Date: Wed, 11 Apr 2001 01:29:39 -0500
From: Nobody Anymore <ericdraven10@angelfire.com>
Subject: Nicholas And Mark Chapter 5

This story is intended for those over the age of 18. If you are not 18,
please leave. The story depicts sexual acts between men. If this offends
you, then don't read it. All other disclaimers apply.

Comments are welcome. Please send all comments to ericdraven10@angelfire.com
(c) Copyright 2001 Eric Draven

As I had told some of you in emails, this story is now going to be told by
multiple characters. Each new chapter will be told by another character.

I apologize for the length of time between Chapter 4 and Chapter 5. I have
been extremely busy, and as I have said, this is not my only
pursuit. Please enjoy the story.


Chapter 5 - Nicholas

	I woke up to the smell of bacon frying. My head was still fuzzy
from sleep, and I kept remembering the night before. Had I really had oral
sex with Mark? My mind tried very hard to reject the idea, but flashes of
memory kept returning to demand that I believe it.

	I slowly sat up in the bed and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. I
looked at the clock and saw that it was nearly 7:30 in the morning. Mark
had let me sleep almost an entire hour longer than I normally did. I was
just glad that I didn't have to work.

	It was Sunday, and that meant that it was work out day. On Sundays,
I usually met Pete at the gym and spent two hours of the afternoon working
out and staring at his sweaty body. Ordinarily, Sunday was my favorite day
of the week. However, this Sunday, I wanted to stay home with Mark. I felt
that we needed to discuss what had happened between us last night.

	"Oh, you're awake," said Mark, who was now standing in the bedroom
doorway. "I was just coming to wake you. Breakfast is almost ready."

	He was smiling from ear to ear. If I had any thoughts that he was
upset about last night, they quickly vanished. I still thought that a talk
was in order. If not for him, then at least I would feel better about it.

	"How are you feeling this morning, Mark?" I asked as I climbed out
of bed and reached for my robe.

	"I feel wonderful," he said with a smile. "And what about you?"

	"I am still tired," I replied.

	"Well, we could spend the day in bed," said Mark. "I know that I
would like that very much."

	"No, I am supposed to meet Pete today," I said, standing. I didn't
bother to close and tie my robe. I figured if he had sucked my dick, then
there was no reason to hide it from him.

	"You're leaving?" he asked. I could hear the disappointment in his
voice.

	"Sunday is our work out day," I informed him.

	"Well, at least eat breakfast," he said. Disappointment was now
written all over his face.

	"I suppose I could call Pete and tell him that I won't be able to
make it today," I said, not looking at him. "I haven't even had a chance to
tell him that you are living with me."

	"You could invite him over," said Mark.

	"Don't go getting any ideas in your head about Pete," I said. "He
is straight, and there is no way that he would be interested in having sex
with either of us."

	"Too bad," said Mark. "The three of us could have had so much fun
together."

	"Listen," I told him. "No one can ever know what happened between
us last night."

	"You sound ashamed of last night, Nick," said Mark quickly.
	I had to think about that one. I had wanted Mark just as much, if
not more, than he had wanted me. I had fantasized about it over and over
again, and now I was feeling guilty because it had actually happened.

	At the same time, my traitor of a mind was displaying all sorts of
images of what else I would like to happen between us. I tried really hard
to wipe those images out of my mind and focus on what I was going to say to
Mark.

	"Mark, I am not sure that what we did last night was a good idea,"
I said.

	"Why not?" he demanded. "You didn't force me. If you mean the way
it started, I can't really say anything about that. I wanted you,
Nick. That's the only thing that I can say."

	"I wanted you, too," I replied. "But that doesn't make what we did
right."

	"It doesn't make it wrong, either," he said. He sat down on the bed
and stared at me.

	"Mark," I said.

	"No," he interrupted. "I won't think of what we did as wrong. Nick,
I love you. You told me last night that you love me, too. I believe
that. What we did last night was so wonderful. I can hardly believe that it
happened, but I don't want to ever forget it."

	"I am not asking you to forget about last night, Mark. I am asking
you to think about last night."

	"I have thought of nothing else," he said.

	"Do you realize what the world would say if they knew about us?" I
asked, trying hard not to even think about that part too hard. "No one can
know what is going on between us, Mark. No one."

	"You said that like it is going to continue," he said.

	I hadn't meant to say it that way, but I had to admit to myself
that I had never even entertained the thought of stopping it. In fact, I
was getting aroused just from remembering the night before.

	I wanted to strip his clothes off of him right now, and take him in
my arms. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to do so many things to him, and I
didn't care if it was dirty or wrong.

	This talk was supposed to ease his mind. Now I was the one thinking
all of the bad things. He seemed to be very comfortable with the idea of
carrying on and incestuous affair with me.

	"I guess it is," I said, not meaning to say that at all.

	"Good," he said, standing up and taking my hand. "Come
on. Breakfast is getting cold."

