Daniels Secret Ch 01

"Did you hear me, Daniel?"

"Yes, sir."

"I understand that this has come as a shock to you. I'd like to offer my condolences."

"Thank you, sir."

The dean frowned. There was something eerie over the young man's face. He had been forced to deliver bad news to students before, and was used to seeing people getting so shocked by the news that they couldn't fully understand the situation. But this boy... he stood there, without any expression whatsoever on his face. Not sadness, not surprise. It was as if they were merely exchanging phrases about the weather. What was wrong with the boy?

"As I said, I understand that this may be hard to take in," said the dean. "I want you to know that there's an excellent therapist on campus, if you'd like to talk to someone."

"Thank you sir, but that won't be necessary," said Daniel politely.

Again, the dean had a spooky feeling that the boy was telling the truth – he was in no way upset about the news he'd just been told. It was as if he didn't feel anything at all.

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

"It's all over campus," said Ray, and closed the door behind him.

Daniel didn't look up from his homework. His room-mate sat down by the foot of Daniel's bed and placed a hand over the book Daniel was reading. Daniel looked up and frowned.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said.

"I'm sorry, man," said Ray. "I know it's hard. My dad died when I was 13..."

"I said: I don't want to talk about it!"

Daniel pushed Ray's hand away, and buried his face in the book again. Ray shrugged his shoulders, grabbed a towel, and went to take a shower. He stopped and turned around in the doorway.

"I just wanted to say... I'm there for you, OK?" said Ray. "If you ever wanna talk, I mean."

"I'm cool, but thanks," said Daniel, again without looking up.

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

Whomever tried to say anything to Daniel Jennings about the tragic death of his parents was met with the same polite brush-off. The only one he DID talk to was the lawyer handling the paper works, and that mostly came down to which dotted line to sign. When Ray came back from a successful algebra test two weeks later, he found his room-mate packing a bag.

"Where are you going?" he asked, suddenly worried. "You're not dropping out, are ya?"

"No, I just need to go home and clear out the house," said Daniel. "You know... pack their stuff up. I'll only be gone for the weekend."

"Aw, fuck!" said Ray. "That's gonna be hard. Do you want some help?"

Daniel stood quiet for a long time, staring at a sweater he was holding. Ray almost thought his friend hadn't heard a word he'd said. Then Daniel looked up, looking almost shy.

"Thank you," he said. "I'd appreciate that."

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

20 minutes later, they were driving south in Daniel's old Dodge.

"What are you gonna do with their stuff?" Ray asked.

"Give it to charity," said Daniel, sounding as if he didn't care.

"What about their car?" said Ray. "You're gonna get rid of this old piece of junk, or what?"

"I'm gonna sell their car," said Daniel. "I don't want it."

"Gotta be better than this one?" said Ray. "What do they have?"

"A station wagon," said Daniel. "From -93."

"I'd keep that, and get rid of this, if I were you," said Ray.

"I bought this car for money I earned myself," said Daniel, shaking his head. "This is MY car. I'm NOT changing it."

Ray wisely changed the subject. Living in the same dorm room with Daniel for 2 years had taught him when to drop an issue. They rolled on further south.

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

The Jennings' house was a small, neat suburban house with a well-kept garden. It looked very much like all the other houses down the street.

"Geez, man, what is this place?" said Ray. "Wisteria Lane?"

"Pretty much," said Daniel. "Hurry up, we better get inside before any of the old bats sees us and comes over!"

The boys went inside and put their bags in the hallway. The house was dark and smelled a bit stale from not having been aired for two weeks. Ray got a creepy feeling from the place. There were laces and frills everywhere, and everything was clean and in order. The whole thing reminded him more of an exhibit than a home. He turned to Daniel, and frowned. His friend was staring into the kitchen as if he could see and hear people in there. His body was stiff like a board.

"Danny?"

Daniel jumped and stared at Ray as if he was surprised to see him there.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," said Ray.

"No problem," said Daniel, relaxing somewhat. "It's just strange to think that they're not coming back – it's like they're a part of the interior of this house, you know?"

"I know," said Ray, putting a hand on Daniel's shoulder.

"Well, we better get started," said Daniel. "Let's start with the living room."

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

They sorted and packed all the contents of the drawers and cupboards, putting them in piles labelled "for charity" and "junk". It took them all afternoon to clear out the room.

"I'm starved," said Ray. "Do we have anything to eat, or should we go and get a burger?"

"Knowing my mum, the fridge's probably full," said Daniel. "Yep, I was right. Fix the table, I'll fry us some ham and eggs and potatoes."

Not much later, they sat down to eat. Ray dug in, hungry like a wolf, but he stopped when he saw Daniel smile at him.

"What?" he said.

