Friday, June 29, 2012

Of Mice and Men Ch.01


So he's my new story, it's a spin off of Wings of Gray/Things Change. If you haven't read the stories before, I suppose you could still read this one, but you might want to go back and freshen up on your Alex/Mike Mike/Anthony knowledge.

Also, another fun announcement, introducing my new sexy bitch of an editor: Naughtycouture! Because I'm lazy, I'll just call her Naughty ;) She's by far the best editor I've had so far (If you're reading this GBC, stop being MIA >:O) She's crazy fast, and helpful, plus she entertains me and that's most important as we all know. So everyone give a big thanks to her for making me suck less :D

P.S. I've been meaning to say this but I keep forgetting. I've heard your complaints that the follow by email thingy isn't working, and after poking around I have absolutly no solution, but I do know that others are having this problem and we're trying to find out more about it, but it's not going well. I'm trying to come up with a way to help those who use the follow by email, but I can't think of anything without having some giant email list I gotta send an email to whenever I post. I'll keep you all posted.


"Get out!" Chris shouted.

"Chris, please. Just give me another chance," Ethan begged.

"No. Get out. I don't want you here anymore. I've tried to help you, but you've made it obvious you can't be changed. Mike was right about you,” Chris shook his head, in tears.

Ethan had tried his best to accept Anthony, and his differences, but he couldn't help his hatred for the infected. He didn't know where it came from, but it was there. Mike glared at him as Anthony held onto his side.

They had been having dinner when Mike had brought up Alex. For some reason it sparked an old hatred for the mutants. He had gotten emotional and Anthony tried to comfort him. Ethan glared at the cat’s paw on Mike’s shoulder. His fingers were tipped with claws, and his tail swished back and forth gently. Ethan found himself watching Anthony’s tail a lot. It just made him so angry. After that night, almost a month ago, he found himself falling back into his old way of thinking. He knew it would hurt Chris if he ever found out what Ethan was thinking, so he tried to hide it, tried to keep it bottled up. But that only made it worse. Now, a month later, things had reached their boiling point.

He didn’t know what set him off. Why it was tonight, and not any other night they had spent together. Because they were all such close friends, Ethan found himself alone with Anthony a lot. Sometimes Chris would be in the bathroom, and Mike would be out getting some beer, or something. He and Anthony would be alone. It was always kind of awkward, but they worked through it. But tonight had been different. Anthony was in a happy mood and was trying to spark up a conversation between him and Ethan, but Ethan didn’t feel much like talking.

“So how are things with Chris. I have to admit, you guys are really cute together,” Anthony smiled.

“Thanks,” Ethan mumbled.

“His birthday is coming up, right? Have any plans? Mike and I were thinking of throwing a surprise party for him,” Anthony said.

“I hadn’t thought about it yet,” Ethan said, not really participating in the one sided conversation. Anthony stared at him a moment, before trying again.

“Maybe we could go to a theme park or something. Six flags or Disneyland,” Anthony smiled.

“That could be fun,” Ethan said, not really interested.

“Ethan... is something wrong? I know we’re not exactly close, but you seem a little off lately,” Anthony said.

“No nothing is wrong,” Ethan shook his head, lying.

“Are you sure? I just think you seem kind of-” Anthony was silenced when Ethan hit him, sending him flying onto his back.

“You don’t know me you fucking infected piece of shit!” Ethan shouted suddenly. He didn’t know where the blind fury had come from, but it completely filled his mind. He couldn’t think about anything other than the creature that was so worthless in front of him. Anthony blocked his face as Ethan crawled on top of him, drawing his fist back. He punched him again, but before he could swing a third time, he was pulled off a bloody Anthony.

“What the fuck!?” Mike shouted. He had Ethan by the waist and threw him onto Mike’s bed. Chris knelt by Anthony, who had crawled over to the opposite wall. He held his nose, which gushed blood and Chris tried to stop the bleeding with a towel he had grabbed from the floor.

“Ethan, what the hell are you doing?!” Chris shouted, looking up from Anthony for only a second. Ethan’s vision was beginning to clear, and it was like a red haze had been lifted from his mind. It took him a moment to realize what he had done.

“What the fuck happened?!” Mike shouted, resisting the urge to help Anthony. He was more concerned with keeping Ethan far away from his beloved.

“I- I don’t know we were talking... ow!” Anthony hissed, as Chris pressed on his nose.

“Mike, I think it’s broken,” Chris said. Anthony was crying softly, in the arms of his friend.

“I’m going to kill you, you piece of shit,” Mike swore, before moving to Anthony’s side. He rubbed his shoulders soothingly, before trying to help Anthony up.

“Chris...” Ethan stood from where he had been thrown on the bed.

“Get out!” Chris shouted.

"Chris, please. Just give me another chance," Ethan begged.

"No. Get out. I don't want you here anymore. I've tried to help you, but you've made it obvious you can't be changed. Mike was right about you,” Chris shook his head, in tears. Mike glared at Ethan as they helped Anthony out of the dorms. Mike grabbed his keys.

“Come on, we need to get him to the E.R,” Mike said. Chris nodded, and they left. Ethan was left alone. He cursed and kicked the leg of the bed. His leaned against the wall and sighed. He had ruined it. He loved Chris, he really did. He just couldn’t take the panther anymore. The cat had worn on his last nerve.

Ethan stormed through the campus, angry as ever. Chris wouldn’t answer his calls or texts, neither would Mike. It had been a few hours and Ethan didn’t know what he would do. He couldn’t go home, he didn’t want to face Chris. Not after what he had done.

‘He’s kicked me out of my own Goddamn home!’ Ethan thought to himself. ‘He’ll defend that stupid fuck of a cat until the end. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve Chris’s love!’ his mind screamed. His hands were shoved in his pocket and he frowned when his fingers hit something cold. He wrapped his hand around it and brought it out into the street light. It was his small pocket knife, shining in the light. The red haze began to return to his vision, cutting off any sense of reason or logical thought. He just needed to make somebody hurt.

The boy had small horns on top of his head, curved back and around his ears like a ram. His legs were reversed and ended in black hooves that clicked loudly on the ground. He had lost track of time in the art studio and was heading back to his dorm. It was cold out that night, and it made his small tail twitch nervously. The night made him even more nervous. The campus wasn’t exactly the most peaceful one out there, and he knew he should be careful. He tried to take the most lighted path, directly through the campus. His hooves echoed and he didn’t like the sound, it made him feel alone. He smiled when he saw a figure walking ahead of him. It meant he wasn’t alone.

He quickened his pace, happy to see another person, even if he was heading the opposite way. The mans hands were shoved in the pockets of his jacket and he walked quickly, as if he had somewhere important to be. The ram hybrid slowly began loosing his smile as he got an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He swallowed and looked around at the empty campus around him. Far away you could hear the heavy music of a party, but other than that the night was still. He shook his head, it was just a man who was cold and was in a hurry to get warm. There was no reason to be afraid. He often found himself thinking the worst of people when he was alone at night, and crossed paths with a stranger. It was just a stupid thing he did, tricking himself into thinking he was in danger.

He smiled a little as he passed the man, who kept his head down as he walked past the infected. He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

‘See, you freak yourself out over nothing!’ he laughed at himself. His internal laugh was cut short when he felt a sharp pain in his back. He cried out, before falling to the ground. He was flipped over, and as he took his last breath he watched as the killer plunged the small pocket knife into his stomach, again and again.


