This is a mobile proxy. It is intended to visit the IOMfAtS Story Shelf on devices that would otherwise not correctly display the site. Please direct all your feedback to the friendly guy over at IOMfAtS!

Westpoint Tales

by Kiwi

Jason and Jordan's tale - 18 (final)

Somehow, without even thinking about it, he found himself at the other end of the town, in Jason's neighbourhood. He walked up Jason's street. He didn't know why he was doing this, the kid didn't want to know him and he didn't want to know him either. They were finished - over.

But, maybe he might get a glimpse of him as he passed. Maybe. He guessed it was true then, you never forget your first love.

The McDonald's house stood out in the quiet street. It was lit up like a Christmas tree. Every light in the house seemed to be on. That was not like Jason, he was always very careful about not wasting electricity. Jordan suspected that Jason only ever turned the heater on when he was there. Used to be there.

Probably it was Dizzy Aunt Daisy, she was living there now. Obviously she wasn't so careful with the power bill. Apart from the lights, there was no sign of life in there as he walked on by.

But then he saw something strange. Jason's father's car was parked haphazardly outside the front of the house. It was empty but the lights were on and the driver's door was wide open.

What was going on? He'd left for work days ago, hadn't he?

Jordan sped up his walking pace. It wouldn't pay for him to be seen around there. Dan McDonald had probably made a surprise trip home to check up on Jason. But he'd done nothing wrong. Jordan hadn't been around there and he hadn't been to the Top Shop. He wouldn't be either, not ever again.

He turned the corner into Peal Street, with one last glance back, and he walked on. Going home - alone.

Partway there, it started raining again, which was a pain. He wasn't wearing a jacket or anything. He'd just have to get wet then. At least he'd be warm and dry once he got home. But it was miserable, he was miserable. Life's a bitch.

He walked on through the night, and the rain, and his emotions welled up and he started to cry - again. This was stupid, he was far too big to be walking around town bawling his eyes out. But, who could tell? It was late and it was raining anyway.

Just a few days ago, his life was so good, and now it was - well, it was a bitch. He wished that they'd never come here. He wished that he'd never laid eyes on Jason Bloody McDonald either. But he hoped that the kid was all right. He hadn't taken sick had he? Would even that bring his father home?

Oh Shit! He hadn't tried to hang himself or something had he? No. He wouldn't do that. Would he? No. They'd be at the hospital anyway, wouldn't they? But, what if it was too late? What if he'd done it?

He'd get Sandie - she'd find out. Daisy was her aunt and she'd tell her what was going on. Sandie had already left the dance, with Tommy, but she'd have to go home sooner or later. He'd phone her, once he got home and out of this bloody cold rain.

He rushed home, avoiding the main street and making a wide detour around the Union Hall where the dance was still going on.

Around the last corner, finally, and approaching the rear of the Top Shop, Jordan saw something on the sidewalk, in the shadows and up against the fence by their back gate. What? That wasn't there before. Was someone dumping rubbish in the street outside his home?

Then, as he got closer, he saw that it wasn't rubbish at all. It was a person. It was Jason! And he was naked - apart from an old sack or something wrapped around his waist, he was completely naked and barefoot in the night and the cold, driving rain.

He was just sitting there, his chin resting on his drawn-up knees and staring at the two, unopened, bottles of vodka on the ground in front of him. The water ran down and dripped off his flattened, saturated hair.

"Jason? Jason, what the fuck are you doing there? And where are your clothes? Are you trying to die or something?"

"I might as well," he answered. "I've got no clothes. I've got nothing but the booze and I don't want that either." He looked up with his red, swollen eyes, then got unsteadily to his feet.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Jordan. I shouldn't be here."

He turned to go but Jordan caught his arm and spun him around. "Damn right, you shouldn't be here. Not like this. What's wrong, Jason? What happened to you?"

"My father. My father happened to me. He threw me out just like he said he would. He threw me out with nothing, not even the clothes I was wearing."

"But why? What have you done? You haven't been with me. You haven't been with someone else have you?"

"Of course I haven't been with someone else!" Jason flared. "I wouldn't. I couldn't. How can you say that? Sorry, Jordan. I'll go now."

He tried to pull away but Jordan held him tightly. "Don't. You're not going anywhere. What happened Jase?"

"Jase?" the shivering, naked boy started crying again. "The dogs are gone, Jordan. All of them, Prince, Queenie and Sheba, they're all gone. Someone cut their chains and took them, or something. They've gone away."

Jordan was stunned. "But. . .but who?. . . Who would do that?"

"I don't know," he sobbed. "I don't know. Someone who hates me - take your pick, there's plenty of them. All I know is my friends are missing and my father blames me because I didn't look after them."

"The bloody bastard! How could he? He doesn't deserve you, Jase, he never did."