"Just thinking..." said Daniel. "I think this must be the first time anyone's had a meal at this table without saying grace first."

"Oh, sorry!" said Ray. "I was so hungry, I didn't think..."

"It's OK," said Daniel. "When have you ever seen ME pray, anyway? I was just thinking that my parents always said grace before eating. I'm not into religion."

Ray reflected that this was the first time in 2 weeks that he had seen Daniel smile.

"I saw a photo of you and your parents," said Ray. "How come you threw it in the junk-pile?"

"Didn't think it was charity material," said Daniel.

"Don't you want to keep it?" said Ray. "Speaking of that, how come you don't have any pile for stuff you wanna save?"

"I don't want to keep anything," said Daniel. "Not a thing."

"Not even a photo to remember them by?" said Ray.

"Look, Ray..." Daniel pulled a hand through his hair. "We didn't get along well, OK? I don't WANT to remember them. I just wanna get rid of all their stuff, sell the car and the house, and get back to college. OK?"

Ray couldn't understand what Daniel's parents could possibly have done to deserve such coldness from their only son. He himself was very close to his own family, and he'd been devastated when his father died. But Daniel's tone of voice told him it was best not to ask, so he held back.

The next room to clear out was the dining room, which didn't take long, seeing as there wasn't much stuff in it. Still, they were both tired and sweaty by the time they were finished, and after showering, they fixed an extra bed in Daniel's room and collapsed on it.

"I can't remember the last time I was this tired," Daniel sighed.

"I can't believe your room is so tidy!" said Ray. "My old room was always a mess."

"My mother didn't like it if I messed up my room," said Daniel.

"That explains why your half of our room back in the dorm looks so much neater than mine!" Ray teased.

Daniel went over to his own bed and pulled the covers over him.

"What about when you had friends over as a kid?" said Ray. "Weren't you allowed to mess up your room then either?"

"I never had any friends over," said Daniel. "You're the first."

"What? Why..?"

"Mother didn't want me to invite anyone. I could go over to other people's houses, though."

"Was your mum some sort of a control freak or something?"

"Or something. Night,Ray!"

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

They continued the sorting and packing the next day, and even drove some of the stuff over to Mrs Quimby, the head of the local charity committee. Mrs Quimby was a short, fat woman with a tiny mouth and curious eyes. She showered Daniel in condolences and tried to interrogate him about his future plans, but he only gave her vague answers. She gave Ray sideways glances the whole time.

"What was that all about?" said Ray, as they drove back to the Jennings' house. "She kept looking at me as if I was gonna steal something!"

"She's a racist," said Daniel. "Most people around here are."

"Fuck!" said Ray. "Were your parents racists, too?"

"My mum was OK," said Daniel. "She had some issues, but compared to the rest of the town, she was pretty open-minded."

"Let's get rid of your stuff and get out of here," Ray sulked. "This whole place gives me the creeps!"

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

That same night, by dinner time, they had cleared out every room except Daniel's bedroom and the master bedroom. They fried up some home-made burgers and ate quietly. Daniel chewed slowly, as if wanted the dinner to last for hours. Ray finally tore the plate away from him.

"Come on!" he said. "If we hurry, we can be done by tonight! Then we can head out of here early in the morning!"

Daniel reluctantly followed him up to the master bedroom. It was small and dark and not very cozy. Ray put some empty boxes on the floor, and looked up at Daniel. His friend walked trough the room in a daze. His hand traced the top of a small dresser. He grabbed hold of its edges, as if he was going to lift it, and leaned over it. He stood up, picked up a family photo in a silver frame, and looked at it. His hand began to shake violently. Ray was about to say something comforting, when Daniel suddenly flung the photo across the room. The frame and the glass broke as it hit the wall.

"What the fuck are you doing???"

Daniel leaned over the dresser again, his head hanging down, his shoulders shaking. Ray took a step closer. Daniel turned around, and Ray bounced back when he saw that his friend wasn't crying but laughing.

"Are you crazy?" he asked.

"I hated him," Daniel giggled. "And I despised her! I'm glad they're dead."

"You don't mean that," said Ray. "That's your grief talking, man."

"I hated him!" Daniel shouted. "I – hated – him!"

He opened a drawer and pulled out a belt.

"See this?" he said. "Do you know what you do with this? You make little boys obey, that's what!"

He swung the belt like a whip over the dresser. It hit a jar that fell to the floor and was smashed.

"Your dad beat you?" said Ray. "With a belt?"

"He wasn't my father, he was my step-dad!" said Daniel. "My dad died before I was born."

"Seriously – did he beat you with a belt?"

"He made me stand bent over this dresser. He'd beat me for at least half an hour. The older he got, the shorter time he could keep at it."

