Date: Tue, 22 Feb 2000 22:20:02 -0500 (EST)
From: David Lemmaire <lemmaire@email.com>
Subject: "Darien's Tears" (3/6) (t/t, inc, oral)

DARIEN'S TEARS (t/t, inc, oral)
by Lemmaire

(Part 3 of 6)

He was soft...limp.  And to my surprise, he stayed that way, even as I
began to lick him with my tongue.  I inhaled deeply, pressing my face into
his groin...faint, downy pubic hair filling my eyes and my nose and my
senses.  It was a wonderful smell.  Clean and boyish and faintly sweaty.
I'd never experienced it before.  I continued breathing, hungry, wanting
to experience it forever.

I was enjoying his sweet, exciting scent so much, for a minute, I forgot
to keep sucking him.  Then I came back to reality and started tonguing his
limp penis again, swirling it gently in my mouth.  I moved my head a
little and lapped at his balls...two perfectly oval almonds, hanging
loosely in his hairless scrotum.  They were perfect.  I wanted to taste
them.  Take them all in.

He shifted a little on the bed.  Uncomfortably.  Squirming.

I moved back up and tried sucking his dick again, but no matter what I
tried, he remained soft and flaccid.  After a long ten minutes of doing my
best, it was clear he wasn't responding at all.  I looked up
shyly...embarrassed at my meager skill.

"What's the matter?" I asked him gently.  "Am I doing it wrong?"

He shook his head immediately.  His eyes lit up with fear over my
misunderstanding.

"No," he said quickly.  "It feels great...honest.  I just...."

His words trailed off and I lifted my head.  I sat up on the bed and
admired his naked body, stretched out in front of me...so soft and
inviting.  So untouched and beautiful.  I longed to make him feel good and
didn't understand why I didn't know how to do it.  I mean, it couldn't be
that hard, right?  I'd seen the pictures.  You just sort of...put your
mouth around it and suck.  I might have been new at it, but hell, it
wasn't like geometry homework.  It was supposed to just...happen.

He sensed my discomfort.

"My mind is just wandering," he answered softly.  "I like the way it
feels.  I like it a lot. I just..."

"What?" I begged sincerely, looking at him with pleading eyes.  All I
wanted to do was make him feel good.

"I just...I was..."

He squirmed nervously on the bed again.  His words were coming out in
sputters.

"I was trying to remember what time zone I'm in," he said finally.

"What...TIME zone??"

It took me by such surprise, I burst out laughing.

"What???" he asked innocently. "What's so funny about that?"

He looked so sincere.  So completely shocked at my reaction.

I struggled to keep a straight face.

"You're in Pacific Time," I told him. Then I added with a mischievous
grin, "I'm not quite sure why you need to know that when you're getting a
blowjob -- but that's where you are."

He laughed back and relaxed a little.  Some of the nervousness left his
face.

"Thanks," he said, breathing deeply.  "I was trying to do the math in my
head."

I was still stumped.  Didn't have a clue what he was talking about.

He saw the puzzled look on my face and explained.

"I told my mom I'd call her at 3 o'clock her time.  That's when she gets
home from work."

"Ahh..." I said, smiling at the reason he was having a hard time getting
aroused. I was glad it was no reflection on my novice fellatial powers.
"Why didn't you say so?  Hell, I couldn't get a boner thinking about your
mom either."

We both grinned at that one.

"All I could see was her face in my mind," he giggled.  "Like a big, scary
picture.  I was getting a major soft-on."

We laughed and he joined me in an upright position, sitting cross-legged
on the bed, his cute little package still limp as a curled-up piece of
shrimp.

"Then I looked over at the clock," he said, "and I noticed it was getting
close to noon over here -- and then I started thinking of time zones --
and then..."

"And then," I finished, pointing down at his teeny, shriveled willy, "you
went into major hibernation."

He grinned.  Looked sheepish.

"Sorry," he said, sighing.  "Let me go call my mom and get it over with.
Then I can come back up and be more..."

He stopped, searching for the right term.

"Firm about things?" I finished...flashing him an innocent smile.

"Right," he grinned, jumping up and putting on his clothes.

