Jamie Lawrence

Jamie Lawrence - Chapter Twenty One

Warning

This story contains graphic description of sex acts betweens members of the same sex. If accessing material such as this is illegal in your country, province, or state, please do not continue reading.

The characters contained within this story are entirely fictional and should be taken as such. Any resemblance to any person(s) living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Please remember to donate anything you can spare to Nifty. The link to do so can be found on their homepage and on all directories.

For the American readers amongst you; This story is set in England. The use of the word "College" refers to the institution attended by children aged 16-19.

Jamie Lawrence - Chapter Twenty One

"What are you doing?" demanded Gerry, staring at Shane in the rear view mirror.

"What do you think? I'm calling Callum. Dad, the way you behaved in there was disgusting."

"No, what HE was doing was disgusting! Give me your phone."

"What? No!"

Gerry stamped on the brakes, hard. Shane, who hadn't been wearing a seatbelt, jerked forward. Gerry pulled on the handbrake and turned around in his seat. "Give me the fucking phone." He grabbed Shane's wrist and forcibly removed the phone from his hand. "You're not to speak to that boy, or the other one, ever again."

"Pardon me?" demanded Shane incredulously, his eyebrows shooting up into his hair.

"You heard me. I'm not having you mixing with that sort."

Gerry pulled up outside the house and set about getting his wife out of the passenger side. Diane had been very quiet since they had left the Lawrences' home, but Gerry had other things on his mind.

Inside, all three gathered in Diane's makeshift bedroom. Shane sat on the side of the bed, holding his mother's hand while Gerry paced back and forth.

"Jamie's been in our home. He's slept in your fucking room with you, Shane! God knows what he got up to while you were sleeping!"

"Oh, so suddenly 'gay' is a synonym for 'rapist'?"

"Watch your lip. And Callum! He's been in your BED!" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can only imagine," he muttered to nobody in particular.

"Now you're going entirely too far!" exclaimed Shane. "Callum is my cousin. And he's only thirteen. Just because they're gay, it doesn't automatically make them perverted. And frankly, assuming that it does makes you a bigot."

"YOU WILL SPEAK TO ME WITH RESPECT!" screamed Gerry.

"THE MOMENT YOU FUCKING EARN IT!" retorted Shane.

Gerry took two steps toward Shane, raising his arm into the air as he did. In a flash of white hot fury that he hadn't felt since the day his brother had come out, Gerry struck his own son soundly across the face.

Shane flew bodily onto his mother's bed, skilfully avoiding landing on anything delicate. Diane immediately enveloped him in her good arm while Shane cradled his face in his hands.

Diane looked at Gerry with menace in her eyes. "How - dare - you!" she said, pausing between each word, as if to pour as much venom as she could into each one. "If you ever; and I mean EVER; touch MY son like that again, there won't be a broken bone severe enough to stop me levelling you!"

Far from feeling remorse, Gerry felt a renewed anger. "And you," he said, rounding on Diane as if he had only just noticed her. "You knew."

The anger in Diane's eyes faltered momentarily. "What?" she demanded.

"You knew. When I took you out last week. You chewed me out for something I said about faggots. I thought it was weird, but this makes sense. You knew that Callum and Jamie were little queers."

"Fine. Yes, I knew about Jamie. I didn't tell you because I know how narrow minded you are. I had no idea about Callum though."

"And if YOU knew about Jamie, then;" He rounded on Shane again who was still lying in his mother's arm looking torn between fear and belligerence. "Then YOU had to have known."

"Yes; alright? I knew about BOTH of them. I knew Jamie was gay from the first day I started spending time with him. And as for Callum, he was MISERABLE until he met Darius. Haven't you noticed how much more...alive...he seems?"

"Enough! Shane; I'm disappointed in you. I thought you knew to keep better company. And lying all this time? Just-" Gerry sighed. "Go to bed."

Oliver flopped down onto his bed having carefully hung Ronnie's hoodie in the wardrobe. He ran his fingers through his hair and waited for Matty to finish his phone call.

"Yeah. Cheers Mum. See ya tomorrow. Yeah, love you too." He stuffed his phone in his pocket. "She says I can stay." He beamed that infectious grin of his and sat down next to Oliver.

Oliver rested his head on Matty's shoulder. "Jamie was amazing tonight."

Matty chuckled. "Jamie's always amazing. But yeah; tonight was something special. Made me think about stuff too."

"Stuff?"

Matty hedged slightly. "I kinda haven't come out to my 'rents."

Oliver looked into Matty's gorgeous blue eyes. "I guessed as much. You always say 'my friend, Oliver' when you call her."

Matty pressed his lips to Oliver's. "I think we went a little past friendship tonight. It's not every day you tell someone that you love them."

"Actually," said Oliver, sliding his hand up the back of Matty's shirt. "You didn't say it. Jamie said it for you."

Matty looked thoughtful. "Hmm. That's a pretty big oversight on my part. Perhaps I should rectify the situation?" Oliver smiled warmly at his boyfriend and Matty put one hand either side of his face. "I love you, Oliver." He kissed him swiftly on the lips.