"What did you do?"

"Annoyed him. It could be anything. The rules changed every day. Sometimes he'd beat me up for 'only getting a B´. Sometimes it would be because I yawned at the breakfast table. Once he punched me in the face for dropping my fork on the floor. I think he got off on it."

"What an asshole! What about your mum? Didn't she try to stop him?"

"My mother... she turned up the volume of the radio – so the neighbours wouldn't hear."

"What a bitch! Man..!"

Ray pulled Daniel into his arms and hugged him. Daniel leaned his head against Ray's shoulder and finally gave in to the tears that were many years overdue. Ray didn't know what to say or do. He'd never seen another guy cry before, and wasn't sure how to handle the situation. He had some dull instinct that kept him standing still, hugging his friend. He even fought against 20 years of tradition, and refrained himself from the usual clapping on the back that he'd come to see as a regular feature of a manly hug. He could sense that cheerfulness and male cockiness wasn't what Daniel needed right now.

"Come on," he said. "Let's leave this room for now."

They went to Daniel's room, and Ray made Daniel take his clothes off and go to bed.

"Don't go!" said Daniel. "Please... I don't feel too well. Will you stay with me?"

Ray sat down next to him.

"Did you ever tell anyone that you were beaten at home?" he asked.

"Once," said Daniel. "In 4th grade. We had this substitute math teacher... she was very nice. I told her... she talked to my mother, and my mother told her that I was always exaggerating – that my stepfather had only spanked me once, to punish me for shoplifting. My teacher believed her and advised me to be more obedient."

Ray cussed.

"My mother told my stepfather, and he gave me a thrashing and swore that he'd break one of my arms if I ever told anyone again. Not that he had any reason to... I'd already learned that no-one believed me anyway."

Daniel sounded bitter.

"Your stepdad was a sicko!" said Ray. "I can understand why you're glad he's gone!"

"You know what the weird part is?" said Daniel. "I hate my mother even more than I hate him. He was just my stepfather – and he was an asshole. But my mother... she didn't say or do anything to help me. She covered for him. Took his side... against her own son!"

Daniel's voice broke, and he started crying again. Ray stroked his shoulder. Daniel buried his face in the pillow. Ray couldn't hear him cry, but his friend's shaking shoulders showed that he did. Ray got a sudden vision of his baby sister, crying over a lost friend, and he reacted the same way he had done back then. He lied down next to Daniel, put his arms around him, and pulled close like he had been a small child.

Touching, hugging, and showing affection in public, had been common in Ray's family, and he didn't feel weird lying next to his best friend, stroking his arm and resting his chin against Daniel's hair. Daniel's body was tense at first, then he slowly relaxed and leaned on to Ray's chest, sobbing. When his breathing began to stabilize, he looked up, looked into Ray's brown eyes, and felt Ray's warm breath against his face. Daniel wet his lips. They could never say who initiated the kiss, but there it was Two mouths, two pairs of lips, two wet tongues; softness, warmth, wetness, gentle touch, growing passion. No words, just hands travelling over warm and sweaty bodies, hands caressing hard muscles and gripping swollen dicks. Hands moving up and down over hard shafts.

Daniel broke free from Ray's mouth and kissed his neck instead, kissed his collarbone, his chest, licked on his dark nipples, moved down to the navel, rimmed it, and continued down. Ray held his breath, and exhaled shakily when his hard dick entered something warm and wet and soft. Daniel sucked him, clumsy at first, but then he got the technique right and moved his head up and down, doing his best to take as much of Ray's dick in. Ray moaned. His hips began to move by themselves. He pulled his fingers through Daniel's blond hair, it was long enough to grab on to, and he had to stop himself from taking a firm grip on his friend's hair and start fucking his mouth. What was happening tonight was too strange and too wonderful to screw up. He forced himself to lie still and endure the sweetest torture he'd ever felt, and soon he felt his tension build up, and he exploded with a loud groan and sprayed Daniel's face with his cum. Daniel closed his eyes to save them from being drenched. He wiped the cum off his face and looked up at Ray.

"Come here!" Ray whispered huskily.

Daniel lied down close to him, and Ray caressed Daniel's back and ass, moved his hand over to his friend's stomach and chest, pulled a trace down to the crotch. He didn't feel he could actually go down on him, but he could jerk him off. He moved his hand over Daniel's hard tool and kissed him again, deeply, sensually, while he jerked him off. Daniel arched his body closer to Ray, held on to his broad shoulders, and moaned into his mouth when he came. Ray wiped the cum off his hand, and pulled Daniel closer. He pulled the covers over them, and they lied there, in each others' arms, listening to the other one's breathing, both wondering what the fuck was happening, until they dozed off.

TO BE CONTINUED...