Date: Mon, 17 Feb 2003 20:00:47 -0500
From: Jim Reeve <senorjota2006@hotmail.com>
Subject: Forbidden Love: Chapter 5

__Before I start, Brent's father's name is Marc. Knowing
his name will help the story flow, rather than always
referring to him as Brent's father. ENJOY!___

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

A beam of light penetrated the window shade, and entered the large
bedroom of a rich young man, age 16. The light beam stopped on a large
bed where two tangled boys had shared one another's love the night
before. Both seemed drained of energy, for the bed side alarm clock was
beeping loudly, but neither awoke. Several minutes passed, and one of
the boys stirred, but did not awaken. The blare of the alarm muffled the
sound of a door clicking, and in through the front door walked a rich
businessman who seemed to have much depression that faded into liquor
bottles over the night. Still drunk, he staggered into the house, and
proceeded to his son's bed room where he usually bashed his remaining
sorrows into his son's head with his fist...

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Ryan's body lay limply in the arms of Brent. The room was quite dim, but
for one beam of light that had squeezed past the window shade. Ryan and
Brent's bodies were clung together, mostly by Ryan. Brent's muscular
arms were around Ryan's body, but Ryan seemed to be holding on, as if
they would be pried apart. Ryan's cheek lay on Brent's chest, his left
arm around Brent's very-lower back and his right arm also on Brent's
smooth chest. His stomach, because of his position on the bed, was
against Brent's warm, limp cock, and his own cock on Brent's thigh. His
legs, as he loved them to be, were tangled among Brent's. His hair
covered lower leg rubbed against Brent's even as they slept. Ryan
opened his eyes very slightly, and took a deep breath of Brent's scent,
that scent he forever loved. Then he shut his eyes again, not noticing
the alarm, screaming as loud as a fog horn, not five feet away.
Suddenly, Brent's door flung open and in walked Brent's over-muscular
father wearing a tattered business suit and a very loosened tie. Ryan
and Brent awoke, and shot straight up. When Ryan realized who it was, a
wave of fear ran over his body. The man stood in the doorway shouting
words of verbal abuse, then approached the bed. Brent looked around for
anything to defend him and Ryan. He reached over Ryan and grabbed the
loud alarm. He ripped it out of the wall, thus turning off the beeping
alarm, but Ryan had wished he left it in. Marc's words could now be
heard clearly. For Brent the words were all too familiar. The swearing,
the mocking, but never to this degree. Though this became a weekend
routine, his father's drunken voice still instilled fear into his body,
and he wanted to run, run away with Ryan.

"Jesus Christ Brent!" He slurred in a drunken tone.

"You're, you're sleeping with a guy? Holy shit, why the...(hic) fuck did
you have to bring home some fag slut? I'm gonna kill both of
you...fucking queers." He advanced toward the bed still spewing strands
of extremely hateful words.

"Get the fuck outta here dad. I'm not gonna take your shit
today." Brent said with tears forming in his eyes.

He had finally had enough of his father's abuse. Previously he felt, for
some reason, he deserved the ill treatment, but Ryan was here now, and to
guard him was all he wanted to do. He brought Ryan into a dangerous
situation, he should have known better. It was his fault, and he had to
do something about it. Apparently he was more confident with two large,
strong 16 year olds there, yet Ryan doubted they could handle his massive
father, even in a drunken state. He kept coming at them and Ryan
shuffled on his butt to the back of the bed. Marc reached the bed, and
reached to the bottom and grabbed Ryan's foot. With great strength he
pulled Ryan over, close to him and raised his arm high in the air. Ryan
lowered his face into the bed near Brent's butt, and cowered, he waited,
but the blow didn't come, what did come was Brent. He lowered his body
over Ryan and took a sharp blow to the back. He arched his back and
winced in pain. His father raised his arms again to hit Ryan. Ryan took
the alarm from Brent and threw it at Brent's father with all the strength
he had in him. It hit the raging man on the face, and he drew back,
stunned. Brent lay on the bed in extreme pain, and moaned in agony.
Ryan knew he'd have to do this without help, so he took advantage of
Marc's moment of stun, and exploded off the bed. He lowered a shoulder
and blew into Marc so hard that the man fell backward, hitting his head
on the floor, and passed out.


Ryan turned to Brent. He sat on the bed next to him, and examined his
back where he had taken the blow. It was red, and seemed to be in bad
shape.

"Brent, we gotta get outta here, you're dad's gonna wake up soon, and you
gotta get your back checked out."

"No." Brent groaned "I'm used to this." He groaned again as he tried to
roll over and face Ryan.

"Let's just get outta here."

Marc began to come back to his senses, and consciousness. Ryan panicked.
He grabbed a pile of clothes from the floor, and raised Brent up. Ryan
bent down, and let Brent place a hand on his shoulder for balance, as
Ryan pulled some briefs up over his legs, not really knowing whom they
belonged to. All he cared about was getting out of there. Then he
pulled a pair of baggy jeans onto Brent, not bothering to buckle the
belt, and set him on the bed. Ryan then pulled on his own pants. Brent
stood up and began to walk for the door.

"Let's get the hell outta here before that bastard wakes up." he said.

