STC 18 Joan had gotten the story out of Justin in halting pieces.  He sat with Lance, leaning into him for the comfort he always found there. By the end, Lance was stroking his curls and hugging him tightly. "You should have seen Mike and Chris fighting," he whispered.  "It was scary." "It's over now, Justin," Joan soothed.  James was on his way and the police were here talking to Chris.  She knew Justin would have to repeat the whole thing for them.  She hated the thought of him going over the humiliation with strangers but she and Lance would be with him and it was a necessary evil if they were going to stop Chris once and for all. Justin looked at Lance, "We're going to miss the talent show, aren't we?" Lance nodded and tears started to fill Justin's eyes, "I'm so sorry." "It's okay.  There'll be others.  And it's not your fault anyhow." Lance said and  hugged his friend to reinforce the message.  The door flew open and banged loudly on the wall.  Nick and Howie barreled into the room, excited faces full of smiles.  Lance frowned in question. "You aren't going to believe this..." Nick said.  Mike's hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Ummm, Mom, I...Pete and I.... I ..." ".....beat up Joey and Kevin," Nick finished proudly. "What?!?!" Joan said. "I'm sorry, Mom," Mike said, "but I was so angry seeing what they did to Justin that I just wanted to beat the ....out of them." "You know how I feel about fighting, Mike," Joan said.  Inside she rejoiced.  The system never seemed to get through to those boys so maybe this unorthodox method would help.  "I know you did it with good intentions, but..." "I know, Mom,"  Mike answered, hearing in her voice that she wasn't really all that angry. "It was so cool, Joan," Howie said.  She scowled then.  She tried to teach the boys that fighting didn't solve anything. There was a knock on the door before the conversation could go any further.  Two policemen entered, further crowding the small office. Mrs.  Peterson, we need to talk to Justin, to get a statement." Justin pushed himself further into Lance, fear evident. "It's ok, Justin, we'll be here.  You have to tell the police what you told us earlier.  OK?" When he shook his head, she said, "They're here to help.  I'll help you if you have trouble." He trusted Joan so he finally nodded weakly, not wanting to relive it again.  Joan turned to the four boys, "Wait for us in the lounge.  We won't be long." Justin told his story again and felt the same humiliation he had felt before.  At the end, the policemen  thanked him and told him he was very brave.  He didn't feel brave.  He felt awful.  Joan's heart broke as she saw another hateful message etched onto his soul.  She sighed, "The policemen have to talk to me right now.  You want to go find Mike?" When they were gone, the policemen asked what she wanted to do about Chris, Kevin, and Joey. She bit her lip.  She knew that underneath all of the layers of meanness, they were the same hurt boys as Justin.  "Is it possible that they could be tried and sentenced to therapy?" "We don't know.  We just arrest." She needed James for this. "Can you wait a few minutes while I consult with my boss?" "We'll go get coffee and be back in 20 minutes or so." By the time they returned, James had gotten in touch with a friend of his in the DA's office and he had agreed to suggest therapy to the judge.  Meanwhile Chris would have to stay in jail and Joey and Kevin at Juvenile Hall.  Joan hated to see them hurting and then taking it out on the little ones.  She said a prayer that this would be their wake-up call. She walked back to her office, feeling the weight of the responsibility for these children, but when she opened the door, it lifted.  The two of them were in there curled together on the sofa, sleeping, peaceful for this moment and maybe that's all anyone could ask. She closed the door softly and went to find Mike and Pete.  They were in the lounge with Nick and Howie.  Mike's reputation had spread like wildfire and he was now the top dog.  As a result, he got to pick the channel.  Several of the young boys had been watching cartoons, happily lying in front of the set.  When Mike walked in with the others, they had scrambled to their feet and backed away to give him access to the tv.  Nick poked him, "This means we get to pick the show." "But they were watching something," Mike said, confused by the younger boys' reaction. "Tough.  You're the boss.  You get to pick," Nick said. "That's the way it is here," Howie added. Mike went over to the younger boys who looked frightened by now, "When does your show end?" They stared at him as if he had spoken Russian and then looked at one another, not trusting that he was serious, "Ten minutes." "OK, finish and then we'll vote on what to watch." Nick frowned and folded his arms.  