Your life’s been tough, it’s understandable—”
“IS IT?” Tom yelled hysterically, his face distorted with anguish.  “I always
thought the kissing part came first.  But no, the first thing I learnt was how
to give head!  For fuck’s sake, how fucking screwed up is that?”  Determined
not to cry, he quickly turned away so he would not have to witness the pity on
Dennis’ face. 
A heavy silence hung in the air until Dennis finally spoke, “Look at me Tommy.”
Stubbornly shaking his head, Tom remained staring at the open door of the
bathroom.  After several moments, Booker climbed out of bed and walking around
to the opposite side, he sat down next to Tom.  Sweeping Tom’s long bangs from
his face, Dennis gave his friend an supportive smile.  “It’s your Dad who took
your childhood from you Tommy, he’s the one to blame.  Is it fucked up?  Of
course it is.  But you mustn’t feel inadequate because someone else forced
their screwed up life on you.”  Stroking Tom’s hair he paused for a moment
before continuing in a soft voice, “I promise you, one day you’ll find someone
to love and they’re gonna love you back just as much.”
Tom sat up slowly, his eyes misty with unshed tears.  “Do you really think so?”
he asked shyly.
Booker pulled him into a gentle hug, being careful not hurt his damaged body. 
“I know so,” he whispered in Tom’s ear, wishing he could be the one to show
Tommy how wonderful true love really felt.
                                      **
Both boys fell back to sleep for several more hours.  Dennis woke first and as
he climbed out of bed, he was careful not to wake Tom.  Pulling back the
curtain just enough so he could peer out, he saw that the rain had stopped.  He
stood for several minutes watching the people on the footpaths below scurrying
back and forth, going about their daily business.  He spotted several street
kids he knew pan handling on the corner.  Few people stopped to throw loose
change into the baseball caps lying on the pavement.  Booker knew how hard it
was to make any money by begging but it was always worth a try.  Anything was
better than the alternative.
Turning away and letting the curtain drop back, he stared at Tom.  The bruising
around Tom’s eyes and face were still a vivid shade of red.  He knew it must be
painful, along with the damage to Tom’s ribs, the knife wound and the various
other contusions covering the slim body.  But Tom had made no real complaint,
leading Booker to the conclusion that severe beatings were a regular occurrence
in Tom’s life.  His eyes moved over to the digital clock on the nightstand. 
The red luminous numbers informed him that it was 11:06am.  Grabbing up his
clothes, he walked into the bathroom.
Exiting a half hour later, he saw Tom standing at the window.  He walked over
and silently stood next to his friend but instead of looking down at the
swarming crowds, he studied Tom’s pale face.  He could see the pain reflected
in the brown eyes and putting an arm around Tom’s slim waist, he gently steered
him back towards the bed. 
Grateful to be back under the warm covers, Tom gave Booker a half smile but it
quickly disappeared when he saw Dennis pulling on his boots.  “Where are you
going?” he asked, his brow knitting into a worried frown.
Booker grinned back.  “It’s not what you think, we’ve got enough money for a
few days.  I thought I’d bring you breakfast in bed or…” he indicated towards
the clock, “lunch in bed, seeing as it’s nearly midday.”
Tom beamed back happily.  “Lunch, then we can have burgers.”
“Burgers it is,” Dennis replied cheerfully.  “But I’ve got an errand to run
first so I’ll be gone for a while.  Will you be okay?”
“Sure,” Tom replied lazily, “Just chuck us the remote and I’ll watch TV.”
Booker threw the rectangular device onto the bed.   Grabbing his jacket, he
said goodbye to Tom and left the room.
                                      **
Returning two hours later, Booker opened the door to see that Tom had showered
and dressed.  He placed the bag of burgers on the bedside table and sat down on
the bed as Tom struggled to a sitting position next to him.  As they started
eating, Tom spied a second larger bag sitting on the floor.  Speaking with a
mouth full of food he mumbled, “What’s that?”
Dennis put down his burger and reached in the bag.  First, he pulled out some
non-prescription pain medication and tossed them onto the bed.  Secondly, he
pulled out a long, grey trench coat.  “I went to the second hand store and got
you this.  I know it’ll be too big but it’ll keep you warm.”
Tom smiled through a mouth full of burger.  Swallowing down his food, he stood
up and tried on the coat.  It reached almost to his ankles and was a little too
broad across the shoulders but otherwise it fit well.  A deep sense of
gratitude washed over him.  Booker had spent money on something that was really
a luxury.  Spending money on such an item meant that he would be back on the
streets sooner than what would have been necessary.  Heaving a sad sigh, Tom
took off the coat and after throwing it on to the bed, he sat back down and
resumed eating.  “Thanks,” he muttered, averting his eyes from Dennis’ gaze. 
“But you shouldn’t have.”
Narrowing his eyes, Booker stared at Tom.  “Don’t you like it?” he asked.  He
felt deflated at the lack of reaction.  He had been so sure that the coat would
be the sort that Tommy would like.
Feeling like an asshole for not showing his gratitude, Tom wiped his mouth and
turned to face Booker.  “I love it,” he replied, managing a small smile.  “But
you shouldn’t have spent the money on me.  It just means you have to go back
out—”
“I’m gonna have go back out eventually anyway Tommy,” Booker answered sadly,
“And you needed a coat, you’ll never survive the winter without one.”
The thought that he would still be on the streets come winter made Tom’s heart
sink.  He had only been away from home a few days and within that short space
of time, he had managed to be duped, beaten up and sexually molested.  God only
knew what the next six months would hold if his first couple of days were any
indication.  A dark cloud descended over him.  He was not sure he could do it
for that long, even with Booker by his side. 
Seeing the change in Tom’s mood, Dennis laid a hand against Tom’s bruised
cheek.  “Hey,” he murmured in a comforting tone.  “What’s going on?”
Tom’s big, brown eyes met Booker’s gaze.  “I don’t think I keep doing this,” he
whispered, feeling even more pathetic as the words left his mouth.
Coldness gripped at Dennis’ heart at the thought of losing his new friend.  “Do
you want to go home?” he asked quietly, afraid of what the answer would be.
Tom remained silent for several minutes as he thought over his options.  Going
home would mean dealing with his father’s physical and sexual abuse.  It would
mean having no one to talk to and no one to comfort him when he was hurting. 
Staying on the streets meant prostitution and the possibility of physical
harm.  But it also meant having Booker as a companion, someone who knew exactly
what he was going through.  Booker offered both friendship and comfort and
having finally experienced the two, Tom knew he could not give them up. 
Rubbing his face with his hands, he turned and faced Dennis.  Smiling, he
mumbled awkwardly, “I want to stay with you.”
The tightness in Dennis’ chest relaxed and he smiled happily.  “Good, ‘cause
I’m kind of getting used to having you around.”
***** Falling Apart *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: Tom’s big, brown eyes met Booker’s gaze.  “I don’t think
     I keep doing this,” he whispered, feeling even more pathetic as the
     words left his mouth.
     Coldness gripped at Dennis’ heart at the thought of losing his new
     friend.  “Do you want to go home?” he asked quietly, afraid of what
     the answer would be.
     Tom remained silent for several minutes as he thought over his
     options.  Going home would mean dealing with his father’s physical
     and sexual abuse.  It would mean having no one to talk to and no one
     to comfort him when he was hurting.  Staying on the streets meant
     prostitution and the possibility of physical harm.  But it also meant
     having Booker as a companion, someone who knew exactly what he was
     going through.  Booker offered both friendship and comfort and having
     finally experienced the two, Tom knew he could not give them up. 
     Rubbing his face with his hands, he turned and faced Dennis. 
     Smiling, he mumbled awkwardly, “I want to stay with you.”
     The tightness in Dennis’ chest relaxed and he smiled happily.  “Good,
     ‘cause I’m kind of getting used to having you around.”
Falling_Apart 
Several days passed before money once again became an issue.  Despite
assurances to the contrary, Booker did not think Tom was well enough to sleep
rough, which meant going back on the game. 
Waking early in the morning, Tom felt Dennis’ now familiar embrace holding him
tight.  Sighing contentedly, he wriggled backwards so he could enjoy the heat
radiating from Booker’s body.  As he made contact, he felt the hardness of
Booker’s cock pushing against him.  He immediately stopped moving and held his
breath. 
Dennis moaned in his sleep as he pulled Tom closer.  In a semi conscious state,
he began to grind himself against Tom’s backside.  As his cock began to swell,
he opened his eyes so he could fully enjoy what was about to follow.  Seeing
Tom’s bruised back in front of him he pulled away with a cry of alarm.  “Jesus
Tommy, I’m sorry!  I was asleep, I didn’t… JESUS!”
Inwardly composing himself from the initial shock, Tom rolled over.  He had
known for a while that Booker fancied him; he just had not expected him to act
on it so quickly.  He had seen the covert glances when he was dressing or
undressing and at first, he felt panicked at the thought of Booker touching him
in that way.  But over the last few days, he had made the decision that if
Dennis wanted to have sex with him, he would allow it.  More than anything, he
wanted to keep his friend happy, especially now that he was the only one going
out and earning money to keep them both housed and fed.  It was a small
sacrifice to make, considering everything Booker was sacrificing for him.
Taking a deep, calming breath, he smiled sweetly as his finger trailed down
Dennis’ naked torso before stopping just above the waistband of his boxer’s. 
“Do you want me to help you?” he murmured as his fingers slipped underneath the
elastic and entwined themselves around Booker’s erect cock.  “I know you—”
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” Dennis yelled, as he pulled Tom’s hand roughly
away.  “I was asleep!  I didn’t know it was you!”
Tom pouted angrily as humiliation burned his face.  “I thought you wanted it,”
he retorted crossly.  “I wanted to pay you back for everything you’ve done for
me.”
“PAY ME BACK?” Booker screamed, as he jumped out of bed and hastily pulled on
his jeans and shirt.  “Spoken like a true whore!”
Tears pricked at Tom’s eyes as Booker’s words seared deep into his heart.  “I’m
n-not a wh-whore!” he sobbed, “I j-just w-wanted to m-make you h-happy.”
Pulling on his boots, Booker turned to face the anguished teen.  “Yeah?  Well
guess what?” he replied as he stomped over to the door.  “You doing that does
not make me happy.”  As he exited the room, he slammed the door loudly behind
him.
Angrily wiping the tears from his face, Tom stood up and began to dress.  “Fuck
you,” he muttered under his breath and grabbing his coat, he headed outside to
the chaos of the streets.
                                      **
Walking briskly along the wet pavement, Booker hunched his shoulders against
the wind.  He knew he should be soliciting on a street corner rather than
walking off his bad mood but he needed time to think before he could deal with
servicing a client.  He walked several blocks before his breathing had calmed
to a normal rate.  Several blocks later and he began to regret his outburst. 
Tom was such a fucked up kid it was little wonder he had thought he needed to
repay Dennis’ kindness.  What bothered Booker the most though, was that Tom
knew that he wanted him.  He thought he had managed to keep his true feelings
buried whilst still showing Tom love and kindness.  Tommy was obviously more
astute than Booker had given him credit.  The more he thought about it, the
more he realized that he was to blame, not Tom.  It saddened him to think that
Tom thought the only way he could thank Booker was with sexual favors. 
Feeling sick, he remembered that he had called Tom a whore.  He knew all too
well the feeling of degradation that he felt when labeled in such a way.  The
more he thought about it, the more he realized what a hypocrite he was.  Here
he was, walking the streets getting ready to suck some guy’s dick for money. 
Not only that, but he did want Tommy’s fingers wrapped around his cock.  What
stopped him was that he was terrified of taking advantage of a boy who had only
been on the streets for a week.  Not that he wanted sexual favors as
gratitude.  If he and Tom were ever going to have a sexual relationship, he
needed it to be because Tommy wanted it, not because the teenager felt obliged
to do it.
Exhaling loudly, Booker turned around and began walking back to his usual
corner. 
                                      **
As Tom exited the hotel, he took a moment to look at his surroundings.  He was
still unfamiliar with the streets but he was sure if he stopped on any corner,
someone would proposition him.  He wanted money and he wanted it fast.  He
needed to numb the pain in his heart and mind and there was only one way he
could think of doing that; drugs and alcohol.  Crossing the street, he walked
several minutes before he stopped on a corner outside a seedy looking hotel. 
It did not take long before a middle-aged man approached him and offered him
twenty dollars for a blowjob.  Tom agreed on the condition that the man
purchase him a bottle of cheap whiskey.  The deal sealed, he followed his
client down a side alley.  They emerged ten minutes later and true to his word,
the john found a liquor store and bought the whiskey.  Depositing the bottle
into his coat pocket, Tom set out on his second mission; pills.  During his
convalescence, he had spent several hours staring out of his window.   He had
become familiar with one particular street kid, a rough looking teen who begged
outside of a 7-Eleven across the road.  He had witnessed many dealings from the
refuge of his hotel room.  All he had to do was find the boy.
It took a frustratingly long time for Tom to locate the teen but only seconds
to secure a deal.  With most of his money now gone, Tom returned to the
sanctuary of the hotel.  Switching on the TV, he sat on the edge of the bed and
opened the bottle of whiskey.  He knocked back several large swigs before
turning his attention to the pills.  Pulling two Percodan from his pocket, he
swallowed them down with another gulp of whiskey.  The pain in his body slowly
began to subside as the drugs took effect.  It took longer for his mind to
become comfortably numb but eventually the mixture of drugs and half a bottle
of alcohol took hold.  Sinking from the bed to the floor, his head lolled to
the side as he fell into a drug induced stupor. 
                                      **
Having secured enough money to keep both he and Tom housed for another few
nights, Booker slowly made his way up the hotel’s narrow creaking staircase. 
He had practiced his apology repeatedly in his mind and he hoped that Tom would
forgive him for reacting the way he had.  He did not want his friend to carry
the burden of responsibility for what had happened.  He felt he was far more to
blame for the mix up than Tom was.  As way of an apology, Dennis had stopped
off at Joey’s and bought two burgers with the lot, large fries and a bottle of
cola.  It was not a very healthy meal but he knew how much Tom enjoyed it. 
Opening the door to their room, he started to call out but stopped when he saw
Tom lying on the floor.  Seeing the half-empty bottle of whisky in Tom’s hand,
Booker dropped the carry bag of food to the floor. “Tommy!” he cried as he ran
over to kneel beside his friend’s unconscious body.  Lowering his head next to
Tom’s, he could hear shallow breathing.  Relief flooded over him.  All too
often, a runaway died from a drug and alcohol overdose.  It was a sad fact of
street life, which was why Booker avoided using either as a means of comfort.
Needing to know what he was dealing with, Dennis rummaged through Tom’s
pockets.  He found several Percodan in the pocket of Tom’s grey trench coat. 
Placing them on the bedside table, he put his arms around Tom’s chest and
slowly dragged him backwards towards the bathroom.   Laying Tom gently on the
floor, Booker set the shower to cold and once again wrapping his arms around
Tom’s unconscious form, he heaved him into the cubicle.  Using all his
strength, he managed to get Tom to a standing position by keeping his arms
firmly around Tom’s chest and using the tiled wall as support.  As the freezing
water surged over both boys, Tom started to moan.  The veil of fog lifted from
Tom’s mind and he began to struggle to free himself from the vice like grip
squeezing at his chest.  Dennis held firm, managing to keep Tom under the water
for another two minutes.  Eventually breaking free, Tom lashed out viciously,
his fist connecting with Booker’s face.  Cracking his head painfully against
the shower wall, Dennis immediately fought back.  Grabbing Tom, he shoved him
violently out of the shower stall.  Tom cried out as his bruised back hit the
corner of the sink.  Blind rage flooded through Tom’s body as he charged at
Dennis, both boys ending up of the floor of the shower as the cold water
cascaded over them.  Booker instantly got the upper hand and he slammed his
fist hard into Tom’s damaged face.  Blood spurted from the teen’s nose and dark
red droplets mixed with the flowing water.  Defeated, Tom collapsed onto the
shower floor as he began to throw up from the effects of the alcohol and
pills.  Standing up, Dennis stepped out of the cubical, leaving Tom lying on
the floor as vomit and blood swirled down the drain.  Leaning against the sink,
Booker caught his breath before stepping back into the shower and turning off
the faucet.  Tom lay gasping on the wet tiled floor as blood continued to drip
from his nose.  As Dennis leaned down and attempted to help him up, Tom pulled
away angrily, spitting blood as he yelled, “FUCK OFF!”
Holding his hands up in surrender, Booker silently backed out of the cubical. 
Grabbing a towel, he walked into the bedroom, leaving a trail of wet footprints
behind him.  Stripping off his soaking wet clothing, he quickly dried himself
off before pulling on boxers and jeans.  Grabbing up his wet garments in one
arm, he picked up the Percodan tablets and walked back into the bathroom. 
Throwing the drenched bundle of clothes onto the floor, he gazed at Tom who was
still lying on the floor, his thin body shivering from cold.  Tossing the
tablets into the sink, Booker gave his friend a withering look.  “These,” he
said, as he turned on the faucet and washed the pills down the drain, “are
never helpful.”
“What do you know,” Tom mumbled resentfully.
Booker gave Tom a stony look.  “More than you, you fuckwit.  If you want to
drink and take drugs, you’re on your own, ‘cause no way in hell am I coming
home one day to find you dead on the floor from an overdose.”  Bending down to
pick up his sodden clothing, he walked out of the bathroom and exited the room,
slamming the door behind him.
Tom pulled his aching body into a sitting position.  His head swam and for a
moment, he feared he might once again vomit.  As the room stopped spinning, he
pulled his legs up and wrapping his arms around them, he began to slowly rock
back and forth.  It was something he used to do as a means of comfort when he
was young and first experiencing the sexual molestation at he hands of his
father.  He let his mind wander to the special place where his mother still
existed and their family was a happy one.  Silent tears poured down his face as
his imagination ran free.  It was so much easier living in a fantasy world than
in reality and he wished he could close his eyes and stay there forever.  Time
slowed down and he had no idea how long he sat shivering in the shower cubicle
before he was aware that Booker was squatting in front of him.
“Hey Tommy,” Dennis murmured softly, no sign of his previous anger evident in
his voice.  “Let’s get you dry before you catch cold.”
Having no energy left to fight, Tom allowed Booker to help him from the shower
stall.  He stood meekly as his friend undressed him and rubbed him dry.  As
Dennis led him to the bed, he felt hot tears once again burning at his lids. 
Naked and vulnerable, he pulled away from Booker’s embrace and climbing under
the covers, he turned away and sobbed into his pillow. 
Deciding to give Tom some privacy, Booker picked up Tom’s wet clothing and
silently left the room.  As he walked down the stairs to the basement, he
marveled at how quickly things had changed.  In less than two weeks, he had
made a new friend but in doing so, had lost four.   It now appeared his new
friend might not be who he initially thought him to be.  It frightened Dennis
to think of Tom turning so easily to alcohol and prescription medication. 
Tossing Tom’s clothes into the machine along with his own, he closed the lid
and started the cycle.  Closing his eyes, he felt tears prick against his
lids.  He did not want to lose Tom from his life, but keeping him in it might
end up being just as painful.
                                      **
After returning to their room, Dennis had found Tom fast asleep.  Standing at
the end of the bed, he stared at Tom’s battered face.  He felt an overwhelming
sense of guilt when he noticed the fresh bruising under Tom’s eyes.  Everything
had turned to shit and he was ultimately responsible.  If he had kept his
feelings for Tom hidden, nothing would have happened.  Sighing heavily, he
grabbed a spare blanket from the wardrobe and curling up on the battered
armchair, he fell into a fitful sleep.  He awoke several times in the night to
check on Tom but each time he found him asleep.  Eventually allowing his
tortured mind to relax, he fell into a deep, coma like slumber.
Booker awoke to the sound of thunder.  Hearing the traffic noise rising up from
the street below, he knew he must have slept late.  Painfully extricating
himself from his cramped sleeping position, his eyes searched the room for
Tom.  His heart began to pound when he realized that the room was empty. 
Standing up and hobbling to the bathroom, he saw that it too was vacant. 
Rubbing at a painful crick in his neck, he tried not to panic.  Tom might have
gone out to buy breakfast, or he could be downstairs talking to Morty.  Booker
rapidly searched the untidy room for any clues as to Tom’s whereabouts.  His
eyes eventually settled on a torn piece of burger wrapper lying on the
nightstand.  Picking it up, Dennis’ heart sank as he read the barely legible
scrawl:  I fuked up.  Im sorry.  Dont look fore me.  I dont want to be fownd.
“Oh Tommy,” Booker whispered, as he reread the note.  Looking around the room,
he saw Tom’s bag and clothing were gone but the trench coat lay across the end
of the bed.  Searching through his own jacket pocket, he found the money he had
made the day before.  Counting it, he realized that no money was missing.  That
meant that Tom was on the streets, alone and penniless. 
Ignoring his growling stomach, Booker grabbed up his jacket and headed out onto
the bustling city streets in search of his friend.
***** Finding Forgiveness *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: Booker awoke to the sound of thunder.  Hearing the
     traffic noise rising up from the street below, he knew he must have
     slept late.  Painfully extricating himself from his cramped sleeping
     position, his eyes searched the room for Tom.  His heart began to
     pound when he realized that the room was empty.  Standing up and
     hobbling to the bathroom, he saw that it too was vacant.  Rubbing at
     a painful crick in his neck, he tried not to panic.  Tom might have
     gone out to buy breakfast, or he could be downstairs talking to
     Morty.  Booker rapidly searched the untidy room for any clues as to
     Tom’s whereabouts.  His eyes eventually settled on a torn piece of
     burger wrapper lying on the nightstand.  Picking it up, Dennis’ heart
     sank as he read the barely legible scrawl: I fuked up.  Im sorry. 
     Dont look fore me.  I dont want to be fownd.
     “Oh Tommy,” Booker whispered, as he reread the note.  Looking around
     the room, he saw Tom’s bag and clothing were gone but the trench coat
     lay across the end of the bed.  Searching through his own jacket
     pocket, he found the money he had made the day before.  Counting it,
     he realized that no money was missing.  That meant that Tom was on
     the streets, alone and penniless. 
     Ignoring his growling stomach, Booker grabbed up his jacket and
     headed out onto the bustling city streets in search of his friend.
Finding_Forgiveness 
Standing on a street corner several blocks from The Exeter, Tom shivered with
cold, as a heavy rain soaked through his thin clothing.  Lightning tore open
the sky as loud claps of thunder sounded overhead.  More than anything, he
wished he were back inside the hotel, safe and warm, with Booker for company. 
He quickly pushed his self-pitying thoughts aside.   If he were to survive on
the streets alone, he needed to toughen up.  He had to accept that he no longer
had Booker to take care of him.  His number one priority now was to make
money.  There was no reason why he could not stay on his own in one of the
cheap hotels, he did not have to rough it on the streets at night.  As much as
he hated it, he was well aware that he had an advantage over most male
prostitutes.  He was young, slim and pretty.  Not what most boys would want to
be but in his current situation, it was almost a blessing.  Now all he needed
was for someone to notice him.
A familiar brown Datsun pulled up to the curb.  Tom smiled.  Good ol’ Reliable
Robbie to the rescue, he thought.  At least he knew what to expect from the
man.  There would be no nasty surprises waiting for him this time and maybe he
could just lay back and try to enjoy the sex.  He was desperate for someone to
show him love.  He needed someone to hold and caress him and tell him that
everything would be all right.  Robbie Werner was just the man to do all of
that.
Avoiding the overflowing gutter, Tom leaned forward and opened the car door. 
Robbie greeted him with a smile.  “Hop in out of the rain Tommy,” he invited
cheerfully.  “Let’s go someplace dry.”
Grateful to be out of the rain, Tom buckled up his seat belt and gave Werner
his sweetest smile.  “Whatever you say Robbie, it’ll be a hundred bucks.”
Robbie laughed pleasantly.  “A hundred dollars!  Last time it was seventy.”
“Yeah well,” Tom smiled back, “I’ve decided to give myself a pay rise.”
Looking Tom up and down, Robbie knew he would pay double to have the pretty,
young boy in his bed again.  Nodding his agreement, he drove to the same hotel
he had taken Tom to previously.  Paying for the room, he whispered something to
the hotel clerk and taking his key, he escorted Tom up the stairs.
As Robbie unlocked the door, a feeling of déjà vu had Tom pausing in the
doorway.  A wave of nausea washed over him and closing his eyes, he steadied
himself against the doorjamb.   He felt Robbie’s arm around his shoulder and
opening his eyes, he managed a weak smile.  “Sorry, guess I’m a little hungry
and it’s making me dizzy.”
Smiling sympathetically, Robbie took Tom’s hand and led him into an almost
identical room to the one they had been in before.  Pulling out his wallet, he
handed Tom two, crisp fifty-dollar bills.  Tom took them and shoved them in his
pocket with a slight nod of thanks.  Pulling off his bandanna, he threw it onto
the floor and started to undress.  Naked except for his boxers, he walked over
to the bed but before he could lie down, Robbie laid a hand on his shoulder. 
“How about, before we get started, you take a shower, I’ll get your clothes dry
and we’ll order a pizza,” Robbie suggested, as his gaze traveled the length of
Tom’s body.
Tom’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.  “Why?” he asked warily, “I thought you just
wanted to fuck me.”
Werner gave a reassuring smile.  “I do, but as I am now paying forty percent
more, I think that entitles me to a little extra time, don’t you?”
Giving it some thought, Tom could find no reason not to take Robbie at his
word.  “Okay,” he replied, “But I want pepperoni.”
Robbie smiled before answering in a low, enticing voice, “Fine, but I get to
join you in the shower.”
Tom rubbed his hand nervously over his lips before nodding his agreement.  He
waited until Werner had dialed the local pizza bar and placed an order before
walking into the bathroom.  He heard the room door open and close as Robbie
took his wet clothing down to the hotel clerk.  He stood waiting until he heard
Werner re-enter the room.  Pushing has damp hair off his face; he slipped off
his boxers and turned on the faucets just as a naked Robbie entered the
bathroom.  Blushing slightly, Tom stepped under the warm stream of water and
waited for Robbie to join him.  He jumped slightly when he felt Robbie’s hands
on his hips.  “Shh,” Werner whispered against Tom’s neck as he stood behind
him, “You’re a good boy Tommy, a very good boy.”  Rubbing his hands over
Tommy’s bruised skin, Robbie’s tone became soothing, “I would never hurt you,
you know that.”
Tom felt Robbie’s smooth hands travel down his chest to his stomach before
making their way back up.  He could feel the man’s erect cock pushing against
him and for a moment, he forgot to breathe.  He gasped when he felt a hand
gently stroke his cock, bringing it to life.  He braced his hands against the
white tiled wall, as Robbie caressed, and tugged at his growing erection.  His
breath hitched as a finger entered his hole, followed by a second.  Werner
whispered in his ear, telling him to relax and enjoy it.  Tom’s head hung down
as the warm water cascaded over his body.  As Robbie removed his probing
fingers, Tom suddenly panicked.  Looking quickly over his shoulder, he sighed
in relief when he saw Robbie’s cock sheathed in a black condom.  He turned his
head back to the wall and closed his eyes.  He could feel Robbie pushing
against him, trying to gain access.  He bit down on his lip as Werner’s cock
thrust past his tight wall of muscle.  Robbie groaned in pleasure when he felt
himself finally enter Tom’s body.  Bracing one arm against the wall, he rocked
his hips forward and backwards, as his free hand tugged at Tom’s erection. 
Finding his rhythm, he increased his pace, gasping heavily as his arousal
grew.  Tom’s eyes flew open.  “FUCK!” he cried out as Robbie’s cock slammed
against his prostate.  Robbie grunted loudly at Tom’s obvious enjoyment and his
thrusting intensified.  He tugged harder at Tommy’s cock and gained his reward
when he heard a scream of pleasure and felt warm semen trickle through his
fingers.  Two thrusts later and he too reached orgasm.  Shuddering with
pleasure, he waited for his climax to diminish, before withdrawing from Tom’s
body.
Pulling off his condom, Robbie threw it into the sink.  Taking a brief moment
to run his hands once again over Tom’s slender body, he sighed with
satisfaction and stepped out of the shower.  Grabbing a towel, he quickly dried
himself off before reaching over and turning off the faucets.  “Come on,” he
said to Tom softly, “Let’s get you dry.”
Tom stepped out of the shower and stood submissively as Robbie slowly rubbed a
towel over his body.  When he was dry, Werner wrapped the towel around Tom’s
narrow waist and taking him by the hand, he led him back to the bedroom. 
Standing in the middle of the room, Tom wondered what he was supposed to do. 
He had no clothing and Robbie Werner had already had his way with him.  He
wondered how long between orgasms a man needed before he was able to get
another erection.  Looking at the bedside clock, he saw that forty-five minutes
had already passed.  He had no idea how long Werner expected him to stay.  He
figured once his clothing had dried and he had eaten his pizza he would be able
to go.  With a sigh, he sat on the bed and watched Robbie dress.  His stomach
grumbled with hunger and just as he was about to ask Robbie how long it would
be until the pizza arrived, a loud knock on the door cut him off.
Strapping on his Rolex, Robbie walked to the door and opened it just a crack. 
Tommy could hear a whispered conversation and he immediately felt vulnerable. 
Looking quickly around the room, he picked up the bedside lamp in case he
needed a weapon to defend himself.  As the door opened, his fingers slid from
the base and the lamp fell to the floor.  “Booker?” he whispered, as Dennis
entered the room.  “What are you doing here?”
Tears pricked at Booker’s lids when he saw Tommy standing next to the bed,
dressed only in a towel.  Rushing forward, he threw his arms around his
startled friend and gave him a tight squeeze.  Pulling away, his face quickly
darkened and he gave Tom a hard thump on the shoulder.  “Why the fuck did you
leave?  You scared the hell out of me!”
Rubbing at his shoulder, Tommy lowered his gaze.  “Sorry,” he muttered, “I
thought you’d be better off without me.”
“Jesus Tommy!” Booker cried as he ran his fingers through his hair in
frustration.  “We had a fight, that’s all.  It’s what happens with friends
sometimes.  It doesn’t mean you run off into the night without saying goodbye. 
You sit down and talk about it.  Understand?”
“Sorry,” Tom mumbled again. 
Seeing his friend’s discomfort, Booker softened his tone.  Placing a hand on
Tom’s shoulder, he lifted Tom’s chin with the other.  “Promise me you’ll never
run off again.  If you ever want to leave, tell me first okay?”
Tom’s eyes misted with tears and he nodded his head.  He pulled Booker into a
tight hug and both boys stood silently embracing for a full minute before Tommy
gently disengaged.  “How did you find me?” he asked, as a second knock on the
door sounded.
“That would be because of me,” Robbie answered as he opened the door to the
pizza deliveryman.  After paying for the pizza, Werner closed the door and
walked over to the bed.  Putting down the box, he picked up his coat.  “I’ll
let Booker explain,” he continued, as he headed for the door.  “Stay in the
room for as long as you like, it’s paid for.  Enjoy the pizza and Tommy… thank
you for another pleasurable encounter.  I look forward to next time.”  Bowing
slightly, he walked from the room.
Tommy and Booker stared at each other until Tom burst out laughing.  His
laughter was infectious and soon Booker was laughing too.  Wiping tears from
his eyes, Tommy grabbed a slice of pizza.  “He’s a little weird, don’t you
think?” he commented on Werner.
Booker smiled, “Yeah, but he treats us street kids okay, all things
considered.”
Tom nodded as he gobbled down his second piece of pie.  “So, tell me how you
found me.”
Booker laid down his slice of pizza, his face becoming serious.  “I was
frantic; I had no idea where you’d gone.  When I was walking down the street,
Werner pulled over and asked me if I was available.  I told him I was looking
for you and he said he would keep a look out and if he found you, he’d take you
to a hotel and get someone there to phone The Exeter.  It just worked out that
Morty took the call when I was standing right outside.  He told me where you
were and I came over.”  Booker lowered his eyes and his voice went quiet.  “I
didn’t know that Robbie meant to… you know, otherwise I would have asked him
not to.”
