“You’re getting better,” John hummed. He petted Brandon’s hair. It was almost 3 am, and the boy was showing is appreciation for John finding and retrieving his friend.
Brandon looked up at him with wide, wet eyes. He tried to smile. He tried to say thank you, and that’s he’s been trying, but John’s cock was stretching his mouth so wide already and his cock was so deep in his throat that all he could muster was a gurgled hum of delight.
The boy still couldn’t deepthroat John’s cock yet, but the man was sure that he’d get there eventually. Until then, he was happy with the inexperienced, yet cute and eager way he slobbered unintentionally over his rod, and the way sweet little Brandon ambitiously tried to fit the whole cock in his mouth until he turned red faced.
John gripped the sides of his head and held him in place. Brandon tensed up but didn’t try to pull away, even when he started to choke.
“That’s my special little whore,” John purred, his Cajun accent getting thicker. “Choking on my cock like you fucking own it.” His thumb stroked the Brandon’s temples, trailing a faint vein pulsing beneath the damp skin.
He forced Brandon to take even more of his girth. Brandon gurgled, and his red eyes started to roll back into his skull. Still, the boy didn’t fight struggle against the man. His hands just grabbed at John’s legs until his short cut nails dug into the skin.
John smiled. “You know why you’re not fighting, right? Because you know that you were made for taking my cock. I knew this the moment I saw you, before you even knew it. My perfect cock slut, you’re so good for my cock.”
Brandon gasped for breath when John pulled him off his cock.
“Open your mouth, baby,” John ordered him.
Brandon swallowed hard, but opened his mouth, tongue hanging out and chest heaving. John grabbed the boy’s hands and put them back on his cock. Then he placed his own over them and worked them up and down, up and down, jerking Brandon’s arms with force. Finally, with a low snarl, John came, growling Brandon’s name under his breath.
His warm semen spurted out of his flushed bulging cock right onto Brandon’s face and into his awaiting pink mouth. Brandon squeezed his eyes shut just in time as he felt the thick seed splash onto his face, spurt after spurt, matching John rapid heartbeats. His hands stayed tightly wrapped around the man’s cock with John’s own still clasped over them.
“Brandon, you’re so good,” John gasped. “So good for me, baby.”
Brandon’s face was covered in cum by the time John was through, with only small patches of brown skin showing here and there through the streams of semen. Some dripped from his chin and onto his chest and marked him there too.
The two males panted. Brandon tried to open one of his eyes, but the cum dripping from his eyelashes prevented him from doing so. John reached forward and wiped the boy’s eyelids clean with his thumb, stopping every so often to wipe it clean on the boy’s collarbone.
“Don’t close your mouth yet,” he instructed the boy, because the sight of his cum settling there in the young warm mouth was making him hard all over again.
When John had cleaned as much of his cum from Brandon’s eyes as he could, the boy looked up.
By now, his own little cock was hard between his thighs, but as much as he wanted to touch himself, the boy knew better. It was one of John’s rules after all: “No touching yourself until I say so.”
“I’m going to fill that belly of yours up all the way until you’re spewing with it, got it?”
Brandon nodded eagerly. The thought of being full of nothing but John’s warm cum made him even harder. He wondered how much more he could take though. How much was too much? How much until he gagged with it?
Liam woke to the strange feeling of something damp rubbing across his skin.
He groaned and looked up and saw Brandon at his side.
“What are you doing?” he weakly asked.
Brandon dipped the washcloth back into the plastic bucket of soapy water and resumed scrubbing Liam’s arms.
“I’m trying to clean you,” Brandon replied. “You’re all sticky and stuff, and you smell really bad.”
Liam furrowed his brow. “I never asked you to do that.”
Brandon shrugged. “You don’t actually have to ask me to do stuff for you, you know? How have you not figured this out by now?”
He dipped the washcloth back into the water and rung it out again. His stomach hurt with the among of semen having been pumped into his stomach, but he still needed to help his friend. It just didn’t feel right leaving the boy so filthy, despite all the hurtful things that Liam said to him; things that Brandon tried to push into the deepest corners of his mind as he continued his task.
Liam closed his eyes. The soft swooshing of water was calming. It reminded Liam of ocean waves right after they reached the shore and washed up around sandy feet. Elsewhere in the apartment, the dehumidifier hummed with a steady drag. The sound mixed with Brandon’s labored breathing as the lanky boy struggled to shift his friend’s body this way and that as he washed him.
