I don’t care that he’s done most of those things. I care that he probably didn’t want to do them. They’re primarily really vanilla, but then I felt guilty about trying to steer his tastes so I included a wider variety. It was probably the wrong thing to do but who do you consult about providing porn for an eighteen-year-old abuse victim? He yawns and I take that as my cue. “Watch them. Enjoy them. Have fun.”
He doesn’t respond. “Justin, I’ll see you tomorrow. Happy birthday.”
He nods distractedly still turning the case over and over in his hands.
~~~684~~~ I hide the DVDs under my bed. I think about Debbie finding them and pack them under some stuff in my duffle bag. I turn on the TV but nothing makes any sense to me. I know that’s what normal lives are supposed to look like but they bear no resemblance to mine. Instead I take out the art box that Melanie and Lindsay gave me and just examine all the new tools. I take a few pastels out of the pack and start working with them, loving the way they smudge under my fingers and watching the colors blend.
~~~685~~~ I pour myself a drink and log online. What I need is a fast efficient no strings attached fuck from someone who won’t be forever damaged by everything I say or do. I click on one of my favorite sites but I can’t get the images of Justin out of my head. Great, I think we’re both scarred for life. In the end I just jerk off, and refuse to feel guilty that I don’t feel guilty. At ten I go to the baths and fuck a couple of guys. I go home to pass out, but just can’t sleep.
~~~686~~~ I’m lying in bed, trying not to think about touching myself. I can’t get it out of my head but I can’t bring myself to do it. There’s a clicking on the window. I startle and bring my hands above the covers. The clicking continues and I think I hear my name. Brian’s on the porch roof, hauling himself up. I open the window wider and he falls through, smiling at me. He reeks of alcohol and sways a little when he stands up.
“What are you doing here?”
He pulls me onto the bed with him almost crushing me.
~~~687~~~ He smells so good and his lips are warm when I kiss him. His hands are pushing against my chest so I rise up on my arms to look at him. His eyes are dark and his legs wrap around my waist. “You’re drunk.”
I nod and kiss his neck. “Brian, we should…”
I bury my nose in his hair and he sighs, his hand on the back of my head, his mouth whispering, “yes” into my ear.
We peel off our clothes, grasping at each other whenever we lose contact. He’s panting and rutting against my leg. “Brian, yes.”
~~~688~~~ I’m afraid this is a dream but when he sucks on my earlobe and moves a spit slicked finger inside me I know it isn’t. I rub myself against his hip as he pushes in a second finger. His knuckle brushes my prostate and I bite my lip to keep from moaning and waking Debbie. He covers my mouth with his, and somehow manages to kiss me and mumble my name at the same time. I want him inside me but before I can tell him that I feel my orgasm, so long denied, crash over me, soaking us both.
~~~689~~~ I feel the hot wet slide of his come, as he keeps moving, pushing himself back on my fingers, pressing his cock against my thigh. My own erection is sliding against his smooth skin. His hands press on the small of my back, bringing us closer and I kiss him while I come, letting his mouth muffle the sounds of my pleasure. When I collapse I feel him wriggle under me and move to avoid crushing him. I can’t stop kissing his jaw or playing with his hair. He can’t seem to stop murmuring my name or stop touching me.
~~~690~~~ He passes out. I turn a little in his arms and pull the blanket over us both. I wonder what this means, if it means anything. He might not even remember it in the morning. I’m afraid to go to sleep, sure that when I wake up, he’ll be gone, but the comforting sound of his deviated septum and the safe warm feeling of his body against mine soothes me. My eyes close. I don’t even think I dream. We’re still like that when hear the door creak open. Debbie peeks her head in, sees us and closes it again.
~~~691~~~ He’s smiling at me, his arm over my torso. What’s he doing in my bed? I look around and…fuck. He moves closer to me, kissing my cheek. He’s naked, I’m naked… oh shit. I sit up quickly and he looks scared. Dammit what the fuck did I do? I stand up; I need to get out of here before Debbie sees me. What I did is unforgivable. I start to pull on my jeans when he reaches for me. “Stay for breakfast.”
I know he’s insane but does he actually want me dead? Thanks, no. I’d rather keep my balls.”
~~~692~~~ I don’t know why he’s so upset. I knew he’d freak but he’s acting like someone’s coming after him. “Brian, I’m okay.”
“Of course, this is what you wanted.”
