I would like to extend my grateful thanks to my friend Mike Arram for continuing to allow me to bounce ideas off him and providing many helpful suggestions as well as the encouragement that has actually gotten me this far with the stories I have written. I would also like to thank all the readers who have written with comments. I really appreciate having heard from all of you.
This story is for my little duckling; always remember that I love you.
This story contains graphic depictions of sex between teen males, so if you're some sort of puritan or prude, you ought not to be at this site to begin with, and you certainly shouldn't read any farther into this text. Likewise, if you aren't old enough to read this filth wherever you happen to be - Shoo, go away.
NOTE: You are cautioned at this point that some of the sexual situations in this chapter will be a little more graphic, and will include the use of poppers and minor cutting (or as one person I know so eloquently put it, 'vampire sex') between the participants. If this makes you squeamish or uncomfortable, you should read no further.
If you're not, which if you're now reading this sentence now, you had better not be. I hope you'll enjoy this. This story is set in a world where there are no such things as STDs or deity-of-your-choice forbid HIV or AIDS, so you won't be reading anything about condoms except in this paragraph. This should not in any way be construed as advocating unsafe sex. Quite the contrary - protect yourself as much as you can, no one else is going to do it for you.
Do not modify or redistribute this text, or show it to any religious zealots or anyone else who will be horribly offended by it without my express written consent.
For a complete list of my other stories (including Nifty Archive links), just e-mail and I will be happy to accommodate.
Emo Boi Finds Love Chapter Six
-------------------------------------------------------------- From: Thomas To: ty_1600@hotmail.com Subj: Guarantees? --------------------------------------------------------------
There are no guarantees
From the standpoint of fear
None are strong enough
From the standpoint of love
None are necessary
Love ya, Thomas --------------------------------------------------------------
Tyler pondered the message as he sat in the lounge at the airport awaiting the boarding call for his flight. He didn't completely understand its meaning even yet, even though it had been nearly two years since Thomas had sent it. Tyler had been in pain - not physical, but emotional pain when he had received that message. He had felt that almost no one really understood him. His friends at school didn't understand him; they couldn't, they didn't know what was going through his mind. He certainly wasn't going to try opening up to them again. When he had tried to do what he needed to survive they had made fun of him and called him names.
His parents didn't understand him; sometimes it seemed more like they thought he was just some sort of weird outcast. He had to endure all the fighting and bickering, and when he had made the move toward reconciliation, the way they had reacted! To Tyler it seemed as if they still didn't love him, despite the fact that they did in their own way. It was just a way that he couldn't then understand.
He hadn't even felt that Corey really and truly understood what he had been going through; even though they had both felt a stronger bond after the blood transfusion the day Tyler had saved Corey's life - for the second time in one day.
Drake definitely hadn't understood what he was going through or what he really needed most, though he always claimed to. If he had, he never would have treated him the way he did. He had claimed to love Tyler, and said he was trying to help him. What he had really been doing was using him. Tyler was able to see that now. Fortunately, with Thomas' help and advice he had figured that out before things got too out of hand.
When it came right down to it, Tyler hadn't understood himself two years ago. He was only coming to realize that now.
In Tyler's opinion, Thomas had probably understood him better than anyone, even though he was nearly 1800 miles away on the southern coast of Georgia, and they had only ever 'talked' using chat and e-mail. That was because Tyler had opened up more to him than anyone else. Somehow he felt a strange connection to this man he only knew through the internet. Was he really who and what he said he was? Tyler didn't know for sure. All he could do was hope and have faith. Considering all the disappointments, trials and tribulations he'd had in his life at eighteen years old, it took a big leap of faith for him to be making this trip.
Tyler looked out through the large plate glass windows of the lounge. The sky was a brilliant blue, with a few bright white cumulus clouds floating effortlessly by. He hoped this was an omen for what lay ahead. He didn't think he could endure any more pain.
The loudspeaker in the airport lounge announced the boarding calls for more flights. Tyler's still wasn't on the list. He thought back to what had happened to him over the last couple years as he stared at the ticket he held in his hands...