Tom shrugged as he continued to eat his food.  “It doesn’t matter, I made a
hundred bucks and…” he ducked his head shyly, “I kind of enjoyed it.”
“Kind of?” Booker teased as he saw Tom’s face reddening with embarrassment. 
“I’ve been with Reliable Robbie, I know how good it feels. “
A third knock at the door had the hotel clerk delivering Tom’s clothing.  With
the pizza now finished, Tom stood up and dressed.  He felt Booker’s gaze upon
him but he did not mind.  His thoughts about sex were changing.  It was not all
about violence and rape.  He was starting to see that there was a lot to take
pleasure in, if you found the right person. 
Watching Booker as he picked up the discarded lamp and placed it on the
nightstand, Tom realized that Dennis might just be that person.
***** Into the Light *****
Chapter Notes
     Thanks to everyone who is reading, it means a lot that you take the
     time to give me KUDOS :)  Feel free to review too, all feedback is
     welcome.
     Previously: A third knock at the door had the hotel clerk delivering
     Tom’s clothing.  With the pizza now finished, Tom stood up and
     dressed.  He felt Booker’s gaze upon him but he did not mind.  His
     thoughts about sex were changing.  It was not all about violence and
     rape.  He was starting to see that there was a lot to take pleasure
     in, if you found the right person. 
     Watching Booker as he picked up the discarded lamp and placed it on
     the nightstand, Tom realized that Dennis might just be that person.
Into_the_Light 
Arriving back at The Exeter, both boys were soaked through from the storm that
raged through the city.   Taking off his jacket, Booker shivered as he threw it
over the back of a chair to dry.  Pulling off his t-shirt, he tossed it onto
the floor.  As he turned around, he caught Tommy eyeing him up and down.  A
pink flush of embarrassment crept up his face as he rummaged through his
clothing, trying to find something to put on.
“What?” Tom asked, as his eyes danced mischievously even though his body
trembled with cold.   “Are you the only one who gets to perv?”
Booker’s blush turned bright red as he stuttered his denial, “I’ve n-never
looked Tommy, honest.  I n-nev—”
“Yeah you have,” Tom replied softly, “I don’t mind Booker, honest… and not
because I feel I owe you anything, I… I think I like you looking at me like
that.”
Dennis stared at Tom open mouthed.  In a clumsy, fifteen-year-old way, Tom was
flirting with him.  He swallowed nervously as he raked his fingers through his
damp hair.  This was exactly what he had yearned for but now that it had
happened, he was too afraid to let Tommy see exactly how he felt.  The last
thing he wanted was to scare Tom away by coming on too strong.  He knew that
Tom’s emotional state was fragile and that he could easily change his mind in a
blink of an eye.  Realizing that he would have to let Tom set the pace, Dennis
sighed with disappointment.  For a fraction of a second, he had thought that he
would finally get to show Tom the love he deserved.  Now he knew he needed to
wait patiently for Tom to act upon any feelings that were slowly starting to
develop.  Inwardly composing himself, he gave Tom a smile.  “So we agree? 
Looking is okay?” he asked cheekily.
It was Tom’s turn to blush.  Casting his eyes downwards, he smiled shyly as his
body continued to quiver.  “Yeah, looking is okay.”
Giving Tom a smile, Booker walked into the bathroom and closed the door, his
heart hammering in his chest.  As he kicked off his boots, he heard a light rap
at the bathroom door.  He opened it to see Tom shivering in front of him.  “Um,
could I have a towel so I can dry off,” Tom asked as his teeth began to chatter
uncontrollably.
Laughing, Booker pulled his friend into the bathroom.  “You shower first, I can
wait,” he replied.  Tom smiled his appreciation as he quickly began to
undress.  Booker leaned against the door as he watched Tom unashamedly.  When
his friend entered the shower cubicle, he did not close the curtain and Dennis
took it as another hint that Tom wanted him to watch.  His eyes traveled down
Tommy’s wet, naked body and he felt his cock starting to twitch.  As Tom soaped
up his skin, Booker’s cock swelled and he shoved his hand deep into his pocket
so he could secretly stroke his growing erection.  His gaze remained transfixed
on Tom’s slender, naked form and he let out a barely audible moan as his cock
strained against the confines of his jeans.  He jumped slightly at the sound of
the faucets turning off and shaking his head slightly, he quickly pulled out
his hand.  As Tom stepped out onto the tiled floor, Booker hurriedly crossed
both hands across his groin, in a vain attempt to conceal his arousal. 
Standing in front of him, Tom pushed his dripping hair back from eyes as he
smiled entrancingly.  “Your turn,” he invited softly before taking a towel from
the rail and beginning to dry off.  Booker felt his face once again burn
scarlet.  He could feel his throbbing cock aching for release.  He was well
aware if he stripped off, Tom would see his arousal and know it was from
watching him in the shower.  Even knowing that Tom had given him permission to
watch did not make it any easier.  He felt like a voyeur who had been caught
masturbating whilst peeping through a window.  Humiliation washed over him and
he quickly turned away, tears of shame glistening in his eyes.  As he searched
blindly for the door handle, Tom laid a gentle hand on his naked shoulder. 
“It’s okay Dennis,” Tom whispered and at the unfamiliar sound of his given
name, Booker turned around in surprise.  Staring into Tom’s deep brown eyes, he
saw only understanding. 
Booker smiled back apologetically.  “I’m so sorry Tommy,” he muttered, “It’s
just… you’re so damn beautiful and—”
“You’re a sixteen-year-old boy and most stimulation is gonna bring on a
reaction, ‘cause it’s all about hormones and stuff,” Tom quoted back Booker's
words with a smile of amusement.  Sensing that Booker was still overwrought, he
stopped teasing and put an arm around his friend’s shoulder, giving it a light
squeeze.  “I get it and I don’t care, honest.  I knew you were watching me and
it felt… it felt exciting.”
“Really?” Booker asked in amazement.  “It doesn’t bother you that I get—”
“Nope,” Tom answered quickly, not sure that he really wanted to hear Booker say
the words aloud.  The sexual feelings that were developing for Booker were a
new experience.  At home, he always tried to remain unnoticed so his father
would leave him alone.  Now he was openly flaunting his body in front of
another male, all the while knowing that it turned Booker on but not feeling
emotionally equipped to take it to the next level.  Slowly, it dawned on him
that he was what his father called a prick tease.  It was his turn to feel
mortified.  “Jesus,” he muttered as he stared into Dennis’ face with eyes full
of shame, “Booker I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have strutted around naked in front
of you when I can’t give you what you want.”  Tears brimmed over as his eyes
pleaded with Booker for forgiveness. 
It was Dennis’ turn to offer comfort.  He pulled Tom into a loving embrace. 
“Don’t cry Tommy,” he whispered, “I know you aren’t ready to have a
relationship with me but there’s no harm in taking pleasure from looking is
there?  Not if we both enjoy it.  I would never push you into doing anything
you didn’t want to.  So I’m leaving it up to you, whenever you’re ready,
whatever you want to do, I’m here, okay?”
Tom lifted his head and stared deep into Booker’s dark eyes.  He wanted
desperately for Booker to kiss him but he did not know how to give the signal
and he was too unsure to initiate the kiss himself.  Instead, he smiled and
nodded as he pulled away from Booker’s arms.
“Are we good?” Dennis asked quietly, searching Tom’s face for any signs of
remorse.
“We’re good,” Tom replied in a barely audible voice.  They stood in an
uncomfortable silence for several minutes before Tom spoke, “Um, you’d better
have a shower before you freeze to death.”
Dennis nodded and hanging onto the sink for support, he peeled off his wet
jeans.  He paused for a moment before pulling off his boxers and throwing them
on the floor.  He felt the warmth of Tom’s gaze upon him and his semi erect
penis began to twitch back to life.  Stepping into the shower, he turned on the
faucets but left the curtains open.  He could hear Tom’s heavy breathing behind
him and his cock began to swell.  Now, more than ever, he wanted to take his
throbbing member in his hand and bring himself to orgasm.  He dared to let his
fingers lightly brush over his engorged head as he bit down heavily on his lip
to prevent himself from crying out.  A soft moaning sounded in his ears, and
for a moment, he thought he had voiced his own pleasure.  But as the moaning
continued, he realized it was Tom.  Turning his head, he saw Tom leaning
against the door, his hand inside the opening of the towel wrapped around his
waist, gently tugging at his own growing erection.  At the erotic sight, Booker
could no longer contain himself.  “Tommy,” he moaned, as his own hand started
working back and forth over his own cock.
Their eyes met; both boys’ pupils now fully dilated as they jerked off in
rhythm, each moaning their pleasure at the sight of the other masturbating. 
Booker felt his orgasm rising and his pace quickened.  As his climax hit, his
eyes widened and he cried out Tom’s name as warm semen covered his hand and
mixed with the warm water, before flowing down the drain.
Hearing Dennis’ vocal release, it only took Tom another few seconds before his
own orgasm hit hard.  “Fuuuck!” he screamed, as he ejaculated over his
fingers.  His body shuddered at the thrill of his stimulation and a pleasant
warmth washed over his body.  Panting heavily, he wiped his hand on his towel
as he watched Dennis bask in his own post orgasmic bliss. 
Catching Booker’s eye, Tom gave a shy grin.  Booker smiled back and turning off
the shower, he stepped out into the bathroom.  Still dripping wet, he pulled
Tom into his arms and held him close.  Tom laid his head on Dennis’ shoulder,
wrapping his arms around his friend’s waist.  The two boys remained motionless
for several minutes before silently pulling apart. 
Booker quickly dried off before taking Tom’s hand and leading him into the
bedroom.  Throwing off his towel, he pulled back the covers and climbed into
bed.  Tom paused for a moment before dropping his own towel and getting in
under the covers.  Laying his head on Booker’s smooth chest, Tom felt a
protective arm wrap around his shoulders and gentle fingers begin to stroke his
arm.  Closing his eyes, Tom took comfort in Dennis’ nurturing embrace.  Letting
out a contented sigh, his eyelids grew heavy and he slowly drifted into a deep,
peaceful sleep.
 
***** It Started With a Kiss *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: Catching Booker’s eye, Tom gave a shy grin.  Booker
     smiled back and turning off the shower, he stepped out into the
     bathroom.  Still dripping wet, he pulled Tom into his arms and held
     him close.  Tom laid his head on Dennis’ shoulder, wrapping his arms
     around his friend’s waist.  The two boys remained motionless for
     several minutes before silently pulling apart.   Booker quickly dried
     off before taking Tom’s hand and leading him into the bedroom. 
     Throwing off his towel, he pulled back the covers and climbed into
     bed.  Tom paused for a moment before dropping his own towel and
     getting in under the covers.  Laying his head on Booker’s smooth
     chest, Tom felt a protective arm wrap around his shoulders and gentle
     fingers begin to stroke his arm.  Closing his eyes, Tom took comfort
     in Dennis’ nurturing embrace.  Letting out a contented sigh, his
     eyelids grew heavy and he slowly drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.
It_Started_With_a_Kiss 
Autumn gradually turned into winter and soliciting on the streets became an
uncomfortable and slightly less profitable profession.  Tom had a standing
twice-weekly appointment with Robbie Werner but the remainder of the time the
boys spent on the street corners, patiently waiting for a proposition. 
Crouching in a freezing alleyway giving a client a blowjob whilst the wind
howled around him and the cold rain soaked through his clothing, made Tom even
more miserable than he usually felt after being mouth-fucked by a stranger.  He
almost preferred going to a hotel so a john could fuck his body until it hurt;
at least it was warm and he could usually shower afterwards. 
Booker coped better mentally than Tom, but he too hated the severity of the
wintry weather.   He had several regulars that were not too demanding but to
make ends meet he also had to service several men who liked to use their fists
as well as their dicks.  During the warmer months, he could afford to be choosy
but once the weather turned, it became harder to find customers, as most men
did not casually wander the streets looking for vulnerable runaways to prey
upon.  The bruising on Booker’s face became an almost permanent tattoo of the
abuse he endured just so he and Tommy could keep a roof over their heads and
food in their stomachs.   Booker was pleased that Tommy had a regular in
Reliable Robbie.  It helped to spare the teenager from the violence of the
streets.  But there were no guarantees on the harsh city streets and Tom often
came home sporting a black eye or a bloody nose from an overzealous john who
thought it fun to beat up a fifteen-year-old.
Once safely locked in their room at The Exeter, both boys found gratification
in watching each other shower.  It had become an almost daily ritual, a way to
release their private, sexual desires.  Afterwards, they climbed naked into bed
and held each other close until they fell asleep.  Neither boy attempted to
take the relationship to the next level, although Booker had to use all the
willpower he possessed not to throw Tommy onto the bed and fuck him long and
hard.  He had promised he would let Tom take control of their relationship and
he would not go back on his word, no matter how difficult it was.  He took his
pleasure in seeing Tom naked.  Both boys made the moment last, masturbating
slowly and deliberately, their eyes never leaving each other’s bodies.  Their
climaxes were vocal and intense, both usually attaining release within moments
of the other, their bodies shuddering violently as they cried out their
pleasure in unison.   Neither boy spoke about how it made them feel.  They just
accepted that it was something they did, a way to get through the horrors of
the day and experience something that made them feel good instead of it always
being about pleasuring others.  Neither boy felt guilty about the hedonistic
indulgence that gave each of them so much enjoyment.
After an unusually lucrative day on the streets, Booker’s mood was buoyant.  As
he entered their hotel room, his emotional high plummeted when he saw Tom
sitting on the edge of the bed wiping at his bloodied nose with a wad of toilet
paper.  Hurrying over, he squatted down next to his friend and carefully
surveyed the damage.  Tom’s eye already showed signs of bruising and Dennis
felt his temper rising.  Whilst he accepted his own physical abuse at the hands
of some clients as just part of the job, he could never understand why anyone
would want to damage Tom’s beautiful face.  Standing up, he walked into the
bathroom and pulled off several squares of toilet paper.  Dampening them under
the faucet, he returned to his position on the floor.  Tenderly lifting Tom’s
head, he gently daubed at the blood trickling from Tom’s nostril.  “Who did
this?” he asked angrily, “I’m fucking sick of this bullshit.”
Tom flinched slightly as Booker’s ire caused his ministrations to become heavy
handed.  Grabbing the wadded up paper from his friend’s hand, he placed it on
the bedside table.  “I dunno, just some guy I gave a blowjob to.  I guess he
didn’t like my technique,” Tom joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.
“It’s not funny Tommy,” Booker snapped, “You need to be more careful.  One day
some john’s gonna go too far and you’ll end up—”
“Dead? Tom retorted.  “But it’s okay for you, huh.  Look in the mirror Booker,
your face is a mess.”
Dennis knew it was true.  He should not be lecturing Tom on the dangers of the
street when he himself took risks regularly just to make extra money.  Sighing
wearily, he stood up and picking up the bloodied toilet paper, he walked into
the bathroom and closed the door behind him. 
Tom heard the toilet flush, then the sound of the shower.  A feeling of sadness
washed over him; Booker had shut him out.  Neither boy showered without the
other watching, that had become their ritual since their first encounter
several weeks before.  Closing his eyes, he held his aching head in his hands
as he fought back tears.  It was not that he wanted to be some john’s punching
bag.  The blow had been unexpected, sending him crashing back onto the cold,
wet pavement of the narrow alleyway.  He felt foolish for not sensing that he
was about to be attacked.  One of the first lessons Booker had taught him was
be alert and never let your guard down. 
Hearing the bathroom door open, Tom lifted his head.  His eyes widened when he
saw Booker standing naked in the doorway, his hand held out in front of him. 
Standing up, Tom moved forward and taking Dennis’ fingers in his own he gave
them a squeeze.  Booker pulled him close as he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“Can I come in?” Tom murmured, his cock beginning to twitch at the thought of
watching Booker shower.  Dennis nodded and pulled Tom into the bathroom. 
Before Tom could begin to undress, Booker grabbed the bottom of Tom’s t-shirt
and slowly pulled it over his head.  Gazing at Tom’s naked torso, Booker waited
whilst Tom kicked off his boots and pulled off his socks.  Tom’s breathing
became heavy as Dennis deliberately took his time unbuttoning his jeans before
unhurriedly pulling down the zipper.  Letting his denims fall to the floor, Tom
stepped free of the fabric, his eyes never leaving Booker’s face.  Dennis
smiled mischievously as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of Tom’s boxers
and slowly pulled them down so they dropped to the floor.  Leaning forward, he
whispered into Tom’s ear, “Shower with me.”
A shiver of anticipation ran through Tom’s body and his pupils dilated as his
arousal intensified.  Nodding his assent, he allowed Booker to guide him to the
cubicle.  The two boys stood facing each other as Dennis turned on the faucets
and the warm water cascaded over their tired bodies.  They stood transfixed,
staring deep into each other’s dark eyes.  As his cock began to swell, Tom knew
the time had finally come.  He craved more; he needed more.  Sucking in his
breath, he placed a hand against Booker’s face.  Leaning forward, he brushed
his lips lightly against Dennis’ seductive pout.  His stomach flip-flopped at
the sensation that ran through his body from his first ever kiss.  Booker’s
eyes widened in surprise and Tom smiled at his reaction.  Their second kiss was
gentle, almost chaste as Tom pulled Booker closer.   His lips parted and he
allowed Dennis’ tongue to gain access.  Slowly they explored each other’s
mouths, their tongues intertwining as their passion grew.  Booker’s hands slid
down Tom’s slippery body, stopping to rest on his narrow hips before moving
down and cupping his buttocks.  Tom groaned loudly as Booker pulled him close,
pressing their bodies together.  Holding Tom against him, Booker slowly moved
his body up and down, giving their erections the friction they needed to grow. 
Their tongues clashed violently as their desire became stronger.  As his fervor
intensified, Booker immediately forgot his promise to Tom.  Moving his hand, he
took hold of Tom’s cock and began to pull it with slow, even strokes.  Tom
cried out and dropping his head, he bit down onto the delicate flesh between
Booker’s neck and shoulder.  A pleasurable pain shot through Booker’s body and
he groaned loudly as his cock began to weep heavily.  Reaching down, he found
Tom’s hand and guided it to his aching erection.  He felt Tom’s fingers
hesitate for a fraction of a second before wrapping around his engorged cock. 
As their hands moved in a frantic rhythmic motion, Tom’s lips once again found
Booker’s mouth.  They kissed passionately, nipping and sucking at each other’s
lips as their heavy panting rent the moist air.  Tom felt his orgasm rising and
he started to gasp, “Oh fuck… Oh Dennis… Harder… Harder… HAAARDERRR!”  A wave
of euphoria flooded through Tom’s body and he trembled violently as he
ejaculated over Booker’s fingers. 
Hearing his name cried out in the throes of passion, Dennis’ release hit hard
and he spilled his semen over Tom’s hand.  His body shuddered as he pulled Tom
close.  “Jesus Tommy…” he whispered against Tom’s ear as he struggled for
breath.  “That felt sooo… fucking… good.”
Tom smiled against Booker’s neck as his breathing slowly returned to normal. 
Lifting his head, he sucked lovingly on Booker’s lower lip before pulling away
and smiling shyly.  Booker returned Tom’s smile before turning off the shower. 
Taking Tom’s hand, they stepped out onto the tiled floor of the bathroom. 
Unable to contain himself, Booker pressed his lips against Tom’s and he kissed
him tenderly.   Feeling goose bumps rising on Tom’s flesh, Dennis pulled away
and grabbing a towel, he slowly rubbed Tom’s quivering body before toweling
himself dry.  Once again taking Tom by the hand, Booker led him to the bed. 
Lying down, they kissed lovingly for several minutes.  Tom’s eyes grew heavy
and he dropped his head back onto the pillow as Booker covered his throat in
soft, butterfly kisses.  “Are you happy?” Dennis murmured against Tom’s pale
skin.
“Fuck yeah,” Tom breathed sleepily, as a small smile played on his lips.  “I
guess this means I now have a boyfriend.”
A soft tingling sensation flowed through Booker’s body.  “I guess it does,” he
replied affectionately, as he smiled down at his lover. 
Closing his eyes, Tom felt an inner peace envelop him.  It had been a long time
since he had known love.  Feeling Dennis’ lips softly fluttering over his
throat, he once again believed that he was worthy of the emotion.  He deserved
to feel loved and now that he had Booker, he knew he would never feel alone
again.
 
***** Love Hurts *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: Tom smiled against Booker’s neck as his breathing slowly
     returned to normal.  Lifting his head, he sucked lovingly on Booker’s
     lower lip before pulling away and smiling shyly.  Booker returned
     Tom’s smile before turning off the shower.  Taking Tom’s hand, they
     stepped out onto the tiled floor of the bathroom.  Unable to contain
     himself, Booker pressed his lips against Tom’s and he kissed him
     tenderly.   Feeling goose bumps rising on Tom’s flesh, Dennis pulled
     away and grabbing a towel, he slowly rubbed Tom’s quivering body
     before toweling himself dry.  One again taking Tom by the hand,
     Booker led him to the bed.  Lying down, they kissed lovingly for
     several minutes.  Tom’s eyes grew heavy and he dropped his head back
     onto the pillow as Booker covered his throat in soft, butterfly
     kisses.  “Are you happy?” Dennis murmured against Tom’s pale skin. 
     “Fuck yeah,” Tom breathed sleepily, as a small smile played on his
     lips.  “I guess this means I now have a boyfriend.” A soft tingling
     sensation flowed through Booker’s body.  “I guess it does,” he
     replied affectionately, as he smiled down at his lover.   Closing his
     eyes, Tom felt an inner peace envelop him.  It had been a long time
     since he had known love.  Feeling Dennis’ lips softly fluttering over
     his throat, he once again believed that he was worthy of the
     emotion.  He deserved to feel loved and now that he had Booker, he
     knew he would never feel alone again.
Love_Hurts 
Dennis and Tom spent the next month battling the elements in a desperate
attempt to make enough money to keep them off the freezing streets.  As the
temperatures plummeted, a heavy, persistent snow fell from the leaden sky. 
Finding work became increasingly difficult and the two runaways often went to
bed with their empty stomachs growling in protest.  Their only pleasure came
from each other’s bodies.  They stroked and fondled each other until they found
their release and during that time, their pain remained briefly forgotten. 
Booker hoped their relationship would become more physical but Tom seemed happy
with the way things were, so he did not push.  It was difficult at times, to
keep control of his desires.  He desperately wanted to make love to Tom, to
show him how different fucking felt when it was between two people who loved
each other.  He knew Tommy had learnt to enjoy sex with Robbie Werner but it
was not the same.  Reliable Robbie did not love Tom, he desired Tom.  Booker’s
feelings for Tom were all consuming; he had never felt such strong emotions for
another human being before.   His heart skipped a beat every time he looked
into Tom’s big, brown eyes and he knew that he would lay down his life for his
lover.  Sometimes he chuckled to himself at how soppy and emotional he had
become since meeting Tommy McQuaid.  His only explanation for it was that love
was indeed, a very funny thing.
Arriving back at the hotel one afternoon after an appointment with Robbie
Werner, Tom found Booker hunched over the bathroom sink trying to stem the flow
of blood that poured from his broken nose.  Alarmed at the amount of blood, Tom
raced downstairs and begged Morty to help his friend.  Grabbing an ice pack
from the kitchen freezer, Morty followed the distressed teen up the creaking
staircase.  Helping Booker to sit down on the cold, tiled floor, Morty
instructed him to lean forward and pinch his nostrils closed.  Placing the cold
pack on the back of Dennis’ neck, he waited patiently for the flow of blood to
diminish.  Twenty minutes later and Booker felt well enough to stand up. 
Checking his reflection in the mirror, Dennis sighed in relief to see that
although he had swelling and his eyes were black, his nose remained straight. 
Behind him, Tom’s pale, worried face stared back at him.  Turning, he attempted
a reassuring smile but Tom looked away as his lower lip began to quiver. 
Assured that Booker was in no immediate danger, Morty left the two boys alone. 
When Dennis attempted to speak, Tom ignored him and walked away.  Letting out a
deep sigh, Booker washed the blood from his face and hands before following Tom
into the bedroom.  He found his friend standing at the window, watching as
crisp, white snow blanketed the ground.  Standing behind him, Booker placed his
arms around Tom’s waist and laid his chin on his shoulder.  He felt Tom’s body
stiffen under his touch before he pulled away and walked over to the bed. 
Turning around, Dennis watched as Tom took off his boots before lying on the
bed and closing his eyes.  Not really in the mood for an argument but feeling
the need to ease the tension in the room, Booker sat down on the edge of the
bed and placed his hand on Tom’s thigh.  “I’m okay Tommy, it looks worse than
it is,” he reassured.
Opening his eyes, Tom stared back angrily.  “Why do you keep going with those
men when you know they’re gonna hurt you?” he demanded.   “Is it ‘cause you
like being hit?”
“Like it?” Booker snapped back as his rage slowly escalated.  “Do you really
think I get pleasure from getting my face smashed in?  Why the fuck do you
think I keep doing this, huh?  I do it for us you ungrateful little shit.  We
don’t all have a Robbie Werner taking care of us.”
“Is that my fault?” Tom yelled back.  “You’re the one who wanted me to go with
him.  What’s your fucking problem, are you jealous ‘cause you know he makes me
come?”
Dennis slapped Tom hard across the face.  Seeing Tom’s expression of horror, he
immediately felt remorse.  “Oh God Tommy I’m sorry!” he cried as he attempted
to pull his lover into his arm. 
Tom jerked angrily away and as he climbed from the bed, he threw Dennis a look
of disgust.  “If you ever lay a hand on me again you’ll fucking regret it,” he
whispered menacingly.  Pulling on his boots, he grabbed his coat and stormed
out of the room, slamming the door in his wake.
Covering his face in his hands, Dennis started to sob uncontrollably.  He had
thought that when he met Tommy his life would become less painful but in truth,
it had become more so.  Caring so deeply for another human being hurt in ways
that Booker could never have imagined.  The ache in his heart was unbearable;
he hated himself for causing Tom so much unnecessary pain.  Curling up on the
bed, he continued to weep until he fell into an exhausted sleep.
                                      **
Tom arrived home several hours later to find Booker lying motionless on the
bed, staring at the window.  Setting a half-eaten pizza in its box onto the
bedside table, he sat on the bed and pulled off his snow stained boots.  Lying
down, he placed a cold hand on Booker’s arm.  “Hey,” he murmured as his fingers
lightly stroked Dennis’ skin, “I bought pizza if you want some.”
“I’m not hungry,” Booker’s muffled voice replied.
“Yeah you are, you’re always hungry,” Tom quipped in an attempt to lighten the
mood.  When Booker did not reply, Tom snuggled in close to Dennis as his hands
began to move up and down Booker’s body.  “If you don’t wanna eat, we can fool
around,” he whispered seductively.
Booker’s skin prickled as Tom’s fingers moved lightly over his body.  Rolling
over, he gazed into Tom’s wide eyes.  “I’m sorry I hit you,” he muttered
miserably, “That was a shitty thing to do.”
“Yeah it was,” Tom answered honestly.  “But I kinda deserved it.  I shouldn’t
have said that about Robbie Werner.”
A tortured expression passed over Booker’s face.   “It’s true though, you like
having sex with him.”  When Tom did not answer, he whispered, “Why won’t you
have sex with me?”
Tom’s hand stopped moving and he sat up.  Staring down at Booker’s battered
face, Tom fought to keep his voice under control, “Is that what this is about? 
You’re pissed at me because I won’t let you fuck me?”
Booker struggled to sit up, his eyes once again flashing with anger.  “Maybe I
am.  I don’t understand it, why won’t you let me when you have no problem
letting Robbie Werner or any other john who hands you a few dollars.  Is that
what I’m doing wrong?  Do you want me to pay you?”
Tears welled in Tom’s eyes.  “If you’re trying to hurt me you succeeded you
asshole,” he murmured, his face a picture of misery.  Standing up, he slowly
crossed the room and curled up despondently onto the chair.  “If you want
someone to fuck, go fuck yourself.”
Booker knew he had gone too far.  He wished he could take back the spiteful
words that had upset Tom but he could not.  Once spoken, the hurt could not be
undone.  Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stood up and approached
the chair.  Receiving no acknowledgement from Tom, he squatted down on the
floor and laid his hand on Tom’s knee.  “I don’t know why I said that,” he
whispered, as his eyes pleaded with Tom to forgive him.  “I’m sooo sorry Tommy,
I never meant to hurt you, I just…” he paused for a moment as he gathered his
thoughts.  “I just care for you so much and you’re right, I do get jealous when
I know you’ve been with Werner because I hate it that he gets to have you so
completely.”  When Tom finally met his gaze, Dennis hurriedly continued, “But
I’m okay with what we have, honest.  I’m just sick and tired of our whole
fucking existence.  I hate the way we live and I hate the men that take
advantage of us.”  Sensing that he was finally getting through, he picked up
his lover’s hand and gently squeezed the slender fingers.  “Don’t you get it? 
I want more for us.  I don’t want to do this anymore.”
Neither boy spoke for several minutes until Tom finally broke the deafening
silence.  Lightly stroking Dennis’ bruised and swollen face he whispered, “I
don’t want to do it anymore either but we have no choice Booker, what else are
we gonna do?”
Leaning forward, Booker pulled Tom into his arms.  “I don’t know Tommy,” he
whispered, “But I’ll think of something.”
***** A Way Out *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: Booker knew he had gone too far.  He wished he could take
     back the spiteful words that had upset Tom but he could not.  Once
     spoken, the hurt could not be undone.  Swinging his legs over the
     side of the bed, he stood up and approached the chair.  Receiving no
     acknowledgement from Tom, he squatted down on the floor and laid his
     hand on Tom’s knee.  “I don’t know why I said that,” he whispered, as
     his eyes pleaded with Tom to forgive him.  “I’m sooo sorry Tommy, I
     never meant to hurt you, I just…” he paused for a moment as he
     gathered his thoughts.  “I just care for you so much and you’re
     right, I do get jealous when I know you’ve been with Werner because I
     hate it that he gets to have you so completely.”  When Tom finally
     met his gaze, Dennis hurriedly continued, “But I’m okay with what we
     have, honest.  I’m just sick and tired of our whole fucking
     existence.  I hate the way we live and I hate the men that take
     advantage of us.”  Sensing that he was finally getting through, he
     picked up his lover’s hand and gently squeezed the slender fingers. 
     “Don’t you get it?  I want more for us.  I don’t want to do this
     anymore.”
     Neither boy spoke for several minutes until Tom finally broke the
     deafening silence.  Lightly stroking Dennis’ bruised and swollen face
     he whispered, “I don’t want to do it anymore either but we have no
     choice Booker, what else are we gonna do?”
     Leaning forward, Booker pulled Tom into his arms.  “I don’t know
     Tommy,” he whispered, “But I’ll think of something.”
A_Way_Out 
In the early hours of the following morning, Tom sat cross-legged on a chair in
their dimly lit hotel room.  It had been a rough night and he was pleased that
Dennis now appeared to be resting peacefully.  He had eventually persuaded his
lover to take pain medication to help him sleep.  Surprisingly, Booker had
agreed.  As Dennis lay snoring softly through his swollen nose, Tom had found
sleep elusive.  He had tossed and turned for several hours before climbing out
of bed and pulling on his clothes.  Sneaking softly downstairs, he had found
Morty sitting behind his desk watching an old black and white movie.  A small
plastic tree, covered in tatty tinsel and gaudy colored baubles sat in the
corner, reminding Tom that the next day was Christmas Day.  A thought then
popped into Tom’s mind.  He had come downstairs to see if Morty was in the mood
for a chat but now he had another plan.  Smiling his attractive smile, he had
asked the hotel clerk for some paper and a pencil.  Engrossed in his movie,
Morty had grunted and pointed at his desk drawer.  Tom quickly grabbed several
sheets and a couple of pencils and thanking the man, he had returned upstairs.
