by Azia C. Ita
“Why are you doing this?”
He looked up, startled at the harsh accusation. “Pardon?”
Dennis’ cheeks flushed, “Nothing.” He took the offered books, pressing them against his chest, and turned away, moving as quickly as he could without breaking into a run.
Victor stared after him, watching the yellow-haired boy leave, wondering if he’d done something wrong.
Dennis darted around the corner, stopping to catch his breath, leaning against the painted concrete. His heart was pounding and his stomach shook, as if he’d been running the mile. He shifted the books into one arm, the other pressing against the wall to help him stand straight again.
He jumped when he saw the tall boy in front of him again. Allan. Frozen, he didn’t move when those bony fingers drew the books away from him, dropping them on the ground, one by one. “You’re going to be late.”
“I have to,” the words were gasps, pleading, “take those books to class.”
Allan smiled, the books all discarded, his hand reached out, undoing the top button of Dennis’ shirt, “And what will your punishment be if you don’t?”
He winced, but didn’t answer.
“And what will be your punishment if you go?”
He didn’t answer, just turned his face away, trying to hide it from the cruel glare.
The quiet laughter could pierce hearts. “I’m glad you decided to stay.”
– – –
Later, Dennis sat on the back steps of the equipment shed. A pile of books lay at his feet.
“Are you okay?”
He looked up to the voice, his body tensing, eyes widening. “I have to go to class.”
Victor nodded, “Oh.” The boy didn’t move. Victor bent down, picking up the books on the ground, “Do you need help carrying these there?”
Dennis stared, slowly standing.
“Are you okay? You look pale. And,” His eyes narrowed slightly in concern as they scanned over the wrinkled clothes, “disheveled.”
“Why are you doing this?”
He raised a brow, “Pardon?”
“Leave me alone, Allan!” Dennis leaped from the step he was on, darting away before the other boy had a chance to react.
Victor blinked, his arm full of books, the words in his mouth never escaping: I’m not Allan.
– – –
Allan lounged by the bus station, a novel propped open in his hands, a sly smile on his lips.
“What are you doing to that poor boy?”
He looked up at Victor, his smile unbalanced for only a moment. “What ever do you mean?”
“That blond kid. He’s terrified of you, what are you doing?”
The grin widened. “Oh, he’s no kid. He’s quite grown up.” Allan dropped his eyes back to his book, licking his lips.
Ripping the novel from his hands, Victor clenched it in his fingers, disfiguring the cover and pages, “What the hell are you thinking?”
Allan looked up, mock surprise on his face, “Well, I had to find something to fill my time.” That grin again, as his fingers reached out, touching Victor’s jaw. “Since you don’t anymore.”
“This isn’t a game.” The book batted away the touch and Victor stepped back. “Don’t screw up someone else’s life because I won’t let you have what you want.”
Allan laughed, coldly, and turned toward the approaching bus, “Well, then I suppose we’re at an impasse, brother. You’re going to have to give me what I want, or you’re going to have a very difficult time keeping me away from my new interest.”
Victor growled as his twin stepped onto the bus and he followed shortly after. Allan and his goddamn games.
– – –
Dennis was biting his hand so he wouldn’t cry out. Allan didn’t like when he made noise and now that they heard footsteps, he was certain Allan would be even more displeased. It didn’t mean Allan stopped, but that Dennis bit harder.
The footsteps neared and when they stopped Dennis could see the standard black dress shoe that every student wore. He clenched his eyes shut.
Allan paused, but didn’t remove himself.
“Pull out.” The man said, his voice so familiar that Dennis looked up.
Had Allan not been unmistakably behind him, Dennis would have thought it was him. He blinked, staring at Victor with horrified curiosity. With a surprised gasp he felt Allan pull out and Dennis quickly pulled his pants on, willing to risk Allan’s wrath in exchange for some shred of decency. But the man wasn’t looking at Dennis, he was glaring at Allan.
The pair was unmistakably twins. Dennis wondered how he could not have noticed before.
Allan stood casually, not bothering to tuck himself away, not losing his brother’s eyes. He smiled, “Care to take his place?”
Dennis gagged and Victor’s eyes darted to him. “Get out.” He couldn’t seem to move, but Allan’s twin jerked his hand toward the door. “Get out.”
He scrambled away, the last words he heard: “I won’t let you hurt him anymore.”
Dennis waited outside, crouching behind some bushes, watching people pass the building at a distance. Finally Allan emerged, a confident and sated look on his face. Dennis waited, but no one else left. Taking in a breath, he crept back to where Allan had taken him.
The twin was sitting on a box, feet propped on a crate, arms stretched on the clutter behind him, staring at the ceiling, a cigarette pressed between his lips.
Victor didn’t move, just puffed smoke in the air. “So, you didn’t want it?”
Dennis shook his head.
