Date: Fri, 16 Apr 2004 08:38:07 -0700 (PDT)
From: SJL <geekwriter143@yahoo.com>
Subject: Paul and Adam: Chapter 14

Another update, and it hasn't even been a month yet!  This is yet another
mini-chapter, which may or may not be the way I update from now on.  At
least the mini-chapters get finished sooner, right?

Don't read this if you shouldn't read this.  Be nice to puppies.  Go
outside and breathe the fresh air.

Contact me at -- geekwriter143@yahoo.com
Paul & Adam site -- http://veggiegrlaz.tripod.com
My blog -- http://www.livejournal.com/users/geekwriter143

I love any and all emails, and feel free to leave comments in my blog if
you're so inclined.

On to Chapter 14, from Paul's POV
-------------------------------------------------------------

We don't even make it to the bed before Adam starts kissing me.

"Missed you," he whispers between kisses as his fingers find my zipper and
slide it down quickly.  He pulls away from me for just a moment and shrugs
his backpack off his shoulders, lets it fall to the floor with a heavy
thud.

"What about all your homework?" I ask as he reaches for me again.

"Fuck it."  His breath is hot against my neck and he kisses me there, bites
me gently.  He reaches in through my fly and starts to stroke me.  "God, I
missed you so much."

"We saw each other all day," I say, laughing a little bit at his intensity.

"I missed kissing you," he whispers.  His mouth finds mine again and I
close my eyes and wrap my arms around him, feel up the muscles in his back.
I take his shirt off and stroke his chest and he drops to his knees and
tugs at the button on my shorts.

"Wait," I say.  "Door."  I go over to the door and lock it, and when I turn
back around Adam is sitting on my bed, naked except for his socks, which he
quickly takes off, too.

"What's up with you?" I ask, pulling my shirt off as I walk towards him.

Adam reaches up and pulls my body forward so that I'm standing between his
legs.  He unbuttons my shorts and tugs them down and reaches around to
squeeze my ass as his mouth closes around my cock.

I sigh and slide my fingers through his hair as he bobs up and down on my
dick.  "You'd think we hadn't done this in weeks," I say softly.  Adam
looks up at me and I feel a stab of pleasure in my stomach.  There's
something so amazing about the way he looks with my cock in his mouth.

He pulls back and takes my cock in his hand and starts stroking it against
his cheek.  "I need you," he whispers, closes his eyes.

"What's going on?" I ask, my fingers soft in his hair.

Adam shakes his head.  He lies back on the bed and reaches for me.  I kick
my shorts off and climb over him and our bodies fit perfectly together as I
stretch out over him.

"Talk to me," I whisper as I touch my nose to his.

Adam's hands are stroking my lower back and my ass and he's grinding up
against me.  His eyes are closed and his breath is coming hard.  He doesn't
want to talk.

I kiss him and move my hips until I find that perfect place where our cocks
are side-by-side, rubbing up against each other and between our bellies.

"Love this," Adam whispers.

"Love you," I whisper back.

Adam moans and arches up against me.  "Love you, too.  Need you so much."
It's not his typical dirty talk, but I like it just as much, if not more.

I groan and drop my head down against his neck as his fingers spread my ass
cheeks and he begins to rub my hole.

"Feel good?" Adam asks.

"Yeah," I whisper.  I kiss and lick his neck, taste the sweat beginning to
form there.

Adam shivers and when I pull back to look down at him I see that his cheeks
are damp with tears.

"Baby," I murmur.  "Baby, what's wrong?"

Adam shakes his head.  "It doesn't matter.  Make love to me.  I need to
know that you love me."

"I do love you," I say.

"I need to feel you inside me."

"You promised," I whisper.  I kiss him, gaze down into his eyes, such deep
pools of blue.  "You promised you wouldn't shut me out anymore.  Talk to
me."

"I will," he says, stroking my hair.  "I will, but I need this first.
Please."

He knows I can't refuse anything he asks of me.  I'm looking into his eyes
as I enter him, and even though he's crying he doesn't look away from me.

I'm not used to him being so silent.  I'm used to him talking dirty and
describing everything he's feeling, everything he wants.  "Love you," I
say, partly because it's true but also to break the silence.

Adam doesn't say anything.  He wraps his legs around my waist and arches
his hips up to meet my thrusts.  His arms are tight around me and I can
feel his fingers digging in to my skin as he tries to pull me closer,
closer, closer still.

Soon I'm lost in it, in the intensity and the delicious ache.  Even better
than the feeling of him so hot and tight around my cock is the way he's
holding on to me and the soft moans coming from the back of his throat and
the way he pulls me down to kiss him again and again.

He comes just before I do, and we're both shaking and sticky and we curl up
together, clinging to each other.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

Adam's eyes flutter open and he looks at me quizzically.  "For what?"

"For all of this.  It's my fault.  I know it is.  If I hadn't wanted you so
much, if I hadn't kissed you or-"

"Stop being an asshole," Adam says, but he says it gently.  "You think you
made me gay, is that it?"

I don't know what to say.

"You think you turned me?  I mean, you're sexy, Paul, but even you couldn't
make a straight guy gay.  Don't you ever fucking apologize to me again, not
for this.  I'm happier with you than I've ever been in my entire life."

"You're not happy," I whisper, brushing a strand of hair off his forehead.

"That's not your fault.  It's everything else that's fucked up.  I would
have figured out I was gay sooner or later, even if you hadn't fucked me."
He smiles, then kisses the tip of my nose.  "And I'm OK with it.  Maybe I'm
not ready to dance around in a Speedo on the back of a Pride float, but I
doubt I ever will be."