It was all so… tranquil… Too tranquil. Liam’s mind started to wander to places he has lately been trying so hard to avoid.
“I wish I never existed.”
“Don’t say that.” He looked down at him with a stern gaze. “Don’t ever say that. I don’t know what I’d do without you! You’re my best friend, and you’re the greatest person I’ve ever met. You’re just in a bad place.”
Brandon resumed washing Liam, wiping dried fluids from the other boy’s chest. Liam shivered from the coolness there.
“Do you remember a few years ago when I came over to your house for our history project?”
Liam tried to sit up, but the pain in his abdomen and back made him grunt and fall back down. “Not really,” he answered.
“My mom had just married Al, you know, after popping out two of his kids already. It felt like right after they said ‘I do’ at the courthouse, that Al started beating on me. But anyway, I was over at your house, and I was trying so hard to pretend that everything was fine, but it really wasn’t. Al had beat me that morning for leaving the milk out and I had bruises all over my arms and shoulders. I was trying to pretend I wasn’t hurt, but you… you noticed. No one else, but you somehow realized that something wasn’t right.”
Brandon smiled fondly. “You convinced your parents to let me stay over, just so I wouldn’t have to go back home.”
The boy put down the washcloth. “You’re a good person, Liam. You’re just… I don’t know. I don’t know. John said that you just need to work through some stuff and you’ll be better. I don’t know exactly what that means, but if this friend can help you like John says they can then okay. I- I just don’t want to see my best friend like this ever again. I don’t want to lose you. Especially not to people who would pee on you like you’re- you’re- like you’re trash!”
Brandon was trembling now and crying and trying so hard not to wake John, but dammit his friend was lying in front of him abused and smelling of piss and God knows what else, and he still had dried semen in his hair and bruises on his legs and a dazed, buzzed look in his eyes. What kind of friend wouldn’t get pissed at that?
A tear ran down Liam’s cheek. He gripped Brandon’s hand, his own trembling. “Can… can you promise me something, Brandon? Can you promise not to let John get rid of me. I-” he sniffled as more tears threatened to spill over. His voice cracked. “I don’t want to be thrown away again.”
The darker skinned boy grasped his hand. “I promise! And if he does, well, I promise that I’ll go with you. Alright?”
Liam nodded and wept openly now. The trembling of his body became worse until he felt as if he would crumble because of it.
Brandon lied down next to him and pulled him close.
John woke Brandon. It was early morning, with the sun having just fully risen over the cityscape. Both boys were where they had fallen asleep in the early am, hours before, curled up together with a bucket of no longer soapy water nearby.
Brandon groaned as he woke up.
John smiled. “I’m going to work, baby.” His eyes flickered to Liam. “My friend will be here later on, once I get off. Alright?”
Brandon nodded, and that’s when he noticed the handcuffs in John’s hands.
The man saw the look on the boy’s face. “They’re for Liam; so he won’t run off again while I’m gone.”
Brandon rubbed his eyes as he sat up. “But he’s better now. He won’t run away.”
John sighed. “Yeah, well I don’t want to take that chance. I can’t afford to have him pull another stunt like last night. Especially not during the day. Don’t worry. It’ll only be for a couple of hours. Besides,” John held up the long chain. “With these he will still be able to walk around most of the apartment. Just not out the door.”
John nudged Brandon aside despite the boy’s protests. Liam stirred as the cool metal was hooked around his wrist.
He opened his blue eyes and looked up at John. “What are you doing?” he groaned.
“Making sure you don’t give me any more trouble. I’m going to work. You’re going to be handcuffed to the door in the hallway while I’m gone so you don’t get out. I may let you go once I get back, depending on how I’m feeling.”
John waved the key to the cuffs in front of the boys before putting it in his jacket pocket.
He stood up with a grunt, a knee popping, and gestured to Brandon. “Come here and give me a goodbye kiss, baby.”
This had become a regular thing in the household, John having required it of the boys from the moment they moved into his home. Of course, Brandon was the only one to follow through so far.
Brandon groaned when John shoved his tongue down his throat. He held the smaller body against him with a strong hold, and only released him once the need for air became too much. “I’ll be back before you know it,” John panted into the boy’s ear.
Brandon shivered, panting and flushed. “Y-yes, sir.”
Semen and alcohol weren’t a good combination. Liam discovered this the hard way. He spent the whole morning vomiting, his chain just long enough to reach the guest bathroom. Brandon, having a weak stomach and unable to stand the retching without doing so himself, sat in the hallway outside the room with his ears covered. Every so often he would shout his condolences through the door, and once he informed Liam that “this is why you shouldn’t drink”. To which Liam moaned, “Fuck you!” though it lost its viciousness nestled in between gagged whimpers.