	Just as we sat down at the kitchen table, there was a thunderous
knocking on the trailer door. I couldn't imagine who would be at the door
so early, and I didn't think I wanted to deal with whoever was pounding on
the door like they wanted to break it down.

	Mark looked at me with a slight look of fear in his eyes. I smiled
at him, trying to calm him down. Then I got up and went to the door.

	"I want to talk to you," said my father when I opened the door.

	He didn't even ask to be let in. He just shoved me out of his way
and entered the trailer. He stalked into the living room and turned to face
me.

	"You might as well come into the kitchen," I said, not wanting him
in the house at all. "We are just getting ready to eat breakfast. There's
coffee."

	"I won't be staying long," he said. "Mark, come in here. I think
you should hear this, too."

	Mark, meekly entered the room, and I sat next to him on the
sofa. Dad sat in the only other chair in the room. Unfortunately, it faced
the sofa, so we were forced to look directly at him.

	"If you have come to lecture Mark, you can just leave, Dad," I said
firmly. "This is my house, and I won't have you badgering him here."

	"I came to tell you that I forbid you to let Mark stay here," he
said. "I still own this trailer, Nicholas. I never signed it over to
you. You will not have a pervert living under my roof."

	It took me a few minutes to realize what he had said. The trailer
didn't belong to me. It was still his possession, and he was forbidding me
to let my brother live here with me.

	Then it hit me. He had said the word pervert. He hadn't said Mark's
name, but the implication was all too clear. He had called Mark a pervert
to his face. This shouldn't have shocked me. I knew exactly what he thought
of homosexuals. I just couldn't believe that he would say such a thing
about his own son.

	I couldn't respond for a few moments. I didn't know what to say to
him at first. I wanted to say so many things at the same time. It was
difficult to chose which one to say first.

	"Did you hear what I said, Nicholas?" he demanded. "Don't just sit
there and stare at me like an idiot."

	"No, Dad," I said, interrupting him. "I am not an idiot. But I
think that you just might be. You call Mark a pervert and forbid me to let
him live here. You said that you would not have a pervert living under your
roof."

	"That's exactly what I said," he replied. I could tell that he was
getting more agitated every second.

	"Well, then I think there is something that you should know, Dad,"
I said, not knowing where all of the courage that was surging through me
had come from. "You see, there has been a pervert living under your roof
the entire time."
	"Don't . . ."

	"Be very careful what you say, Dad," I said quickly. "You have
already lost one son. You are coming dangerously close to losing
another. You see, I am gay, too."

	His hands tightened into fists. I could see the struggle in his
face. Anger had seized him, and he was not dealing well with it at all. I
knew that he wanted to scream, but for some reason, he was silent.

	"I will not have you sit there and lie to me," he said finally.

	"I am not lying to you, Dad," I said. "I am as queer as a three
dollar bill."

	"You will not tell me this," he said. "You are only saying this to
help your brother. That is not acceptable."

	"I don't care what you find acceptable anymore," I said. "I am gay,
and there is nothing that you can do about it. I have already seen the way
you treat Mark because of his sexuality, so I know that you won't treat me
any better."

	"You filthy . . ."

	"I told you to be careful what you said," I said coldly. "I am not
Mark, and you do not scare me. Do you know how much trouble you could get
into for throwing Mark out of the house? Do you care? Believe me, Dad, I
don't want anything to do with you."

	"You will not talk to me this way in my own house," he said. He was
shaking now. I had never seen him so angry in all of my life.

	"This is not your house, Dad," I said, not really sure that I
should head down this path, but unable to stop myself. "This is my house."

	"I own this trailer, Nicholas," he said. "You will move yourself
right out of this trailer immediately. I won't have filth living in
anything that I own."

	"Now, see, that's where you are wrong," I said. "If you own the
trailer, then that makes you my landlord. That means that you must give me
an eviction notice."

	"I'll do no such thing," he yelled. "I will throw you out with my
bare hands!"

	"You will sit in a jail cell when you are finished," I
said. "Believe me, Dad, I will follow through with that threat."

	"Nick," said Mark, trying to intercede.

	"No, Mark," I replied. "I will not let him get away with this. We
are his sons, and if he isn't man enough to accept us anymore, then he will
have to do things the legal way."

	"You ungrateful . . ."

	"No, Dad," I said. "I am not ungrateful. I am gay. You can't evict
me for that. You can try to evict me for not paying rent, but then there is
no lease, so I don't think you will get away with that."

	"I want you out!" he screamed.

	"And I will be," I snapped. "But I will find somewhere else to live
before I leave."

	My father got up, and I was afraid for a moment. I didn't know what
he was going to do. Just when I thought we were going to come to blows, he
walked to the door.

	"You have not heard the end of this one, Nicholas," he said. He
pronounced my name as if it were a sickening disease.

	"Don't push too hard, Dad," I said, pronouncing the word just the
way he had pronounced my name. "You will fail."

	He yanked the door open and slammed it so hard on his way out that
the latch didn't catch.

(to be continued)