High School Romance

The windows of the house were dark but Brady knew better than to hope Steve was sleeping. He used his key to open the door. He saw the flash of movement just in time to deflect the punch. The smell of beer hit him like a train, pushing away the remnants of Ezra's baby shampoo scented hair.

Brady's vision clouded with anger. He was barely aware of the sounds of crashing and grunting. All he could think of was to punch and kick, anything to end it.

An awful screeching sound filled the room and the grown man and teenager stopped their fighting. Brady's mom was holding a broken plate in her hand.

"This was the last fucking piece of my wedding China, Brady! I swear, you just have to destroy everything I have, don't you?!"

Brady wanted to shout that it wasn't just him, but he'd given up on that a long time ago. He knew where her loyalties were.

"Just get out!" she screamed.

Brady started to stand. Steve took the opportunity to punch Brady in the gut one last time as he limped towards the door, cussing and trying not to cry. He was facing another night sleeping in his truck. It just wasn't right, after the beauty of what had happened between him and Ezra. That memory brought back warmth to him and it was like something drew his eyes to the heap of cloth in his passenger seat. His jacket. He brought it to his face and laid down as comfortably as he could. All he could smell at first was his musty cologne, but he could detect traces of baby shampoo and lavender. Ezra.

It was insane how someone that had never spoken a word had changed his entire outlook on life. Other things mattered less now.

Saturday morning passed in a blur. The fundraiser was a success, but Brady never really cared about that.

Sunday dragged on until finally it was Monday, the first day of Spirit Week, and the cafeteria was buzzing with talk of the homecoming dance, so of course it was the topic of conversation at Brady's lunch table. He didn't care about the dance so he was silent.

"Man, I got so many girls wantin' to go with me," Paul bragged. "I don't know what I'm gonna do."

Brady rolled his eyes and glanced over to where Ezra sat. He had noticed that sometimes idiots would go and mess with Ezra. He wasn't going to allow it to continue. Everything looked fine.

"Hello? Brady?" a female voice interrupted his thought.

"What?" he said.

"I was asking if you have a date yet," Abby prompted.

Brady took a quick look at the blond cheerleader he had hooked up with once. She looked hopeful and that wasn't a good sign. He had to make it clear there was no chance that he would ask her or anyone. "Oh, I wasn't planning on going."

Several of his friends spoke at once. "It's your senior year!" "You can't miss this!" "You gotta come!"

"I just don't feel like it. It's always the same music and same decorations. I've been there, done that. I have better things to do."

They continued to try to convince him to show up, but he didn't want to. He didn't want some chick in a short skirt rubbing all over him. There was only one person he wanted to go with, and that would be too dangerous. There were no homosexuals in Westmore. There were more churches than school buildings. Still, Brady wished there was a way that they could share a dance.

**

When Brady arrived at his truck after the team predictably won the game, he saw Ezra already waiting there and couldn't help but smile. "Hey," he said, opening the passenger side door and helping Ezra up into the cab.

He drove to their spot, thinking how amazing it was that Ezra had taken the initiative to seek him out.

As he helped Ezra out of the truck he wrapped his letterman around the smaller boy's shoulders. Ezra smiled and looked up at Brady, the stars reflected in his eyes.

"You really look beautiful. I hope you know that." He knelt down and kissed Ezra's lips softly.

Suddenly, an idea struck him. "Hold on," he said, staring longingly at Ezra for a moment before opening the glove compartment. The mix CD of romantic songs had been there since he started sleeping around, but for once, he was using it for something good. He skipped to the last song and turned up the volume.

"Will you dance with me?"

Ezra blushed and looked away shyly.

"No one will see," Brady promised. He held out his hand and Ezra took it. They held each other close and swayed to the music. When the song ended, Brady bent down to kiss Ezra. Ezra's arms were locked around Brady's neck and Brady lifted him up. Ezra's legs wrapped around Brady's waist. Brady carefully carried him to the back of the truck and set him on the tailgate. They broke their kiss long enough for Brady to jump into the bed of the truck with Ezra, but soon their lips were locked together again. Ezra's hands slid over Brady's chest, exploring, and finally settling over his heart.

Brady backed away and started to lift Ezra's layers of shirts. Ezra's hands quickly stopped him.

"I just want to see," he whispered. "Please."

Ezra moved his hands away and looked up at the sky. Brady lifted Ezra's shirts up and started kissing his chest. He was moving down slowly, moving his tongue and lips over the lily white skin. He got down to Ezra's stomach to find that Ezra had covered it with his arms.

"It's alright," Brady said softly. "You don't have to let me see you. But just know that no matter what I see, you'll still be beautiful to me."

Ezra's eyes were filling with tears and Brady felt like his heart would burst. He hated this. The only tears he wanted to see from Ezra were tears of joy. He kissed Ezra's damp cheeks and whispered in his ear, "There's nothing you could do to change the fact that...I love you."

Ezra was so shocked by the statement that he stopped crying and just stared up at Brady's face. Slowly, he moved his arms away, cringing as he felt Brady's eyes slide down his body.

In stark contrast to his pale white skin, dark scars spelling the word SLUT were etched across Ezra's stomach. Brady stared for a while, wondering who had done that and how he could punish them. Brady gently kissed one of the scars and Ezra's stomach quivered. Brady traced the word in kisses, and then ran his tongue along every letter. Brady smiled as he felt Ezra squirming and heard soft, happy cooing sounds.