By the time Liam finally came out of the bathroom, he was sickly pale with red rimmed eyes and sweating skin.
“I’m never drinking again,” he groaned into the pillow. He had made himself somewhat comfortable on the living room sofa.
Brandon set a can of ginger ale on the end table.
“Yeah, well, we’re thirteen. We’re not supposed to drink.”
Liam’s voice was muffled by the pillow stuffing as he groaned, “Shut up, you loser.”
Brandon paused, then puckered his lips and dictated, “That’s also why you shouldn’t drink pee and sperm. That and it’s just gross.”
The rest of the day went by rather peacefully. Brandon couldn’t remember the last time he had such a calm day. His house was usually loud, filled with either Al’s senseless cursing over… whatever, or his siblings’ screaming. And ever since he moved in with John tensions have been running high with an increasingly aggravated Liam stomping around. So, despite the anxious churning in his stomach over this so-called friend coming for Liam, Brandon was mildly content. He just hoped that this contentment would last.
Liam fell asleep sometime in the early evening. In his sleep he dreamed of being touched and fondled by some unidentifiable man. The man touched his cheeks and neck and groped and fondled his chest until he moaned from deep in his throat.
Liam arched and tossed beneath the man. He shivered when the man licked his collarbone, his breath warm against his skin. The man whispered his name so low that Liam could hardly hear him. He whispered against his sternum how beautiful he was, how lustrous his hair was, how soft his skin felt beneath his fingertips.
The man moved a hand down along his hips until it pressed into his thigh. He didn’t have to ask Liam to spread his legs for him because the boy wanted to so much. He wanted this man, who felt so familiar to him somehow, to touch him, to make him cry in pleasure, to make him feel all the love that the boy felt radiating from every caress.
The man kissed the inside of his thighs, so close to his groin that it was torture.
“Please…” Liam whimpered.
The man smiled, whispered something that was unknown to the boy, and leaned down to-
“Liam,” Brandon called out. He shook the blond, but only received an annoyed grunt. “Liam, wake up.”
Brandon shook the boy again, this time rougher, until Liam opened his eyes to glare up at him.
“What?” he sneered.
Brandon pulled on Liam’s sleeve. “Get up. You gotta eat.”
Liam pulled away from him. “I’m not hungry.”
“Yes, you are. You haven’t eaten all day. Come on, get up!”
Liam groaned long and loud and pushed Brandon away from him. “I was having a good dream, not go away! Don’t make me curse you out.”
Brandon folded his arms, undeterred by the threat. “Get up! You have to come and eat.”
When Liam didn’t try to move, the dark-skinned boy grabbed him by the arm and tried to force him off the sofa. Liam pulled away from him, and, in a fluid motion, attempted to hit the boy. Brandon ducked out of the way, causing him to miss and topple to the side.
Liam was able to catch himself, but the room swam regardless almost making him lose his balance and fall completely.
Brandon attempted to catch him. “See? You’re already getting sick. Now, come on and let’s go into the kitchen.”
Dizzy, Liam was unable to put up much of a fight and was practically dragged to the glass dining room table.
Brandon had a turkey sandwich waiting for him. Despite the nauseous feeling wreaking havoc on his stomach, Liam dug in almost instantly. He turned out to be hungrier than he realized, because from the moment he swallowed his first bit, the boy found that he couldn’t stop eating. He scoffed the sandwich down, nearly choking in the process.
Brandon gleamed at him triumphantly. “Told ya so,” he piped up with an all-knowing grin. “Gosh, why do you have to be so stupid, Liam? You know you have low blood pressure and have to eat often.”
Liam choked down a chunk of his meal. “Shut up. I wasn’t in the mood to eat.”
Brandon rolled his eyes. “That’s probably because you had a hangover.”
“Shut up. At least I don’t act like an old mom.”
“I can’t help it! Somebody had to in my house, and it definitely wasn’t going to be my actual mom. Besides, I wouldn’t have to act like a mom if you weren’t such a baby.”
Liam glared at him. “Call me that one more time, and I’ll suffocate you with this dill pickle.”
Brandon smiled. “Your dill pickle doesn’t scare me! Face it; you’re my baby. Might as well be. I’m way more mature than you anyway.”
Liam was taken aback. “You are not!”
“Are to! You don’t even know how to do laundry!”
