Date: Wed, 8 Mar 2000 15:41:35 -0800 (PST)
From: Dewey <dewey2k@yahoo.com>
Subject: For the Love of Pete Chapter 4

This story is a work of erotic fiction involving teenage boys partially
based on real people and events.  Names have been changed to protect the
guilty as well as the innocent.  All the usual rules apply.  If you
shouldn't be reading this now, then don't continue on.

Copyright Notice - This story is copyright by the author and the author
retains all rights.  You may distribute copy, or print this story however
you like, PROVIDED this copyright notice remains intact and you do not
change the story in any way.  Also you may not charge any fee to anyone to
distribute or access this story.

For the Love of Pete Chapter Four

I had finished packing quite a while ago, and now, just before falling
asleep, I lay thinking about what my dad had said.  Neither one of us
showed much emotion.  I didn't show anything to protect myself.  (If you
don't let them see you cry, they don't know they got to you, right?).  My
dad did it so he didn't HAVE to feel anything.  I hoped that I wouldn't get
to that point.  I wouldn't be able to live with myself then. It was hard
enough now.

My dad had said he was proud of me, too.  That was the first time I
remember him saying that to either of us kids.  What I still didn't
understand is why they chose now to make these radical changes.

I had a weird dream that night.  I was somewhere that I recognized as home,
but it wasn't my house.  My mom told me that Pete needed me more than she
did, so she was sending me away to be with him, and I was never coming
back.  She had packed my bags and was shoving out the door.  Brenda was
there to pick me up.  As Mom opened the car door, I remember she
specifically said, "I'm tired of taking care of you.  You have to take care
of yourself now."  Dad was watching TV as I left the house and didn't even
acknowledge that I was there or that I was leaving.  Dawn was throwing a
party in the dining room.  Not much made sense, really.  I woke up before I
actually got to Pete's place, groggy and exhausted.

School the next day went pretty well, except for the usual run-ins with
Brent and the pack.  He took the opportunity to knock my books out of my
hand, slam my locker door closed just after I had opened it- twice.  The
usual taunts and insults.  I was SO glad that the year was effectively
over.  I could forget about Brent and concentrate on Pete!

I turned in that essay I had written and Mr. Young graded it on the spot-
B+.  Exactly what I figured. Minimal effort and a decent grade.

Pete and I did the usual stuff at lunch, that is, we skipped out and went
to the bleachers, just nattering on about what we were going to do
tomorrow.  Nothing intimate was discussed.  I don't think we were ready for
that.  We were just two boys dreaming up mischief and planning destruction.

The warning bell rang and lunch ended.  Classes went quickly that
afternoon, surprisingly.  There was no work to speak of in any of my
afternoon classes.  I spent most of the time drawing landscapes in pencil.
I wasn't good, but I enjoyed it.

At last, the bell ending the school day went off.  I sprinted to my locker,
trying to get there before Brent could find me, and so I could get my bag
and meet Pete at his locker before we headed for the bus.  Luck was with
me, and I didn't catch sight of him or the pack.

I found Pete talking to Chris.  Pete was throwing handfuls of papers into a
trashcan he had moved to his locker. Apparently they had finished their
conversation by the time I got there, because Chris turned away, heading
down the hall.

"Hey Brian, Howzit going?"  he said as he walked away, headed for his
locker.

"Fine.  Talk to you later, Chris.  You ready, Pete?

"Just about.  I have to take home some of this crap in here so I don't have
to deal with it next week.  Man! Where did all this come from?"  He was
pulling out old assignments and junk that had accumulated in the bottom of
his locker over the course of the year.  A piece of paper in one of the
handfuls caught my attention.  It was covered with bright red hearts and
fancy letters.  I though it was a valentine or something that Ashley had
given him.  As I looked closer, I thought I saw my name in one of the
hearts.

Now curious, I made a grab for the paper before Pete could toss it into the
trash, and ended up knocking the whole handful to the ground, scattering it
across the hallway.

"Smooth move.  What did you do that for?"

"I thought I saw something with my name on it."