“I would love nothing more than to sentence you to a few years in prison, Mr. Khan,” the judge said, addressing Ethan. “I don’t think that will help you all that much. You seem to have a history of prejudice against the infected,” the judge stated. “I want to see if we can do something about that.”

“Like what, Your Honor?” Ethan asked.

“You’re going to spend the next six months doing court appointed volunteer work at a facility that was created to care for infected citizens,” the judge replied. Ethan swallowed, how could this idiot actually think that was a good idea?

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Ethan’s lawyer said. Ethan glared at him as he began packing his briefcase.

“‘Thank you, Your Honor’ is all you have?” Ethan swore at him.

“Hey, kid. You’re lucky you’re not in jail, that infected kid almost died,” His lawyer returned. It was true, the poor ram hybrid he had stabbed was in the ICU. Ethan cursed as he left the courthouse. How was he supposed to spend the next six months in a big building with a bunch of infected scum running around?


Ethan stared up at the tall gray building. It looked like someone had taken some plain apartment buildings that should have been torn down a long time ago, and slapped on some new gray paint. It looked hopeless and desolate. The inside was only a little better. The walls were a dull beige, and a few pictures hung from the walls. But all that was in the lobby was a desk, three chairs, and a plastic plant in the corner.

“Hello, can I help you?” the blonde woman at the front asked him.

“Uh. I’m Ethan, the court appointed worker. This is my first day here,” he mumbled.

“Oh! Okay!” she said, showing her bubbly self. She grabbed a stack of papers and set them down. “I just need you to sign these and then we’re good to go!” she said. He quickly signed the papers, and then she walked out from behind the desk and headed down the hall. “Come on!” her high voice called out to him. He followed her lazily, just looking around the blank walls.

“My name’s Trish. I’m usually the one at the front desk, if I’m not there then it’s Aaron. He’s a really nice guy.” she smiled. Ethan gave a fake smile back and then rolled his eyes once she turned back around to watch where she was walking.

“So what exactly am I doing here? Moping floors or something...?” he grumbled.

“Oh no! Of course not!” she answered. “This program was started to help people who have been infected and don’t have anywhere else to go. A lot of times, families were killed in the camps. Or the infected were so badly disabled they couldn’t live on their own anymore. With no one else taking them in, that’s what we do! Those who can afford it pay rent, those who can't... well... they don’t,” she shrugged. “It’s a rough program, and we don’t have a lot of money, but we do what we can. What we really need is people to go in and talk to them. A lot of them get lonely and just need a friend. Sometimes that’s all they really need,” she smiled.

“Oh...” Ethan mumbled.

“So. What we’re going to do is set you up with a list of guests that you go and visit when you come here. You spend your time here with them and just keep them company,” he smiled.

“Oh...” Ethan repeated.

“Some of them are a little grumpy, but...” she leaned in and whispered “I tried to give you the nice ones.” She winked, and handed him a piece of paper. “Here are your guests. You spend as much time with them as you want, you just need to spend at least a half hour with each person, and then you’re free to leave,” she instructed.

“Okay,” Ethan said. He felt like he was just being thrown into this. He wondered if anyone had ever actually thought about what they were doing. Sending a guy who clearly hates infected to a place where he would be surrounded by them? Who’s idea was that?

“Here’s your first guest,” she said, stopping in front of an apartment. “Her name is Mrs. Fortune. She’s on the older side and she really just likes to talk to someone. She gets lonely. So just listen and let her do what she wants. If she falls asleep before the half hour is over, you can just leave,” Trish said, and left. Ethan stared at the door, before sighing and going inside.

The room was dark. Only one lamp was on in the back corner of the apartment. An older woman sat in an overstuffed armchair, knitting. The entire thing seemed very stereotypical. She was in a plain flowered dress, and there were hand-made doilies and couch throws and pillow covers everywhere. It smelled like Ethan’s grandmothers house. Mothballs and perfume.

“Hello?” Ethan called out to the woman.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you to knock, deary?” the old woman said, a strange after tone in her voice.

“Oh... sorry,” Ethan shut the door and apologized. Given the situation, it didn’t even occur to him to knock.

“Well, that’s alright, I suppose. Just don’t forget again,” she scolded him, and then turned on another light. The old woman had the unfortunate luck to be hybridized with the exact opposite of what an old woman would be. Black feathers hung from her arms, and she had a fairly large feathered tail. When she stood up, and walked toward the kitchen, was when Ethan noticed large black talons where feet should be. She looked unbalanced and awkward. Ethan wondered, for a moment, how she had survived the transformation. He felt guilty, thinking about the how the old woman should have died, but a little bit of that guilt was washed away when she squawked and shook the feathers on her long vulture neck.

Ethan was bored to tears. He was beginning to get dizzy from the smell of the woman’s heavy perfume, as well as getting itchy from the feathers that had landed almost everywhere. The entire place looked like a bird’s cage. It didn’t smell too far off from one either. The old woman, Mrs.Fortune, had spent the past twenty minutes talking about her son. After that, she spoke about knitting, and crocheting, and stitching, and sewing, and the different types of yarn, and needles, and threads, and everything else under the sun. Ethan thought he was going to kill himself.

“Well, sorry, Mrs. Fortune, but our half hour is up.” Ethan stood up, grabbing his jacket, which he had taken off since the small apartment was about 112 degrees.

“R-really? Oh my, that went by so fast!” Mrs. Fortune mumbled, looking at the large cuckoo clock that hung from the wall.

“Yeah it did, well I guess I’ll see you next week.” Ethan headed for the door, trying not to run.

“What? But you come in every day!” she exclaimed, cheerily. Ethan stared at the door with shock before turning around.

“W... what?” he stuttered.

“Nobody told you, dear? Why, yes! You come visit us everyday!” She smiled, oblivious to the horror that Ethan was feeling.

“Every... everyday,” he sighed and fell against the door. “Uh... right. I’ll see you... tomorrow,” he mumbled, and left.
“Hi!” Trish greeted him at the lobby. “How did you like Mrs. Fortune?”

“I have to come here every day!?” Ethan shouted.

“Oh... yes... I-I assumed the judge told you,” she mumbled.

“He told me I had to come for six months! I didn’t realize he meant every day for six months!” Ethan sighed and sat in a chair.

“I know it probably takes a little while to get used to... but you will. I promise, some of them can be really nice.” Trish walked around the desk to sit with him. After a moment of silence passed, she spoke up. “May I ask you about something?” she said quietly.

“Sure, what?” Ethan looked up from where he had let his head fall into his hands.

“Why did you hurt those boys? The infected ones. What did they do to you?” she asked. Ethan stared at her before answering.

“I don’t know. I just get so angry. I see them and I’m just so mad I can’t think. I just... I hate them so much,” he said quietly.

“I don’t understand,” she said. A small silenced passed between them before Ethan spoke.

“I don’t either,” he whispered.


After Ethan spoke with Trish, he had to move on to his next room. The room belonged to a young woman who had been in the infected camps as a child. She would have been the same age as Alex if he were still alive.

Ethan knocked softly, hoping she was asleep or something, but when a soft ‘Yes?’ floated through the wooden door, he sighed and pushed it open.