“Why didn’t you rat him out?”
He bit his lip, dropping his gaze from the stretched-out form.
“My name’s Victor, by the way.” Another puff of smoke rose toward the black ceiling.
“I’d say nice to meet you, but I’m afraid I’ve met people under better circumstances.”
“So you mentioned. You better stand up to him and tell him ‘No’ or else he’ll never stop harassing you. I can’t keep fucking with him forever.”
“You–” Dennis choked on the word and was greeted by smoke and laughter.
“Yeah.” He said it relaxed, drawing smoke into his lungs.
“You shouldn’t have–I mean–I could have taken it–there was no reason–” He stopped when Victor waved his hand to silence him.
“Not the first time. Doubt it’ll be the last. My brother’s a bit of a narcissist.”
Dennis slapped his hand over his mouth to muffle his reaction. When he thought it was safe, he lowered it. “I thought I wanted it in the beginning. I–I–”
“Got a crush on Allan?”
Victor didn’t look, but Dennis had the feeling he could see his nodding. “He was so strong willed and smart,” he mumbled. “But then… and I couldn’t tell…”
“Well, you better figure something out.” Victor finally moved, standing with the same grace and speed as Allan did. Dennis jumped back, but Victor just dropped his cigarette butt to the ground and put it out with his heel. “My little intervention won’t stop him for long. Especially if he thinks he can keep using you to get to me, which I won’t let happen forever, understood?”
Dennis nodded, still not looking up. Then there were long bony fingers lifting his chin and Victor was staring down at him, an amused grin on his face. “Too bad you didn’t meet me first. Take care of yourself.”
Victor turned and walked out, leaving Dennis staring at the darkness in his wake.
– – –
“Victor, be sure to help your brother with dinner,” his mother’s voice commanded on the voice mail. “And leave us leftovers in the fridge, but don’t wait up, we’ll be late. Love you, honey.” He closed his phone and his eyes, taking a deep breath.
“What does our dear mother say?” Allan asked, not bothering to glance up from his homework.
“Guess,” he muttered.
“We won’t be home for dinner,” Allan mimicked their mother’s voice. “Be good little boys while I’m fucking the man of the hour.”
He snorted softly. “I’m to help you with dinner.”
Allan glanced at his watch. “When do you want to eat?”
“Whenever you’re done there. Need anything defrosted?”
“No, just throw the chicken in the marinade I made so it can sit for a while.” Allan sighed, his eyes skimming luxuriously over his brother’s body in an unasked question.
Victor shook his head in response. “I’ll go do that.” He left his brother alone in their bedroom to prepare the chicken, then lingered in the living room. If he stayed in the room too long, Allan would abandon his school work to seduce Victor, using Dennis as a threat. And Victor would give in. To protect Dennis.
Because he wanted his brother happy.
Life was never simple.
He was still lounging on the couch when Allan finally emerged from their bedroom and started supper. Victor wandered in and did what he was told, being sure to keep out of Allan’s way. Even if he couldn’t anticipate what Allan would do, even if he wasn’t nearly as talented as Allan in the kitchen, Victor still had a keen sense of what Allan wanted. Even when it didn’t involve dinner.
They laughed and joked while they cooked, as if the events outside of the house didn’t involve them, as if Allan wasn’t playing a game with live bait to get what he wanted. Inside the house was always safe. Victor wasn’t sure why, but Allan never continued the games he played there. He wouldn’t even discuss them. They’d had sex in the house before, before Victor realized what was going on, but the games never went beyond the front door. Here they were brothers.
“Do you need help with your Physics work? I know Mr. Maru is planning on using it as a test grade.”
Victor frowned, “How’d you hear that?”
“Teacher’s pet, remember?” Allan reminded with a playful grin. “I saw it on his schedule when I was helping him with paperwork.”
“Feels like an unfair advantage,” he wavered.
“You’ve got to take the advantages you have to get what you want.” Allan’s intense eyes spoke volumes. “You want to get into your top university, don’t you?”
Victor looked down, hesitating to succumb.
With a sigh, Allan leaned over, brushing his brother’s cheek with utmost tenderness. “I just want you to do well.” He slid his thumb over the arch of his cheek. “I’ll just look over what you have, make sure it’s right. Not cheating, is it?”
“No,” Victor admitted, “it’s not cheating.”
– – –
“Dennis, may I speak with you a moment?”
Dennis’ steps faltered and he clutched his book bag over his shoulder as he approached his teacher, “Yes, Mr. Kamawai?”
Mr. Kamawai motioned to a chair and Dennis sat, unnerved when the larger man didn’t, towering over him. “To be frank, I’m concerned about your grades, Dennis. You’ve always done very well in History and your previous teachers have said nothing but good things–and I saw that at the beginning of the year. But you’ve been handing assignments in late and incomplete works.”
