Chapter 8 Justin climbed the stairs to Lance's room and knocked quietly.  Lance was there, waiting and pushed the door shut before pulling Justin into his arms.  He needed to feel Justin there, to know that Justin still wanted him, that he hadn't fucked everything up totally. Incredibly enough, Justin had the same needs.  Justin, who had almost been raped, was worried that Lance wouldn't love him.  "Can we make love?" he asked softly. Lance was stunned.  He had expected that that would be a long time coming again, if ever.  He shook his head.  It was too soon, too soon after last night. "Please, I need to know you love me." "I do love you and I can show you.  Just not that.  Not tonight. God, Justin, I hit you, I almost raped you.  Let's just be together...." Justin was silent, shaking, as if he had been rejected.  Lance was sure that the only word he heard was no. Lance kissed him on the lips, his tongue tasting Justin, moving to his neck, sucking gently and licking sensitive skin, whispering breath into his ear.  They moved backwards toward the bed and Lance started to pull Justin's shirt off, but stopped when Justin's eyes flew open, fear evident. "I...I..." he couldn't tell Lance what was wrong, ask for what he needed.  It seemed so simple when Lance said to do it but so hard now.  He ground his teeth together, "I don't want to be the only naked one tonight." Lance felt shame flood through him as he replayed forcing Justin to strip.  "No, baby, no." Without another word, he was out of his own clothes, offering himself to Justin.  Justin smiled and undressed and pulled Lance down to the bed. Lance leaned up on his elbow, staring down at his lover, smiling at the quizzical look on Justin's face.  "You are so amazingly beautiful, so fucking hot, inside and out," Lance said, punctuating each word with a light kiss, a new spot each time.  Justin closed his eyes, blushing at the words,  and moaned as Lance moved the kisses down his body, swirling his nipples and licking a path between them. Justin reached for Lance and his hands caught in the silky strands, delighting in the feel of them as his fingers slid through. He tugged a little as Lance eased down toward the goal, until he could lick the tip of Justin's erection, tasting him like a rare treat.  At Justin's gasp, he took Justin's length in and started a staccato rhythm that heightened his lover's pleasure.  Lance tried to keep Justin on the edge as  long as possible, wanting it to be wonderful for him and it was, as Justin arched his back and uttered Lance's name through clenched teeth, sending spurts of cum into Lance's waiting mouth. After, Justin sank back onto the bed, still breathing hard, a totally satisfied expression telling Lance he had accomplished his goal. When Justin almost immediately rolled to his side, ready to suck Lance, Lance pushed him back and rubbed gently on Justin's chest.  "Let it be about you tonight, baby.  Take for once.  Let's just lie here.  OK?" Justin nodded, but it was hard for him to receive, to not even things out or be on the short end.  Lance ran his hands through Justin's curls and whispered love to him, wanting him to be happy, to enjoy himself. Lance could feel the tension, though, Justin's almost compulsive need to return the gift, to not accept what felt undeserved.  Lance worried that it would be worse if he wouldn't let Justin give, but he knew Justin needed this experience so he continued stroking him until he relaxed.  Lance held him close, like a well-loved child, until they were both half asleep. At ten o'clock, Lance shook Justin, "Wake up, baby, JC will be here soon." Justin curled into Lance tighter, trying to keep out reality, not wanting to pull on his clothes or get in the car or face his parents.  This had been wonderful and he wanted to put it into a glass jar and save it forever. "Jus.  You can stay here if you want," Lance offered.  Justin rolled away then and shook his head. Lance knew the idea of explaining such an idea to his parents was too terrible to contemplate, so he sat up and started dressing as Lance ran his fingers up and down the bones of his spine. Halfway clothed, Justin lay back and sought Lance's mouth, desire coming back in a flood.  Lance laughed and pushed the younger boy up to a sitting position, "Excuse me, JC, would you mind waiting for your brother?  He is busy making out with me, OK?" Justin pouted and finished, pulling his shirt on and kneeling on the floor to find his sneakers.  He sat down and put them on, then jumped onto the bed, straddling Lance.  "Last chance.  Hmmmm?" "Wow, it is really hard to resist that offer but...." he trailed off, giggling. They both heard the horn and Justin jumped off, pulling Lance into an embrace, "I love you, Lance." "I love you, too, baby boy." When the horn sounded again, Justin jumped and ran down the stairs. JC was pissed.  His psychotic father had been giving him hell about joining the choir, describing the group as "a collection of fruits and nuts." His old man had no idea that music was the one thing in the world that JC loved and that he was one of the "fruits" that he hated with such a passion. He hadn't even figured out where his father got the information.  He sure as hell hadn't said anything, but then Paul said something about Lynn saying how sweet it was that the two boys were in choir together.  She could only know that from Justin. As soon as the car door opened, JC spit out, "Do you have to tell your mommy everything?" Justin, still feeling great from his time with Lance, was shocked and flinched at the tone.  "What?  What did I do?" "You can tell her whatever you want about yourself.  Just leave me out of the conversation.  The less they know about what I do, the less shit I get," JC said. Justin just nodded.  He wasn't sure what he had said but he knew that every word from now on would be censored heavily.  "I'm sorry, "he said finally, in that soft voice that JC hated. "Uh-huh," was the only response and they lapsed into silence. Once again any good feelings Justin had, went up in a puff of smoke. Luckily, his parents were out and he could escape to his room, intent on studying, pushing away all of the feelings, good and bad.   JC went to his room as well.  He really was pissed off at the little shit but found it amusing that it took so little to rattle Justin's cage.  He needed to get his plan going.  The desire to hurt Justin, to bring him down, to take what was his, was threatening to spill over, to become obvious where it needed to be undetectable. He picked up the phone and dialed first AJ's and then Kevin's number, arranging to meet them before school to set out his plan to them and enlist their help.  He knew neither of them had any qualms about hurting Justin.  Just the opposite.  They both had expressed a desire to see the all-American boy toppled. That done, he lay back but the need to wound Justin, to prick him with the weapon he had discovered, changed to compulsion.  He threw himself off the bed and ran to Justin's room.  He knocked briefly and opened the door, as if it were an emergency. "What's wrong, JC?" Justin asked, genuine concern on his face. "I...I...don't know if I....should tell you this," he started, the act impossible to detect.  He felt warm inside when he saw Justin pale and tense up. "Tell me," Justin said in a voice so tiny, it was like a child's. "Kevin was in the locker room at gym and he overheard two guys talking about you and Lance." "Who?  What did they say?" It came out as a long breath.  JC could see that the younger boy was trying hard not to shake. "He didn't know and by the time he got dressed they were gone." "But what did they say?" "Just wondering.  How close friends you are.  You know.  Guy shit. Kevin asked me if I knew anything but I said no." He watched Justin swallowing hard, trying to recall when they had been careless.  They weren't even together that much.  "Shit, I knew I shouldn't have told you.  Just forget it, kid.  OK?" "OK." It was all he could say, his throat so tight even that was difficult. Once JC was gone, he turned off the lights, no more homework again tonight.  JC strolled back, savoring the picture of Justin, frightened and ready to run.  Only JC was going to make sure that there was no one to run to but him and that would be Justin's worst mistake. Justin spent another sleepless night and came downstairs only to find that JC had left early.  Another late morning, no chance to see his boyfriend before class for more than a brief second.  Justin thought maybe that was for the best after what JC had told him but he wanted Lance. He quietly tiptoed around his mother, who sat with her coffee, curing her hangover.  He wanted no questions.  He prayed that he would get through the meal with no confrontations.  He watched Paul reading the paper and the picture of his stepfather enraged if he ever found out that Justin was gay popped into his head.  It was too awful– he just had to make sure that didn't happen. He slipped away, hurried his goodbyes and flew out the door.  The bus, at least, provided a few minutes to relax. Lance saw him as he got off the bus and started over.  Justin smiled at the older boy and hurried his own step, until he saw AJ whispering to one of the boys in Justin's class.  The boy looked back and forth between Justin and AJ, suspicion on his face. Justin blushed and headed away from Lance, not even stopping when he heard the older boy call his name.  He got to his class early and threw himself into the seat, cursing himself and Lance and AJ and whoever else came to mind. Lance stared after the retreating Justin, wondering what the hell had just happened.  He felt JC before he heard the laughing voice, "What the fuck was that?" "I don't know.  Everything was fine between us last night.  God, he's just like a girl, all moody and shit," Lance sniped.  JC knew better than to agree so he remained silent and let Lance rant about Justin. JC had to leave for class before Lance had finished describing Justin in unflattering terms. "Listen, JC, don't tell Justin what I just said.  I'm only blowing off steam.  You know I love him, right?" Lance said, running his hands nervously through his hair. "Right, no problem." "Mr.  Timberlake, are you with us?" Justin heard the voice from far away but when the tone became sharp, he bolted back to reality and found himself staring at his math teacher. "Step outside a minute, please." "What's wrong, Justin?" Mr.  Jones asked. The older man looked concerned, not angry and Justin wanted to blurt out all of his problems but he knew where that would go and he just bit his lip and shook his head. "This is the second time in less than a week that you've daydreamed through class and my guess is you didn't turn in any homework.  This isn't like you, Justin.  Want to see Noel?" Noel was the school psychologist, a young man who laughed easily and had a warm heart.  But Justin didn't need math class to add up one and one in this case and come up with telling the parents.  And that was not going to happen. "No, thanks, Mr.  Jones, I can handle this myself." "Well, I hope so.  I know your mother is anxious for you to do well. Now, back in and let's try again." Justin thought perhaps the comment about his mom was an understatement and that she would kick the shit out of him emotionally if she heard about this conversation.  So he forced himself to smile, thank his teacher and pay attention for the rest of the class. He was able to focus until lunch.  It was a struggle but he certainly didn't relish the alternative, his momma's tirade after she got a phone call from the school.  Shit, when had everything started to slide downhill? continue menu