I got dressed too.  It seemed pointless to sit there on the bed with my
pants off and my engines idling while he went downstairs and called his
mom.  I'm not that much of a horny pig.  Hell, I really liked Darrie.  I
didn't want him to think I was some sex-starved pervert -- like -- hurry
up and call your mom so you can come back up and do it with me.  A person
has to show a little class once in a while, right?

So, I found my own clothes and put them back on while he finished dressing
and left the room, headed for the downstairs phone.

Picturing Aunt Chelsea in my mind -- whatever was left of my previous
erection had shriveled down into chestnut size, matching his.  Not that
I'd ever tell Darien, but she was a skinny sort of horsey-looking woman.
Yeesh.  If I had to screw her, you'd have to mix a few dozen Viagras in
with my Frosted Flakes.

I still thought my Uncle Glenn was a major, jerk-off asshole for having an
affair on her -- it really messed up their family, and it hurt Darien
very, very much.  But just between you and me -- if I was married to the
female version of Mr. Ed, I might be looking around for a piece of
something a little more appealing on the side myself.

I grinned and turned the lights back on.  Hi-Ho, Chelsea, away.

I wanted to give Darrie his privacy while he was downstairs talking to his
mom, so I used the time to clean up my room a little.  I made his bed for
him.  Mine was still untouched from the night before.  I made a mental
note to remember that -- in case we wound up spending all our time in just
one bed at night, which it was beginning to look like we'd most definitely
do.

I'd have to rumple up my blankets a little in the morning to make it look
like both beds were being slept in.  I'm sure my mom would be less than
thrilled, knowing she'd opened her home to her only nephew, and her son
was upstairs, yanking on his family jewels.

I picked my magazines up from the floor and put them back in their hiding
place.  Mom and The Beast would be home from her ballet lesson in another
hour or two.  No sense having them stroll in unexpectedly and see page 22
hanging open with a big, black dick the size of a moose staring them both
in the face.  They'd pass out dead on the spot.

After my secret stash was safely tucked back where it belonged, I grabbed
the hamper from the side of my room, walked out in the hall and dumped the
clothes down the laundry chute, smiling to myself as I watched our clothes
tumble down into the darkness together.  They were just like me and Darrie
-- brand new to each other, but already inexplicably mixed.

>From the kitchen downstairs, I could hear Darien's voice drifting up,
mumbled and soft.  I couldn't make out what he was saying.  I considered
eavesdropping.  I could stand at the top of the stairs, strain my ears and
try to hear his half of the conversation, but I decided against it.  It
didn't seem right.

I went back in my room and shut the door, giving him all the privacy I
could.

I killed time, straightening my room, doing menial, unimportant things.  I
was a pretty organized kid at 14.  My room was never what you'd call
messy, even on my worst days.

I slid a few papers into piles on my desk...put a couple of loose CD's
back in their cases...shut off the computer monitor...but that was about
all I could find to do.

So, I turned on the radio, opened the curtains, and sat by the window,
just looking out, feeling the warmth of the California sunshine on my
cheeks...humming along to the music, looking at nothing in particular,
waiting for Darrie to come back up.

Five minutes passed.  Then ten.  Then fifteen.  Then twenty.

I started to get fidgety, looking at the clock.  I switched stations,
found some better music and watched a couple of birds chatting together on
the back yard fence.

I picked up a book and began to read.  Not really reading, I guess.  Just
flipping through pages absent-mindedly, trying not to be too impatient for
my cousin's return.

I had still had blowjobs in the back of my mind, but it was more than
that.  As the minutes ticked by, I realized with a pleasant sort of
surprise, that it wasn't just the physical stuff.  He'd only arrived
yesterday, but already something had happened.  Sitting alone in my room,
I was already missing his...company.  Amazing.

What a rare and unexpected find he was.  An instant companion.  Back in my
life for just 24 hours, and already, my room seemed empty without his
companionship.  I liked that feeling.  It made me feel...complete,
somehow.  As if Darien was something I had always been missing.  I just
didn't know it was an empty spot until he'd stepped into my life and
filled it.

45 minutes passed -- and still -- no sign of him.  Not a word, not a
whisper, not a hint of his footsteps coming back up the stairs.  I began
to get mildly worried.  What if something was wrong?

