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Message-ID: <57939asstr$1216559401@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Gymnopedies" <gym@SoftHome.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} My Girlfriend's Brother (4/6) (m/t)
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Date: Sun, 20 Jul 2008 09:10:01 -0400
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Copyright of this story is retained by the author and it should not be
reposted to any newsgroup or website without permission. Any form of
commercial use is strictly prohibited without the express permission of
the author. The author can be contacted at gym@softhome.net

The usual disclaimers apply: don't read if you are prohibited by
location, are under legal age, or if you are likely to be offended by
explicit descriptions of gay sex. The story is pure fiction and is not
based on any actual events.


My Girlfriend's Brother - Chapter 4 (of 6)
by
Gymnopedies


When I'd told Jez that it would be OK for him to call round sometimes,
I hadn't expected him to visit my apartment every single day. However,
that's what happened. Every day, I would arrive home from work to find
him waiting on my doorstep. His eagerness to spend time with me was a
little disturbing, and there was always that nagging memory of Dino's
suggestion that Jez had a crush on me. A couple of times, I almost
suggested to him that maybe it would be better if he didn't come round
quite so often, but when it came down to it, I couldn't bring myself to
say anything that might upset him. Besides, if I were being honest with
myself, I liked having him around. We'd talk, and he'd tell me about
his day at school and then listen attentively while I told him about
anything that had happened to me at work. If I'd had a bad day, he
would listen sympathetically and then make some joke which would
immediately lighten my mood. If I wasn't in the mood to talk or there
was anything that I needed to get on with, he'd sit quietly at the
kitchen table doing some school-work. Then I'd prepare something to eat
and we'd eat together; he always ate as though he were ravenous and I
was constantly amazed that anyone with such a slight build could put
away so much food. On one occasion I joked about him not being fed at
home, and he immediately looked uncomfortable. It was obvious that Jez
wasn't happy at home; I knew he didn't get on with Emma, but it seemed
to go far deeper than that. However, any time I tried to bring up the
subject of his home life, he clammed up and made it clear that he
didn't want to discuss it. Each evening, I'd drive him home, and he
always insisted that I drop him off at the end of his street in order
that his mother and sister didn't find out he'd been with me. He also
begged me not to tell Emma anything about his visits to my apartment.
I couldn't see the reason for all of this secrecy, but if that's what
he wanted, I didn't see any harm in going along with it.

On Friday evening, Jez was there on the doorstep, waiting for me, as
usual. I reminded him that I had a date with Emma tonight, so this
would have to be a short visit. He gave me a disappointed frown and I
responded with a warning look.

"Sorry," Jez muttered. He didn't look sorry, but he did look chastened,
and he let the subject drop. Every time Emma's name was mentioned there
was the same unmistakeable tension in the air. Jez's dislike of his
sister caused him to make frequent derogatory comments about her, and
he had even hinted on several occasions that she didn't feel anything
for me. He claimed that she would lose interest in me as soon as a
better prospect came along. But even though I couldn't deny the truth
of some of the things he said about her, she was still my girlfriend,
and I always rose automatically to her defence.

Up in the apartment, I told Jez that I was going to get myself a shower
and that he would have to entertain himself for a few minutes. He
shrugged and wandered into the lounge, saying he would watch TV. I left
him to it and went into my bedroom where I quickly stripped off and,
wrapping a towel around my waist, I headed for the bathroom.

 I was really looking forwards to tonight. Since it was the weekend it
meant that there was no curfew, and so I didn't have to have Emma back
home early. The two of us were going out to a club, and then it would
be back here for some hot sex. I hadn't seen Emma since the previous
Monday, and we hadn't had sex since Saturday. A quick wank is fine, but
it doesn't compare with the real thing. I felt my cock start to harden
as I imagined us on my bed, screwing the night away. Tonight was going
to be so good.

