One Little Bruise

This is a copyrighted work of fiction. All rights are reserved.

First Edit: edthe3rd2003

Final Edit: WickedWendyDru

My Dear Wicked One,

Thank you for challenging me as a fledgling writer, and for your unfailing support in helping me to meet those challenges. You make me think about what I am writing, and keep me true to my characters. Thank you for not punishing me for all the little grammatical mistakes I make; blinking modifiers, lazy tense, and dingy particles... or whatever. We both know that if you took a ruler to my knuckles every time I bent the language over and humped it mercilessly, I would be in too much pain to ever type again! Last, but not least, thank you for "getting me".

Please note that any errors found in this dedication are due to the fact that my editor did not get a crack at it first.

Continued from Chapter One

"Uh, I guess I better get out, so you can go," Jamie said, nervous now that their laughter from his explanation of the bruise had subsided. Jamie shifted to climb off Sam's lap, but stopped when Sam's hand tightened on his thigh. Jamie's spine stiffened and he stilled, but he couldn't meet those piercing blue eyes. The intensity of their encounter was fading fast, and he honestly couldn't believe that this - whatever this was - would go any further. Surely the man was about to give him the brush off. Sam was by all accounts straight.

Right?

Sam slipped a knuckle under Jamie's jaw and tilted his face back. Jamie's teeth worried at his lip as Sam opened his mouth to speak, but his gaze zeroed in on Jamie's mouth like a heat-seeking missile. The big guy lost his train of thought as his system went on red alert. He used his thumb to pull Jamie's abused lip free and with his hunger's need locked on the plump flesh of its beguiling target he swooped in for a kiss, lips firm and demanding. Destroyed all over again, Jamie's body melted against Sam.

Sam groaned at the feel of the boy's slight weight settling, once again, into his lap. He let his hand drift down from that small, pointed chin to squeeze briefly on his baby's throat where his pulse beat wildly. Jamie whimpered, and his hips thrust involuntarily at the pressure on his neck; Sam made a mental note of the hot spot. Damn, the little guy's response to his every touch made him feel ten feet tall.

Caressing further down the lean body to slide under Jamie's shirt, he pulled his mouth back to lick and nibble at the sweet, swollen lips as he let his fingers trail over the ridges of warm abdominal muscles. Jamie's belly spasmed under Sam's caresses, the muscles and skin all dancing, incredibly alive and exciting, totally different than any girl Sam had ever felt up. But then, Jamie wasn't a girl, was he?

Whimpering into Sam's mouth, Jamie brought his trembling hand to rest on Sam's larger one, as it traced and teased over his skin. Sam felt hot and hard all over. His boy got to him something fierce that was for sure. As he pondered getting Jamie out of those jeans a second time, Sam wondered why he'd never had these kind of thoughts about any other guys. Then Jamie whined, twisted against him, and Sam couldn't think about anything except the bundle of writhing hotness in his lap.

Someone yanked the driver's side door open making Sam and Jamie jump a mile as cold moist air poured in carrying the clean scent of rain. Jamie jerked his head around and screamed as he faced the small blond standing beside the car. Sam took in the matching mops of hair, large brown eyes, and identical startled expressions on their faces and realized this must be Jamie's sister. The way Jamie's face morphed from one expression to another, becoming a study in abject horror, Sam totally expected to see an angry mob armed with fiery torches, pitchforks, and slavering hounds -- not just this one small, female family member.

"Casey, uh, I was just getting ready to come in the house. Mom's going to be late, and I thought you were working tonight. Just let me get my stuff, and I'll go in and reheat the leftovers from last night. I could make a fresh salad if you want..." Sam tried not to laugh as his baby scrambled around and went into babble mode. Sam took a bony elbow in his solar plexus, grunted, and turned to get a better look at the petite blond now standing with her arms crossed. A sly, catty expression replaced her surprise of just a minute ago. Okay, maybe the boy did have something to fear.

"No problem, Bro." She returned Sam's regard with a steady gaze of her own. "Don't let me interrupt your make out session with..." her words broke off as Jamie squeaked, bringing both her and Sam's attention back to him as he sat down with a plop. He'd half climbed over the seat, struggling to retrieve his book bag. Sam hated missing that. He wouldn't have helped Jamie, but he would've copped a quick feel. It's not like Casey didn't already know that something had been going on between them.