"He doesn't want me anyway, not now. Now I've got nothing and nowhere to go. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be here. I've got no claims on you. Let me go, Jordan. I'll leave you alone."

"You will not." Jordan wrapped his arms around the cold, wet, boy and held him tight. "You're not going anywhere. This is exactly where you should be. Here. With me."

"Jordie?" Great sobs wracked his body. "Jordie, help me. Please help me."

Jordan kissed his wet head. "Of course I'll help you. I love you, you Dork."

"Thank you. Thank you, Jordie. I love you so much. I love you Jordie."

"I know."

They kissed, a hungry, loving kiss, then Jordan broke away. "Later. Come inside before we bloody freeze or drown or something."

Jordan opened the gate with one hand and started towing him towards the back door, but Jason pulled back.

"Jordie, I can't. Your parents. . . "

"My parents will be delighted to see you. Maybe not like this, but they'll still be glad you're here. Mum's been telling me for days to go and make up with you."

"She has? But . . But your father -" He pulled back but Jordan held on and dragged him forward.

"Come ON, Jason. My father's not your father, he's nothing like him. Come on. You'll see. Your old man will probably find out before he's much older too."

Jordan pulled him in the door, flicked on the lights and banged on his parents' bedroom door.

"Mum!  Mum, are you awake?"

"Jordie!"

"Shut up, Jason."

There was an answering groan from behind the bedroom door.

"Oh good. Get up, Mum. Please. We need you. We'll be in the kitchen. Come on, Jase, it's warmer in there." He put an arm around Jason's shoulders and steered him into the kitchen.

"It's the middle of the bloody night!" Half-awake and grumpy, Mrs. Taylor came stumbling into the room, tying her dressing-gown cords around her. "What's going on, Jordan. What have you done now? Oh my GOD!"

She stopped short at the sight of the shivering naked boy in her son's arms. Jason pulled away from him, his red eyes opened wide.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Taylor. I'm sorry, I shouldn't - "

She cut him off. "Shut up Jason. Come here."

June Taylor wrapped her warm arms around the shivering boy and stood holding him close while he sobbed over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Mrs. Taylor. Really I am - sorry."

"Jason," she said, pushing him back and wiping her fingers under his eyes. "If you say that one more time, I'll slap you." Then she hugged him again. "I told you. You're welcome here anytime."

"Thank you. Oh, thank you." He sobbed and cried again.

Seeing that she wasn't going to get any sense out of him, she turned her head and looked at Jordan. "What's this boy doing here, Jordie? And where are his clothes?"

"He came for me. He hasn't got any clothes. His father made him leave them behind when he threw him out."

"Did he just. The Bastard! Go and wake your father up Jordan. Tell him that I want him."

"His father's already here." Bill Taylor walked into the room, "What's going on here? Jason! What the hell happened to you, Lad?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Taylor. . I - " Jordan's mother closed Jason's mouth with her hand.

"I'll slap you," she warned. "Sit down here. Bill, go and get a blanket to wrap around him. Jordan, go and turn the shower on, not too hot. And get out of those wet clothes too. I'll stoke the fire up."

She knelt down, rattling the kitchen fire. Jason sank down into a seat, and then jumped up again when Bill returned with the duvet off their bed. He draped it around the boy, then put his arms around him and held him tight.

Jordan came back with just a bath-towel tied around his waist. He took Jason's hand and tugged at him. "Come on. I need a warm shower too. Let him go, Dad."

"I. . ah. .." red-faced, Jason looked from one parent to the other. "I don't know."

"Jason. Go and get in the shower with Jordan before all the hot water runs out. I'll make us some tea and then we'll talk."

When they came back, both wrapped in duvets now, Michael and Sean had both got up and all four Taylors were sitting waiting for them. Mrs. Taylor poured out a tea, and a hot chocolate for Jordan, and put them in front of them where they sat, together, at the kitchen table.

"Now. What happened, Jason?"

Jason sat and told them all his story while Jordan held him. There were a lot of questions from everybody. Finally Jordan stopped them.

"Right, that's it. Now you know. Jason's here and he's staying here, okay?"

"Yes. Of course he's staying here," Bill agreed. "As long as he wants to that is."

"Oh yes. Thank you, Mr. Taylor. I want to. I really want to."

"That's settled then. June? What do you think?"

"What do I think? I think that Michael, then Jordan and then Sean, all our boys arrived in this family naked, wet and messy. Looks to me like we've just got another one."

"Thank you, Mrs. Taylor, Mr. Taylor. I really don't have anywhere else to go."

"You don't need anywhere else, Sweetheart," June smiled. "This is your home now and this is your family. No matter what happens, even if you and Jordan split up, you'll always have a home here."

"Hey!" Jordan protested. "We're not going to split up, not ever. I won't let him."