Ryan tried to help Brent down the stairs, but Brent wouldn't let him.
Ryan headed for the front door, but Brent told him to take his car.
After making sure he had his keys and Brent's keys, and the bundle of
miscellaneous clothes he grabbed from the floor, they walked out the
garage door. Before exiting the kitchen Brent grabbed the longest
butcher knife in the kitchen, then hobbled out. In the garage were two
convertibles. Marc drove a sharp, red Sebring. Brent walked over to
it's front left tire and jabbed the knife into it, then the front right
tire and jabbed a deep hole in it too. Air hissed out of the tires as
Ryan and Brent climbed into Brent's BMW convertible- Ryan in the driver
seat. Brent took a second to ease in.

"Why the hell is the top off this thing in the winter?" Ryan asked

"Shit,I forgot, I leave it off, let me go grab a couple coats. I'm
usually wearing one, so it doesn't matter."

"Forget it, let's just go."

Ryan was freezing cold, wearing only jeans and socks. He didn't really
have time to get anything else on. He looked over at Brent who was also
shirtless. Most of the car ride was spent in utter silence. It was
strange for them to experience an uncomfortable silence like this. Ryan
looked over at Brent. He was trying to keep himself warm. Ryan sifted
through the clothes and found a single tight, white tee shirt. He handed
it to Brent.

"Warm up, bud, we're almost there."

Brent pulled the shirt over his head, and cranked up the heat, which did
hardly any good. About a mile from his house, Ryan pulled over. He got
out of the car and spent a few minutes trying to get the top of the BMW
on. Finally, with Brent shouting instructions, he accomplished his goal,
and went back into the car where the heat was already blasting.

"OK Brent, bend over and let me see your back. My mom is a nurse, or
was, I think I'm gonna ask her if it's ok."

"As long as I don't have to go to the hospital or anything."

"Sorry bud, but you just might have to. You're dad really fucked you up
back there. That woulda been my face... Thanks."

The words squeaked out of Ryan, hardly. It was a brand new feeling for
him to be looked after like this.

"Well," said Brent sitting up straight after Ryan had rubbed and
inspected his back for some time, "Better my back than your cute face."

They laughed for a moment, and Ryan re-started the car and headed for
home.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***


Brent was lying flat on Ryan's sofa, with his shirt off, back up, and
Ryan's mother, Jennie, she had told him to call her, was examining his
back.

"Well," she said, "You don't need to go to the hospital, but it's gonna
be sore for a bit. Just ice it and, here, use this massager on it and it
will be fine."

She handed him and electric massager and smiled.

"Oh, Brent." She said, as he and Ryan were about to head up to Ryan's
room. "How did you get that bruise? It's pretty bad."

Brent stood sheepishly, not wanting to tell her about the experience.

"Go ahead up to my room Brent, I'll explain this. Second door on the
right. I'll be up in a minute."

Brent trotted up the stairs, pulling his shirt back on and Ryan sat down
on a nearby kitchen chair.

"Mom, last night I spent the night at Brent's, and his father came home
drunk this morning. He went after Brent, and he hit him. Do ya- do you
think that Brent could stay with us? He's really shaken up, and this
isn't the first time it's happened. He said his dad wouldn't mind."

Ryan's mother gave him a sympathetic look.

"Alright", she said hesitantly.

"He can sleep on the sofa in your room. You get upstairs and help him
settle down. Give him a Tylenol and tell him to stay in bed."

"Thanks mom." Ryan yelled as he ran up the stairs.

He grabbed some aspirin from the medical chest in his bathroom and went
into his room, which was connected to the bathroom by a small slider
door. Brent was sitting on the bed. Ryan explained that he would be
staying with them until things calmed down. He walked over to the bed
and knelt down by Brent. He began to unbuckle his jeans, but Brent
insisted he do it himself. He Stripped to his briefs, and removed his
shirt. Ryan pulled back the covers on his bed and Brent lowered himself
under them. After locking the door and yelling to his mom that they were
napping, Ryan stripped to nothing and climbed into bed next to Brent. He
scootched very close to Brent and hugged him tight. Brent rolled to face
him their lips almost touching.

"Ryan, I really screwed things up last night...or this morning. I
shouldn't have had you over, I knew he could have come home, I just
thought you'd be gone by then... I'm sorry."

For the first time ever, and one of the only times in their long
relationship Ryan saw a tear streak down Brent's face.

"It's fine Brent, you didn't know he'd be home early, and you even set
the alarm, we didn't wake up, it's no one's fault...but ya know what?
Last night was worth it. It was great."

Ryan kissed Brent's lips lightly.

"So I'm living here now...for a bit, huh?" Brent asked

"Yeah, it's gonna be great, once that damn back of yours heals. We'll
have a lot of fun. We're gonna need to get you some stuff today."

"Like some sleep. God, I feel like I got really plasteredlast night."

Brent rolled over to fall asleep and Ryan began to massage his back where
he got hit. Ryan massaged the bruise out and pulled himself close enough
to spoon with Brent and he too fell asleep. Sometime while they where
sleeping Ryan rolled over, and Brent ended up with his arms around Ryan.
It seemed this was the way it belonged, Brent protecting Ryan, and they
were fine with this, knowing that the role could switch if needed. Waves
of emotion crashed over their bodies as they lay in the warm bed. More
exhausted than they knew from the previous night of emotional drainage
and safe once again they slept soundly.


Hope you enjoyed:)