"I don't know what it could have been.  These are just old assignments
and.." His eye caught the paper I was looking for and he MOVED.  I had
never seen him move like that, so fast he was a virtual blur.  He quickly
buried that colored paper underneath others as he picked them up from the
hall floor, trying to hide it from my view.  He continued to gather up the
papers I had knocked out of his hand.

I casually stepped in front of the trashcan, blocking Pete's access to it.
When Pete turned around to throw the pile in the trash, I just held out my
hand. He said, "What?" and tried to give me an innocent look, but failed
miserably.  I just stood there with a knowing grin on my face and my hand
out.

He quickly looked around.  Seeing no one was near enough to overhear us, he
rifled through the stack and lifted the papers slightly so I could see what
was written.  There really wasn't a bunch of words like I though, but just
doodles and lines.  But here and there was my name stylized with flourishes
and a few hearts here and there.  Then I saw something that warmed my
heart.  In tiny script, Pete had written "I love Brian" over and over again
to form one of the hearts.  He must have spent hours on this.  I also
noticed that it had, at one point, been torn into several pieces.  The
paper had been taped together very carefully, so that the tears weren't
noticeable unless examined closely.

I pointed out the tape and asked, "What happened?"

He covered up the drawing, and then took it out of the stack, sandwiched
with two or three other papers.  He carefully placed it in his backpack as
he answered me.

"Ashley found that in my locker one day.  I had forgotten I hid it in one
of my books one night when my dad came in.  I took it out before going to
class and Ashley got into my locker.  She had my combo, you know?"  I
nodded as ice formed in my gut.  "She ripped it to shreds. At first she
thought it was for her.  Then she saw your name.  That's why we broke up.
I told her I was gay.  As if she couldn't figure it out when I couldn't get
it up."  He kicked at the floor, his head down.  "I told her that you
didn't know I loved you or that I was gay.  I told her I was sorry.  She
just turned around and left me there, standing in the parking lot.  She
hasn't spoken to me since, except to say she won't tell anyone.  Now she
won't even look me in the eye."  Pete was obviously uncomfortable telling
me this.  He stood there staring at the floor shifting from side to side,
not sure if he should stand still or run.  He glanced up at me to see my
reaction, held my gaze for an instant, and dropped his eyes again.

"Hey.  I don't care what happened between you two. What I do care about is
you and how you feel."  I placed my hand on his shoulder and gave it a good
squeeze, continuing at just above a whisper.  "It makes me feel great that
you love me, even if I can't show it or show you that I love you back."  He
raised his head and looked me in the eyes once more.  "I just want you to
know that I love you too.  I'm not going anywhere.  And I want that drawing
for my scrapbook."

He smiled and nodded his head in agreement.  His face fell, however, as we
heard the busses pull away from the school.  "Oh, shit!  We missed the
bus!"

"Don't worry, I'll get my mom to take us over to your place.  C'mon, lets
head to my house."

" 'K.  Just gimme a sec to finish this up."  He continued to empty papers
into the trash.  When he had finished, he closed his locker and we walked
the mile or so to my house, chattering like magpies.

Pete called his mom, told her he had missed the bus, and that I would ask
my mom to bring us over later.  She said to call back if my mom couldn't
bring us, for what ever reason.  Pete hung up just as Dawn walked in.

"Oh, the lovebirds are here."  I heard a snicker behind her.  She stepped
aside to reveal he friend Darlene, another of my favorite people.  "Why
don't you two get out of here.  Your supposed to be at your boyfriends
house anyway Brian!"  It was stated as an accusation, like I was purposely
trying to ruin her good time or something.

I cocked my head at her like I had heard something off in the distance and
then turned to Pete.  "You hear something?  I though I heard a dog
yapping."

Dawn took a couple of step toward me and raised her fist to hit me.  "Shut
up, you asshole!"  She took a swing that I easily avoided.  I quickly
backed out of her reach and turned toward my room, motioning Pete to follow
me.

Again, the urge to get in the parting shot was too much to ignore.  "Yup.
I was right. A dog yapping."  She started toward me again, following us
down the hall.  Just as I got to my room, I said, "And from the sound of
it, it's a bitch in heat."  I shut my door quickly and leaned against it to
brace for the storm that was sure to come.  I had no sooner set myself than
the door shuddered with her impact.

