An emotional and Romantic story, star crossed lovers, regretting and fearing everything they are and everything they do. Basically they’re fucked from the start. Or well written smut, whatever. P...
It was wrong that they had to hide this, wrong that he couldn’t show his feeling in public like every other couple in the world, wrong that his parents couldn’t understand the emotions he felt.
Or maybe they chose not to understand? And maybe it was those things, The stares, the scowls, the insults; maybe it was those that made this feeling so much sweeter?
The taste of him as they shifted on the bed, the feel of him, his angel soft hair and his smooth tanned skin, running like liquid beneath his fingers. Maybe these splendid stolen things were only as good as they were because of the danger there was in performing them? But it was wrong. Patrick pulled back from a heated kiss, and took his boyfriends face into his hands, gently stroking a cheek.
“Mmmm?” Pete’s eyes were glazed with lust, staring hungrily at Patrick’s love swollen lips. The desire in his eyes made Patrick’s stomach flutter, and he forgot any regrets or fears, letting Pete resume the exploration of his mouth, groaning in pleasure and letting his own hands roam over the curves and ripples of Pete’s tanned, muscled stomach. For a few moments, he let himself be washed away in the emotions, Pete’s closeness; the warm, sweet breath on his neck as his lover paused, panting from the heat of the moment. But the happiness never lasted. Patrick’s mind would always replay the warnings, the bright yellow signs, cautioning him to stop this, knowing it was wrong.
What if my stepfather finds out? The neighbors? What if the entire town starts talking about us, the queers, we might not be allowed back in school…. Stepfather would kick me out, or lock me up in shame. I should stop this…..
But he didn’t it want to stop, and somehow all the risk, and the threats, they amplified his feelings, and his tongue was roaming. It ran over the sensitive spot on Pete’s left collar bone, traced a dark swirling tattoo on his stomach, and finally, Patrick felt Pete’s breath hit as it reached his belly button. Swirling his tongue gently around the rim, he brought his hands up, trying to unbutton Pete’s jeans. Pete tried to help him; his back arching, his head falling back into the pillows, and his eyes rolling as Patrick managed to unzip his jeans, and claim his prize.
It was amazing what Patrick could do to me, The feel of him, the taste of him, his body, his eyes, everything he did and everything he is, is perfect. And Oh! The way he can me feel, like I’m the only person in the world, the only person he cares about, the only person that matters. (Plus the boy is a master with his tongue, it’s really quite amazing. And I had almost believed him when he told me he was straight! ) It’s a good thing I don’t give up easily, because this relationship with Trick is the best I’ve had in my life, and I don’t want it to end. Fuck the bigoted homophobes we share this town with.
Patrick and Pete were in love, but no one in the small, religious town they lived in would take that as an excuse, no one would listen to explanations; no one would “Keep an open mind.” They would be hated, shunned, and Patrick knew that. But would it be enough to stop them?
“Fuck….” Pete groaned and finished, shouting Patrick’s name and clutching his hair tightly. Licking his lips, Patrick looked up, grinning;
“Am I as good as ever Pete?”
“Better …” Pete groaned, cuddling close to Patrick, resting the younger boy’s head on his shoulder and stroking the soft hair. Patrick laughed again, and this time Pete noticed the halting tone and stiffness in it. Lifting his head, he brought Patrick’s eyes up to meet his own, noticing the fear and regret pooled within the green.
“What’s the matter Patrick?” He asked quietly, already guessing, it was always the same, unlike Pete, Patrick cared what others thought of him.
“It’s nothing…” Patrick answered, using a finger to traces the design on Pete’s T-shirt. Pete stayed silent, he knew that if he did, Patrick would spill everything. “It’s just, Pete what would we do if people found out?”
“About us?” Patrick nodded, and Pete sighed. “Patrick, how many times have I told you? I love you, and no matter what anybody says, or does to us, I will always love you. If we have to, if anybody ever finds out, then I’ll run away with you, we’ll go….. away. Together. Stop worrying!” Patrick smiled and looked down, not answering. And Pete Wondered what had put this much fear in him?
A heavy fist came down across his face, and Patrick was shoved onto the floor by his stepfather, his mother standing in the corner, a worried look on her face, but she took no action to save her son.
