The Amnesiac

This story was written before Christmas, right after I wrote Desire. I am just now getting around to posting it. I hope ou guys enjoy Devin and Patrick. They were fun to write.

Note: This is a fictional story with fictional characters. Any similarities to a real life situation and/or real people is purely coincidental. Since I have no editor (I haven't gotten around to looking for one yet), I will apologize now for any and all mistakes in spelling and puncuation, and any other mistakes I may have made.

Enjoy,

Soulless

*****

The Amnesiac

Chapter Two

Patrick watched Devin to see how he'd react to his confession. Devin just stared at him for a moment, then re-situated himself on the bed so that he was next to Patrick, laying the right way. He pressed the button to make the top go up until the bed was shaped more like a lawn chair. Devin leaned back, then put his hands on Patrick's shoulders to move him, but waited for permission. Patrick hesitated, then nodded very slightly. Devin gently pushed Patrick down, until Patrick's head rested in Devin's lap. Patrick rather liked using his lap as a pillow. He curled up, tucking his knees up to his chest, lightly rubbing his cheek against Devin's crotch like a pillow. Devin hissed out a breath and Patrick felt a bulge under his cheek. He flushed, mumbling an apology.

"Who raped you, Patrick?"

"My f-father."

"Your father raped you?"

"And his friend."

"Your father and his friend raped you?"

Patrick nodded, which made his cheek rub against the bulge, which made Devin suck in a breath. A chain reaction. Interesting. Patrick mentally shook his head, clearing it. "Sorry," he said.

"No problem, just as long as you realize that as much as you move against it, I'm only going to get harder."

"Okay."

"Now, back to our conversation. You said your father and his friend raped you, right?"

"Yes. When I was five. In front of my mom."

"In front of-? And she didn't try to stop them?"

"She couldn't have stopped them any more than a mannequin could," Patrick stated quietly.

"Why no- Oh, shit. You don't mean she was- They raped you in front of your mother's corpse!? When you were five!?"

"Yeah. I remember that day.... Dad was trying to get me to suck him off again. Mom was at work.. We were in the living room.."

"I don't want to, Daddy."

"Shut up and get on your knees."

"But Dadd-"

Stan shoved Patrick down onto his knees. When the five-year-old tried to get back up, Stan held him down with his hands on the boy's shoulders. When he stopped struggling, Stan smirked down at him, and Patrick could see none of the love in Stan's gray eyes that he saw in his mother's every day. He only saw anger and hatred, and that scared him. As far as he knew, he'd never done anything bad enough to make him mad. Well, except for stuff like right now, when Daddy wanted him to do nasty stuff. His momma always told him to not let anybody touch him in private places, like his penis and his butt and his nipples. Not even her or his father were allowed to touch there now that he was old enough to take a bath by himself. His father was old enough to take a bath by himself, too, so why did Patrick have to touch him?

Every time Patrick asked his father, he'd say, "This is what every father should do. Every little boy needs to know how to suck a dick real good. He also needs to know how to take a huge cock in his ass and enjoy it. But most of all, every little boy needs to know how to make his daddy happy. My own father always said I was pro at keeping him happy. You're falling behind, boy."

Stan stood in front of Patrick, Patrick's small body trembling, his heart thudding in his chest. His father was just reaching for him when a noise from the doorway made him freeze. Patrick had tears streaming down his cheeks now, but when he looked up and saw his momma in the doorway, he scrambled up and ran to her, clinging to her legs. He buried his face in her legs and started sobbing.

"What the hell are you doing, Stanley?"

"I'm teaching fucking kid a lesson in pleasuring his old man."

"If you don't leave this house right now, I'll see you in prison."

"Really? And how are you going to do that?"

"By calling the police, you dipshit. Now leave."

"Kind of hard for a dead woman to call anybody."

Patrick looked up at his mother, about to ask her what 'dead' meant, but he saw all the color drain from her face.

"Patrick, baby, go run to the neighbor's house and ask them to call 911."

"Why, Momma? What's '911'?"

"Baby, please just do as I tell you. Go next door to Miss Abby's house and tell her to call 911. Tell her I need help."

"But-"

"Go!"

"He's not going anywhere," a menacing voice said behind them. His mother spun around, as did Patrick. His father's friend, Kyle, stood there, a big, shiny knife in one had. His mother tried to shove Patrick past Kyle, but Kyle's reflexes were fast; he stabbed Patrick's mom, left the blade in, and turned and grabbed Patrick, all without breaking stride. Patrick struggled, screaming. His long hair fell in his face, but he didn't care. He kept screaming and struggling to get down. His saw his mother fall to the ground, eyes blank and shiny. Kyle's hand slammed down on Patrick's mouth, and Patrick bit him. Kyle cursed and yanked his hand back. Patrick immediately started screaming again, but Kyle moved into the house and slammed the door shut.

