Secrets 10

(Part 1 from 2. Fiction.)

Close your eyes and listen to me closely...


Chapter 10: Innocence

The bed was warm, but Patrick’s arms around me felt warmer, and safer. At least it felt like Patrick’s arms. I could recognize his scent, so I believed it was Patrick. We were alone in my bedroom, surrounded on all sides by darkness. It had to be hours past midnight, and yet I didn’t feel sleepy at all. I could feel Patrick’s breath on the back of my neck. “You still awake?” he whispered. 

“Yeah...” I whispered.

Patrick kissed the back of my head gently. “Nightmares?”

“I’m not sure...maybe.” 

“Don’t worry, I’m right here.” Patrick closed his muscular arms around me tighter. “You don’t have to be afraid of anything.”

“You’re not mad at me?” 

“Why would I be mad at you?”

It was too dark, and I wished there was some light so that I can see him and know that it was him for real, and not just my imagination again. Not just a bad dream that wouldn’t go away. “Because of what I did.”

Patrick slid his foot up my left calf. “What did you do, Sean?”

“You already know, Patrick. You’re the one that made me remember. You told me what I did...”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. I’m not mad with you about anything. You haven’t done anything.”

I shifted around in the bed, so that I was facing Patrick. For once, I didn’t feel nervous, or afraid, or endangered...for once I felt like I could breathe without having to worry about something wrong happening. My chest was pressed against Patrick’s lightly sweaty, muscular chest. He touched my face, very gently, and kissed me, very slow, and very passionately. Patrick’s dick swelled and pressed along my inner thigh. His hand traveled down my back, over my ass. He slipped a finger into my crack and softly made circles with his finger around the hole. “You know I love you, right, Sean?”

“Yeah, I know.” I kissed him again, harder and deeper. Our tongues interlocked and moved like flickering flames in each other’s mouths. “I love you too.”

“Do you?” Patrick asked, a hint of genuine doubt in his voice. “Sometimes I’m not really sure how you feel about me.”

“I’ve always been in love with you,” I said. I kissed him again. Patrick inserted his finger into my asshole. My toes curled and my dick twitched. 

“But do you trust me?” He removed his finger and then drove it in again, very quickly. I bit my bottom lip, and closed my eyes. I completely yielded my body to Patrick. Again he snatched his finger out. “Answer me, Sean. Do you trust me?” This time he stuck two fingers into my ass and I cried out loud. I nodded my head.

“Yeah....”

“Yeah, what?” Patrick asked.

“I trust you.”

Patrick worked his fingers in and out of my asshole very quickly and roughly. “I don’t believe you.” He rammed his fingers into my ass as far as they would go, which was pretty far, considering he had very long fingers. With my ass clenched, my heartbeat out of control, my body covered in sweat, and my eyes squeezed really tight, I answered. “Yes, I do trust you.”

In one easy motion, with his fingers still in my ass, Patrick flipped me over on my stomach and mounted me like a horse. He kissed my shoulder blade and then moved up to my ear and whispered, “I still don’t believe you, Sean.” He snatched his fingers out of my ass and again I moaned out loud. Patrick took my arms, pulled them behind my back and held on to them, so that I couldn’t move. I didn’t bother to struggle. Patrick was way too strong for me, and I didn’t want to resist him anyway..”Don’t tell me what you think I wanna hear, Sean. Tell me the truth. I won’t be upset.”

“Patrick, I am telling you the truth...”

I felt Patrick’s large cock guiding its way into my asscrack, and my heart was nearly exploding with anticipation about what was going to happen next. He didn’t stick it in right away; Patrick toyed with me; sliding his dick up and down between my ass, like slipping a hot dog in and out of the bun. He groaned in my ear while still holding on to my arm so that I couldn’t move. 
I was breathing rapidly and trying to relax, but I couldn’t.

“Why are you so nervous?” Patrick asked.

“I’m not...”

I felt the tip of Patrick’s cock head pressing up against my hole. “This is what you want, isn’t it? You want me to fuck you, right?”

“Yeah...”

“Tell me that you want me to fuck you,” Patrick said. He sounded different. Not in a major way, but very subtle. “Go ahead. I wanna hear you say.”

“.....Patrick, I want you to fuck me...”

“Say it again.”

“I want you to...”

Suddenly, I felt like I had stepped outside of myself. Even in the darkness, I could see myself, along with Patrick, naked in the bed, rolling in the covers, moaning, and whispering dirty things to each other. I was standing...well, not even standing, but almost floating above the ground. I felt like me, but at the same time I felt different, and a lot more aware of things around me. I saw us, on the bed fucking, Patrick on top of me, his body, smooth and strong, statuesque and masculine. I was below him, not as strong. It was a weird feeling to see myself outside of a reflection in a mirror. I felt like I was in a dream but at the same time, it felt really real. What was happening to me didn’t make sense, yet I didn’t question it. 

