FJ took the road to his house, head down. He heard behind him Gruff and Fred discuss more easily. The two friends had things in common. They loved sport and all that was physical. FJ felt Fred’s friendship fading away minutes in minutes. Perhaps he would even eventually become a new bullier.

This made the boy think he had nothing to offer to them, or almost. The fridge was empty, empty, at least, of all edible things. There was a small chance that his father has gone to buy food before going to work, but he could not be certain of something.

At worst, FJ could still try to poison them with the eggs, if things really got worse.

He then realized that even that projection of black humor could no longer cheer him up. It went from bad to worse.

« It’s here ? »

Fred looked the somewhat shabby house before which FJ had stopped. Without noticing it, they reached their destination. And Fred, seeing the condition of the house, began to feel some remorse to behave with FJ that way. His new friend had, it seems, not an easy life. Gruff just looked the unpromising state of the house, while mentally noting what could be changed to make it a livable place.

FJ opened the door and entered, followed by his two comrades.

Gruff and Fred came in, looked at each other knowingly. Both obviously thinking the same thing, seeing inside FJ’s home.

The house was far from being well cared for. Apart from the relatively clean floor, nothing was pretty in it. The windows were not been cleaned for months, there was dust everywhere. The living room furniture was mismatched, and a strong smell of feet and stale smoke were smelled inside the house.

FJ knew the condition of the interior, but, being accustomed to live so long in a dirty environment, he didn’t took care of it. What mattered to him was that his father was visibly out. To work, or being boozed again. Gruff put his butt on the couch, and noticed that the seat was in as bad shape that it seemed to be. Three empty beer cans and a half-full bottle of gin were on the small table.

Gruff had never worn consideration for FJ, but for the first time, seeing where he had to live, he began to feel some compassion for him.

Fred felt a little ashamed at the idea of considering an FJ as a next to nothing, even only for a day. He happened to live in worse places than this one, and he knew the value of a hospitable roof above him. He did, however, nothing to change things. He and FJ had an agreement. But Fred vowed, once the deal completed, to consider FJ as a true friend, even if he wouldn’t end under his sheets.

FJ went to the fridge and opened it. No changes to note since the last time.

« So what are you going to cook us, Fatso ? »

Gruff had approached and looked over FJ’s shoulder the contents of the fridge.

« Purple eggs ? Really ?

- They are a little old, I'm afraid.

- But there is nothing else !  You did not intend us to eat those, right ?

- No, of course... My father... has not had time to go shopping. It must remain cans in the cellar. » 

Fred, who rested a picture frame covered with dust, still felt more remorse. He noted that the room layout was exactly the same as that of his new house, and he was the closest to the cellar’s stairs. He was not really surprised. The neighborhood was full of cheap houses, built with the same print.

« I'll go see what there is. There is also something to drink here ?

- I... Yes, Dad keeps his beer in the cellar.

- I’ll take some too then. »

Fred went down into the cellar.

Gruff returned to the sofa.

« Whatever goes up, I hope it will be good !

- Why it would matter ? With all the cocks you suck, you no longer have the sense of taste. »

FJ was standing at the sink, trying to find some clean forks, when he made the replica he instantly regretted to have leaked out of his thoughts. He stopped moving immediately, shocked himself by what he said.

Gruff felt his jaw dropped to the ground. He could not believe what FJ had just told him. His thoughts tried a few moments to decipher the sentence again, thinking he had misheard, misunderstood. But Gruff had an excellent hearing. FJ had to call him a fag, a bitch, even.

FJ was still frozen in front of the sink, the mind froze. What had he said ? And loud ! FJ had thought the sentence, yes, but he did not intended to pronounce it. Or in private, not in the presence of the target ! Probably a perverse effect of what he had smoked. But the fact was there. FJ did not need to turn around to know that Gruff was in turmoil. He forced himself to turn around, to face him. And he was sorry to have done, seeing Gruff’s rage.

He was standing, had bypassed the sofa, but still remained in the living room. FJ saw perfectly every muscle tense by anger.

« DON’T CALL ME LIKE THAT ! YOU DO NOT KNOW WHAT... »

Gruff breathed deeply, deeply, growling towards FJ.