Mike laughed at the face.  "Not fair?" "We never got to pick the show unless we were the only ones left here at school." Mike leaned over, "Maybe Mom will get permission for you guys to come for the weekend so it's not a total disaster and then you can pick the show.  How's that?" Nick's eyes brightened and he nodded happily, content to let the others have their way this morning. When Joan came in, they were voting on sports or more cartoons and she laughed.  Mike was good with kids and they needed role models like him.  The cartoons won and as everyone settled in comfortably, she motioned to Mike. "How bad was it for him?" she asked. "Oh, Mom, it was horrible.  He looked just like a pretty little girl with that awful sign and they put him out in the hall just in time for a whole team of boys to find him.  When I found him, he was trying to hide his face but they had him tied up so he couldn't move.  His eyes— his eyes were full of shame." She shook her head.  "Poor baby.  Today's his birthday, too.  They picked this day to do that to him.  Well, they're gone for awhile. He'll be safe for now." "Can they come home for tonight?  I sorta promised Nick." "I'll see what I can do," she answered and glowed with pride at his good heart. They did come and they did have a good time and even though Justin was not as happy as you should be at twelve, at least this year he not only had friends but also a big brother to look out for him.  And while Joan couldn't adopt them, they did feel like a family, even if it was only for a weekend. Weeks later, Joey and Kevin came back to St.  Catherine's changed in some way.  All of the boys noticed it and whispered among themselves about what it would mean.  They found out the first time the two boys ran into Justin in the hall.  He stopped and prepared to run.  "Justin, wait, come here." He did, not because he wanted to, but because they could outrun him and when they caught him, things would be even worse.  His lip trembled and he bit it hard, to stop it, and to fight the tears that were already threatening.  "What?" He tried to sound defiant but he just couldn't pull it off. It came out sounding like a plea instead. "We're sorry." Joey apparently was the spokesman.  Justin stared at them.  "Did you hear me? We're sorry." Justin's mouth was working but no sound came out.  Joey waved his hand back and forth in front of the dazed child's face, "Helloooo, earth to Justin?" Justin swallowed and cleared his throat, "Okay." What was he supposed to say.  Any other time they would have given him the words.  "Thanks." Then they were gone.  No taunts, no slaps, no hurt at all.  Just sorry.  When he told the others, they thought that maybe this was a trick or a trap or what?  What could it be?  It never occurred to any of them that they were really sorry. But they were and the reason was Mike's simple question, "Why?" They had thought about why over the next few days and they couldn't come up with any good reason.  They didn't even dislike Justin.  They came to the conclusion that they had mindlessly followed Chris down some twisted path and that they didn't truly want to be like that. They agreed to therapy and according to Noel, they were making progress.  The apology was one of the first steps they had made.  It took weeks for the boys to accept that they were not the people they had been before. Interestingly enough, no one stepped in to the bully role.  A few of the boys who had shown leadership qualities stepped into the vacuum. Peace seemed to exist here for the first time. Life became easier.  He didn't even look around  anymore.  He had friends like Nick and Howie and friends like the guys on the swim team and in his class.  And then there was Lance.  Lance wasn't just his friend.  Lance meant more to him than anybody in the world. Lance was there to share his joyful moments, his achievements, his triumphs.  But Lance was also there to comfort the hurt feelings, ease the failures, and tell him the voice that told him he was worthless all the time was a liar. Justin adored Lance.  It wasn't hard.  Lance was sweet and kind, an odd sense of humor that people enjoyed.  He sang with this deep bass voice that sounded wonderful to Justin, a terrific contrast to his own high, childlike sound.  Justin would do almost anything for Lance. Almost— sex was not on the list.  