Tyler skipped his last two classes the day Corey came home from the hospital. He wanted to make sure he was there when his friend came home. It was something he couldn't explain - even to himself at the time - but he felt a certain new closeness to Corey now that there was some of his blood pumping through Corey's veins. He wanted their friendship back, and from his visits to Corey in the hospital, it seemed that Corey did too. He was often really out of it when Tyler called or came by, as if his mind was dulled and in a fog. A nurse had explained to him that it was a side-effect of the pain killers he was taking.
Tyler was sitting on the front porch of Corey's home when Corey's parents' car pulled into the driveway. As the car pulled into the carport, Tyler walked quickly around to the side of the house to greet his friend and welcome him home. They exchanged a brief, gentle hug. Tyler was careful not to hug too tightly, even though Corey's injuries were on his wrists, not his abdomen. They all went inside, and Corey's mother brought them some lemonade as they sat down in the family room. The four of them made some uncomfortable small talk for a little while, before Corey announced that he was feeling tired and wanted to take a nap.
Tyler accompanied him downstairs to his room and sat on a rocking chair while Corey stripped off his clothes. The room was a lot different than the last time Tyler had seen it. The bloody linens had been replaced. The window Tyler had broken to get in had been repaired and the glass cleaned up. The typical teen boy clutter that normally filled the room was missing. Apparently Corey's mother had cleaned the room and put his things away.
Corey lay back on his bed in a pair of loose boxers; his white socks pushed down around his ankles and started to rub the bandages on his wrists. Tyler realized he was trying to scratch at them.
"I don't think you should do that, Core..."
"Do what?" Corey looked up at him, drowsily.
"Scratch at your bandages. You might rip the stitches loose," Tyler explained. "That wouldn't be very good. I don't want you to end up back in the hospital."
"But you broke up with me, why do you care? I thought you didn't love me anymore."
"Just because I don't think we should be lovers anymore doesn't mean I don't think we can't be friends, and it doesn't mean that I don't love you. Corey, you have been my best friend as long as I can remember, and I don't want to ever lose that. Why do you think I was waiting here for you to get home, and kept calling and visiting at the hospital?" They had talked about this already, which caused Tyler a little concern. He hoped it was just the pain killers Corey was taking that caused him not to remember their previous conversations.
"Okay, Ty. I guess you're right. I need to get some sleep now though, okay? I'm really zonked out."
Tyler knelt on Corey's bed so they could have another short hug before he left. He squeezed Corey a little tighter this time though. He liked the feeling of Corey's bare skin again his hands and arms. But even though he really missed having that feeling, and despite how much he enjoyed the brief contact, he knew he couldn't let himself forget what they had been through.
Tyler came upstairs and was on his way out through the kitchen. Corey's parents stopped him. "Tyler, we really haven't had a chance to say so yet, but Corey's father and I really want to thank you for everything you've done for Corey. I can't imagine what would have happened if you hadn't got here when you did," his mother said.
Tyler was a little embarrassed, and hung his head sheepishly. When he looked back up, they could see that he was blushing. "It was nothing," he said. "I'm sure Corey would have done the same thing for me." And he was sure.
"No, really," Corey's father added. "If it wasn't for you we would have lost our son. We really owe you a debt of gratitude."
"Really Mr. Erickson, I just got lucky," Tyler said as he shook the man's hand and gave Mrs. Erickson a short hug before turning to leave. He didn't want to tell them about the suicide note Corey had e-mailed to him. He didn't think Corey's parents would understand. Besides, some of the things Corey had written were private, meant only to be shared between the two of them.
Tyler showed up at the arcade looking for Bryan. He had smoked his last joint the day before on his way home after welcoming Corey home from the hospital. When he and Bryan went into the back room, Tyler was a little more subdued than usual. Bryan picked up on this and asked him what was up.
"It's Corey," Tyler told him. I want to know what he's going through, what the pain killers they have him on are making him feel like. He seems so out of it sometimes, I just want to know what they're doing to him."
This was an excuse he was making for Bryan, nothing more. Tyler was feeling pain - emotional and mental pain. He had seen how the drugs Corey was taking dulled his senses. He was hoping that it would dull his mental pain the same way it dulled Corey's physical pain and numbed his mind. Tyler's emotions had been in turmoil for a long time, and what he wanted was something to put this to rest.
"So what is it you want from me?" Bryan asked.
"Percoset," Tyler told him. He'd seen the pill bottle by Corey's bed and knew what it was that Corey was taking.
