Title: It's Not Who You Were Born To... Part 3: Clarity

Author: Scribe

Fandom: The Lost Boys

Pairing: David/Dwayne/Paul

Feedback: poet77665@yahoo.com

Status: WIP

Sequel/Series: The Non-Traditional Families Series

Archive: Yes, but tell me where.

Disclaimer: Didn't invent 'em, don't own 'em, not making any money off 'em.

Websites: http://www.angelfire.com/grrl/scribescribbles and http://www.angelfire.com/grrl/foxluver

Summary: After a loving night with Paul and David, Dwayne returns to an 'incident' that shows him clearly that you don't always belong with your legal family.

Warnings:

Notes:

Rating: NC-17

It's Not Who You Were Born To, Part Three: Clarity
By Scribe


Dwayne shifted, blinking his eyes open. For a moment he looked around owlishly. He looked very young in his bewilderment as he tried to assimilate his surroundings. His eyes fell on Paul and David, and his expression cleared. He gave them a sheepish smile.. "Sorry. I don't usually conk out after."

Paul shrugged. "Hey, I'm just glad you felt comfortable enough with us to go to sleep." He gave Dwayne a smile, "Are you well rested?"

The dark boy stretched luxuriously. "Mmm... I've never felt so relaxed in my whole life." He reached out and laid one hand on Paul's bare thigh, and the other on David's. "Did you guys get what you needed?" Paul silently lifted Dwayne's hand and moved it up higher, pressing it against his cock. Remembering his lack of success before, Dwayne was still willing to try. He gripped Paul's cock loosely and stoked.

Almost immediately there was a stir against his palm. Dwayne's dark eyes flashed up to Paul's face, surprised. He tightened his grip, massaging strongly, and felt the flesh in his hand firm and thicken. He couldn't restrain the expression of relief that crept over his face.

Paul gently removed Dwayne's hand, but the boy didn't have time to be disappointed because Paul crawled up over him, pushing him back down to the mattress. "Told ya," he murmured, nipping lightly at Dwayne's mouth. "Told you it would be all right once we got what we needed."

He settled between Dwayne's spread legs, pressing his hard-on against Dwayne's still soft cock, and began rocking their pelvises together. "Can you take both of us, Dwayne?" He kissed the smaller boy's throat. "David'll wait if you need him to, but it's so hot, doing it together."

Dwayne had been with two boys in one night before, but always one at a time. The idea of fucking two at once had made him nervous. He thought that he'd feel just a little less than human, like an object, being used. But he didn't feel like that with these two. He knew that they saw him as a person, and not just a warm body.

Dwayne kissed Paul, licking into the moist cavern of his mouth. *He's so much warmer now.* "Yeah, I want it." His hands slid down Paul's back to settle on his ass, squeezing. "I want both of you, now."

"How do you want it?" Paul moved on him, rubbing his cock over Dwayne's crotch and belly. "You're the guest, you get choice."

"Do me like I did you." He reached over and touched David's hip, turning his head to gaze up at him. "I'll suck you, okay? I'm good at that."

"That's more than okay, friend," David said quietly.

Dwayne urged Paul off him, sitting up. "Come on and sit against the head of the bed," he directed. David settled, spreading his legs wide. Dwayne knelt for a moment, looking at him. There were so many similarities and differences between Paul and David. Laying his hands lightly on David's thighs, he said hesitantly, "Are you guys brothers?"

David studied his face carefully. "Would that bother you?"

Dwayne bit his lip. If they were, then they must be committing incest, and Dwayne would be participating. But somehow the idea didn't horrify him, as he had expected it to. In this case, it obviously was NOT a form of exploitation. It seemed to just be an expression of their affection for each other, something to bind them more closely. Finally he said slowly, "No, not really."

David nodded. "We're brothers, but brothers by choice, not birth. WE decided to belong to each other, it wasn't left up to God, or fate, or karma, or whatever the hell you want to call it. WE chose. Family isn't always who you were born to, Dwayne."