Again and again she tried to force the door with her shoulder, screaming
obscenities and pronouncing dire fates that awaited me when she got her
hands on me.  It was all I could do to hold the laughter in and hold the
door shut.  Pete was rolling on my bed with suppressed mirth, grinning his
fool head off.

Dawn finally stopped bashing herself into the door and started pounding it
with her fist.  Three or four punches was all it took to put a
baseball-sized hole the door.  I knew instantly what had happened.  I took
a calculated risk, opened my door, and seeing no blood, quickly shut it
again.

"Dad's gonna kill you Dawn.  That's the second door this year!"

"Shut up you bastard."  She and her bitch of a friend slithered off to
concoct a story that would somehow change this incident to be my
responsibility.

As she walked down the hall, Pete could contain himself no more.  He
started laughing so hard he had tears rolling down his cheeks.  The more he
looked at me, the harder he laughed.  I sat down on the bed, took him by
the shoulders, and kissed him squarely on the mouth.  His laughing stopped
immediately, replaced by random giggles as we kissed deeply, exploring each
others lips and mouth.

We were interrupted a few minutes later with the sound of the front door
closing.  Mom was home, most likely, or maybe Dawn and Darlene had gone
outside.  Nope, Dawn's yowling was loud and clear as she reported my
transgressions.  A few moments later I heard my mom's voice as she silenced
Dawn's diatribe.

My door opened and Mom looked in.  She took another look at the hole
through the door and then back at us.  "Hello Pete."

"Hi Mom," we chorused.  She liked it when my friends called he Mom.  It
cleared up the confusion and eliminated the cumbersome "Mrs. Kellam".

"I see there has been a war in the short time you've been home.  Why do you
provoke her, Brian?  She said you walked in on her and started calling her
a bitch."  The flip side of Pete calling her Mom was that she reamed me out
in front of him.  "Well, what is your version?"

I opted to tell the truth, again.  "Pete and I got here just ahead of the
girls.  She walked in and started calling us boyfriend and stuff.  It made
me angry.  I didn't start it this time."  I looked her straight in the eye.
A long time ago, I had learned that this was how she told if I was lying or
not.

"Well, okay.  Just try not to make your sister so angry, and I'll tell her
to leave you alone.  Come to that, why ARE you still here.  You were
supposed to ride the bus out to Pete's, weren't you?"

"We missed the bus and walked here.  Mrs. Jameson said she would come and
pick us up if you couldn't drive us out."

"Get ready to go. I am going to talk to Dawn really quick. I'll meet you in
the car."

I got up from the bed, Pete following.  We grabbed our bags and headed out
to the car.  As we passed Dawn and Darlene, they glared at us.  Darlene was
actually pissed at me because I called Dawn a bitch.  Next time I would
have to remember to include her in the insult.

Mom waited until we were out the door before speaking to the girls, but I
did hear a loud "MOOoooOMMMM!" so I knew Dawn wasn't pleased with what she
was told.  I chuckled as Pete did the same.

Mom came out of the house, and before she shut the door, she looked in and
said "I mean what I said Dawn.  No more."  Closing the door, she walked to
the car, a look of irritation on her face.  Then her expression changed to
one of concern "What am I going to do with you two?"  I didn't answer. I
don't think she really expected one. At least I hoped she didn't.  And why
the concerned look?  Did she suspect something?  Man, I really could drive
myself crazy with this paranoia.

The drive up to Pete's place went by quickly.  We rode in silence the whole
way, not wanting to provoke Mom further or prompt her to ask questions I
didn't want to answer.  When we got to Pete's, she smiled and told us to
have a good time.  She also reminded me to watch my manners.  I assured her
I would.

Pete's house was a moss green three story, looking like two levels from the
front and the third, lower level opening to the back yard about ten feet
below, kind of like a basement.  The bottom floor was the playroom, as they
called it.  That was where Pete and I messed around when we were stuck
inside.  The front yard was well groomed and had several old fir trees
around the perimeter of the lawn.  They had been left there during
construction.  The house had an attached two car garage and a separate
three car garage/workshop off to the left side.  The driveway from both
garages attached to the road which made a loop around a huge fir tree in
front of the house.  The area around the house that wasn't lawn was cleared
of underbrush so the feel was open forest.  The back yard was fenced in by
a wooden slat fence about six feet high.  It was still wide enough to have
a decent game of football, though.