“Mackenzie? Uh... I’m Ethan,” he introduced himself.

“Oh, hi! Trish told me you were coming,” she stood up. Her hands were covered in sandy blonde fur, and it ran all the way up her arms and down below the neckline of her shirt. When she stood to greet Ethan he saw the sandy colored fur continued past her stomach and into the waist line of her jeans. Her face was now pushed out into a long snout. Her ears, also covered in sandy fur, hung down past her jaw and flopped in the air when she moved. Behind her, from a hole cut into the back of her jeans, was a thick wagging tail. She was a lab. Ethan had always liked dogs. But the most obvious thing about her, was that she was completely blind. Around her head, was a blindfold. The black cloth was wrapped tightly around her head so it wouldn’t slip, but was loose enough so that it would be comfortable.

“Hi.” He shook her hand when she held it out, trying not to cringe at the paw in front of him. She smiled, before making her way back to the seat on the couch she had occupied.

“So, tell me about yourself,” she smiled.

“Uh. Like what?” Ethan asked.

“Why did you decide to volunteer here?” she turned her head slightly. Ethan swallowed.

“They didn’t tell you?” he frowned.

“No. They just said someone new was working here,” she shook her head, curious still.

“Oh... I’m a court appointed worker,” he replied.

“I see...” she said, the question lying just under the two words, but not coming to the surface.

“I’m here for attempted murder,” Ethan said.

“Oh my... seems like an odd punishment,” she said.

“It was a hate crime against an infected. I have a bit of a history...” Ethan wished he could see her eyes. Ethan counted to himself, it was now three hate crimes against infected. All in a couple of years. Of course he wasn’t directly linked to Alex, but he didn’t do anything to stop it. So he counted that against himself.

“I understand... well, you answered my questions, so why don’t I answer some of yours?” she asked.

“What’s with the blindfold?” Ethan asked bluntly.

“I was in the camps when people first started getting sick. I lost both of my eyes there,” she said. “I wear this because it’s comfortable, and it helps to not creep people out.”

“Oh...” Ethan said. The conversation was forced and awkward for a while, but eventually they both began loosening up, and soon Ethan found he was forgetting she was even infected, until she got up to get a glass of water, and he saw the slowly wagging tail following her. Alone in the living room of the small apartment, he felt his anger begin to boil forward. His vision blurred as he felt the incredible rage fill him. It was unexplained and without cause, but it was definitely there. Mackenzie walked back out with the two glasses of water, and set them down on a table next to the couch before sitting down.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

“No. Just a little warm,” Ethan lied. How would it look to the judge if he couldn’t even handle a visit alone with an infected for half an hour? He looked at the clock, it had been twenty minutes.

‘I’m not going to jail’ Ethan thought to himself, watching the slowly ticking hands of the clock. He watched Mackenzie’s mouth as she continued to talk about what they had been chatting about before. He couldn’t remember what it was, it seemed so stupid now, whatever it was. Ethan’s breath quickened as Mackenzie spoke. The drops of water rolled down the glass slowly, hitting the wooden table and lying there. The water looked so good, but he didn’t want it. He didn’t know why he didn’t want it, but he really didn’t. Mackenzie’s dog-like lips moved as she laughed, her voice had long since faded away to Ethan. Now the only sounds were the ticking clock, and the dripping glass of water. In the back of his mind, Ethan knew the water didn’t make any sound, but in his head it sounded like a waterfall.

He snapped out of his trance when the clock chimed once, signalling the half hour mark. He stood faster than he should have, and turned to leave.

“Oh... I guess our time is...” Mackenzie was interrupted when Ethan slammed the door, “... up.”

“How many more do I have?” Ethan asked, after he had finished the fourth infected.

“Just one more, he’s a real sweet one, very shy.” Trish giggled, dropping her voice to a whisper she added, “don’t tell the others, but he’s my favorite.” She winked.

“Right,” Ethan said. He had a throbbing headache and several knots in his neck and back from the stress of being around so many people he hated. The migraine seemed to worsen every time Trish laughed, which was about ever three words. “Who’s next?” he asked, just wanting to get this over with so he could go home and crawl into bed.

“Carey,” she smiled.

“Carey? I thought you said it was a guy,” Ethan frowned when she handed him the room key.

“He is a guy,” Trish frowned. “It’s a unisex name,” she stuck her nose up and returned to her computer. When Ethan was beginning to walk away, she called out. “Ethan!” He turned around with a roll of his large green eyes. “If you hurt him, jail won't be your biggest problem, k?” She laughed and winked, returning to work. Ethan raised an eyebrow, before heading towards the last room of the day.


He knocked on the door, and at first he thought there wasn’t an answer, but when he waited a second too long, he heard a very soft “You can come in...”

He opened the door and looked inside the dimly lit apartment. After visiting the five infected rooms, he noticed that was one thing they all had in common. They all liked it dark. He stepped inside and for a long time he didn’t see anything, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust and then he saw the figure in the corner.

The man stood in the corner, nervously playing with something in his hands. He was fairly short, even across the room Ethan could see that the man was probably only 5’ 4”, give or take an inch. He was thin, whatever he was wearing clung to his lean body, showing off all of his small frame. In the pitch black of the room, Ethan thought he could make out a white long sleeve shirt, and some jeans. He didn’t look like he was wearing shoes, only socks. The man had one foot on top of the other, moving his toes nervously. He lifted his right foot and used the top of his foot to scratch his left calf. He coughed nervously.

“Sorry, I’ll turn a light on, I bet it’s pretty dark in here, huh?” he said, his voice very quiet and delicate. Ethan could hardly hear him. The man moved quickly, darting across the room to a wall. Ethan nearly lost sight of him, he moved so fast. There was a soft ‘click’ as the lights were turned on so that a normal person could see. The man had his back to Ethan and now he could see that he wasn’t actually wearing a shirt. What he thought was a white shirt before, was actually a fair amount of white fur. The fur danced down his back, and moved all the way around to the front of his body, stopping just past his sides, leaving most of his chest and stomach with only pale skin. The fur continued down his arms, stopping just at his knuckles, leaving his palms bare.

Ethan had been right about the pants. He wore a pair of blue jeans that hugged his small slender hips tightly. Even the small pants didn’t fit him and he was forced to wear a belt. But again, Ethan found himself wrong about another aspect of the man’s appearance. Covering his feet was more white fur, not socks. Sticking out from the back of the small blue jeans, was a long, long, tail. He held his tail nervously in his left hand, while his right still remained on the switch. Ethan swallowed when he saw the unusual sharp claws that decorated his fingertips. The man turned to face Ethan, who shivered at the sight of his beady black eyes, and the many long whiskers that protruded from just under his nose. Large round ears were pressed back against his head, a hint of fear and nervousness was given away by their placement.

“Hi, you must be Ethan,” his soft voice said again. Ethan almost couldn’t believe how soft and delicate his voice was. He wondered if he had always been that soft spoken, or if it was new with the change.

“Yeah,” Ethan mumbled. “Carey, right?” he asked. The mouse hybrid nodded, his ears wiggling a little bit with the jerky movement. He walked over to a couch that sat nearby, and sat down. Ethan was weirded out by how little sound his tiny feet made on the hardwood floors of the small apartment.