Dwayne's voice trembled slightly. "Yeah, that makes a lot of sense."

Dwayne bent down, wrapping his hands around David's prick. He stroked it a couple of times, then lapped softly at the dark, swollen head. David groaned, letting his head fall back against the headboard. "Fuck, kid. You're hotter than anyone I've ever felt before." He stroked his hands through Dwayne's long, dark hair, smoothing it all to dangle over one shoulder. "Need a good view here," he whispered. "Something this beautiful needs to be seen."

Dwayne took the glans in his mouth, sucking steadily. He felt Paul's hands on his ass, and he automatically spread his legs wide, offering free access. His cheeks were parted, and he felt cool, slippery gel smeared down the crack. The greased fingers massaged the bud of his anus firmly while Dwayne started to bob on David's cock. When one fingertip lingered over the pucker, Dwayne impatiently pushed back. The fingertip just barely spread the tiny hole, and Paul laughed. "Okay, impatient!"

Dwayne moaned happily as the long, slender finger slid deep into his back passage. David sighed, carding his hands again through Dwayne's hair. "Mmm, Paul that's doing both of us good. Man, what vibrations."

Paul worked diligently, twisting and pumping, opening Dwayne gently and thoroughly. The dark boy expressed nothing but pleasure as the second finger slipped into him and Paul began to spread them. David leaned forward a little so he could watch Paul finger fucking Dwayne, feeling the younger boy's soft hair tickle his abdomen as he moved, giving him slow, sensuous head.

Dwayne took hold of David's scrotum and massaged it carefully, rolling the firm balls in the velvety sac. David grunted and humped upward, thrusting deeply into Dwayne's mouth, his cockhead bumping the back of Dwayne's throat. Dwayne made a gagging sound, and David quickly cupped his face, pulling him up off his cock. "Damn, buddy, I'm sorry. I got carried away."

Dwayne smiled at him. "It's all right." He leaned into David's touch, pressing his cheek more firmly into the older boy's palm. "You didn't do it on purpose. You aren't trying to hurt me, and you care whether or not I'm comfortable."

Paul paused in his manipulations, running his free hand up Dwayne's back. He said softly, "Your lovers haven't been very considerate, have they?"

Dwayne looked back at him, dark eyes darker still with emotion, but his voice was flat, "I haven't really had lovers--just fuckers." Then he smiled almost shyly, and Paul thought that if he hadn't been long dead, his heart would have stopped at the boy's beauty. "Till now, anyway."

"I'm going to go inside you now, Dwayne," Paul said. "Let me get seated, then you can start on David again."

"Yeah," Dwayne agreed. "I don't want to slip and bite."

"Biting isn't necessarily always a bad thing, but it's better when it isn't accidental," David said.

He watched as Paul pulled his fingers free of Dwayne's body, then moved up behind the other boy. He pressed the head of his cock against the Dwayne's loosened hole. Paul curved his fingers around Dwayne's hips, stroking the boy's ass with his thumbs. "Fast, or slow?"

Dwayne put his head down, resting his forehead on the mattress, and gripped the sheets. "Slow, man, slow as you can, at least to start."

Paul nudged forward, watching as the broad head of his prick dimpled Dwayne's flesh, the crinkled skin of his anus stretching taut and shiny. The he bumped his hips forward slightly, and the glans popped inside, being fully engulfed in Dwayne's body. Paul's head dropped back, and he moaned at the sensation of liquid heat. There was a temptation to just slam into the welcoming heat. He'd done it before. There were a lot of hungry people out there who WANTED to be taken, needed to be used--but not Dwayne. Dwayne had been bruised--by life and by others, and Paul could relate to that too much to want to be another user.