Hearing Matty say it moved something inside Oliver. It was like a crescendo of joy that stopped short of filling his eyes with tears. "I love you too."

"Now," said Matty. "I wonder..." His hands strayed down to the bottom of Oliver's t-shirt where he started to play with the hem. "Since we've made such great progress with the hoodie..." He gave Oliver a gentle peck on the lips. "Maybe we can work on the t-shirt?"

There was a definite note of uncertainty in Matty's voice, which Oliver appreciated greatly. It meant that Matty was conscious of how nervous Oliver was about their growing intimacy.

Oliver exhaled shakily. "I g-guess so." He could feel his heart rate picking up. The truth was that he was more than eager to be undressed by Matty, but every time Matty made any kind of advance, Oliver felt sick. Not sickened by Matty, but by fear.

Still, he was damned if he was going to let Matty slip through his fingers for something as silly as nerves.

He felt Matty take the bottom of his t-shirt and move it three or four inches upwards, exposing Oliver's stomach. Oliver lay back, hoping that the more relaxed position would create a more relaxed Oliver. Matty released the hem of Oliver's t-shirt and ran his hand gently over his navel.

As he did this, Matty looked him full in the eyes. The mixed look of love and lust made Oliver shy away from his gaze, turning his head to the side.

Matty's hand left Oliver's navel and came to his cheek. He forced Oliver to look him in the eye. "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you." He kissed the tip of Oliver's nose. "Beautiful." He kissed Oliver's cheek. "Perfect." He kissed Oliver's lips and that silly grin of his appeared. "And hot like you wouldn't believe."

Oliver giggled, but then his mood turned serious. The look in Matty's eyes spoke volumes. Oliver could trust him because he had nothing but love for him. Matty was attractive enough that he could be screwing his way through the gay population of Manchester, but here he was, simply asking Oliver to take off his t-shirt.

"T-shirt," said Oliver. He had hoped that something more coherent would escape his lips, but that would have to do.

Matty's eyes widened momentarily. "Are you sure?"

Again, Oliver released a shaky breath and nodded. He allowed Matty to unceremoniously drag his shirt over his head before lying back down with his red hair strewn about his head.

He felt vulnerable without his shirt, but if he was going to feel vulnerable, better that it be with Matty.

Matty had Oliver's shirt pressed to his nose and his eyes fixed on his skinny chest. Oliver hated his body. He was half a stone away from showing his rib cage and he didn't have a single chest hair

Matty, however, seemed enthralled. His right hand was roaming softly over Oliver's sternum, sending a shiver through Oliver's body. It appeared that even Matty was shaking. "Wow," he managed to choke out.

He tossed Oliver's shirt to one side and started to caress Oliver's chest, sliding his hands over Oliver's nipples, navel and sides. For Oliver, who was unused to physical contact of this fashion, this was heaven.

The caressing turned seamlessly into a skin massage with special attention being paid to Oliver's nipples. Each time one of Matty's thumbs roamed over one of the soft pink things, Oliver's head would tip back into his pillow as a spark of pleasure shot through him.

For the first time in a long time, Oliver's jeans were feeling uncomfortably tight, and it didn't help that Matty was straddling his pelvis.

Oliver's eyes had been closed through the whole experience, and he was startled when he felt Matty's lips pressing against his right nipple. His surprise gave way to ecstasy after only a few short seconds as Matty unleashed his tongue and gave Oliver cause to moan in delight. Oliver's nerves were all but forgotten by this point.

Oliver started to gyrate his hips in an attempt to relieve the strain that his jeans were placing on his swollen member. Perhaps sensing his discomfort, Matty's left hand strayed down to Oliver's buttons and flicked them open in one swift movement.

And then his hand stayed there. It rested lightly over the body of Oliver's dick, nothing but his cotton briefs to bridge the gap. Oliver was hardly aware that Matty's lips had left his nipples and had strayed south to his stomach. One of Matty's fingers snaked its way under the waistband of Oliver's underwear and lowered it just an inch.

Matty paused. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked, his lips brushing gently over Oliver's skin as he spoke.

Oliver didn't know how to answer. What Matty had been doing up to then had felt wonderful, and hadn't worried him too much. But now Matty was moving things along, and Oliver was getting nervous again.

While Oliver was deliberating, Matty continued to plant soft butterfly kisses just below Oliver's navel.

"You're shaking. Do you want me to stop?" he asked again.

"N-no." Oliver swallowed loudly, shifting the thickening in his throat. "Keep going, p-please."

Matty hooked another finger into the other side of Oliver's shorts and slowly lowered them over his hips. Oliver raised his bottom off the bed to make it easier for Matty.

Exposed to another person for the first time in his life, Oliver's heart rate picked up even more. His breathing was loud and deep and he had both of his hands balled into fists.

Matty wrapped his warm hand around Oliver's slender shaft and he carefully pulled the foreskin back, revealing the angry looking head. Matty kissed the sensitive underside of it and Oliver gasped, his eyes going wide.