“I’m–I’m sorry, sir.”
“I’m not here to blame you, I just want to know if something is wrong. If you need help in anything.”
He hesitated, dropping his eyes as his cheeks burnished a bright red tinge. “I…” his voice cracked.
As Mr. Kamawai was about to make an encouraging noise, three students opened the door and came in. They were laughing and jostling one another and Dennis took the opportunity to stand, grabbing his bag and practically running out the door.
The History teacher sighed, leaning back on the desk he’d propped against, worried about his student.
– – –
He whimpered, trying to melt into the brick wall behind him as Allan slunk closer, his long fingers stroking Dennis’ cheek. “My precious toy, you needn’t worry,” he purred. “I’ve already been taken care of today.”
“What… what do you want?” He didn’t mean to sound so desperate, but Allan was so close and his body couldn’t help but react.
“Just to remind you.” Allan leaned in, brushing his lips over Dennis’ ear before nipping. “Don’t forget.”
With one final stroke of his tongue over the curve of his flesh, Allan moved away with all the casual care that he always carried himself. A breath later it was as if he reappeared around the opposite corner, his shirt buttoned up and his hair neatly combed. “Vic-Victor?”
A breath of concern flickered over Victor’s face as he headed to where Dennis was still leaning. His hand shot out, his fingers following the exact path that Allan’s had and Dennis couldn’t help but wince. “Has he been bothering you?”
“No…” He flushed brightly, lowering his chin so Victor’s fingers slipped away. “He just… wanted to remind me.”
Victor snorted, stepping back and readjusting his pack. “You don’t belong to him. That’s what you should remember.” He waved with a flick of his elegant hand as he left Dennis behind and headed to his class.
– – –
Mr. Kamawai found Dennis sitting on the bench by the supply shed, his hair pointing in every which direction, his body trembling from heaving up the remains of his lunch. Without speaking, the teacher sat down beside him, gently rubbing his back. Dennis shuddered once, hunching over a little more, didn’t pull away.
It took him a while to respond, inhaling deeply and shaking as he did. But eventually the trembles became minimal and Dennis found his voice. “I…” he started, then realized he couldn’t explain anything without so much more being said that he wasn’t ready to say. “Complicated.”
“That tends to be the case when you’re facing something alone. But maybe together we can figure something out.” When Dennis didn’t say anything, Mr. Kamawai added, “I’m not saying you have to, I just want you to know the help is here,” he hesitated a moment before, “with no judgments.”
“I’m gay,” Dennis rushed out, clamping down on his lips once he had.
Mr. Kamawai sighed in relief. “There is nothing wrong with that.”
Hunching farther, he shook his head. “I know,” he said, not sounding convinced. “I… I had a crush on someone.”
Although the teacher wanted to push for more information, he held his tongue, still rubbing Dennis’ back, waiting him out.
“I thought he was great. But he’s not. He hurts me. I don’t like it.” He shook his head, this time dislodging the tears that had built up. “Then his… this other guy stopped him. He… he’s taking my place. I don’t want him getting hurt, but I can’t… I can’t stop Ah–” He snapped his jaw.
“If you tell me who is doing this to you, we can stop it together.”
“No!” He clamped his mouth again. “I can’t.”
There was hesitation again before he answered. “I don’t want to get them in trouble.”
“Dennis, if he’s hurting you–”
Before Mr. Kamawai could react, Dennis was up and bolting, escaping something he didn’t think he could change.
– – –
Allan groaned, the strain on his wrist from the binds nearly as severe as the strain in his pants. “Please. Oh. God. Please.” He threw his head back, clenching his eyes and arching his hips up into the contact. Victor just sighed softly, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons and zipper.
“Why should I?” His voice was husky and deep. Turned on. He didn’t try to hide it; his brother knew it, just as much as he was himself. Allan liked it that way. As screwed up as he was, he wanted Victor to enjoy it. He wanted Dennis to enjoy it too, but Dennis wasn’t built for his games.
“Anything,” he whimpered as Victor’s fingers stroked through his boxers.
“Leave Dennis alone.”
Allan whimpered, smashing his head backwards into the pillow several times, but he didn’t answer.
“You can’t, can you?”
He squirmed, pressing the heat of his flesh into the cup of Victor’s hand. “Please, please, Victor.”
Running his fingers along his brother’s cock, Victor contemplated Allan’s position, his begging, his swollen lips. At his silence, Allan’s eyes opened, dark and needy, crying out for Victor’s touch. “What will you promise me?”
“I’m yours! Anything!” He strained up, then collapsed back into the bed, his skin sheeted with sweat.
“But not only mine.” He swiped his tongue over Allan’s head, tasting the bitterness there. “I want you to only fuck who I say you can fuck.”
