Date: Mon, 27 Mar 2000 04:33:12 -0800 (PST)
From: Willie Hewes <williehewes@yahoo.com>
Subject: Nickolas Rising 5

======================================================
The fifth and final episode of Nickolas Rising. I hope
you enjoyed it, and that you'll let me know if you
did, or didn't. WillieHewes@yahoo.com
Thanks to the Nifty Archive for publishing this story.

======================================================

     Nickolas looked down at Laine's light brown hair. His head was bent as
if in prayer. His fingers fumbled with his belt. Nickolas could feel his
old friend, Shame, swell in his chest. A secret for everyone, for so
long. Never had anyone seen it, until now. Why did this boy have such power
over him? Yesterday, when Laine had spied on him while he was dancing, he
had become furious. Furious for being spied on, for being looked at when he
didn't know. And yet, at the same time, he felt like he wanted to strip
naked in front of him, show everything and yell: Look at me! You who think
I'm beautiful, look at what I am!

     Laine pulled his pants down and Nickolas closed his eyes, wishing this
was all over. Wishing he didn't have to go through this, the shame, the
inevitable guilt. Wishing this wasn't happening.

     Laine looked. And it took him perhaps a second to realize what he
saw. Nickolas waited for the horrified reaction, but it didn't
come. Finally, he looked down, right into Laine's crystal eyes. They
looked... not unsympathetic. Laine whispered, "Can I touch it?"
     Nickolas was confused. He had anticipated many reactions, horror,
sympathy, disgust. *Can I touch it?* He didn't seem to understand the
words. But something inside of him did, and his exposed member responded by
hardening slowly. Laine took this for a consent, and started stroking it
gently.

     Nickolas was dumbstruck, he could not have done anything if he'd
wanted to. Very soon, he gave in to the pleasant sensations Laine was
giving him. He looked down at Laine's face, that had come dangerously close
now. Laine didn't look up, he looked at Nickolas' cock, now fully erect. He
pulled back the foreskin with his soft, slender fingers and started to wash
the exposed head with his tongue. Nickolas gasped. He had heard of this, of
course, but he could not have guessed it would feel this good. Laine slowly
worked Nickolas' cock deeper into his mouth, and he had to hold on to
Laine's shoulders not to fall over. Laine in turn held on to his
hips. Nickolas listened to his own breathing, he couldn't think anymore,
couldn't keep his eyes open, but something told him he should. He too far
gone to stop his orgasm when he saw through the distortions of his
eyelashes a figure was standing in the dooropening. He realized two things
at once: the man was Thomas Leff, and -luckily- his view was blocked by his
son's head. Laine swallowed him deeply, and he couldn't control himself any
more, his eyes closed, and he came, shuddering, his part buried deeply in
young Leff's mouth.

     The figure in the dooropening had disappeared as silently as it had
came; Laine had no idea it was ever there. Nickolas brought his clothes in
order. They looked at each other, not sure what to say or do, both new to
the situation. Nickolas laughed, shortly, surprised by the strangeness of
it all; this boy, this place, this act. Laine laughed too, though for a
different reason.
     "God," he said, startled, "if my father knew about this..." Nickolas
looked at him, bewildered. Of course, the family drama. This was it, and he
was in the middle of it all. He really didn't want to have anything to do
with it now, the angry father, the tears, the accusations, but what could
he do? What could he do but tell the boy what he had seen?
     "He already does." Laine stared at him, in state of shock. "He, he
came in just now, and looked, and he disappeared again without saying
anything." Laine shook his head in disbelief. This could not be true. He
was sitting in one of the armchairs. Nickolas stood beside him, his eyes on
the bookcase in front of him, apparently lost in thought.
     "No, that's not true," Laine said, getting up, "Nickolas, don't..."
Nickolas shrugged. He didn't want to do this, but he had no choice. With
his eyes cast down, he said:
     "I'm sorry. Your father knows. He's seen you."
     "Us," Laine corrected. If his father had seen them, his anger would
not be directed only towards Laine, but also towards Nickolas. And that was
good, Laine couldn't bear to be alone in this. Not now. But Nickolas had
already exhausted his resources of human kindness.
     "I have to go and change," he said and left the room. Laine stayed
behind, alone and afraid. For a long time, he just sat, without any
coherent thoughts whatsoever. Then he remembered who he had just been
talking to. *Nickolas Rising* His idol. There was nothing he could demand
from him. Even though he knew his secret now, he was still a nobody. A
high-school kid, a child. Slowly, the details of what had passed came back
to him, the feeling of that warm, living thing in his mouth, the surprised
look on Nickolas' face when he asked if he could touch it...

                                ***

"Nickolas, you got to help me, I don't know what to do!" Days later, the
bombshell hadn't dropped, his father hadn't talked to him and Laine was
beginning to think that the suspense was worse than the actual talk would
be.
     "You live your life, Lawrence," Nickolas answered him, "go to school,
do your homework. Be a good boy, and your father will forgive you." He was
packing things into a sportsbag. Leaving, again.
     "You don't understand, my father will disown me, I won't be able to go
to college, I won't have a..." He tried hard not to start crying. "How am I
going to live? Can't you help me?" He bit his lip. His whole life was
coming apart at the seams and Nickolas Rising, the man that had caused it
all didn't even care.
     "Don't you have a mother?" he asked, without even looking at Laine.
     "A couple..." Laine mumbled. "Can't I come with you? Just for a little
while?"
     "Laine, I don't have time to take care of a confused boy that's coming
out. Go to your relatives, go to your teachers, but leave me out of it."
Laine felt his heart sink. He didn't care at all, the bastard didn't care
at all. There was nothing he could do. Maybe he shouldn't try to do
anything at all. Maybe he should just give up, go to his room and hide
under the blankets. Nickolas zipped up his bag and walked towards the
door. Bastard, Laine thought as he passed him. An evil little thought
entered his head. His secret, Laine knew his secret. He followed Nickolas
out of the guest-room. Nickolas was half-way down the stairs when Laine
sharply whispered his name from above. He looked up.
     "Nickolas," Laine whispered, "was I the first?" With the half-sneer
that was Nickolas' normal smile, he answered:
     "You were the only one."
     Laine knew he'd never use his knowlege, but still, the thought that he
was the only one that ever had sex with Nickolas Rising made him feel just
a little better.


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