“Yeah... you can sit anywhere,” he replied in his soft voice. He held his tail nervously, but his round ears were now up and on alert. Ethan sat down and stared at the mouse, the anger starting to bubble up from nowhere. Carey was the one to start the conversation between them. As the half hour got further and further along, Ethan was suddenly aware of how calm he felt. The small bubble of anger had vanished and Ethan found himself only a little uneasy. It was as if Carey had some calming affect on him. He didn’t know what it was, and he didn’t particularly care what it was. All he knew was that it was nice to have a break from the rage.

Monday, June 25, 2012

Arlo Ch.04

I know it's a short chapter, bite me. <3

Hope you guys like the story so far, but if you don't...uh...sorry... My editor is still MIA so that's another thing I wanted to bring up. If anyone wants to take on the entertaining (and a little scary) task of becoming my editor, I'm sure everyone would appreciate not having to read my terrible typos and poor grammar. But just to make things clear, I use my editor for a beta reader, I bounce ideas off of him/her, editing (Duh), and just general tomfoolery. Is tomfoolery one word or two? I find it funny that Google doesn't highlight Tomfoolery as a misspelled word, but they highlight Google. Whatever, enjoy the story.

P.S. Make sure you vote in the top left corner for which day of the week you want a story on! I'm already probably going to switch Fridays to Saturdays. But I still need one more day!



"Yes,momma. I love you too, momma." Jake mumbled in his southern drawl. He hadn’t realized how attached to Arlo he had become in the short time they had known each other. But when he realized that Arlo had been lying to him the whole time, it really hurt. He hated to admit it, but he had acted like a bit of a child. He crawled into his truck, drove home, and called his mom. It had made him feel a little better, but not enough. He sniffled as he climbed into the shower. The hot water made him feel a little better, but it still wasn’t enough. He couldn’t get the thought of Arlo and that other guy out of his mind. Maybe he was just making something out of nothing. Maybe the other guy was Arlo’s brother or something. Maybe they were just friends. Jake shook the stupid thought from his mind.

‘Obviously they were more than friends.’ Jake sighed and sat on his bed. His phone rang, and he looked at the bright green screen, frowning when the name came up.


Jake ignored the call, and threw his phone into the living room. He fell back on his bed and sighed. How could a heart hurt this bad?

Arlo’s vision was blurred as Donovan fucked him. His mind wasn’t really in it, and he just lie there while Donovan finished. He wasn’t even hard. When Donovan finally rolled off of him, Arlo reached over to the nightstand, and grabbed a half empty beer that he had had his eye on the whole time. He chugged the warm beer, and let the bottle fall to the ground. He hadn’t been to work in three days. They kept calling, but the phone had been unplugged awhile ago. Donovan stumbled to the kitchen, and Arlo heard him trip over something, probably his own feet. He stumbled back into the bedroom a second later, a bottle in each hand. Arlo didn’t know where the booze kept coming from, he just knew they kept coming. He stole a bottle from Donovan, and opened it, taking a swig.

“Are you going back to work?” Donovan asked. Arlo turned and looked at the clock, realizing it was six a.m. The normal time he would leave for work.

“I don’t know.” Arlo shook his head. He knew he was wasted. He wouldn’t even be any good at work.

“You’ll get fired if you don’t go.” Donovan slurred.

“Does it look like I fucking care, Donovan?” Arlo snapped.

“Fuck you, Arlo!” Donovan shouted. Arlo screamed at him back and they continued to fight until neither of them even knew what they had been fighting about. Arlo shoved Donovan, hard. Donovan stood, and swung, hitting Arlo in the jaw. They were almost evenly matched. Donovan was slowed by the booze, and Arlo was a little numb from an equal amount of alcohol, but Donovan was still stronger. Donovan pinned Arlo to the ground and beat him endlessly. Arlo eventually stopped fighting, and only curled into a ball and accepted the abuse. He whimpered as Donovan kicked him in the ribs a few times, and then moved to aim at his stomach. Arlo accepted the abuse without a fight now.

‘Why does it matter? This is all my life is going to be. Jake hates me. This is what I deserve.” Arlo’s thoughts drifted lazily through his mind, as the blows began fading into a dull throb. He felt blood dripping from his nose, but didn’t really care. He shut his eyes, and just let the beating come.


As much as Officer Jake Hudson didn’t want to go to work, he had to. So he got into the squad car, with a frown on his face, and started the engine. He drove lazily around the city, looking for anything to take his mind off of Arlo, when dispatch came over the radio.

“55 respond.” Dispatch called out to Jake.

“I copy, dispatch go ahead.” Jake called back.

“We got a 415 on 687 Coit Tower way. Possible 217.” Dispatch responded.

“217? Are you sure, Dispatch?” Jake said, in a small town such as theirs, a 217, assault with intent to murder, was close to impossible.

“Yes, sir. Just got a report of a 390D, too.” Dispatch said. Usually they weren’t so casual over the radio, but in a small town, nobody really cared anymore.

“Same place, Dispatch?” Jake frowned, as he turned the cruiser around.

“Yep. Officers already on the scene.” She responded. Jake drove in silence for a moment longer before he realized where he was going.

“Dispatch, what was that addy you gave me?” Jake frowned.

“687 Coit Tower.” Dispatch repeated. Jake felt himself go a little pale. That was Arlo’s address.

“Can you hear me? Arlo, can you hear me?” The voice echoed in Arlo’s mind. He groaned and opened his eyes. At least he tried to, they only opened a fraction of the way, letting in a small picture of what was in front of him. A paramedic Arlo recognized from the hospital was crouched in front of him on the floor. A few cops wandered around his house, tripping over beer cans and empty bottles. His neighbor stood at the door, talking to one of the police officers. He sat up. His head spun violently and before he could stop himself, he fell to his side and threw up. He spit and coughed as the last of his stomach contents were emptied onto the medic’s shoes. He felt bad, but then remembered that this poor guy probably delt with the same drunk assholes six times a day. Then he realized he was one of those drunk assholes.

The paramedic helped him up, and walked him over to a chair. Donovan was nowhere to be seen, but the house was trashed. It took Arlo a second to realize it had looked like this before he had blacked out. Bottles and cans littered the floor, and the bedding looked like it hadn’t been changed in weeks. The house reeked of booze and piss. Arlo glanced out the open window, and winced at the light, but noted that Donovan’s car wasn’t there.

“Damn, Arlo.” The medic mumbled, as he began dabbing at a wound on Arlo’s temple. Arlo’s head throbbed and the room wouldn’t stop spinning. He needed a drink.

“I’m fine.” Arlo shoved the paramedics hand away, and stood up. He wobbled on his feet, and almost fell over before he could take a step. He caught himself, and headed towards the kitchen. He opened the cupboard they kept the booze in, but it was empty except for an overturned bottle that had spilled vodka over the shelf. He frowned and looked up at the light fixture on the kitching ceiling. He pulled out a chair and carefully climbed on top of it. He fumbled around before his fingers wrapped around the neck of a bottle. He was pulling it out of the pale light fixture when the room spun again, sending him into a dive off the chair. He prepared himself to land on the ground, but only let out a soft ‘oof’ when he fell into somebody's arms. The bottle still clutched in his hands. He looked up, and realized Jake was holding him. He was in his officer's uniform, with a solid scowl on his face. Arlo swallowed, and looked down at the bottle. He raised it to his lips once he twisted off the cap, but Jake set him down roughly on his feet, making him drop the glass bottle. It shattered and Arlo looked up at him with angry eyes. “The fuck!?” He swore.