“Nnng.” Allan pulled on the ropes that held his arms, thrashing his body without pulling his cock from Victor. Gasping, wordless noises escaped him until he finally jerked his head roughly, “Yes. Yours.”
With that, Victor dropped his mouth over his twin’s cock, taking it all the way in and sucking until he released.
– – –
Mr. Kamawai tensed as he saw Victor’s spitting image approach the nervous Dennis. With each step, Dennis shrank, eyes locked on the other twin. Allan, Mr. Kamawai knew his name was. Allan’s black hair was ruffled and wild, not combed and neat like Victor’s, but he had the same leonine body and nearly predatory stride. He cornered Dennis, one arm caging him in, the free hand reaching for his cheek.
As if from nowhere, Victor turned the corner and Allan jerked away, his head snapping toward his twin. Without a single gesture, Allan left his prey and melted to Victor’s side, worry flickering over his face to be replaced with an almost calm smile. They continued on, out of eyesight, and he glanced to Dennis, who was pale and trembling, but otherwise unharmed. The gaps began to fill.
– – –
Allan let Victor’s cock slip from his lips, his tongue dashing out to clean up the mess that was left. “I didn’t fuck him,” he promised, having made amends for his slip.
“I know.” Victor leaned his head back, exhausted. Allan tucked him away before crawling up his body to settle against his brother.
“He’s nothing compared to you anyway,” Allan continued, kneeling to straddle him, hands pressing fiercely against Victor’s shoulders. The gleam of dominance returned with a dangerous grin and Victor relaxed into it, knowing if he fought too much, it would just hurt.
– – –
“Victor Reynolds, please report to room 211. Victor Reynolds, please report to room 211.”
Victor glanced up at the announcement over the loudspeaker, spared a glance to his brother who bore the same confused look as he did, then stood and gathered his things. He purposefully walked passed Allan when he left, and his twin brushed his fingers against his hand, sharing a molecule of concern in that moment.
The halls were empty in the middle of the day, and Victor found himself alone as he walked to the indicated room. When he arrived, he realized it was a History class, Freshman or Sophomore, he couldn’t remember. He knocked.
Mr. Kamawai opened the door and let him in, being sure to lock it behind him. Victor said nothing of this oddity. “You needed me for something, sir?”
“Yes.” He paused as they both took seats and faced one another. Mr. Kamawai studied Victor’s stiff body and tired eyes. “I need to ask you some things about one of my students.
Victor tensed minutely, but nodded, “Yes, sir?”
“Do you know Dennis Walker?”
“What’s his relationship with your brother, Allan?”
The tension in his body increased, even as he tried to take calming breaths. He answered carefully. “What has Dennis shared in the matter?”
Mr. Kamawai’s eyes studied him knowingly for a moment, then nodded to himself. “He hasn’t named names, but he indicated that someone was abusing him until a third party interfered. I just want to help Dennis get out of a bad situation, and if I’m helping you as well, I think it’s best you tell me what’s going on.”
If Victor hadn’t been expecting this, hadn’t been so prepared, he would have hesitated or panicked. Instead he inhaled deeply. “It’s not quite abuse, like you think. But before I say anything, I need sworn secrecy that what I’m sharing won’t go beyond us two.”
“If you have proof that Dennis is being hurt, I have to report it.”
“It’s not that simple, and he’s safe for now.” He inhaled. “Promise.”
“As long as no one is being harmed, I promise not to divulge this conversation.”
Taking it as the best he’d get, Victor nodded. “I can’t speak for Dennis, but he’s told me some things. He got a crush on my brother and my brother is not one to deny himself such pleasure freely given, especially when his previous partner was no longer… involved with him.” He paused enough to gather himself, but not for Mr. Kamawai to interrupt.
“Allan isn’t all that he seems, both emotionally and sexually.” Another brief hesitation. “He enjoys dominating in bed, but equally needs to be dominated at times. His previous partner understood this, but Dennis didn’t. Allan became more and more aggressive, trying to push Dennis into fighting back, but it’s not in his nature to, so Allan became over powering.
“To distract him from Dennis, his previous partner resumed their involvement, but… but he’d rather not.”
Trying not to let disgust show on his face, Mr. Kamawai asked, “You’re his previous partner, aren’t you?”
Victor hesitated, then nodded. “I do love my brother, Mr. Kamawai, but he and I cannot continue like this. He needs someone who can match his needs and appetite, and Dennis isn’t it.” He blushed, suddenly acutely aware he was having this discussion with a teacher.
“You seem to have this all figured out. How much is he aware of?”
With a sigh, Victor closed his eyes a moment. “Being aware doesn’t change his needs any.” He locked his dark eyes on Mr. Kamawai. “But I won’t let them throw him in ‘therapy’ again. He just needs a good match, not counseling.” He sneered by the end, making his feelings on the matter clear.