He slid slowly, slowly into Dwayne's ass, shifting no more than an inch at a time. Dwayne had acknowledged a good bit of experience, but he was as tight as any virgin, and Paul had been with a few in his time. About halfway in Dwayne suddenly shivered, moaning. "Right there," he whispered. "Right there." Paul exchanged a glance with David, smiling, and David nodded his willingness to wait a few more moments.

Paul pulled back a little, and Paul lifted his head, tipping it back so he could look at Paul. "Why are you stopping? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Paul thrust shallowly, angling upward. Dwayne gasped, a hot flush mounting in his cheeks as Paul's cockhead rubbed over his prostate. "Nothing at all." He did it several more times, till Dwayne was scratching at the sheets, making a mewling sound.

Finally he pushed forward till he was balls deep in the hot, sweet grip. He stayed that way for a moment. Dwayne bent forward and took David's cock in his mouth again. As he sank down on the rigid shaft, he shifted, rocking forward, then back, on Paul's impaling prick.

David relaxed, enjoying the sensations that Dwayne was pulling from him with his lips and tongue. He could sense the boy's rising passion through his caresses, the eagerness transferring to his efforts to please the other boy. He stroked Dwayne's hair, curving his head around the back of the gently bobbing skull, and watched Paul as he fucked their new friend.

Usually with the outsiders, Paul was much more brusque, taking what he needed or wanted quickly. But then, they hadn't really met any others like Dwayne. There had been plenty of runaways and throwaways and just plain dissatisfied youths, but Dwayne was somehow different. He hadn't yet reached the point of poison, or numbness. He didn't yet hate the world, and he still believed that there might be someone in it who wouldn't hurt him just because they could. He thought they were rare, but he still believed they existed. That meant that there was a chance that he could be part of a family. He still had something to share.

He had to give up the contemplation soon. All he could think about was how hot and wet Dwayne's mouth was, how soft and agile his tongue, how gently the boy stroked his thighs and sides. For all the harshness that the world had shown him, Dwayne was a generous lover, his own pleasure increased by the pleasure he could bring a considerate lover.

David came first when Dwayne swallowed him to the root, massaging his balls and humming softly. He tried to restrain himself, but couldn't help bucking up into the other boy's mouth. This time, though, Dwayne was ready, and took the thrust without discomfort. He gulped, swallowing as much of the warm gush as he could, but a few drops still trickled from his lips as the softening cock slid out. David lifted Dwayne's head and kissed him deeply, feeling the jar of Paul's thrusts traveling through Dwayne's body. Then he licked away the dribble of his own come as Paul's pumping speeded up.

Dwayne gasped, "Yeah. Let go, Paul! Give it to me!" With that plea, Paul gripped Dwayne harder and began to pound into him, hard and fast. "Oh, God!" Dwayne's arms started to collapse.

Before he could fall face first on the mattress, David caught him. He scooted forward, pulling Dwayne's arms up around his neck. "Hang on, kid." Dwayne gripped him, burying his face against David's neck, feeling each jolt rub him against David's hard, smooth body. David reached down and gripped Dwayne's cock, stroking hard and fast.

David felt warm moisture on his neck, and knew that Dwayne was crying. "Kid?" he said quietly.

"It's just so good. You're so good to me," Dwayne moaned.

David held him tighter. "It's all right. We'll take care of you for as long as you want." Dwayne cried out, and David felt the hot wetness of his sperm slick his hand. He continued stroking, petting the boy as Paul finished. David watched as Paul buried himself deep in Dwayne's body and tensed, head thrown back, long blonde hair trickling down his back. His body jerked once, twice... then he slumped boneless across Dwayne's back, making a sound that was somewhere between a whine and a purr. His hand slid up from Dwayne's hips, sliding around so that he could fully embrace him.

Dwayne knelt there for a long moment, surrounded by the other two boys, feeling cared for for the first time in a long, long while.

Finally Paul pulled out of him. He moved to Dwayne's other side as David pulled the dark haired boy down, then wrapped his arms around Dwayne again. David murmured, "Sleep now. You need it." Dwayne nodded mutely. "We may be gone when you wake up. There's another place we go during the day. Don't worry, we'll leave a candle, and we'll mark the way for you to get back out. Don't come looking for us, okay? This place can be dangerous, even when you know where you're going."