We went in the front door, Pete calling to his mom and letting know we were
here.  She came out and greeted me, asking me how I was, and inquiring
about my parents as well.  I made the appropriate responses and headed to
Pete's bedroom, where we dumped our bags.

We changed out of our clothes and into riding gear.  I watched Pete as he
stripped down to his underwear.  I stood there in a daze and just stared at
his perfect body.  Pete, of course, noticed that I had stopped undressing
and was staring.  He took the opportunity to strut his stuff and finished
taking his clothes off in a seductive, erotic manner.  He had his desired
effect and giggled when he saw my shorts tenting.  I broke out of my
reverie and smiled shyly.  As he pulled on his riding gear, I finished
undressing.

As I took off my pants and got ready to put on a pair of jeans,
Mrs. Jameson opened the door.  Of course, I was still hard and yelped as I
stood up to hide that fact from here.  Pete looked up at his mom with
annoyance and said "Jeez, Mom, why can't you ever knock?"

She responded, "You haven't got anything I haven't seen before."

I wanted to say "I do!" but thought better of it.

"You boys don't go far, because we are having an early dinner.  Your father
and I have some things to do this evening.  I want you in the house for the
night before we leave.  Pete, I'd like to talk to you for a minute before
you go.  Could you come with me, please?"

He got up and followed her out of the room, a wary look on his face.  I
waited until he got out of the room and finished dressing in my jeans,
hiking boots and a heavy shirt.  I waited for him to return.

Pete came back about ten minutes later, looking depressed.  He collapsed
more than sat on his bed, giving me a look I can only call fear.  I moved
over to sit by him, but he stopped me with a glance, motioning me to shut
the door he had left open.

Shutting the door, I turned back and sat next to him.  "Mom is going to
tell Dad.  She said she couldn't keep it from him, that he deserved to
know.  Brian, he will kill me.  I mean it!  He will literally kill me!
What am I going to do?"  He looked at me, despondent.

His assessment was pretty accurate as far as I could tell.  His father
probably would try to kill him, or at least beat the shit out of him.  I
didn't know what Pete's mom would do, either.

I slid down to the floor, crouching in front of Pete on one knee.  I put my
hands on his and gripped them tightly.  Looking deeply into his eyes, I
felt something I had never experienced before.  I wanted to protect him, to
take him into my arms and shield him from his fathers wrath.  I wanted to
make him feel safe, secure. I wanted him to know how much I loved him, at
that moment, with every fiber of my being.

"Pete," He lowered his eyes as I began to speak.  I released his hand and
raised his face, so he was looking in my eyes once more.  "If your dad
wants to kill you, he is going to have to kill me, too.  I won't let him
hurt you without a fight. I will do everything I can possibly do to protect
you, even if it means I have to die, too."  He shook his head, trying to
negate what I was saying, tried to speak, but I gently stopped him with my
fingertips on his lips.  "I mean what I say. You mean more to me than
anything.  I won't lose you.  I won't let it happen. And I have never meant
something as much as I mean this.  We are in this together."

As tears formed in his eyes, I leaned forward and embraced him around the
waist.  He wrapped his arms around my head and squeezed me, confirming his
love for me.

I heard Joe walk in the front door.  He entered with his usual bluster,
yelling to tell the world who had arrived. I glanced up at Pete and could
see fear clouding his visage once more.  I gave him another quick squeeze,
letting him know I was there.

Suddenly I was angry. Beyond angry.  How could she do this to Pete tonight?
I was visiting and she didn't care that I was here.  Well, it was a good
thing I was there.  I needed to protect Pete.

"Let's get out of here.  I want to ride."  Pete spoke with resignation in
his voice.