The hot shower felt great: really relaxing after a hard day. I soaped
the front of my body, paying particular attention to my groin and, in
the process, stroking myself to a full erection. Pulling my hand away
from my rock-hard, twitching cock took a big effort; I knew that if I
were to jack off now, it wouldn't be quite so good later, so I was
determined to save myself. Forcing myself to ignore my aching boner, I
reached for the shampoo, massaging it into my hair to form a rich,
soapy lather, and then dipping my head under the spray to rinse it away.

"Liam..."

"Jez? What do you want?" I demanded, trying to open my eyes and getting
soap in them. Jez was standing in the bathroom doorway, his eyes wide
as he stared at me. I suddenly realised that he was staring at my
exposed erection, and I quickly put my hand down to cover myself. "What
did you want, Jez?" I asked again.

"Oh, yeah," he shook himself and he grinned at me shyly. "Your mobile's
ringing. I thought you might want to know."

I listened carefully and, over the splash of the water from the shower,
I could just make out the trilling ring of my mobile phone. "Oh, erm,
thanks. Go get it for me, will you?"

As Jez went to fetch me the phone, I hurriedly rinsed the soap from my
eyes and reached for a towel. The call probably wouldn't be important
and I would be able to ring them back later anyway, but sending Jez for
the phone meant that I could get rid of him for long enough to cover
myself up. I'm not normally all that inhibited when it comes to my
body, but given my suspicions about the way Jez felt about me, standing
in front of him with a raging boner was perhaps not such a good idea.

The ringing had in fact stopped by the time Jez returned. Holding the
towel in place with one hand, I accepted the phone from him, thumbing
the buttons to find out who had been calling. It had been Emma. I
immediately pressed a button to call her back.

"Hiya gorgeous. What's up?" I said into the phone, ignoring the
disapproving scowl on Jez's face.

"Hi, Lee," Emma responded. She was using her "sweet little girl" voice.
I was immediately on guard as this could only mean that she wanted
something.

It turned out that she did want something: she wanted to cancel our
date. One of her girlfriends had just broken up with her boyfriend, and
Emma and some other friends were going to take the girl out somewhere
to try and cheer her up. I suggested to Emma that I could do with a bit
of cheering up myself, but she didn't take the hint, and nothing else I
said seemed to make any difference. Emma told me not to be so selfish
and that she would see me tomorrow, and that was the end of the matter.
I turned off the phone, feeling both disappointed and annoyed.

Jez looked at me, and I half hoped that he might gloat at the situation
so as to give me an excuse to lash out at someone, but he simply shook
his head sadly and took back the phone as I held it out to him. He left
me alone and, resignedly, I began to towel myself dry.

By the time I'd dried myself off and pulled on some clothes, I had
decided that I may as well make the best of the situation. I suggested
to Jez that we go out and rent a movie, get ourselves a takeaway, and
spend the evening in front of the TV. Jez, of course, was delighted
with the idea.

The sudden change to my plans for the evening had been disappointing,
especially as it meant that I'd now have to wait another day before
indulging in the sexual frenzy which I had so eagerly been
anticipating. However, sex aside, a "guys' night in" with Jez wasn't
really such a bad substitute. Jez didn't require the constant attention
and flattery that Emma always demanded: Emma had to be the centre of
attention, whereas Jez was much more easy-going. And with Jez, I didn't
have to watch what I said all the time. In fact, I realised, in a lot
of ways I much preferred the boy's company to his sister's. It was just
a shame that Jez wasn't a girl.

Not that Jez and I agreed on everything. In the rental store, we argued
about what sort of movie to rent; I wanted an action movie, he wanted
some sort of psychological horror thing. We compromised by getting one
of each. Then, when it came to the take away, I wanted Indian, while he
wanted a pizza. In the end we both settled on Chinese. I discovered
that even disagreeing with Jez was fun; our arguments were really just
light-hearted banter, far removed from the tense, fiery fights that I
constantly seemed to be involved in with Emma.

Back at the apartment, I took two cans of beer from the fridge, found
us some forks, pulled the curtains, and we sat down together on the
couch to watch the first of the movies, eating the takeaway directly
from the foil cartons.