“Baby, I’m home!”
Brandon was sitting on Liam’s back and jumped up to race to the front door. He leapt up into John’s waiting arms and gave the man a quick welcoming peck.
“Welcome home,” Brandon smiled.
John bent over and kissed Brandon again, hard and starving, a man longer for another taste of that forbidden fruit. Shivers overtook the boy’s slender boy. He sighed with a soft pleasurable cry anchoring on the end. Skinny fingers latched onto John’s gray suit jacket.
“What were you two doing just now?” John’s lips tickled Brandon’s as he spoke. He cast a look in Liam’s direction. The disheveled blond boy was still on the floor.
“We were fighting!” Brandon beamed.
John was confused so the boy clarified. “We got into an argument about who was more mature, and it ended up turning into an argument about who was stronger and…”
“You two started fighting?”
“It wasn’t serious, I swear!”
John chuckled. “Who won?”
Brandon chuckled. “I did.”
“I was at a disadvantage!” Liam argued. “This stupid chain held me back! It- it was hard to maneuver with it.”
“Yeah, right!” Brandon called back. “You’re just upset that I can actually beat you if I wanted to.” He placed his hands on his hips. “I used to live with my cousins, who were all older than me and liked to fight. I just don’t fight you or hit you back when you hit me because I don’t want to hurt you.”
“So, what? You’ve been holding back all these years?”
Brandon shrugged. “Maybe.”
Liam sneered. “That’s bullshit! There’s no way!”
Shrugging off his suit jacket John said, “It doesn’t really matter, does it? I’m not going to allow rough housing anyway. It leads to bruises, and the only time I liked to see bruises,” John playfully tapped Brandon’s chin. “Is when I cause them. Isn’t that right, baby?”
Brandon blushed, suddenly and inexplicably feeling embarrassed. “Yes, sir.”
They gaze into each other’s eyes, cunning green peering into trusting brown, until Brandon felt himself tumbling into desire.
Liam glowered between them. He made show of clearing his throat and did so again louder when they failed to notice him.
John forced himself to look away from Brandon. “My friend will be here in about an hour. She’ll want to talk to both of you,” he glanced between the boys. “So be prepared.”
“Liam won’t be taken away some place?” Brandon asked, an ounce of uneasiness about the situation starting to vanish.
“Maybe. Maybe not,” John answered. “It all depends on what she thinks will be best. I won’t know much of what she intends to do with Liam until she evaluates him. Which is why she will be coming here today.”
John’s friend and Liam’s new trainer was a petite dark-skinned woman with a shaved head and a narrow face.
“Hello, John.” Her voice was raspy and had this accent that Liam instantly recognized. Back when he was really little, he had a kind-hearted babysitter who had immigrated from the Caribbean. She had a Jamaican accent that the boy had adored to hear, and baked him cookies almost every Wednesday after school. It was this same inflection that this woman spoke with, though Liam suspected that the accent would become ruined for him soon enough.
John stepped aside and let the woman into the apartment. “Hey, Lisette. Long time, no see.”
Lisette scoffed as she entered. “That’s because you’ve been busy fuckin’ the young!”
John closed the door and shrugged. “What can I say? They’re my Achilles' heel.”
“Yeah, and we see how that has gone! Not too well if you have to call me here.” Lisette removed her jacket and handed it to John.
“Where are the young boys?”
John nodded towards the living room. Lisette didn’t wait to be told twice and strutted in that direction. John followed close behind, his footfalls drowned out with the clacking of Lisette’s heals.
Liam and Brandon were sitting together on the sofa and were watching TV. They looked over as Lisette and John entered.
“Boys,” John started and motioned to the woman. “Meet Lisette, she specializes in taming unruly sex slaves and partners. She will be helping me straighten out Liam.”
Brandon stood up to greet the woman.
Lisette’s violet lips turned up in a delighted smile. “Good manners. That’s a good sign.” She looked Brandon up and down. “With this attitude, I’m assuming that you aren’t the reason I’m here.”
Brandon hesitated, but shook his head. He looked back at Liam who looked at them with fain annoyance from the corner of his eye.
Lisette walked pass Brandon to Liam.
“It’s just as I described it over the phone,” John informed her. “He’s rude and reckless and let’s his envy get that best of him.”
Lisette, looking over the disgruntled Liam, shrugged. She turned to face John. “So, why not force him to do as you please? It’s not like you couldn’t.”
John cleared his throat and nodded to Brandon. Lisette followed his gaze.
