His Seduction

If you are joining us for the first time, please read the first three as you will understand it better that way. ~grin~ Sorry about the wait, everyone! My computer decided to be ever so nice and crash on me. Had to save up for a new one. Somehow, the idea of using a computer at the public library to write this next chapter, while some poor child is anxiously awaiting their turn for the computer so they may look up the needed materials for their book report, didn't seem very . . . Let's just say I wasn't keen on the idea, okay? Not exactly an environment conducive to creativity in this degree.

And please excuse the spelling mistakes. I try to fix them, but I still miss them here and there. ~shrug~ I'm human, what can I say?

I have to admit, I have really enjoyed knowing that you guys like my story. It warms my heart, and I must admit, builds my ego a tiny bit. Exactly what a writer needs. Thanks!

Well, here it is, chapter four. Please enjoy! ~smile~

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The ride back to the house was strained with silence. Keith stared bleakly out the window at the cars going by, rain beating on the window. He hadn't meant to lose his composure. His father did this to him almost every year and not necessarily because of a woman. He just didn't like having his son around to remind him of his dead wife. It still hurt him, though, to realize how much his father really hated him.

Life sucked.

Mike sat across from him, he could feel his eyes on him, but he just didn't have the strength to talk about what his friend had witnessed. Mike just didn't understand that this was what life had been like for years. True, some years were better, some were worse, but they all sucked. Keith had been an outsider to his own family since he was eleven years old. It was cold and lonely, but he was used to it.

When the limo pulled up to the house, Keith bolted from the car before the driver even had a chance to come around for the door. Mike was hot on his heels.

"Keith, wait up."

Keith turned on him so suddenly, Mike took a step back. "I don't want to talk about it, Mike. I really don't. Please just let it go, okay?"

"I'd love to, but ignoring it won't make it go away."

"And facing it won't make my father love me. It won't make him like me, be kind to me, want me around, or even respect me, so why bother?" Keith could feel the anger building up inside him. Pushing his wet hair out of his face, he glared at Mike. It wasn't Mike's fault his life was shit, but he was there. "What the Hell is the point, huh? Why should I face it? It will always be there in the back round. No matter where I go, I'll always be the rich kid no one wanted! I'm not good at anything I was supposed to be good at; even if I was it wouldn't please him! Don't you get it, Mike? Something is fucked up in me just enough that even my own father could give a fucking shit if I just curled up and died! So tell me, Mike, what the fuck is facing it all supposed to do? Huh?"

Mike moved forward and grabbed Keith by the shirt and slammed him up against a tree, the rain beating down around them. Anger at Keith's father and the way he'd raised Keith boiled in him. But it was his anger at Keith thinking so lowly about himself stabbed through him like a double edged sword. "Maybe facing it would teach you a little respect in yourself for once. Maybe facing it will teach you that you are more than what your fucking father sees! That people want you, that you are not alone and you don't have to be alone! Just maybe you could learn to let people in and stop being so afraid that everyone is going to hurt you."

"People hurt me all the time, Mike. It's a hard lesson, but one I've learned rather well. You let people get too close to you and they will hurt you in the end, weather they intend to or not." Keith shook his head angrily. "Tell me, what exactly do I have to respect, huh? I'm a fuck-up and a coward. I admit it! The only thing I'm really good at is reading books and painting. Both of which are escapes. I can't even bare to face reality for to long without the fear of completely losing my mind. Yeah, real respect worthy. This from the jock everyone loves, who could do no wrong." Keith let his head fall down as a bitter laugh full of self loathing escaped his lips. "Do you know what it's like, Mike? Do you have any idea what it's like to have people see you and only see your father and wonder how they can use you? Or to have everyone expect things of you that you can't possibly achieve, and have them waiting to watch you fail? Do you know what it's like to hold a blade over your wrists and struggle to find one damn reason why you shouldn't put just a little pressure on the blade and make all the pain go away?"

Mike could feel Keith's pain radiating around them like a cloud. Keith's body began to shake as sobs tried to fight their way to the surface. "Jesus, Keith."

"Its okay, Mike, I'm used to it, I really am. It doesn't hurt so much when I forget about it. Let me forget, okay?" Keith wiped his wet sleeve over his face, trying to wipe away the tears that had started falling again. "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say all that. Sorry."