Dwayne nodded again. He was silent for a moment, then said softly, "I can come back?"

David and Paul exchanged looks over the smaller boy's head. "We want you to, but meet us at the boardwalk, okay? Like I said, this place isn't entirely safe." He stroked Dwayne's hair, pushing gently with his willpower, urging the boy to sleep. "There might be someone else wandering around. Someone you wouldn't be ready to meet."

Dwayne wanted to stay awake awhile longer, just enjoying being with the two, but he slipped off to sleep. Usually he was a restless sleeper, but this time he slept deeply--no bad dreams, no tossing and turning.

When he awoke, he was alone. There was a lit candle on the bedside table, stuck upright in a pool of its own wax. It was no more than an inch high, guttering and about to go out. There was another, thicker candle next to it, and Dwayne swiftly lit it from the flickering flame. He blew out the short candle and jammed the fresh one into the liquid wax, waiting till it was set, then got up and dressed. He was a little sorry that the other two boys were gone, but they had warned him that they might be, so he didn't feel abandoned.

Once he was clothed again he pried the candle up and went out into the hall. There was a big arrow chalked on the wall across from the room, with the words GOOD MORNING THIS WAY TO DAYLIGHT. He smiled, and began to make his way out of the maze of corridors. Every time he came to a branching of ways there was another arrow, and he quickly got to the lobby. At the far end he could see faint daylight filtering down from the entrance hole. He glanced back at the darkened interior, thinking of Paul and David, wishing he could go back inside and locate them, spend another hour or two snuggled between them. Finally he blew out the candle and put it on the desk, then made his way outside.

It was still early enough for the light to be more gray than golden, and the air was damp and chilly with the ocean spray. The three bikes were still parked behind the bush. Dwayne rolled his out to the road, mounted, and headed back toward town at a leisurely pace. He only had a little change left in his pocket, and he was hungry, wanting his breakfast, but he was still reluctant to go home.

*Jake should be sleeping it off by now,* he thought. *And maybe he's cooled off. Maybe. I'll just have to be quiet. I wish this wasn't the weekend. I'd go clear out my bank account and stash it, just in case.* He'd made some money working last year for a yard service. Not much, only a couple of hundred, but he'd socked it all away. Things were getting worse, and something inside him had said that he'd better start getting ready to leave, maybe even before he was legal.

He cut the motor before he entered his block, and walked the bike toward his house, slowing as he neared. There was only one car parked in the double driveway--his mother's. *Christ, you mean that Jake LEFT, as fucked up as he was? He wouldn't have gotten up this early after all the booze he pounded down last night.* A cautious hope flickered in Dwayne's breast. *Maybe he finally got pissed off enough and decided to leave for good.* The hope died immediately, and he sighed. *Yeah, right. He might try to throw Mom and me out, but I doubt HE'D leave. He must've gone to a motel to 'punish' Mom.*

He parked the bike behind the house and entered the kitchen quietly, grateful that he hadn't lost his keys in the scramble last night. He stood for a moment, listening carefully. Silence, except for a faint gurgle from his stomach.

He opened a cabinet, thinking that there should be some microwavable stew or chili. His Mom didn't cook much, and there was always an abundance of prepared, pre-packaged foods. He scanned the ranks of cans, and his eyes caught something on the counter, something that glittered. He reached down and picked it up.

It was a tiny shard of glass, no bigger than his pinkie fingernail. Dwayne tilted it, watching the light flash. It was tinted pink. He sighed, looking around the kitchen again. He didn't see any more glass, but then, Mom was a good housekeeper, even when she was upset. ESPECIALLY when she was upset. After a set to with Jake she'd clean like a demon, clearing away any evidence of his often-destructive rages.