Matty looked up at him and gave him a knowing smile before he returned to kissing and, before long, licking. Oliver started to groan as Matty slid his tongue around his dick. Matty opened his mouth, licked his lips and enveloped Oliver's shaft between them. "Oh!" muttered Oliver as the electric sensation coursed through him.

Oliver knew he wasn't going to last long. His breathing was coming faster and faster and he was moaning with each breath. Matty's tongue was gyrating against the underside of his dick and each time Oliver felt the head touch the back of Matty's throat he would raise his hips slightly, as if to force more of himself into Matty's mouth.

"Muh- ah- Matty," started Oliver, trying to warn Matty of the impending explosion, but he had left it too long. Matty's name had barely escaped his lips when he thrust his head back into his pillow, grabbed two fistfuls of bedsheets and moaned loudly as he released several streams of cum into Matty's waiting mouth.

Matty lovingly cleaned Oliver up with his tongue before replacing his underwear, buttoning his jeans and coming back up to Oliver's face. Oliver blinked a couple of times and felt a tear slide out of his eye and run down the side of his face.

"Honey, you're crying!" Matty sounded alarmed.

Oliver sniffed. "Just feeling- I don't know; Overwhelmed, maybe?"

Matty chuckled warmly. "Am I really that good?"

Oliver rolled his eyes. Matty rolled onto his back and pulled Oliver on top of himself, wrapping him up in his arms. Oliver suddenly felt very tired and found himself drowsing in Matty's arms.

Within a few minutes, Oliver was sound asleep. He never knew that Matty sneaked off to the bathroom, in need of relieving some strain.

After spending more than an hour pacing in the kitchen, Gerry had decided he needed to distract himself. He was now sitting at the dining table with his laptop open and Anthony Walker's case file scattered haphazardly in front of him.

The photos were fairly gruesome. Images of a young man in a coma, lying in a hospital with parts of his skull clearly visible.

The boy's name was Niall Roberts and he had been out celebrating his twenty first birthday on Manchester's Gay Village. According to Anthony's statement, the boy had come on to him, and Gerry had to admit that had the same thing happened to him, he probably would have reacted the same way.

The witness didn't corroborate this argument, however. He claimed that the victim had been asking Anthony directions when Anthony jumped him. The witness; a man in his sixties; was in no position to help, and had stood by in shocked disbelief while Niall's head was battered into the tarmac.

Ever before, the photos had been just that to Gerry; images of a little faggot who was about to put another young man in prison.

Now, however, Niall's face wasn't his own. Gerry was trying to focus on his work, but every time he looked at Niall's face, he saw his own brother, and what he himself had done to him three years before.

Hadn't Tommy deserved it? Surely it was something that had to be beaten out of him.

Without even noticing that he had put his head down, Gerry was asleep.

The dream started simply. He and Tommy were running around the feet of a large roan horse they had owned when they were young. The horse, a good natured beast named Thunder, waited patiently for the two youngsters to finish before he wandered off to graze.

It was one of Gerry's favourite memories. He and his brother, how they should have been. But something wasn't right.

The six-year-old Tommy was bleeding. His nose was busted and a large gash across his forehead stared angrily at Gerry. Six-year-old Tommy stood stock still and pointed a defiant finger at Gerry. -You did this- said Tommy.

-I was trying to help!- cried Gerry.

-You broke me!-

And then Tommy was gone, as was Thunder and the farm. Gerry was in Manchester, just off the Gay Village. And there was that boy! Anthony Walker stood on a street corner, smoking a joint and looking furtively about himself.

Coma-boy was walking over, looking worried. -'Scuse me?- he asked of Anthony.

-Yeah?-

-Do you know how I can get back to Market Street? I'm lost.- Anthony pointed out the way back to the main road. -Oh, thank you so much!- said Niall jubilantly. Almost unconsciously, he put a hand on Anthony's shoulder. -Thank you!-

Anthony looked at the hand resting on his shoulder and his face turned. -Get your hand off me, faggot.-

Niall retracted his hand quickly, looking frightened. -Sorry. I just-

-You just thought I was a little queer like you and you could have a bit of my dick?-

-No! I-

-You faggots make me sick.- He seemed to think for a moment. -Maybe I should teach you not to go feeling up guys.-

-I wasn't, I promise.- Niall was crying slightly, though clearly trying to hold it back. -I'm just trying to get ho-

Niall's last word was cut short as Anthony punched him square in the face. Niall flew backwards into the road, his arms and legs strewn about himself awkwardly. He tried to lift his head, but Anthony dived on top of him and grabbed his head with both hands.

-Let's see if I can knock the gay out of you.-

And he pulled his arm back, clenching his fist tightly as he did. He gripped Niall by the hair with his other hand and thrust his fist forward into Niall's face so hard that his head bounced back into the ground. The sound of Niall's skull hitting the road was sickening.

And he didn't stop there. He grabbed Niall's hair again. Lifting his head into position once more, a malicious grin appeared on his face. Gerry watched, helpless. He screamed and screamed at Anthony to stop, but he had no voice in his dream.