She pointed between the two boys. “They’re dependent on each other?”
John nodded. “Yeah, they were together when I met them. From what I can tell, they’ve known each other for a while. They even ran away from home together.”
Liam griped, “We’re right here! How about not talking about us like we can’t fucking understand you.”
Lisette and John shared a look.
“You’re right; I could make him do what I wanted, but if I forced myself on him, then Brandon would resent me,” John put his hand on Brandon’s shoulder. “And I like this one too much to let that happen.”
He lovingly stroked Brandon’s cheek with his finger.
Lisette sighed and crossed her arms. “I see…” She tapped her chin, her manicured red nails clicking against the metal ball piercing under her lower lip.
“And I’m assuming that he won’t do as another does?” She questioned with a glance at Brandon.
John shook his head. “They’ve actually been at each other’s throat until… today, I guess. Well, Liam’s been at Brandon’s.”
Lisette took a moment to think over her options. As she did she tapped the back of her heal against the hardwood floor.
“Are you looking for me to reel him in, or do you also want me to improve him social skills?”
“His skills are fine. It’s only his attitude that’s a problem.”
Lisette shifted the weight from one foot to the other. “Let’s try this, hm? You said both boys had previous relationship? That’s not good. We will separate them.”
Brandon’s heart jerked in his chest. “W-What? Wait, huh!”
“It will be for the best,” Lisette claimed. “Boy will sleep apart. They will be trained to please you separately, and, for now, they will be played with separately.”
Brandon was still confused though. Frightened eyes flickered to Liam then up at John. “But-”
John squeezed Brandon’s shoulders reassuringly.
“For how long?”
“They will not be separated completely; not forever. They can be around other boy, but for now let’s keep contact to a minimum. They can earn more contact later.”
John sighed and scratched his low trimmed beard. “That sounds like a hell of a lot of work, Lis.”
Lisette scoffed. “For you maybe! Your part is easy. I have to be the one to do the actual breaking and training. You just make sure they sleep a part. When you have sex, you have sex with one boy a part from the other.”
“I don’t have sex with them together anyway.”
“When do you have sex with either boy?”
“I have sex with Brandon almost every day, whether it’s anally or orally. I haven't touched Liam in a week thou- Ow!”
Lisette hit John again. “That’s why the boy run off in the first place, ya fool! How you pick up sex boy, but no have sex with him? You are a fool!”
John held up his arm when the woman tried to strike you again. “Stop it, already!”
“You have sex with this boy or give him up! It makes no sense- none- for you to take him from his home, just to have him sit around with jealousy brewin’ in him heart.”
John sighed. “Fine, I will. I will.”
Lisette straightened her blouse. “Now then, I will take measurements and get chastity belt for him. Maybe both.”
“Chastity belt!” Liam cried. “I’m not wearing that. Fuck off!”
Lisette huffed. “That’s to train you to know who are allowed to have sex with and to keep you from giving your body away without your master’s permission.”
“Master? Him? Fuck this guy! I-”
Liam was cut off with a firm slap.
“You will not talk about your master that way! Regardless of his treatment of you, you are him property. You will not disobey!”
Liam growled. “Yeah? Well what if I don’t want to be his fucking property anymore? Huh?”
John stepped forward. “Then you can get out. I’m not going to keep a brat that doesn’t even want to be here.”
Liam and John glared at one another, tension getting thicker between the two by the fleeting seconds.
Lisette sighed. “I have seen enough. I will go for now. Preparations must be made for the breaking.”
She took back her jacket and started towards the front door. “I will call you later, John. In the mean time,” She pointed to Liam, "keep this one under lock and chain."
Brandon screamed. John’s hot hard cock was driving up into him again and again, and there was nothing he could do but take it and scream and claw at the restraints that kept his arms stretched above his head.
The leather restraints around his thin ankles kept his legs spread wide eagle in a perfect split that the boy previously hadn’t known he could achieve. Wide open and helpless, that’s how John liked his boys.
The man’s deep rapid thrusts stuttered as he pulled too far back. His cock threatened to slip out, but then John jerked his hips and the tip of his cock slammed into Brandon’s prostate. Brandon shrieked.
“Hush!” John growled. “You know you like this!”
He gripped Brandon’s hair. The man seemed so aggressive tonight, though Brandon knew that it wasn't due to him, but rather because of Liam's attitude lately.
Brandon heaved. “Yes, sir, I like this! M-my pussy is only for your cock.”
John pulled on his hair making him whimper. “No! Your needy pussy is for whatever I say it’s for. Now repeat that!”