Dwayne went to the lidded trashcan in the pantry to dispose of the chip. His boot bumped the can, and he heard a faint, musical jingle, almost like a wind chime. "Oh, fuck," he murmured. He lifted the lid.

The can was half full of broken china, crockery, and glass. Dwayne could make out fragments of the best china, the wine goblets that his mother and father had received as wedding presents, and the glazed clay teapot some long dead relative had gifted the family with. He dropped the chip in with the others, then went back and opened the cabinets, one at a time. As he'd suspected, all the ones that had held plates and glasses were bare. The son of a bitch had broken everything in the kitchen that COULD be broken, then his mother had cleaned up after him. Dwayne shook his head in disgust. *Well, this will give her an excuse to go shopping, I guess. That always seems to make her feel better.*

He'd almost lost his appetite now. Instead of cooking anything, he just grabbed a couple of Lunchables and a soda from the refrigerator, wrapping them in his jacket. He tucked the bundle under his arm and crept through the house. If Jake had reached the glass smashing stage, it would be prudent to stay out of his sight for another day, if he could manage it.

The padlock was still firmly in place on his door. Dwayne unlocked it, wondering if he dared take a quick shower. He felt kind of grungy, but he didn't really want to risk a shower until he was entirely sure of where Jake was and what kind of a mood he was in. He didn't relish the thought of being chased down the block, naked.

Dwayne pushed his door open, dropping his jacket on the table beside the door with the same motion. He was reaching for the light switch when a breeze hit him in the face, and he froze, hand still outstretched. He took a good look at the room, wide-eyed.

The reason that he was feeling a breeze was because his window was broken. He could see glass glittering on the floor, and the blinds were hanging lopsided, half ripped from the wall. He could just see what looked like two side-by-side poles outside his window, leaning against the sill. *A ladder,* he thought numbly. *The son of a bitch got a ladder, climbed up, and broke in!* He glanced around confusedly, wondering why his room wasn't any more trashed than it was.

That was when Jake stepped out from where he had been hiding, on the other side of the door. Before Dwayne could react, the bigger man had wrapped his fist in the boy's tee shirt, drawn back his fist, and punched him in the face.

Pain exploded in Dwayne's skull, and he dropped, stunned by the blow. Or tried to drop. Jake kept his grip on Dwayne's shirt. He used his grip on the stretching, ripping material to drag the boy over to his bed and toss him on the mattress.

Dwayne half landed on something rounded and hard. It rolled out from under him, and he caught a glimpse of it. It was an empty vodka bottle. *Oh, shit! He's been sitting up here in my locked room, waiting for me and drinking.*

Jake loomed over him. His usually neatly coiffed hair stuck out at all angles, and his eyes were bloodshot. He had a heavy beard growth, sometimes shaving twice a day if he had an evening engagement, and now he had dark stubble along his jaw and on his cheeks. His once crisp shirt and slacks were rumpled, and Dwayne saw a streak of what was probably vomit down one sleeve. He smelled bad. He smelled of booze, sweat, vomit, and a sharp tang that Dwayne had come to associate with rage. He looked as scary and dangerous as any blue-collar alkie who'd ever been tanked after cracking someone's head in a bar room brawl. His colleagues would never have recognized him, but it was a look with which Dwayne and his mother were familiar.

The bed was in a corner, so there was really nowhere for Dwayne to go, but he pushed himself back up into the corner, trying to put some space between himself and his still drunken stepfather.

Jake pointed at him. "Who the fuck said you could go anywhere last night, punk? Huh? You're still underage, you do what you're told. Am I right?" Dwayne just glared at him. Jake slapped him, rocking his head back, "I said AM I RIGHT?"

"Yeah." Jake slapped him again. "Yes, sir!"

"That's better. Fuck, I wouldn't be so mad if you didn't know how to act. I mean, maybe your cunt of a mother didn't know shit about raising you right, but you've been under me for more'n three years now. If you haven't gotten your shit together by now, I can just figure that it's nothing but sheer stubbornness on your part. I've about had it. I'm about ready to just throw up my hands on trying to get you to straighten up."