"It'll be okay, bud.  I'll be with you no matter what happens. And if we
have to, we'll walk to my place.  You'll be safe there. We- will- be-
okay!"  I spoke with conviction and resolve.  I could see his expression
begin to have some confidence in it, but not a lot.  He was afraid of his
dad, and rightly so.

We went out to the workshop and pulled out the dirt bikes.  We put on our
helmets and started them up. They were small Yamaha 80's, and that is all I
knew about them.  They had enough power for a thrilling ride, but not so
much to make me feel out of control.

As Brenda had requested, we stayed near, tearing up and down the trails
near the house.  We passed the trail that wound around for about twelve
miles and ended up about 500 yards from my house several times. I noticed
Pete looked down that trail several times as we passed it, like he was
considering making a run for it.  He never did, though.  One time he
stopped at the trail's head and sat there staring up the trail.  I pulled
up beside him and killed my engine.  He killed his and then said, just loud
enough for me to hear through my helmet, "I don't want to do this, Bri. Why
did I tell her?  This wouldn't be happening if I hadn't told her."

I put my hand on his leg. "You wouldn't have told me, either, and we
wouldn't be together. We WILL be together, no matter what happens.  Even if
we have to run away, we will be together.  You and I are together, now and
forever. I love you.  Don't you dare forget that."

" I love you too.  I don't want you to get hurt. Maybe you should go home.
My dad is going to be majorly pissed off."

"No.  I am not going anywhere but with you. We are together. I'm here, and
I'm not leaving.  Even if it means fighting your dad."

He looked at me, hard.  He finally nodded once and started up his bike.  As
I started mine, he popped a wheelie and rode off down the path..

We rode for about an hour more and then we saw Brenda flagging us in..  As
we coasted down the drive, she motioned Pete over to her.  I followed him
up to her and stopped on the other side of Pete, facing Brenda.  Killing my
engine, I quickly removed my helmet so I could hear what was said.  Pete
was a bit slower than I was, giving me time.

"I want to speak to Pete for a moment, if you don't mind, Brian."  It was a
dismissal. I was immediately white hot. I wanted to hit her, but contained
myself.  I leaned forward and gave her the most menacing look a thirteen
year old can muster.

"If this is about the conversation you are going to have with Joe, I do
mind.  I'm not leaving Pete alone. We are together."

She was flabbergasted. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish a few times
before she found her voice again.

"Call your mother and tell her to come get you.  I'll speak with her
after."

"No, ma'am, I won't do that.  Pete's safety is much too important to me to
allow you to send me home for this.  You may not understand what I said
earlier.  I said we are together, and I meant it. He is the best friend I
have, and more.  I want to be here to protect him.  I WILL be here to
protect him.  You can't tell me with out a doubt that Joe won't attack him-
us.

"Yes, I am gay, too.  The only reason I tell you is because I want you to
know where I am coming from.  If you force me to leave, I will call Child
Protective Services if Pete has so much as a scratch.  You can NOT change
my mind.  This is too important."

Having recovered from her shock, she studied me closely, glaring into my
eyes.  I met her gaze impassively, determination written on my face.  She
sized me up and weighed my words for a good thirty seconds, Pete shifting
uncomfortably the whole time.

"Does your family know?"  I shook my head.

"You are the first after Pete."

"How do you know you love each other? I assume you think you do."

"I don't think I love him, Mom, I DO love him. And he loves me."  Pete
spoke quietly but forcefully.  I nodded my head decisively.

"Are you having sex?"  Obvious distaste warred with concern about her son's
well-being.

"No, we aren't yet.  We haven't talked about it."

"Good.  I don't want you to be unsafe.  What happened to make you gay?
What did I do wrong?"  Her eyes were watering up. This wasn't a safe place
to have this conversation.

"Let's go to the workshop so we can put away the bikes." I motioned to the
house suggestively.  Both Pete and Brenda nodded.

Reaching the workshop, I dismounted and rolled the bike into the stall Joe
had built for it.  Pete rolled his in as soon as I was out of the way.
Pete turned to his mom and answered her question.

"You didn't DO anything wrong. Nothing happened to make me gay.  I just
am. I've known it since I can remember, or put the word with my feelings.
I am the same person, Mom."  She looked at me for some reason, so I nodded.
I guess I hoped it would reassure her.