The action movie was pretty bad, but we stuck it out to the bitter end,
giving numerous groans and giggles along the way. As the final credits
rolled, Jez couldn't resist a dig about how bad my choice had been.

"Alright, so I have shit taste in movies," I laughed. "I bet yours
isn't much better."

"I bet it is."

"Bet it isn't."

He elbowed me playfully in the ribs and I gave him a push in return,
sending him sprawling onto his side, laughing.

"You take this stuff into the kitchen, out of the way," I said
indicating the piled up foil cartons, which were all that remained of
our meal. "I'll swap the movies over."

Still laughing, Jez gathered up the trash and headed for the kitchen.

"Bring a couple more cans back with you," I called after him, and then
bent down to change the disks in the DVD player.

I felt strangely happy. It couldn't be the effects of the alcohol,
since we'd only had one can each. And it could hardly have been the
crap movie.

"What's the matter?" Jez asked, grinning, as he came back from the
kitchen.

"What do you mean?"

"You're looking at me funny."

"Well, you are sort of strange-looking," I replied.

Jez contorted his face into a weird expression, crossing his eyes, but
could only hold it for a second before he burst out laughing again. He
handed me one of the cans and we settled down to watch the second movie.

This second movie was bloody scary. OK, so I'm a wimp when it comes to
anything like that, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. Though in this
case it looked like Jez was almost as scared as me. He was sitting
pulled in on himself, one hand up to his mouth as he nervously chewed
on the side of one of his fingers. The side of his leg was pressed up
against my own and he was leaning towards me as if seeking the security
of physical contact with someone else. I resisted a sudden, irrational
urge to put my arm around his shoulders. On the screen a teenaged girl
was wandering around inside a dark house - why do they always do that?
I mean, two of her friends had already been horribly murdered by some
insane, knife-wielding maniac in that very same house, and there she
was wandering around in the dark. What sane person would do a thing
like that? I wanted to scream "for God's sake, you stupid bitch, get
the hell out of there", but instead I watched in silence, my heart
pounding and my nerves at breaking point. The girl entered another room
and her hand fumbled for the light switch - at last she was doing
something sensible, she was going to turn on the light. Suddenly a hand
flew out, bony fingers wrapping vice-like around her wrist. She
screamed. I gave a scream of my own and almost pissed myself as a hand
clamped down hard on my thigh.

"Jez! What the hell...? You scared the shit out of me," I breathed. I
put my hand to my chest to ensure that my heart hadn't packed up from
the shock.

Jez was giggling almost hysterically. He let go of my thigh, his hand
going to his mouth to try to hide his laughter. "Sorry," he managed to
get out. "That was so funny."

"I'll show you funny," I replied, throwing myself on top of him. Jez
gave a squeal and struggled to escape, but I was bigger and stronger
than he was. As we wrestled, he managed to roll from the couch to the
floor, but, before he could get up, I was on him again. His arms went
around my neck, squeezing, but his grip loosened as my hand found his
ribs and I began tickling him. We were both laughing and panting from
our exertions. Eventually I managed to get a hold of his wrists and I
pressed them to the floor above his head. He was flat on his back and I
was lying full length on top of him. Our faces were just inches apart.
As we looked into each other's eyes, the laughter suddenly died away.
Jez licked his lips, his tongue flicking out nervously. I looked down
at him. He was so like Emma, yet at the same time he was so different.
When I looked into Emma's eyes I was always left wondering what was going
on in her head. With Jez there was nothing hidden, and what I saw there
scared me. Jez's breathing was slow and ragged. He licked his lips
again and raised his head towards my own. I lowered my own head towards
him.

What the hell was I doing?

I pulled back in horror and forced myself to my feet and turned away.
I'd been about to kiss a fifteen-year-old boy. What the hell was the
matter with me? Was I really so horny that I'd stoop to something like
that?

"Liam?" Jez had also got to his feet and was standing behind me. He
voice sounded small and frightened.