"Fine! You don't have to worry about me any more. I'll just go."

Dwayne started to get up, and Jake put his big hand over the boy's face and shoved him back down. "Like hell you will. You think I'm going to have everyone in town talking about how my kid is some sort of fucking street kid?"

"I'm NOT your kid--you always make sure to remind me of that, and I'm GLAD I'm not. I'd hate to think I had your blood running through me." He knew it was the wrong thing to say, but it slipped out, and he couldn't call it back. He tried, though.. "I'm sorry, Jake. I didn't mean that. Look, you don't have to worry about me living on the streets and creating a scandal. I have friends I could stay with."

Jake's eyes had narrowed. "And have their parents gossipping about how I couldn't handle you?"

"They don't live with their parents. They..."

"Oh, GREAT! You want to go nest in some sort of flop house. Then we get to see video on the six o'clock news when they raid the place and haul you off in handcuffs. No fucking way, kid! You're going to stay here and you're going to start acting like a normal person."

"Like you? Yeah, well, give me a bottle. I'll get pissy drunk and go look for a woman to beat up."

This time Jake grabbed his hair and started slapping him over and over. Dwayne kicked and thrashed, but he couldn't land a solid blow. Jake was snarling, not really making much sense, railing about his hair, his clothes, his music, his lack of respect, his earrings...

"Two of 'em! Shit, as if it isn't faggotty enough to have ONE! That guy they hired right out of law school for the same salary I'm making wears one of them, a fucking little diamond stud. Stud! That's a laugh. I bet he takes it up the ass. I bet he got the job by sucking off the entire personnel office."

*Jesus, what the fuck is he ranting about?* Dwayne thought.

"Two in one ear, and one of them a goddam DANGLE earring! Are you TRYING to make people think you're queer? Is that all you've done to yourself? Huh? Have you gone and got a tattoo on your butt, or a nipple ring without asking permission?" He shook Dwayne by the hair. "Have you?"

Dwayne was starting to get scared. Jake had made a few snide comments about his appearance before, but nothing like this. It was getting creepy as well as scary. "Jake, I'm sorry if I disrespected you." The words were bitter in his mouth, but he was desperate to defuse the situation. "C'mon, man, let go. You're drunk, and...

"Quit avoiding the question. You won't tell me? Fine, I'll see for myself." Still holding Dwayne's hair in one hand, he grabbed the boy's collar with the other and ripped. The think cotton tore easily, baring Dwayne's smooth, pale chest. "Let me see." He jerked Dwayne a little closer, and reached out. Dwayne flinched at rough fingers prodded, then squeezed his nipples. "No, I guess that's one dumb ass stunt you haven't pulled yet."

To Dwayne's horror, Jake's touch softened till he was stroking the boy's nipple. "You shouldn't go mutilating your body like that, Dwayne."

Dwayne shoved at Jake's hand. "Stop it, Jake."

Now his hand moved up to stroke Dwayne's cheek. "You know, your skin is almost as smooth as a girl's. Hell, with that hair and a little lipstick and rouge you could PASS as a girl."

"C'mon, let go. I said I was sorry."

"Where were you last night?"

"What the hell does it matter?" Jake shook him again, and Dwayne cried out with pain. He wanted to pull loose, but he was sure that he'd leave a chunk of scalp if he did. "The boardwalk, okay? I went to the boardwalk. Please..."

"You been sucking cock down under the boards, punk?" The words were almost a whisper, and Dwayne stared at him in shock. Jake had been abusive before, but there'd never been a sexual tone to it. "Is that what you've been up to? Letting the chicken hawks get some jailbait?" He leaned closer, and Dwayne winced back from his hot, acrid breath. "You're almost too old for them now, aren't you? Almost legal. When's your birthday, anyway?"