I heard voices coming from outside my bedroom door. One sounded female and the other sounded a lot like my own voice. I watched Patrick and I fuck for another few minutes. I watched Patrick ram his cock into my ass over and over again, and I saw me squeezing my eyes shut and groaning really loudly...

* * *

Rose White was standing there, crimson red dress, one high-heeled foot pressed firmly against the wall, leaning back comfortably, a gun in her hand and a wicked grin on her face. 

“What are you doing in my house?” I demanded. I still had Danny pinned down on the ground with my foot. He didn’t bother to struggle. I was burning with a rage I had never felt before, and a confusion that was washing over me harder than a tidal wave. 

She held that shiny, metal black gun in her smooth, delicate-looking hand expertly and yet almost carelessly, as it were a toy made specifically for her, and she had this peculiar smile on her face, exquisite, but deadly; provocative, but also very repulsive. “We were waiting for you to come back.” I hated that smile and I wanted to take that gun from her and shoot her with it. I’d never felt such animosity toward a person like I did with her at that moment. “Get off of him,” she said, moments later, referring to Danny, who was still trapped under my foot. Reluctantly, I let go of Danny, and he rose to his feet, slowly.

“What are you doing here?” I asked Danny. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Why not, Sean? Danny replied, flashing a malicious grin that made me want to knock all of his teeth out. “I’d thought you would be a lot happier to know that your friend is alive and well.” He put a lot of emphasis on the word ‘alive’.

“I saw you shoot yourself in the head,” I told him. “I remember. It was just the other night. How are you still here?”

“It’s not as easy as it seems,” Danny said. His eyes were green again. When I had him pinned down on the ground, they were brown.

“So both of you were in this together?” I asked Rose. The hallway was too narrow to hold all three of us. Rose was standing in front of me, blocking my way of going back downstairs, where a fire was burning in the fireplace, and Danny was behind me, blocking my way of getting to my bedroom. It would’ve probably been a lot easier to get past Danny than it would’ve been to get past Rose, considering that she wielded a gun in her hand. “You two were the ones sending me those notes, trying to keep me away from Patrick.”

“Maybe,” Rose responded coyly. 

“You had me thinking that it was him trying to kill me.”

Rose held the gun up and examined it as if it were the world’s most precious diamond. “Who says he isn’t trying to kill you?”

* * *

I tried to force myself not to be obsessed with Patrick; he was just supposed to be my friend. Our friendship has lasted for nearly ten years, since we were both eight, and as the days and years passed I’ve watched as Patrick has grown and evolved. I realized how much I wanted to be more than just his friend. Not only is Patrick impossibly beautiful: six-four, jet black hair, stunning light brown-colored eyes, and an amazingly muscular, well-endowed body (I’ve seen him naked once and that wonderful image has remained in my memory in vivid detail since), but he had like a cool personality--laid back, honest, funny. He had basically all the things I would want in a boyfriend...
* * *

Patrick’s arms were wrapped tightly around my chest...at least they felt like Patrick’s arms. It smelled like Patrick too. In the complete darkness of my bedroom I wasn’t completely sure. But I really had a strong feeling that it was Patrick. I felt his forehead touch my back.


“Are you still awake?” he asked.

“Yeah. I can’t go to sleep.”

“Me either,” Patrick responded. “I keep having bad dreams.” I could feel his dick hardening, poking against my naked ass. He had already fucked me less than two hours before. My asshole was still a bit wet and sore. 

“What kind of bad dreams?” I asked.

Patrick circled my nipple with his finger. He kissed the back of my neck tenderly. “About you.”

“What happened in the dream?”

“I don’t wanna tell you,” Patrick said.

“I want to know.”

“But I don’t want you to know,” Patrick said, almost sternly. “Some things are better not known.”

Patrick moved his hand down from my nipples, to my stomach, guiding his way down to my dick, which was growing with anticipation. “Do you love me, Patrick?” I asked. I don’t know why I asked that, or where the question came from. 

“You should already know the answer to that question, Sean,” Patrick answered, without really answering. “I shouldn’t have to tell you.”

“I just want to hear you say it...if you do love me.”

“Will it really make you feel all that much better?”

“Yes, it will.”

Patrick took hold of my dick and squeezed it until it was rock hard. He started to jack me off, stroking me up and down, going softly and slowly at first, and then increasing his speed and rhythm. “Do you want me to be honest with you, Sean? Or do you just want me to tell you what you want to hear?” Patrick started to rub my balls. I mashed my ass up against his crotch and closed my eyes.

“No, I want you to be honest with me, Patrick...”

“Are you sure about that, Sean?” Patrick reached below my nut sack, and started to lightly tickle the area between my balls and my asshole with his middle finger.

“Yes, I do....”