“While I don’t know your brother like you do,” he conceded, “how can you be certain that counseling isn’t what he needs?”
“We already tried it. Our parents figured out something was happening and insisted we go. Allan was miserable when they kept us separated all the time. They think it’s all about sex, but it’s not.” His cheeks darkened again and he looked down. “He just needs to give up control sometimes.”
“Do you feel the same way?”
“No…” When he met Mr. Kamawai’s eyes, Victor’s gaze had softened. “I understand it, but it’s hard for me to be as demanding as he needs, and then as compliant. I can be, but…”
Mr. Kamawai nodded in understanding. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”
“And you won’t tell?”
“Not as of yet. I want to talk to Allan first, but I’ll be sure to talk to you before I would report this.”
– – –
Allan pulled off his shirt, stretching up to relieve the tightening muscles as his body cooled down from his workout. He was still sweaty, but he didn’t take a shower, even if his school had high-quality facilities. He was looking forward to going home and having Victor lick the sweat off his body. Smiling at the thought, he dropped his shorts to the floor and reached for his slacks.
He wasn’t sure how it happened–whoever it was had been fast–but his body was being squashed against the lockers, his wrists secured out to the sides and the guy behind him fitting perfectly against his ass. The guy was hard, but not humping, just holding him there securely, but not immobilized. Allan could move if he wanted. “What the hell?”
Lips touched the back of his neck, followed by the swath of a tongue. With his head practically shoved in the locker, he couldn’t really turn around to see who was behind him, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. His heart pounded as he half-heartedly struggled.
“Come now, Allan,” the voice was rough with need and slightly familiar. “I just want to help you.”
“By fucking raping me?” he growled, pushing his hips back against the captor.
“I wasn’t planning on it being rape.” And he did sound disgusted at the word. He shifted so Allan’s wrists were encompassed in one hand, the hold even easier to break from, but the stranger’s other hand was running down his side, then stroking his cock through his underwear. “Would it be rape?”
“Who are you?” he groaned, trying to twist his head to see, but the man just shifted his face to the other side of Allan’s neck, blocking him.
“I need to know if you want this, first. If you want me to be yours,” he growled. “If you want to be mine.” His hand tightened, blissfully painful on Allan’s cock.
He groaned, his hips thrusting into the pressure, “God yes.”
“Mmm, good.” The hand shoved into his underwear, warm, soft skin wrapping around Allan’s cock and stroking. Allan shuddered, clenching his eyes and throwing his head back, pressing it against the stranger’s.
“Yes. Yes. God. But…” he choked on the words as the hand tightened just beneath his head.
“But?” the voice purred.
“I promised…” he stuttered as the hand released, then gave another long stroke up. “I promised I wouldn’t fuck anyone else.”
“To your current… partner?”
Allan nodded, words sticking in his throat as the hand loosened, the fingers brushing in touches that were not enough. He whimpered at the loss.
“Get him to release you.” The stranger gave one last final, delicious stroke before the hand was retreating. “Then be mine.” He kissed the back of Allan’s neck.
The body, the heat, the hardness was all gone in a flash and Allan slumped against the lockers, fingers gripping onto the metal as he pushed his trembling body up. His balls ached with the need to release, but he couldn’t. No, he needed Victor to do it. One last time.
– – –
With a sigh, Victor threw the casserole dish in the oven and set the timer to reheat it. Allan had cooked it that weekend, knowing he’d be too late for dinner and that Victor was not nearly as competent in the kitchen. Allan… he sighed, what can I do with you?
Shuffling into the living room where his books were spread on the coffee table, he dropped down onto the carpet to get to work on his History homework. History. That just reminded him of the conversation with Mr. Kamawai. It still built a feeling of dread in his stomach, wondering how much trouble they were going to get into.
The slam of the front door startled him, as did the thump of a book bag hitting the floor and the thunder of Allan practically running into the living room.
His brother was flushed, his hair a mess and the top buttons of his shirt undone, but most noticeable was the erection that strained in his pants. His eyes were glassy with need, his lips parted, panting as he began to undo his pants.
“Victor.” He shoved down his pants, revealing the wet stain already forming where his cock leaked onto his whites. “Victor, hold me down and jerk me off.” He was already crossing the room, grabbing Victor’s face and kissing him.
But what shocked him wasn’t Allan’s aggressive kissing, it was the near-begging quality of his demand. Something had happened. Knowing better than to ask before his brother’s arousal was attended to, Victor grabbed Allan and turned them, pinning his brother’s chest to the couch. “Like this?”
Allan moaned and his hips jerked and Victor thought for one moment that he’d come just from that. But when his hand went into his brother’s underwear it was still hard, no matter how much come was already staining. When he took him in hand, Allan buried his face in the cushion, severely enough that Victor worried about suffocation. It didn’t keep him from slowly jerking Allan off though, responding to his needy cries and twitching hips.