I smile.  "I like the way you look in a Speedo."

"Fine.  I'll dance around in a Speedo for you, then, but no one else."

"Promise?"

"If you're good."  He sighs.  "I talked to my dad."

I should have figured.  "And?"

"Seems everybody's taking the blame for me being gay these days," he says.
"He thinks I like dick because he was never around to teach me how to be a
real man."

"Oh."

"I told him it was bullshit.  He doesn't know the first thing about me, and
he thinks he can tell me who I am?"  His eyes flash.  "He doesn't even know
when my birthday is."

"I'm sure he-"

"No," Adam cuts me off.  "He doesn't.  I asked him when it was and he
couldn't tell me."

I slide my fingers through his hair.  "Well, if it makes you feel any
better, I've always thought November third was more important than
Christmas, Easter, and the Fourth of July rolled into one."

He touches his forehead to mine.  "I know."

"So, what are you going to do?"

He laughs roughly.  "What can I do?  Nothing."

"Talk to him."

He sighs.  "I can't talk to him.  He doesn't listen.  It's like that stupid
thing about the dog this summer.  He only pretends to listen when he thinks
it will get him something he wants.  And even if he did listen, I just
don't care anymore."

The sunlight comes through my window and across the bed in a diagonal
stripe, warming us across our chests and stomachs.  I stroke Adam's stomach
and study the way the light illuminates the soft, small hairs across it.  I
toy with his bellybutton for a moment before speaking.

"At least you have a father," is what I say.  I usually try not to play the
father card, since it's not exactly fair, but I'd honestly rather have a
shitty father than none at all.

"I know," Adam says softly.  "And it's shitty, but sometimes I wonder
whether or not it's a good thing."

"You'd miss him if he were gone."

"But that's the thing, Paul, he is gone.  He always has been gone.  At
least your father paid attention to you."

"Yeah," I say, "before he left for parts unknown."

He kisses me.  "Fine.  Say I do talk to him.  What do we talk about?"

"Anything.  Tell him about your day-"

He snorts.  "Yeah.  I'll tell him all about how you fucked me.  That'll go
over great."

"That's not what I mean.  Tell him what your classes were like.  I know
it's boring, but it's better than nothing.  You don't make much of an
effort."

He sits up and looks back at me, then shakes his head.

"Adam," I say, reaching for him.

"No," he says.  He pulls away from me and starts pulling on his clothes.
"How can you even say that?  I don't make an effort?  You have no idea what
it's like with him."

"Adam," I say again.  I sit up and run my fingers through my hair.

"You think all I have to do is tell him about my classes and all of a
sudden we'll have some perfect relationship?"

"No, I-"

"You think it's my fault."

"No."

"You think I haven't tried to talk to him?  My entire life I've tried to
talk to him.  He doesn't listen.  He never has."

"I didn't mean it that way," I say.  "Adam, I'm sorry.  I just meant that
now that you've got his attention..."

Adam drops onto the bed and lets his head fall back.  He sighs, then sits
up straight.  "I know you have fantasies about what it would be like to
have a Dad," he says softly, not looking at me.  "But they're just
fantasies.  It's not real.  Nothing I can do or say is going to make him
into the perfect father."  He turns to look at me and smiles slightly.
"He's an asshole, and I just have to live with it."

I reach up and stroke his lower lip with my thumb, then notice I've got a
blob of blue paint on my thumbnail.  I scratch it off with my pointer
finger, and Adam leans to pick my clothes up off the floor.

"No," I say, "no clothes.  Clothes are bad."

"I have at least three hours of homework to do," Adam tells me.  "And I'll
never get anything done if you're naked."

I pout, but Adam doesn't relent so I get dressed.

"At least sit with me," I say, pulling the covers up on the bed and
stretching out with a sketchpad.

Adam unlocks my door and opens it a crack.  "Fine," he says as he settles
in next to me, his back against the wall, his legs draped over mine.  "But
no fooling around.  At least until I'm finished."  He smiles at me and I
smile back.

I doodle in my sketchpad for a while, then draw the pile of dirty clothes
near my closet, making sure to sketch and shade every wrinkle and fold of
the fabrics.

After nearly an hour, I hear feet on the stairs and Caroline pushes my door
open.  "Hi," she says, looking from me to Adam, then back again.  She's
breathless, which is weird since running up the steps doesn't usually wind
her.  "Mom wants you to help her carry groceries in from the car," she
says.

I sigh.

Caroline rolls her eyes.  "Just do it, lazy ass."

I grumble a little bit, but set my sketchpad down and untangle my legs from
Adam's.  He's reading his Anatomy & Physiology textbook and doesn't even
look up.

I head downstairs and out the front door, expecting to see my mother but
she's not there.  Neither is her car.

I frown and look back at the house for a second, then realize that I heard
my bedroom door shut when I was almost outside.  I don't know what
Caroline's up to, but it can't be good.

I run inside and up the stairs and push my door open.  Adam's sitting on my
bed with one hand over his mouth.  His eyes are wild as he looks up at me.

I look over at Caroline, who's leaning against my desk, her arms wrapped
around her waist.

"What the hell's going on?" I ask her.  "Why did you tell me Mom wanted me
to help unload the car?  Mom's not even home."

"Yeah, about that," Caroline says softly.  "I needed to talk to Adam alone
for a second.  We have a problem."