“My pussy is for whatever you say it’s for!”
“Again!” John halted his thrusting.
“My pussy is only for whatever you say it’s for, s-sir!”
John slammed back into him hard, jerking Brandon’s body up into the headboard.
“That’s right, baby. God, I’m going to make this cunt to take so many things so many ways.” John swallowed back his saliva hard. “While your bitch friend is busy learning his place with Lisette, I’m going to make sure that you finish learning yours. I’m gonna train this cunt until it’s perfect. I’m gonna train you until you’re just a wanting slut who only thinks about how he’s gonna please his master; me.”
John grabbed Brandon’s cock in his fist. “First lesson; this cocklet of yours is worthless. From now, on you’re gonna be learning to come just from your pussy, got it?” Brandon gave a jerking nod as he teared up. “The only time you get any stimulation is when I say you can get it. Until then it’s just for pissing and looking pretty. Do you understand?”
Brandon nodded again. “Yes, sir. Please train my pussy to your liking.”
John grinned something wicked. “That’s my baby.” And he started jackhammering into Brandon’s squelching wet pussy, shaking the boy’s tiny body.
Despite all his tears and whimpering, Brandon loved it, loved John using his body, loved his cock shaping his pussy as he fucked his insides like the fuck toy that he wanted to become for the man. John’s cock, driving again and again into his core, seeping his semen into his insides, that’s what he craved so much. In his lustful haze, the boy didn’t care how it came about. He didn’t care what John did with him, as long as he was drilling him into him like he was in that moment.
It was later that night, after John had fallen asleep, when Liam saw Brandon. He came limping into the kitchen for some water. The darker-skinned boy was nude with “love marks” dotting his skin and a dry trail of semen going from his loosened hole and down his thigh.
Liam looked up from his makeshift bed on the sofa. His handcuffs clanked with each movement.
“Things got pretty intense earlier, huh?” Brandon muttered sheepishly.
Liam shifted on the sofa. “If that’s what you wanna call it.”
Brandon hesitated to respond. He stared down at the glass of water in his hands. “Did you mean what you said earlier? About not wanting to stay here anymore?”
Liam sighed and brushed his bangs from his forehead. “Maybe? I mean, I ran away from home because I wasn’t wanted there. What’s the point of staying here if it’s going to be the same thing?”
Brandon became distressed. “But… But that’s not true! You are wanted here. I want you here. I’ve- I’ve always wanted you! I want to stay with you forever. That’s why I was so happy when you said you wanted to come with me and John, because I couldn’t actually imagine leaving you behind; no matter what.”
He fumbled with the cup. “I don’t want to be away from you,” he whimpered. “You- You’re my best friend! We’ve been through so much together, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Yeah? Well, you have John.”
“I don’t want John!” Brandon screamed.
He stopped, eyes wide.
“I- I like John,” Brandon quickly corrected himself. “I like him so much. He makes me feel so good and not even in a perverted way. He doesn’t make me feel like everyone else in my life has; like I’m stupid and ugly and worthless. He actually cares about me and if I’m hurt or not. He cares about me more than my own mom! And I know that he just wants me for sex, and that one day I’ll get too old for him, but… but I just like being treated special for once, even if it’s only for a little while.”
Brandon took in a shaking breath. “But I don’t want to lose you, Liam. I just don’t, because no matter what you think, I still care about you. Why else would I follow you around all the time? Why else would I put up with all your shit and your name calling and go along with you on your stupid schemes? It’s because I like you, and I don’t want you to be alone, and I don’t want me to be alone, because honestly, I feel so alone when you’re not with me.” He swallowed back the growing lump in his throat. “And you probably think everything that I’m saying is stupid, but I don’t care anymore! It’s the truth!”
Liam was bewildered. Off somewhere against a wall, the dehumidifier beeped signaling that it was full.
“Brandon,” Liam whispered as if fearing that he would suddenly wake John if he spoke an octave louder. “If I leave here, will you follow me?”
Brandon was shocked.
It took him a minute to nod albeit slowly, feeling the weight of this decision bearing down on his naked shoulders. What if he ran away and never saw John again? What if he left and ended up somewhere or in the custody of someone much worse?
Liam licked his chapped lips. He looked back over his shoulder and down the hall, down which the bedroom was located.
“Do you know where the key for these handcuffs is?”
“Can you get it for me?” Liam asked.
Brandon didn’t answer.
“Brandon,” Liam chided, “Can you get the key?”