“It’s what you wanted too.”
He doesn’t deny it. He pulls his shirt on. “Justin, we’ve been over this. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry’s bullshit. There’s nothing wrong with getting your needs met.”
He looks sick. It can’t be because of what I said. He’s the one who told me that.
“Justin, I’m not what you need.” He’s looking for his jacket.
There’s a knock on the door. He freezes. “Come in.”
“Justin!”
~~~693~~~ Debbie pushes the door open. “Everybody decent?”
I am so fucked. Justin stays under the covers. “We’ll be down in a minute.”
She stares at me and I feel like I’m fifteen again and she found my cigarettes. “I’ll make coffee.”
She pulls the door closed and Justin stands up, getting his own clothes. “I’m starving.”
“Justin…”
He turns to look at me. “Brian, we had sex. Is that so terrible? It wasn’t terrible, was it?”
I don’t remember much, what I do remember, warm soft skin, wet lips, his voice chanting my name… was not terrible. I am terrible.
~~~694~~~ He’s about to give me the lecture on what we can and can’t do. I cut him off, standing in front of him, barefoot and shirtless. “Brian, I wanted it. I wanted you. I’m healed, look.” I spread my arms out and turn around, reminding him that I’m not the same scarred kid I was three months ago. “I’m of legal age and made a decision. That’s what you said to do.”
He won’t meet my eyes. I have to stand on my tiptoes to kiss him. “I’m not going to stop wanting you just because you tell me to.”
~~~695~~~ I push him away. He’s not scarred, externally, from any recent issues. He still has a mark or two that will never go away from a lifetime of people using him because he’s pretty and looks young, is young. I want to bolt but Debbie’s calling us both and I have a feeling that I’m never going to hear the end of this. Or maybe she’ll do the right thing and ban me from the house. I need to make arrangements for someone to take him to his appointments. I can be trusted alone with him. I can’t be trusted.
~~~696~~~ Debbie pours us each a cup of coffee and then stands, her arms folded, watching us. “Brian, what time does Justin have to be at the tutor’s?”
He looks up, seeming surprised and relieved. “One, you think you can get him there?”
“No, but I think you both need to shower before you leave the house.”
“Debbie I…”
She shakes her head and I’m lost. Brian was so adamant about me going yesterday.
She pats his shoulder. “You’re not bailing now.” And then she hits him hard on the back of his head. “Asshole.”
“Leave him alone.” She kisses me.
~~~697~~~ Justin goes upstairs to shower and while I feel no need to justify my actions to Debbie, I do feel the need to stay the hell away from him.
I open my mouth but she shakes her head. “Now would be a good time to use that ‘no apologies, no regrets’ bullshit you’re so proud of.”
“It’s not bullshit.”
“Sure it is. Okay, so you shouldn’t have moved so quickly, but you care about the kid, and he fucking loves you. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea for him know that sex can be more than a business proposition.”
~~~698~~~ I shower quickly, sure that if I take to long Brian will be gone before I’m downstairs. When I’m dressed I stand at the top of the stairs, listening.
“Debbie, you don’t have a clue what he’s dealing with.”
My anger builds and I storm into the kitchen pushing Brian backwards a little. “You promised! It’s my story and you fucking swore you’d keep your mouth shut!”
They both seem surprised. Brian leans against the wall. “I wasn’t going to tell her anything.”
“Oh.”
Debbie looks at the both of us and shakes her head. “Fucking hopeless.”
“Are we hopeless?”
~~~699~~~ What do I say? The truth is we probably are. If I tell him that, then what? He takes a flying leap off the West End Bridge. Or maybe he just slides back into his own head again and this time no one can get him out. I shake my head. “I don’t think we’re hopeless.”
His whole body seems to relax, “but last night…” He takes a step towards me but I hold him back, “was a mistake.”
“It didn’t feel like a mistake.”
“Justin, I’m going home to shower.”
“I’ll come with.”
I’m too tired to fight him.
~~~700~~~ He tells me not to even think about joining him in the shower. I consider doing it anyway, but I’m not sure how far I can push him. I lay back on the bed, fully clothed, thinking about last night and about his body, covered in soap, the water running in rivulets down his back, I get hard. Here, it feels safe. I touch myself.
He comes out wearing a robe but stops when he sees me. I move my hand away quickly but he nods to me, he wants me to keep going. I do, never dropping his gaze.