"No, don't be sorry."

Keith looked up at Mike with a sad smile. "I wish you hadn't seen me like this. You are the one person I never wanted to think of me as weak."

"Fuck, Keith!" Mike grabbed Keith's hair and pulled him into a kiss full of wanting and promise. Keith tried to pull away, then moaned low in his throat, a sound of surrender, his hands gripping the tree behind him for support.

Mike pulled back, his eyes angry. "You really are fucked-up, aren't you?" Keith's eyes fell way with shame. "No, no, don't clam up on me, now. You've had your say, now I'll have mine. Your dick of a father may have fucked you up pretty good, but your strength has brought you this far and made you who you were. Under all the crap he has given you over the years, you never broke. You didn't push that blade in, you didn't give in, remember that. You're stronger than you think you are. Hell, without his prodding and dickieness, I might never have met the Keith that is you today. Remind me to thank him."

Keith laughed. It was a beautiful sound.

"You can fall apart on me anytime you want, okay? I will never think you are weak because of it, never. Don't insult me by thinking that I might. As for being a coward, it was no coward that kneed me a week ago."

Keith blushed and tried to hide his smile. "You were being an ass! You kissed me, what was I supposed to do? Just let you do it?"

"You didn't seem to mind it a moment ago." Keith blushed even redder, realizing Mike was right. "Face it, tough guy. I plan on seducing you every chance I get and until I get you to admit that you want me just as badly as I want you, I'm going to take liberties that will make you blush down to your toes. And there is nothing you can do about it to stop me."

Keith worked his mouth a couple of times before sound came out. "Mike, I, um, you're my best friend. I couldn't imagine my life without you, I mean you get me through, you always have. Last night was," Keith looked away for a moment before bringing his eyes back to Mike. "Last night was great, but we're both guys, and . . . And . . . ."

"And it feels great. Just enjoy it and let it go wherever it's going to go, Keith. Don't try to fight it, don't try and make excuses." Mike kissed the end of Keith's nose. "I know you better than anyone. You can run, but you can't hide. Not from me."

Flustered barely described what Keith was feeling at that moment. But it felt better than what he had been feeling a moment ago. Only Mike seemed to be able to make him forget his troubles so quickly.

Keith smiled and tapped at Mike's hand that still clutched his shirt. "Um, do you plan on letting me go sometime soon, or are we going to stay out here and drown?"

Mike's smile was slow and predatory. "I kind of like you just where I've got you, to tell you the truth."

"But, but-" Keith started to stutter.

Mike's other hand grabbed the back of Keith's neck and pulled him into another kiss, this one slower and softer. It was the kind of kiss that seduced even the most reluctant of recipients. Mike leaned in against Keith, pressing him farther into the tree. Satisfied with the state of arousal Keith was in, Mike pushed away and let him go. It left Keith breathless, wanting more and harder than Hell. Even his head wasn't sure he should argue this attraction anymore.

"You know, maybe we should get inside. Wouldn't want to catch a cold out here, you know?" Without waiting for Keith to respond, he turned on his heel and went into the house, leaving Keith speechless in the rain.

Keith watched Mike disappear into the house with a feeling of disappointment that he didn't really understand. Shaking his head, he pushed away from the tree, turning his face up into the rain. "That was just mean."

With a smile, he walked into the house.

* * * * *

Keith rose from the bed with his head pounding. The night was all but forgotten in his mind. He was still sorry he'd had an emotional breakdown in front of Mike, but there was no hope for it now. If there was one thing that he had learned over the years it was that you couldn't change what had already happened. You just had to make the best of it. Or be really good at denial.

With a stiff stretch, Keith eased back his covers and placed his bare feet on the floor with a shiver.

Last night they had found Jason in the middle of a Lethal Weapon fest and had joined in. Mike grabbed a couple of towels and, tossing one at Keith, plopped down on the couch, wet cloths and all. Jason raised an eyebrow at his dripping clothes now soaking into the couch, then shrugged and passed over the popcorn.

Keith shook his head with a smile. The good thing about youth was you could be stupid and just not care about it. It was good to be young. Kicking off his soggy shoes, and drying off his hair, Keith flopped down next to Mike. Stealing a handful of the popcorn, he settled into a night of relaxation with his two best friends.