And when he’d come, his body slumped bonelessly beneath Victor and then turned in the loosened hold. Allan tangled his fingers in his brother’s hair, pulling him down for a tender, wet kiss. “Release me.”
“Release you?” he murmured against Allan’s lips. “Why?”
“Someone wants me.” He kissed his brother again, lightly, less passionately. “Someone who can handle me.”
“Mmhmm. He seems to know the game.” Allan smiled in drowsy, post-sex luxury.
Victor tensed, raising a brow, “Who is he?”
“I don’t know,” he sighed happily. “Wouldn’t let me see his face.”
He stroked his fingers through Allan’s hair and pushed away, adjusting himself and his clothes. “If that’s what you want. But you still better leave Dennis alone.”
Allan hummed his agreement, but Victor was barely listening. He wasn’t really worried about Dennis at this point. He had other concerns.
– – –
It was after the school day and Mr. Kamawai was putting papers to grade into his briefcase. When a slice of the black pants of the school uniform caught his eye and he looked up, startled to find one of the Reynolds brothers standing there. He took in the mussed hair and wrinkled clothes and logic told him it should be Allan. “Victor?”
The boy nodded, “Yeah.” He raked his fingers through his hair nervously and Mr. Kamawai noticed the gym bag hanging from his other hand.
“How may I help you?”
“Did you–ah–approach Allan yesterday?”
“What are you implying?” he gave a discreet glance to the open door of his classroom. “Such relationships are not allowed by the school.”
Victor’s eyes glanced over too. “I just meant if you’d spoken with him,” he asked at a loud whisper.
“Words were exchanged.”
“Are you sure–I mean–You’re not going to–”
“I will make sure he’s safe,” Mr. Kamawai interrupted and the tension dropped out of Victor’s shoulders.
“He’ll be free Friday,” Victor murmured with a small nod of his head. “I’ll know if you hurt him.”
Mr. Kamawai held out his hand, palm up. “You have nothing to worry about.”
With the beginnings of a smile, Victor took the offering.
– – –
Dennis was in the library, tucked away with the references, a civil war tome spread out in front of him. When Victor appeared, he tensed, eyes trying desperately to tell which it was, but Victor just smiled, soft and tired. “Bananayam.”
“Hey, Victor.” He blushed a little, pulling his bag off the seat beside him. “What are you doing here?”
“Maybe I just came to see you,” he teased, getting the expected flush of color that spread up Dennis’ neck. Sitting down in the cleared spot, he winked. “I came to tell you Allan won’t bother you anymore. So you don’t have to be afraid of him or anything.”
“Oh,” he looked down, disappointedly. “Um, that’s good. Thanks. I mean, thanks for everything you’ve done.”
“No problem, just doing what’s best for everyone.”
“So, what happened? Are you still…” Dennis didn’t finish, but the scrunched look of disgust on his face told Victor enough.
“No. He found someone else. It might just work.”
“Who is it?”
Victor almost laughed. Instead it was a bare chuckle. “You assume my brother kisses and tells.”
“Why wouldn’t he? He’s awful.”
Before Dennis could react, Victor had slammed his book closed and was tightly in his space, “He kept your secret, didn’t he?”
Belatedly falling from his chair, Dennis scrambled back, eyes wide, “Ye–yes.”
With a sigh, Victor released the tension in his body, frowning softly and holding out his hand, “I’m sorry Dennis, it’s just… my brother isn’t a bad guy. Please…”
Dennis stood on his own, watching Victor warily. “He’s terrible. He… he hurt me. I thought you understood.”
Unfolding his long limbs from the chair, Victor stood, smiling sadly at Dennis. “Sorry.” He paused, as if to add something, then said, “I’m sorry.” Grabbing his things, he turned and left.
– – –
Allan wasn’t horny.
He was beyond horny. He hadn’t gotten off since the time with Victor three days prior, following the unspoken, but surely expected rule that the new guy had. Whoever he was. Allan didn’t have a clue, though he had an inkling that his brother knew–and approved at least a little. Any tension at the situation (as if he could feel any tension outside the need to get off), was eased by that fact. Victor wouldn’t let him come to harm.
At this point, Allan didn’t really care. He needed some serious fucking to happen. Now. Maybe not now, he was on the bus home–though, maybe that would be hot, pushed against the windows, everyone watching–but within five minutes of walking in the front door. He didn’t even care if his new partner was a pedophile rapist. He would later, of course, but not now. The breaths he took to settle down didn’t help, but it filled the seconds until the bus stopped and the door opened.
Outside he paused to breathe in deeply, his sole attention on getting home, so he didn’t see that he had company until that familiar voice asked, “How are you today, Allan?” and he nearly came in his pants.