"What the fuck does it matter? It isn't like you want to throw me a birthday party."

"Oh, you never can tell. I've been thinking the last couple of years, you might be WORTH a party, once you're legal." He was rubbing Dwayne's throat now. "I think the age is eighteen here. Good thing we moved from Texas. Fucking backwater. It's still illegal there."

Panic burst over Dwayne. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" He swung, and managed to clip Jake a glancing blow on the jaw. Jake stumbled backward, but he didn't let go. Dwayne was dragged by his hair, falling half off the bed to land with a resounding thud.

"Fucking little fairy!" Jake snarled. "You think you're old enough to fight me? Maybe you ARE old enough, then." He grabbed the back of Dwayne's jeans and hauled the slender boy up by that and his hair, while Dwayne screamed. He threw Dwayne on his belly and immediately put a knee in the middle of his back, holding him down. Dwayne screamed even louder as he felt Jake reach under him, ripping his jeans open. Then Jake started to open his own trousers.

"Jake?" The voice was tremulous, timid.

His vision was glazed with pain and tears, but Dwayne could make out his mother standing in the doorway. She was neatly dressed, but her bottom lip was split and swollen, and she had a black eye. "Mom! Call the cops, please!"

"Jake, what are you doing?" She wavered forward a step. "Don't hurt my baby! He's a good boy."

"Go back to your room and take another goddam pill, Grace." Jake's voice was contemptuous. "Someone's got to pound some respect into this brat. Since you're too weak, it's gonna have to be me."

She wavered, looking at them with wide eyes. Dwayne knew what she was seeing. Her son, obviously batter, half-naked, pinned to the bed by a man who had his pants open and a hard-on thrusting against the front of his boxers. "Mom, help me!" Dwayne pleaded. "Make him stop."

She blinked slowly. Then she said softly, "You... you'll be all right if you don't fight with him, Dwayne. Just... just don't fight with him." She turned around and started down the hall.

"MOM!" It was a scream of pure, hopeless anguish. It was the sound of a heart breaking. Dwayne was too stunned, too empty to continue fighting. Jake jerked his jeans and underwear down, grabbing his ass. Then he stopped.

"What the fuck?!" Dwayne felt Jake pry his buttocks apart, then he yelped as one thick finger was roughly jabbed into him. "Motherfucker!" There was bone deep disgust in Jake's voice, and he violently wiped his hand in Dwayne's hair. "Christ, I didn't expect you to be a virgin, but... I never thought you were stupid, kid. What the hell were you doing, letting some fag fuck you bareback?" He slapped Dwayne heavily on the back of the head. "Do you have any idea what you could have brought home? What you could have given me?"

*Now, there's an idea,* Dwayne thought wildly. *I can get AIDS, let him fuck me, and kill him like that. But he might give it to Mom, too.* And a tiny little voice in the back of his mind whispered, "So what?"

Jake got up, after giving Dwayne's kidney's a little rap. "Damn, now you've got me all worked up, and I can't do anything about it. I guess I'll have to go stick it in your cunt mother again." Again he grabbed Dwayne's hair, dragging his head up so he could look him in the eyes. "You're going to the clinic for a full blood workup, my little man. You better hope like hell you don't have anything that can't be cured with a shot." He let Dwayne's head thump back down. Then he laughed. "What the fuck? Even if you do, that's why we have condoms, right?" He swatted Dwayne's ass hard, then left. Dwayne lay limply, listening to the door shut. There were a few raps and clicks, and he realized that Jake had used the padlock. He was locked in.

Dwayne curled up and dragged the sheets over his head, cowering down in the darkness. Oddly enough, he'd stopped crying. He felt like he was never going to be able to cry again. What was the use?

He remembered the lair, lying in a candlit room, warm and sated, snuggled between two people who wanted him and cared about him. *And I came back to this. Maybe I AM stupid.*

He closed his eyes, whispering, "Paul, David... I want to go home."

END