"I love you," Brady said again. He liked saying it to Ezra and seeing his sweet smile as he heard it. Brady returned to Ezra's mouth and started to kiss him. Ezra's hands were slipping up Brady's shirt, exploring his six pack abs and wide chest. Brady pulled his shirt off and leaned back to allow Ezra to do what he pleased.

It was amazing. Brady had never felt anything like it. Ezra slid his hands over every part of Brady's chest, staring intently as he did so. His hand brushed over a raised scar on Brady's left pec and Ezra paused. He looked up at Brady and patted his own stomach as if to say 'We both have scars'. The old wound was from a knife, wielded by Brady's mother. It was about four inches long and had required stitches. Ezra gently kissed the scar, his lips like feathers, and then he trailed his tongue down to Brady's nipple and kissed that too.

Brady had told himself to take it slow, but he couldn't stop himself from reaching down to unbutton Ezra's jeans.

Ezra shyly backed away, but Brady kept holding him close.

"You can trust me," he said. "I would never hurt you. I just want to make you feel good." Brady started to kiss Ezra and soon he felt something warm and moist pressing against his stomach. He looked down to see that the head of Ezra's member had worked its way out of the elastic waistband of his underwear. Brady ran his thumb over the little bead of pre-cum and Ezra clutched him closer.

"Just let me take care of you, angel," Brady said. "I don't expect anything from you."

Ezra wiggled his pants down to his knees and Brady smiled. He hoped that he would do it right as he brought his face down to Ezra's erection that was so desperate to escape. He'd definitely never done this for another guy, but girls had done it to him and he was sure he knew how. He pulled Ezra's briefs down and massaged with his hand until it had grown to full size. Ezra shivered when Brady started to take it into his mouth. Brady smiled the best he could with so much in his mouth. He started to move his tongue around, letting his spit run down the length so he could start to work it with his hand. Ezra moaned softly and Brady started to suck more into his mouth and bob his head.

Ezra's whole body was shaking with pleasure. His hips were moving gently in time with Brady. He was so close to letting go and he wanted it. No one had ever made him feel like this, but Brady did. Ezra felt warm and safe and healed as he let go and allowed Brady to show him feelings he'd never known.

Brady could feel that Ezra was ready and prepared himself. In the distant past, Brady remembered none of his ex-girlfriends ever wanted to swallow him. But Brady was going to do it for Ezra. He was going to show Ezra that no matter what he would be there. It was all he wanted anymore.

Ezra gasped and Brady felt warm liquid fill his mouth. Four times, the sperm shot at the back of his throat, washing over his tongue. It was a new taste to him, but not a bad one. He tilted his head and swallowed.

Ezra immediately started kissing Brady, showing how thankful he was. Brady kissed him for a while and then tentatively slid his hand through the clothing and onto Ezra's bare back. He remembered well the last time he'd tried that. But this time, Ezra wasn't afraid. He laid his head on Brady's chest as Brady's hand brushed over at least twenty long, soft, raised scars. Brady wondered who had done this. All he could imagine was some heartless son of a bitch beating Ezra, leaving marks, branding that word across his stomach. It made Brady mad. He wanted to make someone pay for what had happened.

"Ezra, who hurt you?"

Despite their new closeness, Ezra did not speak. Still, Brady was desperate to know.

"Do you live with the person who did this?"

Ezra shook his head. No, he didn't live with them. Brady was glad. If Ezra had said yes, they would be on the road to somewhere far away.

"Does this person ever come near you or speak to you?"

Again the answer was no. Brady was somewhat sure that Ezra wouldn't be hurt again, but still Brady was going to make someone pay.

As much as he hated to, Brady knew it was time for them to go their separate ways.

Brady drove Ezra back to the high school and this time Ezra rode in the middle seat, his head on Brady's shoulder and his hand playing with Brady's hair. Brady stepped out of the truck to help Ezra and they kissed good night.

**

Saturday morning came and Brady woke up with a headache. When his friends called to invite him to the mall, he told them he was sick. His mom, stepdad, and the two children they had together had gone out for the day, leaving Brady with a house to himself. He was looking forward to sleeping. That afternoon, there was a knock at his door.

Brady hoped it would be Ezra, but instead it was Paul. His big green truck was in the drive way, engine running, with the blond cheerleader in the passenger seat.

"What do you want?" Brady asked.

"Just checkin' up on you," Paul said.

"Man, I know you don't like me. Why are you really here?"

Paul smiled grossly and said, "Well, I saw something last night."

Brady felt a bit alarmed, but didn't show it. "What?"

"I know you been hangin' out with that retarded piano bitch. I'm gonna find out what's goin' on."

Brady wanted to punch Paul in his smug face, but he knew he had to be careful. It wasn't just him anymore. He had to think about Ezra. "You're wasting your time."

"Maybe. But unless you let me have your starting position for the rest of the season, I'm gonna tell everyone and we'll all waste our time." Paul turned and left.

Brady watched the truck rumble away and felt more and more panicked. Surely Paul couldn't know. Maybe he had seen Ezra near Brady's truck and was just trying to start something. He couldn't know that he was close to the truth.

Brady paced the kitchen, trying as hard as he could to come up with some solution. He would give up his starting position. That was no problem. But that wouldn't be enough. It wouldn't be long before Paul wanted more.