Page 31 of Hidden Desires
Slap!
Blade gave his buddy a wicked slap on the ass as he broke out in giggles.
“Hey!” Jerry gasped, whipping his head around and rubbing his tender butt with his hands. “We need to hurry. The show is going to end any minute.”
They had discovered that there was approximately a thirty-minute window before the end of the show, when performers were mostly busy in the staging tent, to pay any notice to what was happening in the trailers. This had been lovingly dubbed their “make-out time.”
“I’m trying, but you’re the one who keeps getting distracted by metal poles and sore asses,” Blade answered.
They both laughed just as the door to the trailer burst open.
Both boys jumped away from each other. Jerry hit his head on the kitchen cabinet, while Blade hurt his back against another metal frame that made up the tiny couch they were both sitting on.
“What the fuck is going on in here?” Blade’s father barked, stumbling into the trailer, still wearing his performance outfit.
“Uhh, nothin’, Dad. We’re just hangin’ out… that’s… all.” Blade had never been so afraid in his entire life.
Like many in the Southern states, Blade’s father didn’t believe in homosexuality. In his words, “All those who participate in the devil’s dance should be shot and buried.”
It wasn’t a surprise that his father would be furious.
“You some kind of homo?” his father snapped, grabbing his bat from next to the door and swinging it at Blade.
The bat smacked the side of the kitchen cabinet, preventing it from striking Blade.
Blade had never been so glad to live in such a small trailer.
Jerry’s eyes went wide when he realized that Blade’s father was losing his shit.
Panicked, he ran to the back of the trailer and squeezed his skinny little ass out the side window. He didn’t seem too concerned about helping the guy he had just been kissing.
“I ain’t having no faggot son!” his father growled, taking another swing at Blade. This time, the aluminum bat connected with his ribs.
A shot of pain blasted through Blade’s side, knocking the wind temporarily out of him.
He raised his arm in defense and stared up at his furious father. Gone was the loving father who had spent hours teaching him how to throw blades. Now, in place of that man, there was nothing but rage and hate.
“Dad! Please!” Blade cried out.
He couldn’t understand why his father hated him so much. Yes, he was kissing a boy, but he was still his son. Surely his love for his son would negate any sort of dogma or belief that what he was doing was wrong. It was just a kiss, for fuck’s sake.
Another shot of pain as the bat connected with his arm and part of his shoulder.
“Fuck!” Blade shouted.
He needed to do something. At this rate, his father was apt to hit him in the head. One strong blow to the head, and it was lights out for him.
Anger shot through his veins as he caught the bat with his hands. The look of pure rage in his father’s eyes caused Blade to snap. He raised his leg and kicked his father hard in the stomach.
The man fell backward and bounced off the tiny counter space. He let out a groan as he clutched his back and slid to the floor.
Blade felt horrible.
“Dad! Are you okay?” he asked, jumping from the couch and trying to get to his father.
The man pushed him away.
“Don’t fucking touch me, faggot. Get your shit and go. I don’t want to ever see your face again,” his father growled, eyes filled with such contempt it made Blade’s stomach sick.
