Westpoint Tales
by Kiwi
Jason and Jordan's tale - 9
Jordan stormed out of the house and slammed the door behind him. He stalked along through the streets of Westpoint, walking so fast that he was almost running.
He was angry, really angry, like he was possessed by rage. "Fucking Idiot!" he spat to no-one in particular, though he knew exactly who he meant.
"How could he? How could he be so bloody stupid?"
He crossed the town in record time, went into his room and threw himself on to the bed. He couldn't stay there though, it was like the anger had made him supercharged. So he got up again, got a wire brush and went up and attacked the roof.
They called alcoholism a family disease. It affected the whole family, not just the person who was actually drinking, the person who was a drunk. He'd seen the destruction that alcoholism did, the lives it wrecked.
People drunk for all sorts of different reasons, most of them could get away with it, but for some, for some people, there was nothing but misery and death in the bottom of the bottle. He hated booze. It was an addictive drug and it was a killer.
"How could he? How could someone so talented, so brilliant, be so bloody stupid?"
He powered the rust off the roof, angrily attacking every spot he found with his brush.
"Whoa! Slow down there, Little Brother. You'll be scrubbing holes in the roof."
"Piss off Michael. I'm busy here."
"I can see that. I can see there's more to it than just working though. What's got you so worked up? Has someone been giving you grief? I told you, Jordie, I'm on your side." Michael sat down and he put his foot on the brush to stop it.
"No!" he spat, then he looked at his brother's worried face, smiled and relaxed a bit.
"Thanks Michael. Thanks, but it's nothing like that."
"What then? What's wrong, Jordie?"
"It's, umm, well I've got this friend - I had this friend."
"Some friend! Who is he? What did he do? I'll kick his arse whatever it was."
"No you won't. It's not like that. There's this boy and I like him, I really like him, you know?"
"And that's making you angry?"
"No. Look - he's a great kid, he really is. He's nice and he's so talented. He's an artist, a bloody brilliant artist - makes me look like I'm all thumbs."
"Are you jealous then? Is that it?"
"No, I'm not jealous. His life's fucked up. His mum's gone and his dad is never there for him. He lives alone for, like three out of every four days, and he hates it."
"So?"
"So he's drinking. He's drinking to cope with it - hard liquor, vodka. He says that he needs it. Fifteen years old and he needs to drink. We both know where that's going to go."
"Is this kid gay?"
"Yes he is, he says. But that's got nothing to do with it."
"I think it's got a lot to do with it. I think that you might be in love with this boy, Jordie."
"I am not! I hardly know him. Oh, I don't know, maybe. But I'm not. I'm not getting involved with anyone who's a drunk. I can't and I'm not."
"So why are you crying, Little Brother?" Michael asked quietly. He reached out and pulled Jordan towards him.
Jordan collapsed against his brother's broad chest and the trickle of tears became a torrent. Michael sat quietly holding him as he cried.
"Want me to kick his arse anyway?"
"No. No, Michael," he grinned. "You leave him alone. He's a great kid. He might even be a genius, he's got so much talent. It's his life, if he wants to fuck it up, that's his business. I'm not getting involved with anyone who's a drunk, I can't."
"Looks to me like you are getting involved."
"No I'm not, and I'm not going to either. He can go there by himself. Thanks Mickey."
"Anytime, Jordie.”
They sat quietly for a couple of minutes until Michael could feel that Jordan was starting to get fidgety, so he released him. With a small grin he asked, “Feeling better? I'll leave you to it. Don't destroy the roof, it's the only one we've got. Anytime you want to talk, I'll be here."
"Yeah. I know. Thanks, Big Brother."
Michael got down the ladder and Jordan carried on working, at a sensible pace now. He did feel much better. He had a great family. Jason had nothing, nothing but a bottle. It wasn't fair. He couldn't be in love with him? He hardly knew him. But. What a waste."