Now he sat silently sketching Booker as he slept.  It had been a long time
since he had taken pencil to paper and for the first time in months, he felt
calm and in control.  His pencil lightly shaded over the paper, bringing
definition to the image of Booker’s sleeping face.  Tom purposely omitted the
discoloration under Dennis’ eyes and the slight swelling of the nose.  He
wanted his picture to be one of peace not violence as this was to be his
Christmas present to Booker.
Hearing a soft groan, he put down his drawing and extricating his cramped legs
from their cross-legged position, he hobbled over to the bed to check on his
friend.  Feeling the mattress depress, Booker opened his bruised eyes and
smiled sleepily at Tom.  “Hey,” Dennis muttered, “What are you doing out of
bed?”
“Nothing,” Tom lied.  “Go back to sleep, it’s still early.”
Booker’s lower lip protruded into a soft pout.  “Don’t wanna sleep,” he
murmured drowsily.  “I wanna play with you.”
“Is that right?” Tom laughed quietly as his eyes twinkled mischievously. 
Standing up, he quickly undressed before pulling back the covers and crawling
in next to Dennis.  Reaching out, he slowly ran his fingers down Booker’s
smooth chest but his friend quickly pushed his hand away.
“Nuh uh,” Booker whispered, his voice heavy with arousal.  “No touching.  I
just wanna touch you.”
It was Tom’s turn to pout but his sulky expression did not last long when
Booker’s fingers began to move slowly down his body.  Tom’s heart rate
quickened as Dennis’ fingers ran intimately over the skin of his taut belly
before slowly traversing back up his body and stopping at his chest.  Booker
lazily played with Tom’s nipple, rubbing his thumb over the hard nub as Tom’s
breathing intensified.  Smiling to himself, Dennis once again let his fingers
travel lightly down Tom’s body until they rested just above Tom’s pubic hair. 
He could sense Tom’s anticipation as he gazed lovingly into Tom’s eyes.  Slowly
moving his fingers downwards, he delicately ran his fingertips over Tom’s
growing cock.  Tom let out a soft moan and Booker smiled.  He wanted to tease
Tom, have him begging for more.  As he began to move his fingers back up Tom’s
quivering body his hand was suddenly grabbed and pushed back down.  Pulling
away, Booker laughed wickedly, “Do that again and you won’t get your surprise,”
he murmured.
Tom’s eyes gazed back dreamily.  “What surprise?” he panted, as Booker’s
fingers once again stroked up and down the length of his shaft.
“You’ll see,” Booker replied, a smile playing on his lips.
Tom closed his eyes and took pleasure in the sensation of Booker’s fingers
touching his cock.  He gasped as Dennis lightly tugged at his growing erection
before once again fondling and rubbing his cockhead.  He became aware that
Booker was shifting position and when he opened his eyes, he saw Dennis
kneeling in between his legs.  His eyes widened in shock and he struggled to
sit up but Booker gently pushed him back down onto the mattress, a look of
sadness flashing across his dark eyes.  “Shh, Tommy, it’s okay, I’m not gonna
do that.” 
Tom felt stupid for not trusting Booker.  He bit down on his lip self-
consciously and attempted to give Dennis a smile.  “Sorry, I thought you-–“
“No talking,” Booker murmured as he cupped Tom’s testicles in his hand and
began to caress them with his thumb before moving back to Tom’s erection.  He
smiled with satisfaction as Tom’s hips lifted off the bed as he gently tugged
and stroked.  “Do you like that baby?” Dennis whispered as he increased his
pace.  “Do you wanna come?”
“Yesss,” Tom breathed, “I wanna… come.”
“Do you want your surprise?” Booker teased as he continued to tug gently at
Tom’s cock.
Panting heavily, Tom only managed to nod.  Grinning, Booker lowered his head
and darting out his tongue, he licked at the pre-cum weeping heavily from Tom’s
engorged cockhead.
Crying out with pleasure, Tom bucked his hips upwards.  Booker wrapped his
fingers around the base of Tom’s erection and ducking his head, he took Tom
into his mouth.  “Fuck!” Tom yelled, as his finger’s tangled in Dennis’ hair. 
Booker expertly used his tongue and lips as he sucked and licked at Tom’s hard
cock.  “Feels… so… good,” Tom panted, as his hips pumped up and down.  “Suck
me… Oh Dennis… suck me… oh fuck…   Dennis!...I’m gonna… I’m gonna…  FUUCK!”
Dennis swallowed deeply as Tom’s warm semen hit the back of his throat.  He
continued to suck until Tom’s body stopped quivering.  As he lapped at Tom’s
softening cock, he felt his lover’s fingers gently stroking his hair.  Smiling,
he lifted his head and gazed into Tom’s heavily lidded eyes.  Inching forward,
he lay on top of Tom’s prone body, his semi erect penis pressing against Tom’s
stomach.  Pushing back Tom’s sweaty hair, Booker kissed him slowly and
lovingly. 
When they eventually pulled apart, Tom stared deep into Booker’s eyes as his
fingers lightly danced over his buttocks.  “Roll over,” he whispered, “Let me
return the favor.”
Grinning happily, Booker maneuvered his body to the other side of the bed and
lying on his back he sighed contentedly as Tom’s fingers worked their magic. 
It did not take long for him to spill his seed as he cried out Tom’s name. 
Snuggling close, the two boys continued to caress and stroke each other’s
bodies until they both drifted into a light sleep.
                                      **
Booker rose first and padding to the toilet, he relieved his full bladder. 
Yawning as he walked back into the bedroom, he decided that he could use
another hour’s sleep.  Just as he was about to climb back into bed, he spotted
a piece of paper lying under the chair.  Walking over, he bent down and picked
it up.  He stared transfixed at the portrait of his own sleeping face.  The
likeness was so extraordinary, he felt as though he was looking at a photo. 
He turned around as Tom’s voice sounded from behind, “I forgot about that.  It
was gonna to be your Christmas present; I guess the surprise is ruined now.”
Carrying the sketch over to the bed, Dennis sat down next to Tom.  “It’s
incredible Tommy, I love it.  Where did you learn to do this?”
Tom shrugged.  “I dunno, I’ve always liked to draw.”
Climbing back under the covers, Booker sat staring at the portrait.  Tom
initially appeared unfazed by Dennis' appreciation of his artistic talent.  He
had never sketched to gain praise; he had only ever done it because it was
something he enjoyed.  He had spent many hours at school sketching rather than
learning.  Most of his teachers paid no attention to what he did in class, they
were just grateful that he was not causing a disruption.  Even Doug did not
fully comprehend how gifted his brother was as Tom rarely let anyone see his
drawings. 
Beginning to feel embarrassed at Booker’s scrutiny of his artwork, Tom snatched
it from his hand and threw it on the floor.  “Hey!” Booker yelled, “Don’t ruin
it!”
Sighing heavily, Tom reached down and picked up his picture.  Handing it back
to Booker he mumbled, “It’s no big deal, it’s just a drawing. “
A huge smile spread across Dennis’ bruised face as he waved the piece of paper
at Tom.  “No big deal?  Don’t you see Tommy, this is your ticket out!”
Tom stared back uncomprehendingly.  “What do you mean?” he asked, “My ticket
out of what.”
Booker rolled his eyes in frustration.  “Prostitution you idiot!  This is how
you can make money; you can draw portraits of people.”
“Um, Booker, I don’t think anyone’s gonna want to buy something I’ve drawn,”
Tom replied self-consciously.
Dennis jumped out of bed and began to furiously pace up and down the room. 
“Are you kidding?  Tommy, you’re a fucking artistic genius, people are gonna be
lining up!”
Tom rubbed at the back of his neck as a shy smile twitched his lips.  “Do you
really think so?” he asked quietly.
“Fuck yeah!” Dennis yelled.  Sitting back down on the bed, he grabbed hold of
Tom’s hand as his eyes danced with excitement.  “I’ve got a plan and if it
works out, this is gonna be the beginning of the rest of our lives.”
***** Expectations *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: Sighing heavily, Tom reached down and picked up his
     picture.  Handing it back to Booker he mumbled, “It’s no big deal,
     it’s just a drawing. “
     A huge smile spread across Dennis’ bruised face as he waved the piece
     of paper at Tom.  “No big deal?  Don’t you see Tommy, this is your
     ticket out!”
     Tom stared back uncomprehendingly.  “What do you mean?” he asked, “My
     ticket out of what.”
     Booker rolled his eyes in frustration.  “Prostitution you idiot! 
     This is how you can make money; you can draw portraits of people.”
     “Um, Booker, I don’t think anyone’s gonna want to buy something I’ve
     drawn,” Tom replied self-consciously.
     Dennis jumped out of bed and began to furiously pace up and down the
     room.  “Are you kidding?  Tommy, you’re a fucking artistic genius,
     people are gonna be lining up!”
     Tom rubbed at the back of his neck as a shy smile twitched his lips. 
     “Do you really think so?” he asked quietly.
     “Fuck yeah!” Dennis yelled.  Sitting back down on the bed, he grabbed
     hold of Tom’s hand as his eyes danced with excitement.  “I’ve got a
     plan and if it works out, this is gonna be the beginning of the rest
     of our lives.”
Expectations 
Lying motionless on the hotel bed, Tom attempted to shut off his mind as Robbie
Werner thrust deep into his body.  It was Christmas Eve and he wanted nothing
more than to be home with Booker.  But Robbie’s offer to pay double if he could
have Tom for the whole evening had been too good to pass up.  They needed the
money and the sooner they acquired it, the sooner they could put their plan
into action.  The two boys had talked for hours about Booker’s big idea and
they finally concluded that if they spent the next few weeks working around the
clock, they would have enough money for a fresh start.  They would leave the
city and head east, find a small town and settle down.  Booker would find an
honest paying job and Tom would sell his sketches. 
Sensing Tom’s lack of enthusiasm, Robbie slowed his pace before completely
withdrawing from Tom’s body.  Rolling onto his back, he breathed heavily as he
turned his face towards Tom.  “Get on top,” he instructed.
Pulled back from his contemplations, Tom gave Robbie a dazed look.  “What?”
“I want you on top,” Werner panted.  “And hurry up, there’s a good boy.”
Tom’s eyes flashed with anger.  “No fucking way!  I’m not a girl, stop treating
me like your fucking bitch!”
Unaccustomed to Tom’s insolence and taken aback at the ferocity of his refusal,
Werner lay wondering what to do.  But as his cock throbbed painfully, his
demeanor began to change and narrowing his eyes he spoke in a stern voice. 
“I’m paying you good money Tommy, you need to show me a little respect.”
“This is bullshit,” Tom muttered as he tried to scramble from the bed.  Strong
hands pulled him back and he struggled violently to get free.  A hard slap to
the face stopped him and he stared back at Robbie in stunned silence.
“Now,” Robbie said calmly, as he pulled Tom’s unresisting body towards him. 
“Be a good boy and get on top.”
Fearing a reprisal, Tom knelt over the man’s trembling body.  Werner placed his
hands on Tom’s hips and carefully guided him down onto his erection.  As Werner
slowly lifted him up and down, Tom screwed his eyes shut.  He did not want to
have sex in this way.  He felt completely emasculated as Robbie slammed his
young body onto his cock.  He could feel Werner’s nails biting into the tender
flesh of his groin.  Covering his face in his hands, Tom bowed his head to hide
his humiliation.  He felt shame as his own arousal intensified and he willed
his body not to respond.  More than anything, he did not want to climax whilst
being fucked like a girl. 
Oblivious of Tom’s distress, Werner quickened his pace as his breath heaved in
his chest.  Finding Tommy had been the best thing that had happened to him.  In
the ten plus years that he had paid for sex with boys, he had never found
anyone who was so pretty and petite.  Booker had been fun but Tommy was in a
league of his own.  Werner took pleasure in every moment he spent with the
boy.  Just thinking about him caused his cock to twitch.  Never in his wildest
dreams could he have hoped for such a find.
Feeling Robbie slam against his prostate, Tom knew that his own body would
eventually betray him.  Grabbing hold of his cock, he pumped it furiously,
desperate for the degradation to end.  “Good boy Tommy, good boy,” Werner
panted as he watched the teenager masturbate.  When Tom eventually cried out
his release, Werner thrust his cock deep into Tom’s body as his hands pulled
Tom’s hips downwards.  Closing his eyes, Robbie’s orgasm hit hard as his hands
held Tom firmly on top of him.  When his body finally stopped shuddering, he
opened his eyes to see Tom’s face glaring down at him.  Releasing his hold, he
allowed Tom to disengage.  He watched silently as the teenager climbed from the
bed and began to dress.  “I paid you to stay all night,” he protested with a
pout.
Pulling two fifty dollar bills out of his jean’s pocket, Tom threw them
furiously on to the bed.  “Keep your stinkin’ money,” he snapped, “I’m done
being your whore.”  Tying his worn bandanna around his head, Tom walked from
the room and slammed the door.
                                      **
Arriving back at The Exeter, Tom found Booker lying on the bed watching
television.  He had managed to persuade his lover to stay inside and recoup, at
least until after Christmas.  Now that he had given back half of what Robbie
Werner had initially paid him, Tommy knew he would have to stay out on the
streets longer to make up the difference.  They had enough money to see them
through Christmas but if they wanted to leave the city in the New Year, they
would both have to pound the pavements day and night.  Tom had been counting on
Robbie’s bi-weekly appointments as a way of making an easy two hundred dollars
a week but his outburst tonight had ruined that.  Annoyed at himself for
blowing the chance to make quick cash, he ignored Booker’s greeting and instead
stomped angrily into the bathroom before closing the door with a bang. Kicking
off his boots, he started to undress when the door opened and Dennis’ head
peered around the jamb.  “Is it safe to come in?” Booker joked lightly.
Sighing heavily, Tom nodded.  “Yeah, sorry.  It’s been a shit night.”
Entering the bathroom, Booker hugged Tom close.  “Wanna talk about it?” he
asked gently as he brushed Tom’s bangs from his eyes.
“Not really,” Tom muttered as he pushed Dennis away and continued to undress. 
“I just want to shower and go to sleep.”
“Okay,” Booker replied as he pulled his t-shirt back over his head and began to
unzip his jeans.  “Let’s get naked.”
Tom laid a hand on Dennis’ arm, preventing him from undressing any further.  “I
want to shower alone Booker,” he retorted wearily.
Having showered with Tom every day for the last month, Booker knew something
was bothering Tom.  “What’s wrong?  Don’t you want to fool around?” he asked
quietly as he reached out and stroked at Tom’s bare chest.”
“For fuck’s sake, just leave it Booker!” Tom snapped, as he grasped painfully
at Dennis’ wrist and yanked it away. “I just don’t feel like it, all right?”
“Bullshit!” Booker yelled back, hurt at Tom’s rejection.  “It’s because of
Robbie Werner isn’t it?  You don’t want me touching you ‘cause you’ve been with
him!”
Pushing furiously past Booker, Tom stormed back into the bedroom.  “I fucking
hate Robbie Werner!  I wish you’d never introduced me to him!  He treats me
more like a fucking whore than anyone!”
Dragging his t-shirt over his head, Booker followed Tom back into the room. 
“Don’t lie to me Tom,” he muttered angrily, “He gets you off and you enjoy it.”
“FUCK YOU!” Tom screamed as tears of rage filled his eyes.  “You have no idea
how he treated me tonight!”
Jealousy caused irrational thoughts to cloud Booker's mind.  Pulling on his
boots and grabbing his jacket off the chair, he opened the door.  “You know
what?  I really don’t care anymore, you can have Robbie Werner.  Merry fucking
Christmas Tommy,” he spat before walking out and crashing the door closed
behind him.
                                      **
Standing at the window, Tom stood shivering as he observed several pedestrians
daring enough to brave the cold, scurry back and forth along the pavement. 
Only a small number of commuters drove along the normally bustling street.  It
was 1am and most people were either asleep or happily ensconced in their warm
homes, raising a glass and celebrating the start of the festive season.  From
the corner of his eye, Tom saw Booker hurrying down the footpath, his leather
jacket zipped tight against the cold.  He watched as Dennis paused for a moment
outside of the hotel before walking inside.  Moving away from the window, Tom
crawled into bed and pulled the blanket up to his chin.  Several minutes later,
he heard the door open and the sound of Booker undressing.  Feeling the
mattress depress he quickly closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.  When
cold fingers lightly touched his stomach, Tom flinched involuntarily at the
sensation.  “I know you’re not asleep Tommy,” Booker whispered as he moved his
fingers over Tom’s skin.  “Talk to me.”
With an annoyed sigh, Tom opened his eyes and shoved Booker’s hand away. 
“Can’t you take a hint,” he growled, “I don’t want you touching me.  I’m sick
of people touching me.  Just leave me the fuck alone.”
“Fine,” Booker grunted as he turned angrily onto his side.
Tom immediately felt regret at his words but the whole situation with Robbie
Werner had him feeling violated and used.  It was stupid to blame Booker, whose
only crime was a fierce jealousy at not being able to have Tom in the way he so
desperately desired.  Misery and dejection slowly consumed Tom’s tortured
mind.  He did not know how to make it right with Booker, except to give him
what he wanted and he knew if he did that before he was ready, he would
eventually come to resent his lover for pressuring him into it.
Rolling over, he turned his back to Booker, as silent tears spilled from his
eyes.  Little by little, he was losing the only friend he had ever had and he
knew that before long, he would once again be alone.
 
 
***** Good Tidings of Comfort and Joy *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: With an annoyed sigh, Tom opened his eyes and shoved
     Booker’s hand away.  “Can’t you take a hint,” he growled, “I don’t
     want you touching me.  I’m sick of people touching me.  Just leave me
     the fuck alone.”
     “Fine,” Booker grunted as he turned angrily onto his side.
     Tom immediately felt regret at his words but the whole situation with
     Robbie Werner had him feeling violated and used.  It was stupid to
     blame Booker, whose only crime was a fierce jealousy at not being
     able to have Tom in the way he so desperately desired.  Misery and
     dejection slowly consumed Tom’s tortured mind.  He did not know how
     to make it right with Booker, except to give him what he wanted and
     he knew if he did that before he was ready, he would eventually come
     to resent his lover for pressuring him into it.
     Rolling over, he turned his back to Booker, as silent tears spilled
     from his eyes.  Little by little, he was losing the only friend he
     had ever had and he knew that before long, he would once again be
     alone.
Good_Tidings_of_Comfort_and_Joy 
The clanging of church bells woke Tom from a troubled sleep.  His stomach
growled, reminding him he had not eaten in over twenty-four hours.  Sitting up,
he rubbed at his eyes as a soft voice spoke from the opposite side of the room,
“Merry Christmas Tommy.”
Turning his head, Tom saw Booker sitting in the chair, covered by a blanket. 
Ashamed of his behavior the night before, Tom ducked his head and mumbled,
“Merry Christmas.” 
Booker stood up and dropping the blanket, he walked over to the bed and sat
down.  Taking Tom’s hand, he tried to get his lover to meet his gaze, but Tom’s
head remained bowed.  Reaching out, Booker took hold of Tom’s chin and gently
tilted his head.  “Can you forgive me?” he whispered beseechingly.
Biting down on his lower lip to prevent himself from crying, Tom nodded before
allowing Booker to hug him.  Dennis’ lips found his and they kissed tenderly. 
Desperate to feel loved, Tom thrust his tongue deep into Booker’s mouth as his
hand dropped into Dennis’ lap and began massaging Booker’s cock through the
thin cotton of his boxers.  With a grunt, Dennis broke the kiss and gently
pulled Tom’s hand away.  “Don’t,” he muttered, “You don’t have to do anything—”
“I want to,” Tom breathed, as he trailed his finger down Booker’s naked chest. 
“I didn’t mean what I said last night.  I was angry with Werner for treating me
like his bitch and I took it out on you.  It was stupid.”
Dennis stilled Tom’s hand.  “Why did he make you feel like a bitch?” he asked
softly, needing to know the answer but not certain that he really wanted a
blow-by-blow description.
“Forget it,” Tom whispered as he attempted to distract Booker by stroking at
his nipple.
Pushing Tom’s hand away, Booker stood up.  He did not want Tom to use sex as a
way of silencing him.  “Tell me what he did,” the demanded gently, “Did he hurt
you?”
Shaking his head, Tom wondered what he should tell Booker.  He could feel the
shame and humiliation burning at his cheeks and he quickly looked away.  As
Dennis sat back down on the bed, Tom slowly turned to face him.  Booker’s dark
eyes bore into him and he knew he needed to tell the truth otherwise their
relationship was worthless.  Taking a deep breath, he described the night’s
events.
Dennis sat listening without interrupting.  “I can’t believe he slapped you,”
he whispered when Tom had finished.  What upset him the most though, was the
thought of Tom writhing on top of Robbie Werner.  He wanted to feel Tom
squirming on top of him, moaning his name.   It amused him slightly that Tom
thought being on top was girly.  Booker had reached some of his most intense
orgasms whilst riding another man. 
Aware that Tom was staring at him, Booker quickly changed his expression but
not before Tom asked coldly, “What’s so funny?”
Rubbing his head nervously, Booker knew he had to tread carefully or risk
upsetting Tom further.  “Nothing.  It was wrong for him to hit you Tommy and I
never thought he would do something like that.  But… um… him wanting you on
top?  That’s just… it’s just something guys do sometimes, it doesn’t mean he
thought of you as a girl.”
“Oh,” Tom replied as his cheeks reddened.  “I guess I’ve got a lot to learn
huh?”  When Booker did not reply, he sighed heavily.  “I ruined it Booker, I
told Werner I didn’t want to see him anymore.  I could have made two hundred
dollars in a week.”
A feeling of elation rushed through Booker’s body and he ducked his head so Tom
would not see the joy on his face.  Quickly composing himself, he looked up and
gave Tom a reassuring smile.  “It doesn’t matter, we can still make money and
then… then we can leave.”
Pouting seductively, Tom edged in closer as his fingers once again began to
massage Booker’s groin.  “Do you still wanna run away with me?” he whispered,
smiling mischievously as he felt Booker’s cock twitch beneath his hand.
“Nope,” Booker teased, as he started to nip and suck at the taut skin of Tom’s
neck.  “You’re too much work.”
Grinning, Tom gave Dennis’ cock a hard squeeze in retaliation and Booker gasped
loudly at the pleasure/pain he felt run through him.  Pushing Tom back on the
bed, he quickly straddled Tom’s slim body.  “You’re gonna pay for that
McQuaid,” he laughed.  “I’m gonna make you squirm.”
Tom’s pupils enlarged and he gazed back at Booker with dark, seductive eyes. 
“Do it,” he whispered, as he reached back and wrapped his fingers around the
wooden slats of the headboard.  Witnessing Tom stretched out in supplication,
Booker’s body quivered with anticipation.  The thought of Tom tied to the bed
flashed across his mind and he groaned loudly.  Leaning forward, he kissed Tom
forcefully, as he pulled down his lover’s boxers and freed his semi erect
cock.  Tom moaned as Booker began to fondle him.  His hips bucked forward as he
felt Dennis’ tongue lick at the tip of his cock.  “I wanna see you,” Tom
moaned, “I wanna see your cock.”
It was Booker’s turn to moan.  Awkwardly pulling at his boxers, he groaned in
frustration until he finally managed to rid himself of the unwanted material. 
Tom’s eyes remained fixed upon Booker’s groin as his lover’s gentle fingers
tugged and fondled him.  He watched with fascination as Dennis erection grew
without any physical stimulation.  Moaning, Tom thrust his shaft forcefully
into Booker’s hand, his eyes silently begging him to pull harder.  Grinning,
Booker let go and panting heavily he sat back and murmured playfully, “Tell me
what you want.”
“Pull harder,” Tom moaned, as his body writhed underneath Booker’s.  “I wanna
come.”
“I dunno,” Booker teased, tweaking one of Tom’s nipples and making him
wriggle.  “Maybe… you want me to kiss it.”
Tom’s eyes shimmered with arousal.  “Yesss!” he panted heavily, “Oh fuck
Dennis, yesss!”
Tom’s passionate plea had the desired effect on Booker.  Bending forward, he
pressed his lips tenderly against Tom’s weeping cockhead.  A shock went through
Tom like an electric charge and he cried out as he thrust his pelvis off the
mattress.  Wrapping his lips around Tom’s engorged head, Dennis sucked and
licked as his lover squirmed beneath him.  Wanting to see him ejaculate, Booker
sat up and enveloping Tom’s cock with his hand, he began to tug up and down as
Tom thrust into his fist.  Panting, Booker felt his own cock begin to weep. 
“Touch me Tommy,” he begged, “I wanna come with you.”
Tom let go of the headboard and took Booker into his hand.  As they tugged each
other fervently, Tom became more vocal, “That… feels… so… fucking… good… oh
fuck… harder… oh fuck… harder!… oh fuck… DENNIS!”  His orgasm hit violently and
he ejaculated forcefully over his stomach. 
Several moments later, Booker threw back his head and cried out Tom’s name as
he too climaxed.  Falling forward, he lay on top of Tom and kissed him
passionately.  He could feel the stickiness of Tom’s orgasm beneath him and he
moaned softly as he envisioned soaping up his lover’s body under the shower. 
Slowing down the kiss, Booker gently pulled away and gazed into Tom’s serene
face.  “I love you,” he whispered as his finger traced lightly over Tom’s lips.
A lump formed in Tom’s throat.  He could not remember ever hearing those words
before.  He knew his mother must have said them to him but he could not
remember it.  Feeling slightly insecure, he gave Booker a shy smile.  “I… I
love you too.”
Grinning, Booker clambered over Tom’s body and lay down next to him.  Wrapping
his arms around his lover he murmured, “You’d better, ‘cause I can’t imagine my
life without you.”
Tom did not reply as he processed Booker’s words.  Hearing them aloud made
their relationship seem far more real.  He knew it was only a matter of time
before he would have to relinquish his body completely to Booker and from then
on, there would be no turning back. 
Ever.
                                      **
Emerging from a light doze, Booker nudged Tom gently in the ribs.  “Time to get
you clean,” he murmured as he nuzzled into Tom’s neck. 
Tom yawned sleepily.  “Don’t wanna,” he muttered as he pushed his lower lip
into a soft pout.  His expression had the desired effect and Booker pulled him
into his arms and sucked lovingly on the protruding flesh.  Closing his eyes,
Tom moaned quietly as Booker rained kisses up and down his body.  Tom felt his
cock once again come alive and he pushed Booker’s hand down to his groin,
silently encouraging him to touch him. 
Booker grinned as he lazily sucked on Tom’s taut stomach before lifting his
head and giving Tom a playful slap on the thigh. “Come on, shower.”
Groaning loudly, Tom threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. 
Booker followed and the two boys entered the bathroom.  Tom waited as Booker
adjusted the temperature of the faucets before both boys stepped under the warm
water.  Pushing Tom against the wall, Dennis kissed him passionately as his
hand wandered down the length of Tom’s torso before stopping at his navel.  He
playfully swirled his finger around the indentation as Tom moaned into his
mouth.  As Booker began to move his hand back up Tom’s body, Tom nipped him on
the lip.  Tasting blood, Booker pulled away and raised his eyebrows in
question.  Tom slowly cast his eyes downwards and Booker did not need a second
invitation.  Laughing lightly, he let his hand drop back down as he gently
began to fondle Tom’s growing erection.  Licking along Tom’s chiseled jaw line,
Booker stopped to suck on Tom’s earlobe as he whispered, “I like it when you
tell me what to do.”
A soft moan emitted from Tom’s lips.  “Kiss it,” he murmured, his voice husky
with arousal.  “Slowly.”
Dropping to his knees, Booker placed one hand on Tom’s hip and the other at the
base of Tom’s cock, as he lightly pressed his full lips against Tom’s
cockhead.  He savored Tom’s unique taste as he swirled his tongue around the
weeping slit.  He continued to pepper kisses over the engorged head as Tom ran
his fingers roughly through Booker's wet hair.  The warm water cascaded over
their bodies, intensifying their arousal. “Suck me,” Tom panted, as he rocked
his hips back and forth.  Booker took Tom’s weeping cock into his mouth.  He
skillfully rolled his tongue as he sucked deep and hard.  Tom’s legs started to
shake as he felt his second orgasm rising.  He looked down to see that Booker
had his hand wrapped around his own cock and was feverishly masturbating. 
“FUCK YEAH!” Tom cried as he grasped a handful of Booker’s hair and forcefully
slammed his cock in and out of his lover’s willing mouth.  Booker opened up his
throat and allowed Tom full access.  “I’m coming… I’m coming,” Tom panted as he
thrust deeper into Booker’s mouth.  With a final cry, his hot semen shot into
Dennis’ throat.  Tasting Tom’s essence was all it took to push Booker over the
edge.  With a moan, he ejaculated over his fingers.  As his body shuddered, he
felt Tom’s legs give way and they ended up in a tangled heap on the shower
floor.   Laughing, Tom pulled Dennis into a tight hug.  As the water started to
run cold, they jumped to their feet and quickly washed away the remnants of
their orgasms. 
Exiting the cubicle, they dried each other’s bodies, taking the time to stop
every few minutes to press their lips together and kiss tenderly.  Eventually
emerging from the steamy room, they dressed in jeans and t-shirts.  Tom moved
over to the window and stared out at the busy traffic.  It was Christmas Day
and everyone seemed to have a place to go.  A lump formed in his throat, as he
thought of Doug all alone in the confines of the juvenile lockup.  He felt
Booker’s arm around his waist and he turned and managed a small smile.  “What’s
wrong?” Dennis asked, his eyes searching Tom’s face for answers.
“I was thinking about Doug,” Tom replied.  Seeing the look of concern on
Booker’s face, he attempted another smile.  “It’s okay.”
The forced smile did not fool Booker and he held Tom close as he whispered,
“You’ll see him soon Tommy, in a few months you’ll be together again.”
Tom nodded and pulling away, he moved to the bed and sat down.  Picking up the
TV remote, he flicked on to a cheesy Christmas movie, hoping it would take his
mind off Doug.  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Booker rummaging
through his tatty shopping bag before pulling out a rectangular package.  Tom’s
heart fluttered; Booker had bought him a Christmas present. 
Walking over, Booker sat down next to Tom and handed him the parcel.  “Merry
Christmas Tommy,” he said with a shy smile.  “It’s not much but I hope you like
it.”
Tom ripped excitedly at the brown paper wrapper to reveal a worn copy of To
Kill a Mocking Bird.  His heart hammered in his chest as he tried to think of
something to say.  What use was a book to him when he could not read?  Sensing
Tom’s discomfort, Booker laid a hand on Tom’s knee.  “Don’t you like it?” he
asked quietly.  “I saw your copy of Catcher and I thought you might like this
as well.”
The book slipped from Tom’s fingers and he pushed the heels of his hands
against his eyes as he choked back a sob.  “I can’t fucking read!” he cried
angrily, his shame all consuming.
“What?” Booker exclaimed in surprise.  “But Tommy, you carry that book around. 
I don’t understand.”
“My teacher… gave it… to me,” Tom hiccuped as he roughly wiped away his tears
of humiliation with the palm of his hand.  Composing himself, he continued,
“This teacher, he was so nice.  He said he’d help me learn and I really wanted
to but then Doug got arrested—”
“Shh,” Booker comforted as he held Tom close.  Stroking at Tom’s damp hair,
Booker once again realized how little he really knew about Tom McQuaid.  The
thought that a fifteen-year-old could not read was incomprehensible to Dennis,
who had a great love of books and the written word.  He knew that if Tom wanted
to escape from the horrors of street life, he would have to have an education. 
Slowly, a plan formed in Booker’s mind.  There was no reason why he could not
teach Tom to read.  There was no doubt in Dennis’ mind that Tom had a high
intellect, so learning under the right circumstances would not be a problem. 
He understood that he would need to exercise patience during his role as
teacher.  Tom could be a firecracker when pushed and he did not want his friend
to feel disillusioned when it became too difficult.  Smiling, he lifted Tom’s
face and gently kissed his lips.  “I love you Tommy,” he murmured lovingly
against Tom’s soft pout, “I’ll do anything for you and if you want to learn to
read, I’ll teach you.”