“Didn’t I tell you boy? You don’t disagree with me!” Another slap and Patrick felt his eyes watering. “We NEVER speak of queers, in this house, EVER! Do you hear what I’m saying to you?” He began to shake the 16 year old Patrick, who nodded, trying to hold back tears. “And if I ever see you look at another boy, or touch another boy again, I’ll kill you.” He hissed that into his stepson’s ear, quietly so his wife wouldn’t hear. He let go of the boy’s shirt and watched with a stone cold look as the Patrick stumbled, terrified into his bedroom. He had no pity, no empathy, he had seen the way that, that boy had looked at the new black haired one moving in down the street, he had seen the way he talked to him, and he wouldn’t stand a queer boy living in his house.
That had been almost two years ago, and Patrick was still scared to death of his stepfather. A young, tall man, heavily muscled and brutally strong, he never let Patrick forget that night, those warning’s. He wouldn’t let him forget, whether it was through a rougher than called for pat on the shoulder, a few whispered warning’s or a hard look. Steven NEVER let Patrick forget. With that night playing through his mind again, Patrick looked up at Pete, who smiled sleepily and asked.
“Take me home?”
Stretching, the boy’s walked out of Patrick’s basement, grabbing sweaters off the hamper in the corner by the bed. They walked out the side door, into the small yard that connected Patrick’s house to the neighbors. He turned to Pete, about to say something about the beauty of the changing leaves, when a high, cruel voice cut through his thoughts.
“Saw you two queers being queer right there, it makes me sick!” Patrick’s head whipped around, and he spotted 14 year old Andrew Murphy perched on the wooden fence that separated his yard from the next. Andrew was the son of the town’s biggest busybody, and son of the town’s most bigoted bastard. After his own stepfather of course.
“What do you want?” Pete’s eyes were narrowed and his arm was protectively close to Patrick’s waist.
“Just sitting here, minding my own business…..watching you do yours. He pointed to a small window, placed in the foundation of the house. Through it you could see into Patrick’s bedroom, and more importantly, you could see Patrick’s bed. Pete looked over to Patrick, and see that his face had gone deathly pale.
“Little fucker.” Pete growled, and walked towards Andrew. “So, what did you see kid?”
The boy laughed “Disgusting things boys, embarrassing things, queer things. Touching, kissing….” He raised an eyebrow suggestively “OTHER stuff.” Pete laughed, and the boy’s smug face dropped.
“What’re you laughing at? Stop laughing, I’m going to go tell my mother and father, I’ll tell them what I saw you guys doing, and then she’ll tell that ones parents” He nodded towards Patrick, who looked terrified. “And most likely she’ll tell the entire town as well.” The smug look came back onto his face when he saw Pete’s reaction. He went to stand up, and Pete grabbed his ankle.
With a vicious tug, Pete pulled him down from the fence, into Patrick’s yard, and held him against the wooden beams.
“Listen….kid. You tell anyone ANYONE about this, and I’ll beat the shit out of you, understand? Just because I’m queer.” He spat the word onto the ground like it burned his mouth, “Doesn’t mean I couldn’t squish you like a bug.” The boy laughed.
“Well, somebody’s touchy…”
“JUST STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM US!”
Pete shoved the boy to the ground, crossing his arms and walking back towards Patrick while Andrew hopped the fence and landed in his own front yard. He took the time to pick up a rock, throw it at Patrick and shout “QUEERS” Before running back into his house. Pete looked over to his boyfriend, and stroked his arm gently.
“Hey, Patrick please, come on, this isn’t anything, that boy won’t tell anybody, he’s all talk. We have nothing to worry about.” Patrick just dropped his eyes, and turned back into the house, leaving Pete alone on the back porch.
Okay, let me just say, that this story was inspired by all the freaking Bigoted bastards in this world. You don’t know how cruel people can be. It’s horrible, and it needs to stop. I’m hoping this story will open a few eyes, tell me if you want me to continue, because I don’t know how people are going to take it.
Show Peterick some love guys!
Oh this story was also inspired (a bit) by Brokeback Mountain, which is really a great movie, anybody who’s interested :)