“The medic needs to look you over.” Jake grabbed him roughly by the upper arm, and dragged him over to the medic who he had shoved away earlier.

“I’m fine.” Arlo pulled his arm out of his grip with a scowl.

“Just sit the fuck down, Arlo.” Jake cursed at him. Arlo stared at him for a moment, before doing as he was told and sat down. The medic looked him over, with Jake attempting to look busy nearby. After a few moments, he stood up.

“I want to take you to the hospital. There’s a couple of things I’m worried about.” The medic said, and led Arlo to the ambulance.

Arlo didn’t know it, but Jake followed him to the hospital. He worried about the man. Arlo hadn’t taken the chance to look at himself in a mirror, but he looked like hell. His hair was matted with blood, his eyes were swollen, his ribs looked even worse under his torn shirt. He limped pathetically and grimaced if he moved his left wrist. Whoever had done this to him, had did it well.

That brought another thought to Jake’s mind. Who attacked him? His boyfriend, the word made Jake scowl, was nowhere to be seen. He would make it a point to ask Arlo once he was checked out.


Arlo had one broken rib, a broken wrist, and a minor concussion, but he still wanted a drink more than anything. His head throbbed and it seemed like the pain almost got worse when Jake walked into the room. Arlo swore quietly when he sat down.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Jake asked, in his thick southern drawl.

“No.” Arlo said.

“Come on, Arlo. We only want to help you.” Jake said.

“I don’t want your help, so go suck a bag of dicks.” Arlo snapped. Jake stared at him a moment.

“Well, I guess you were right.” Jake said.

“What?” Arlo frowned.

“When you said that you weren’t the same when you were drunk.” Jake stared at him. Arlo felt a pang of guilt as he remembered opening up to the bigger man. How Jake hadn’t judged him, only accepted his past and said he was looking forward to the future. He wanted more than anything to make Jake forgive him. “Where’s your boyfriend?” Jake asked. Arlo stared at him, he could see tears coming forward in Jake’s eyes as he tried to be proffesional.

“I don’t know.” Arlo said. “I don’t really care, either.” He mumbled. Jake just kept staring at him. “Take a fucking picture, Jake. It will last longer.” He rolled his eyes.

“Did he do this to you?” Jake asked. Arlo just looked down at the bed quietly.

“It wasn’t a patient, was it?” Jake mumbled.

“What?” Arlo frowned.

“The bruise on your neck. It wasn’t a patient. Fuck, how could I be so stupid!” Jake shouted suddenly. He stood up and paced the hospital room angrily. “You showed all the signs. You were hiding things, and you were lying!” Jake shouted. Tears fell from his eyes and he covered his face with his hands. “How long?” Jake asked.

“What are you talking about?” Arlo shook his head.

“How long was he hurting you? How long were you together? I don’t know! Just how long?” Jake kept yelling.

“He was the boyfriend I told you about. When I started drinking.” Arlo mumbled.

“How could you do this? How could you go back to this?” Jake asked, gesturing at Arlo, who swayed a little bit.

“What the fuck was I supposed to do!?” Arlo shouted at him.

“Call somebody! Call anybody! Call me! I would have taken you away from him! You didn’t need to drink, you didn’t need to lie to me!” Jake shouted, tears still falling down his face.

“I know!” Arlo finally gave in. He cried hard as he told Jake the truth, “I was going to! The night you came over, I was going to leave him, and I was going to tell you what happened, tell you everything.” Arlo sobbed. “But then you came and wrecked it! You ruined it all and then you left and I was alone!” Arlo cried hard. Jake stared at him, before walking over and falling down next to Arlo’s bed. Forgetting he was on duty, he took Arlo’s head in his hands and brought it to his chest, hugging him tight. Arlo cried, and Jake cried, and they both just collapsed into each other until neither of them could cry anymore. Arlo mumbled something.

“What?” Jake sniffed, and pulled away just enough to see Arlo’s tear stained face.

“I want help.” Arlo whispered. Jake nodded and hugged him again.

“I can help you.” Jake said, and kissed Arlo’s forehead.

“I don’t want to see Donovan again.” Arlo couldn’t help the sob that escaped at the mention on his name.

“You don’t have to.” Jake kissed his temple and stroked his hair. He stood suddenly, and wiped the tears from his eyes. “The Doctors said you need your rest. I’ll come back when you’re awake, okay?” Jake said. Arlo nodded.

“Promise?” Arlo asked.

“Yeah, I promise.” Jake kissed him one more time, before turning and leaving.


Friday, June 22, 2012

Arlo Ch.03

Since I don't have story #2 finished yet, you get another chapter of story #1 (Arlo obviously) But it should be ready next week. So Monday you get Arlo Ch.04 and Friday you get Of mice and men ;) which is a sequel, I just wont tell you of what.

P.S. I've gotten several (Several meaning like 600 O_O)complaints about the email thing not working. I have no idea why it's not working, or how to fix it. I'm not exactly a tech savvy person, but I'll look into it and see what I can do. If it helps at all, I always post on twitter when I have new posts. But I'll still try to get this problem fixed.


Arlo rushed through the front doors of the Emergency Room. He was half an hour late, and he felt bad about it. he was almost always early though, so he knew no one would give him shit.

“Hey, Arlo. What are you doing in here so late?” Ronda greeted him as he went to check which patients were in.

“Sorry, Ronda. I had to stop by my house this morning to get a change of clothes.” Arlo said. He had spent the night at Jakes, and it was some of the best sleep he’d had in a long time.

“Stop by? Where did you sleep last night? I hope it was with that tall dark and handsome beauty of a man who brought you lunch.” Ronda raised an eyebrow.

“Well...Actually. I did spend the night with him....But all we did was sleep.” Arlo added sternly, when Ronda gasped and sat up, as if ready to gossip about boys.

“Uh huh, sure honey. We all know what goes on behind closed doors.” She winked.

“Ronda!” Arlo couldn’t help but blush. The older woman giggled, and walked away with a clipboard in hand. Arlo smiled, and got back to work.

It had been a long day. Arlo had had a patient who had somehow managed to hammer a nail through his hand. completely through the middle of his hand. He wasn’t really sure how he managed to do that without help, but he just rolled his eyes and accepted it. It had been a long day, but it was almost over. Arlo changed out of his hospital clothes, and back into his street clothes. He was tying the shoes he had gotten that morning, when his cell phone rang. He picked it up and saw it was only a text.

Donovan: Wats for dinner?

Arlo rolled his eyes.

Arlo: Idk. Im not sure if Im coming home tonight or not.

The thought was a happy one. If he could stay with Jake another night. If he could be held by him again...His thoughts were interrupted by another chirp of his phone.

Donovan: U better be.

The words were cold and hollow, and Arlo couldn’t help but feel a little terror when he read them the first time, and the second and the third. He decided he would go home that night. Whatever made Donovan happy.

Luckily the walk home wasn’t long. Jake had offered to give him a ride home, but of course Arlo declined. He was terrified of what Donovan would do if he saw Arlo with another man. Even if it was just a ride home.