A small shiver ran down Tom’s spine and he gazed back adoringly at Booker.  He
felt so incredibly lucky to have someone like Dennis in his life.  He was
convinced that their chance meeting in a laneway had been fate.  When he had
lost his brother and protector, Tom thought his world had shattered.  Now that
he had Dennis, Tom felt like he was slowly starting to heal from all the hurt
and abuse that he had endured throughout his short life. 
Hugging Booker close, Tom was certain that he would soon be able to give Booker
what he most desired, the two things Tom had not yet been able to surrender
completely.   His body and his soul.
 
***** Final Straw *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: “Shh,” Booker comforted as he held Tom close.  Stroking
     at Tom’s damp hair, Booker once again realized how little he really
     knew about Tom McQuaid.  The thought that a fifteen-year-old could
     not read was incomprehensible to Dennis, who had a great love of
     books and the written word.  He knew that if Tom wanted to escape
     from the horrors of street life, he would have to have an education. 
     Slowly, a plan formed in Booker’s mind.  There was no reason why he
     could not teach Tom to read.  There was no doubt in Dennis’ mind that
     Tom had a high intellect, so learning under the right circumstances
     should not be a problem.  He understood that he would need to
     exercise patience during his role as teacher.  Tom could be a
     firecracker when pushed and he did not want his friend to feel
     disillusioned when it became too difficult.  Smiling, he lifted Tom’s
     face and gently kissed his lips.  “I love you Tommy,” he murmured
     lovingly against Tom’s soft pout, “I’ll do anything for you and if
     you want to learn to read, I’ll teach you.”
     A small shiver ran down Tom’s spine and he gazed back adoringly at
     Booker.  He felt so incredibly lucky to have someone like Dennis in
     his life.  He was convinced that their chance meeting in a laneway
     had been fate.  When he had lost his brother and protector, Tom
     thought his world had shattered.  Now that he had Dennis, Tom felt
     like he was slowly starting to heal from all the hurt and abuse that
     he had endured throughout his short life. 
     Hugging Booker close, Tom was certain that he would soon be able to
     give Booker what he most desired, the two things Tom had not yet been
     able to surrender completely.   His body and his soul.
Final_Straw 
New Years came and went in a flash of noisy celebrations.  The festive season
had been a lucrative time for the boys, more people on the streets meant more
opportunities to solicit their bodies.  For Tom, it was a painful
reintroduction to how cruel people could be.  He no longer had the luxury of
Robbie Werner’s ministrations and he once again found himself at the mercy of
depraved men who took pleasure in causing pain to such a pretty teenager.  Most
nights, Booker would enter their hotel room to find Tom sporting a fresh black
eye and various other bruises on his slender body.  Dennis begged Tom not to go
out but his lover remained resolute.  They were a team and if Booker was
prepared to subject himself to the brutalities of the streets, then so was
Tom.  Their reward was an increasing pile of money that lay hidden under the
wooden floor of their closet.  Every repulsive act they endured brought their
escape another day closer.  By Booker’s calculations, they would be able to
leave by the end of January.  They needed sufficient money for extra clothing,
bus fares, food and accommodation.  Dennis’ idea was that they would relocate
to a more rural setting that would afford him work opportunities as an
unskilled laborer.  It was Booker’s dream that Tom would be able to enroll in
school and continue his education or at the very least maintain a trouble-free
existence by selling his sketches for money.  Aware of Tom’s proclivity to lose
his temper when he felt Booker was treating him like a child, Dennis had yet to
discuss the plan with his lover.  He hoped that over time, Tom would come to
accept the idea and embrace it but he knew he had a few battles ahead before he
would be able to convince Tom that it was for the best.
Booker had purchased several children’s books from the second hand store so
that Tom could start on his lessons.  At first, the teen had refused to look at
them, too embarrassed to reveal the true extent of his illiteracy.  Booker took
a gentle approach so as not to upset Tom.  Each night he would read one of the
books himself, just to show Tom that there was no shame in reading kids'
stories.  Bit by bit, Tom’s embarrassment diminished until finally, he picked
up one of the books and thumbed through the pages.  Booker watched on, his
heart breaking at the sight of Tom’s lips moving as he silently sounded out the
words.  He kept his emotions in check, not wanting Tom to see the pity he felt
as he watched a fifteen-year-old struggle to read a book written for a nine-
year-old.  When Tom had finished, Booker sat down next to him and they read the
book aloud together, with Dennis using the phonics method to teach his friend
the correspondence between letters and sounds.  After several days, Tom had
advanced to a 5th grade level and Dennis had to revisit the second hand store
to buy more books.  The elderly woman who ran the store asked Dennis why he
needed the books and when he explained, she kindly agreed to buy them back at
cost.  A few weeks later, Booker’s patience and perseverance paid off and Tom
attempted to read his first novel, S. E. Hinton’s The Outsiders.  Booker found
it endearing that Tom still silently moved his lips when he read but he did not
tease his lover about it.  He felt enormous pride at how quickly Tom had
progressed.  Every night both Tom and Dennis spent a quiet hour lost in the
fantasy of their stories.  Booker had not picked up a book in years but when he
once again revisited Catcher in the Rye, he realized how much he missed it.  He
allowed himself the luxury of purchasing several used novels to take with them
on their planned journey.  It would take them approximately two days of travel
by bus and reading would at least prevent him from brooding over whether or not
they were making the right decision.  Their situation was uncertain and there
were no guarantees that when they arrived at their final destination, their
lives would improve.  Booker just had to keep holding onto the hope that it
would all be worthwhile.  If he allowed himself to question his judgment, he
knew he would never find the courage to leave.
Opening the door to the hotel room, Booker smiled fondly at the image of Tom
sitting on the bed reading.  A frown of concentration creased Tom’s forehead
and his freshly washed hair hung in his eyes as he bent his head close to the
worn pages.  Booker stood silently for several minutes, reveling in the vision
of Tom confidently reading his novel.  An immense feeling of pride welled up
within him and he quickly blinked back tears.  Shutting the door, he took the
bag of Chinese food he had bought and put it on the bedside table.  Engrossed
in his book, Tom did not look up until Booker placed a tender kiss on top of
his head.  Tom carefully marked his page before closing the paperback and
tossing it onto the bed. 
Booker pulled off his boots and sat down next to his lover.  He had spent six
hours on the streets but it had been worth it.  His body ached but he had
several hundred dollars in his pocket.  Frowning, he reached out and touched
Tom’s neck.  “Jesus Tommy, what the hell happened?” he asked, as he tenderly
stroked at the bruising around Tom’s throat.
Tom shrugged, not wanting to explain to Booker about the risk he had taken. 
“I’m okay, honest.  Some john just got a little excited.”
“Excited?” Booker replied angrily.  “He fucking choked you!”
Pulling Dennis’ hand away, Tom lowered his head and stared at the floor.  “I
said I’m okay, just leave it.” he replied moodily.
Not wanting to press Tom further, Booker stood up and began to undress.  “I’m
gonna take a shower, eat something okay?”
Tom nodded, completely understanding how Booker felt.  He himself had arrived
home an hour earlier and after securing away the money he had made, he had gone
straight into the bathroom and taken a scalding shower.  Even when he was
clean, Tom could still smell the stench of the men who had violated him.  He
often wondered if he would ever be able to rid himself of the permeating scent
that constantly reminded him that he was nothing more than a worthless whore. 
His last client had asked for rough sex and at first, Tom had refused.  But
when the man waved an extra fifty dollars in front of him, he had reluctantly
agreed.  As he lay on the bed with his arms pinned above his head, Tom had felt
trapped.  Sitting astride the teenager, the man had used one hand to hold Tom’s
wrists as the other repeatedly slapped him around the face.  Once the man was
fully aroused, he had shifted one hand to Tom’s neck and as he entered the
teenager, he had gently applied pressure.  When he felt Tom struggle beneath
him, the man had become aroused even further and he had violently pounded his
cock in and out of Tom’s body, all the while increasing his choke hold.  Tom
had blacked out just seconds before the man reached his orgasm and when he came
to, the man was lying on top of him, breathing heavily.
Not wanting to eat until Booker had finished showering, Tom picked up his book
and kept on reading.  He loved the story of Ponyboy and his friends.  Tom
thought Booker was very clever to have picked that particular book as his first
novel.  So much of the story mirrored Tom’s own life and he found himself
relating to the greasers in the narrative.  As he sat staring down at the page,
he wondered what Doug would think when he found out that he had actually read a
book.  It was something he was looking forward to sharing with his brother when
they were once again reunited.
A waft of steam floated into the room as Booker opened the bathroom door. 
Naked, he walked over to his tattered bag and pulled out a clean pair of boxers
and a black t-shirt.  Once dressed, he climbed onto the bed next to Tom.  “You
didn’t eat,” he scolded lightly, hoping their argument was over.  “It’ll be
cold now.”
 Putting down his book, Tom smiled seductively, “Doesn’t matter, I wanted to
eat with you.”
Placing a hand along the back of Tom’s neck, Booker pulled him in for a kiss. 
Tom immediately took advantage and forcing his tongue deep into Booker’s mouth,
he pushed him backwards onto the bed and straddled his thighs.  He wanted to
consume Dennis and rid his mind of the violence that his last client had
inflicted upon him.  With the food now forgotten, he proceeded to kiss his
lover passionately as his hands feverishly groped at Dennis' taut body.
Wanting control, Dennis flipped his lover onto his back and sat astride his
legs as he forced Tom’s arms above his head. 
With a groan, Tom struggled to get free but Booker held him firm, his hands
gripping tightly at his lover’s narrow wrists.  “Get off!” Tom snarled as
memories of his previous encounter flashed into his mind.  Feeling Tom writhing
beneath him only intensified Booker’s arousal.  Effortlessly using one hand to
hold Tom’s wrists, he pulled down Tom’s boxers with the other.  “What do you
want Tommy?” Booker breathed heavily as he cupped Tom’s testicles in his hand.
“I want you to fucking get off me!” Tom yelled as he strained against Booker’s
hold.
Misreading Tom’s protests as part of a game, Dennis pushed Tom’s shirt up to
his chin and leaning forward, he placed his lips against Tom’s nipple and
sucked hard.
"STOP!" Tom cried, as panic welled in his chest.  “Please Booker… just stop!”
Finally hearing the desperation in Tom’s voice, Dennis slowly sat up.  His eyes
widened in horror as he realized that he had completely misinterpreted the
situation and he was actually forcing himself onto his lover.  “Oh God, Tommy!”
he whispered as he quickly released Tom’s hands.  “I thought you wanted—”
A resounding slap caught Booker on the side of the face.  “You SON-OF-A-BITCH!”
Tom screamed as he pushed Dennis roughly away and scrambled from the bed. 
Dennis stared back silently as he rubbed at the stinging red mark on his
cheek.  “What did that man do to you?” he asked quietly.
Tom’s breath hitched in his throat as he tried to calm himself.  He glowered
back at Booker, too furious and too emotional to speak.  After several minutes
he replied sullenly, “I’m so tired of being treated like a bitch.”
“You think I treat you like a bitch?” Booker asked, shocked that Tom would even
think such a thing. 
“Sometimes,” Tom muttered sulkily, not wanting to meet Booker’s gaze.
Standing up, Booker moved slowly over to Tom’s side.  He started to reach out
but at the last moment, he dropped his hand back to his side.  “I’m sorry
Tommy, I thought we were just playing around.”
Tears welled in Tom’s eyes and he began to sob.  “He h-held me d-down, Booker! 
H-he had h-his hand around m-my throat and I c-couldn’t breathe!”  Tom
collapsed against Dennis’ chest as the enormity of what he had experienced
flooded through his body.  Comforting arms enveloped him and he cried out his
anger and humiliation until he had no more tears to weep.  Sniffing loudly, he
pulled back and managed to give Dennis a weak smile. 
Booker did not return the smile; his face remained strained as he gently pushed
Tom’s hair back from his eyes.  “I’m not letting you get hurt again Tommy,” he
whispered, “Things are gonna change, starting from tomorrow.”
Tom stared back quizzically.  “What’s happening tomorrow?” he asked quietly.
Walking away, Booker started grabbing up clothing which lay scattered around
the room.  “We leave,” he replied, before exiting the room with an armful of
dirty laundry.
Tom stood motionless as the door slammed closed.  An immense feeling of relief
washed over him.  Tomorrow would be the first day of the rest of their lives.
***** On the Road *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: Booker did not return the smile; his face remained
     strained as he gently pushed Tom’s hair back from his eyes.  “I’m not
     letting you get hurt again Tommy,” he whispered, “Things are gonna
     change, starting from tomorrow.”
     Tom stared back quizzically.  “What’s happening tomorrow?” he asked
     quietly.
     Walking away, Booker started grabbing up clothing which lay scattered
     around the room.  “We leave,” he replied, before exiting the room
     with an armful of dirty laundry.
     Tom stood motionless as the door slammed closed.  An immense feeling
     of relief washed over him.  Tomorrow would be the first day of the
     rest of their lives.
On_the_Road 
The motion of the coach had finally lulled Tom to sleep.  He lay curled up on
the seat, his head resting in Dennis’ lap and his trench coat draped over his
body.  Booker lightly played with Tom’s hair as he gazed out of the window into
the darkness outside.  They had been traveling for fifteen hours and had not
yet reached the half way mark of their journey.  In another couple of hours,
they would change coaches for their final leg of the trip.  Although tired,
Booker found sleep elusive.  He and Tom had chatted happily about their plans
for the first few hours and then they had both pulled out their books and
silently lost themselves in the world of literary fantasy.  Still not
accustomed to reading, Tom’s eyes had grown heavy after only an hour and
following a meal of store bought sandwiches, he had gladly laid his head onto
Booker’s lap and fallen asleep.  The atmosphere was peaceful, only twenty
people sat scattered throughout the coach, most reading or sleeping.  Tom and
Dennis sat to the rear, away from the bulk of the passengers.  They did not
want their conversations overheard by listening ears.  Technically, they were
both runaways, which meant a member of the public could report them if they
perceived the boys to be in danger.  That was one of Dennis’ greatest fears. 
In the city, it was easy to remain nameless.  People lived busy lives and most
did not even notice the scores of dirty children who solicited on the streets. 
Moving to the country posed more of a risk.  Two young boys traveling alone
could cause people to start asking questions.  Booker was sure he could pass
for eighteen but Tommy was a different story.  He looked younger than his
fifteen years, which meant he was likely to receive unwanted attention as to
why he was traveling with Booker.  Dennis’ only plan was that they masquerade
as brothers, with Booker playing the role of guardian.  They had no
identification to back up their story but they hoped most would take it at face
value and not pursue the matter further.
Feeling Tom shift position, Booker instinctively looked down.  He smiled
lovingly when he saw Tom’s sleepy eyes gazing up at him.  “Hey beautiful,” he
whispered, “Did you have a good rest?”
Tom nodded drowsily as a soft smile played upon his lips.  “I’m horny,” he
murmured softly, “Play with me.”
Booker’s eyes flickered with arousal at Tom’s words.  Looking around the coach,
he could see that their closest neighbor was a man five rows to their right. 
His heart fluttered as he bowed his head low so he could whisper in Tom’s ear. 
“Are you sure?” he murmured, his cock already beginning to twitch at the
anticipation of feeling Tom’s erection in his hand.
“Touch me,” Tom breathed as his liquid brown eyes, pleaded with Dennis.
Not needing any further encouragement, Booker reached under the coat and
unbuttoned Tom’s jeans before carefully pulling down the zipper.  Reaching into
Tom’s boxers, he gently freed his cock.  Tom let out a soft moan and closed his
eyes as Dennis gently played with his growing erection.  Leaning forward,
Booker whispered, “Open your eyes, I want you to look at me.”
Tom did as Booker asked and he gazed up at his lover as Dennis tugged and
fondled his cock.  He could see the excitement in Booker’s face at the
clandestine way he was able to touch his lover without anyone on the coach
noticing.  Dennis felt Tom start to rock his hips as his erection enlarged. 
“Harder,” Tom whispered his dark eyes wildly imploring with Dennis to comply.
Smiling impishly, Booker immediately slowed his pace.  He wanted to hear Tom
plead for release and knowing that he would have to do it quietly made it even
more thrilling.  “Beg me,” he murmured as his hand stilled, causing Tom to bite
down on his lower lip to prevent himself from groaning.
“Please!” Tom begged through clenched teeth, “Dennis please… I need you to
touch me.”
“Like this?” Booker whispered as he once again tugged at Tom’s cock.
Tom only managed a nod as he concentrated on not crying out.  Booker grinned
down at his lover and began to work his fist over Tom’s hardened cock.  Tom’s
eyes widened as he felt his impending orgasm rising.  His teeth clamped down
hard on his lower lip and blood slowly began to seep out.  Booker quickened his
pace as their eyes locked.  He felt his own erection straining against his
jeans but he ignored it, intent on giving Tom the release he needed.  With a
soft cry, Tom’s body shuddered as he ejaculated, his semen covering Dennis’
fingers and the coat concealing his body.  Booker looked up and saw the man
sitting in front of them staring back, his eyes emitting a glare of disgust. 
Booker could not resist a cheeky grin and the man looked away.  Tucking himself
in and zipping up his jeans, Tom struggled to a sitting position.  Leaning
over, he kissed Booker lightly on the lips and murmured, “Do you need me to
return the favor?”
Booker’s eyes glinted with desire, but he shook his head as he reached into his
pocket and pulled out a couple of Kleenex.  Handing one to Tom, he wiped at his
messy fingers with the other.  “Better not,” he muttered, “I think that guy
over there almost had a heart attack and I don’t want us kicked off the coach.”
Dabbing at the inside of his coat and the bottom of his shirt, Tom smirked
wickedly.  “It would almost be worth it,” he chuckled, “Just imagine the look
on his face if I bent down and starting sucking you off.”
Dennis’ stomach flip-flopped at the thought of Tommy giving him head right
there on the bus.  His cock ached for release but he did not want to risk it. 
Shaking his head, he muttered, “Nah, I’ll just go jerk off in the toilet, be
back in minute.”
Pouting at not being able to pleasure his lover, Tom stared out at the inky
blackness outside.  Tasting blood, he wiped at his lip and smiled to himself. 
He had enjoyed their little sex-capade knowing that at any moment someone could
walk down the isle of the coach and discover what they were doing.  Tom found
the illicit act thrilling and he started imagining other places where he and
Booker could secretly explore each other’s bodies.  Looking up he saw the man
Booker had told him about, staring at him with a scowl on his face.  Tom
sneered at him and the man quickly looked away just as Dennis came back to his
seat.  “Is he bothering you?” Booker asked as he sat down and put a protective
arm around Tom’s shoulders.
Not wanting Dennis to cause a scene, Tom shook his head and relaxed back
against Booker’s body.  Sated from his recent release, Tom closed his eyes and
allowed the hum of the road to soothe him back to sleep.
                                      **
The second leg of their journey was less eventful.  The disgruntled man had
positioned himself as far away from Tom and Dennis as he could and the boys
found themselves alone at the back of the coach.  Dennis slept most of the way,
his head resting against Tom’s shoulder.  Tom finished The Outsiders and
started on To Kill a Mocking Bird.  The story drew him in immediately and he
ignored the burning in his eyes so he could continue reading.  After several
hours, the heaviness of Booker’s body leaning against him became too
uncomfortable and he nudged Dennis lightly.  Opening his eyes, Booker
remembered where he was and he sat up and stretched his arms into the air as he
yawned loudly.  Leaning over, he placed his lips against Tom’s hair and kissed
him lightly.  Tom closed his book and turning to face his lover, he closed his
eyes as Booker pressed light kisses down his face until their mouths engaged. 
They kissed lazily for several minutes before pulling apart.  Tom smiled
contentedly, his initial uncertainty at leaving the city now a distant memory. 
The last day and a half had been some of the most relaxing that he could
remember.  No longer did he fear physical attacks or abuse from unscrupulous
men, all he felt was love from the boy sitting next to him.  Sensing Booker
staring at him, he looked up and grinned at his boyfriend.  “What?” he asked,
as his eyes searched his partner's face.
“It never ceases to amaze me how beautiful you are,” Booker murmured softly as
he trailed a light finger down Tom’s face and along his jaw line.
Tom blushed with embarrassment, making Dennis laugh.  “Sorry Tommy,” he teased,
taking delight in Tom’s obvious discomfort.  “But you really are very pretty.”
“Shut up,” Tom mumbled sulkily, his lower lip forming a soft pout, “You know I
hate it when you say that.”
Booker moved forward and in an effort to make it right, he attempted to suck on
the inviting flesh but Tom pushed him away crossly.  Not giving up, Booker
whispered in Tom’s ear, determined to apologize, “Sorry baby,” he murmured as
his lips lightly brushed against Tom’s neck, “But I just can’t believe how
lucky I am.”
A slow smile formed on Tom’s lips and his bad mood quickly dissipated. 
Turning, he placed his palm against Booker’s face.  “I’m the lucky one,” he
replied softly, “You rock my world.”
Tears glistened in Dennis’ eyes and he pulled Tom into a tight hug.  He
wondered how he had ever survived before he had met Tom.  It seemed impossible
that he had lived for sixteen years without his friend by his side.  Sighing
contentedly, he settled back against his seat and closing his eyes, he
romanticize about their new life together.
***** A New Beginning *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: “It never ceases to amaze me how beautiful you are,”
     Booker murmured softly as he trailed a light finger down Tom’s face
     and along his jaw line.
     Tom blushed with embarrassment, making Dennis laugh.  “Sorry Tommy,”
     he teased, taking delight in Tom’s obvious discomfort.  “But you
     really are very pretty.”
     “Shut up,” Tom mumbled sulkily, his lower lip forming a soft pout,
     “You know I hate it when you say that.”
     Booker moved forward and in an effort to make it right, he attempted
     to suck on the inviting flesh but Tom pushed him away crossly.  Not
     giving up, Booker whispered in Tom’s ear, determined to apologize,
     “Sorry baby,” he murmured as his lips lightly brushed against Tom’s
     neck, “But I just can’t believe how lucky I am.”
     A slow smile formed on Tom’s lips and his bad mood quickly
     dissipated.  Turning, he placed his palm against Booker’s face.  “I’m
     the lucky one,” he replied softly, “You rock my world.”
     Tears glistened in Dennis’ eyes and he pulled Tom into a tight hug. 
     He wondered how he had ever survived before he had met Tom.  It
     seemed impossible that he had lived for sixteen years without his
     friend by his side.  Sighing contentedly, he settled back against his
     seat and closing his eyes, he romanticize about their new life
     together.
A_New_Beginning 
As the bus slowly pulled into the small terminus, Booker opened his eyes. 
Looking out of the window, he realized that it was now morning.  Giving Tom a
gentle shake, he got up and stretched out his tired, aching body as Tom grunted
next to him.  Laughing, he placed a hand on Tom’s head and ruffled his hair. 
“C’mon sleepy head, we’re here.”
Tom groaned as he pulled his cramped legs out from underneath him and stood
up.  The coach had emptied quickly and the boys gathered up their belongings
and walked down the aisle and out into the cold morning air.  Tom shrugged into
his coat and buttoned it up before tying his bandanna around his head.  As he
stood stamping his feet in an attempt to keep warm, Booker waited patiently for
their bags to be unloaded.  Each boy now had a new second hand holdall and
several extra articles of clothing.  They felt well equipped to begin their
life afresh in a new town.  Booker had strapped their hard-earned savings to
his body.  Living on the streets for three years made him cautious, especially
when he was in unfamiliar surroundings.  The last thing they needed was for
someone to rob them and leave them with no money to live on.  It could take
several weeks for Booker to find work and consequently they needed the money to
see them through that time.
Picking up the two bags, Booker wandered over to Tom who was rubbing his hands
in an attempt to warm them.  Dennis handed Tom his bag and indicated with a nod
of his head towards the small, enclosed waiting area.  “C’mon, let’s get inside
and work out what we’re gonna do.”
Inside, several plastic seats lined the walls and a coffee vending machine sat
in one corner.  Booker took several coins out of his pocket and filled two cups
with steaming black coffee.  Looking over at Tom, he thought his lover looked
lost and vulnerable.  For a moment, Dennis began to doubt whether they were
doing the right thing.  They had traveled thousands of miles across the country
and they were now in a strange town with nowhere to stay and no idea of how to
make money.  Glancing outside, he saw heavy snow falling from the dreary,
leaden sky.  It was colder than in the city they had left behind and a moment
of panic squeezed at Booker’s chest.  He had hoped to find some type of outside
laboring work but he doubted there would be much on offer this time of year. 
All of a sudden, he realized that their plan was full of eventualities that
they had not considered and the tightness in his chest increased.  He took a
deep calming breath as he tried to steady his shaking hands.  He did not want
Tom to see the fear and doubt in his eyes and start to question their
decision.  After all, they had only just arrived.  Dennis smiled to himself and
shook his head slightly.  Nerves were getting the better of him.  They had
enough money to see them through for nearly a month if they were careful.  As
long as he kept enough money for return tickets if things did not work out as
planned, everything would be all right.
Putting the worry out of his mind, he carried the two cups over to where Tom
was sitting.  As he handed one to his lover he studied Tom’s tired, pale face. 
The red, angry choke marks around Tom’s neck were once again visible now that
he had loosened his coat.  Booker felt anger course through his weary body but
he pushed it down in an effort to remain calm.  They were out of that situation
now and he hoped that no one would ever again lay a hand on his beloved Tommy. 
Sitting down, he smiled at his lover as he blew gently on his scolding beverage
in an effort to cool it down.  “We need to come up with a last name if we’re
gonna pretend to be brothers,” he whispered so the lone station guard sitting
behind the ticket counter did not hear them.  
Tom’s face lit up as a name immediately popped into his head.  “How ‘bout
Curtis?” he suggested, citing the surname of his favorite Outsider character.
Booker grinned back.  “Dennis and Tommy Curtis… hmm, I like it.  So the next
thing is to find a place to stay.”
“What about him?” Tom nodded his head towards the station guard.  “He could
tell us where the cheapest place is.”
Booker studied the elderly guard for several minutes.  He needed to be
carefully about what information he divulged and to whom he told it to, as he
did not want to raise any undue suspicions.  Eventually, Tom’s obvious fatigue
helped Booker to make his mind up.  They needed a place to stay and they needed
it now.  Standing up, he wandered casually over to the ticketing booth.  “Hi,”
he greeted cheerfully.  “I’m just wondering if you could tell me if there was a
cheap place to stay in town.  My brother’s had a long journey and we could
really do with some rest.”
The elderly man looked up from his newspaper and scrutinized Dennis and Tom
before answering, “How long you planning on staying?”
Using his most engaging smile, Booker replied, “A while I hope.  I’m looking
for work and I want to enroll my brother in school here.”
A deep scowl blackened Tom’s face.  It was the first he had heard Booker
mention that he wanted him to go back to school.  As he rose to his feet and
started to complain, Booker turned and shot him a look that told him to keep
his mouth shut.  Tom sat back down, his expression sullen as he gave Booker a
furious look.  He was outraged that Booker once again felt the need to treat
him like a child.  They were only ten months apart in age and yet Dennis always
assumed the adult role.  Tom began to feel that there might be a lot more that
Booker had failed to discuss with him.  He suddenly felt extremely alone.  If
he could not trust Booker, who could he trust?
The station guard scratched his head for a moment before replying, “You could
try the Henderson’s place, they sometimes let out their converted barn to
farmhands and the like.  Don’t know if they’re looking for laborers but they’re
real nice folks and they’ll treat you right.”
Dennis felt a huge burden lift from his shoulders.  The Henderson farm sounded
idyllic, especially if there was work on offer.  “How far out of town is it?”
he asked, trying hard to keep the excitement out of his voice.
The old man pondered for a moment.  “About four mile, give or take.  Fit young
lads like yourselves should be able to walk it in no time, even with the snow.”
Booker grinned happily, as he asked the guard to draw him a map.  Thanking the
man for his help, he returned to give his lover the good news.  Tom greeted him
with a thunderous look and Booker knew all too well that the teen was about to
explode.  “Don’t,” he warned, as he shoved Tom’s bag into his arms.  “Wait ‘til
we get outside.”
Angrily pushing the door open, Tom walked outside.  The cold hit him
immediately and he dropped his bag so he could button up his coat.  When a hand
lightly touched his shoulder, he shrugged it off and turned to face Booker. 
“I’m not going to school!” he yelled, his eyes flashing with fury.  “Who the
fuck do you think you are, you fucking asshole?  You can’t tell me what to do!”
“Who am I?” Dennis screamed back, his over-tiredness finally making him snap. 
“I’m the fucking guy whose gonna be working my ass off to keep a roof over your
head you selfish little prick!”
Tears pricked at Tom’s eyes and lifting up his bag, he stormed off down the
road.  He heard Booker calling after him but he did not stop.  Blinded by his
tears and the falling snow, he did not see the man walking towards him until he
bumped into him.  “Whoa,” the man said, as he grabbed Tom by the shoulder, “Is
everything okay son?”
Before Tom could answer, Booker arrived at his side, panting heavily from the
exertion of running through the snow.  “Sorry,” Dennis apologized to the
middle-aged man, “My brother’s a little tired and upset.”
Casting his eyes over Dennis and Tom, Jonathan Wilson wondered what two boys
were doing wandering outside with their bags in a middle of a snowstorm.  As he
studied their faces, he thought the younger of the two looked overwrought and
in need of some care and attention.  The older one he surmised, was more in
control and unlikely to break down under duress.  When he saw the younger boy
start to shiver, he knew he could not just walk away.  “Where are you headed?”
he asked kindly, “I could give you a lift if you want.”
Booker narrowed his eyes and stared at the man guardedly.  He had lived on the
streets long enough to know not to trust strangers, especially men.  As he
started to turn down the man’s invitation, he caught sight of Tom’s tired,
white face and he knew they needed to get out of the cold.  In addition,
neither boy had eaten anything much except a couple of sandwiches over the last
twenty-four hours.  A hot meal certainly would not go astray and Booker felt
certain that once Tom had a full belly and a place to lay his head, his bad
mood would quickly evaporate.
Placing an arm around Tom’s shoulders, Booker addressed the man.  “We’ve just
arrived in town, I’m Dennis and this is my brother Tom.  We could really use
something to eat and the station guard gave us directions to a farmhouse.  He
said they might have somewhere we could stay.”
“The Henderson place?” Jonathan asked and Booker nodded.  Hesitating for just a
moment the man smiled.  “Come on, Betty’s Diner is just across the road.  You
can have a meal then I’ll drive you up to Henry and Lou’s.”
“That would be great, thanks,” Dennis replied gratefully.  Tom refused to
speak, his face still wearing a sullen scowl.  As the man led the way, Booker
pulled Tommy in close.  “Don’t blow this,” he warned.  “At least try and
pretend to be nice.”
Tom jerked free of Dennis’ arm.  “Fuck you,’ he muttered under his breath.  He
felt betrayed by the one person he trusted with his life.  Until Booker could
prove to him that he had not lied about anything else, Tom was in no mood to
forgive and forget. 
 
 
***** A Place to Call Home *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: Placing an arm around Tom’s shoulders, Booker addressed
     the man. “We’ve just arrived in town, I’m Dennis and this is my
     brother Tom. We could really use something to eat and the station
     guard gave us directions to a farmhouse. He said they might have
     somewhere we could stay.”
     “The Henderson’s place?” Jonathan asked and Booker nodded. Hesitating
     for just a moment the man smiled. “Come on, Betty’s Diner is just
     across the road. You can have a meal then I’ll drive you up to Henry
     and Lou’s.”
     “That would be great, thanks,” Dennis replied gratefully. Tom refused
     to speak, his face still wearing a sullen scowl. As the man led the
     way, Booker pulled Tommy in close. “Don’t blow this,” he warned. “At
     least try and pretend to be nice.”
     Tom jerked free of Dennis’ arm. “Fuck you,’ he muttered under his
     breath. He felt betrayed by the one person he trusted with his life.
     Until Booker could prove to him that he had not lied about anything
     else, Tom was in no mood to forgive and forget.