Looking back and forth between us, she stood there wringing her hands
together, conflicting emotions showing on her face.  Then she lurched
forward, taking Pete into her arms.  They stood together for several long
moments, just clinging to each other.  Brenda looked over to me and held
her arm open wide, inviting me into their embrace.  I didn't hesitate, but
moved to her. She wrapped me in a bear hug, squeezing me and Pete together.
I heard her whispering into Pete's ear, and realizing what she was doing,
spoke so I could hear her also.

"Brian, Pete, I am going to tell you the truth.  This isn't something that
will be easy for me.  I have to adjust how I think, and that may take some
time.  I may say things that are hurtful and not realize it, or say things
out of anger I don't really mean.  I do want you both to know that I love
you very much.  I see how you two feel about each other, and I can accept
that, even welcome it.  And I respect that you want to protect Pete, Brian.
I want to, also.  Tonight isn't going to be easy; I have already told Joe
that we need to talk, and if I cancel, he is going to wonder why.  But I
will be there and I will protect you both.

"Brian, I would expect him to call your parents and tell them almost
immediately.  Are you prepared for that?"  I nodded hesitantly.  "Are you
sure?"

"Yes.  They will find out eventually anyway."

"Okay then.  Lets go eat, and then you two disappear downstairs for a
little while.  I will talk to Joe.  I am sure you will know when he has
been told.  Make sure you have the glass door unlocked, just in case."

She gave us another squeeze and then released us, telling us to get washed
up for dinner.

As Pete and I went to the bathroom to wash up, we decided to leave our
riding pants on for dinner, in case we had to make a hasty retreat
later. We did change into clean shirts, still suitable for riding through
underbrush. All we would have to do is jump on the bikes and ride off.
After some though, we got out backpacks and put our jackets, flashlights
and a sweatshirt in them.  We placed them by the glass door for ease of
escape.

Brenda called us to the table.  If she noticed that we hadn't changed
pants, she gave no sign.

Dinner was the usual boisterous affair, Joe making comments on his day and
asking us if we had girlfriends or were going to the end of school dance,
things like that.  Things that had absolutely no relevance to us.  He also
made a few reference to the "fags" down at the firehouse and how pathetic
they were.  I felt Pete squeeze my leg as Joe ranted on and on.. Neither of
us ate much.  We were too nervous. Joe didn't seem to notice, but I am sure
Brenda did.

Thankfully dinner ended.  Brenda told us she would take care of the dishes,
so we made our way downstairs.  We made sure that all was ready, just in
case.  Then we sat down to wait for judgment.  We didn't have to wait long
either.

Dishes were broken and glasses shattered, silverware was thrown.  The noise
was deafening, but above it all we could hear Joe's enraged voice detailing
what he was going to do when he got his hands on that "no good little
faggot".  I began to get scared as I heard Joe stomp his way toward the
door leading down to where we were, but then I heard Brenda's footsteps
racing over.  She must have blocked him.

Pete had turned a shade of gray I had never seen on a human before.  His
skin looked pasty and he was sweating, swallowing over and over.  I moved
to sit next to him and wrapped my arm around him.  Placing my other hand on
his knee, I held him tightly, letting him know I was there.  He just stared
up the stairs at the door.

"Get out of my way, Brenda!  I have to teach that boy a lesson!  He wants
to be gay does he?  Well, we'll just see after I talk to him!" I heard
Brenda grunt.

"Joe, NO! He's your son!  If you."

"He's no son of mine!  You had your chance to raise him.  He turned out to
be a faggot.  Now I have to teach him to be a man."

The door at the top of the stairs opened and we bolted toward the glass
door.  Pete opened the door and grabbed his pack.  I was right behind him.
I could hear Joe's feet on the stairs.

"Oh no you don't, you little homo, you're not going any where!"

I reached down for my pack and tried to pick it up, but my fingers slipped
and I dropped it.  I reached down and picked it up again, feeling like Joe
was right on top of me.  I took off for the door.  I was almost outside
when I felt a hand close on my jacket collar.

"Joe, NO!"

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