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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/712631-The-Gun-Part-3
by Steve
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · LGBTQ+ · #712631
Brent still hasn't used his gun. What will happen?
"We're there," Scott said.
"Huh?"
"Where were you just then?"
"Oh, um, just thinking." Brent looked around. "Where are we? I don't recognize anything."
"This place, my friend, is going to change your life forever." Scott's eyes twinkled. He leaned over. "Look over there," Scott pointed to a couple of men walking down the street hand in hand. The couple stopped at the next corner and kissed before continuing on out of sight. "So?"
Brent's heart began pounding. For so much of his life, he had dreamed of a place like this. A place far away from his mother and stepfather. A place where he could be with anyone he chose to be. Where he could kiss whoever he wanted. Where nobody would care. Where he could be free.
"Kiss me."
They kissed. With his adrenaline pumping, and attraction beginning to take over, Brent began losing control of himself. Brent's hands ran up Scott's back, into his hair, and back down over Scott's arms. He ran them up Scott's chest, and his hands began to hover over the button's on Scott's shirt.
"Not yet..."
"But..."
Scott put his finger on Brent's lips. "Shhh. We just got here. There's a lot to show you."

Fighting to stay focused on Scott, Brent's mind began to wander again. What kind of punishment would be awaiting him at home? Would his stepfather take one step too far tonight? Would Brent, by the end of the night be taking a long nap in the morgue?
Brent shivered. He'd thought about the possibility of his stepfather killing him. This time though, the images in his head were much clearer. So much more realistic. Somehow, he had to get his hands on a gun. He had to find a way to protect himself, and his freedom. A gun would be his way out. A gun would solve all his problems.

"C'mon, we've got places to go, things to do."
Brent sighed. "I don't know..."
Before Brent could protest, Scott had opened his door. Scott grabbed Brent's hand. "C'mon."
Putting his fears and insecurity aside, Brent followed. Scott was holding his hand. As they walked down the street, Brent could feel that people were watching them. They walked to a small coffee house. Brent smiled, thinking how cute the tables out on the sidewalk were, where couples, mainly men, were holding hands, or kissing. Scott found them a table, pulling out the chair for Brent.

They sat for hours talking, occasionally accepting refills, just so that they didn't have to move.
"Thank you for bringing me here."
Scott leaned over the table, nearly knocking Brent's coffee into his lap.
"Scott, I have to go."
The sun was going down. He should have been home hours ago. Brent was pretty sure tonight would be another replay of the night of the big game. He'd go home, his stepfather would be at the door. With any luck, his stepfather would actually kill him, tonight. Then, he wouldn't have to worry about going home again.
Scott's lips brushed Brent's. "Stay with me tonight."
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/712631-The-Gun-Part-3