A_Place_to_Call_Home 
Betty’s Diner smelt of bacon and coffee.  Tom and Dennis sat at the counter
devouring huge plates of bacon and eggs.  Jonathan sat next to Booker, watching
the boys eat whilst he sipped at his coffee.  He and Booker engaged in idle
conversation but Tom remained silent throughout, refusing to respond to any of
Dennis’ words or touches.  When they had finished, Jonathan offered to pay the
check but Dennis refused, not wanting to owe the man any favors.  Glancing over
at Tom’s pale face, Jonathan rose from his stool.  “Your little brother looks
tired, I’ll drive you to the Henderson farm so we can see what they say about
you staying there,” he said, as he pulled on his coat.
“I’m not little!” Tom snapped angrily.  “I’m fifteen!”
“Tommy,” Booker warned, his eyes pleading with Tom to calm down.  He turned his
attention to Jonathan and flashed him a half smile.  “Sorry, he’s not normally
this angry; it’s been a long few days.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Jonathan replied reassuringly.  “I have a teenage son
so I know all about mood swings.”
Climbing into the man’s SUV, Booker was grateful for the ride.  The snow lay
heavy on the ground and walking through it would have been hard work.  Within
fifteen minutes, they reached a pleasant looking farmhouse.  Jonathan parked
the car and they walked up to a spacious porch.  Knocking on the rickety screen
door, they waited patiently for the heavy oak door to open.  A rather large
elderly woman peered out, her face flushed from baking.  “Jonathan Wilson!” she
exclaimed happily as she pushed open the door.  “Come in, come in, get out of
the cold.”
They entered the warm kitchen together.  Tom and Dennis hung back, shyness
suddenly rendering them both mute but Jonathan took charge and introduced the
two boys.  “Louisa, this is Dennis and this is Tom, they are looking for a
place to stay and some work if you and Henry can offer any.”
Louisa threw her hands up in the air.  “Oh my Lord!” she exclaimed, as she
rushed over to the two boys.  “You look frozen solid the pair of you.  Come sit
by the fire and warm up and I’ll make a hot drink.”
Tom and Booker found themselves pulled over to a raging fireplace and pushed
down onto two old rocking chairs.  Louisa busied herself making a jug of hot
chocolate, her constant chatter overwhelming the boys who were used to peace
and quiet.  “I’ll have to speak to Henry of course but there’s no reason that I
can see why you can’t have the barn.  It’s fully contained, with two bedrooms
so you won’t have to share.  We’ve some odd chores that need doing.  Henry’s
getting too old to climb ladders and such like so I’m sure he’d appreciate the
help.” 
The woman hesitated for a moment as she stared at Tom.  Embarrassed, Tom ducked
his head so he would not have to bear her scrutiny.  He jumped slightly when he
felt a soft, warm hand stroke his hair.  “This little one should be in school,”
Louisa murmured softly before turning to Booker.  “Where are your parents?”
“Dead,” Dennis replied flatly, his heart hammering in his chest as he waited
for Tom to react to the little reference.
But Tom remained silent, his head still bowed as Louisa’s hand remained resting
on top of his head.
“Oh honey I’m so sorry,” Louisa crooned sadly.  She pondered for a moment as
she continued to stroke Tom’s hair.  Booker caught a glance at Tom’s face and
he saw that the teen’s eyes had closed and his face was tranquil.  Dennis felt
a dull ache in his heart for the boy who craved love and affection from anyone
who would give it to him.  Tears filled his eyes and he quickly brushed them
away before anyone could see.
The sound of heavy boots on the wooden porch had everyone’s heads turning
towards the door.  When it opened, a tall, thin, elderly man walked in.  He
stopped in surprise when he found his kitchen full of people.  He recognized
Jonathan, and taking off his hat, he offered his hand.  “Jon,” he greeted
warmly before stepping up to his wife and giving her a kiss on the cheek.  “So
Mother, who are these two strapping young lads?” he asked pleasantly.
“Henry, this is Dennis and this is Tom.  They’re looking for a place to stay
and some paid work,” Louisa answered.
“Is that right?” Henry Henderson replied, as he looked the two boys over. 
“Where’re you from fellas?”
“California,” Booker answered quickly.  “Our parents died so we’re on our own. 
I’m a hard worker sir, if you give me a chance I know—”
“No need to sell yourself son, I was merely asking a question,” Henry replied
in his slow drawl.  He sat at the old wooden table and took out his pipe.  As
he slowly and meticulously packed it with tobacco, he studied the two teenagers
in front of him.
The clock on the wall ticked loudly as several minutes passed.  Beginning to
feel uncomfortable, Booker stood up and gave the three grownups a weak smile. 
“Thanks for the drinks ma’am, I think maybe Tom and I should be going.”
“Nonsense!” Louisa exclaimed loudly.  Turning to her husband, she stared at him
crossly.  “Henry Stanley Henderson, if you send those boys back out into the
cold I’ll—”
“Calm down Mother,” Henry chuckled, “I didn’t say they couldn’t stay, I was
just having a think.”  Turning towards Jonathan, he puffed heavily on his pipe
and a cloud of sweet smelling tobacco smoke slowly veiled his face.  “What do
you think Jon?” he asked, “I’m not likely to get myself into any bother by
harboring these two runaways am I?”
Booker’s heart leaped into his throat and he stared down at Tom in despair.  He
considered picking up their bags and running but his feet felt as though they
were made of cement.  Tom stared back at him in fear, his dark eyes huge in his
pale, gaunt face.  Booker knew he needed to think quickly but his mind turned
to sludge and he stood beside Tom, his mouth gaping open, unable to speak.
“I don’t think anyone need know Henry, but I do believe they owe you the truth
if you’re going to be kind enough to let them stay,” Jonathan replied softly,
his eyes looking directly at Booker.
Henry nodded his head.  “So,” he said, as he puffed lazily on his pipe.  “Do
you want to tell me what you’re running from?”
Booker felt a tugging at his sleeve and looking down, he saw Tom’s mortified
expression.  “Don’t,” Tom begged in a whisper, “Please Dennis, don’t.”
Louisa dropped to her knees and pulled Tom to her heavy bosom.  “It’s okay
sugar,” she soothed, “You’re not in any trouble, Henry just wants to know your
story, isn’t that right Father?”
“That’s right,” Henry replied quietly.  “Ain’t nothin’ to be afraid of boys, as
long as you tell the truth.”
Booker’s legs felt weak and he sat back down heavily onto the rocking chair. 
He turned to Tommy and begged with his eyes for forgiveness as he slowly
started to tell their story.  When he thought about it afterwards, he was
surprised that he had been so open.  He talked of the beatings, the sexual
abuse and the prostitution. He kept quiet about his and Tom’s relationship,
unsure as to how the elderly couple would react.  As he talked, Louisa dabbed
at her eyes with her apron, occasionally crying out “Oh my boys!” before once
again falling quiet.  Henry sat silently smoking his pipe, his brow drawn into
a deep frown whilst Jonathan remained standing, his jaw clenching and
unclenching as Booker described their living nightmare.
When he had finished, Booker looked across at Tom and saw that his lover had
covered his head with his arms, as if trying to block out the sound of Dennis’
voice.  Reaching across, Booker touched Tom’s thigh but received no response. 
Ignoring the adults, he knelt in front of Tommy’s chair and gently pulled away
his arms.  Tom’s tear stained face stared back at him and leaning forward, he
lightly kissed his lover’s forehead.  The only sound in the room was the loud
ticking of the mantel clock and for several minutes, Dennis held Tom in his
arms, murmuring comforting words into his ear.
The sound of Henry clearing his throat brought Booker back to reality. 
Releasing Tom, Booker stood up and faced his audience.  Henry tapped his pipe
on the table and cleared his throat again before speaking, “I have a couple of
rules if you want to stick around,” he said in a no nonsense manner.  “Rule
number one is the young lad goes to school.”
Tom’s head shot up and he began to protest but Henry interrupted him, “Now, now
lad, it’s for the best.  We’ll tell people you’re our grand nephews, no one
will ask questions.  You’ll thank me one day when you have your education.”
Realizing that arguing was futile, Tom nodded back reluctantly.  Pleased that
he had made inroads, Henry continued, “Rule number two, there’s to be no
cussing in front of Mother, no drinking and no drugs and that includes tobacco,
agreed?”
Both boys nodded silently; too stunned by everything that had happened to
speak.
Henry started to repack his pipe.  His arthritic fingers moved slowly but
precisely as he pushed the loose tobacco into the small bowl.  “Now for the
housing arrangements,” he said as he struck a match on the wooden table and
slowly sucked on the stem of his pipe.  “You can live in the barn.  There’ll be
no cost as long as this one,” he nodded at Booker, “does odd jobs around the
farm.  I can pay a little money, but it won’t be much.”
Tom finally found the nerve to speak up, “Shouldn’t Dennis go to school too?”
he asked grumpily, still not thrilled with the idea that he was being forced
back into the education system.
Henry shook his head slowly.  “Sorry boy, but I can’t afford to send you both. 
It’s one or the other.”
As much as it pained him, Tom knew it would have to be him.  He hated to admit
it but Booker was far more capable of physical labor than he was.  Sighing
heavily, he gave a begrudging smile.  “Okay, I guess it’s gonna be me then.”
Louisa smiled happily, as she took a freshly baked loaf of bread out of the
oven.  Jonathan Wilson shook Henry’s hand and after kissing Louisa on the
cheek, he made his farewells.
As Louisa bustled around the kitchen, fixing pancakes and coffee, Booker’s
emotions overwhelmed him and he pulled Tom into his arms.  “We did it baby,” he
whispered in Tom’s ear, “We’ve finally found a place to call home.”
***** Now and Always *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: Tom finally found the nerve to speak up, “Shouldn’t
     Dennis go to school too?” he asked grumpily, still not thrilled with
     the idea that he was being forced back into the education system.
     Henry shook his head slowly.  “Sorry boy, but I can’t afford to send
     you both.  It’s one or the other.”
     As much as it pained him, Tom knew it would have to be him.  He hated
     to admit it but Booker was far more capable of physical labor than he
     was.  Sighing heavily, he gave a begrudging smile.  “Okay, I guess
     it’s gonna be me then.”
     Louisa smiled happily, as she took a freshly baked loaf of bread out
     of the oven.  Jonathan Wilson shook Henry’s hand and after kissing
     Louisa on the cheek, he made his farewells.
     As Louisa bustled around the kitchen, fixing pancakes and coffee,
     Booker’s emotions overwhelmed him and he pulled Tom into his arms. 
     “We did it baby,” he whispered in Tom’s ear, “We’ve finally found a
     place to call home.”
Now_and_Always 
After a second breakfast of pancakes and syrup, Louisa had escorted the boys
outside and to their new residence.  The Hendersons had converted the barn into
a two bedroom house, complete with bathroom and an open plan kitchen and living
area.  The décor was modern and light, giving the illusion of space.  Tom
walked from room to room, his eyes wide with excitement.  Never in his life had
he stayed anywhere so beautiful and he felt overwhelmed by how lucky he was. 
Louisa watched on, occasionally dabbing at her eyes when her emotions got the
better of her.  She explained how all the appliances worked but insisted that
Tom and Dennis eat with them every night up at the farmhouse.  When she saw
their meager possessions, she offered to take the boys shopping.  Booker
politely refused but when Louisa pointed out that Tom would need new clothes
for school, otherwise he might be teased for looking different, Dennis
reluctantly said yes but only if they paid for some of the purchases.  Wiping
at her teary eyes, the old woman agreed.  Kissing the two boys on the cheek,
she finally left them to enjoy their new home.
Booker stood at the window and watched Louisa walk down the narrow path and
disappear from sight.  Drawing the curtain, he latched the door before turning
to Tom.  “Hey gorgeous,” he murmured, as he laid his hands on his lover’s hips
and leaned in for a kiss. 
Tom backed away, his expression worried.  “Maybe we shouldn’t, what if they see
us?” he muttered, his eyes staring at the locked door as if expecting Louisa or
Henry to burst in at any moment.
“It’s locked Tommy,” Booker replied, putting his fingers in the belt loops of
Tom’s jeans and pulling the teen close.  “They’d have to knock first.”
Tom’s expression relaxed slightly and he let Booker kiss him lightly on the
lips.  Wanting more, Booker’s fingers moved downwards and he cupped Tom’s groin
in his hand.  “Let’s try out the bed,” he whispered as he nipped and sucked on
Tom’s earlobe.
“I’m tired,” Tom murmured, although his body contradicted his words and his
cock began to swell as Booker stroked and fondled him through his jeans.
Dennis’ voice was gentle as he whispered, “You can lie back and let me do all
the work.”
Tom grinned as he nuzzled into Booker’s neck.  “Will you suck me slowly?” he
asked, his voice husky with arousal.
Moaning quietly, Booker replied, “Whatever you want baby,” as his hands moved
to Tom’s buttocks.  Patting a cheek playfully, he took hold of Tom’s hand and
led him into the larger of the two bedrooms.  He quickly undressed as Tom stood
looking on.  Once naked, he took pleasure in undressing Tom, taking time to
kiss and lick at his bare flesh.  Finding Tom’s hot mouth, he kissed him
passionately as he gently steered him backwards towards the bed.  They crawled
onto the mattress, their mouths clashing as their fervor intensified.  Breaking
apart, Booker gazed down lovingly at his boyfriend.  “Do you still want me to
suck you baby?” he whispered, as he stroked a finger over Tom’s pouting lips.
“Play with me first,” Tom murmured, as he smiled drowsily, “and I wanna watch
you touch yourself.”
Kneeling up, Booker told Tom to bend his knees and spread his legs. 
Positioning himself in between Tom’s thighs, he began to stroke and caress
Tom’s growing erection whilst gently touching his own swelling cock.  Tom’s
eyes turned black as his pupils dilated.  “Kiss it,” he whispered, wanting to
feel Dennis’ warm lips against his engorged head.  Grinning, Booker placed both
hands on either side of Tom’s body and ducking his head, he pressed his lips
lightly against Tom’s cockhead.  A loud groan from Tom made him smile and he
sucked gently using only his lips before darting out his tongue and swirling it
around the weeping tip.  Tom’s hips pushed upwards, signaling that he wanted
more.  “Suck me Dennis,” Tom begged softly, his fingers entwining in Booker’s
dark hair.  Taking a deep breath, Dennis took Tom into his mouth.  The feel of
Booker’s hot mouth wrapped around his cock had Tom crying out with ecstasy.  He
forcefully jerked up his hips and his cock rammed deep into Booker’s throat. 
Holding Dennis’ head, Tom thrust in and out of his lover’s mouth, groaning
loudly.  Booker grasped his own erection and started to pull, his soft moans
vibrating against Tom’s cock.  “I’m coming,” Tom panted, “Oh fuck Dennis… so
good… so good… so… FUUUCK!”  Tom’s scream resonated around the room as his
orgasm shot into Booker’s willing mouth. 
Swallowing deeply, Dennis did not take his usual time to lap and kiss at Tom’s
softening cock.  He immediately sat up so Tom could watch him as he tugged at
his hard, weeping cock.  He started to groan when he saw Tom’s hypnotized
expression.  “Faster,” Tom instructed as he licked his lips in anticipation. 
“Oh fuck,” Booker gasped, as his hand worked faster and faster and he stared
deep into Tom’s eyes.  “Tommy… Tommy… I love… I love… I love… YOOOU!”  Tom
watched in delight as semen spurted over Booker’s fingers and his body
shuddered violently.  When the spasms finally subsided, Dennis slumped forward
onto Tom’s torso, panting heavily. 
Tom coiled his legs around his lover’s body and held him tight.  “I love you
too,” he whispered into Dennis’ ear, “Now and always.”
Booker moaned happily before lifting his head and pressing his lips against
Tom’s.  “Now and always,” he repeated softly as gazed down at his lover, “That
means forever.”
“Forever and ever,” Tom murmured, as his eyelids grew heavy.  “You’re my
everything.”
Smiling happily Booker rolled over and pulled Tom so he was spooned against
him.  “And you’re mine,” he whispered before closing his eyes and drifting into
a contented sleep.
                                      **
Waking several hours later, Tom and Dennis spent a blissful hour lazing on the
comfortable bed before showering and dressing.  They wandered around the barn,
opening cupboards and exploring the rooms before unpacking.  As they began to
hang their clothing in the main bedroom’s closet, Tom suddenly paused.  “Maybe
I should put my clothes in the other room and mess up the bed, you know, so
they think I sleep there.”
Booker’s brow knitted into a frown.  “Would you care if they found out that you
slept with me?” he asked warily, afraid of ruining Tom’s good mood.
Tom rubbed at the back of his neck.  “I dunno, I mean, they’re old and they
might not understand,” he replied.
Booker grinned widely.  “If you don’t want them to find out, you’d better stop
screaming my name, ‘cause I reckon they heard you back in California.”
Grabbing a shirt from the closet, Tom swiped playfully at Booker’s legs.  “Yeah
right, I reckon it was you who was making all the noise,” he laughed as he
began to mimic Booker’s post orgasm mutterings, “I love you Tommy, oh Tommy, I
love you!”
Dennis’s face turned red.  “Asshole,” he muttered with a grin as he continued
to unpack his clothes.  “You’re just as bad.”
“That’s ‘cause you make me hot,” Tom murmured, stepping forward and kissing
Dennis tenderly on the lips whilst his hands clutched at his shirt front.
Booker pushed him gently away.  “Don’t start, ‘cause this time I might not be
able to stop.”
Tom’s eyes searched Dennis’ face for an explanation but his lover quickly
averted his eyes.  A sinking feeling pulled at Tom’s stomach and picking up his
clothes, he carried them into the other room.  He recognized that Booker needed
more and he wanted to give him more but he still did not feel ready to
surrender his body completely. 
He wondered if he would ever know when the right time would be. 
 
***** Learning to Fly *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: Booker’s brow knitted into a frown.  “Would you care if
     they found out that you slept with me?” he asked warily, afraid of
     ruining Tom’s good mood.
     Tom rubbed at the back of his neck.  “I dunno, I mean, they’re old
     and they might not understand,” he replied.
     Booker grinned widely.  “If you don’t want them to find out, you’d
     better stop screaming my name, ‘cause I reckon they heard you back in
     California.”
     Grabbing a shirt from the closet, Tom swiped playfully at Booker’s
     legs.  “Yeah right, I reckon it was you who was making all the
     noise,” he laughed as he began to mimic Booker’s post orgasm
     mutterings, “I love you Tommy, oh Tommy, I love you!”
     Dennis’s face turned red.  “Asshole,” he muttered with a grin as he
     continued to unpack his clothes.  “You’re just as bad.”
     “That’s ‘cause you make me hot,” Tom murmured, stepping forward and
     kissing Dennis tenderly on the lips whilst his hands clutched at his
     shirt front.
     Booker pushed him gently away.  “Don’t start, ‘cause this time I
     might not be able to stop.”
     Tom’s eyes searched Dennis’ face for an explanation but his lover
     quickly averted his eyes.  A sinking feeling pulled at Tom’s stomach
     and picking up his clothes, he carried them into the other room.  He
     recognized that Booker needed more and he wanted to give him more but
     he still did not feel ready to surrender his body completely. 
     He wondered if he would ever know when the right time would be. 
Learning_to_Fly 
Louisa managed to persuade Henry that it would be in Tom’s best interest to
commence at Lillydale High School after Presidents’ Day.  That gave Tom three
carefree weeks to do as he pleased.  He enjoyed helping Booker around the farm
in any way he could, as that meant he could be close to his lover during the
daytime as well as at night.  He continued to read every day and was close to
finishing To Kill a Mocking Bird.  When Louisa noticed a scribbled drawing on
the back of an old envelope, she immediately took Tom into town and bought him
some art supplies.  Whilst they were there, she had also taken him clothes
shopping in preparation for his first day back at school.  It was the first
time since he was a small boy that Tom owned something that was brand new and
not one of Doug’s cast-offs.  When he came home, Dennis begged him to put on
the new clothing so he could see what he looked like in something other than
ripped jeans and stained t-shirts.  Tears filled Booker’s eyes when Tom stepped
out of the bedroom dressed in a pair of khaki cargo pants, a gray sweatshirt
and sneakers.  A smile played on Dennis’ lips as he noticed the worn bandanna
still tied around Tom’s head.  Walking over, he gently pulled it off.  “You
can’t wear that to school,” he teased gently, “People will think you’re a
delinquent.”
“So?  I don’t give a fuck what they think,” Tom replied sullenly as he tugged
at the unfamiliar clothing.  “I feel stupid, why can’t I wear my clothes?”
Taking Tom by the hand, Dennis led him over to the couch.  Sitting down, he put
his arm around his lover and pulled him close so Tom’s head rested on his
shoulder.  “You want to fit in don’t you?” he asked.  When Tom remained
stubbornly silent, Booker let out a soft sigh.  “This is your second chance
Tommy.  You can get the education you deserve and mix with people your own age,
maybe make some friends and hang out—”
“I don’t need friends,” Tom muttered, “I have you.”
“That’s not the same,” Booker replied, as he lightly toyed with Tom’s hair. 
“It’ll do you good to spread your wings a little instead of always being with
me.”
Jerking away from Dennis’ arm, Tom stared at his boyfriend in disbelief.  “I
thought you liked having me around!  Now you sound like you can’t wait to get
rid of me.”
Placing a hand at the back of Tom’s head, Booker pulled him in close.  “You
know I want you with me,” he murmured lovingly as his lips played lightly over
Tom’s pout.  “But there’s a big wide world out there Tommy and I want you to
experience it.”
Deep down, Tom knew that Booker was right.  What Henry and Louisa had offered
him was a second chance and he felt incredibly fortunate that two elderly
strangers were prepared to take a gamble and give them a safe place to stay,
especially after knowing his and Booker’s background.   Tom lay back on the
couch and playfully pulled Booker on top of him.  “Okay,” he conceded with a
smile, as Booker’s hot mouth explored his neck whilst his hands found their way
under Tom’s sweatshirt so they could stroke and tweak his nipples.  “I’ll be a
good boy,”
Dennis moaned into Tom’s mouth.  “Show me what a good boy you are,” he
whispered longingly.
Smiling in amusement, Tom used his hands and mouth to show Booker exactly how
good he could be.
                                      **
As the time for Tom to start school drew nearer, the teen’s nerves returned and
he became moody and withdrawn.  Booker tried his best to reassure his lover
that everything would be all right but more often than not, they ended up in an
argument.  Tom accused Dennis of not understanding how difficult it was for him
and Booker accused Tom of overreacting.  Louisa’s intuition told her that the
boy’s were going through a difficult time, so on the night before Tom started
school, she suggested that they eat alone in their own home, rather than in the
farm house with her and Henry as they usually did.  She cooked a huge meal of
roast beef and vegetables, which she carried over to the barn.  She immediately
noticed Tom’s moody disposition, so after instructing the boys to reheat the
food on a low temperature in the oven, she quickly said her goodbyes.
When the barn door had closed, Booker rounded on Tom.  “You could have at least
tried to be nice.  This self pitying bullshit is really starting to piss me
off.”
“Yeah?’ Tom replied, his eyes flashing with anger, “You forever telling me to
be nice is what’s pissing me off!”
Booker picked up plates and cutlery and banged them down heavily as he set the
table.  “Do you know what your problem is Tom McQuaid?  You’re an ungrateful
little shit.  Henry and Louisa are offering you an unbelievable chance to make
something of yourself and all you do is whine.  For fuck’s sake!  You really
need to start growing up and stop feeling so fucking sorry for yourself.  So
you had a shit life.  Well guess what, so did I!  You’re not special because
your Dad beat and raped you.  It happens to hundreds of kids every day and I
bet if they were given the opportunity you’ve been given, they’d embrace it,
not fucking moan about how hard it is.”
Tom stared back at Booker silently, his hands balled into fists.  “Have you
finished?” he asked through clenched teeth.
Rubbing his hands roughly over his face in frustration, Booker turned away and
checked to see if the food was ready.  “Yeah Tommy, I’ve finished.  Do what you
want, I’m too tired to care.”  He heard a loud bang and when he turned back,
Tom was gone.  Turning off the oven, he checked in their bedroom but there was
no sign of his lover.  Opening the door to the spare room, he saw Tom curled up
on top of the bed.  He hesitated a moment before speaking wearily.  “Come on
Tommy, dinner’s ready.”
“I’m not hungry,” Tom mumbled, his voice sounding teary.
With a sigh, Booker entered the room and sat on the bed.  Placing a hand on
Tom’s leg, he spoke gently but firmly.  “You need to eat.”
“Why?” Tom muttered into the pillow.  “It’s not gonna make me any smarter.”
“Is that what’s bothering you?” Booker asked quietly.  When Tom did not
respond, Booker crawled onto the bed and pulled Tom into his arms.  “Oh Tommy,”
he breathed as he gently wiped the tears from his lover’s cheek.  “I’ve told
you before, it’s not that you’re not smart, it’s just that you’ve never been
given a chance.  But Henry and Louisa are giving you that chance.  You may not
believe it, but I’m really proud of you.”
Rolling over, Tom turned his tear stained face to Booker.  “Really?” he asked
shyly.
“Really,” Dennis replied as he kissed Tom’s wet cheek.  “Now come and eat
something otherwise Louisa will get upset.”
Allowing Booker to lead him from the bedroom, Tom sat at the kitchen table and
picked at his food.  His stomach had churned itself into a tight knot and he
had no appetite.  Dennis did not push him, deciding that it was better to leave
Tom alone rather than baby him and risk another argument.  When Booker stood up
and started washing the dishes, Tom did not offer to help.  Instead, he walked
into their bedroom and shut the door without bothering to say goodnight.  For a
brief moment, Booker considered storming into the bedroom and telling Tom once
again, what he thought of his behavior.  However, he decided against it.  He
hoped that once Tom faced his fear and realized that school was not that bad,
everything would return to normal.
Even though he was tired from laboring all day, Dennis sat up until almost
midnight watching television.  When he finally crawled into bed, Tom was fast
asleep.  Sighing heavily, Booker turned his back to his lover and closing his
eyes, he fell into a troubled sleep.
                                      **
Sitting outside the Principal’s office, Tom nervously fingered his tatty
bandanna, which he had secreted in his jacket pocket.  Louisa had offered to
stay with him but Tom had politely declined the invitation, not wanting to
appear weak and incompetent.  Peering through his long bangs, he studied the
students who hurried past on their way to class.  All were well dressed in
modern clothing and Tom was immediately grateful to Henry and Louisa for
spending their hard-earned cash on him in an effort to help him fit in. 
Several students looked at him as they walked past and Tom immediately lowered
his head, too shy to meet their curious stares. 
Several minutes later, Principal Ernest Cowen called Tom into his office. 
Tom’s anxiety level intensified and he felt like vomiting.  Clenching his
fists, he stood up and followed the head teacher into a spacious room.  “Sit
down Thomas,” Cowan instructed, before taking a seat on the other side of the
desk. 
Chewing on his lower lip, Tom had an eerie feeling of déjà vu as he muttered
quietly, “It’s not Thomas, it’s Tom.”
Ernest Cowan looked up from the paperwork he had been studying.  For several
moments he studied the boy in front of him.  Although small for his age, Cowan
thought he had a look of someone who had seen too much of life and not in a
pleasant way.  Louisa Henderson had enrolled the boy as her grandnephew but
Ernest had doubts as to the validity of that statement. However, as most people
regarded Henry and Louisa Henderson as trustworthy pillars of the community,
Cowan was prepared to overlook any inconsistencies in the information Louisa
had provided about her young relative.  In Cowan’s opinion, the teenager in
front of him looked as though he needed some gentle guidance and patient
teachings to get him on the road to success.  Smiling, he offered his
apologies, “Sorry Tom.  I’m Principal Cowan, welcome to Lillydale High.  Now,
there are a few formalities we need to take care of as it appears your Great
Aunt has misplaced your school records.”  Cowan was well aware that Louisa had
done no such thing.  When he had explained to her during their meeting that he
could phone Tom’s previous school and have the records sent through, the
elderly woman had visibly paled.  It was then that Cowan knew that the
Hendersons were hiding something.  But he was a fair and compassionate man who
did not believe in denying any child an education.  Therefore, he had assured
Louisa that the records were not necessary.
Tom’s back stiffened as he waited for the Principal to continue.  He knew what
was coming next.  Louisa had explained to him that because of the lack of
information regarding his academic achievements, he would have to sit a test to
determine which grade he would be best suited to start in.  The knot in his
stomach squeezed tighter as his blood pressure increased.  The pounding in his
ears almost prevented him from hearing what Principal Cowan said next.  “… so
you’ll sit the test and that will give us an idea as to where you are,
academically speaking.  We offer many programs here at Lillydale that are
designed to help those with learning difficulties and—”
“Learning difficulties?” Tom repeated, his face flushing red with anger.  “Are
you calling me stupid?”
Principal Cowan leaned back in his chair and projected a calming presence.  “No
Tom, I’m not calling you stupid.  If you had let me finish you would know that
I was about to add that we also have programs to help students catch up when
they have missed a lot of schooling.  Your Aunt mentioned that due to family
circumstances, you had been unable to attend your old school on a regular
basis.”
“Oh,” Tom mumbled, as his blush deepened, this time from embarrassment. 
“Sorry.”
Smiling, Ernest Cowan stood up.  “That is quite all right.  I encourage my
students to ask questions, it helps to build confidence.  Now, let’s find you a
quiet space so you can take your test.”
                                      **
It was lunchtime when Tom finally finished taking his exam.  He felt tired and
he hoped that he had answered enough questions correctly to put him into the
mainstream ninth grade.  Louisa had packed him a sandwich and an apple so he
followed the throng of students out into the quadrangle where he found a
secluded table underneath a large pine tree.  Sitting down, he ate his sandwich
whilst watching various groups of children eating, playing ball and generally
fooling around.  He felt completely alone and his mind immediately turned to
Dennis.  In the four months he had known Booker, they had hardly spent any time
apart.  It suddenly occurred to Tom that Doug would be due for release in a
couple of months.  It surprised him that he had not realized that it would be
so soon.  He and Booker had just moved across the country to start a new life
but in nine short weeks, Tom would have to go back and find his brother.  He
wondered if Booker was aware that Doug was nearing the end of his sentence. 
He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not see an attractive blond-haired
girl sit down opposite him.  He looked up with a start when she spoke.  “Hey,
are you new here?  I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
Tom stared back mutely, too taken aback to speak.  “Cat got your tongue?” the
girl teased as she smiled at Tom pleasantly before sticking out her hand.  “I’m
Becca, Becca Ellis and you are?”
Tom shook his head slightly before taking the girl’s hand in his and giving it
a light shake.  “Tom Curtis,” he replied, remembering to use the name that he
and Booker had chosen.
“How old are you?” she asked, her bright blue eyes never leaving Tom’s face.
“Um, fifteen,” Tom mumbled awkwardly.
Becca studied Tom for a moment before stating boldly, “You’re very pretty for a
boy, the girls are gonna love you.  Do you have a girlfriend?”
Too dumbstruck by the girl’s forwardness to comprehend the question fully, Tom
shook his head.  Becca smiled as she stood up.  “Excellent.  See you around Tom
Curtis.”
As Tom watched her leave, a small smile graced his lips.  He had made his first
school friend.
                                      **
Reporting to Principal Cowen after lunch, Tom received the results of his
entrance exam.  The news was not what Tom wanted to hear and he sat scowling as
Ernest advised him of his schedule.  He was to start in the eighth grade Make
It Up! program which catered for those who had slight learning difficulties or
had missed a lot of schooling.  Sensing that Tom had not taken the news well,
Cowan dismissed him for the day to give him time to come to terms with his new
curriculum.
It took Tom over an hour to walk home.  He dragged his feet, too depressed to
take in the stunning scenery on either side of the roadway.  As he walked up
the long, winding driveway, Louisa waved to him from the garden and quickly
came bustling over.  “Tommy dear, why didn’t you get the school to ring me and
tell me you were coming home early.  I could have picked you up.”
