Part Two:
"So...where's the old lady tonight?" Jake's voice was strained and raspy when he spoke, the intoxicating fumes he'd just inhaled, burning his lungs. The two boys had retreated to Michael's bedroom to get high only moments before. Already, the air in the darkened space was thick with pungent smoke. But Michael rather liked it, thought the smoke gave the room an even cozier atmosphere. And being so near to Jake, with only the soft glow of the desk lamp casting light from the corner, Michael finally felt at ease. The world outside the four flimsy walls surrounding them seemed distant. Here, like this, he was safe.
Coughing as he exhaled, Jake flopped down atop Michael's twin sized bed, and leaned back against the battered wooden headboard. The bed had belonged to Michael for as long as he could remember. There were still remnants of crayoned drawings on the baseboard. At 14, Michael had even carved his name into the frame with his boy scout knife. Right before he'd turned that same knife on himself. The blade had been dull, as he recalled. Breaking his skin had required a great deal of pressure. But he'd been persistent. Frantic. The Fuckwad had left his room only minutes before. Had staggered off to harass Michael's mother over some minor slight. And where had his mother been during THIS assault? Where had she been, when he had tried to scream out for help? When his face was held down against his own pillow to drown out the sound of his cries..and the pain shooting through his body had been so unbearable, he thought he'd been ripped in two?
Michael pushed the unpleasant memories from his mind, and peered over at Jake. His friend's short black hair was mussed, the longish bangs shading his brilliant blue eyes... God. Jake was stunningly handsome. His lean, muscular body so inviting, as he laid there. ON HIS BED. Michael was filled with silent wonder. How the hell did a guy this beautiful wind up on HIS bed? He couldn't understand why Jake kept coming back for him, time and time again, "huh?" Michael raised his brows, feeling dazed already, "did you say something?"
"Yeah, I asked where your mother went...and when she's coming home?" Michael shrugged as Jake passed him the joint. He took a long hit and held it until his eyes began to tear. Then he exhaled, blinking his heavy lids, "ahhh...I'd be surprised to see HER before Sunday night. She's got new man now, ya know."
"Mmmm...really? So, I can stay tonight?" Jake's ample lips curled into a crooked grin, his cerulean eyes glinting mischievously as he trailed them over Michael's sprawled, half-naked body. The boy hadn't bothered to throw his jeans back on. Instead, he'd stretched out across the bed on his stomach, his bare ass plainly visable. Prone. Tempting. It was a definite ploy, Michael's not so subtle way of keeping Jake's attention rapt. He needed to feel wanted. And when Jake was the one wanting, everything felt "right" in Michael's worthless existence.
As Jake's gaze swept over him, Michael felt his cock stir against the firm mattress. His heart fluttered uncontrollably against his ribs, "I'd like that...but...what should we do? I mean, we'd have an entire night all to ourselves...." He lowered his lids, feeling drowsey but incredibly horny from the potent combination of Jake and weed. The boy rolled onto his side suggestively, propping his head up with his arm, as he locked his eyes with Jake's.
"I'm sure we can think of something," the other boy bit his lower lip and peered down at Michael's stiff cock, "god, you look good."
That was all Michael needed to hear. He stretched lazily, snuffing the roach out in the ash tray that sat on top of his bed. Then, raising himself up on hands and knees, he crawled over to Jake, draping his scant body over the other's bulkier form. His head buried in the crook of Jake's neck, Michael brushed his lips against the other's salty skin, parting them, letting his tongue wander, his mouth suck, "do you want me? Cause I want you, Jake...want to feel your big, hard cock in my ass."
A husky groan caught in Jake's throat. Undone by Michael's vulgarity, he wrapped his sinewy arms around the other boy's back, his finger's tangling in Michael's shoulder-length hair. Their bodies crushing together. Harder. Tighter. Until Michael could feel the beat of Jake's heart against his own chest...hear the gentle thud resounding in his ears.
Strong hands brushed Michael's skin, smoothed downward over the small of his back, sending a faint tremor through the boy's body. Whimpering and breathless, Michael rolled his bony hips, grinding his engorged cock against the crotch of Jake's snug jeans, as he muttered against the other's open mouth, "fuck me. Just do it...please."
Jake's hands slid lower, clasping firm hold of Michael's ass. His fingers digging and kneading, forcing Michael to move rhythmically against his own swollen dick as their mouths moved together. Teeth nipping. Tongues tracing and teasing, filling each other. Until they were both squirming, desperate to be even closer.
"Ohgod...gonna fuck you so hard, Mikey," In one sudden motion, Jake rolled over on top of Michael. Trying not to weigh too heavily on his friend, as he tugged his T-Shirt off over his head.