Kyle threw Patrick onto the couch, which startled Patrick into silence. He landed on the couch with a muffled "Oomph." His father walked over, an evil light in his eyes. Kyle flopped down onto the couch next to Patrick and grabbed him. Patrick tried to crawl away, but Kyle grabbed him and pulled him onto his lap. Patrick's heart was tripping over itself, he was so scared. He screamed again.

"...Patrick?"

His vision blurred, and he felt faint.

"Patrick! Wake up!"

Patrick's eyes snapped open and he scrambled up, away from Devin, and almost fell off the bed. Devin's hand on his arm kept him from falling.

"Patrick? What happened? You fell asleep, then you wouldn't wake up... And you were whimpering and crying and struggling... You had another nightmare, didn't you?"

Patrick swallowed once, twice, then cleared his throat. "Yeah.. About that night..."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"We were in the living room.. Dad wasn't wearing any clothes. He forced me to my knees and told me to suck him like I would a sucker. I was so scared, I couldn't refuse. Then Mom came home early, right before I could touch Dad, and I ran to her. I knew she'd-she'd save-me." The last part was almost unintelligible, he was so choked up.

Devin gently pulled Patrick closer, wrapping his arms around him. "Just take it slow, okay?"

Patrick nodded. He took a deep, steadying breath, then nodded. He was determined to explain it to Devin. He earned it. "Momma told me to run to the neighbor's house and have Miss Abby call 911. I wanted to stay with her, so I stalled. Then it was too late, because Kyle, my dad's friend, arrived. He stabbed my mom, and grabbed me before I could run. I screamed, but he just dragged me into the house. He stripped me, then Dad took me into his and Mom's bedroom. He ordered me onto my hands and knees on the bed, and I was so tired by then, I just complied. Then Kyle put Mom on the bed, her face, her blank gaze watching me. Then Kyle taped my father raping me. I screamed and screamed, but nobody came. I screamed myself hoarse, but nobody saved me. Not until Dad tore me up, made me bleed. Not until Kyle took me right after my dad, without letting me have even a minute to breathe. Not for five days. My mother's body started rotting, slowly, and stinking."

"How did it end?" Devin asked softly.

"They knew I knew where they kept the video camera, and the tapes, and yet they left them within my reach. I was never allowed to bathe, so I was walking evidence. One day, my dad went out and left me with Kyle. Kyle thought I was sleeping, so he thought it was safe to use the restroom. As soon as the bathroom door was shut, I got up, grabbed the camera and all the tapes. I took my mom's locket from her neck, put it around mine, and left. I ran to Miss Abby's house next door. I banged on the door, and when she saw me, she quickly ushered me inside and gave me a blanket to cover myself with. Ten minutes later, there was an ambulance and police at my house and hers. They arrested Kyle right away, but my dad... They had to find him. They finally did. A year later when somebody recognized his face from the news and called it in. They wouldn't let me bathe all that crap off until the medics had seen to me, taken samples of the blood and semen.... Miss Abby stayed with me. They allowed her to take me, and she raised me."

"Why didn't she come visit you here?"

"She died two months before I turned nineteen." Patrick smiled, remembering Miss Abby. "She was wonderful. She treated me like I was her own kid."

Devin brushed a kiss on Patrick's temple, and Patrick smiled, loving the warmth that settled over him. He snuggled into Devin. Devin lowered the head of the bed, and they both went to sleep in each others arms..

*****

"You ready?" Devin asked as he entered Patrick's hospital room.

"Yeah. Thanks for the clothes. They fit good."

"That's great. The doctor says you are free to go now. You do have to sit in a wheel chair and let a nurse wheel you out. You know that, right?"

"Yes, Patsy told me earlier when I signed the papers."

"Good. You sure you don't mind staying with me until you get everything together?"

"I'm sure."

"Let's go, then. Patsy is waiting in the hall with the wheelchair."

Devin looked at Patrick and smiled. He looked much better today in jeans and a pale gray sweater. It's been two days since Patrick had told him about his shitty childhood, three days since he woke up. He had more color in his gaunt cheeks, and his pale gray eyes were much clearer, full of life and intelligence. He was now able to eat solid foods, which made him immensely happy. He could also walk around for a while without getting exhausted. And early this morning, Dr. Dachev told them Patrick was going to be released later. He'd taken all the tests he needed, and all the tests had come back negative, which was very good. The accident and the long coma seemed to have had no lingering effects, so he was free to go.