Anthony punched Niall again, sending his head back to the road with another sickening thud.

He abandoned the punches, settling for grabbing Niall's head and pounding it repeatedly into the ground, that same malicious grin plastered across his face.

Gerry looked across the road and saw an old man with a walking stick, staring at the horrific scene with heartbreak in his eyes. There seemed to be a moment where he had finally had enough.

-Hey!- he shouted feebly. -Get off that boy!-

He hurried as fast as his sixty year old legs would carry him toward the pair.

Anthony stood up, unbothered the old man, and spat in Niall's face. He turned on his heel and stalked off.

The old man knelt next to the boy. He called for an ambulance on an ancient mobile phone and sat stroking the boy's hair. Gerry knelt too.

The old man looked him straight in the eye. -Gerry.-

Gerry was startled. He had been an onlooker in the dream so far, and now the dream was acknowledging him. More than that; the old man had Tommy's voice.

-Gerry. Look at the boy.-

-What? Why?-

-Just look.-

Gerry looked down, and caught his breath. -No!- he cried. It wasn't Niall lying there. It was Jamie. His tiny body twisted into an awkward position, his black hair smeared with blood. Gerry took one of Jamie's hands. -Jamie!- he called out.

Gerry jerked awake. A stream of spittle connected his face to the table and he felt like a bus had run over him. The photos strewn about in front of him glared at him accusingly. He slammed his laptop shut and crammed all the papers into his bag. He had done nothing wrong!

So why did he feel so guilty?

When Shane woke up the follow morning, his father had already left for work. Shane made his mother a breakfast of Spanish Omelette, grabbing a few bites for himself while she ate. Diane had always fed Shane from her own plate when he was a child, and Shane still let her do it occasionally. She said it made her feel nice.

"How's your face?" she asked, moving a piece of sausage around her plate with her good hand.

Shane put his hand to his left cheek. There was a purple bruise forming on his cheekbone and it was delicate to touch. "Smarts a bit."

Diane touched her temple. "I'm sorry Shane. I should have-"

"Should have what? Jumped in the way? I don't know if you've noticed, Mum, but you're not exactly spry at the moment."

Diane laughed softly. "I guess you're right. Still, you're my baby."

"I'm a bit big for you to be calling me your baby."

"Sweetie, you'll be my baby 'til the day I die. Anyway, shouldn't you be getting to college?"

"Not a chance. I've got to go see Jamie before I do anything else." Diane smiled and Shane leaned over to give her quick peck on the cheek. "I've got my mobile. Dawn's already on her way over for you."

"Okay, sweetie. Call me and tell me what happens."

Shane headed out and jumped onto his bicycle, two bags slung over his back. He had been stressing all night, worrying about Jamie and Callum. He had sneaked down during the night to use the house phone but his father had disabled the handset. Shane couldn't remember the last time he had gone twelve hours without hearing from Jamie, and it had felt distinctly unnatural waking up without Callum next to him.

Shane pulled into Jamie's front yard and dismounted. Beth answered the door when he rang the bell and she told him to go right up.

When he walked into Jamie's bedroom, he had to smile at what he saw. Jamie and Callum were cuddled up to each other in nothing but their boxers. Their lips were almost touching and both were snoring softly.

He stayed in the doorway for a little longer than was necessary, just watching his two favourite people sleep. Finally, he cleared his throat and Callum stirred.

He raised his head ponderously from the pillow and looked blearily at Shane. It seemed to take him a moment to register what he was looking at, but when he realised it was Shane, his eyebrows shot up.

"Shane!" he cried out ecstatically. He tried desperately to disentangle himself from Jamie, waking Jamie in the process. Finally free of Jamie's limbs, he darted across the room and jumped into Shane's arms, enveloping him in his own.

Jamie rolled over groggily and looked at the pair. As he stared into Shane's eyes, his own filled with tears. "I thought..." He pressed a shaking hand to his eyes to sweep away the tears and sighed. "I don't know what I thought."

Shane motioned for him to come over, which he did. Shane stood with Callum in his right arm and Jamie in his left and kissed the top of both their heads.

Jamie looked up at him and spotted the bruise forming on his cheek. "What happened?!" he burst out, shock in his voice. "Did that bastard hit you?"

"It's nothing. Listen, I'm sorry I was such a disappointment last night."

"We understand; don't we, Jamie?" said Callum innocently. Jamie nodded mutely.

"Still," said Shane. "I should have been more for you." He squeezed Jamie slightly and looked at Callum. "And I should be a better role model for you."

"You're a great role model!" said Callum.

Shane shook his head sadly. "A great role model doesn't lie to his father for two months. He doesn't ask the man he loves to lie for him. He doesn't stand by and do nothing when the two most important people in his life need him. I'm so sorry, to both of you." He squeezed them both and they both squeezed back.

"We forgive you," said Jamie.

"I've decided I'm going to come out to my Dad today."

"What?" demanded Jamie. "Are you sure?"