Oh, wait. Was Jamie out to his family?

"NO! We weren't... Uh, I-I mean, Sam was just, uh, giving m-me a ride home-" Jamie said, stammering.

"By way of his lap?" Casey's voice was nothing short of caustic.

"Uh, the passenger door latch is broken, and I had to climb over?" Sam's head volleyed back and forth between the two siblings as they bantered.

"And I guess he was assisting you out of the car with his tongue?" Sam choked on a laugh, and attempted to cover it with a cough. Neither one of them acknowledged him.

"Casey, you're not going to say anything to Mom, are you?" Jamie's eyes were pleading and bright with the possibility of tears. Sam's chest tightened painfully. He didn't want his boy upset over anything. Especially not over anything that happened between them.

"Not tell her what? That you're fogging up a car with someone in the front yard, or that the person in question has a penis?" Okay, that answered the question of whether or not Jamie was out.

Not.

"Both." Jamie's voice was quiet and resigned. He looked down and blinked rapidly, still fighting tears. Jamie's sister's expression softened for a second then quickly hardened again. The mounting tension was getting to him, so Sam climbed out of the car, forcing Casey back to allow him room. The girl stared holes into him as he reached down to grab Jamie's books.

"Goddamn!" Grunting, Sam lifted the bulging bag. "Did you leave anything in the library?" Jamie scrambled out through the driver's side door and reached for the backpack. "No, Jamie, I got this." Sam strode to the front porch of the small ranch-style house. The yard was well maintained and he was certain he had delivered mulch here for his dad's landscaping business. The siblings followed him, Casey giving him the stink eye, and Jamie fumbling nervously with his cell phone. Sam dropped the bag by the door and snatched the phone from Jamie. He sent himself a brief text so that he'd have Jamie's number and handed it back. The little blond tyrant opened the door and paused, staring. Jamie grabbed his bag and stared down at it.

"Thanks again for the ride, Sam," he mumbled.

"No problem. What time can I pick you up for school in the morning?" He had the impression that he needed to get a firm grasp on the skittish kid, before the boy talked himself out of following through with their budding relationship.

RELATIONSHIP?

That must be his last remaining bit of sanity catching the echo inside his numb and disbelieving brain. He was supposed to hook up with Amy Spires this Friday. Amy the cheerleader with the large rack and the rumored nonexistent gag reflex, and he felt absolutely nothing for her or about her at the moment. All he felt right now was the urgency of dealing with whatever he had to deal with if this thing with Jamie was what he truly wanted. Well, deal he would, because yeah, he definitely wanted. He'd always been one to jump in with both feet once he chose his pool.

Jamie just gaped at him like a fish out of water, but his sister was quick to respond. "7:30!" Sam had the feeling she wasn't trying to be helpful, but just liked to stir shit up. Jamie turned his open-mouthed stare to her, and Sam took the opportunity to plant a kiss on his baby's flushed cheek. Sam bolted off the porch and made a fast getaway before Jamie could protest tomorrow's arrangement. When Sam heard his boy mutter, "Mother

fuck

!" before he stomped past his snickering sister, he laughed all the way to the car.

Sam's mind was a mass of conflicting thoughts on the drive home. Did this mean that he was gay? He'd never thought about doing anything with another dude before Jamie. He always enjoyed sex with the girls he hooked up with in the past, but he was up front and honest with them: no strings, no relationships. Sam was the master of the one-time fuck. Shouldn't there have been at least one girl that he wanted to do more than just bust a nut with in the whole of his sexual career? What did it say about him that he'd never formed an emotional relationship with a girl? Sam stopped at the gate of his driveway and absently entered the code to unlock it, still wrapped up in his thoughts.

He wanted more than sex with Jamie, a lot more. Sure, he wanted to sexually wreck the kid, too, just fucking tear him apart. He shifted uncomfortably in the seat watching the gate open, just thinking of all the different things he wanted to do to that tight little body. But he wanted to spend time with him in an upright position, too. Not that he couldn't fuck him in an upright position. If Jamie just wrapped his arms around Sam's neck, Sam could support that slight weight with his hands on that little ass and just plow into... Sam shook the image out of his head. Other upright things. Like dates. In public? With a guy? Hmm, should he keep him on the down low?