So he carried on working and thinking. He was feeling better now, a bit. He was not so angry anyway, just sad. It was sad that such a beautiful, talented, person was throwing his life away.
But, was he? Maybe Jordan was just over-reacting here out of his own fears and prejudices. Not everyone who had a drink was a drunk. Maybe Jason didn't have a problem, he didn't say that he did. How bad could it be? The kid was only fifteen.
But. He was only fifteen and he was drinking, alone and in secret. And he was defensive about it. The signs were not good.
There was only one way to find out - he'd ask him. Tomorrow in school, he'd get him alone somehow and he'd ask him and then he'd know. He had to know. He needed to, he loved him.
"Ah, Fuckit!" he did not.
He carried on working until it got too dark and his mother insisted that he stop it. Down off the roof, he cleaned up, showered, ate, went to bed and cried himself to sleep. What was that about? If this was love - well it sucked, he didn't want it. Maybe he had it anyway.
Next morning he went to school and looked for Jason but didn't see him anywhere. At the morning recess, he searched around, then went and found Sandie and Brenda.
"Hey Girls," he greeted them.
"Stone the crows! Look who's talking," Brenda replied.
"Don't be mean, Brenda. I've been looking for Jason and can't find him anywhere. Is he here?"
"Jason? No," Sandie answered. "He didn't come in today. He was supposed to come to the movies with us last night, but he didn't show there either."
"Maybe he's sick. Didn't you even check? Great friends you lot are. There's no-one there to look after him you know."
"We know that. I did ring him last night but he brushed me off - said he's not in the mood. He said that he's not sick, just not in the mood."
"Oh, okay. Sorry. So why's he not at school today?"
"Dunno. Maybe he's not in the mood for school either. Why don't you ask him?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll do that. Thanks Sandie." He took off, running. They sat and watched him go.
"I meant why don't you phone him? Dork."
"Oh yes," Brenda grinned. "I wasn't sure what was going on with those two, but that boy's got it bad."
"You think?"
"I'm sure of it. Love is in the air, Honey."
Jordan ran straight out of the school, he ran across the town and he didn't stop until he got to the street where Jason lived. Then he stopped to catch his breath. What was he doing here? He'd never run so far or so fast in his life, well except maybe in cross-countries at school. When he got his breathing under control, he walked along the few houses and turned into the McDonalds'.
The house was shut-up and quiet. It looked dark and lonely on the sunny day. He rang the doorbell and waited, nothing happened. He rang it again, and again. Then he stood holding his finger on the button, ringing the bell, and he kept it there until the door, finally, opened.
"Want do you want now?" a grumpy Jason stood there frowning at him.
He was clad only in white satin boxers and his smooth skin was covered in goosebumps in the chilly air. His two-tone hair was disheveled and his eyes were red and puffy. He was beautiful, but he was a mess.
Jordan pushed straight past him and into the house. "There's something I've got to do," he said.
"You said that you weren't coming back here. What do you have to do?" Jason glared at him.
"This."
He cupped a hand behind Jason's head, pulled him forward and kissed him. He stood unresponding until Jordan's arms slipped around him and hugged him. Then he shuddered and he melted. His arms came up around Jordan, he hugged him and he kissed him back.
They kissed long and hard and passionately. Their bodies were pressed together and erections were obvious. Jordan backed off. He grinned and pecked his lips again, briefly.
"I knew it. I love you, Jason McDonald. I never planned on this, but I do. I love you."
"Wow. I thought you hated me now."
"I don't hate you. I hate what you're doing to yourself, but I love you."
"I hate what I'm doing too. I've tried to stop it but I can't. I'm weak and it's all I had - my only escape from my miserable life. Until now."
"Until now?"
"Yes. I think that I love you too. No, I don't think, I love you Jordan Taylor. I really do. Hold me Jordan, please hold me. I need it."
"I've got you." Jordan wrapped his arms around him and held him tight. "You're shivering, Nature Boy. It's cold in here and you've got no clothes on again."
