Language Problems
by Flaulus
As Damian sat holding a bag of frozen peas against his bruised cheek, his father looked on, smiling.
"I'm glad you gave that poofter what for. It's what they all deserve. At least, you're a man."
"Yes Dad." Damian replied.
"You should have finished it, though."
"He's Miles' cousin, so I didn't want to hurt him. I did enough to stop him hurting me again, so I can claim self-defence."
"How old is he, twenty-five? You're seventeen, so yeah, self-defence. Good thinking, boy. Coming to watch the match at the pub?" Dan, his father asked.
"Nah! Miles is coming round, and we've got to sort things."
"Why do you bother with that poofter? You've proved it today; you should hang out with real men."
In a mirror image of the conversation, Miles' mother was saying, "Jeremy's lucky that thug didn't seriously injure him. He's right, that Damian boy is no good for you. If you get a reputation for wild sex, drugs and violence, you'll never find a decent girlfriend. A good marriage is so important."
"Jeremy attacked Damian." Miles retorted, "He's the thug, and Damian is more than my best friend he's …"
"Don't start that gay nonsense again. There's nothing wrong a decent girl can't fix."
"I'm going out."
"Visiting that yob, no doubt. I'm warning you, he'll bring you down."
Miles sat on Damian's bed, watching as Damian pulled his shirt off and unzipped his jeans.
"I'm sorry about Jeremy." Miles said, "I knew he was anti-gay, but I didn't know he could be so violent."
"Don't worry, it's not your fault. It's you I don't want to upset."
"I'm upset with my family for threatening to call the police, but I said I wouldn't lie to them."
By now, Damien was naked and Miles was staring at his manhood, just inches from his mouth.
"Are we going to talk about Jeremy, or what?" Damian asked.
Mile smiled, leant forward to kiss Damian before peeling off his own shirt.
Dan watched the match sharing rounds and shots with his friends but decided to share the victory with his son and his mate. He just hoped Miles was not too much of a poofter to join in. He was a big man, but moved quietly and easily. He grabbed bottles from the fridge and headed for Damian's room. As he opened the door he was confronted by Damian lying on his front, a pillow under his tummy to raise his backside as Miles supported his own weight with his arms, vigorously humping Damian.
Only when Dan shifted position, and the bottles chinked did Miles look round. His eyes widened in shock and fear as he tried to pull out, roll off and cover himself at the same time. Luckily the bed was against the wall otherwise Miles would have fallen onto the floor.
Damian looked round and saw his Dad.
"I wish you'd knock before you came in here." Damian complained, "How was the match?"
"We won, 3-0. Do you want to celebrate with your old man."
"Why not? You've killed the mood in here and Miles is having a nervous breakdown. I wish you'd knock." Damian repeated.
"This is my flat, and I go where I like when I like. There's a lock on the bathroom door. That's enough. Here boy, or are you too much of a poofter for beer?"
As he spoke, Dan offered a bottle to Miles who was becoming as bewildered as he was scared. As Damian wriggled round and held out his hand for one, Miles took the chance to grab the pillow to cover himself.
"It don't bother me, boy." Dan smiled, "You ain't got nothing, I want."
"Maybe I should go." Miles said, cautiously.
"Why? You're Damian's boyfriend, aren't you?"
"You don't like gays. You call us poofters often enough."
"You tell him, boy. I ain't got the words."
"OK! This isn't the best of neighbourhoods, and it's always been bigoted." Damian began, "Mum used to say, the people don't have much, so they're scared strangers might take away what little they have. Dad agrees he's not good with words, it's difficult for him to adapt, so he uses the language he grew up with."
Miles nodded while Damian continued, "I told him I was gay when I was fourteen."
As Miles looked on, astonished, Damian added, "He scared my first two boyfriends away because of how he spoke. He tried with the third one, and it was worse. He sat and glared, not knowing what to say. He just looked angry."
Miles chuckled but said, "Yes, but I don't like being called a poofter. It's insulting."
"It's a put down, not anti-gay. He just doesn't know any other word."
"OK so why does he call you a man and me a poofter?"
"Because you're gay but not out. It gave Jeremy an opening to get one on you, your parents are on your back all the time, and you don't like being seen with me. He blames you for causing that fight."
Just then, Miles' phone rang; it was his mother, so he put it on speaker.
"Hello Dear." she said, "Your father and I have been talking, and we've decided to take out an injunction to stop that Damian boy approaching the family. You'd best come home."
Miles hesitated, took a deep breath and replied, "I'm staying at Damian's tonight. I'm gay, he's my boyfriend, I love him, and we're going to have sex. I'm not going to hide it any more."
"Don't be so childish. I've heard about Damian's father, he'd kill you if you tried."
Miles grinned, "I'll be OK providing I stop being a poofter and become a man. I'm staying."
Dan also grinned and nodded, tipping his bottle in salute.
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