Shane chuckled. "Not even close, but I'm not about to oust you from my life. If coming out is the price I have to pay to keep you, then I say I'm getting off lightly." He kissed Jamie passionately. "Maybe one day I'll be able to hold your hand in front of him."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," said Jamie, smiling.

Gerry wandered through the halls of Strangeways prison listening to the clicking of his shoes echoing back at him from the tiled walls. He had never liked coming here. There was a time when he had thought that he would end up here on a less voluntary level. Thankfully, Tommy hadn't wanted to press charges.

Even as a visitor, the place felt claustrophobic. The white walls and bars made the place feel oppressive and somehow robbed Gerry of hope as he headed deeper into E-wing.

The guard led Gerry to the interview room and settled him in before returning a few minutes later with Anthony Walker in tow.

When Anthony spotted Gerry sitting there, he tipped his head and said "Orite mate?"

Gerry cringed at that. "I'm very well, thank you." Anthony didn't need to know what was going on in Gerry's head. "And yourself?"

"It's a fucking piss-take, this shit. When are you getting me the fuck out of here?"

Gerry sighed. "The trial starts next week, but I'm fairly certain that you won't be released. That's not to say I'm not going to try."

"Fuckin' hell." He smacked his head against the table. "All this over some little fairy."

"Anthony, what do you have against..." Gerry hesitated. He had been about to say 'fags', but it didn't feel right. "Homosexuals?" he finished.

"They're fuckin' disgustin'," said Anthony, as if that cleared everything up.

"Yes, but why?"

"They just are. And they're fuckin' pussies."

Gerry thought about the Donovan-Samuels boy. He was fairly certain he could have beaten Anthony to a pulp if he wanted to. Certainly not a pussy.

Anthony was not giving Gerry the answers he needed. His objections to Jamie and Callum's lifestyle seemed to be entirely groundless, and that was not what Gerry needed. He had been hoping that Anthony would give him a good, solid reason to continue hating Callum.

Now, faced with Anthony's asinine arguments, Gerry felt unbelievably foolish. At one time or another, he had used those self-same arguments. He had screamed those exact same sentiments at his brother as he had kicked him repeatedly in the head.

Gerry felt sick. His head was swimming and he could feel tears of remorse slicking his eyes. "Anthony, I need you to tell me why the gays are so bad."

Anthony shrugged. "I told you. They just are."

Gerry jumped up and ran to the door, abandoning his laptop and case notes as he went. He banged furiously on the door and the guard let him out. As soon as he was free of the room, he ran to the visitors restroom, locked himself in the cubicle and closed his eyes.

Over the last three years, Gerry had convinced himself the his brother's name was synonymous with the disgusting and the vulgar. Could he really have been so wrong?

Shane seemed perfectly content to spend his time with Jamie and Callum. He even seemed to get along with the Donovan-Samuels boy and his boyfriend. In fact, during Jamie's party, he had practically been Jamie's shadow.

Gerry's eyes shot open. Shane and Jamie were very close. Gerry had known this all along, but he had never considered the connection.

Hesitantly, he reached into his breast pocket and retrieved Shane's phone. His hand shook as he opened the menu and scrolled through Shane's outbound messages.

There were more than fifty messages to Jamie, spanning less than a week. He scrolled down to the first one.

'Mornin babe. Meet @ bus stop?'

Innocuous enough, though the use of the word 'babe' was the first nail in the coffin of Gerry's hope that Shane was normal.

The second message was worse. 'Kk, c u @ urs. We can shower 2geva :P'

Gerry dropped to his knees. He spent a few minutes reading the conversations that Shane had had with Jamie over the last few days. There were a lot of messages about what they were going to do to each other in bed, each one of which wrenched at Gerry's gut. A lot of the messages were signed off 'I love you'.

Grief washed over Gerry. In a peculiar way, he felt like his son had died. The son he had thought he had was gone and was being replaced with a young man who sent messages offering to suck another boy's dick.

Finally it was too much, and on the floor of a restroom in Strangeways Prison, Gerry Carter cried.

"I brought your school things with me, Cal. And your footy kit." Shane chucked the two bags at the skinny thirteen year old. Shane marvelled quietly at how well Callum's body was coming on. He had a cute little four pack and two nicely rounded pecs, though they weren't particularly big.

Callum threw himself back onto Jamie's bed. "I really can't be doing with school today." He put his hands over his eyes and sighed.

Shane chuckled and sat on the bed next to him. He leaned back on one elbow and pulled Callum's hands away from his face. "Let's see. You have to go to school and see your boyfriend, play footy, and occasionally learn a thing or two. I have to go home and tell my Dad that I'm the one thing in the world that he truly hates. Who do you think has it worse here?"

Callum giggled. "Okay; you."

Shane smiled at his cousin. "Come here." He put out his arms for a hug. Callum leaned against Shane while Shane stroked his bare back. "Listen, kiddo. I know that what happened yesterday was fucking shitty, but you have to remember that you've got me and Jamie. No matter what, we'll be here for you."