He stepped through the door into the living room and looked around. Donovans car was here, but Arlo couldn’t find him. He sighed and went into the kitchen to see what they had. After finding the stuff to make spaghetti, he got to work. The water had just started boiling, when Donovan walked in.

“Hey, where’ve you been?” Arlo asked, not looking for his shoulder.

“I could be asking you the same thing.” Donovan set a beer down on the table as he sat. Arlo sighed.

“Come on, Donovan. Is it so much to ask that you just not drink around me? It’s hard enough being sober as it is, but having you flaunting everything around me makes it worse. It only makes us fight, too.” Arlo sighed and rubbed the top of his nose.

“Then make it easier on both of us and just take a drink. Maybe it will loosen you up a little.” Donovan spat. Arlo stared at him wordlessly for a minute.

“You know I’m not going to do that.” Arlo turned back to the dinner, before he started crying. He couldn’t help the small sobs that spilled forward. He covered his mouth, trying to muffle the sounds of pain.

“I’m sorry, Arlo.” Donovan left the beer and moved to hug Arlo to his chest. Arlo sighed and turned around, loving the embrace of his lover. Donovan kissed the top of his head and rubbed his back. “You’re right, I shouldn’t bring this shit around you.” He nodded towards the beer.

“Thank you.” Arlo wiped away his tears.

“Forgive me?” Donovan poked out his lip. Arlo nodded and stood on his tip toes to kiss him. Donovan smiled and returned the kiss. “Mmmm, smells good.” he smiled as he leaned over Arlo to look at the food.

“No peaking. It will be ready in a few minutes, why don’t you set the table?” Arlo asked. Donovan nodded and moved to get the silverware.

“How was work?” Donovan asked.

“Busy. I don’t know what it is with people these days but they do some of the stupidest things I’ve ever seen.” Arlo chuckled.

“Well, it’s a good thing they have you around to take care of them. Just like you take care of me.” Donovan finished putting down the plates and silverware and moved back to hug Arlo. Arlo practically purred at the touches from Donovan.

“Well, not exactly how I take care of you.” Arlo smiled and turned to face Donovan, dinner forgotten. He wrapped his arms around Donovan and kissed him roughly. They headed towards the bedroom, and Arlo stopped quickly to turn off the warming sauce. They fell into bed, tearing each others clothes off as they went. Soon, Arlo was naked and Donovan was kicking off his last sock. Donovan reached for the lube and positioned himself between Arlo’s legs. He slathered his cock with lube, and put a heavy glob on Arlo’s hole. He pushed two of his thick fingers in, making Arlo grunt, and then sigh with pleasure. Donovan worked his fingers in and out for a moment, before pulling his fingers out, and lining up his cock. He thrust into Arlo in one quick motion, making Arlo cry out in pleasure. Arlo held his knees to his chest as Donovan pounded in and out of him. He was lost in the pleasure as Donovan bent to take a tender nipple into his mouth. He grunted and let one of his knees free, to allow his hand to thread through Donovan’s hair.

Donovan thrust into him one last time, before pulling out and flipping him over. He pulled Arlo up so he was on his hands and knees, and pushed into him again. Arlo gripped the sheets as Donovan got closer and closer to his release. Donovan slipped a hand under them and began jacking Arlo off. Arlo moaned and whimpered as he began cumming. He bit his lip and sighed as his release covered the bed. His toes curled as the intense orgasm sent his body into shivers. As he was coming down from his high, Donovan came. He pulled Arlo back hard onto his cock, and pulled him up so he was standing on his knees, with his back arched back so that his ass was a close to his cock as it could get. Donovan grunted as he began filling Arlo with hot cum.

Without warning, Donovan bit down on Arlo’s shoulder. Arlo sighed at the pain and pleasure mixed, and then cried out when there was only pain. Donovan’s hands dug into his hips, and his teeth clenched down on the tender flesh of Arlo’s shoulder.

“Ah! Donovan stop!” Arlo struggled to pull away, but Donovan was lost in his orgasm. He bit down even harder. Arlo sobbed and tried to pull away, but only made the bite worse. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Donovan let go. Arlo struggled to get away from him. He fell onto his stomach on the bed, and crawled away. He shivered at the feeling of Donovan’s cock slipping out of him. Cum leaked down his leg as he fell out of the bed and scrambled into the bathroom, wrapped up in the sheet from the bed. He heard Donovan stand up and him walk out of the bedroom. He could hear water running in the kitchen.  Arlo turned his attention away from Donovan, and to the bite on his shoulder. It was worse than he thought.

Arlo gasped at the bite. It looked like something from a horror movie. The flesh was red and oozing blood slowly. The individual teeth marks were clear on his pale skin. The bite was deep, and he thought he would need stitches. It was definitely going to get infected. He touched the wound carefully, and had to bite his tongue to keep from sobbing. He let the sheet fall to the floor, as he reached for the first aid kit they kept under the sink. He cleaned the wound, with many tears and sobs in the process, and then put a thick bandage over it. In a few minutes, the blood was already seeping through. He took a few mild painkillers, and walked back to the bedroom to get dressed. After slipping on some sweats and a loose sweatshirt, he walked out into the kitchen. Donovan sat at the table, eating a bowl of spaghetti, with a side of garlic bread Arlo had made.

“This is good, babe.” Donovan said, not even looking up. Arlo stared at him for a moment, before walking over to the counter and attempting to look busy while dishing himself up a bowl. He was finally forced to sit down across from Donovan. He wasn’t hungry, and only stared at his boyfriend who suddenly seemed ravenous. Arlo narrowed his eyes as he saw a smudge of sauce on Donovan’s chin. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn’t spaghetti sauce, it was blood. Donovan had Arlo’s blood on his chin. Arlo stared at his boyfriend until he was done eating, and went to bed. He sat at the kitchen table in the dark for a long time, before getting up, and crawling into bed with Donovan.

Jake sat at his desk, bored. He was put on desk duty for a few days since they needed someone to take over while someone was out sick. Plus, with his arm, he was already being eyed at to be put on the desk until he healed. He hated it, there was nothing to do. He chewed on a pen cap lazily and looked up at the ceiling. Suddenly, his eyes were drawn to his computer and he sat up, still chewing on the pen cap. He typed in a few words quickly into the database, and bit his pen cap hard when he saw a few results come up.

He had been curious about Arlo since the day he met him. He had a bad habit of looking people up in the police database once he met them. He couldn’t help it, he was just naturally curious. He looked at the results for Arlo on the screen. The screen glowed a dim blue in the darkness of his office. He wanted to click on them so badly, but was it an invasion of privacy? Of course it was. But he did it anyways. He clicked on the first report that came up. He scanned them quickly, just trying to find out more about the mysterious lying man he had grown so fond of over the last few days.

The first report was a complaint filed by a neighbor when Arlo was nineteen. It was obvious from the description Arlo had been drunk. The one after that was the same, and after that. And after that. Jake was surprised with how many results came up on the database for the young doctor who seemed so quiet and peaceful.