Justin nearly had himself convinced that Lance didn't care about sex since he never talked about it and frankly, it seemed like that was all Nick and Howie wanted to talk about and it got kind of annoying. They had signed up for another talent show and they practiced the same song and this time, they were able to go and bring back a second place statue for the dusty display case in the lobby.  Lance talked to Justin about the future and it was always music until Justin asked what would happen if they didn't get "discovered" or "promoted"? Lance sulked for a while after that but after a million apologies from Justin and a promise to follow him to the ends of the earth to pursue this dream, Lance relented and granted his friendship again. Life was nearly normal.  Noel said that normal was a setting on the washing machine, but it didn't stop them from wanting what other children had—  parents who loved them unconditionally, freedom to play and grow without fear, and whatever else normal children had. So whatever they had here, right now, for just this moment was okay. And time passed and without the crises that used to mark its passage for them, the hours flowed into days and then into months and then it was a whole year. It was Justin's birthday again.  This year he knew exactly what he wanted but he was nervous about asking for it.  He didn't think he could stand it if Lance said no.  He looked over at the other bed where Lance had crawled in early this morning.  He hated that Lance had to leave but he knew they would be punished if the monitors found them together.  He sighed and got up to go to the shower, their routine unchanged now since he was eleven.  He would wake Lance when he got back, shaking him gently. Lately when he knelt next to Lance's bed, he experienced all kinds of powerful physical sensations, the kind that made you want to touch, to caress, to be touched.  He wasn't surprised. Howie told him that's how he felt whenever he was near Nick. In the shower, Justin shook himself and looked around to see if any of the other boys were watching, noticing the erection that had come when he thought of Lance.  He sighed in relief that no one was and he jerked himself off quickly, a habit most of them had.  He had wrestled with it at first but when the devil didn't threaten to bring him to hell, he relaxed into it, enjoying the release of tension. Now though, he connected it to Lance, Lance touching him, stroking him, caressing him until he ... Oh no, Justin, shower is over, he told himself and dried in a hurry, hoping to outrace his own body. Seeing Lance, his face soft, his hair mussed from sleep, the race was over and he struggled to get dressed before waking up his sleeping friend.  He called to Lance more harshly than he intended, fighting the urge to throw himself on the other boy.  "Lance, get up.  C'mon." Lance rolled over, surprised at Justin's tone, but he was still too sleepy to make much of it.  "Okay, okay, baby boy, I'm up." "And I'm not a `baby boy'," Justin said, a pout clear. "Jeez, what's with you this morning?" Lance started to leave and stopped short, "Oh, is that it?" "Is that what?" Justin asked nervously. "Did you think I forgot your birthday?  `Cause I didn't.  Happy birthday, Justin." Justin relaxed, "Yeah, thanks." Lance leaned on the door, yawning, "So what do you want?" Not now, Justin.  "Umm," he replied, "I want to get to Mass on time. Get moving." It was said with a smile. They weren't late and the day went smoothly enough, considering Justin was ready to explode with his need to talk to Lance, to ask. Howie and Nick teased him about finally being a teenager and that now he could enjoy the benefits.  It was a joke since there were no benefits to it at St.  Catherine's.  Just another number. Joan had stopped by to give him a birthday kiss and cocked her head, noticing the tension in his body.  "What's up, swee...kiddo?" she asked.  She couldn't call him sweetie any more.  He was a big boy, she had been told. "Nothing," he muttered.  It was so hard to keep secrets from Joan. She always seemed to sniff them out.  This time was no different. She stared hard at Justin, daring him to deny that anything was wrong.  He sighed. Suddenly she knew what it was.  "It's ok, Justin, you don't have to talk about it.  Just remember I'm always here to listen." He nodded and smiled, "Thanks, Joan.  I'll remember." Lance walked in then and saw the look that passed between Justin and Joan.  He frowned, hating being left out.  He looked from one to the other, "What's up?" "Nothing," they answered together and laughed. It was much later that Lance found out.  They were lying in bed, lights out, whispering.  "So, J, what did you really want for your birthday?" "Can I get in bed with you?" Justin asked shyly. "You get that every night," Lance giggled, then added, "Of course." Lance backed up to make room.  