I opened my door and walked out into the hall.  I couldn't hear his voice
anymore.  Wherever he was, I didn't think he was on the phone. Crossing
down the hall to my mom and dad's bedroom, I took their phone from the
cradle and listened for a second. Nothing but a dial tone.

"Darrie?" I yelled.  "Are you okay down there?"

There was no response.  Maybe he hadn't heard me.

I went downstairs, peeked into the kitchen, half expecting to see him, but
he wasn't there either.

The box of donuts was still open from earlier that morning.  I closed it
and wiped the sugar off the table with the sweep of a hand, not really
thinking about it, just doing it...looking around, wondering where Darrie
went.

I heard a soft noise from the basement rec room and noticed the door was
open a crack.

"Darrie?" I called softly.  "Are you down there?"

I heard sniffling.  Movement on the steps.  He cleared his throat and
answered back up.

"I'll be right up," he called, trying desperately to sound cheerful.  It
was the worst performance I'd ever heard.  His voice was thick and choked
with tears.  It trembled when he answered...congested, raw...obviously
upset.

I took a few steps down and saw him in silhouette, seated on the bottom
step, his head in his hands, leaned over, clutching his knees.  He was
sobbing quietly, trying to hide it from me.

"Are you okay?" I asked him gently.

"I'm...fine..." he lied.  "I'll be up in a second...."

"How come you're sitting down here all alone in the dark?"

He laughed.  Choked back tears and tried to sound brave.

"I...didn't want you to see me crying again..." he said, half-laughing.
"I didn't want you to think I'm some sort of baby."

I sat down and joined him on the bottom step.

"You moron," I said softly, putting my arm around him and bringing him
closer to my chest.  His head fit naturally onto my shoulder.  His heart
opened up, and he cried even harder.

His tears turned to sobs.  His sobs into wails.  Soon, the noise was
almost frightening.

"I hate that asshole!" he screamed into the darkness.  His body was
shaking...his fists were balled in rage.  "He hasn't been home in three
nights...my mom's all upset...she said she called a lawyer today...she..."

His rage took over and he just laid there against me, shaking and crying.

"It's okay," I whispered gently.  "Get mad.  It's all right."

He looked up and there was a shocking fierceness in his eyes.  It was so
strange to see someone so gentle lit up with such powerful anger.

"This whole thing just sucks!" he screamed.  "It just fucking sucks,
Jared."

I held him and began rocking him slowly in my arms.  He melted.  Calmed
down.

"I know," I whispered.  "I know it sucks bad."

"Oh, fuck it," he said, wiping angrily at his nose, pissed off at his own
emotional outburst.  "Let those two assholes do whatever they want.  I
could give a shit."

"Yeah, right," I said softly, the slightest smile in my voice.  "I can
tell you've got it together now."

He gave up the act and cried again.  Soft sobs.  His heavy head on my
shoulder. Soft brown hair pressed against my face.  His arms hanging
limply over my neck.

"It's just not fair," he sobbed quietly.  "They were never supposed to do
this to each other.  Why did this happen?"

The unanswered question hung heavily in the air.  There was really no
answer for him.

"I don't know," I said, stroking his hair, trying to offer comfort. "The
world just sucks sometimes.  I mean, shit.  Parents run it.  What else do
you expect?"

He laughed again...a desperate, hollow, empty sound.  He held me tighter.
He cried and cried.  None of my jokes could break such a heartache.

So, I sat there holding him in my arms, his soft tears soaking my
shoulder, sliding down my neck.

I rocked him gently, kissing the top of his head.

I loved him so much right then.  I wanted to cover him up and protect him
and comfort him.  I wanted to say some kind of magic word and have all his
heartbreak just melt away.  I would have given anything to do that for
him.

"It'll be okay, Darrie," I promised him quietly.

But my words sounded empty and meaningless.

So he sat there and cried, and I rocked him and held him.

Our hearts beat softly in the darkness.  A private duet.  A sad song I
didn't know the music to.  Outside, sunlight filled the sky.

Down here, for Darien...it was way too far away.

__________________________________________________

END OF PART 3
TO BE CONTINUED