Bryan considered what Tyler had asked for just a moment, and then told Tyler to come back in a couple hours. As Tyler turned to leave, Bryan spoke once again. "The percoset is going to cost you, I hope you know that."
Tyler stopped and turned back toward Bryan. "How much?" he asked.
"A hundred," Bryan replied.
"That seems kind of steep. I don't exactly have that much right now." Tyler was going to try to bargain with him.
"The prescription stuff isn't cheap, take it or leave it." Bryan didn't seem to be in the mood to negotiate.
Tyler nodded, then turned and left the arcade. Tyler watched his shoes most of the way out of the building. He didn't want to meet anyone's eye. He wasn't sure where he was going to get the money for that. He only had fifty in his pocket, and he had thought that would be enough to get him some of the pills as well as a little bit of pot. 'Damn, I really don't want to spend that kind of money,' he thought as he walked away. For a sixteen year old, that was a lot of cash for what he saw as just an experiment, but with any luck an experiment that would prove successful.
Bryan didn't know for sure, but he thought it was a pretty sure thing that Tyler and Corey were lovers, or were at the very least fuck-buddies. He'd sensed it first when Corey brought Tyler in that first time with him to get a vial of poppers. After that he'd watched them a little more carefully every time they came in. Then there were the poppers themselves - Bryan had a pretty good idea what the two boys were using them for.
It also wasn't hard for him to recognize the way they looked at each other. There was something in the eyes if you knew what you were looking for, and Bryan did. He'd seen it before, and as he had on those other occasions, he intended to try to capitalize what he saw as a potential opportunity. Bryan wasn't gay, or even bi, not really - but he would let a couple of the boys who couldn't afford it otherwise blow him in exchange for a little of his product sometimes. He had discovered that boys - even the straight ones - were generally better at giving oral sex than girls were. He supposed that it was because guys knew what guys liked. He'd even got one to let him fuck him in the butt once. Sure he'd pretended in his own mind that it was a girl, but that hole had been tighter than anything he'd ever had before, and he wouldn't mind getting another one like that.
Tyler had a summer job, so he had some money still stashed in his bank account. He spent most of the two hours before he was supposed to go back to the arcade to meet Bryan walking around, thinking about whether or not he should really spend that much money to get the pills. In the end, he decided that he really did want to know what the drugs Corey was taking were making him feel like. He hit up an ATM for the money he needed and went back to the arcade.
Bryan was pretty sure Tyler would be back when he had left a couple hours before. He was a little later than the two hours Bryan had told him, but he did show back up. Bryan smiled as he led Tyler into the back room that doubled as an office and storage area to conduct their business. Tyler tried to talk him down again.
"Look dude, a hundred bucks is way too much for pain killers. Maybe I'll just take some pot." He was bluffing, and he was doing a good job of it.
"I guess I can give you a little bit of a break," Bryan admitted. What he was hoping was that Tyler didn't have enough money. In truth, Bryan had managed to get the little bottle of pills he had for Tyler for only twenty five dollars. He figured the markup was worth it though. Not only was he providing a service, but he was also taking a risk.
"How much?" Tyler asked.
"Seventy five is the lowest I can go."
"Okay. Seventy five, but I want you to throw in a couple joints too."
Bryan nodded, accepting the deal. He put the pill bottle on the desk, and then added two thinly rolled joints out of a small baggie filled with them. Tyler turned, counted out the seventy five dollars and shoved the rest of his money back into his front pocket. When he turned back around, he set the money down on the desk next to the drugs.
Tyler examined the pill bottle. There were only ten pills in it. "Dude, seven fifty a piece for these things?" Tyler said. "That is steep."
"Hey dude, the 'scripts aren't always so easy to come by. Don't get used to the discount price; just call it a first timer's sale."
Tyler dropped the two joints into the pill bottle, capped it and tucked the bottle into his jacket pocket. He looked up at Bryan, said thanks and walked out of the arcade, once again watching his shoes as he did.
Comments and feedback are welcomed at t_macd@comcast.net. Flamers will be ignored by me, but will meet with an untimely and horrible demise as the result of the curse of the old gypsy woman who lives across the lake from me, and has inexplicably taken a liking to me. Anger her at your own risk.
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