Now that morning was here, he knew he should have been a little smarter about last night. His aching body and pounding head told him he really should have changed into something drier right away instead of hanging out in wet clothes waiting for them to dry by themselves.

Grabbing some jeans from the floor and tugging them on, Keith shuffled into the bathroom and raided the cabinet for aspirin. The mirror showed a horribly pale and disheveled evil twin he hadn't been aware he'd had.

Oh yeah. This day was looking up already.

Hearing the groan of what sounded to be a dying animal, Keith quickly swallowed his aspirin and shuffled down the hall to Mike's room. Knocking softly on the door, he called out. "Mike?"

Another groan. Whatever it was, it was dying a horribly agonizing death of the slowest proportions.

Pushing the door open he looked in. There on the bed was a massive lump of blankets and what appeared to be an eyeball peaking out of a small opening near the foot of the bed.

A giggle struggled for freedom. "Mike?"

The eyeball evolved into a pale and angry looking face. The voice that erupted was something resembling a frog. "Sure, just laugh at me. You're cruel, you know that?"

Jason appeared at Keith's shoulder. "What's the entire racket?"

Keith looked at Jason, his face one of somber understanding. "I believe he's dying. No, don't look, he could be contagious. I'd hate to see you parish in such a pathetic way."

"Hey!" Mike sat up on his bed indignantly, his blanket still firmly placed around his head and body. "I'm not pathetic, I'm sick, you little twerp!" He punctuated this with a well placed cough.

"Little twerp am I?" Keith marched into the room.

Mike held his blanked closer around himself and glared at Keith. This was all his fault anyway. "Yeah, you are."

Keith placed his hand on Mike's head and sighed. "Well, it does not fell like you have much of a fever, but your throat is swollen."

Mike pulled his head back and wailed at Jason. "Make the brute leave! It's his fault for keeping me out in the rain and forcing me to stay in cold wet clothes for hours on end!"

"Alright, you big brute you, why don't you go get our patient some medicine while I call his classes and let them know he wont be in," Jason said while steering Keith out of the room. "While I'm at it, I'll give yours a call, too."

"Why mine?"

"Because you are going to be taking care of the patient. I can't stand being near sick people, grosses me out," Jason said with a smile. Shaking his head he said, "Plus, my classes are much too important to miss."

Keith sighed. "Fine."

As soon as he had left, Jason walked back into Mike's room and leaned against the doorframe. "You are the biggest wuss in the history of man, you know that don't you."

Mike glared at him, before tilting his head up and away snootily. "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, yes you do. You've got a bit of a cough, some sniffles and a slight fever and you're acting as though you're on your death bed." Jason shook his head. "Face it man, you're a wuss."

Mike grinned at him. "That maybe true. But I'm a wuss that is going to get pampered."

"You bastard," Jason laughed. "Jeeze, you almost sound as though you are trying to seduce our poor innocent Keith!" Jason laughed again, but the laugh died in his throat when he saw the gleam in Mike's eye. "No way. You're kidding right?"

"Actually, I think I'm making great progress. It's thanks to me, by the way, that he's not as innocent as he was."

Jason closed his eyes and shook his head. "You two? I never would have guess! Damn." The completely bewildered look was almost comical. "But I thought you . . . . Are you bi? Is that what you are? Yeah, I guess I should have known, but you don't seem girly at all man."

"Jason, just because I like guys, doesn't mean I become a girl, you ass."

"Damn. Wow. Keith? Damn." As shocked as Jason was, Mike could tell his friend was just going to take it all in stride and wish them both the best. It was that easy acceptance that Mike had always liked best about Jason. He accepted everyone no matter what. Suddenly a wicked light came to Jason's eyes. "So you were the one to make our little man moan all night. Damn, if I didn't love women so much, I'd be half tempted to find out how good you really are myself! Shit!"

Mike laughed and threw a pillow at him.

Jason caught it and began to sober. "Hey, I ask just one thing, man."

"What's that?"

"Be good to our little pup. I'm rather fond of him, and I would hate to kick your ass if you hurt him."

Mike could swear his heart grew ten sizes right then. Jason had been his friend for more years than he could remember and to know that Keith had won him over without even trying in the last year and a half warmed his heart. "I will be, don't worry."