I turned back to face him, trying to get myself under control. "I think
I'd better take you home," I said, forcing a smile.

"But..."

"It is getting late," I interrupted him. "And I'm feeling tired, and I
do have to work tomorrow."

"I could stay here tonight," Jez suggested.

"Maybe not such a good idea," I said. "Let's get you home."

**********

I lay for ages, unable to sleep, turning onto one side and then onto
the other in an effort to get comfortable. Even though it wasn't an
especially warm night, I found myself sweating and I occasionally
wafted the bedclothes to try to get some air to my body. Irritably, I
thumped my pillow, trying to pound it into a shape that would give me
more support and let me sleep. But unfortunately it wasn't the pillow
that was the problem.

Each time I closed my eyes I could see Jez's face, looking at me, hurt
in his eyes.

The boy hadn't said a word all the way home. We'd travelled in silence,
and after our earlier light-hearted banter, this lack of communication
felt unnatural, uncomfortable, even oppressive. Jez didn't even speak
to tell me to drop him at the end of the street, and so I took him all
the way up to his gate. Wordlessly, he climbed out of the car. Just
before he closed the door he looked back inside. "I'm sorry, Liam," he
said, the words hardly audible. Then he was gone.

"Jez..." I'd called after him, but then realised that I'd purposely
spoken too softly for him to hear. I'd sat and watched his silhouette
walk up the path and disappear into his house before pulling away and
driving home.

I was angry. I was angry with Emma for cancelling our date; if it
hadn't been for her I wouldn't have spent the evening with Jez. I was
angry with Jez for his apparent dependence on me; he seemed to be there
every time I turned around. But most of all, I was angry with myself.
Dino had warned me that Jez had a crush on me, and I'd not done
anything about it. Why had I let Jez continue to come round every day?
Was it vanity? Did I feel flattered because he had these feelings for
me? No, I knew it wasn't anything like that. I let him keep coming
round because I cared about him. He was a lonely kid who had needed
someone, and that someone had turned out to be me. Besides, that was
not the issue. The problem wasn't Jez's feelings for me, it was my
feelings for Jez. Tonight I'd almost kissed him. How perverted was
that? I'd been about to kiss a fifteen-year-old boy.

I made up my mind there and then that things could not go on as they
were. I'd have to talk to Jez and tell him that he couldn't come round
so often. In fact, it would probably be best if he stayed away
altogether. Jez wouldn't like it, of course, but he'd have to get used
to the idea. His infatuation with me wasn't healthy, and my own
feelings towards him were even worse.

My mind made up, I felt a little better, and I slowly drifted off into
an uneasy sleep.

**********

Emma lay looking at me, her face just inches away from my own. The
corners of her mouth twitched in what could have been a smile, but
could just have easily have been a sneer. "So, are we going to fuck?"
she asked. "Or do you prefer boys now?" When I didn't answer, she
flipped the bedclothes back from the bed leaving us both naked. She ran
her hands down over her body, her mouth open and her tongue running
over her lips. "You want this, Lee? Come on, fuck me."

I tried to answer her, but though my lips were moving, no sound would
come out. I tried to reach for her, but my arms wouldn't move.

"Not much of a man, are you, Lee?" she sneered. Her painted fingernails
were like red daggers and she ran one of them down my chest, and down
over my stomach, then drew it slowly along my limp cock.

I willed myself to respond, feeling that I should become aroused by her
touch, wanting to become aroused, but nothing was happening.

"I always knew you were worthless, Lee," she said, coldly.

Then her face softened. The hardness around her mouth gradually
disappeared. Her expression became caring. And it wasn't Emma there
anymore, it was Jez. I let my eyes travel down his naked body, seeing
how Emma's soft curves had been replaced by Jez's thin, almost angular
form.

"I love you, Liam," the boy said.

"No," I replied, finding my voice at last. "No, you can't."

"I do. I love you much more than Emma ever will."

"It's no good, Jez. I'm not gay. I love Emma."