Patrick moved his finger upward, heading straight toward my asshole. With his free hand, Patrick spread my ass apart and placed his dick inside my crack, just allowing it to rest there, right in between my ass. He leaned in close to me, his moist mouth grazing my ear, and he whispered, “This is how I really feel about you--”

* * *

“Burnin’ your memories won’t make them go away,” Kevin said.

I was standing in front of the fireplace, all my journals in my hands, shredding page after page and throwing them in the fire, watching them blacken and turn quickly into ashes. Kevin watched me, from the couch, smoking a cigarette and taunting me with his hidden knowledge. “Don’t talk to me,” I said. “You’re not really here anyway.”

“Of course I’m here,” Kevin responded, laughing. “I’m always here, Sean. You can stand there all night and burn all those pages, but you’ll still remember. It won’t change what happened. It won’t change what you did.”

“Patrick’s going to come over and help me,” I answered. “He’s going to help me get rid of it.”

“You really have a lot of faith in him, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. I’m in love with him.”

“But do you think he feels the same way about you?”

“I trust him,” I said.

Kevin laughed. “Do you know how stupid you are, Sean?” 

I ripped out over twenty pages from the spine of the notebook in one pull and tossed them in the fire. “Go away.”

“He only sticks around because of me,” Kevin said. “He sees me in you. That’s the only reason why he hasn’t dropped you yet, Sean. Patrick’s in love with me, not you.”

“Patrick does love me.” The heat emanating from the fire blasted on my skin. Sweat poured down my forehead. I continued to rip out page after page after page of my secrets and destroy them. I felt angry, I felt weak, I felt strong, I felt helpless, I felt powerful...I didn’t know how I felt. In a burst out rage, I ripped the entire notebook in half and hurled it into the fire, causing the flames to shoot upward suddenly, and violently. 

“Do you feel better now?” Kevin asked. I could hear the ridicule in his voice, and even though my back was turned to him, I could still see that smirk on his face. I wanted to bash his head in, but I couldn’t.

“You’re not even really here,” I said. I kept repeating that over and over, each time softer and softer, until I was only saying it in my head.

“What are you gonna do about all that blood?” Kevin questioned. “You’re gonna have to burn that too, you know...”

I forgot all about the shirt. I looked down at my shirt, covered with large blotches of blood, some my own blood, some not. I had completely forgot about it....I took off the shirt and balled it up. That’s when I saw the tattoos. 

They hadn’t been there before. I don’t know where they came from or how they got there, but they were there. There was a large tattoo of a snake going in a diagonal spiral, starting from my waist and moving upward along my chest, around to my back. Thinking it was just an illusion, I tried rubbing it off, thinking it would just vanish away, but it didn’t. It remained. “What the fuck is this?” I asked, looking at Kevin, who also had his shirt off. And he had the same tattoo on his chest, the same size, the same shape, the same position, the same inking, the same everything. They were exactly identical. 

“We got a lot in common, you know?” Kevin said. “Yeah, me and you are more alike than you think, Sean. I know you more than you know you.”

I was determined to get the tattoo off of me. I scratched at my skin, vigorously, over and over until I started to bleed, and I had my own skin underneath my fingernails, and even then I continued to scratch.

“You really are insane, aren’t you boy?” Kevin asked. He burst out in loud laughter/ The fire roared, uncontrollably and ominously.

“Patrick is going to be here soon,” I said. “He’ll fix everything. He’s going to help me. He’s going to know what to do.”

Kevin stopped laughing momentarily to say, “Well, you’d better hope so, Sean. Otherwise, you’re pretty fucked.”

* * *
I had my right hand squeezed tightly around her throat, and the loaded gun in my left hand. I was seething with rage, and Rose was staring at me nonchalantly. “You stupid fucking bitch. I should kill you right now.”

Even though I was choking her, Rose showed no signs of fear, or struggle. She just stared at me, with those dark, hypnotizing eyes of hers, challenging me, teasing me. I raised the gun to her temple and cocked back the hammer. She still wasn’t afraid. And even if Rose was afraid, she was doing a hell of a good job of hiding it. “You made me do that to him. You made me kill him. I should fucking kill you right now.”

I don’t know why I did it, but I let her go. Rose inhaled deeply, and then laughed, loudly, proudly--victoriously. 

“His fucking brains are all over my bathroom floor and you made me do it!” I screamed. I pointed the gun at her. I was seeing red.

She held her throat. “You couldn’t do it,” she said.

“You don’t know what the fuck I can do.”

Rose laughed again. “You’re just a scared little boy. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t even have known how to use that thing.”

I felt tears burning at the corners of my eyes. I didn’t want to cry in front of her, but I knew it would be inevitable. “You fucking made me kill him...”

“You wanted him dead anyway,” Rose said viciously. “I just gave you what you wanted.”

“That’s not what I wanted. I didn’t want him dead. You fucked me up. I should fucking...” I still had the gun aimed at her, directly at her face. 

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