Devin waited by the door, knowing that if he offered to help him up, Patrick would decline. He had pride, after all. Patrick stood up, grabbed his wallet, and walked out of the room, all on his own. He sat down in the wheelchair, putting his feet up on the footrests. Devin took the handles from Patsy, and then they were off. Since Devin was off-duty for the next week, Patsy was supposed to wheel the chair out, but they settled for her accompanying them downstairs. When they got to the elevator, Patsy pressed the down button.

Patsy broke the silence. "It really is good to see you up and about, Mr. Henley."

"Patsy, I've told you before not to call me that. My name is Patrick. Please call me Patrick."

Devin suspected Patrick had rolled his eyes while saying that. He grinned.

"Yes, well. Patrick, then."

"Ah, what's this? The unflappable Patsy is flapped?" Devin grinned mercilessly at the older woman.

Patsy glared at him. "Mind your manners, young man."

"Yes, Ma'am," Devin said, laughing.

Patrick snickered. Patsy glared at them, her lips twitching. She gave up and smiled. The elevator doors opened and Patsy stepped on, followed by Devin pushing the wheelchair. Patsy pressed the button for the lobby and the doors closed. As the elevator descended, Devin ran his fingers through Patrick's short, thick auburn hair. The strands felt like fine silk. Candy for his fingers. He chuckled at the thought. The doors opened and they stepped out of the elevator.

"Patrick, would you like to stop at the gift shop first?"

"I wouldn't be able to buy anything. I have no money."

"That's okay. If you see something you really like, I'll get it for you."

"Um, okay."

They went to the gift shop, Patsy now wheeling Patrick. Patrick's eyes immediately went to all the stuffed animals, and Devin saw the longing in his eyes. Devin thought Patrick was a bit old for a stuffed animal, but then again, his mother always said nobody's too old for a stuffed animal. He smiled softly at the thought. Okay, he'd get Patrick one stuffed animal. Something caught his attention and he smiled.

"Hey, Patsy? Please take Patrick to get a drink. Or an ice cream. Whatever he wants."

"Sure."

"I don't nee-"

"Listen, sugar, you might as well acquiesce and just pick something, because he'll insist until he wears you down. That's just the kind of guy he is," Patsy said to Patrick.

"Thank you."

"He's extremely pushy."

Devin glared at Patsy, and Patrick laughed. The sound of that laugh caught Devin off guard, and he felt his chest tightening almost painfully as his ears drank in the musical sound,

"Alright, I'll get something."

"Good. Meet me at the check-out."

Devin hurried away, heading toward the stuffed animals. When he looked around, he was glad to see Patsy had already wheeled Patrick away. Good. Now he could safely grab what he wanted. If he knew what he wanted. He sighed, perusing the stuffed animals. A big, black, fluffy dog caught his attention. It had blue eyes and a bright blue ribbon collar. He smiled and grabbed it. It was so soft, like touching a cloud. He grinned. This would do quite nicely. He hightailed it to the register and checked out. As soon as the lady behind the counter handed him the big bag, Patsy appeared with Patrick. He glanced at the bag and almost fell over in relief. The dog was well hidden by the dark plastic bag, and the bag was bigger than the dog. Good.

He turned back to Patrick and Patsy, smiling. "You guys ready to check out?"

"Yes, we are. Patsy grabbed an Oreo ice cream bar for you."

"Ah, Patsy, my love. You have stolen my heart yet again."

"Is that so?"

"Indeed, it is. You are a goddess."

Patrick looked from Devin to Patsy and back again, clearly puzzled about their exchange."

"That I am. You must bow down before me if you wish to have your sweets."

"Anything for Oreo ice cream on a stick, covered in Oreo cookie crumbs. That right there is heaven for your mouth."

Patsy snorted. "For your mouth, maybe. I happen to be allergic to chocolate."

Devin sighed, rearranging his face to one of sad pity, and shook his head slowly. "That is just sad. Nobody should be allergic to chocolate. Especially Oreos."

"What am I going to do with you?"

"Give me chocolate?"

"Oh, fine. You can have your chocolate."

"Yes!"

Devin saw Patrick's confused look and laughed. "Don't worry. You're not missing anything." He leaned down and swiped the Oreo ice cream bar off Patrick's lap, inadvertently brushing his knuckles along the slight swell of his cock. Devin caught Patrick's gaze and smiled wickedly. "Let's check out, guys."