"You don't really," he said. "You keep telling yourself that you love
Emma, but really you love me." His hand was on my chest, travelling
down my body, following the same path that Emma's fingers had taken
just moments earlier. Then his fingers were around my cock and I was
hardening under his touch. "You see, Liam," he smiled. "I told you it
was me that you loved." He bent and took my swollen cock into his mouth.

"Don't, Jez," I begged. But I did nothing to stop him.

Then everything changed. One moment I'd been lying on my back, the next
I was on my knees, even though I hadn't moved. Jez was on all fours in
front of me. He raised his head and looked around at me, a grin on his
face. "Do it," he said.

I knew what he meant, what he wanted. Slowly I pushed forwards, my
erection sliding smoothly into his arse.

As I entered Jez, a soft sigh escaped his lips. "I love you, Liam," he
gasped.

"I'm only doing this because you asked me too," I told him. "I'm not
gay. I love Emma."

"If you say so, Liam," he smiled.

I thrust forwards, feeling the tightness of his hole around my cock. It
was wonderful. I pulled back and thrust forwards again. Again. Again.
It felt good. "I'm not gay," I said, between clenched teeth. "I'm not
gay," I repeated with each thrust. "I'm not gay," I  moaned, even as my
whole body shook in the throes of orgasm.

Jez again turned to look at me, the soft smile still on his face.
Unwillingly I bent forwards towards him and we kissed lightly, our lips
touching. "If you say so," he said.

**********


I awoke with a start. I was covered with sweat. As I rolled onto my
back I felt something wet against one of my legs. With a groan of self-
disgust, I realised what had happened. I climbed out of bed and pulled
back the bed clothes to reveal a wet patch in the vicinity of where my
groin had been. I'd had what was commonly referred to as a "wet dream".
I'd thought this was something that only happened to sex-starved,
pubescent teenagers. What the hell was happening to me?

The clock on my bedside table said it was just after 6.00 a.m. A bit
early for getting up on a Saturday morning, but I didn't feel like
trying to sleep again, and besides, these sheets needed taking off. I
often wear shorts to bed, which would have limited the damage, but last
night I'd been so warm and uncomfortable that I'd kicked off the shorts
and slept naked.

Still naked, I bundled up the sheets and padded through to the kitchen,
where I pushed them into the washing machine and set it going. Then,
bedclothes taken care of, it was time for a bit of personal cleansing.
In the bathroom, I turned on the cold water tap and stepped under the
shower, gasping as the icy water splashed down over my body. I forced
myself to stand under the water for several minutes as if to try and
wash away my guilty feelings, then gave in and turned on the hot tap. I
gave myself a quick, but thorough soaping and rinsed off before
wrapping a towel around my waist and going in search of coffee.

As I sat drinking the coffee, I deliberately avoided thinking about my
dream, hoping that it would quickly fade into a fuzzy haziness, as was
usually the case with dreams. However, there was no avoiding the fact
that I was going to have to do something about Jez. No doubt the boy
would be round later, and I was going to have to break the bad news to
him. I certainly wasn't looking forward to it.

**********

There was no sign of Jez that morning. After I'd had some lunch I went
to work, partly relieved that the boy hadn't appeared, but at the same
time feeling a little disappointed and even a little hurt. I wondered
if maybe Jez had decided that since I wasn't going to let anything
happen between us, it wasn't worth his time coming round anymore. Oh
well, if that's all our friendship meant to him then perhaps it was
better if he did stay away. Work was unusually hectic, which was a
blessing, as it kept my mind off my personal life. Though amidst the
hustle and bustle, I did find time to give Emma a quick call and
confirm that we were still on for tonight.

It was just gone eight when I collected Emma. She looked, if anything,
even more stunning than usual, and the top she was wearing left nothing
at all to the imagination. Just the sight of her dispelled any doubts I
might have had about my sexuality.

"Close your mouth, you're drooling," she giggled. She knew the effect
she had on me. She had the same effect on almost every guy who saw her,
and she always took full advantage of it.