No, he didn't want to keep the kid as a dirty little secret. He grinned, and admitted to himself that the little shit wouldn't stand for that in any case. Jamie was a sexy little spitfire when in a temper. The kid had a tender heart, though and if Sam suggested they hide this relationship he somehow knew he would wound that tender heart, as well as instantly losing any and all chance with Jamie. He'd rather kick a kitten. Hell, a whole bag of kittens. So, that meant dating a guy out in the open where people were going to see. He parked the car in front of his house, and let the concept roll around in his head. Shouldn't the idea of what people were going to think bother him? It didn't. In fact, he was sure he didn't give a rat's ass what anyone thought.

Huh, how about that?

Walking in the front door, he turned into the kitchen where he could hear his family talking. A glance at the clock startled him, and he wasn't sure how it had gotten so late. His mom, dad, and granddad were already eating dinner at the small table in the kitchen that his mother preferred for its simple homey feel over the large formal dining room they used for social gatherings. Sam paused by his mom's chair and leaned over to kiss her cheek.

"See, Maggie," his granddad said, "the boy isn't dead in a ditch anywhere. He's just too inconsiderate to use his phone and call his mother. Why should you be worried just because he was driving that old land yacht in the gully washer that just went through?"

"Sorry." He smiled at them sheepishly before going to wash his hands in the sink.

"What kept ya, boy?" His dad's voice was gruff, as usual, but showed he shared his mother's concern. His dad was an inch or two shorter than Sam, but the older man's powerful frame was heavily muscled from years of landscaping. Frank Bricker was the company's owner, but he'd never been one to sit behind a desk and let everyone else do the hard labor. Sam thought about how to respond and remembered his decision to jump in to this pool with both feet. No time like the present.

"Well, I was dropping my boyfriend off at his house, and we got sidetracked, ya know?" He was proud of how calm he sounded, since his knotted stomach was threatening to blow chunks. In the ensuing silence, he sat down next to his mom, filled his plate, and studiously avoided making eye contact with anyone. He watched out of the corner of his eye as his granddad stood, shuffled over to the liquor cabinet, grabbed a couple of tumblers, the bottle of "good" scotch, and some ice. He returned to the table and poured himself and Sam's dad two fingers worth into each glass. His dad slammed the first one and motioned for a second. His granddad poured, but his mom reached over and downed it before his father had a chance to grab it. She choked a little from the unfamiliar burn, then reached over to touch Sam's arm gently.

"You're serious, aren't you, Son?" she asked, her voice soft and terribly gentle.

Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe? He raised his head to meet her gaze and whispered, "Yeah, Ma." She searched his eyes, and then let her gaze travel over his face looking for clues to this revelation that she, as his mother, should have noticed long before now. They both turned to look at his dad when he rattled his glass on the table to get a refill. Sam's granddad filled it quickly, and his father emptied it even quicker.

"Why in the hell are we just now hearing this? It's a bit of a goddamn shock after the way you've been going through the girls over the past couple of years. Hell, I've had to run a few of the cougars off ya when you were helping out in the garden center, and I'm sure a couple of them probably got to ya when I wasn't looking!" Sam felt his face turn bright red. He had no idea his dad knew anything about the older women he'd hooked up with through the business. His dad slammed his tumbler down making his mother jerk in her chair, and then he glared over at Sam. Sam pushed his plate aside, crossed his arms in front of himself on the table, and buried his face in them to escape his dad's stony expression.

"I kinda just found out myself, Pop," Sam said, his voice muffled as he spoke into his folded arms. Even without looking at everyone he could feel the eyes on him and the inexorable pressure slowly building. His shoulders tightened waiting for the imminent explosion. Sam knew his folks would eventually accept any decision he made about having a boyfriend or living an alternative lifestyle. He was only unsure of how long that would take or how difficult things would be between them in the mean time.

"You mean to tell me you had no clue you were... you were..." His dad's tirade trailed off, and Sam imagined he was making the same wild hand motions that Sam made earlier in the car with Jamie when words had escaped him. He and his dad had always had a lot in common.

Well maybe not so much.

"Calm down, Frank," his granddad said, soothingly. "The boy is no more gay than I am. He's just being lazy. It must be easier to get into boys' pants than girls' these days, I guess."

"Joseph, really!" his mom said, admonishing his granddad. Sam could hear her unwilling amusement at the old man's statement, however. Despite his granddad's actual words, Sam knew the old man wasn't really making light of his choice, but was instead trying to break the mounting tension. He succeeded. His dad sighed heavily, then gave a short laugh. Sam's shoulders relaxed, and he chanced a glance up from his folded arms to look at his dad, who returned his gaze calmly.