Fifteen minutes later, Devin was navigating the streets, Patrick riding shotgun. The radio was on, playing Hoobastank's "Out of Control." Devin was nodding his head to the beat and occasionally singing along to the song. He slowed for a yellow light, then muttered an oath under his breath as the light changed red. Patrick turned from the window and looked at him. Devin pasted on a smile as he stopped at the light. Man, he hated waiting at red lights. At least he was in front, so he wouldn't have to wait while other people took their time moving when the light turned green.

"Can I touch you?" Patrick asked.

Devin looked over at Patrick, eyes wide, wondering if he'd heard right.

"Can I? Touch you?"

Devin hesitated, then ventured with, "Touch me where?"

"Can I... touch your... d-dick?"

"Why do you want to touch me?"

"Because I'm gay, but I haven't ever been able to bring myself to touch anybody. Every time I think I'm ready, I always remember my dad forcing me to touch him."

"If you want to, go ahead. Why don't you try it now?"

"Now? Here? In the car?"

"Yes, here in the car. I'm driving, which means I can't force you to do anything you don't want to."

"O-okay."

Patrick turned in his seat, reached out to unbutton Devin's button-fly jeans, hesitated, then undid the first button. Devin's heart beat faster. Patrick managed to get all the buttons open rather quickly. He reached in, touching he bare skin above Devin's crotch, then yanked his hand away.

"You're commando?"

"Always, except at work. It's more comfortable."

"Right."

Patrick's hand slipped back down inside Devin's pants, this time without stopping. His fingers found Devin's cock, stroking it gently. Devin's cock twitched at the attention, hardening. The light turned green, and Devin pulled back into traffic. Hoobastank left the air, but was quickly replaced by Saving Abel's "Addicted." Here Devin sat in his car, Patrick stroking his dick, and he had to listen to "I'm so addicted to, All the things you do, When you're rollin' 'round with me, In between the sheets, Oh the sounds you make, With every breath you take, It's unlike anything, When you're lovin' me." He supposed the song choice could have been worse.

"You're wet," Patrick murmured as his thumb found the very tip of Devin's cock. He rubbed his thumb over the slit over and over.

"Y-yeah," Devin said, voice shaky. He had to fight like hell not to thrust up into Patrick's hand. He had to keep telling himself that he was driving and couldn't afford to get carried away.

Patrick pulled Devin's cock free, bent down, and licked the tip.

"

Jesus

!" Devin shouted, his hips involuntarily jerking up. The car started turning, but Devin quickly righted it.

"Did I do something wrong?" Patrick asked, looking up at him.

"No, not wrong, just.... You surprised the hell out of me is all. I wasn't expecting..."

"You said I could touch you."

"Yeah, but there's a fine line between touching and licking."

"I'm sorry... I won't do it again."

"No!" The word tore free from his lips so sudden and loud, Patrick jumped. "No," he said, softer. "That's not what I meant. If you want to... You can do whatever you want, okay? That lick felt incredible. Just keep in mind that I am driving and that the roads are slick. I'm lucky I was able to correct that swerve so easily."

"Okay. So it is okay if I lick you?"

"More than okay."

"Can I...." He paused, licking his lips, eyes darting everywhere but at Devin.

"Can you what?"

"Can I.... Lick the whole thing? Can I put it all in my mouth?"

Devin stared at Patrick, then blinked. "Yeah, I said you can do anything you want to."

Patrick bent back down and licked the slit again. Devin fought back a shudder of pleasure. His cock was so hard, it almost hurt. He felt the tip of Patrick's tongue flick against the tip once, twice, three times. He actually did shudder in pleasure this time, and almost lost his grip on the wheel. Patrick's hot, wet tongue glided all around the head then, cleaning up Devin's precum. Devin's eyes shifted closed, then flew open.

Focus, Devin.

I'm trying, but it's so hard. God, it feels so fucking goo-

Devin felt the slow glide of Patrick's hot, wet mouth over the head of his cock, and he couldn't help it. He moaned. Loudly. Patrick's mouth slipped down a few inches, his tongue moving sensuously over Devin's cock. Devin's breath hitched as he struggled to keep driving in a straight line. Three more blocks. They had three more blocks to go. He could hold out for three more blocks. Or that's what he thought until he felt Patrick's lips lock around the base of his cock. He cried out in pleasure, hips bucking up before he could stop himself. Patrick was latched on and sucking ferociously on Devin's cock. Devin, arms shaking, managed to find a place on the side of the street, and parked. Now it wouldn't matter if he moved.