"Really?" asked Callum, sounding as if he dared not hope.

"Definitely. We both love you."

From the doorway, Jamie said "It's true, sweetie." Jamie was dressed in nothing but a towel and had beads of water trickling down his chest. As he often did, Shane had to remind himself that Jamie was actually HIS. Sometimes, he simply couldn't believe it.

Shane patted Callum's back. "Your turn to shower, Kiddo."

Callum tutted. "You don't have to lie to me. If you two want to fuck, you can just say it."

"Language, young man!" exclaimed Jamie good naturedly. Callum stuck out his tongue. "Anyway, if you hurry up, Shane and I will walk you to school."

"Awesome," beamed Callum, jumping up and hurrying off to the bathroom.

Jamie locked the door behind him and dumped his towel over his desk chair before coming over to straddle Shane's lap. "You're going to be a great Dad," he said, wrapping his arms around Shane's neck and planting a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Thanks. So will you."

"And husband."

Shane smiled. "So you still want me? Even after last night?"

"What can I say? I'm a sucker for a hot guy." He rolled his eyes. "That came out wrong."

Shane laughed. "Hey, you wanna skip college today? We haven't tried the bigger dildo yet." Shane grinned, feeling an involuntary tightening in his groin.

"Thanks, Gina. Yeah, cancel all my appointments. I've got some family business to deal with." Gerry hung up the phone and turned his attention back to driving. He normally found driving therapeutic. Not today; he had too much on his mind.

Strangely, every time Gerry started to get himself worked up over Shane, an emergency vehicle would get in his path and he would have to slow down. If he had been a religious man, he would have thought that God was trying to tell him something.

Gerry finally arrived home at around noon and sat with the car idling for a few minutes, just trying to collect his thoughts. His reverie was abruptly interrupted by the ringing of Shane's phone. Gerry pulled it out of his breast pocket and read the message before realising he was invading his son's privacy for the second time that day.

'y u not in college? D xx'. The message was from Darren Dempster; the young man who had gotten into so much trouble over the summer.

This message annoyed Gerry for three reasons. Firstly, why was Shane hanging around with Darren Dempster again? Secondly, why were there kisses on the end of the message? And thirdly, why wasn't Shane at college?

Gerry yanked at the car door and flew into the house to see his wife. "Where the hell is Shane?!"

Diane stared defiantly at her husband. "After what you did to him last night, do you really think I'm going to tell you that?"

"This isn't about last night. He's skipped college."

"And who's home from work in the middle of the day?" asked Diane sarcastically.

"For fuck's sake, fine. I already have a pretty good idea where he is anyway."

Gerry headed back out to the car and set off to where he knew in his heart Shane would be.

Shane looked at the plate before him and sighed. "Jamie, when I said that I wanted your balls in my mouth, this wasn't what I had in mind." He stuck his fork in one of the meatballs and bit into it.

Jamie giggled. "We can do that later. If I'm skipping college, I at least have to do all the housework so my Mum doesn't go crazy."

"If I help, it'll go faster. Then we can..."

"Yes, Shane. Then we can," said Jamie patiently. After their lunch, Jamie picked up the washing basket full of clean clothes. "I'll be upstairs, putting this lot away. Could you wash the pots for me? That's the only thing left to be done."

"Sure, babe." Shane kissed him and he disappeared up the stairs. Shane set about gathering the pots. He had scrubbed only a few bits and pieces when the doorbell rang.

Sighing heavily, Shane pulled off his marigolds and went to answer. When he pulled the door open, he froze. "Oh shit."

It was his father.

Gerry stepped into the house, pushing Shane backwards as he did until they were both in the lounge. "Let's forget the fact that I told you I didn't want you around Jamie and Callum. What the fuck do you think you're doing skipping college?!"

"Dad, I..."

"I'm still talking. I thought that Jamie had been a good influence on you. You've been so good since you started college. And one argument with your Dad and that goes out the fucking window?"

"Dad, it's not..."

"Still talking! Was this his idea? Or yours?"

Shane sighed. "Mine. Jamie was against it."

"Well at least one of you has a brain. And while we're at it, why are you still in contact with Darren?"

"Because he's my friend! My best friend, besides Jamie."

"Well, that stops now. The same goes for Jamie."

Shane steadied himself and squared up to his father. "No."

"Pardon me?"

"I said no. You can ground me, block my bank account, confiscate my phone and laptop, and I will still find a way to spend time with Jamie."

Gerry slumped into an the armchair and reached into his breast pocket. He pulled out Shane's phone and looked at it with a tired expression. He clicked a few buttons on it and handed it to Shane.

On the screen was a text message. 'I <3 u 2 babe. C u 2moz'. Shane didn't need to guess who the message was from. When Shane looked up, Gerry had his two hands pressed either side of his head.

"Dad. Just ask me the question."

"I don't think I can."

"Dad. I'm still me!" said Shane, dropping to his knees in front of his father and taking one of his hands in both of his own. "I'm still your son."