“It’s okay Miz Henderson, I wanted to walk,” Tom replied quietly.
“Silly boy,” Louisa scalded lovingly.  “It’s Aunty Lou remember?”
Tom nodded and managed a weak smile.  “Sorry Aunty Lou.  Do you mind if I go
lie down, I’ve got a headache,” he lied.
Louisa reached out and stroked Tom’s pale face.  “Are you okay honey?  Do you
want to talk about it?”
Shaking his head, Tom turned and walked the short distance to the barn.  As
soon as he had closed the door, his eyes filled with tears.  He walked into the
bedroom, undressed down to his boxers and crawled under the warm comforter.  As
he sobbed into his pillow, he heard the front door open and close and moments
later Booker had kicked off his boots and was lying beside him, a cold hand
gently stroking his face.  “Oh baby,” he crooned softly, “Tell me what
happened.”
Desperate for comfort, Tom laid his head on Dennis’ chest.  “I’m in the fucking
eighth grade Booker,” he sobbed with shame.  “They put me in some fucking class
for people with learning disabilities.  It’s bullshit!  I don’t want to go
back.”
“Are you sure that’s what it is Tom?” Booker asked with care, certain that Tom
had misunderstood. 
Tom thought about it for a moment, before replying, “Well, he said it was for
people with slight learning difficulties and those who’d missed a lot of
school, but it’s the same thing.”
Booker laughed aloud and pulled Tom into his arms.  “No it’s not you idiot!  It
just means you have some catching up to do.  There’s nothing to be ashamed of
Tommy, they’re not labeling you, they’re trying to help you.”
Not liking Booker laughing at him, Tom pulled away, his face sulky.  Unwilling
to let Tom brood, Dennis leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the nose. 
Tom tried to refrain from laughing but when Booker did it again, he smiled
broadly before pulling his lover into his arms and kissing him heatedly.  When
they broke apart, Tom gave Booker a serious look.  “Are you sure they’re not
calling me stupid?” he asked tentatively, wanting to believe his lover but not
confident enough in his own abilities to do so.
“I promise,” Booker replied tenderly as he brushed Tom’s hair from his tired
face.  “Trust me Tommy, if you study hard you’ll soon be ahead of your
classmates.”
Tom smiled happily.  Maybe Booker’s right, he thought as he lay in his lover’s
arms.  Maybe this time, everything will okay.
***** Orientation *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: Shaking his head, Tom turned and walked the short
     distance to the barn. As soon as he had closed the door, his eyes
     filled with tears. He walked into the bedroom, undressed down to his
     boxers and crawled under the warm comforter. As he sobbed into his
     pillow, he heard the front door open and close and moments later
     Booker had kicked off his boots and was lying beside him, a cold hand
     gently stroking his face. “Oh baby,” he crooned softly, “Tell me what
     happened.”
     Desperate for comfort, Tom laid his head on Dennis’ chest. “I’m in
     the fucking eighth grade Booker,” he sobbed with shame. “They put me
     in some fucking class for people with learning disabilities. It’s
     bullshit! I don’t want to go back.”
     “Are you sure that’s what it is Tom?” Booker asked with care, certain
     that Tom had misunderstood.
     Tom thought about it for a moment, before replying, “Well, he said it
     was for people with slight learning difficulties and those who’d
     missed a lot of school, but it’s the same thing.”
     Booker laughed aloud and pulled Tom into his arms. “No it’s not you
     idiot! It just means you have some catching up to do. There’s nothing
     to be ashamed of Tommy, they’re not labeling you, they’re trying to
     help you.”
     Not liking Booker laughing at him, Tom pulled away, his face sulky.
     Unwilling to let Tom brood, Dennis leaned forward and kissed him
     lightly on the nose. Tom tried to refrain from laughing but when
     Booker did it again, he smiled broadly before pulling his lover into
     his arms and kissing him heatedly. When they broke apart, Tom gave
     Booker a serious look. “Are you sure they’re not calling me stupid?”
     he asked tentatively, wanting to believe his lover but not confident
     enough in his own abilities to do so.
     “I promise,” Booker replied tenderly as he brushed Tom’s hair from
     his tired face. “Trust me Tommy, if you study hard you’ll soon be
     ahead of your classmates.”
     Tom smiled happily. Maybe Booker’s right, he thought as he lay in his
     lover’s arms. Maybe this time, everything will okay.
Orientation 
After several weeks attending Lillydale High, Tom finally began to settle in
and he actually started to enjoy school.  Both teachers and students were
slowly managing to chip away at the invisible defense shield he used to protect
himself.  His Make It Up! teacher Mr. Augustine Jones, had nothing but praise
for his newest student.  He found Tom to be both intelligent and hardworking. 
Jones reported to Principal Cowan that he was confident that if Tom kept
working hard, he would be ready for mainstream schooling by the summer break. 
The only subject Tom struggled with was Math.  Therefore, Mr. Jones made the
decision to organize a tutor to give the teen extra lessons.  Tom was hesitant
at first, hating the thought of another teenager trying to teach him.  That was
until he realized his tutor would be Becca Ellis.  Although still shy around
girls in general, Tom enjoyed Becca’s company.  She had introduced him to her
friends and they were gradually beginning to accept him into their group.  The
boys were initially wary; Tom’s good looks made him an instant competitor for
the girls’ attentions.  But when they realized that he showed no interest in
flirting with any of the young women, they soon began to act less threatened
and more welcoming towards the new student.  For the first time in his life,
Tom felt like he belonged.
Arriving home from school one afternoon, Tom immediately sat down at the small
kitchen table and pulled out his books.  He had a geography test in the morning
and he wanted to revise the capital cities of North America.  He really enjoyed
the subject and he loved to imagine what it would be like to visit various
countries around the world.  He had developed a fascination for Australia and
he hoped that one-day, he and Booker would be able to visit the vast, beautiful
continent together. 
Deep in thought, he did not notice that Dennis had entered the barn until a
callused hand stroked his hair.  Looking up, Tom smiled and in reply, he
received a soft, gentle kiss from his lover.  Not satisfied with the token
display of affection, Tom pulled Dennis closer and kissed him deeply.  Booker
moaned into Tom’s mouth and wrapping his arms around his boyfriend, he pulled
him up out of the chair so he could feel Tom’s body pressed against him. 
Groaning quietly Tom broke the kiss and gazed at Booker lovingly.  “I’m
supposed to be studying,” he berated teasingly.  “You’re distracting me.”
“You started it,” Booker replied with a grin as his finger lightly traced
around Tom’s jaw line.  “I just gave you a peck hello, you’re the one who
decided to give me tongue.”
“Mmm,” Tom murmured softly, as Booker’s finger trailed across his full lips. 
“I think maybe I’m due for a break.  Can you think of a way to help me relax?”
Dennis’ laughed quietly.  “I reckon I can think of something,” he replied, as
his gaze traveled down Tom’s slender body.  Leading Tom by the hand and into
the bedroom, Booker positioned his lover so his back was leaning against the
wall.  Tom’s eyes immediately sparkled with arousal, he knew what Dennis was
proposing and he could not be more delighted.  Standing up whilst Booker sucked
him off meant he could easily fuck his boyfriend’s mouth.  Tom loved nothing
more than to see Dennis on his knees, masturbating, whilst he sucked on Tom’s
engorged cock.  His legs quivered with anticipation as Booker knelt down and
slowly unzipped his jeans and let them drop to the floor.  Next, he pulled down
Tom’s boxers.  Feeling Tom’s legs trembling beneath his hands, Booker looked up
and smiled languidly, “Ready?” he asked, as he mischievously licked at his
lips.
Nodding, Tom placed his hands on Dennis’ head and gently guided his lover’s
mouth towards his semi erect cock.  He spent several minutes with his eyes
closed, enjoying the sensation of Booker’s tongue teasing his cock to life. 
Once fully erect, he gazed down at his lover.  “I wanna watch you too,” he
murmured softly as his hand stroked at Booker’s unruly hair. 
Dennis grinned as he quickly unzipped his jeans and released his aching cock. 
“Slow or fast?” he murmured, as he darted his tongue out to lick at Tom’s
weeping slit.
“Slow,” Tom moaned, “Make it last.”
Gently holding onto the base, Booker pressed his lips tenderly against Tom’s
cock, kissing tenderly at the tip before wrapping his lips around the engorged
head.  He sucked gently as he tugged slowly at his own growing erection.  He
could hear Tom’s moans of pleasure as he sucked and licked, stopping
occasionally to pepper kisses along the length of Tom’s erection as he moved
his hand down so he could fondle Tom’s testicles.  Tom’s urgency became
apparent when he began to thrust his hips forward as he sought the warmth of
Booker’s mouth.  Opening his lips, Dennis took Tom completely.  Crying out in
ecstasy, Tom grasped at Booker’s hair and pumped his cock deep into his lover’s
accommodating mouth.  Booker immediately relaxed his throat and allowed Tom
access as he tugged harder at his own throbbing erection.  Tom’s cries became
louder as his orgasm neared.  “So… fuckin’… good,” he gasped huskily as his
hips rocked back and forth.  “I’m close… oh fuck!  Oh Dennis… I’m gonna… I’m
gonna… JEEESUUUS!”
Booker swallowed deeply as Tom semen hit the back of his throat.  Feeling his
own climax about to hit, he worked his fist harder.  Without warning, Tom
pushed him backwards onto the floor and grinning wickedly, he dropped to his
knees and lowering his head, he took Dennis into his mouth.  Booker cried out
in surprise as Tom sucked hard at his engorged head.  Within seconds, he
spilled his seed into Tom’s hot mouth.  Tom slowly lapped and sucked at
Booker’s softening cock before lifting his head and smiled broadly.  “Now that…
that was fun,” he laughed as he took in Booker’s astonished expression.  
Dennis pulled Tom on top of him and gently nipped at his earlobe.  “I didn’t
expect that,” he panted, his body trembling beneath Tom’s.
“That was the whole idea,” Tom murmured as his lips found Dennis’ and they
kissed softly.  A loud rapping at the barn door pulled them apart.  “Shit!” Tom
swore, as he rolled off Booker and quickly scrambling to his feet, pulling up
his boxers and jeans.
Booker laughed loudly.  “Don’t panic Tommy, it’s just Louisa calling us in for
dinner.”
“I know but I don’t want to get caught,” Tom muttered as he hurried out of the
bedroom and opened the door.  He spoke quickly to Louisa before closing the
door.  When he re-entered the bedroom, Booker was buttoning up his jeans.  Tom
reached out and attempted to kiss his lover but Dennis pushed past him and
walked back out into the main living area.  Perplexed, Tom followed, catching
him by the sleeve.  “What’s wrong with you?”
Jerking his arm away, Booker sat down and pulled on his boots.  “Nothing,” he
replied moodily.
“Yeah there is,” Tom replied softly as he stood over his lover.  “Tell me.”
Sighing heavily, Booker lifted his head.  “Why don’t you want anyone to know
about us?” he asked, his gaze penetrating deep into Tom’s eyes.
“Are you kidding me?” Tom blurted out, “Yeah right, let’s tell a couple of
eighty year olds that their two underage lodgers are in a sexual relationship.”
“Homosexual relationship,” Dennis murmured as his expression saddened.  “That’s
the problem with you isn’t it?  You can’t admit you’re gay.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Tom snapped, “I’m not fucking gay!”
Booker let out a scornful laugh.  “You’re fucking joking right?  You suck my
cock and five seconds later you tell me you’re not gay?  So okay, maybe you’re
bi but either way you need to fucking own up to it.  I don’t give a flying fuck
if Louisa and Henry find out about us, we’re not doing anything wrong.”
Tom did not know what to say.  He had not really thought about how being with
Booker defined his sexuality.  Before he met Dennis, he certainly had not been
attracted to boys.  He had looked at girls and thought they were pretty but
because he did not interact with others his age, he had never really had a
schoolboy crush before.  His father’s abuse had essentially warped his view on
sex and it had never been something he had thought too much about before.  That
was until he met Dennis.  Dennis had been his first kiss, his first sexual
encounter outside of rape and prostitution.  It had not really occurred to him
that they were actually in a gay relationship. 
Sitting down, he leaned forward and placed his hands on Dennis’ thighs. 
“You’re right,” he murmured apologetically, “That was stupid of me to say
that.  I don’t know what I am but I do know I love you.  I just don’t want to
upset Louisa and Henry, they might not understand.”
Pouting softly, Booker pulled Tom to his chest.  “I don’t care if they
understand or not, I’m tired of living a lie.  I want to be able to kiss you
whenever I want and not have to worry that the door is locked.”
Tom thought about it for a moment.  “Okay,” he replied slowly, “If you want to
tell them, we tell them.”
                                      **
Sitting in the warm farmhouse kitchen, Henry and Booker were deep in
conversation about fixing a broken fence.  Tom picked nervously at his food,
dreading the moment when the discussion would end and Dennis would take the
opportunity to divulge their secret.
“Not hungry sweetheart?” Louisa addressed Tom, pulling him from his
contemplations. 
Before Tom could answer, Booker interrupted.  “Um, I think Tom’s a little
worried about something we have to tell you.”
“Nothing to worry about boy,” Henry replied in his slow, kind way.  “Best not
to keep secrets.”
Now that Booker had brought up the issue, he instantly began to regret it.  He
had no idea how to tell the elderly couple that he and Tom pleasured each other
sexually.  A pink blush heated his face as he tried to find the right words to
say.  He turned to Tom for help but his lover appeared equally tongue-tied.
“Spit it out lad,” Henry pressed impatiently, “We ain't got all night.”
Sensing that Booker was unable to say what needed to be said, Tom took a deep
breath and blurted out their secret.  “We’re gay!” he exclaimed in a loud
voice.   Booker’s mouth fell open in surprise at the ferocity of Tom’s
statement.
A loud silence followed before Louisa answered in a somewhat amused voice,
“Well yes darling, we know.”
“You know?” Booker uttered in surprise.  “How could you know?”
Without replying, Louisa stood up and busied herself clearing the table.  As it
slowly dawned on Booker, his face flushed a deep red.  “Jesus Christ, you heard
us,” he whispered as he turned to Tom with a look of horror.
“Now, now lad.  Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” Henry admonished quietly
as he pulled out his pipe and began to pack it with his sweet smelling
tobacco.  He took several minutes before he continued.  “Lou an' I try not to
judge, isn’t that right Mother?”
Turning from the sink, Louisa pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear with
a wet hand.  “That’s right.  You can’t help who you fall in love with, well
that’s my opinion on the subject anyway.  So don’t you boys worry about it,
just… well… you are being safe aren’t you?”
“Oh God,” Tom whispered as he ducked his head in embarrassment.
“Um, we don’t… we haven’t… not yet,” Booker spluttered out in reply.
“Well just make sure you are when you do,” Louisa instructed, winking at her
husband.  “Now get along home before you both die of embarrassment."
Tom and Dennis did not need telling twice.  Without looking up, they hurried
back to the sanctuary of their own home.
 
 
***** Confessions *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: Sensing that Booker was unable to say what needed to be
     said, Tom took a deep breath and blurted out their secret.  “We’re
     gay!” he exclaimed in a loud voice.   Booker’s mouth fell open in
     surprise at the ferocity of Tom’s statement.
     A loud silence followed before Louisa answered in a somewhat amused
     voice, “Well yes darling, we know.”
     “You know?” Booker uttered in surprise.  “How could you know?”
     Without replying, Louisa stood up and busied herself clearing the
     table.  As it slowly dawned on Booker, his face flushed a deep red. 
     “Jesus Christ, you heard us,” he whispered as he turned to Tom with a
     look of horror.
     “Now, now lad.  Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” Henry admonished
     quietly as he pulled out his pipe and began to pack it with his sweet
     smelling tobacco.  He took several minutes before he continued.  “Lou
     and I try not to judge, isn’t that right Mother?”
     Turning from the sink, Louisa pushed a stray piece of hair behind her
     ear with a wet hand.  “That’s right.  You can’t help who you fall in
     love with, well that’s my opinion on the subject anyway.  So don’t
     you boys worry about it, just… well… you are being safe aren’t you?”
     “Oh God,” Tom whispered as he ducked his head in embarrassment.
     “Um, we don’t… we haven’t… not yet,” Booker spluttered out in reply.
     “Well just make sure you are when you do,” Louisa instructed, winking
     at her husband.  “Now get along home before you both die of
     embarrassment."
     Tom and Dennis did not need telling twice.  Without looking up, they
     hurried back to the sanctuary of their own home.
Confessions 
Lying in bed the following morning, Tom could hear Booker taking a shower. 
Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was still early.  Closing his eyes, he
thought about the day ahead of him and he wondered if he should say something
to Booker.  He felt stupid bringing it up, it was only another day and yet he
desperately wanted to share it with his lover.  He was beginning to feel that
now might finally be the right time and he wanted to do it before he lost his
nerve.  Hearing the faucets turn off, he waited patiently for Dennis to enter
the bedroom.  Enthralled, he watched his lover dress.  Booker’s body had
transformed dramatically after only a short time.  His upper body was well
toned and muscular from all the hard, physical work he endured day after day. 
Tom eyed him up and down, waiting for his lover to become aware of his
appreciative stare.  When Booker finally turned around, he grinned when he saw
Tom’s expression.  “Pervert,” he laughed, “I wasn’t aware I was the floor
show.”
“Come here,” Tom instructed sleepily, as he held out his arms, “I wanna have
some fun.”
Booker shook his head, “Sorry Tommy, not this morning.  I’ve got loads to do
and Henry’s expecting me.”
“Henry won’t care if you’re late,” Tom murmured, “C’mon, I know you wanna.”
“I said I can’t,” Dennis snapped irritably as he pulled on his boots.  “One of
us has responsibilities.”
Tom glared back angrily.  “Meaning I don’t?  I’ve got school and—”
“Like that’s so fucking hard,” Booker interrupted abruptly.  “I’m tired and I’m
sore and I’ve got to spend the day outside fixing a fence Tom.  I think that’s
a little more demanding than sitting in a heated classroom don’t you?”
Tears filled Tom’s eyes.  “Why are you being so mean?  I only wanted to make
you happy.  There’s something I want to tell you, can’t you wait—”
“Jesus Tommy, I said no okay?  We can talk tonight, I’ve got to go,” Booker
replied hurriedly and picking up his jacket, he left the room.
Tears slowly spilled from Tom’s eyes as the front door opened and slammed
shut.  He pulled Booker’s pillow into his arms and hugged it close, gaining
comfort from the softness of the inanimate object.  He had wanted today to be
special and all he had managed to do was make Booker angry.  Closing his eyes,
he sobbed silently until he eventually fell asleep.
                                      **
Augustine Jones noticed Tom’s sullen mood and considered taking the boy on one
side to try to find out what was bothering him.  During class, he monitored the
young teen closely but quickly concluded that there was no cause for alarm, it
appeared that Tom was just having a bad day.  He wondered if Tom felt nervous
about his first tutoring lesson, which Becca had scheduled for after school
that day.  Jones was well aware that it had taken time for his newest student
to feel comfortable with his peers and a one on one lesson might be a daunting
prospect for a boy who appeared to have spent much of his life without
friends.  Augustine’s curiosity about Tom had peaked early and he had asked the
principal about Tom’s home life.  But Cowan had mysteriously remained tight
lipped, citing only that Tom and Dennis had endured a difficult life but were
now settled with the Hendersons.  Jones was certain that the principal was
keeping something from him but he did not feel in a position to challenge his
superior.  Not that it mattered.  Jones’ directive had always been to give all
his students the best support he could offer, regardless of their behavior or
background.
When the final bell sounded, Augustine called Tom over to his desk.  “Are you
looking forward to Rebecca tutoring you Tom?” he asked conversationally,
attempting to gauge Tom’s level of nerves so he could offer the appropriate
amount of reassurance.
Tom shrugged noncommittally.  “I guess,” he replied.
Jones smiled with encouragement.  “You’ll do great.  Rebecca’s a wonderful
student and she has the gift of being able to relay information in easy to
understand terms.  She’s very patient, so ask questions if you have trouble
comprehending something.  Okay?”
Tom nodded and gave his teacher a lopsided smile.  “No probs Mr. Jones, I’ll do
my best.”
“Good boy,” Jones replied, “I look forward to hearing about it tomorrow.”
Picking up his bag, Tom left the classroom and walked out into the cold
afternoon air.  He saw Becca sitting at a table in the sheltered outdoor lunch
area.  He smiled to himself as he wandered over to join her.
“Hey Tommy!” Becca greeted in a friendly tone.  “Do you want to stay outside or
is it too cold?”
“It’s fine,” Tom answered as he threw his bag on the table and sat down. 
“Unless it’s too cold for you.”
Becca pulled out her books.  “Nah, I like the cold, it helps to clear the
mind.”
Sitting next to Tom, Becca moved in close.  “If it gets too cold we can keep
each other warm,” she teased, laughing lightly as Tom’s face flushed pink.  “So
Tommy, I’m going to teach you everything a fifteen year old needs to know about
math.”
Turning to look at his friend, Tom replied quietly, “Sixteen year old.  Today’s
my birthday.”
Becca’s eyes sparkled.  “Wow, sweet sixteen!  Happy birthday Tommy,” she
exclaimed excitedly and before Tom knew what was happening, she leaned forward
and kissed him.
For a fraction of a moment, Tom responded to the kiss before quickly pulling
away and averting his eyes.  Becca gave him a scrutinizing look as she tried to
figure out Tom’s reluctance.  “Did I do something wrong?” she asked quietly. 
“I thought you liked me.”
Tom rubbed his face with his palms before giving his friend a half smile.  “I
do like you,” he mumbled, “It’s just… Becca, I have a—”
“Girlfriend?” Becca asked in confusion.  “Because I thought you said you didn’t
have one.”
“I don’t,” Tom replied before taking a deep breath.  “Becca, I have a
boyfriend.”
Rebecca’s eyes opened wide with surprise.  “Oh my God!  Really?  I knew you
were too pretty!”  Seeing Tom’s worried expression she laughed loudly.  “Well,
that sucks for me I guess, but don’t worry Tommy, I don’t care whether you’re
gay or straight, I like you.  And your secret’s safe with me, okay?”
“You really don’t care?” Tom asked shyly, before adding, “And I really like you
too, you know, as a friend.”
“Well you kinda ruined my plans for the big dance but hey, I’m sure I’ll find
someone to go with,” Becca replied good-naturedly.  “Or maybe we could still go
together, just as friends.  Anyway, now there are no pent up sexual feelings, I
can devote my time teaching you the wonderful magic of mathematics.”
Tom smiled gratefully.  “Thanks Becca, I’m really glad I met you.”
“I’m glad I met you too Tommy,” Rebecca replied softly, “Now stop
procrastinating and let’s get started.”
As Rebecca started to explain an algebra equation in their workbook, Tom’s mind
started to wander.  For the second time in two days, he had openly admitted
that he was in love with another male.  Now that it was out in the open, he
felt liberated and he knew that he would be able to take the next step and show
Booker how much he loved him.
                                      **
Arriving home, Tom was delighted to see Booker sitting at the table.  Hanging
up his jacket, he rushed across the room.  “I’m so glad you’re home early, I’ve
got something to tell you,” he spluttered excitedly.
Booker lifted his head from his hands and gave Tom a cold stare.  “Is that
right?” he asked frostily.  “I don’t suppose it has anything to do with you
cheating on me does it?”
Tom stopped dead in his tracks.  “What?” he asked in confusion.  “I don’t know
what you’re—”
“Don’t fucking lie to me you little bastard!” Dennis screamed, standing up so
abruptly that he toppled over his chair.  “I fucking saw you kissing that girl
so don’t even try and deny it.”
Staring at Booker in shock, Tom’s mood suddenly turned angry.  “You were spying
on me?  What gives you the fucking right to sneak around behind my back,
watching what I’m doing?”
“So you don’t deny it then?” Dennis spat back angrily.  “And I wasn’t spying on
you!  I came to the school so I could walk you home ‘cause I felt bad about
this morning.  God Tommy, I fucking hate you for this.  The minute some pretty
girl throws herself at you, you can’t wait to see what it’s like on the other
side.  How could you do this to me?  After everything I’ve done, I can’t
believe you would betray me.”
“I haven’t done anything!” Tom cried out in anguish.  “I didn’t kiss her, she
kissed me!  How can you not trust me enough to know that I would never cheat on
you!”
“So what?  She just decided to kiss you right there when you were studying?”
Booker asked disbelievingly as he paced around the room in agitation.  “Come on
Tom, at least give me a convincing lie.”
Tears of anger glinted in Tom’s eyes and unable to control his emotions, he
turned and violently swiped several knickknacks from the shelf beside him. 
“Today’s my fucking birthday you asshole!” he screamed, “I told Becca I was
sixteen and before I knew what was happening, she was kissing me.  I pulled
away, she asked why and I told her.  I fucking told her!  And now the whole
fucking school’s gonna know I’m gay and you hate me and all I wanted this
morning was to tell you… to tell you… oh FUCK!” 
Tom buried his face in his hands and sobbed uncontrollably.  He felt Booker’s
strong arms pulling him into a tight embrace and he did not fight it.  Gentle
hands stroked at his hair as Dennis whispered in his ear.  “Oh Tommy, I’m
sorry.   Shh baby please, please forgive me.  I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Slowly, Tom’s hiccuping sobs abated and he gently pulled away from Booker’s
hold.  Swiping his sleeve across his teary eyes, he stared at Booker somberly. 
“You really thought I would do that to you?”
“I dunno,” Booker replied quietly.  “Maybe I did.”
Tom turned away, his eyes dead.  “You don’t know me at all,” he whispered as he
opened the door and walked out.
 
***** At Last *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: Tears of anger glinted in Tom’s eyes and unable to
     control his emotions, he turned and violently swiped several
     knickknacks from the shelf beside him.  “Today’s my fucking birthday
     you asshole!” he screamed, “I told Becca I was sixteen and before I
     knew what was happening, she was kissing me.  I pulled away, she
     asked why and I told her.  I fucking told her!  And now the whole
     fucking school’s gonna know I’m a faggot and you hate me and all I
     wanted this morning was to tell you… to tell you… oh FUCK!” 
     Tom buried his face in his hands and sobbed uncontrollably.  He felt
     Booker’s strong arms pulling him into a tight embrace and he did not
     fight it.  Gentle hands stroked at his hair as Dennis whispered in
     his ear.  “Oh Tommy, I’m sorry.   Shh baby please, please forgive
     me.  I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
     Slowly, Tom’s hiccuping sobs abated and he gently pulled away from
     Booker’s hold.  Swiping his sleeve across his teary eyes, he stared
     at Booker somberly.  “You really thought I would do that to you?”
     “I dunno,” Booker replied quietly.  “Maybe I did.”
     Tom turned away, his eyes dead.  “You don’t know me at all,” he
     whispered as he opened the door and walked out into the cold, dark
     night.
At_Last 
Having walked blindly for miles, Tom stopped when he realized that darkness had
fallen.  He had forgotten to put on his coat and he shivered with cold.  He had
no idea where he was or how long he had been walking.  A light rain began to
fall and feeling even more miserable, he turned and retraced his steps.  He had
traveled further than he thought and by the time he saw the lights of the
farmhouse, he was soaked to the skin and trembling violently.   For a brief
moment he stood outside the barn, too weary to face Booker and his
accusations.  But knowing that he could not stand outside forever, he opened
the door and walked in.
Booker sat hunched at the table, with his head in his hands.  Louisa sat next
to him, her hand gently rubbing his back.  Both looked up when they heard the
sound of the door.  Crying out, Louisa stood up and ran over to Tom, pulling
him into her arms.  “Oh my darling boy, don’t you ever run off like that again,
we’ve been worried sick for hours.  Henry’s out in the truck with Jonathan
looking for you!  Oh come in by the fire, you’re soaked through, you’re going
to get sick if you don’t get out of those wet clothes.”
“I’m fine Aunty Lou, honest,” Tom mumbled, beginning to feel guilty at the
trouble he had caused.  He allowed Louisa to lead him over to the fire where
she fussed around him like a mother hen.  Tom stole a glance at Booker, whose
head had dropped back into his hands.  Tom saw that his lover’s body was
shaking and he knew Dennis was crying.  He felt ashamed at having put Booker
through so much worry. 
As he was about to speak, Louisa interrupted him as she hurried over to the
window and pulled back the curtain.  “That’s Henry back with Jon, I’d better
let them know that you’re home.”  Turning, she stared at the two boys.  “Are
you both all right or do you need me to come back?”
Booker remained silent so Tom replied somewhat sheepishly, “We’ll be okay. 
Sorry for causing so much trouble.”
Louisa smiled lovingly at Tom.  “Make it right,” she murmured, nodding her head
towards Dennis.  “He’s been in a right state since you went missing.”
Tom nodded, his feeling of guilt intensifying.  He thanked Louisa and waited
until she had left before turning his attention to Booker.  His heart ached at
the sight of his lover sobbing silently as his body quivered with emotion. 
Walking over, he pulled out a chair and sat down next to Dennis.  “Hey,” he
murmured softly as he attempted to pull Booker’s hands from his face.  “I’m
sorry, okay?”
Dennis looked up, his expression full of anguish as he continued to sob.  “I
thought… you’d… left… me,” he hiccuped, as his eyes searched Tom’s face.  “I
was… so… fucking… stupid—”
“Shh,” Tom soothed as his thumb gently wiped the tears from Booker’s distraught
face.  “Don’t you remember, I promised you ages ago that I’d never leave
without telling you first.”
Dennis nodded as he remembered their conversation after Tom had sought comfort
from alcohol and drugs.  Sniffing, he rubbed at his eyes with his hands. 
“You’re wet, you should take a shower and warm up.”
Understanding that Booker needed time to pull himself together, Tom stood up
and gently stroked Dennis’ hair.  “I’ll be back soon okay?”
“Okay,” Booker muttered and he managed a half smile.  He waited until Tom had
gone into the bathroom before standing up and walking over to the window. 
Pulling back the curtain he stared out into the darkness and wondered if Tom
would ever be able to forgive him. 
                                      **
Lying naked under the covers, Booker felt his heart skip a beat as he watched
Tom emerge from the bathroom twenty minutes later, a towel wrapped tightly
around his narrow waist and his damp hair pushed back from his face.  He smiled
nervously, unsure how Tom would behave after their argument.  He sighed with
relief when his lover smiled back.  Holding out his hand, he beckoned Tom to
him.  He watched as Tom removed his towel and climbed in beside him before
murmuring, “Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?  I don’t have anything
to give you.”
Tom lay silent for a moment before gazing deep into Booker’s eyes.  “Yeah you
do,” he whispered as his trembling finger lightly played over Dennis’ lips.  “I
want you to make love to me.”
Dennis stared at his lover in wonder.  “Tommy,” he whispered, his voice
wavering slightly as tears glistened in his eyes.  “Oh Tommy!”
Tom smiled nervously at his lover’s reaction.  His heart hammered in his chest
but he knew he was ready.  “Tell me you love me,” he whispered against Booker’s
mouth.
“Oh God I love you,” Booker replied as he sucked at Tom’s full lower lip.  “I
love you so much it hurts.”
“Show me,” Tom murmured as he threw his head back so Booker could suck at his
throat.  “I wanna feel you inside me.”
Dennis moaned loudly at Tom’s words.  Rolling over, he yanked open his bedside
drawer and pulled out a box of condoms and a tube of lubrication.  His fingers
trembled so violently that he spilled the condoms out onto the bed.  Tom
laughed lightly as he watched Booker pick one up and swipe the rest impatiently
onto the floor.  Reaching down, Tom’s fingers stroked up and down Booker’s
cock, gently teasing him to full arousal.  Stilling Tom’s hand, Booker sat up
and ripped open the condom package.  Taking out the rubber, he carefully
unrolled it onto his erection.  Tom gazed with wide eyes and his breathing
became labored.  Moving down the bed, Booker knelt between Tom’s bent knees. 