Justin climbed in, facing Lance.  In the dark, Lance sensed Justin's nervousness.  "What's really up, J? You've been weird all day." He tried to see Justin's face but he could only make out a vague silhouette. Justin rolled onto his back and stared up, breathing slowly, trying to work up his courage.  "Lance?" "Yeah?" Lance was sure this was going to be a slow process. "Do you remember when Joan told us last year that we couldn't kiss and touch?" "Uh-huh." God, did he remember it.  Cold showers and jerking off and trying not to picture Justin the way he wanted to picture Justin until he was finally able to be in bed with Justin without the desire overwhelming him. They hadn't talked about it after that, Lance letting Justin take the lead.  Justin never seemed to miss the few kisses and touches they had shared and always relaxed easily into Lance's body.  Lance finally gave up looking for signals a few months ago, disappointed that Justin still wasn't interested. Nick and Howie had experimented and found lots of enjoyable activities which they were happy to share information about.  They were becoming quite the resident experts and Lance was having a hard time controlling his envy.  Justin still had that wide-eyed look when they described in graphic detail most of what they did and Lance could almost see God making his appearance, shaking his finger at Justin. "Are you listening?" Justin asked, annoyance in his voice. "Sorry, J, what did you say?" "I said I don't think about the devil any more." He was hoping Lance would get it without his having to ask. What the hell does that mean, Lance thought, but said, "That's good." Justin sighed, "Even when I ....I ...touch...myself." Lance was starting to really pay attention but he remained silent.  Another sigh.  "When I touch myself......" a very long pause, " I ...think ... of ...you." He felt himself blushing in the dark. "Shit," Lance said, the word coming out as a long breath. Justin tensed at the word, "Are you angry?" "No, J, I'm not angry.  Not at all," he said softly.  He wanted to stroke Justin's curls but he was afraid to move, afraid he would scare Justin, like a deer in the woods. "So you want to know what I want for my birthday?" Lance nodded in the dark, holding his breath.  Justin couldn't see him but he took the silence as a yes.  "I want you to kiss me and touch me like before," he said and waited, praying that Lance would say yes. Lance let out his breath slowly, hardly daring to believe what Justin had said.  "Please, Lance?" Lance didn't speak.  He simply turned Justin's face to his and kissed him, so softly at first, it was barely a touch.  Justin sighed into the kiss.  No devils, no parents, just Lance, beautiful Lance. Justin leaned into the kiss and parted his lips.  Lance's tongue entered gently, exploring with care, meeting Justin's tongue and testing, a sweet duel.  When Lance ran his tongue over Justin's lips, the boy shuddered with pleasure.  It was all he remembered and more. It wasn't scary. They kissed for a long time, their hands stroking hair and cheeks, not daring to go further, afraid to break the spell.  But the need grew and they found their hands wandering, sliding down warm skin under the pajama tops.  Justin's breath caught when Lance rubbed his nipple, bringing it to erection and he found Lance's, imitating the motion.  Lance sighed happily.  Hands descended once again.  Lance stroked Justin's thigh through the thin cotton, hearing the pleasure in his sighs.  Lance's arm brushed Justin's erect penis and Lance pulled back in surprise.  Justin giggled.  "I told you I wasn't a baby boy, didn't I?" Justin pulled Lance's hand to his crotch, giving permission for what Lance had waited for for so long.  Lance reached for the waistband of Justin's pajamas.  "Yes?" "Yes," Justin whispered and then, as if magically, they were naked and skin touched skin.  Lance fought for control when Justin touched him, stroking up and down the shaft, knowing what felt good, and wanting it to be good for Lance.  Lance did the same, creating a rhythm that Justin followed.  It was over too soon.  They both reached orgasm, one after the other, backs arching, low guttural cries of release that ended in satisfied pants.  They collapsed in each other's arms, sticky messes but happy and satisfied. It was lucky that it was Pete who found them, curled up in a tangle of arms and legs.  He shook his head.  He had to get them dressed at least.  So they did get dressed, foolish smiles on both of their faces and in the morning, there were no regrets and they said separate prayers of thanks. continue menu