Turning to finally see the mysterious stranger, he was shocked to find Mr. Kamawai leaning casually against his German-engineered car. “Mr. Kamawai?”
He smiled, slow and easy, straightening. “Yes. Are you still interested?”
Licking his lips answered better than words could. “How rude of me, would you like to come inside, Mr. Kamawai?”
With a nod, he closed the distance, walking beside Allan the short distance to the house. “You should call me Jack.”
Mr. Kamawai leaned down, voice husky in his ear, “I’m going to be fucking you, I’d like to think that outside the school you could at least call me by my first name.” He paused and smiled when Allan stopped. “I do hope you’ll be screaming it.”
“Yes, of course.” Allan looked up, their lips close enough to kiss if they weren’t outside. “Jack.”
– – –
Jack slammed Allan down onto the bed, the springs complaining, but not as loudly as Allan groaned. Jack just laughed, his fingers stroking over the stained boxers, gently squeezing the half-hard member. “You came already. Naughty boy.” He grabbed Allan’s arms and held them out of the way while his mouth dropped to the pale expanse where the ribs barely showed through the layers of muscle. There he kissed and nipped, making Allan writhe and whimper and hump his hips in the air. “So how can you make amends?”
“Oh!” Allan whimpered. “Oh, God.”
“Mmm,” he growled, tightening his hands around Allan’s arms until the younger man’s eyes shot open, gasping at the hint of pain. “Suck me off, but no coming.”
“God. Yes. Please.”
Jack rolled over, pulling off his boxer-briefs and getting comfortable while Allan watched him hungrily. “Get to it.”
Allan dove down, taking Jack in his mouth with a single swoop and swallow, until his nose was buried deep in the dark curls. He slid off slowly, wetting every inch to the head, which he sucked like a lollipop, laving the tip thoroughly. Jack was hard in his mouth and leaking profusely, which Allan cleaned with his tongue until the teacher was purring. “Good boy.”
Humming in enjoyment, he slurped Jack in until he bumped the back of his throat then sucked his cheeks in as he pulled off. Jack was making appreciative noises and Allan began sucking him off in earnest, his fingers stroking along his balls and the delicate skin there until he found the spot he was looking for. Pulling out until just the head remained in his mouth, Allan snatched a finger-full of skin with a pinch and a twist.
“Fuck!” Jack’s hips jerked up to get away from the pain at the same moment he shot his load. With a satisfied air, Allan swallowed him down, sucking gently until nothing remained but Jack’s soft cock. Releasing with a wet squelch, he climbed up Jack’s body, leaving sticky kisses in his wake.
“How was that?”
Jack ran his fingers through Allan’s hair, tugging gently then guiding him up to his mouth for a kiss. “I don’t know if I want to fuck you or hit you.”
Allan grinned. “Who says you’d be doing the fucking?”
“Oh?” Jack raised his hands over his head, clasping the bars of the headboard. “I’m all yours.”
– – –
“Fuck. Oh, God.” Groaning.
Victor really wished he hadn’t left his mp3 player in the room. He also sort of wished that they had gone elsewhere. And weren’t taking so long. He glanced at his watch. It was beyond time for dinner and if the breathers they kept taking were any indication, they had no inclination to come out any time soon.
With a sigh, he grabbed his wallet and keys and left to grab food at the burger joint one bus stop away.
– – –
Dennis watched Allan walk in, his school uniform exchanged for fitted jeans and a logo tee-shirt. His hair was sticking in every which direction, like it always did. Allan tore a hand through his hair and Dennis nearly gasped–it wasn’t Allan, it was Victor. It had to be, Allan never gave up his cool composure to show off an anxious twitch like that.
He jerked his head back to his mother who was looking at him with a questioning brow raised. “Yeah, Mom?”
“I asked if you’ll split a large milkshake with your sister.”
He glanced to Rebecca, whose wide eyes gleamed with hope and he smiled. “Sure.”
“Here you go.” He was handed a ten. “Is raspberry okay?”
“Yeah, fine… um…” He glanced to the ordering line, where Victor still stood.
“Is something wrong, dear?”
“Uh, no…” He reluctantly took headed to the counter with the money, overhearing his father scold his mother for coddling him.
At first he tried lingering back, as if he needed to look at the display, but Victor was still staring up at the menu, although he didn’t seem to be really seeing it. Knowing he couldn’t take too long, he finally just scurried to the counter, hoping Victor wouldn’t notice him.
“A raspberry milkshake please. Large.”
He handed over the money and got back his change, the hairs on his neck rising as he tried to make the workers go faster by staring at the milkshake machine. He received his order without incident and prepared to turn and walk back to his table, ignoring Victor.
He got half of it. When he turned around, he found Victor staring at him and he couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. He wasn’t scared of Victor, even after his show of temper the other day. But the fact that he could defend Allan, brother or not, was horrible. After what Allan had done to him!
