A/N: Happy Birthday, Sarah! Here it is, just for you! Sorry that there's no sex in it, but the boys are taking this slowly. Hope you had a great birthday yesterday.  Also, to my fan Kojaky I'd like to say thank you so much for the many reviews, I appreciate every one of them and I'm really glad you love my writing. Much love -DL






                                  Chapter 15








 Ricky awoke drowsily. He realized that his head was resting on something firm and warm. He opened his eyes, blinking a little, and saw that he had fallen asleep on James. They were still sitting on the couch, and the cop was still watching the TV. But his arm was around Ricky's shoulder, and Ricky could feel a thumb rubbing rhythmically over the fabric of shirt at the shoulder. Becoming aware that he was awake, the cop glanced over at him and smiled slightly. "Welcome back, Ricky."
 
He sat up, yawning. After James had touched him so wonderfully(even the thought of that made his cheeks heat a little), he'd suddenly felt rather tired. James had coaxed him into nestling against him, and Ricky had dozed off as they'd watched the football game together. Looking at the screen, he saw that the game was over. The evening news was just starting. "Who won?" he asked.

"The Steelers. You should head on home; you have to be at work in the morning," James told him.

"Yeah. Thanks for everything, umm..." he turned red as he realized how that sounded, after what had happened earlier.

James' lips twitched. "You're welcome. Come on; I'll walk you to the door," he began to steer Ricky toward his front door, his touch firm but gentle.

"Can I come over again tomorrow?" Ricky asked him.

"Of course. And well go and do something together this weekend. Sound good?"

 He nodded. It really did. James opened the door for him, then turned and stepped toward him. The look in his eyes made Ricky's breath catch. "I need to give you your goodnight kiss, Ricky," he purred.

His mouth opened, and James took it in a deep kiss that left him addled and moaning into the cop's mouth. James firm, warm lips moved over his, and a tongue surged into his mouth. A hand cupped the back of his head to hold him in place. Ricky quivered and pushed closer to James, wanting to meld with him and become one person. 

The cop finally stepped back, leaving Ricky flushed and panting on his porch. "Goodnight, Ricky," he said, a little smirk on his lips. 

"G-Goodnight," Ricky rasped, barely able to speak. 

James waved him toward his car, and he managed to get his limbs to work well enough to walk away down the front path. Oh, God! That kiss! It made him want to run back up the path, hurl himself into James' strong arms, and let the other man ravish him. But no matter how strong that urge was, the lingering dregs of fear also remained. So he got into his car on shaky legs, and drove slowly home.




Ricky was looking forward to going to James' house. It made him rather breathless to imagine what might happen tonight! But when he drove home after work to change his clothes and collect some food to take over to James' place, his heart sank when he saw a familiar battered truck parked in his driveway, and the lean figure leaning against the side of the vehicle waiting for him. He pulled up and turned off his engine, getting out of his car only reluctantly. "Hi, Daddy," he said tensely.

 Roger Raynes narrowed his eyes menacingly at his tone. "Why haven't you called your Momma, Ricky?" he growled. "She's worried about you. Won't stop nagging me."

 Ricky swallowed heavily. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I haven't called her in a couple of weeks, but I've been so busy at my new job and everything..."

 His father snorted. "Too busy to make time for your Momma? Even to call her? You're getting too big for your britches, boy," his voice lowered and took on an ugly note.

 Ricky could feel himself shaking. "I'm r-really sorry, Sir," he stuttered. 
Roger glowered at him. "You can come to dinner tonight to make it up to her, boy," he rasped. 

His mouth opened to protest, but no sound came out. He had a date with James, but it wasn't as though he could tell his father that! Even imagining it made him break out in a cold sweat. "Okay," he said aloud. "I'll come."

A nod. "Be there by seven. I hate it when my dinner gets cold." Roger turned and climbed into his truck. He backed out of Ricky's driveway in a haze of engine smoke and squealing tires, and drove away down the street like he was racing the hillbilly version of the Indy 500. 

Ricky stood in his driveway and tried to get his racing heart to slow a little. He felt sick to his stomach. He pulled out his cell phone, and called James' number. "Hey, Ricky," he heard his boyfriend’s voice say.

"Hi, James. Umm...I can't come over tonight. I have to go to my parents' house for dinner, because my mom is worried about me," Ricky told him hesitantly. "Is that okay?"

"Of course it is," James replied soothingly. "You can still come over this weekend."

 "Thank you," he breathed, feeling better already. 

"It’s no problem. I'll see you Saturday. Will you be all right, going over to your parents?" the cop asked, concern in his voice.