« FUCK, I'M GONNA KILL YOU, FUCKING ASSHOLE ! »

Gruff started walking quickly towards FJ, who could not leave the kitchen.

« I... »

FJ had never been so scared in all his life. Gruff was stronger, faster, more determined than he would ever be. And he came to him to give him a bad time. And perhaps to really kill him. FJ was still struggling to achieve what he had said. He saw, however, that the emergency was to get out of trouble in which he put himself.

But how ? Run away was impossible. Gruff was already in the doorway. He went so fast that FJ was certain that even the service door on his right was out of reach. FJ was scared. His only chance to escape, now, was to calm Gruff. But he did not know how. While Gruff approached more and more, FJ lost all ability to concentrate and think. Gruff was now almost within reach. FJ's brain was unable to leave his logical loop.

« Calm him. »

Nothing else came in FJ’s mind. He eventually react instinctively. Gruff already cocked his right fist when FJ, in a desperate attempt to ease the tension, to ask his forgiveness for the clumsy phrase he had uttered, gripped Gruff’s trunk in his arms, his head being received under the left cheek of the latter. He wanted to utter the right words but his fear was so strong that it prevented any sound to come out of his throat.

Eyes closed, he waited for the first strike, convinced that this was not enough.

What appeared to be long minutes passed, and FJ realized that Gruff had not struck. Not yet, at least. He opened his eyes and carefully looked at Gruff.

The latter was paralyzed. His arm was still raised, fists facing FJ’s cheek. The movement of the latter had caught him, but it was not the only thing that had frozen his body.

Gruff was... He...

Gruff was breathless. He dared not move, fearing to fall apart. It was what he felt. Being in FJ’s arms... Pleased him. There was no other words. He did not knew what to say, what to think, what to do. His favorite prey had insulted him, he did not knew why. He wanted to beat him up, to show him his place, to make him understand that he owed him respect, he was stronger than he and more than all the others, he had to follow the right way in his presence.

And FJ hugged him. And Gruff loved it. From the moment his body had embraced, Gruff knew he wanted it too. FJ’s topless chest was warm, soft to the touch, and a firmer ride than he had imagined. Gruff felt his hands behind his back, and he wanted one thing. To remove his shirt to feel them on his bare skin.

Any resentment, anger, Gruff had disappeared. And the slightly musky donkey’s smell only increased his pleasure, his desire.

When their eyes met at last, Gruff stepped back somewhat to extricate himself from the embrace, somewhat frightened by what had happened. FJ also stepped back, putting his arms to his sides, not knowing what to say or do.

Gruff noted the presence of the service door and opened it. Without a word, he took refuge in the garden, closing the door behind him.

FJ passed his hand over his face, to wipe his sweat, and evacuate the rest of the fear that he still felt. His gesture had an even greater impact than expected. In return, FJ regretted having had to stop the hug, because once he had realized that Gruff did not stroke him, he began to truly appreciate the posture. He remembered Gruff’s frightened look when he closed the door. FJ walked to the door and went into the garden.

Gruff was standing in the middle of the grass, a little taken aback. He had hoped that fresh air would make him feel good. He had hoped an outcome but the garden, unlike his, was completely closed. What had happened did not left his mind for a moment. He did not knew what to think. In reality, though, a part of himself was unwilling to go further in its thinking. It would changed so many things, about his vision of himself, on the implications this would have on his family if he finally admitted he was...

Gruff shook his head, eyes closed. He was not. He could not be. He could not accept such an assumption, especially with FJ in the equation ! It should be... an error. Or kickback. From his last hangover, the previous Saturday. Yes, that was probably it.

He smiled sadly. Even he could not convince himself of such an excuse.

« Gruff... » 

The young rott then noted the presence of FJ right behind him. He saw, turning his head, than he tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but he had stopped his gesture halfway, not knowing if he had some form of permission to touch.

« Leave me alone, asshole. I... I'm not in the mood for that. »

FJ put his arm down, not knowing what to say or do.

Gruff looked down. His aggression more quickly dissipated than it should.

« I... Leave me alone, okay ? You’d won. »

FJ looked a little surprised.