“He must be one hell of a mean drunk.” Jake mumbled to himself, after seeing Arlo was taken into custody after he had gotten into a bar fight with another man. A picture of Arlo came up. He looked like hell. He was obviously a lot younger, but you wouldn’t know it just by looking at him. His hair was dirty and matted, and his skin was splotched with dirt. He had an extremely pissed off look in his eyes, almost like a feral cat. Dark cricles weighed his eyes down, a sure sign of an insomniac. Jake continued searching through the reports, up until the year Arlo said he had quit drinking. There were a few outbursts, Arlo had gotten into a fight with somebody at an AA meeting, and then there was another outburst a few weeks later, but then after that the record was spotless. Jake sighed and sat back in his seat. This all told him nothing he didn’t already know.

He knew Arlo was an alcoholic, and that he had had a rough couple of years. He knew that he had probably gotten into some fights and done some stupid shit. But this didn’t explain why he was lying to him, or what he was lying to him about. Jake picked up the pen cap from where it had fallen on his desk, and stuck it back into his mouth. He looked over at his cellphone, and picked it up.

Arlo finished vaccuming just as his phone rang. He answered it, without looking at who was calling.

“Hello?” He mumbled. He didn’t sleep well and was in a lot of pain from the bite that was already turning purple and was swelling.

“Hey. Are you allergic to phones or something? It seems like everytime I call you’re in a bad mood.” Jake laughed on the other line. Arlo laughed.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t get a lot of sleep. Work and all.” Arlo lied. Most doctors had problems with their hours, but he liked his.

“I understand, it gets like that around here, too.” Arlo loved the way Jake sounded like he was smiling all the time.

“So what’s up?” Arlo asked, moving to the bathroom to take another look at the bite.

“Nothing. I just wondered if you wanted to do lunch.” Jake asked. “My lunch break is coming up, we can meet at a park. I’ll pick something up.” Jake said.

“That sounds like a lot of fun.” Arlo said honestly. He wondered if he would be able to hide the bite under a shirt.

“Cool, I’ll meet you at the bench we ate at that day. Across from the hospital?” Jake asked.

“Sure. I’ll see you in a few,” Arlo said.

“See you.” Jake said, and hung up. Arlo changed the bandage on his shoulder, and moved to get dress. After struggling to find a shirt that would hide the wound, he decided on a short sleeve that barely hid it, and then a sweat shirt over that. He pulled on his shoes, and grabbed his keys.

Arlo laughed, finishing his box of fried rice. He reached for the beef with brocoli that they were sharing. They had sat at the same bench, and were both sitting cross legged on the top of the table.

“How did you know I love Chinese food so much?” Arlo asked.

“Everyone loves chinese food, otherwise you have no soul. You know that.” Jake said casually. Arlo laughed and took another bite with his chop sticks. “I’ll never know how you can use those damn things.” Jake scowled at the two sticks like they were Satan. He kissed his plastic fork. “This is the only way to go.” He laughed. Arlo rolled his eyes and took another bite of beef.

“You’re a dork.” Arlo laughed. Jake chuckled and then looked up, a funny look in his eyes.

“Hey, can I tell you something?” Jake asked. Arlo swallowed his bite of food.

“Sure.” He said, listening closely.

“I did a stupid thing and looked you up in the police database.” Jake blushed. Arlo blushed and looked down at the table.

“Oh...” He mumbled. Jake put his hand on top of Arlo’s.

“I wasn’t prying, I was just curious. I want you to know that I don’t care about anything that you did in the past. You made some wrong choices, and you’re aware of that. On top of that, you set it right and got sober. It’s something to be proud of, not to be ashamed of.” Jake said. Arlo smiled.


“No problem. I do have to say one thing though.” Jake smiled. “You really did all those things? You just seem so quiet and sweet. The friendly neighborhood doctor got into a bar brawl with a biker? I saw a picture of that guy, he was like four times your size!” Jake laughed. Arlo couldn’t help but laugh, too.

“Yeah...I’m not a nice drunk. One of the reasons I stopped.” Arlo brushed his hair out of his eyes.

“I guess you really can't judge a book by it’s cover, huh?” Jake smiled.

“Well, if we were doing that, you would look like some big dumb redneck of a cop.” Arlo poked fun.

“Ouch!” Jake put a hand over his heart as if Arlo had stabbed him.

“It’s okay, though. I’ve always had a thing for big dumb cops.” Arlo smiled and got closer. He claimed Jake’s lips in a kiss. Jake moaned under the pressure of Arlo’s lips. He wrapped oone arm around Arlo’s waist, and the other was threaded through his hair. He kissed back and the two made out for a short time, getting more passionate as they went. Arlo screamed as Jake suddenly fell back.

“Whoa!” He cried, before tumbling off the table and hitting the sidewalk hard. He grunted in pain as Arlo giggled and laughed with the rediculousness of the situation.

“Oh my god. Are you okay?” He tried to muffle his laugh with a hand as Jake rubbed the back of his head.

“Ah...I think so.” Jake laughed. He pulled his hand back and frowned when it was smeared with a little blood.

“Oh! Jeez. I’m so sorry. Come on, I can put a band aid on it and kiss it better.” Arlo pulled him up. Jake laughed and swayed a little once he was on his feet. “Are you okay?” Arlo asked again.

“Yeah, just a little bump on the head is all.” Jake chuckled. Arlo led him into the ER and into an empty exam room, passing Ronda as he went. He sat Jake down and slipped on a pair of gloves, snapping them into place. “That would be a lot more sexy if I wasn’t seeing four of you.” Jake laughed. Arlo shook his head and giggled.

“Let me see, you big klutz.” He laughed, and searched through Jake’s short hair. “You have a small gash, your head just bleeds a lot. I guess with no brain and all, you have a lot of room for blood in there.” Arlo joked. Jake punched him playfully in the ribs, making him giggle. “I’ll clean it up for you. I’ll probably give you a few stitches.” Arlo said. He swabbed out the cut, making sure it was clean, before giving Jake two stitches.

“Thanks, Doc.” Jake said, once Arlo was finished.

“Hey hey hey.” Arlo said, when Jake stood up. He looked confused. “I didn’t say I was done with you yet, sit your butt down.” He pointed back down. Jake did as he was told and sat. Arlo stepped up close to him and draped his arms over his shoulders.

“Whad’ are ya doin’, Doc?” Jake smiled a little.

“I told you I would kiss it and make it better.” Arlo whispered, and kissed Jake again. He fell back, this time onto the bed as Arlo climbed on top of him.

“I wouldn’t peg you as the kind of guy who chases down his men, Doc.” Jake laughed, as Arlo kissed down his chin.

“I’m not usually, I guess you’re just a special case.” He winked. “Besides, I owe you for lunch.” Arlo moved all the way down, and unzipped Jake’s pants.

“Uh...Whad’ are ya doin’, Doc?” Jake repeated.

“You treated me to lunch, now this is my treat.” Arlo smiled. He fished Jake’s cock out of his pants and stroked it until it began getting hard. Jake looked down at him, mouth open as he gasped for air. His eyes rolled back in his head as he moaned at the warm sensation of Arlo covering his cock with his mouth. Arlo began sucking him off slowly. Jake grunted as he came, filling Arlo’s mouth with cum. Arlo closed his eyes as he swallowed, savoring the salty taste of Jake’s release.  He licked Jake clean, and put his cock back into his underwear, before zipping up his pants.

“Damn, Doc. You know how to treat a man.” Jake said, still trying to catch his breath.

“That was probably stupid of me. You shouldn’t exert yourself too much.” Arlo put his hand on Jakes head. “Let me know if you have any bad headaches or anything, okay?” Arlo said.