 He drew in a shuddering breath. "Yeah. I'm used to it. I'll see you Saturday. Afternoon?"

"Sounds good. Take care of yourself, Ricky. Don't let your father get to you."

 “I won't. See you later." he hung up the phone, grateful that James didn't seem upset that he couldn’t come over tonight. It was nice to be dating somebody who understood. A lot of the girls he'd dated hadn't; and if he tried to explain about how horrible his father was, they'd just think he was a pussy who wouldn't stand up to his father. A few had gotten it once they'd met Roger, but those meetings had only speeded up their breaking up with him. Not that Ricky could blame them. Who the hell wanted Roger Raynes as a father-in-law?


 He knocked at the door of his parents' house, and his mother opened it. 

"Ricky," she said.

His gut tied itself into knots when he saw a fresh bruise on her right cheek. Seeing bruises on his mother always made him want to go and confront his father - but every time that he had in the past, he'd just gotten beaten to a pulp himself. Finally, his mother had begged him to stop trying to fight her husband over his abusive behavior. She was afraid that Roger would get really angry and kill her only child. And Ricky had reluctantly agreed, for her sake. But that didn't mean that it didn't still make him angry and sick whenever he saw her sporting a new bruise from his father's ready fists.

"Hi, Mom," he said through gritted teeth. 

"Come on in," she said, stepping back and swinging the door open. "Dinner's almost ready."

He stepped inside and followed her into the kitchen. She walked over to the pot bubbling on the stove top. "Sit down," she said over her shoulder, and he perched on a bar stool obediently.

"Why haven’t you called me lately, Ricky?" she asked as she stirred the pot.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I've just been super busy. But that's no excuse - I'll call you at least once a week from now on, I promise."

"You're such a good boy, Ricky," she replied as she turned away from the stove. He braced himself for the inevitable question. "So...are you seeing anybody?"

 He didn't know how to answer this question. He WAS seeing someone, but it wasn't like he could tell his mother that. But before he could answer her anyway, she went on: "Because if you're not seeing anyone, Ricky, my friend Lila has a daughter who's single."

 He felt horror race through him. His mother's friend Lila went to the same brimstone-and-fire church that his parents did, and she was like a female copy of Roger Raynes - only with breasts. The thought of what a girl raised by such a woman must be like made him shudder. "Actually, Mom, I AM seeing someone!" he said quickly. 

"Oh? Who is she? Tell me all about her!" his mother cried enthusiastically.

 He began to panic. What was he supposed to say? If he told her that he'd lied, she'd want him to go out with her friend Lila's single daughter. But he just COULDN'T admit to her that he was dating another guy! His racing mind came up with a compromise. "I...err...I'm seeing a girl at work," he lied. "She and I just started going out, and it's been casual so far. We're just waiting to see where it's gonna go," the last half of this statement was completely true, even if the first half wasn't.

"That sounds good. What’s her name?"

 More internal panic. "Jamie!" he finally blurted out. 

His mother shook her head disapprovingly. "I've never liked girls' names that sound so mannish," she said. 

"Yeah," he replied. 'But it's not like it's her fault. That’s just the name her parents gave her..."

 "When are you going to bring her over to the house to meet us?" his mother asked next.

"I'm not sure. Like I said, we're going slow right now. It would be pretty weird to bring her to meet my parents when we've only been out on a few dates."

 She sighed. "I suppose. I just hope that this one works out for you, Ricky.  You don't seem to have any luck with girls."

 "This time might be different, Mom," he said dryly. 'Really different', he added in his head, thinking of James. 




He was glad to get the hell out of there after dinner was over. He'd definitely remember to call his mother more often if it meant having to go over for dinner LESS often. And at least he had tomorrow with James to look forward to, even if he'd missed out on his date with James tonight. 

He sighed wearily as he climbed out of his car and walked slowly toward his house. Spending an evening with his parents was always such a trial! His father either only replied in grunts at dinner, or went on long, angry rants over whatever was pissing him off at the moment. His mother was so cowed by her husband that she seldom said much when he was around, and so Ricky never knew what to say either. Plus, he didn't want to say much anyway, lest he set his father off again. He could only compare tonight with the evenings he'd been spending with James lately, and they came up far short. Really far short! He was finally experiencing what it was like to spend time with a person who didn't yell, didn't scream, didn’t lash out; a person who didn't let his temper rule him and who wasn't half-drunk all the time. It was wonderful. James was wonderful. And he was starting to realize that he was a very, very lucky person indeed...




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