"He won't try, Jordie," Jason grinned fondly at him. "Not ever."

"Right." Mrs. Taylor got to her feet, stretching and yawning. "Bedtime, I think. There's nothing that won't keep until the morning now. It's late and I'm tired."

"But. I - umm," Jason looked around the room. "You haven't got a spare room. Where am I going to sleep?"

"With me, of course," Jordan grinned. "With me, in my bed. Tonight and every night from now on."

"But, what about Sean? It's his room too. I don't want to crowd him."

"Don't worry about Sean," said Mrs. Taylor. "Just go to bed now. We'll work something out in the morning."

"I think we can do better than that." Mr. Taylor got to his feet. "June, Boys, go to bed. Sean you can go and sleep in Michael's bed for tonight."

"Hey. What about me?" Michael asked.

"You're not going to bed, Michael. Go and get your clothes on. You're coming with me."

"With you? Okay. But where are we going at this time of the night?"

"We're going to see your uncles. Come on, hurry up. You lot, get to bed."

"Dad? What are you doing?" Jordan asked. "Why are you going to see your brothers? They'll be in bed."

"Well they won't be for long. Never you mind what we're doing, you'll find out. Just go and keep our new baby-boy warm."

"Right. I can do that. Newborns need lots of cuddles don't they?" Jordan grinned.

"Yes they do," said Mrs. Taylor. "Lots and lots. Go to bed and look after him."

Next morning, late, Jordan and Jason came back to the kitchen to find all the family sitting there, along with two other men.

"Morning Family," said Jordan with a big smile.

"About time too," Sean replied. "You think you're on your honeymoon or something?"

"Shut up Sean."

"Yes indeed. Shut up Sean." One of the men, a spitting image of Bill Taylor, got to his feet. He offered his hand to Jason. "Good morning, Jordie. Jason, I'm John Taylor, Bill's brother and Jordan's uncle and yours too now, I guess. Welcome to our family."

"Thank you, Sir." Jason shook his hand. "Thank you everybody."

"No problems, Jason," said Jordan's father. "This is my other brother, Scott. Stand up and say hello to your new nephew, Scott."

"Are you ever going to stop bossing me around, Bill Taylor?" Scott got up and took Jason's hand. "I was just going to. Hello Jason. I'm your good-looking uncle."

"They all look good to me," Jason blushed.

"Dad, what's going on here?" Jordan asked. "Why is everybody here?"

"We're just having a nice cup of tea with your mother," Bill replied. "Do you want one?"

"Me? No way. Jason will have one, I'm having coffee as usual."

"Get your own then," Mrs. Taylor said. "Jason, what are you doing in Jordan's clothes?"

"I, umm, I didn't have any. Jordie said that I could borrow his. That's all right isn't it?"

"No, it's not all right. Jordan's clothes are Jordan's. He's wearing them out fast enough as it is. He doesn't need any help from you."

"But...But, I. . ." Jason stammered.

Jordan burst in. "What's he supposed to do then? Get real Mum."

"Don't talk to your mother like that," Bill snapped. Then he grinned. "We're teasing you, Boys. Go and have a look in the back yard."

"You what? Come on, Jase," Jordan took his hand and towed him out to the back.

Outside the door they both stopped and stared. A section of the wooden fence had been removed and Jason's father's motor home stood on the back lawn.

Jordan's father came out between them and draped his arms around both their shoulders.

"Like it, Boys? Sean's always wanted his own room. We figure that you two can live out here. There's only one bedroom of course, but we didn't think you'd mind sharing."

"Dad! Oh Dad, thank you," Jordan beamed as he hugged him.

"Thank you, Sir," Jason said quietly. "Thank you all for the thought. But my father would never allow it. He's going to go right off."

"He won't, Jason," Michael said. "We all went around and had a long chat with your father last night and he was glad to see it go. There won't be any trouble."

"You all did that for me? Thank you. Thank you all." Jason stood, overcome and crying again.

Jordan wrapped around him and held him close. "It's okay, Jase. In this family, we look after our own and you're ours now. Right Dad?"

"Damn right, Jordie. We'll leave you two to sort out the mess in there. We just threw everything in. You'll find your clothes in there, Jason. Your clothes and everything else out of your room."

"Except for the bed, of course," Sean grinned. "They figured that you won't be wanting two beds."

"Shut up Sean," Jordan warned, but Jason pushed him out of the way.

"I'll handle this, Jordie. Shut up, Sean," and he hugged the squirming, wriggling, Sean.

"I'll be good. I'll be good. Get off, Gayboy."

"Sean," sighed Mrs. Taylor. "Don't talk to your brother like that."

Previous
Chapter
Read More Stories by this Author
Talk about this story on our forum

Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.

[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]

* Some browsers may require a right click instead