He kissed his bare shoulder. "You're beautiful, but you're cold. Go and put some clothes on."
"I could go back to bed. It's warm in there," Jason grinned and kissed his nose.
"What? And leave me out here in the cold?" Jordan returned the kiss on the nose.
"No. Of course not. Come with me."
"Into your bed? No, I don't think so. Who knows what you've been doing in there."
"I have not! All I've been doing in my bed, for the last twenty-four hours, is lying there crying."
"Crying? Seriously? Why were you crying?"
"Because. Well, because I thought you hated me."
"You cried because of me? I'm sorry, Jason. I never hated you, I was bloody angry because I was scared that you were hurting yourself, but I didn't hate you. Last night, when I went to bed, I cried too."
"You did? Why?"
"Because I thought that you would hate me now."
"Oh, Jordan. I couldn't."
They melted together in another passionate embrace, each trying to tell the other what he was feeling through their locked mouths and bodies. The longer the kiss went on, the more hungry, passionate and urgent it became. Neither wanted to be the one to break apart, but finally they had to. Their mouths slid away while their bodies remained locked together. They stood wrapped around each other, erections pulsing together and heads looking over each other's shoulders as they panted like they'd run ten kilometers together.
"God! I love you," Jordan panted.
"I'm not cold now, I'm hot. Come to bed Jordan."
"No Jason. We're not doing that."
"Why not then? I want you. I want to explore and know all of you. I want you and I know that you want me too - I can feel it." His fingers slid down onto Jordan's crotch, but he gasped and wriggled away.
"Don't", he protested. "Don't do that. I'm not ready."
"Oh yes you are. You're on full alert and ready to roll."
"No I'm not. Don't do that."
"What the hell are you on Jordan?" Jason flared angrily. "You tell me you love me, you get me all fired up, and then you don't want to go there? What are you? A cock-teaser or something? Is that how you get your jollies?"
"No Jason. It's not like that. Look, can't you put some clothes on? And then we'll talk."
"Talk about it? Fuck you! I don't want to talk about it, I want to do it. I want to make love to you."
"Well, we're not. We can't. Please Jason, just get dressed."
"No! I'm not getting dressed. Screw you and your talking. I'm going to bed. You can either come and get in with me, or you can go back to school. Please yourself."
Jason went back to his bedroom and flopped down on the bed. He left the door open and lay there waiting until he heard the front door open and then close quietly.
'He's gone?' He jumped up and went to the window to watch Jordan walk away, but there was no sign of him out there. 'What? Did you go or didn't you?'
He looked back out in the hallway by the front door, but he wasn't there either. 'What the? Did you go back out to the dogs or something?'
He ran back through to the kitchen and looked out the back window. There was nothing happening out there, the dogs were lying, half-asleep, by their kennels. Jordan hadn't gone out that way, the dogs would be all excited if he had. So he went back to the front door, opened it and looked outside.
He was out there, sitting on the concrete floor of the front porch, huddled up in the corner against the side wall. His head was down, his legs drawn up and his face hidden between his knees.
"Jordan? What are you doing?" Jason asked, concerned now.
He shook his head without looking up. "Nothing."
"Nothing? Sure you are. Funny place to do it."
"No. I'm sorry. I'll go now. I just needed a minute."
He went to get up but Jason stooped and put his hands on his shoulders to stop him.
"Don't," he said. "Please don't go, Jordan. Stay here with me, please."
He dropped to his knees in front of him, Jordan raised his face and, yes, it was tear-stained. He was red-eyed and wet-cheeked. He looked so miserable that Jason began to cry as well.
"I don't want to fight with you, Jason. But every time we talk, we do, and it gets worse everytime."
"I know', he wailed. “Jordan, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I don't want to fight. Please don't go, come inside. I'll get dressed and we can do whatever you want."
"Whatever I want?" Jordan grinned. "You may be walking funny by the time we go back to school."