"I hope I'm going to get to sample these goods you've got on display,"
I told her, softly, as I nuzzled at her ear.

"That depends whether you're a good boy," she laughed.

"Oh, I promise to be very good," I told her. "Very, very good." I
stroked my hand over her arse, squeezing one of the cheeks.

"Pervert," she grinned, pushing me away. "Save that for later."

We got into the car and set off for a bar where we'd arranged to meet
some friends. We'd spend a couple of hours there and then go on to a
club. After that, the two of us would go back to my place and the fun
would really start.

"Is Jez OK," I asked, dropping the question casually into the
conversation as we drove.

She looked at me strangely for a moment. "Why are you always so
interested in my brother?" she asked, pulling a face.

"I just wondered," I said. "He's normally around when I pick you up,
but today there was no sign of him."

She shrugged. "The little perv was up in his room. He was probably busy
looking at his dirty pictures and jerking off."

I tried to ignore the sudden feeling of deep hurt. Jez must have known
I was there; he would have heard the doorbell and must have been able
to hear me and Emma talking at the bottom of the stairs. Yet he hadn't
put in even a brief appearance. This seemed to confirm my earlier
suspicions: he wasn't interested in me anymore. Oh well, if that's the
way he felt, then why I should I bother? It's not as if he meant
anything to me anyway; he'd been more of a nuisance than anything else.
It was time I forgot about him and got on with my life.

Time seemed to drag in the bar. The people we were with were much more
Emma's friends than they were mine, and I felt pretty much like an
outsider in most of the conversations. I was relieved when it was time
to move on to the club. We'd be with the same group of friends, but at
least the noise there would mean I wouldn't have to worry about having
to talk to them.

It was coming up to midnight when I suggested to Emma that we call it a
night and head back to my apartment. She looked like she was about to
argue, but then changed her mind and agreed. Once we were alone in the
car I decided to mention something that I'd been thinking about for
most of the evening.

"I want you to move in with me," I said.

There was open surprise on Emma's face. Then she laughed. "You're
kidding? You mean me move into your apartment?"

"Yeah. What's so funny about that? You keep telling me that you love
me, and I definitely love you. Let's do it."

She stopped laughing, and now looked uncertain "I don't know," she said.

"You are serious about us aren't you? You keep telling me you are."

"Of course I'm serious. It just, well, moving in together is such a big
step."

"It is when you refuse to even spend the night with me," I said,
allowing some of my annoyance to show through.

She was silent a moment, as if thinking this over, and then she nodded.
"Alright," she said. "I'll move in with you. But not until after my
eighteenth birthday."

"Why should that make a difference?"

She leaned against my arm and reached up and stroked my face. "That
will make it more special. It's not long; just one more week. Surely
you can wait that long."

She was right, it wasn't long to wait. Her eighteenth birthday was only
eight days away. "Yeah, I can wait that long," I said, giving her a
smile.

"Good." She gave a sexy pout as she continued to stroke her fingers
lightly over my lips. "And while we're on the subject of my birthday, I
hope you haven't forgotten about my present."

"How could I forget?" I asked. "You remind me every single time I see
you. You realise that if I spend that sort of money, we're going to
have to live on bread and water for month?" Emma had set her heart on a
pair of diamond ear studs. These were expensive enough to hurt, even on
my salary, and I was sure she'd picked them simply because of their
price and not because she really liked them so much.

"Oh, Lee," she purred, "don't you think I'm worth it?" Her finger
traced its way down the front of my shirt to my groin. I felt her
fumble for a moment with my trousers and then my zip was pulled down
and she was reaching inside for my hardening cock.

"I wish you wouldn't do that while I'm driving," I sighed. "Alright,
you're worth it. You're worth every penny. Now stop that until we get
back to my place or we're going to end up crashing into something."

She giggled, but she didn't let go of my cock, keeping her fingers
wrapped tightly around the hard shaft. It was with great relief that I
finally pulled the car to a stop in my parking space.