"Okay then." Jason sighed and straightened, throwing the pillow back at Mike. "You just stay here and pretend to be dying while I go fix some tea, okay? Keith should be back with some medicine soon, but I don't want you two rough housing or anything thing until your better."

"Yes, Mother."

"Don't get smart with me. If you get me sick, I'll kick your ass so hard you'll be rimming yourself."

* * * * *

It was still drizzling outside, just enough to be chilly. It still wasn't cold enough for the rain to turn to snow, but it was cold enough to soak into your bones and stay there. The jean jacket Keith had thrown on wasn't keeping any of it out, either. Instead, it seemed to hold the dampness and cold to him making him shiver.

By the time he got back to the house, his hands and feet were pruned with the wet and he felt as though he would never be warm again. It was a truly horrible feeling. He was just glad he had not had to go very far, as the campus had its own little Seven Eleven.

"Jesus, Keith!" Jason pulled him father into the house, grabbing the throw off the back of the couch and rubbing Keith's hair with it. "Why the hell didn't you take the umbrella?"

"Because you gave it to your last date. It was raining and you didn't want to walk her home, remember?"

"Oh, yeah." Jason stared off into the distance remembering that night. With a shrug, he left the blanket on Keith's head and started shoving Keith towards the stairs. "Go on up and sit with the sicky. He's got some tea up there already and I'm working on some canned soup for the both of you."

"I'm fine, really. I'm not very hungry."

Jason pinned him with a look any mother would be proud of. "I don't recall asking you if you were hungry. Now move; I'll be up in a minute."

Keith sighed. When Jason got into his mothering moods, such a contrast to his easy going slacker moods, there was no winning with him. "Alright."

With a sneeze, Keith started up the stairs. Walking into his room, he was halfway tempted to just flop down onto his bed and stay there for the next ten hours, but knowing Mike, he would bellow like a sick child until he came and took care of him. With a low groan of his own, he stumbled to his closet and took out some dry clothes and quickly changed into them. Popping some Tylenol for his splitting headache, Keith grabbed his bag of meds and heading into Mike's room.

"Okay, big boy, sit up," Keith said as he walked into the room, opening the bag of medicine. "Take two of these and a tablespoon of this right now and we will repeat in four hours."

Mike sat up on the bed where he had flopped down on his stomach to watch midmorning soap operas. He was sad to see why most women got addicted to the damn things. The plot you ask? Not really, though that is a bit of a teaser. The real reason women found themselves watching the crap? Damn the guys were fine. And they weren't push over guys, either. They were the kind of guys that knew what they wanted and took it, no questions ask.

He pondered the idea of taking notes on some things to try out on Keith, and then decided he liked winging it better.

Dubiously looking at the medicine Keith was setting out on the nightstand next to his newly placed Kleenex, Mike let out a groan. "Did you have to get that flavor?"

Keith finished pouring the vial liquid and handed it to Mike. "If you take it like a shot, you shouldn't taste much of it at all."

Mike glared at him. Taking the pills first, he then glared at the icky red liquid.

"Just take it, you big baby," Jason laughed as he came into the room with two bowls of soup, setting them on Mike's rarely used desk.

As quickly as he could, Mike downed the medicine. With a gag and a hiss, he stuck out is tongue as though the farther it got from his mouth, the less he would taste it. It didn't work.

"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"

Jason wrapped an arm around Keith's shoulders. "This little guy? Kill you? Never. He's too good for that."

Keith laughed and sat down onto the bed next to Mike.

Jason rubbed his hands together and began backing towards the door. "Okay, you've got your medicine, your Kleenex, your tea, and your soup. The only reason either of you should have for leaving this room is to pee and then its right back into bed with you."

Keith started to rise from the bed, "But, Jason, I'm not -"

Jason cut him off. "No, no. I don't want to hear it. Now I'm off to class. Take care of each other while I'm gone. And don't breath on any of my stuff; I don't want any of your germs."

With that, Jason was gone.

"So . . . . It looks like I get my very own nurse, huh?" Mike said an evil looking grin.

Keith threw the pillow at him. "Forget it, pal."

Mike grabbed his arm and pulled him back when Keith tried to leave. "But I'm sick and defenseless!" With a yank, Keith was sprawled on the bed.