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Choir Boy

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Short chapter... sorry 'bout that! But I hope you enjoy it and I'll post chapter 6 soon!


Chapter 5




'Holy shit' is right! Jesus! I admit, guys have blacked out on me with orgasms more intense than they'd experienced before; normally, I find it actually flattering - the first time it happened, after I finally found out what had happened to the trick, I'd gone from totally freaked out to outrageously smug. After that, it was almost (but not quite) a regular occurrence. But with Justin just now, I was back to totally freaked out. "Are you sure you're alright?" I ask him again, trying to squelch any trace of concern from my voice.


"Hmmm. Yeah. Yeah, Jesus… my God…" he mutters, shaking his head a little. His hair is drenched from sweat, his skin glowing, flushed and shiny, absolutely gorgeous; he's still breathing kind of hard. It looks like he just collapsed after a marathon.


"You've seen the Light, it would seem," I tease lamely, still a little scared.


He turns his gaze to me and I suck in a breath; there's such intensity - a fiery and icy and virtually electric intensity to his blue-violet eyes that I swear he's able to see through my skull into my brain. He's silent a minute or so and I start to feel a little uncomfortable with his unabashed scrutiny. "I think so," he whispers finally in all seriousness and my level of 'freaked-ness' jumps to 'RUN AWAY!!'


I look away, feeling all my muscles tense like a cornered cat; he has to get out of here NOW.


"Daddy?" I hear from the little bed near the bathroom. "Daddy?"


Gus! I'm up with sweats on within a millisecond and I'm next to him in an instant, my "go-fast" mode already in overdrive. "Sonny Boy, what is it? What's wrong? How do you feel?" I stroke his forehead as soothingly as a Kinney can; I notice he's sweaty too, like Sunshine and I but it's because his fever's breaking. I sit by him and brush the dark, sweaty locks of hair from his forehead.


He swallows hard; his lips are dry and I get the water from the table next to his bed. "Hot. Cold. Achy. Sweaty. Yucky," he whimpers, pouting a little for effect.


I snicker a little. He's okay. Definitely just the flu so in the back of my over-reactive, father-paranoid mind, I feel I can safely cross off 'meningitis', 'polio' and 'malaria'. "Sounds like you're all over the map, Gus Love. But you'll be fine. Here, have some water."


He takes the glass in both small hands and clumsily drinks; much of it spills back onto the pillow behind his head just like it did a moment ago with Justin. Sigh. "'S Justin still here?" he asks hoarsely.




"Is he spending the night?"


"I dunno. I don't think so. He has to go home 'cause James is there."



Huh. "No. Of course not."


"Then why does Justin have to go—?" he's interrupted by a shuffling behind us and we both turn to see Justin standing a little ways away, fully dressed, hair still damp with sweat but combed and a rosy blush to his cheeks which is from embarrassed unease this time, not blissed-out, post-faint inertia. "Justin!" Gus squeals with a crack in his voice. He's definitely on the mend, 'hot, cold, achy, sweaty, yucky' aside.


"Hiya, sickie! You sound better!" Yeah, I definitely would have liked to have Justin as a friend. Oh, well.


"I am! Much! But I'm hot…"


"Sounds like maybe your fever is breaking," Sunshine offers. I smile a little, looking away.




"Yeah. It just means it's going away but when it does that, it makes you kinda sweaty and hot. It's a good thing, though."


"Oh. 'Kay," my son says with a slight shrug, blindly accepting Justin's explanation without question.


"Okay boys, I'm going back to bed. I'm exhausted," I yawn. Justin looks at me hopefully. I sigh. "You can stay till morning if you think Ted's going to stay with James all night." He practically jumps in place and claps his hands like Emmett would. Thankfully, as I said, he only practically has a flaming moment; he restrains himself and he just jumps a little in excitement, whispering "yes", then he beams at me beautifully. "Who is this Ted guy, anyway?" I ask, curious and trying to ignore his bizarre glee. As I said before, it can't be the same Ted I know. And employ.


He calms a little. "He's my neighbor. I told you that. Why?"





Many thanks (as before) to BigJ/Judy and butterflytiger_1982/Jessica