Gerry jumped up, his eyes slightly moist. "No! You're not. MY son was going to get married. He was going to give me grand-kids. He was going to make me proud! And now all of that's gone." His voice shook as he spoke.

Shane stood up slowly. He put a hand to his eyes to shift the tears that were hovering precariously there. When he spoke, his voice was full of emotion. "No, it's not gone. Gay marriage will be legal one day, and gay adoption already is! We can even have a surrogate if we want our kids to have our DNA."

Gerry kicked the couch. "It's all just words. None of it's the same."

"Except me!" Shane was feeling very upset now. He could see his father emotionally distancing himself from him, and it hurt. "I'm still the same, except now I'm telling you the truth. I'm in love with Jamie!"

"Please, don't say that to me," said Gerry, a tear streaking down his face.

"I have to. I've wanted to say it to you for two months."

Gerry spun on his heel and stared at his son. "Two months?" he asked. Shane thought he could see a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "How can you really know anything after two months? Maybe it's just an infatuation." He was actually smiling now, like he had found the solution.

"Dad. Listen to me, and really hear me. I'm gay."

"No, you're not. You're just confused."

Shane threw his phone at the couch. "Believe what you want, Dad. I've told you the truth. There's not much more I can do."

Gerry stared at his son for a long time. Both were silent, reluctant to continue the conversation.

After what seemed like an eternity, Jamie came bustling into the room. He was holding a dildo in each hand and was looking at the larger of the two with his brow furrowed.

"Babe, are you sure you're ready for the bigger one?" he asked. He looked up and spotted Gerry standing there, staring in horror at what he was holding. Jamie hurriedly stuck his hands behind his back, his eyes going wide in terror.

Gerry stepped slowly toward Jamie. "You perverted little shit." His voice dripped menace, and his top lip was curling in anger. "How dare you violate my son like this!"

Jamie gulped loudly and stepped back, stumbling into the armchair by the window. "I, I didn't...it's-" he stuttered. He was beginning to visibly shake.

Shane saw Gerry's arm raising and his hand curling into a fist. Jamie's eyes followed the movement, going even wider as they did. Gerry was about to punch Jamie, and Shane was not about to let that happen. Shane stepped toward his father, grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face him.

As he did this, he too balled his hand into a fist and with all the force he could muster, he punched his father full in the face.

Gerry stumbled backward into the doorway, his legs flying out from under him.

Shane stood over his father. "Do what you like to me," he said, trying to pour as much hatred into his face as he could. "But I swear, if you ever lay a hand on Jamie-" He paused for dramatic effect. He wanted the next part to sound genuine. "I'll kill you. Now get the fuck out of this house."

Gerry scrambled to his feet, eyeing Shane angrily. He straightened his suit, and fixed his tie. When he opened his mouth to speak, Shane stepped right into him. "I - said - get - out," he almost whispered.

Gerry turned to the door and stormed out, slamming the door as he went.

Finally free to do what he had wanted to do from the moment Gerry had raised his hand to Jamie, Shane turned. He pulled Jamie into his arms and held on to him tightly. Jamie, seeming too stunned to cry, simply shook for a few moments.

"I've got you. He won't hurt you," said Shane, running his fingers through Jamie's hair.

And with that, Jamie cried like a child with a broken heart.

Gerry paced in the Lawrence's front yard, not daring to drive with his temper as frayed as it was. He pulled at his hair and dabbed at his bleeding nose for a minute until he happened to glance at the window into the lounge of the Lawrence home.

Shane was standing cradling Jamie in his arms. His eyes were closed, and by the shape of his lips, it appeared he was shushing Jamie like you would a baby. Gerry looked at Jamie who was crying and desperately clinging to Shane.

Had he caused that? Had he truly terrified Jamie to the point of tears?

He had always known that he had a temper. From being sixteen and beating up a classmate for looking at his girlfriend, he had always been quick to doll out punches. He had found out just how far his temper could carry him when his brother came out of the closet, but this was something new.

In two days he had hit his own son in the face and threatened to hit a boy a full foot shorter than himself.

As a veteran of the legal profession, Gerry knew that that alone was a five year prison sentence. Not only that, but Jamie was gay, making it essentially a hate crime.

Standing looking at Jamie crying his eyes out, Gerry reminded himself that he had come to think of the boy as a second son, at least for a time. He had gone out of his way to emotionally reunite him with his father.

As he stared at the boys, feeling his shame building, his eyes filled with tears. As they did, his vision blurred. He could no longer make out the features of the boys before him. In fact, he could not tell that they were both boys. They just looked like two people holding on to each other, much like he and Diane had when they been at University.

Gerry's head drooped, weighed down by guilt. He wasn't prepared to accept Jamie and Shane's lifestyle, but he was prepared to admit that he was a tyrant.

Gerry walked into the Duck on the Water a little after one and sat in a stool at the bar. He fished around in his pocket and pulled his car keys and his wallet.

He handed three twenty pound notes to Richard the barman, along with his car keys. "Don't let me have either of those back tonight. Whisky."