Smiling down lovingly, he grabbed a pillow.  “Lift up,” he instructed as he
placed the cushion under Tom’s hips.  Picking up the lube, he opened the tube
and coated first his cock and then his index finger before smearing a blob onto
Tom’s hole.  Leaning forward, he kissed Tom tenderly.  “I’m gonna get you
ready, okay?”  Tom nodded and as he felt Booker’s finger intimately entering
into his tight hole, he sucked in his breath.  Booker paused as he stared down
at Tom with concern.  “Do you want me to stop?” he whispered. 
Tom shook his head.  “No, keep going.”
Booker gently pushed past the tight ring of muscle before slowly withdrawing
his finger.  He repeated the process several times, his eyes never leaving
Tom’s as they stared at each other intensely.  Removing his finger completely,
Booker’s breathing intensified at the sight of Tom lying with his legs spread
waiting for him to continue.  He closed his eyes briefly, as if imprinting the
vision deep into his memory before opening them again and gazing adoringly at
his lover.  “Are you ready?” he asked, his voice hitching slightly in his
throat.
“I’m ready,” Tom murmured as his chest rose and fell rapidly with his growing
arousal.
Booker guided the tip of his cock to Tom’s opening and slowly he pushed
inside.  Tom gasped when he felt Booker entering his body and callused hands
grasp his waist. 
Slowly, Dennis rocked his hips back and forth, as Tom’s legs wrapped tightly
around him and his fingernails bit deep into the flesh of his upper arms. 
“Tell me when you feel it,” Booker puffed as he gradually increased his pace.
“There!” Tom cried, as Booker’s cock hit his prostate.  “Oh fuck Dennis… oh
fuck!”
Determined not to rush his lovemaking, Booker gently lifted Tom’s hips so he
could maintain his angle.  Tom’s eyes stared back wildly as Booker pushed deep
into his body, every thrust causing Tom to cry out, “Aah… aah… aah… oh fuck… oh
fuck… oh fuck”
Looking down, Booker could see that Tom’s cock was weeping heavily with pre-
cum.  It excited him knowing that his cock thrusting in and out of Tom’s body
was the cause of his lover’s arousal.  “Do you want me to touch you baby?” he
panted, as he pushed his cock deep inside Tom.
“Yes… yes…yes…,” Tom pleaded, as his nails dug deep into the tender flesh of
Booker’s arms.
Placing his left hand on the mattress for support, Booker gently took Tom’s
throbbing cock into his right hand.  At the contact, Tom cried out and his hips
lifted off the pillow.  “Oh fuck!  Dennis… I can’t hold on… I’m gonna come… I’m
gonna come…”
As he tugged gently at Tom’s erection, Booker’s eyes blazed with desire as he
quickened his pace.  “Come for me baby,” he hissed through clenched teeth as he
trust deep into Tom’s tight hole.
“Dennis… Dennis… AAAH!” Tom finally screamed as his orgasm hit hard and he
ejaculated forcefully over his stomach and covered Booker’s fingers in his
sticky fluid.
“FUCK YEAH!” Booker yelled excitedly, as he began to pound forcefully into
Tom’s narrow body.  “Tommy… Tommy… TOMMEEE!”  He shuddered violently as he
reached his climax, his semen trapping inside the condom.  Exhausted, he
collapsed heavily onto his lover’s body, his breath catching in his throat. 
“Oh God,” he whispered in Tom’s ear.  “That was fucking amazing!”  When Tom did
not answer, Booker lifted his head and saw that tears were trickling down Tom’s
cheeks.  “Oh Tommy!” he murmured as he tenderly wiped his lover’s tears from
his eyes.  “Don’t cry.”
Tom’s voice faltered as a sob caught in his throat.  “I never… thought… it
could feel… so good,” he wept.  “I love you so much.”
Tears filled Booker’s eyes and carefully rolling onto the mattress, he pulled
Tom into his arms.  “I love you too baby,” he crooned as he held his lover
close.  “Now and forever remember?”
“Now and forever,” Tom repeated as his tears slowed and his eyes grew heavy. 
“Now… and… forever.”
“Happy sweet sixteen beautiful,” Booker whispered, as he tenderly kissed Tom’s
forehead. 
“Mmm,” Tom murmured as his eyes closed and he fell into a deep, contented
slumber.
 
***** Losing Control *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: Tom’s voice faltered as a sob caught in his throat.  “I
     never… thought… it could feel… so good,” he wept.  “I love you so
     much.”
     Tears filled Booker’s eyes and carefully rolling onto the mattress,
     he pulled Tom into his arms.  “I love you too baby,” he crooned as he
     held his lover close.  “Now and forever remember?”
     “Now and forever,” Tom repeated as his tears slowed and his eyes grew
     heavy.  “Now… and… forever.”
     “Happy sweet sixteen beautiful,” Booker whispered, as he tenderly
     kissed Tom’s forehead. 
     “Mmm,” Tom murmured as his eyes closed and he fell into a deep,
     contented slumber.
Losing_Control 
It took until the middle of April for the weather to show signs that it was now
spring.  The temperatures gradually became warmer and the long, cold winter
became a distant memory.  There was plenty of work for Booker on the farm and
he became adept at fixing fences and servicing farm equipment, all under the
watchful eye of the elderly but very active Henry Henderson.  He was happily
content with his life.  He enjoyed the outdoor existence of clean country air
after so many years living in a noisy, car-fumed city.  He took immense pride
in his work and he secretly enjoyed the praise he received from his elderly
mentor.
Unfortunately, Tom’s life had taken a turn for the worse.  Since his birthday,
he had faced some difficult times at school.  Becca had kept his secret to
herself for several weeks but had eventually revealed the truth about his
sexuality to her new boyfriend, Jarrod.  Although swearing him to secrecy, the
news soon spread like wildfire and Tom received the hurtful and homophobic
nickname of Take-it-up-the-ass Tommy.  Once the teasing started, Tom completely
withdrew from his peers and his schoolwork quickly began to suffer.  He again
found himself an outcast, the kid at school with whom no one could relate. 
Augustine Jones and Ernest Cowan did their best to shield him from the bullying
and although they consistently punished the perpetrators, Tom ultimately had to
fight his battles alone. 
Booker had noticed an immediate change in Tom’s demeanor.  His lover had become
reserved, moody, and less sexually available.   It had taken several weeks of
gentle coaxing before Tom had finally revealed to Dennis what was happening at
school.  Booker had wanted to confront the bullies, furious that his beloved
had become a target of homophobic abuse.  But Tom had remained resolute.  He
did not want Dennis intervening on his behalf for fear of being conceived as
weak and therefore, even more vulnerable and open to ridicule.  He had to deal
with the taunts in his own way, no matter how difficult it was.
Tom’s problems at school were not the only reason the teen felt so lost and
alone.  Doug’s release was imminent and Tom had no idea how to ask Booker to
give up his idyllic farm life and follow him back west so he could once again
be with his sibling.  He felt torn between the two men he loved most in the
world, his lover and his brother.  When he thought about coming face to face
with his father, the man who for four years, beat and raped him almost on a
daily basis, he felt sick to his stomach.  His world was once again crashing in
around him and he had no control over it.  He was terrified that Booker would
choose the Hendersons over him and he was not sure he could survive without his
lover by his side.
Several weeks after the abuse had begun, Tom sat cross-legged on the table
underneath his favorite pine tree, staring sullenly at groups of children
eating lunch together.  He wondered why his life always seemed to turn to
shit.  For a short period, his school life had been perfect.  Now, it was again
the isolating hellhole he had come to expect.  He knew he was failing most of
his classes but he could not find the energy or resolve to turn things around. 
Principal Cowan had scheduled a meeting with Henry and Louisa to discuss the
bullying and Tom’s subsequent declining grades.  It was Tom’s secret hope that
the Hendersons would think of him as a lost cause and allow him to leave
school.
So lost in his contemplations, Tom did not see Becca until she was standing in
front of him.  His frown turned into a scowl and swinging his legs around, he
jumped from the table and started to walk away.  Becca caught him by the
sleeve, her face etched with sadness.  “Tommy wait!”
Turning abruptly to confront his former friend, Tom balled his hands into
fists.  “Fuck OFF!” he yelled at her, his eyes blazing with fury.  “I never
want to speak to you again!”
“Tommy I’m sorry,” Becca sobbed as she clutched at his arm.  “I was so stupid. 
I thought I could trust Jarrod, I never thought he would tell everyone!”
Tom looked at her in disbelief as he fought to keep his angry tears at bay.  “I
thought you were my friend!” he shouted, “How could you do this to me?”
Their yelling caught the attention of other teenagers in the playground and
soon several students had formed a circle around Tom and Becca, all eager to
see what the commotion was about.
“Tommy please!” Becca pleaded, “I’m sorry, I’m sooo sorry!”
Tom pushed her away roughly.  “I don’t give a fuck that you’re sorry, you’ve
made my life hell you stupid little bitch!”
As he started to turn away, Tom found himself spun back around and a fist
slammed painfully into his jaw.  The force knocked him to the ground and he sat
gazing up at the angry face of Jarrod Harris, Becca’s boyfriend.  “No one calls
my girl a bitch, faggot,” Jarrod sneered, as his classmates cheered him on. 
“Now why don’t you go home and let your boyfriend fuck you up the ass.”
Confident that he had shown Tom who was the better man, Jarrod turned away and
clenching his fists, he raised his arms in a winner’s salute.  So caught up in
his own victory Jarrod did not see Tom clambering to his feet behind him.  By
the time someone yelled, “Look out!” Tom had already tackled him to the
ground.  Straddling his dazed victim, Tom repeatedly slammed his fists into
Jarrod’s surprised face.  Blood poured from the teenager’s nose and a large cut
opened up above his eye.  Tom was vaguely aware of screaming but he remained so
focused on smashing the face of his tormentor that he did not know where it was
coming from.  Suddenly, he found himself dragged violently backwards and two
strong arms wrapped around him and trapped his arms against his body, rendering
him defenseless.  He started to scream and curse, throwing his head backwards
in an effort to head butt the person holding him.  Dozens of pairs of wide,
frightened eyes watched on as Tom fought to get free, his voice becoming more
hysterical as each minute passed, “GET OFF ME YOU MOTHERFUCKER!  GET THE FUCK
OFF ME!”
Eventually Tom’s struggling ceased as exhaustion overwhelmed him.  As his rage
slowly diminished, he heard sirens in the distance.  In a daze, he looked
around and saw Jarrod lying bloodied on the ground with several teachers
leaning over him.  Many students were crying and others looked on in shock and
bewilderment.  The arms holding him remained firm and Tom had no choice but to
stand still with his head hanging forward.  Out of the corner of his eye, he
saw flashing lights as an ambulance and a police car drove into the school. 
Two paramedics quickly alighted and wheeled a stretcher over to Jarrod.  As the
police officers approached, Tom slowly realized that he was about to be
detained. 
“We’ll take it from here,” the larger of the two officers told Tom’s captor. 
Strong arms wrestled him to the ground and a knee in his back held him firm as
a large hand pushed his face down into the grass.  He cried out as the officer
wrenched his arms painfully behind his back and tightly handcuffed his wrists. 
Pulled unceremoniously to his feet, Tom grunted as both officers held him
firm.  “Are we going to have any trouble?” the smaller officer asked in a low
menacing voice.
Tom shook his head, too stunned to speak.  The officers led him past Jarrod,
who was lying on the stretcher with an IV in his arm.  It was then that he
found his voice, “Will he be okay?” he whispered, trying to seek out Becca in
the crowd of pale, shocked faces.
“You’d better hope so,” the officer replied in a flat voice.  “If not, you’re
going to be in a whole lot of trouble.”
                                      **
Sitting in a police cell with his head in his hands, Tom knew he had messed up
big time.  At best, he might get off with community service, at worst, a judge
might decide he needed a more severe punishment, which would likely mean
juvenile detention; the irony of which was not lost on Tom.  His brother was
due for release within weeks and now there was a very good chance that he would
take Doug’s place within the system.  Tom’s other fear was that the police
would realize he was a runaway.  The thought of the authorities returning him
to his father was almost too much to bear.  He doubted the Hendersons would
want him back, not now that he had shown them what a screw up he really was. 
Not only had he messed up his own chances of a new life, he had also taken that
opportunity away from Booker. 
The sound of hurried footsteps echoed along the corridor and Tom lifted his
head to see Booker running towards his cell. Rushing to the bars, he held out
his arms and Dennis grabbed him through the narrow railings, pulling him
against the cold, hard barrier. “Oh God Tommy!” Booker cried, “What the hell
happened?”
At the anguish in his lover’s voice, Tom burst into tears. Booker tried his
best to comfort him through the steel bars but he could only make minimal
contact. Eventually, he pulled away and spoke to the police officer who was
standing several feet away, observing the reunion in silence. “Can you let me
in so I can talk to him?” Dennis pleaded. “He’s only sixteen. Please, I need to
be with him.”
The officer hesitated for a moment before nodding.  Moving forward, he unlocked
the cell and held open the door.  Booker rushed through and pulled Tom into his
arms.  “Shh, baby,” he whispered, desperately trying to calm Tom’s hysterics. 
“It’s okay, I’m here now.”
Tom jerked away and started pacing frantically around the tiny cell, tearing at
his hair.  “It’s not okay!  I lost it Booker, I could have fucking killed him! 
Is he all right?  No-one will tell me if he’s all right!”
“He’s okay,” Dennis answered quietly, aware that the officer outside was
listening.  “You broke his nose and fractured his cheekbone.  Just don’t say
anything more okay?”
“Why the hell not?” Tom snapped angrily, “They’re gonna find out everything
anyway!  It’s over.  I fucked everything up and now it’s over!”
Dennis tried to allay Tom’s fears.  “It’s not over.  We can work it out Tommy,
I promise.”
Tom stopped pacing and lifted a tear stained face to stare at his lover. 
“How?” he whispered.
Booker did not have an answer but he did not let Tom know that.  “We’ll find a
way baby,” he murmured softly, “Just let me do the worrying okay?”
Tom wanted to believe Dennis but deep in his heart he knew this time, his lover
would not be able to make everything right.
***** For the Love of Tom *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: The sound of hurried footsteps echoed along the corridor
     and Tom lifted head to see Booker running towards his cell.  Rushing
     to the bars, Tom held out his arms and Dennis grabbed him through the
     narrow railings, pulling him against the cold, hard barrier.   “Oh
     God Tommy!” Booker cried, “What the hell happened?”
     At the anguish in his lover’s voice, Tom burst into tears.  Booker
     tried his best to comfort Tom through the steel bars but he could
     only make minimal contact.  Eventually, he pulled away and spoke to
     the police officer who was standing several feet away, observing the
     reunion in silence.  “Can you let me in so I can talk to him?” Dennis
     pleaded.  “He’s only sixteen.  Please, I need to be with him.”
     The officer hesitated for a moment before nodding.  Moving forward,
     he unlocked the cell and held open the door.  Booker rushed through
     and pulled Tom into his arms.  “Ssh, baby,” he whispered, desperately
     trying to calm Tom’s hysterics.  “It’s okay, I’m here now.”
     Tom jerked away and started pacing frantically around the tiny cell,
     tearing at his hair.  “It’s not okay!  I lost it Booker, I could have
     fucking killed him!  Is he all right?  No-one will tell me if he’s
     all right!”
     “He’s okay,” Dennis answered quietly, aware that the officer outside
     was listening.  “You broke his nose and fractured his cheekbone. 
     Just don’t say anything more okay?”
     “Why the hell not?” Tom snapped angrily, “They’re gonna find out
     everything anyway!  It’s over.  I fucked everything up and now it’s
     over!”
     Dennis tried to allay Tom’s fears.  “It’s not over.  We can work it
     out Tommy, I promise.”
     Tom stopped pacing and lifted a tear stained face to stare at his
     lover.  “How?” he whispered.
     Booker did not have an answer but he did not let Tom know that. 
     “We’ll find a way baby,” he murmured softly, “Just let me do the
     worrying okay?”
     Tom wanted to believe Dennis but deep in his heart he knew this time,
     his lover would not be able to make everything right.
For_the_Love_of_Tom 
Several hours after Booker had left the police station, Tom lay on the hard
wooden bench in his cell with his arm thrown over his face.  He had fallen into
a deep, mind numbing depression and he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep
and never wake up.  As he lay wondering what his fate would be, he once again
heard footsteps reverberating down the narrow corridor, but this time the gait
was slow and purposeful.  Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and waited.  He let
out a soft cry of surprise when Henry Henderson appeared and stood in front of
his cell.  The old man’s appearance took him completely by surprise and he sat
staring at his guardian, unable to speak.
Reaching an arm through the bars, Henry instructed gently, “Come here boy.”
Tom rose to his feet and walked slowly over to the front of his cell.  When he
was close enough, Henry placed the palm of his callused hand on Tom’s smooth
cheek.  “Got yourself in a bit of trouble hey lad,” he murmured quietly, “But
don’t worry, Mother an’ me will sort it out.”
Tom stared at Henry in disbelief.  “Why?” he asked softly, “All I’ve done is
cause you trouble.  You and Aunty Lou would be better off without me.”
Henry smiled in his slow, pleasant way.  “Caused a bit of trouble meself, back
in the day,” he muttered, “Took meeting a good woman ‘fore I straightened out. 
You’ve got yourself a goodun in that Dennis.  Maybe you should go to him with
your troubles ‘stead of using your fists to fix your problems.”
Tom lowered his gaze and mumbled, “He called me a faggot.  I hate that word.”
Henry’s watery eyes softened.  “It’s a vile word for sure, but that ain’t no
reason to beat someone to a pulp now is it lad.  I’m guessing there’s a lot
more going on in that head of yours than just some name callin’.  Am I right?”
Tom’s lower lip began to tremble as he fought back tears.  “My brother Doug, I
have to go back and find him but how do I ask Dennis to come with me, he loves
it here.”
“Silly boy,” Henry murmured quietly, “Course young Denny will go with you.  An’
when you find that brother of yours, you bring him back here an’ life goes on. 
Only difference will be one more for dinner.”
Staring back at Henry with wide eyes, Tom felt overwhelmed with love for the
old man.  “You want me back?  Me and Doug?” he asked disbelievingly.  “Uncle
Henry, I don’t know what to say, what you’ve done for me and Dennis it’s—”
“Hush boy, I don’t take too well to praise an’ anyway, I’m pretty sure Mother
would have my hide if I gave up on you,” Henry laughed.  “But first things
first.  We need to fix this mess with the Harris boy.  Let me speak to Harris
senior, see what I can do.  Meantime, you sit tight an’ don’t worry.”
“What about school?” Tom mumbled, certain that he had been expelled.
Scratching his head, Henry replied, “Mother an’ I have a meeting with Principal
Cowan in the morning.  Figure between the two of us we can assure him you won’t
cause no more trouble.”
“Oh,” Tom replied quietly, “So I have to go back?”
“That’s the rules lad, you know it an’ I know it,” Henry answered in a soft
voice.
Tom nodded.  “When can I go home?  I want to be with Dennis.”
“Soon lad, very soon,” Henry reassured him.  He gently ruffled Tom’s hair
before turning and walking slowly away.
                                      **
Two hours later and Tom was able to leave the police station.  Henry had spoken
to Dan Harris, Jarrod’s father and after gaining testimony from Becca Ellis
that Jarrod had thrown the first punch and had taunted Tom about his sexuality,
Mr. Harris agreed not to press charges.  Booker and Tom sat silently as Henry
drove them home in his old dodge truck.  When they arrived at the barn, they
found that Louisa had left plates of chicken and vegetables warming in their
oven.  Neither boy was hungry but they sat at the table, silently picking at
their food.  With a loud sigh, Tom pushed his plate away and addressed Booker
quietly, “We need to talk.”
Nodding, Booker stood up and taking Tom by the hand, he led him over to the
couch.  Stretching out, he pulled Tom down next to him so that he could cradle
his lover in his arms.  “What’s up?” he asked quietly, gently stroking Tom’s
head which lay on his chest.  “Henry’s fixed everything, you don’t have to
worry anymore.  And I’m sure the school won’t expel you, not after all the
abuse you’ve had to put up with.”
Tom’s index finger traced a circle around Dennis’ taut stomach.  Even though
Henry had assured him that Booker would stand by his side, he was still
nervous.  He shifted his head so he could gaze into Booker’s dark eyes.  “You
love me right?” he murmured as his hand slipped under Dennis’ shirt so he could
feel the muscled body beneath his fingertips.
Kissing Tom on the forehead, Booker smiled.  “You know I do, so how ‘bout you
tell me what’s wrong.”
“It’s about Doug,” Tom whispered as he moved his hand down and slipped it
inside the waistband of Dennis’ jeans.
“Whoa,” Booker said, pulling Tom’s hand out.  “If you’ve got something to say
Tommy, just say it.  Don’t use sex to try and get me on your good side.”
“Wasn’t,” Tom pouted, lowering his gaze, “I just wanna touch you.  We haven’t
done much of that lately.”
Dennis was about to say that it was Tom who had withheld sex not him but he
caught himself just in time.  He understood the difficulties Tom had been
through concerning his sexuality and the teasing at school and therefore he had
remained patient and calm when Tom had withdrawn from his advances.  Now he was
worried that Tom had reverted to his old ways of trying to manipulate him using
sex.  Sighing, he tilted Tom’s chin upwards so he could study his face.  “No we
haven’t but it can wait.  Let’s talk about Doug okay?”
Tom nodded.  He laid his palm down flat on Booker’s stomach so he could feel
the steady rise and fall of his abdomen as he breathed.  He found the movement
comforting and taking in a deep breath, he voiced his plan, “You probably
didn’t realize but Doug’s due to be released.  I want to go home and find him
and I want you to come with me.”
A huge grin split Booker’s face.  “Jesus Tommy, is that all?  Of course I’ll go
with you, what made you think that I wouldn’t”
“I dunno,” Tom mumbled, feeling a little stupid for not trusting that Booker
would do anything for him.  “I just know how much you like it here and—”
“But we’re coming back,” Dennis interrupted quickly.  “I mean, we find Doug and
we come back, that’s the plan, right?”
Smiling, Tom nuzzled into Booker’s neck.  “That’s the plan.  I spoke to Henry
and he and Louisa are happy for Doug to come and live here.  They can’t afford
to employ him but they’re certain someone in the area will.  Jesus Dennis, this
is gonna be so good.  We’ll be like a real family.”
“We’re already a real family Tommy,” Booker murmured as he kissed the top of
Tom’s head.  “You and me, remember?”
“Sooo,” Tom whispered playfully, his fingers finding their way back down to
Booker’s groin, “Can we have sex now or do you wanna keep talking?”
“Sex,” Booker grinned as he pressed his lips against Tom’s. 
Tom raised his eyebrow and gave Dennis a cheeky look.  “Is that right?” he
asked, squeezing Dennis’ crotch lightly as he seductively sucked on Booker’s
lower lip.  “ What have you got in mind?” 
Parting his lips, Dennis, allowed Tom access.  Their tongues intertwined and
Dennis moaned deep into his lover’s mouth as his erection grew under the touch
of Tom’s skillful fingers.  Breaking their kiss, his mouth found Tom’s earlobe
and as he nipped and sucked, he whispered hoarsely, “I want you to ride me.”
Tom’s hand immediately stilled and he propped himself up on one arm so he could
look down on his lover.  “Dennis I…” His voice trailed off, unable to tell his
boyfriend that he still felt uncomfortable adopting what he conceived to be a
traditional female position. 
Although disappointed, Booker immediately reassured Tom.  “It’s okay baby,
maybe another time.  We’ll do whatever you want.”
Looking down into Dennis’ handsome, caring face, Tom felt incredible selfish. 
Booker gave him so much and in return, he gave so little.  Back when he had
poured his heart out about how Robbie Werner had made him get on top, Booker
had assured him that it was something that guys did sometimes and it did not
mean that being on top made you more feminine.  He loved Dennis with all his
heart and he wanted to prove it.  Swallowing deeply, he gave Booker a cheeky
grin.  “I dunno, I guess it kinda sounds like fun.”
Booker’s eyes searched Tom’s face, trying to read his mood.  “Are you sure,
‘cause we don’t—”
“I said yes Dennis,” Tom whispered as he leaned forward and kissed his lover. 
“I love you and I want to do this for you.”
Booker’s dark eyes flashed with desire.  “This is gonna be so good,” he
murmured, his hands playing lightly over Tom’s body, “I’m gonna make you
scream.”
“Yeah?” Tom murmured back, his cock beginning to twitch.  “Show me.”
Sitting up, Booker took Tom’s hand and together they walked into the bedroom. 
They undressed each other slowly, taking time to kiss and fondle each other. 
Dennis studied Tom’s bruised and bloodied knuckles.  “Do they hurt?” he asked
as he pressed his lips gently against the damaged flesh.  Tom shook his head;
until Dennis had mentioned it, he had been completely unaware of any pain. 
“C’mon,” Booker murmured excitedly, his cock already aching with arousal.  “I
wanna feel you on top of me.”
Tom lay on the bed and bent up his knees, opening his legs wide.  He moaned
loudly as Booker covered a finger in lube and slowly entered his body,
preparing him for what was to come.  Dennis took his time, opening Tom up,
enjoying the sight of Tom’s cock growing from the stimulation.  When he felt
Tom was ready, he lay on his back.  “Get me hard,” he instructed in a low
voice.
Tom sat up and straddled Booker’s legs.  He gently tugged and stroked at
Dennis’ erection.  Once fully erect, he expertly rolled a black condom onto
Booker’s cock and smeared it with lubrication.  Gazing down at his lover, Tom
smiled nervously.  Booker’s eyes softened when he saw Tom’s expression.  “Have
you changed your mind baby?” he asked, “It’s okay if you have.”
Smiling, Tom shook his head.  “I was just thinking how gorgeous you are,” he
murmured, “And how much I love you.”
Booker’s dark eyes shimmered with tears.  “I love you to baby.  Let me show you
how much.”  He laid his hands on either side of Tom’s waist and gently coaxed
him so he was kneeling over him.  “Scoot forward,” he instructed, guiding Tom
until he was kneeling above his throbbing erection.  “Ready?” he asked softly,
his breathing rapidly increasing at the anticipation of his cock entering Tom’s
body.
Wide eyed, Tom nodded.  Booker held on to the base of his cock and gently
guided Tom’s body down until he could feel the tip of his erection against
Tom’s hole.  “Push down slowly,” he panted, his eyes glinting with desire.  He
moaned loudly as his cock pushed past the tight ring of muscle and into Tom’s
hot body.  He used his hands to lift and lower Tom slowly, groaning each time
his cock impaled deep inside his lover.  Tom leaned forward slightly and placed
his hands on Booker’s smooth chest, using his legs to raise his body up and
down, desperate for Dennis’ cock to find his spot.  Shifting his position
slightly, his eyes flew open as a jolt of pleasure shot through his body. 
“There!” he cried as he began to move his body faster. 
Dennis grinned wildly as Tom slammed his body down onto his cock.  “That’s my
baby,” he gasped as his fingers found Tom’s weeping cock.  “Scream for me.”
Tom panted heavily as his body rode up and down on top of Booker.  “So good…
fuck… so good… make me come… oh Dennis… oh fuck… I’m gonna… oh fuck… please… I
WANNA… I’M COMING… OH FUCK… OH FUUUCK… FUUUCK!”
Warm semen covered Booker’s hand as Tom released his orgasm.  Booker’s dark
eyes flashed bright as he once again put both hands on Tom’s hips and slammed
him up and down on his cock.  It only took a few seconds before he shouted out
Tom’s name as he too climaxed.  He gripped Tom’s hips as he shuddered deep
inside his lover’s body.  When he was finally spent, he gently lifted Tom off
his softening erection and pulled him down on top of him so he could kiss him
lovingly.  “Okay baby?” he murmured against Tom’s mouth.
“Hell yeah,” Tom replied with a laugh as he rolled off Booker and lay on his
back, panting heavily.  “That was fucking amazing.”
Pulling off his condom, Booker threw it on the floor before rolling over and
snuggling up to his lover.  “Told you so,” he teased before turning serious. 
“So tomorrow we start planning, okay?  We’re gonna go and find your brother.”
“Okay,” Tom replied sleepily.  “I love you Dennis.”
“I love you too Tommy,” Booker replied and pulling his lover close, he pushed
away the worrying thoughts about returning to Tom’s hometown and finally facing
his abusive father.
***** Facing the Past *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: Warm semen covered Booker’s hand as Tom released his
     orgasm.  Booker’s dark eyes flashed bright as he once again put both
     hands on Tom’s hips and slammed him up and down on his cock.  It only
     took a few seconds before he shouted out Tom’s name as he too
     climaxed.  He gripped Tom’s hips as he shuddered deep inside his
     lover’s body.  When he was finally spent, he gently lifted Tom off
     his softening erection and pulled him down on top of him so he could
     kiss him lovingly.  “Okay baby?” he murmured against Tom’s mouth.
     “Hell yeah,” Tom replied with a laugh as he rolled off Booker and lay
     on his back, panting heavily.  “That was fucking amazing.”
     Pulling off his condom, Booker threw it on the floor before rolling
     over and snuggling up to his lover.  “Told you so,” he teased before
     turning serious.  “So tomorrow we start planning, okay?  We’re gonna
     go and find your brother.”
     “Okay,” Tom replied sleepily.  “I love you Dennis.”
     “I love you too Tommy,” Booker replied and pulling his lover close,
     he pushed away the worrying thoughts about returning to Tom’s
     hometown and finally facing his abusive father.
Facing_the_Past 
Returning to school had not turned into the nightmare Tom had convinced himself
it would be.  Principal Cowan had agreed to let Tom return on a six-month
probationary agreement on the proviso that he maintained a 2.5 GPA and stayed
out of trouble.  Surprisingly, Tom found that many of the students welcomed him
back without ever alluding to his sexual orientation or the fact that he had
beaten Jarrod Harris to a bloody pulp.  Having broken up with Jarrod, Becca had
once again begged Tom’s forgiveness and they slowly started to repair their
damaged relationship by hanging out together with her friends.  Tom refused her
offer to tutor him, still not completely comfortable with spending time alone
with her.  Jarrod had returned to school several weeks later and had publicly
apologized to Tom for his homophobic remarks.  Tom was somewhat surprised but
he later heard through the school grape vine that it was a condition of
Jarrod’s re-admittance back to Lillydale High.  Not long after Tom’s return,
the school began to implement a tough, zero tolerance anti bullying policy, all
of which made Tom somewhat of a  hero in the eyes of those who had endured
years of teasing just because their peers labeled them as different.
The downside to his return was that Tom started to struggle with his
schoolwork, mostly due to sleepless nights and an inner turmoil at the prospect
of facing his father.  But he remained doggedly determined, spending night
after night at the kitchen table, pouring over his books.  He told Booker that
he owed it to the Hendersons to do his best as they had refused to give up on
him and he did not want to let them down again.  Henry and Louisa had discussed
with Ernest Cowan Tom’s desire to find his brother and the Principal agreed to
give Tom special leave so he could return west and reconnect with his sibling. 
As the time drew nearer for his and Booker’s journey, Tom found himself
becoming nervous and agitated.  To find Doug he needed to contact Aaron and the
thought made him physically sick.  Memories of his rapes came flooding back and
he frequently suffered horrendous nightmares.  Many nights he woke screaming,
his body drenched in sweat as he fought off an imaginary attacker.  Booker had
wanted to confide in Henry and Louisa in the hope of getting Tom some
psychological help but his young lover refused, too ashamed to admit that he
was once again unable to cope.  Dennis did his best to comfort Tom but he felt
ill equipped to deal with the level of emotional scarring Tom suffered from. 
All he could do was hold his lover in his arms night after night and reassure
him that he would never let Aaron hurt him again.
A month after his arrest, Tom stood on the platform of the train station,
nervously chewing at his fingernails.  Booker stood a few feet away, chatting
to Henry and Louisa.  The elderly couple had insisted on driving the boys so
they could see them safely on the train.  Glancing over at Tom, Booker could
see the dark smudges under his lover’s eyes, a sign that he had not been
sleeping well.  It broke his heart to see his beloved Tom in such a distressed
state and he hoped that the meeting with Tom’s father would not prove too much
for his boyfriend to cope with.  Dennis’ greatest fear was that Tom’s fragile
emotional state would crack under the stress.  It was a bittersweet situation,
Tom and Doug would be together again but the only way it would happen was for
Tom to face up to Aaron.