"That's okay," he grinned back. "We can do that if you want to."
"No, I don't want to do that, not really. Well, maybe I do really, but not today, not yet."
"Why not then?"
"Because - this is going to take some time. Let's go inside before you catch your death of cold."
"Yeah. Let's do that. Oh, Damn!"
Jordan followed Jason's gaze out to the street where a dark-blue station wagon was slowly cruising past. The driver, a woman, was staring at them as she passed on by.
The car sped up as it approached and turned the corner. Jason stood and held out a hand to Jordan. "Come on, quick. We've got to get inside - now."
Jordan looked at him, wondering, but he took hold of his hand and pulled himself up. Jason towed him inside and closed the door quickly.
"What's going on? Who was that, Jason, and why did we have to rush inside?"
"She'll be back. Just as soon as she drives around the block, she'll be back for another look. See? Here she comes now."
The car came past again, stopped for a minute in the street outside while the driver studied the house, then drove away around the corner.
"I feel like I'm in a spy-movie or something. Who was that woman?"
"It ain't no movie, but she's spying all right. That was my Aunt Karen, my dad's sister."
"You've got an Aunt Karen? Cool. So have I, my Mum's sister is named Karen. She's really great."
"Lucky you. My Aunt Karen's a bitch. There's nothing she'd like more than to get me into trouble. That's the only reason she comes cruising around here - spying on me. As soon as she gets home she'll be on the phone to my Dad, trying to land me in it."
"But why? We weren't doing anything wrong."
"I know, but she'll make it sound like we were." (Imitating a woman's voice, he continued), "Home from school in the middle of the day, and he was outside, in his underwear, rolling around on the front porch with a strange boy. I'm sure that he should have been in school too."
"I'm not strange."
"Yes you are. You must be strange if you like me."
"Okay then. In that case, I am strange - really, really, strange."
"Yeah!" Jason smiled, a huge sunny grin lit up his face and Jordan felt like he was melting. He'd never known anyone, he'd never seen anyone, so beautiful in all his life.
"God, Jason! There should be a law. You should have to wear a bag over your head."
"What do you mean?" The smile switched off and a worried look came over his face. "I know I'm nothing special, but I'm not that ugly am I?"
"You're not ugly at all, and you are special, very special. Shit Jason, when you smile like that, you're fucking gorgeous! How's an ordinary klutz like me going to hang on to a beautiful boy like you?"
"Flatterer!"
Jason was pleased, very pleased, but embarrassed as well. Red-faced and still holding Jordan's hand, he towed him through to the bedroom where he had to let go while he got dressed.
As his head emerged from his sweat-shirt he looked at Jordan and grinned again. "That's not true, Jordan Taylor. Have you had your eyes checked recently? You're way better looking than I'll ever be."
"Not. Check your eyes yourself. Where are your glasses anyway? I think you need them."
"No I don't. I've got my contacts in and I can see fine. And what I can see IS fine, really fine."
Their hands clasped again and they stood smiling at each other. Life didn't get any better than this.
"You can hold on to me, Jordan. You can hold on to me any way you like, as long as you hold me. I love you and I'm gonna love you forever."
"Forever? That's not good enough. I think I'm going to be around way longer than that."
"I hope so, I really hope so."
"Me too. So, what now?"
"What now? Do we talk about this stuff, or shall we just go to bed and do it?"
"I dunno, Jason. We seem to have a problem here. I'm a thinker but you're a doer - I think. Can't we just drop it for now and spend some time together, doing stuff - being friends?"
"Okay, I guess. I don't know why this is so hard. I want to do it and so do you, don't you? We are going to have sex aren't we?"
"Yeah, we are, I think. But not now, not yet. I just don't feel that it's the right time. I've never done this before and I want to get it right. I really want to make love, not just fuck."
"Yes, well. When you put it like that - we'll do it your way. But just remember, I'm ready whenever you are. Come on out to the kitchen, I need a drink."
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