"Right, let's get upstairs," I told her. "I'm going to show you what
happens to little girls who can't behave themselves in moving cars."

She gave my cock a final squeeze, causing me to gasp. "It's me who is
going to be doing the showing," she giggled. "Tonight I'm going to wear
you out."

**********

I was late getting out of bed on Sunday morning. Emma had tried to
fulfil her threat to "wear me out", and I'd responded with a vigour and
enthusiasm that had surprised even her. It was by far the hottest
session we'd ever had, and any lingering doubts about my sexuality that
may have been nestling in the back of my mind were now well and truly
dispelled. The only fly in the ointment had been Emma's insistence that
I drive her home afterwards. I'd argued that since she would be moving
in permanently in a week's time, spending the night with me would
hardly hurt, but she refused to budge. One more week and I would no
longer have to turn out in the middle of the night to take her home. I
could hardly wait.

As I sat at the kitchen table in just my shorts, drinking my second cup
of coffee, I glanced at the clock. It was almost eleven. I really ought
to think about getting some clothes on and having a quick clean around
before lunch. I'd decided that the cleaning could wait for a few more
minutes, when I was disturbed by the door buzzer.

Wearily, I moved to the door and pressed the intercom button. "Who is
it?"

"It's me, Jez."

Shit! Hearing his voice instantly brought back all of those mixed
emotions I thought I'd managed to lock away. I remembered that I had
resolved to tell him not to come around so often, but the chances were
that any such confrontation would be emotional, and I didn't feel up to
it this morning. "Jez, it's, erm, not really convenient just at the
moment. I'm a bit busy."

"Liam... please... I need to see you." His voice was slightly distorted
by the electronics of the cheap and nasty intercom unit, but even with
the distortion, it was obvious that he was close to tears.

I sighed to myself. The easiest thing would be to just send him on his
way, but I couldn't bring myself to do that; I couldn't make myself
hurt him.

"Come on up," I said, pressing the button to release the lock on the
front door.

I took the latch off my apartment door and returned to the kitchen and
to my coffee. If I were going to have an emotional confrontation, I
wanted plenty of caffeine inside me first.

However, one glance at Jez standing in the kitchen doorway was enough
to cause me to forget my coffee altogether.

"Jesus, Jez. What the hell happened?"

He looked at me and tried to smile. One side of his mouth was dark and
swollen as though he'd been punched. One eye was similarly swollen,
with a large dark bruise underneath it, and there was a long graze-like
scratch on his neck.

As I took a step towards the boy I saw that his eyes were filled with
tears and his lips started to tremble. Automatically, I opened my arms
and a moment later he was in them, his face pressed against my bare
chest as he sobbed uncontrollably.

"Oh, Jez, what's happened to you?" I asked, softly. I stroked the back
of his head and then moved my arms lower to give him a comforting hug.

As my arms tightened, he gave a gasp of pain and I immediately let go
of him. Pushing him back slightly, I lifted his shirt. He watched me,
wordlessly, his eyes never leaving mine. A large, dark, purple bruise
marred the pale skin on one side of his chest.

"Oh, Jez," I said again. Once more putting my arms around him but being
careful not put any pressure on his bruised ribs.

I held him until the tears stopped, by which time I was starting to
feel a bit uncomfortable. I'd given in to the impulse to comfort the
boy without conscious thought, and it now felt a little strange,
standing here with my arms around another guy, even if he was only
fifteen. It was a relief to be able to break the contact and sit him
down. I poured him a glass of juice and then took the seat opposite him.

"Alright, what happened to you?" I asked, my voice soft, but at the
same time insistent enough to make it clear that I wasn't going to be
easily fobbed off.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said, looking down at his glass.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Jez, someone has beaten the crap out of you.
You can't just pretend it didn't happen. I want to know who did this to
you."

"Why? You want to go beat them up?" He looked at me sadly.

"No, of course I don't. But you should go to the police..."