As the train pulled into the station, Tom’s eyes darted over to where Booker
was standing.  He had already said his goodbyes to Henry and Louisa, knowing
that he would be unable to contain his emotions and not wanting to make a
public spectacle of himself.  He watched as the elderly couple gave Booker a
hug and he managed to raise his hand in a quick wave before quickly turning
away and stepping onto the train.  He felt an arm around his waist and turning,
he saw Dennis give him a reassuring smile.  “Okay baby?” Booker asked softly.
Tom nodded, not trusting himself to speak without crying.  They walked down the
corridor in search of their sleeper.  They would spend two nights on the train
and Booker had suggested that it would be in their best interest to have a bed
to sleep in rather than try to sleep in a seat.  He was concerned about Tom’s
nightmares and wanted privacy so he could console his lover if necessary.
Opening the door, they maneuvered themselves into the tiny space.  The room
consisted of two beds, one above the other, a toilet, sink and shower.  The
lower berth converted into a couch and there was room underneath to store their
two bags.  Booker tossed his holdall onto the upper bunk before taking Tom’s
bag from him and placing it on the lower berth.  He waited for Tom to speak but
his lover stood mutely, staring into space with a dazed look on his face. 
Booker placed his arms around Tom and pulled him into a gentle hug.  It took
several moments before Tom wrapped his arms around Dennis and rested his head
against his chest.  Neither boy spoke for several minutes until Booker pulled
away just enough so he could tilt up Tom’s chin.  He brushed aside Tom’s long
bangs so he could gaze into his dark brown eyes.  “You know I won’t let him
hurt you, right?” he murmured as he stroked Tom’s face.  “We find Doug and we
leave, end of story.”
Managing a weak smile, Tom nodded.  “Okay,” he muttered as he picked up his bag
and threw it onto the floor before lying down on the lower bunk and turning to
face the wall.
With a sigh, Booker pushed both bags under the bed and climbed onto the top
berth.  He heard the drone of the train’s engines starting up and he looked at
his watch.  It was only six-thirty in the evening but it appeared that Tom had
settled down for the night.  Clambering back down, Dennis opened his bag and
pulled out his book before again settling himself on the top bunk.  As the
train slowly began to move, he hung his head over the edge of the bed and
peered down at Tom.  There was no movement from the lower bed so he lay back
down and lost himself in his novel.
                                      **
Booker jerked awake, the sound of Tom’s screaming ringing in his ears. 
Disorientated, he fell from the top bunk onto the floor, the impact knocking
the air from his lungs.  Groaning, he stood up and rubbed at his elbow as he
limped over to Tom, who was thrashing wildly in his sleep, screaming “NO! NO!
NO! NO! NOOO!”  Knowing better than to touch Tom and risk being mistaken as his
attacker, Dennis sat on the bed and spoke Tom’s name repeatedly, telling him
that it was okay and that he needed to wake up. 
When Tom’s tortured eyes finally opened, Booker lay down and pulled his sobbing
lover into his arms. “Shh Tommy, it’s okay, I’m here,” he murmured as he held
Tom’s trembling body.  It took nearly twenty minutes before Tom finally calmed
down enough for Dennis to speak to him again.  “Are you all right?  Do you need
anything?” he asked as he gently pushed Tom’s sweaty hair away from his face.
“Stay with me,” Tom whispered, “I don’t want to be alone.”
“Of course baby, whatever you need,” Booker replied before pressing his lips
gently against Tom’s full pout.  Tom responded immediately by opening his
mouth, wanting Dennis to give him more.  Booker kissed him slowly and tenderly
as his fingers toyed with Tom’s hair.
“Make me forget,” Tom moaned into his lover’s mouth, pushing Dennis’ hand
downwards.
“Tell me what you want,” Booker whispered huskily, desperate to help Tom stop
thinking about what lay ahead.
“Play with me,” groaned Tom quietly, “Make me come.”
Shifting his position slightly, Booker unbuttoned Tom’s jeans and carefully
pulled down the zipper before reaching inside his boxers and releasing Tom’s
cock.  As he caressed and tugged at Tom’s growing erection, he whispered in his
lover’s ear, “Do you like that baby?”
“Yesss,” Tom hissed, as hips jerked upwards, “Harder.”
“Like this?” Booker murmured as his hand moved faster.
“Oh God!” Tom uttered, his pupils dilating with arousal.  “Oh fuck!”
Dennis nibbled on Tom’s earlobe as he muttered, “Are you gonna come for me
beautiful?”
“Oh Dennis I’m close!’ Tom panted as his hips continued to thrust into the
air.  “Oh please Dennis, harder!”
Smiling, Booker worked his fist over Tom’s erection.  A minute later, Tom
screamed as he shot his orgasm over Dennis’ fingers.  Slowing his pace, Booker
gently fondled Tom’s cock until it had softened.  He stared lovingly down at
Tom’s misty eyes and tenderly kissed his forehead.  “Feeling better?”
Tom nodded, his expression now relaxed.  “Stay?” he murmured, wanting to feel
the reassurance of Booker’s body next to him.
“Always,” Dennis replied with a smile.  “Now close your eyes and try to sleep,
okay?”
Laying his head on Booker’s chest, Tom closed his tired eyes as the train
steadily took him closer to the nightmare he would eventually have to face.
***** Reunion *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: He stared lovingly down at Tom’s misty eyes and tenderly
     kissed his forehead.  “Feeling better?”
     Tom nodded, his expression now relaxed.  “Stay?” he murmured, wanting
     to feel the reassurance of Booker’s body next to him.
     “Always,” Dennis replied with a smile.  “Now close your eyes and try
     to sleep, okay?”
     Laying his head on Booker’s chest, Tom closed his tired eyes as the
     train steadily took him closer to the nightmare he would eventually
     have to face.
Reunion 
After forty-one hours of travel, the train pulled into its final destination. 
It was eleven-thirty in the morning and the sun was shining brightly.  Tom
stared out of the train’s dirty window as Booker busied himself behind him,
packing up their belongings.  They still had an hour’s bus ride to endure
before they arrived at the town Tom used to call home. 
Feeling a light hand on his shoulder, Tom turned to face Booker.  “Ready?”
Dennis asked, keeping his voice neutral so Tom would not detect the nerves that
he too felt, now that they were almost at the end of their journey.
“I guess,” Tom muttered, bending down to pick up his bag.  He started to head
for the door before stopping.  “It’s gonna be okay isn’t it?  I mean, we go to
the house, get Doug and leave.  He won’t be able to stop us right?”
On the long train journey, Booker had given their situation a lot of thought. 
It had finally occurred to him that they did not know for sure that Doug’s
sentence was over.  The six-month period was up but if Doug had misbehaved
during his incarceration, a judge could order extra time in detention.  Dennis
had not wanted to worry Tom during the long, arduous train ride, but now that
they were virtually on Aaron McQuaid’s doorstep, he felt Tom needed to be
prepared.
“Sit down for a minute,” Booker instructed, keeping his voice light.
“Why?” Tom asked suspiciously as his eyes narrowed slightly.  “What’s wrong?”
Booker rubbed a hand over his tired eyes.  “I don’t want you to get upset okay,
just listen to what I have to say.”
Tom took a seat and stared up at Dennis who remained standing.  “You’re
starting to freak me out,” he laughed nervously.  “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“It may be nothing,” Booker started, hoping to reassure Tom with his tone. 
“It’s just, we don’t know for certain that Doug’s been released yet.  So I was
thinking, is there anyone you trust that we could talk to, you know, to find
out if they’ve heard anything.”
Tom felt as though a knife had stabbed him in the heart.  He could not believe
how stupid and naïve they had been.  They had traveled across the country
without bothering to verify that Doug had indeed, been released.  He did not
even know for sure that his father still lived in the same house.  Given
Aaron’s tendency to spend the rent money on alcohol, there was a high
probability that the property owner had kicked him out long ago.
Tom’s eyes filled with tears.  “Oh God,” he whispered, “I might never find
Doug.”
Kneeling down in front of Tom, Booker took hold of his hands.  “No baby, that’s
not what I’m saying.  The authorities will know where he is.  I just think it
would be better if we knew for sure that Doug was living with your Dad.  No
point in going there otherwise, huh?”
It took several minutes for Tom to digest Dennis’ words.  It was true, there
was no need for him to go and see his Dad if Doug was not even living there. 
He closed his eyes and thought hard about whom they could contact about his
brother’s whereabouts.  Slowly, a long forgotten name entered his mind.  “There
was this teacher, Mr. Fuller.  If he’s still at the school I know I could trust
him to help us out.”
Booker visibly relaxed.  “There you go, problem solved,” he smiled.  “C’mon,
let’s get out and stretch our legs before we have to sit on a bus for an hour.”
Checking the tiny room one last time to make sure they had left nothing behind,
the boys exited the train.
                                      **
As their bus neared the McQuaids’ old neighborhood, Tom stared silently out of
the window as the knot in his stomach tightened.  He felt physically ill and
hoped that he would be able to keep down the sandwich he had eaten.  When they
drove past the park where Tom had spent the night in the enclosed play tower,
he felt tears prick at his eyes.  He felt so sad for that scared, lonely boy. 
But so much had changed since that fateful night.  He had Booker and the
Hendersons in his life now and in a few short hours, he would hopefully also
have Doug. 
Their bus began to slow down as it approached Tom’s old school.  Clenching his
fists, Tom attempted to calm his jangling nerves.  “This is it,” he muttered to
Dennis.
Grabbing their bags, the boys exited the bus and stood on the pavement, staring
at the large, gray building.  Booker glanced at his watch and saw that it was
past lunchtime and classes would have resumed.  “What do you wanna do?” he
asked.  “We’ve a few hours to kill before school gets out.”
Now that he was standing in the place where his old life had ended, Tom felt an
unexpected surge of strength course through his body and his fears quickly
evaporated.  His father had no hold over him, not now that he had people in his
life who loved and cared about him.  He knew that Henry and Louisa would fight
in court if they had to, to keep him with them.  There was nothing left to be
afraid of and Aaron McQuaid was nothing to him anymore.  He considered his
father as dead as his dear mother was, buried deep underground, never to be in
his life again.  A slow smile spread across his face and he turned to face his
lover.  “We’re gonna go get Doug,” he replied, “And if he isn’t with my Dad, we
won’t leave until he tells us where he is.”
Booker’s chest swelled with love and pride for his beautiful Tommy.  Stepping
forward, he cupped Tom’s face in his hands and pressed his lips against his
lover’s.  “I’m so proud of you baby,” he murmured softly.
A pink flush warmed Tom’s cheeks.  “I couldn’t do any of his without you by my
side.  We’re a team, remember?”
Booker laughed.  “Yeah we are.  C’mon, let’s go find your brother.”
                                      **
Standing at the bottom of the driveway, Tom stared at the rundown two-storey
house that had been his home for less than two weeks.  From the ages of nine to
fifteen, he had lived in twelve different houses and none of them had ever felt
like home.  In contrast, he and Booker had only lived at the Henderson’s farm
for three months and for Tom, it had felt like home from the first week they
had arrived.  Henry and Louisa had treated him as one of their own from the
moment he set foot over their threshold.  They had shown him love and support
along with gentle discipline to help keep him on the right path.  Aaron had
contributed nothing to Tom’s welfare and upbringing except to instill fear and
emotional scarring that would last a lifetime.  For a moment Tom wondered how
his life would be if he had not made the decision to run away six months ago. 
A cold shiver ran down his spine and he pushed the thought aside.  It did not
matter anymore, he was finally free of the abuse and that was all he cared
about.
His nervousness had returned but he felt no fear.  Turning to Booker, who had
been silently watching him, he gave a wry smile.  “C’mon, let’s get this over
with so we can go home.”
Together they walked up the driveway.  Standing at the front door, Tom
nervously wiped his palms on his jeans and rang the doorbell.  Beethoven’s 9th
chimed loudly, the choice of chimes seemingly inappropriate given the horrors
that had occurred behind the thick, damp walls.  Clenching and unclenching his
fists, Tom could hear footsteps inside and an unidentified voice yelled out,
“Hang on, I’m coming.”
The battered wooden door flew open and Doug stared out through the rusty screen
door.  “If you’re selling anything we’re not… Oh my God… Tommy!”
The door flew back on its hinges and Doug grabbed Tom in a bear-like hug,
squeezing him hard.  “I can’t believe it!  I thought I’d never see you again! 
Oh my God Tom, you’re home!”
Struggling for breath, Tom motioned for Doug to let him go.  With a lopsided
smile, Doug obliged and stepping back, he looked Tom up and down.  “Jeez Tommy,
where the hell have you been?  We’ve been worried sick about you, not knowing
if you were dead or alive.”
Tom’s expression hardened.  “We’ve been worried sick?  You can’t mean that Dad
gave a rat’s ass about where I’ve been except that he had no-one to molest
whilst I was gone.”
Doug’s face paled.  “Tommy it’s not like that now, he’s changed.  He’s been
freaking out.  Honest, he’s been so worried about you and—”
“DON’T LIE TO ME!” Tom yelled.  “The last thing he did to me before I left was
RAPE ME!  How can you defend him when you hate him as much as I do?”
Nervously looking over Tom’s shoulder to see if any neighbors were listening to
their argument, Doug’s eyes met Dennis’ and he stared at him as his eyes
narrowed, “Who the hell are you?”
Before Dennis could reply, Tom answered, “His name’s Dennis and he’s… he’s my
boyfriend.”
Doug stared back open mouthed.  His eyes traveled from Tom to Dennis and back
again.  “He’s your what?”
“Boyfriend,” Tom replied assertively.  “I met him on the streets and we’ve been
together ever since.”
Running his fingers through his hair, Doug struggled to think of something to
say.  He had dreamed of the day when his little brother would return home but
so far, none of it was going the way he had imagined.  Realizing that Tom was
waiting for him to say something, he gave a half smile.  “Well that’s great
Tommy, um, maybe you and your… um, Dennis should come inside so we can talk.”
“Is he in there?” Tom asked, peering into the darkened house. 
Shaking his head, Doug stood aside so the two younger boys could enter.  Déjà
vu hit Tom like a freight train and he shivered violently.  He reached back and
found Booker’s hand and he relaxed slightly when his lover gave his fingers a
reassuring squeeze.  They followed Doug into the dimly lit living room and sat
down on the couch, their fingers firmly entwined.  Doug stared at them, his
expression somewhat disturbed.  Tom sighed heavily.  This was not turning into
the reunion he had hoped for.  “Does this bother you?” he asked bluntly, as he
lifted up his and Booker’s hand.
“No Tommy,” Doug replied hurriedly, “It’s just… were you gay before you left?”
Tom became impatient.  “For fuck’s sake Doug, I don’t want to talk about this
now, I want to talk about us!  I’ve come back because I want you to come and
live with me and Dennis.  We’ve got a great life now living with this elderly
couple on a farm and they—”
The sound of the front door slamming stopped Tom mid sentence and fear filled
his eyes.  He turned towards the doorway, his expression full of horror as
Aaron McQuaid walked into the room.
 
***** Choices *****
Chapter Notes
     Previously: “Is he in there?” Tom asked, peering into the darkened
     house. 
     Shaking his head, Doug stood aside so the two younger boys could
     enter.  Déjà vu hit Tom like a freight train and he shivered
     violently.  He reached back and found Booker’s hand and he relaxed
     slightly when his lover gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze.  They
     followed Doug into the dimly lit living room and sat down on the
     couch, their fingers firmly entwined.  Doug stared at them, his
     expression somewhat disturbed.  Tom sighed heavily.  This was not
     turning into the reunion he had hoped for.  “Does this bother you?”
     he asked bluntly, as he lifted up his and Booker’s hand.
     “No Tommy,” Doug replied hurriedly, “It’s just… were you gay before
     you left?”
     Tom became impatient.  “For fuck’s sake Doug, I don’t want to talk
     about this now, I want to talk about us!  I’ve come back because I
     want you to come and live with me and Dennis.  We’ve got a great life
     now living with this elderly couple on a farm and they—”
     The sound of the front door slamming stopped Tom mid sentence and
     fear filled his eyes.  He turned towards the doorway, his expression
     full of horror as Aaron McQuaid walked into the room.
Choices 
Aaron McQuaid stared at the couch where his youngest son sat, unable to believe
what he was seeing.  “Tommy!” he whispered, holding out his arms as though
expecting Tom to jump up and embrace him.  “Thank God you’re home.”
Tom sat frozen in fear, unable to voice his horror at seeing his father again. 
Booker stood up and slowly pulled Tom to his feet before standing in front of
him in an effort to shield him from any contact with Aaron.  “Lay a hand on him
and I’ll kill you,” Dennis warned, his tone relaying the hatred he felt for the
man standing before him.
Aaron turned his eyes to Doug.  “Who the hell is that?” he asked, motioning
towards Booker.
Doug chewed nervously on his lower lip.  “His name’s Dennis, he’s Tommy’s
friend.”
“BOYFRIEND!” Tom suddenly yelled.  “Dennis is my boyfriend.  He’s the one who
found me when I was alone on the streets.  He took me in, he helped me and I
love him!”
“Whoa son, calm down,” Aaron soothed.  “Let’s sit down and talk about it.”
Tom shot his father a look that was so full of hatred that Aaron actually took
a few steps back.  “I have nothing to say to you, you son-of-a-bitch,” Tom
murmured.  “You took my innocence from me and I’ll never, ever forgive you.”
“Tommy!” Aaron cried, his face twisting in anguish at the harsh words.  “I’m
sorry!  I didn’t—”
“You’re SORRY?” Tom yelled, pushing past Booker so he was standing only inches
from his father.  “You RAPED me you bastard!  For years and years you fucking
beat me and raped me and now you’re sorry?”  Tom let out a loud bitter laugh. 
“Well I guess that makes it all okay then.  Yeah Dad, let’s be best friends now
that you’re sorry.  All is fucking forgiven.”
Turning away, Tom took hold of Booker’s hand.  “We’re leaving.  Doug, if you
wanna talk then come with us, ‘cause I’m not spending another second breathing
the same air as this pedophile.”
Booker smiled proudly as he followed Tom out of the house and into the clean,
warm air.  He felt an enormous relief when Doug exited the house a few moments
later.  The three teenagers walked down the road to the park where Doug and Tom
used to spend their nights when escaping the wrath of their father.  Tom
climbed up onto the picnic table and sat cross-legged on the rough, chipped
surface.  Doug sat down on the attached bench but Dennis remained standing. 
Taking Tom’s hand, he gave it a gentle squeeze.  “I’m gonna go for a walk, give
you two a chance to talk, okay?”
Tom nodded silently as he pulled Dennis in for a quick kiss.  Doug cleared his
throat noisily, embarrassed at the public display of affection his brother was
showing towards another male.  Breaking apart, Booker held out his hand to
Doug.  “Great to finally meet you.  I hope you’ll consider what Tommy has to
say.”
“Yeah, you too,” Doug muttered, shaking Dennis’ hand lightly but unable to meet
his gaze.  When Dennis was out of earshot, Doug turned his attentions to Tom. 
“Jesus Christ Tommy, what the hell is going on?  You disappear for six-months
and then you turn up with some guy and tell me he’s your boyfriend!  This is
crazy!  You’re not gay!”
Staring down at his brother, Tom’s eyes filled with sadness.  “Out of
everything that’s happened, that’s what bothers you?” he asked quietly.  “I’ve
been through hell Doug.  I ended up in a city with no money and I had to sell
myself just so I could—”
“You were a prostitute?” Doug exclaimed.  “So what, that Dennis guy was your
pimp?”
Uncontrollable anger rushed through Tom’s veins and he hurled himself at Doug,
knocking him to the ground.  He managed to get in one good punch before Doug
overpowered him and he found himself lying on his back with his arms pinned
above his head and Doug’s heavy frame preventing him from moving.  “Calm down,”
Doug instructed, as Tom writhed beneath him.  “I don’t wanna hurt you Tommy but
I will if you don’t calm down.”
Seething that his brother had managed to get the better of him, Tom continued
to struggle until he slowly realized that it was a pointless exercise, Doug
outweighed him by at least eighty pounds.  He stopped moving and stared up at
Doug, scowling heavily.  “Okay, you can fucking get off me now.”
Standing up, Doug held out his hand but Tom ignored it, preferring to get to
his feet without assistance.  He rubbed at the red marks on his wrists before
climbing back onto the picnic table.  “He’s not my pimp,” he muttered, glaring
angrily at his brother.  “I’d probably be dead if it wasn’t for Booker.  He
helped me through some pretty awful stuff Doug, but now we have a really good
life and I want you to share it with me.”
“So what?  You and Dennis have shacked up and are living the American dream? 
Come on Tommy, this isn’t you!” Doug replied, his frustration evident in his
terse tone of voice. 
“What isn’t me?” Tom asked quietly.  “Being gay or being happy?”
Doug’s eyes softened and he pulled Tom into a hug.  “I didn’t mean that Tommy. 
It’s just, things have changed for me too.  When you left, Dad lost it.  He
felt responsible and it was what he needed to turn his life around.  He gave up
the booze and he’s held a job for months now.  He even came to the family
therapy sessions they held at juvy.  Seriously Tommy, he’s a different man
he’s—”
“A child rapist,” Tom murmured softly as tears filled his eyes.  “Jesus Doug,
how can you forget what he did to me?”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Doug muttered, his cheeks burning red, “But I think he
was in a bad place when Mom died and he didn’t know what he was doing.”
Tom jumped down from the table and began to pace up and down in an agitated
manner.  “Are you fucking kidding me?” he cried, as the tears he had so far
managed to contain, slowly slid down his cheeks.  “I was eleven Doug!  Eleven! 
How can you justify what he did to me?  He stole my childhood and I don’t care
how much he’s changed, I will never, ever forgive him!”
Doug sat silently for several minutes before speaking, “So I guess that’s it
huh?  You don’t want to come home and I don’t want to leave, at least not at
the moment I don’t.”
“I guess so,” Tom replied gloomily.  “But if you change your mind, you can come
anytime, no questions asked okay?”  He pulled the information card out of his
wallet that contained Henry and Louisa’s address and phone number.  “Here,” he
said, handing it to Doug.  “Just promise me you won’t give it to Dad, because I
swear, if he comes anywhere near me, I’ll kill him.”
Tom’s words made Doug shudder.  Taking the card, he put it in his wallet.  “I
promise,” he murmured and he gave his brother his lopsided smile.  “Are you
really happy Tommy?” he asked softly, wiping the tears from Tom’s face.  “I
mean, this Dennis guy, does he treat you good?”
Tom smiled broadly.  “He’s my world Doug and I couldn’t be happier.”
The two brothers held each other close for several minutes before Doug turned
silently away and left Tom sitting alone with only his thoughts for company.
 
***** Carpe Diem *****
Chapter Notes
     Well this is it, the final chapter and I actually feel quite sad
     letting these boys go :) I truly hope that you have enjoyed
     reading "What Is and What Should Never Be" as much as I have enjoyed
     writing it and that this final chapter meets your expectations.
     Previously: Doug sat silently for several minutes before speaking,
     “So I guess that’s it huh?  You don’t want to come home and I don’t
     want to leave, at least not at the moment I don’t.”
     “I guess so,” Tom replied gloomily.  “But if you change your mind,
     you can come anytime, no questions asked okay?”  He pulled the
     information card out of his wallet that contained Henry and Louisa’s
     address and phone number.  “Here,” he said, handing it to Doug. 
     “Just promise me you won’t give it to Dad, because I swear, if he
     comes anywhere near me, I’ll kill him.”
     Tom’s words made Doug shudder.  Taking the card, he put it in his
     wallet.  “I promise,” he murmured and he gave his brother his
     lopsided smile.  “Are you really happy Tommy?” he asked softly,
     wiping the tears from Tom’s face.  “I mean, this Dennis guy, does he
     treat you good?”
     Tom smiled broadly.  “He’s my world Doug and I couldn’t be happier.”
     The two brothers held each other close for several minutes before
     Doug turned silently away and left Tom sitting alone with only his
     thoughts for company.
Carpe_Diem 
Dennis walked into the town center and found a café.  He ordered a strong
coffee and sat by the window watching the people walk leisurely back and forth,
going about their daily business.  The scene was such a contrast to the busy
inner city streets where he spent so many years fighting for survival.  He
thought it would have been a nice town to grow up in but for Tommy, it had been
a nightmare.  He was still trying to get his head around the scene at the
house.  How Aaron McQuaid could have thought that Tom would forgive him was
inconceivable to Booker.  Tom’s father obviously had no idea of the
psychological damage he had caused his son.  Dennis knew that Tom still had
many hurdles to face in his life and all because of one man’s transgressions. 
But he also knew that whatever happened, he would be by Tom’s side, helping him
through his trauma.  Their life together was just beginning and Dennis looked
forward to showing Tommy the world and all the wonderful things it had to
offer.
Checking his watch, he decided to find a place for him and Tom to spend the
night.  He asked the helpful café manager and she directed him to The Pines
Motel which was only a few blocks up the road.  He walked the short distance
and paid for a single night.  He was glad to offload both his and Tom’s bags,
which he had been carrying around since leaving the park.  He switched on the
television and attempted to lose himself in the mind numbing banality of a
daytime soap but he could not settle and he soon found himself nervously pacing
the floor, wondering what was happening between Doug and Tom.  After their
reunion at the house, Dennis did not feel optimistic that Doug would want to
join them on the farm.  He only hoped that Tom would not take it too hard.  He
knew his lover had counted down the days until his brother’s release, longing
for the time that they would once again be reunited.  During the last few
months, he knew Tom had imagined that he would be able to come back and offer
Doug the dream life that the Hendersons had offered to the two of them.  But
six months was a long time apart when you were a teenager and a lot could
change.  During that time, Aaron McQuaid had obviously managed to claw his way
back into Doug’s life and gained his trust.  But then Doug had never been
treated as abhorrently by his father as Tom had.  He had received beatings but
never the vile, sexual assaults that Aaron had inflicted upon his youngest
son.  Without Tom there as a reminder, Booker assumed that it would have been
easy for Aaron to manipulate Doug into believing that it was not his fault and
Doug, stuck in juvenile detention, probably sought comfort from the only
relative he had left.  That did not mean that Booker understood how Tom’s
brother could have so easily been conned by his father, he did not.  But he
guessed he was probably not the best person to pass judgment on the dynamics of
the father/son relationship, given that he had grown up without his Dad since
the age of nine.
Unable to bear the suspense any longer, Dennis turned off the television and
left the motel.  He walked back along the wide leafy streets towards the park. 
On the way he passed by the bottom of the McQuaids' road and for a moment he
stood and stared at the neglected building that had been Tom’s home.  He was
grateful that he had been able to see where Tom came from, even though the
house had only been his home for a few weeks.  It was another piece of the
Tommy puzzle and Booker enjoyed slotting the pieces together and getting a
glimpse of the Tom of old.  He felt closer to Tom now than he ever had, just by
being in the small, all American town.  Dennis knew Tom had spent all of his
life in the surrounding neighborhoods and he closed his eyes and imagined Tom
aged six, when life was still good, learning to ride a bike.  He pictured him
falling off and skinning his knee, his full lower lip quivering as he tried not
to cry in front of his big brother.  Tears filled Booker’s eyes and he allowed
them to fall unchecked.  What he felt for Tom he had never before felt for
another human being and he marveled at how wonderful it was and yet at the same
time, so very painful, to have such deep feelings of love for another person.  
He gave the shabby house one final glance before continuing to walk.  He passed
by Tom’s old school and again he stopped and leaned on the railing, imagining
Tom sitting in a overcrowded classroom, sullenly refusing to participate in any
lively class discussions.  He pictured Tom’s humiliation when his English
teacher had confronted him about his illiteracy.  The thought immediately
brought back memories of teaching Tom to read.  He thought it seemed like years
ago since they sat in the small room of The Exeter hotel and he had patiently
explained how various letter combinations formed certain sounds.  Tom had been
a quick study and Dennis could remember feeling immense pride at how quickly
Tom had learnt, given the situation of their lives. 
He let out a melancholy sigh then grinned to himself for being such a
sentimental fool.  When he was a small boy, his mother used to say, “Yesterday
is history, tomorrow is a mystery, today is a gift of God.”  He never really
understood it at the time but now he knew exactly what his mother meant and in
a way, it gave an insight into her own behavior after his father left.  There
was no point in looking back and you never really knew what the future held, so
living for today was the only real option you had.  Carpe diem, seize the
day.   They were words Dennis hoped he could teach Tom to live by.
With that thought, Booker turned and walked the last few blocks back to the
playground.  As he rounded the corner, he saw Tom sitting motionless on a
child’s swing and his heart sank, as he knew that Doug would not be coming with
them back to the farm.  Gathering his thoughts, he made his way slowly over to
his lover.  When Tom did not look up, Dennis squatted on the ground in front of
him and laid his palms on Tom’s thighs.  “I’m so sorry baby,” he whispered
softly.  “I’m so fucking sorry.”
Tom lifted his tear stained face and gave Booker a watery smile.  “It doesn’t
matter.  I don’t belong here, not anymore and I don’t think Doug belongs with
us.”
“Maybe you’re right baby,” Dennis agreed, as he wiped the tears from Tom’s
cheek with the ball of his thumb.  “And I don’t think you ever belonged here. 
You belong with me and I only wish I’d found you sooner.”
“I wish you had too,” Tom murmured and leaning forward, he kissed Dennis
tenderly before slowly pulling apart.  “Doug’s changed so much, he doesn’t seem
to want to remember all the suffering we went through.”
Booker sat back on his heels and carefully thought out his reply.  “Maybe
that’s a good thing.  You know, putting things behind you can help you heal.”
“You think I should forgive my father for what he did to me?” Tom asked
incredulously.  “Jesus Dennis, I thought you of all people would—”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” Booker quickly interjected.  “I hate your father
as much as you do Tommy and he should be in prison for what he did to you.  All
I’m saying is that holding on to the hatred and the anger is only going to hurt
you.  I want you free from all that pain.  And maybe Doug not coming with us is
a way for you to move on.  You can truly start your life over.”
“Do you really think so?” Tom asked quietly, tears once again welling in his
soft, brown eyes.  “I thought he and I would be together always.  I never
imagined my life without him.”
Dennis gave a comforting smile.  “And yet you survived six months without him
Tommy.  You need to start spreading those wings and you need to realize that
you are more than capable of making your own decisions without your brother. 
Never forget what your father did to you and sure as hell never forgive it but
push it back into the past, okay?  If Doug wants to stay, let him stay.  Forget
about this place, this is no longer your life.  You have so much more to look
forward to back east.  There are people there who love you and can’t wait to
have you back home.  Start living for the now Tommy and I promise you, life
will get easier.”
Standing up, Tom pulled Booker to his feet and wrapping his arms around his
lover, he kissed him slowly and lovingly.  “The best day of my life was the day
you followed me into that alleyway,” he murmured against Dennis’ lips.
Booker smiled as he gently stroked Tom’s hair.  “And there’ll be plenty more of
those days Tommy, just you wait and see.”
“I love you Dennis Patrick Booker,” Tom murmured.
“And I love you, Thomas James McQuaid,” Booker replied lovingly.  “C’mon let’s
call Henry and Louisa and let them know when we’ll be back.”
Tom smiled contentedly.  He had been through so much in his short life but he
was a survivor.  Booker was right, he needed to let go of all the anguish he
had suffered and live only in the present.  He loved Doug dearly and always
would, but he understood that he needed to walk away and leave the past behind
him.  He had Dennis and the Hendersons in his life now and that was all the
family he needed. 
Taking Booker by the hand, they left the park.  As they walked down the
familiar streets of his past, Tom felt a huge weight lifting off his
shoulders.  He was finally leaving the memories of his childhood behind him and
in doing so, he was free to become a man.
Finis
 
 
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