« Won ? What do you mean ? I did not wan...

- Shut up, moron ! You got what you wanted, right ? »

Gruff tried to be more aggressive than usual, but FJ did not seemed to be impressed. He felt he could no longer express his anger. Gruff paused and realized he could no longer impose his bitterness to anyone, except himself. That was why FJ did not seemed to react like he used to. However, he tried to regain his usual ascendancy.

«... I just need to get some air, then go away ! »

It failed. Instead, he felt he was more defensive.

« I was not looking for anything with you, Gruff. I just feel that you are upset... I do not know why. I hate to see you scared that way, if you want, you can co... »

Gruff waved his hand to decline the offer.

« I want nothing from you, nothing like that, I just wanna... I just wanna be alone for now, ok ? Please... »

FJ knew then that Gruff did not go well at all. Of all the five years that he knew him, he had never been polite with him. And hear him say "please" was something surreal, even scary.

« I'm not sure that you get something being alone, Gruff. »

The latter looked at the FJ with surprise in his eyes. He was his patented troublemaker for years, and at the first sign of weakness on his part, FJ behaved like... Not as a friend, no, but as somebody who cared for him. Gruff began to feel miserable.

« You are not going well, even I am able to see it.

- I've told you, FJ, you can do nothing for me, ok ? »

Gruff began to rise his tone, but his eyes filled with tears annihilated all his attempts to get tough. This did not escaped to FJ which frankly put his hand on his shoulder. Gruff sighed, feeling the hand. He turned then and gripped FJ in his arms, his head on his shoulder. FJ returned the gesture, a little embarrassed by the contents of Gruff’s pants pocket, who was putting pressure on his groin. Both boys were silent, Gruff sometimes leaving out a sigh, a mixture of anger and satisfaction.

FJ appreciated the hug, smiling as he felt the powerful torso against his. Gruff's pocket really bothered him, however, Gruff’s keys being in a wrong position. He would not spoil this moment with a remark, he quietly moved his hand to move the contents of the bag.

Placing his hand on Gruff’s pants, FJ understood immediately what was in his pocket was not a key. The cylindrical shape was suggestive, and FJ abruptly withdrew his hand, hoping that Gruff did not noticed anything, or almost.

Gruff broke the embrace and stepped back.

« Look, I... I'm a little sick, that is all. There is no need to look further, you know. I... Please do not tell anyone, okay ? I promise you... not to bully you anymore but please do not say anything... »

Gruff's voice rose a little in the acute, sign of his great emotion.

FJ, far from being a fool, understood perfectly what was happening. He also understood why Gruff was this way. It was not for him to decide what was best for him, but FJ felt it was his duty to help him understand, to break the lie. FJ quick thought to the irony of the situation. He took Gruff’s hand on his.

Gruff looked, amorphous, at FJ’s hand. FJ walked over and placed his lips on his.

Gruff did not reacted more, feeling the boy's mouth on his. He noted just the warmth, softness, slightly coppery taste of his lips. Gruff did not moved over when FJ embraced more openly. By reflex, he closed his eyes and returned the kiss. An intense wave of pleasure flooded his body then. It was so intense that Gruff’s spirit began to break, cracking the wall he had built over months and years around his true nature.

Gruff released the embrace and FJ looked a little surprised, as happy as ashamed of his bold gesture.

« I'm sorry, Gruff, I do not know what got into me... »

Gruff took the opportunity to retreat.

« Shut up, moron. I... How could you do this to me ? » 

Gruff turned into tears.

« I do... Jesus, help me... I can not be that ! It is not possible, not me ! »

FJ returned to him again and put his hand on his shoulder.

« Gruff, I'm sorry. I... will not tell anyone, I promise. But... Clearly you need help. I... I do not know what can do for you, but I will. »

Gruff sighed, looking down.

« It's okay. If I... If I have to... I’ll call you. »

He began to move toward the door to return to the kitchen, but he stopped after walking a few steps.

« I can not go home like that... »

Gruff was looking down, he turned. FJ noted than Gruff’s pants had a big wet spot on them.

« I... I need another pair of pants, I think. »