Date: Fri, 1 Aug 2008 10:33:22 +0100
From: Gymnopedies <gym@softhome.net>
Subject: My Girlfriend's Brother 4

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 as though 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. Whenever I'd looked
into Emma's eyes I'd always been 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 for 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 to 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'd 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."

**********

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