The barman laughed. "I take it you've been having a rough day." He poured a whisky which Gerry downed in one before handing the empty glass back to him.

Accepting his refill, Gerry laughed bitterly. "I'm having a rough week." He chucked back the second whisky and felt the now familiar warmth spreading through his chest. He smiled in spite of himself, feeling some of the tension he had been feeling dissipate. "Never have kids, Richard."

Richard sighed theatrically. "Too late for that one, pal. Already got three of the blighters."

"Three?" asked Gerry, handing his empty glass back.

"Yep. Two daughters and a son. Mark's the oldest; he's off at Uni doin' a fashion degree. Kelly's just gettin' her GCSEs this year and Lindsay just started high school."

Gerry smiled. "So you've got it all to come with Lindsay. All the drama, the teenage hormones, and the first boyfriend." It felt better to be talking about somebody else's kids.

Richard laughed and handed Gerry his third drink. "Trust me mate, meeting your daughter's first boyfriend is nothing when you've met your SON's first boyfriend."

Gerry nearly choked on his drink. He momentarily wondered if every one in the city had suddenly gone gay. "Your son's...?"

Richard's brow furrowed suspiciously. "Yeah. I hope you don't have a problem with that. I wouldn't want to have to throw you out."

Gerry ignored that question, knowing that his answer was the wrong one. Instead, he leaned over the bar toward Richard and whispered conspiratorially "How did you handle it? When he told you, I mean."

"What, Mark? Well, I always kinda knew. He was never the manliest. He asked for a Barbie for his eighth birthday, so it wasn't really that much of a shock when he told me. Still, I got angry. I called him a few choice names."

"Then?"

Richard topped off Gerry's drink again. "Then, I looked at him. I mean, really looked at him. He wasn't a different kid, 'cause he was still mine. My little lad. The same lad I tried to teach football and who had insisted that the football had to be pink before I did." Richard smiled at his own memory. "He's my little boy, and just 'cause he takes it up the chuff, dun't make him any less mine." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He flicked it open and handed it to Gerry.

There was a photograph of a young man and two young girls. The two girls were very pretty, presumable taking after their mother. The boy, however, had similar features to Richard, though on him they looked slightly feminine. His hair was bleach blond and if Gerry wasn't mistaken, he was wearing eye-liner.

Gerry handed the wallet back. "Good looking family." Gerry pulled out his own wallet and showed Richard the photo of himself and Shane. "That's my lad; Shane. He told me he's gay an hour ago."

Saying the words left a slightly bitter taste in his mouth, but it also alleviated some of the guilt he had been feeling.

Richard looked pointedly at the glass of whisky in Gerry's hand. "And I take it the news wasn't well received?"

"I seriously doubt that any parent has ever been glad to hear it."

"No, but sitting here gettin' wasted in the middle of the afternoon isn't good for either of you."

"Either of us?" asked Gerry.

Richard leaned on the bar. "You're here, drowning your sorrows. Your son is off somewhere, probably heartbroken that you felt the need to do that."

Gerry looked into his glass, feeling the guilt return.

"Gerry, mate. Your kid loves you, and now he needs you to tell him you love him too. Life's hard for the gays, and they need their parents to help them through it." Richard poured Gerry another drink. "Google the suicide rate for the gays. Then decide if you really want to make it worse."

Gerry sat staring at his glass, swilling the brown liquid around the edges. "Richard? Where's Johnny?"

"You mean Johnny Lawrence? He hasn't been in today."

Gerry smiled. "It's a start," he muttered.

Johnny Lawrence had been a proud man in his day. Before he had been made redundant he had been on the path to a managerial position. That was the dream for him.

The last four years were a bit of a blur to him, though he could remember everything that ever went wrong for him. He didn't blame the world; he blamed his own reaction. He could have found another solution, besides hitting the bottle.

The worst part of it was his most recent memory. Watching his son take a step back from him had been the wake up call he had needed, and he would have missed it if it hadn't been for Gerry. He owed Gerry a lot.

For now, however, there were things to be done.

Jamie and his boyfriend were upstairs talking. Johnny had thought he'd heard crying, but he didn't trust his senses yet. He took advantage of the time alone to do something he should have done a long time ago. He went to his liquor cabinet in the lounge and grabbed as many bottles as he could carry at once.

He lugged them all into the kitchen and one by one, poured each one down the drain.

Watching whisky, vodka, rum and gin swirling down the drain, Johnny felt odd. It was a strange mixture of chagrin and pride.

Finally, having poured nearly two hundred pounds worth of spirits down the drain, he picked up the house phone.

It rang twice. "Good Afternoon, Valentine Medical Centre. How can I help?"

"My name is Jonathan Lawrence. I need to see somebody about alcohol abuse."

I'm so sorry for the delay. The chapters are getting longer, and that means they take me longer to write. I'm trying though!

I hope you enjoyed this. Any comments and questions are welcome. Please feel free to email me with your thoughts at thebobbyfish@gmail.com. Your emails are all very welcome, and I will try to answer ever single one of them!

Keep an eye out for Chapter Twenty Two!