"No cops!" His sad gaze turned into a hard glare.

"OK, no cops. But I still want to know what happened."

He shook his head. "I told you, I don't want to talk about it."

I was at a loss. What was I supposed to do now? "Let me get some
clothes on, and I'll take you home," I told him getting up from the
table.

"No!" He jumped up and then gave a gasp of pain, his bruised ribs
protesting against the sudden movement.

I stopped, and putting my hand out to him, I gently pressed him back
down into his seat and stood looking at him. "I know you don't get on
well with your family, a lot kids your age don't, but you can't hide
something like this from your mother; she has to know."

"She already knows," he said, quietly, not looking at me.

"She does?" Now I was feeling a little silly. I'd been all ready to
leap into action and try and sort things out for him and it now
appeared that everything had already been taken care of. "When did it
happen?" I asked.

"Yesterday."

"Yesterday? But if..." My words trailed off, but I completed the
sentence in my head. If it had happened yesterday, then Emma must have
known about her brother's condition when I'd asked her if Jez was OK.
Why hadn't she told me? Did she really care so little about him that
she thought something like this not worth mentioning?

"I'm surprised your mother didn't insist on calling the police in," I
said.

"I've told you before, she doesn't care about me."

"Don't be silly. Of course she cares."

He glared at me again. "You don't know anything."

I ignored this. "I'd still like to know who did this to you," I said.
Then I remembered what Emma had told me, the first time I'd mentioned
Jez's bruises to her. "Jez, you didn't get these from trying to pick up
guys, did you?"

The boy's eyes flashed with a sudden fire. "What do you mean, pick up
guys?" he asked. There was a warning tone in his voice, but I ploughed
ahead anyway.

"You know what I mean. Picking up guys for sex and stuff."

He got to his feet again, but slowly this time. He was shaking with
suppressed anger. "Is that what you think I do?"

"I don't know," I said trying to conciliatory. "I just thought it might
be something like that because you hear about those sorts of things all
the time; gays getting beaten up, and Emma said..."

"Emma said? You listened to that lying cow?" He was backing towards the
door and there were fresh tears on his face. "You think just because
I'm gay I'm going to try to go with just anyone? You really think I'm
like that?"

"Jez..." I reached out for him, but he pushed me away.

"I thought you were my friend. I thought you were different to all the
others."

"Jez, I am your friend."

"Yeah, sure. Some friend you are if you think I would do something like
that." He was at kitchen door now. "I should have known better than to
trust you. You're no different from any of the others." He turned to
leave.

This looked to be turning out pretty badly. I grabbed for his arm and
catching him by the wrist I pulled him towards me. He tried to fight me
off but I hauled him close and put my arms around him, holding him.

"Get off me. Leave me alone."

"Jez, stop it! Stop it now!" I raised my voice to a shout and he froze,
looking up at me.

"I didn't do anything like that," he said, after a long moment, his
voice small. "I wouldn't. I've never even done anything with anyone."

"I know," I said, gently. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have suggested it."

"There's no one would want to do anything with me anyway. No one care's
about me." He gave a sad, forced smile and then the tears started again.

Again I held him until the tears stopped, this time not feeling in the
least bit uncomfortable. I realised then how unfair I had been, blaming
Jez for my own problems. Jez was gay, he couldn't help that, and if for
a while I doubted my own sexuality, then that was hardly Jez's fault.
Jez obviously needed a friend at the moment and it looked like I had
been nominated by default. I knew I couldn't turn him away. "Jez, I'm
your friend," I told him. "And I care about what happens to you. That's
why I hate to see you hurt. If you don't want to tell me what happened,
that's fine. But I want you to tell me that you're not in any danger
and that it's not likely to happen again."

Jez looked at me a moment in silence and then he shook his head. "It
won't," has said softly.

"OK, that's good enough for me."

**********

Feedback is encouraged and always much appreciated. Email me at
gym@softhome.net or visit my discussion board at
http://www.gymnopedies.info for more stories, news and previews.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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