“Sure thing, Doc.” He stood, and adjusted himself in his pants.

“You should probably get back to work.” Arlo blushed. Jake looked up at the clock.

“Damn, I’m half an hour late.” He shrugged. Arlo laughed.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized.

“It’s fine, Doc.” Jake said, and picked up his jacket, heading for the door. “Oh, and Doc?” Jake turned around, as they were about to go their separate ways.

“Yeah?” Arlo turned his head.

“Thank you.” He tilted Arlo’s chin up, and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. Arlo smiled and watched Jake leave. He had never swallowed for Donovan.

Jake smiled as he got home after the long day at work. The lunch break with Arlo had been nice, but it ended too quickly, though the ending was very, very, very nice.

Jake sat down on the couch and frowned as he sat down on a bump. He stood up, and lifted up the cushion, lookign for whatever had caused the couch to become lumpy. A plastic bag had fallen between the cushions. Jake opened it and realized they were Arlo’s wet clothes from the other night. He looked at the clock and realized it was still early. He threw them in the washer, before making himself something to eat before he went to drop off Arlo’s clothes.


Arlo wasn’t really hungry. He had eaten some left overs from his lunch with Jake not to long ago, but he knew that Donovan was. He was making plain ol’ boxed mac n cheese and was letting the sauce thicken. Donovan had gotten home awhile ago, and was downing beer after beer after beer. Arlo didn’t want to say anything. It had finally reached the point where he was actually scared of Donovan. His lover was once so nice and peaceful, but when he drank everything changed.

“Come here, Baby.” Donovan beckoned him over. Arlo walked over to the table, which was littered with a few empty beer cans. Donovan yanked him down onto his lap by the wrist.

“Ouch, Donovan. Would you stop being so rough with me?” Arlo was getting annoyed.

“You know you like it.” He moved to kiss Arlo, who pulled away.

“Ugh, you smell like beer.” He tried to stand.

“You like that, too. Come on, I miss the old Arlo.” He yanked Arlo’s chin to the side, and kissed him. He forced his tongue inside Arlo’s mouth, who grunted and tried to pull away. Donovan’s grip was strong, and Arlo only stood once he was released.

“Fuck, Donovan!” He wiped his mouth. The taste of beer was clear and it lingered on his tongue. The flavor brought back old memories, and he was dying for a sip. Even if it was just one sip, he wanted anything.

“Come on, Arlo. Just relax, have a drink with me.” Donovan cracked open another beer and pushed it towards Arlo.

“Fuck you, Donovan. Why the fuck am I even here? What the fuck kind of person does this?” Arlo was pissed now. He pointed at the bite on his shoulder.

“I know you like it rough, Arlo.” Donovan began getting that cold predator look in his eyes.

“No I don’t! No matter how many times YOU say it, that’s not what I feel!” Arlo snapped. “Stop bringing this shit into my house!” Arlo threw the open beer can. It hit the wall and beer splattered, dripping down the wall and onto the floor.

“Hey!” Donovan stood up, he was about to say more, when there was a knock on the door. The two stared at each other, in a stand off, until Arlo spoke.

“I’ll get it.” He whispered coldly, and headed towards the door. He was done with Donovan, and his shit. His time with Jake had taught him better. Donovan was mean, and abusive and he needed to get away from him. He needed to tell Jake the truth.

“Jake...”He gasped, when he opened the door. Jake stood there in the dim light of the sunset.

“Hey.” He smiled. “I come baring gifts.” He held up the washed clothes, with a red rose on top, and a single gummy worm. Arlo couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. but the smile was quickly wiped off when he saw Jake frown.

“Can I help you?” Donovan’s voice echoed from behind him. Arlo froze as it felt like the world was falling down around him. Jake looked so hurt, Donovan sounded so cold. Why did this all happen now?

“Uh...No I was just dropping off some stuff for the Doc.” Jake said. Arlo heard Donovans deep chuckle.

“Doc, huh? Maybe I should start calling you that.” Donovan wrapped an arm around Arlo’s waist, and kissed the spot right below his ear. Arlo shrugged him off roughly, as Jake’s look of curiousity turned into a look of pain.

“Jake...Please just let me-”

“No, it’s fine. Sorry to interrupt.” He pushed the clothes into Arlo’s hands and turned to walk towards his beaten up truck.

“Jake! Please...” Arlo shouted. He saw Jake raise a hand to wipe away a tear and sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep the sobs back as he climbed into his car. “Jake, I’m sorry!” Arlo cried out. Jake started the truck, and drove off. Arlo let his head fall as the sounds of the truck disappeared. The door shut suddenly, closing him off from Jake and the outside world. Tears began falling from Arlo’s face, but he didn’t know what they were for, if they were for the beating that was to come, or for the love he had just lost.

Arlo had to call in sick to work the next day. His lip was swollen, and both his eyes were black. His throat was sore from where Donovan had pulled him back away from the door by his neck. It was also sore from the sobs of pain and regret he had after seeing Jake turn to leave.

“Who the fuck was that? Are you fucking cheating on me you piece of shit? I knew you were nothing but a fucking whore!” Donovan had shouted, before laying into Arlo. Arlo had cringed and tried to protect himself from the heavy onslought of blows to his face and sides. But it had done no good, after the beating, Donovan had stormed out and Arlo hadn’t seen him since.

Arlo forced himself to stand up. His mouth was dry and he was dying for a cup of water. He took a look at himself in the mirror in the hallway and was surprised that he didn’t look as bad as he felt. His swollen eyes had started to fade and the bruises around his throat weren’t that bad. He stepped into the kitchen and opened the fridge, looking for a cool bottle of water. The first thing that caught his eye was the six pack of beer sitting on the top shelf. He turned away from the temptation, and reached for a cup to get some water. As if it had been Strategically placed there, his hand landed on a full bottle of whiskey. He stared at the bottle in his hands for a moment, before reaching into the cupboard and grabbing a shot glass. He filled it to the brim, and tossed back the burning liquid. He coughed once, before setting the glass and the bottle on the table. He reached inside the fridge and pulled out the beer. He searched the rest of the fridge and found nothing. He moved up to the freezer and pulled out a bottle of Vodka, and another bottle of Gin.

He moved back to the table, setting his treasures down. Without hesitation, he cracked one of the beers, and chugged it in a few sips. He opened another beer and was drinking that while he poured himself another shot of whiskey. He finished the beer in time to drink the heavy shot. By the time the six pack was gone, he was beginning to feel sick. He looked over at the bottle and realized he had already downed a fifth of whiskey. The Gin and Vodka still lay there untouched. He reached for the vodka, but his hand fell lethargically to the table as he blacked out.

Arlo opened his eyes and grunted at the kitchen light. Donovan held a bottle of captain morgans in his hand, staring down at Arlo. Arlo blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision as he looked around. Beer cans littered the floor, and the bottle of whiskey was still open. He was covered in vomit and so was the floor. His mouth tasted like the vile liquid.  Donovan bent and pulled Arlo up with one arm. Arlo swayed as he stood, and sat down on the kitchen chair before he could pass out again. Donovan stared at him for a moment longer, and Arlo stared back, before reaching a hand out and taking the bottle from his hand, opening it, and taking a long swig. He handed it back, and Donovan sat down and gladly accepted.