Michael stared up at Jake as if in awe, his chocolate eyes glassy. Lustful. Drinking in the other's perfectly chiseled features. Smooth, tan skin. Hard muscle. The tattoo inked in black on his shoulder. Dark, stiff nipples. Michael fumbled clumsily to open the front of Jake's denims. His need overwhelming. Hands trembling violently.
"Whoa...take it easy. Don't be so nervous, it's not like we've never done this before," Jake murmured between labored breaths, as he enveloped Michael's smaller hand with his own, and helped the boy ease his zipper down, "there, yeah...that's it. Touch me. Mmm...that's good...ohyeah..."
"Like this? Tell me what you want, Jake. Tell me," he encircled Jake's shaft with his fingers, and pressed his thumb just beneath the fat, cushiony head. Massaging. Stroking. The skin hot in the palm of his hand. Feverish. He could feel Jake palpitating in his sweaty grip, feel the pre cum leaking out, in warm strings, over his hand as he pumped faster.
Jake's eyes rolled back, his jaw dropping, "I wanna be inside you. Fuck you til your ass is sore." He grabbed for one of Michael's legs and guided it over his shoulder, "raise your other leg up...come on..."
The high pitched squeal of Jake's beeper cut through the air of the smoke filled room, "Urghhhh...no. Let it go, Jake...don't..." Michael felt Jake's body tense when the pager went off. Felt the spell that'd held them enthralled only seconds before, begin to disintegrate. He wanted to cry. Could feel the pressure building behind his eyes. He batted his lashes. Fighting the urge to let the tears flow. No..please...not now.
With an agitated sigh, Jake flipped over onto his back, and tore the pager off the waist of his jeans. Lifting it so he could read the miniature screen. "Fuck. Shit... Mikey..."
"Jake, NO! Don't even say it...don't tell me you're gonna run off." Immediately, he was ashamed of the piercing, whiny tone of his voice. Yet, he found himself unable to alter its pitch. Unable to hide his feelings, in the easy manner that Jake always seemed to manage, "I don't care who it is, they can wait another ten minutes."
"Mikey," Jake's hand was on his back again, rubbing at his skin through his fraying, old shirt, "this is important...I gotta go. But I can be back in twenty minutes..."
"More important than me?"
"No Michael. This is FOR you...and me. You know that. Do you wanna live in this trailer your whole fucking life?" Crawling across the bed, he came up behind Michael, and combed his fingers through the boy's hair in an attempt to reassure him, "we'll have enough money soon. Enough to get the hell out of here. You and me. Get our own place. Somewhere...far away from all the...ugly memories."
"But you're never around..." Michael sniffled. Fuck. He hated crying in front of Jake, "and...what if... What if something happens to you, one of these times when you're out? I d-don't wanna...d-don't know if I could s-stand that." He swiped at the hot tears, as they began to streak down over his cheeks.
"Hey, now...come on Mikey. I can take care of myself, and I never go anywhere without my piece. I told you that before," he reached around and touched Michael beneath the chin, tilting his face upward to meet his eyes.
"Somehow, I don't find THAT reassuring."
"I gotta go. It's Saturday....if I don't, I'll lose a customer." Jake searched his glistening, dark eyes, hoping to find some small flicker of understanding there.
"Fine. Go...do your thing," he jerked his chin from Jake's gentle grip, and closed his eyes. Listening to Jake behind him on the bed, fastening his jeans, "if you're not back in half an hour, I'm going out. I'm sick of sitting around here, waiting for you."
The narrow bed creaked as Jake stood, and walked over to where Michael sat, shoulders hunched miserably, eyes shut. "I never asked you to sit around waiting for me, did I?" With these sharp words, Jake tugged his T-shirt down over his head, concealing the smooth, honey skin that Michael had been admiring only seconds before. He stuffed his shirt sloppily into the waist of his jeans, then raked his fingers through his dark, cropped hair with a sigh, "I said I'd be back as soon as I can. Okay? Just wait for me..."
Michael's eyelids bolted open. He shot Jake a long hard stare and nodded, "yeah, whatever..." An eerie coolness washed over the boy, numbing him as he sat there, "do what you want. And I will too. I don't care anymore. " And suddenly, he didn't. He just wanted Jake to leave him alone. Didn't want to love him. Or fuck him. No one knew better than Michael, that a good, hard fuck could be gotten just about anywhere. Why should it matter, whether or not it was Jake? Jake obviously didn't love him with the same intensity he felt. Not that Michael blamed him. How could he? He didn't even like himself.
"It'll be okay, Mikey...don't be upset. I'll be back in no time. Then we'll have the whole night together," Jake stroked Michael's hair one last time, then bent to kiss his forehead. Even though Michael had remained silent, and refused to meet his gaze, Jake believed in his own words. As he made his way through the cramped trailer and walked out the door, he honestly believed that everything was going to be all right...