"So tell me about this boyfriend of yours."

Shit, shit, fuck, and damn.

Why did Casey have to be home? Jamie desperately wanted a minute or two to reflect happily and hornily on what happened in Sam's car. Maybe even rub one out in joyous celebration of finally getting a little action that involved another person. No, he had to deal with the evil witch as soon as he came in instead.

Jamie threw his book bag in his room then stomped into the kitchen. His sister was pouring them both a glass of tea. He rummaged through the refrigerator and pulled out the leftovers from the night before and slid them in the microwave. He watched the food rotate, wondering if he should again beg his sister to keep her enormous mouth shut, or just pray she would miraculously develop amnesia before his mom came home. When he felt the warm waves of sadistic glee just rolling off of her, he realized it was a lost cause. His stomach tightened miserably.

"So, Lil Bro, that was Sam Bricker, wasn't it?" Ping! The bell on the microwave went off as if to reward her for her supposed brilliance.

"Yeah." He was curt as he pulled the food out of the microwave and set the plate on the table.

"Tell me, exactly how is it that you, my dorky little brother, ended up getting a ride home from the school's big track star? I saw the car pull up, and I figured you were waiting for the rain to slack off when you didn't immediately come inside. I took a shower, dried my hair, but when I came out of the bathroom the rain had stopped, and there was still no sweet little Jamie making my dinner. Since that car smelled like the inside of a porn arcade, I

know

there was more than kissing going on to steam the windows up."

She smirked triumphantly, thrilled to finally have Jamie right where she wanted him. It drove her crazy to end up always getting her ass chewed out for her wild ways, but Jamie never got in trouble. He wasn't any better at hiding shit behind Mom's back; his life was just so damn dull that he, sadly, had nothing to hide. She looked so happy with her discovery that he expected her to turn cartwheels and shit daisies any minute now.

They stared each other down for a couple of minutes, and then Jamie attempted to redirect the conversation.

"How do you know what the inside of a porn arcade smells like, Skanky?"

"Yeah, Casey, I'd like to know the answer to that one myself, and Jamie, please don't call your sister Skanky." He and his sister both shrieked at their mom's sudden appearance. He was going to have a heart attack if he had to handle just one more surprise today. As he turned to his mother, Casey, the evil whore hag, rushed over to take her gym bag.

Brother and sister shouted at the same time, both desperate to be the first heard.

Jamie: Mom, I thought you were going to be late at the gym today! Casey: Mom, Jamie was making out in a car in the front yard like a little slut!

"The power went out at the gym cause of the storm, so we ran the generators long enough for members to get their shit and clear out." Jan Bayer was a personal trainer in a gym downtown. She was not short like Casey and Jamie, 5'3" and 5'5" respectively, but stood at 5'10". She was a force to be reckoned with due to the muscles she'd earned through her work at the gym, her status as a tenth degree black belt in Karate, and her no-nonsense attitude.

"Now why are the two of you squared off in the kitchen, ready to throw down, hmm?"

"Casey's been hanging out in adult bookstores," he said in a panic and glared at the hussy in question. Her face turned deep red, but then it smoothed out into an angelic mask. Jamie felt his heart drop into his feet. He just knew what was coming.

"Oh yeah, the other person in the car with Jamie... was a guy." Casey dropped her bomb in a sickeningly sweet voice.

"Bitch!" Jamie gripped the kitchen cabinet as his head spun, wondering if he was going to pass out. He planned to wait to tell his mom that he was gay in his own time; which would have been sometime just after...never.

"Jamie, dammit, don't call your sister a bitch!" His mom stepped forward and grabbed one of his shoulders.

"Faggot!" his sister yelled with a twisted smile on her face.

His mom turned oh, so slowly, back to face his sister. Jamie couldn't believe his mother was so angry over one word, but she was volcanically furious -- she really looked ready to blow up right there in the kitchen. He could see the veins in her neck throbbing as her heart pumped blood up to turn her face from red to purple, just like lava tubes in a volcano let the boiling magma rise up to the surface before it exploded out to destroy everything in sight. He watched in fascinated horror as his sister cowered back against the wall, and his mom slowly advanced on her.