Before he could force himself to react, Victor jerked his head away, making his body follow as he exited the restaurant.
– – –
Victor got as far as the benches before stopping and dropping into the convenient seat. Taking a deep breath, he chided himself for running. He wasn’t a runner. He faced problems. But seeing Dennis look so terrified of him had flagged his confidence. But of course he was scared, after Victor practically threatened him and had pretty much condoned Allan’s behavior.
So he waited, and eventually Dennis emerged with his family.
“Dennis! Hey, Dennis…” He trailed off when Dennis actually turned to face him. He looked less anxious now, with his family right there. “Uh, hey, do you think we could talk for a minute?”
“Why don’t you find me in school, we’re busy right now.” Dennis didn’t move, but he visibly tensed.
“Come on, just a minute. I have questions about History…”
“You’re not in my History class. I’ve got to go.” Dennis turned and his family followed, only a few curious glances being thrown over their shoulders.
– – –
Dennis’ heart pounded as he got into the car beside his sister. Victor had looked hurt at his blatant blow-off, but Dennis couldn’t talk to him in front of his family! His dad was already giving him shit for talking to “that queer-looking boy.” What if he had spoken to Victor? What if Victor had said something, done something, given something away? His father would kill him if he turned out to be one of those queers.
“Listen to me!”
“Sorry, Dad,” he blurted out, “I was thinking about–” Victor. “school. What did you say?”
“I said you should avoid boys like that. Don’t want people getting the wrong idea.”
“I just did, didn’t I?” He gulped. “I don’t want people thinking I’m gay.”
Dennis tried not to heave a sigh of relief as the topic went over to what movie they were watching that night. His little sister reached over and took his hand, offering him support. He smiled softly to her and she grinned back. Just beginning middle school, she was the smartest kid he knew, and the most understanding. Thank God for little sisters.
– – –
Monday morning, Victor was grumpy. He’d gotten very little sleep Friday night, since his brother hadn’t emerged from their bedroom until late, and then even less Saturday night, as his mother had decided to grace him with her presence and had wanted to know where Allan was. He’d tried to pass it off as “a friend’s” but she kept digging for info. Obviously he couldn’t tell the truth, so eventually he just said he didn’t know, which started her on a tirade. He’d been too angry to sleep well, and the next night he’d recalled a paper he had due the next morning and had stayed up all night finishing it.
He ignored his brother, who was almost chipper (something his classmates had never seen), and Mr. Kamawai, who he couldn’t look at without remembering some of the sounds he’d heard on Friday. He definitely avoided Dennis, because he really didn’t want his shitty day to get any worse. He took his lunch to the far side of the supply shed and nibbled on the sandwich, throwing the crusts on the ground in disinterest.
A sigh drew him from his wandering thoughts and he looked up to see Dennis shyly standing there. “Hey.”
He nodded, too tired to verbalize.
“I just wanted to apologize about Friday night. It’s just, my parents don’t know I’m gay and I can’t let them know and you’re, uh…”
“Flaming?” he said dryly.
“No! Just…you come across as gay and my dad gives me shit just for talking to people like you, so I couldn’t risk it.”
“It’s fine.” He shrugged.
“Oh. Um.” Dennis paused, shuffling his feet. “You wanted to talk?”
Victor threw another piece of crust at a pigeon that had gone after a previous scrap. “Yeah, but maybe not so much anymore. It would have just been more of me apologizing for before. But hey, now we’re even, so no harm, no foul.”
Dennis opened his mouth to argue, Victor could see it in the lines of angers in his forehead, but then he snapped his mouth shut. He waited another moment to calm down. “So, did you have a good weekend?”
He took the peace offering. “Not really. You?”
“It wasn’t bad. I–” he hesitated. “Would you want to hang out sometime?”
“You want to risk Daddy finding out?”
Dennis shrugged, sitting down beside Victor, their shoulders bumping. “He’s never really approved of anyone as a friend before, so I guess it doesn’t matter too much. I mean–I still don’t want him to know I’m gay.”
“So I’m only allowed to kiss you at school?”
“Yeah–wait, I mean–I never said!” His complaints went unvoiced as Victor’s mouth closed over his. Dennis tasted of fruit punch when Victor ran his tongue along the inside of his mouth. The younger boy gave a little whimper when Victor moved away and their lips smacked together again. He didn’t mind in the least as he used his size advantage to pull Dennis into his lap. It pinched off a bit of circulation, but it was worth having the heat pressing against him.
He eased them apart. “Any other rules I should know about?”
“Umm…” Dennis answered, staring at Victor’s mouth. “No sharing me with your brother?”
Victor laughed, his hand boldly brushing down to grope Dennis’ hard on. “Not a problem, I want this prize all for myself.”