The Once Future King:
Part One: The Boyhood
An EVELMYS Story

Chapter IV:
Discoveries

--

Alone in his room again, he turned the stereo on to drown out his own feelings of self-doubt. The radio though was only playing ancient depressing country songs and did nothing to cheer Nick up. He flipped it off and sighed, in a state between helplessness and surrender. The room was like a prison to Nick, being stuck there unable to escape. It had everything he needed in the world, and yet he hated it. He had to get out. His door cracked open and he scanned the hall. There was no one there. He walked out and shut the door behind him before walking down to the end, pulling the drawstring and the stairs to the ground. He climbed the rickety stairs and pushed through the trapdoor at the top for the first time in his life.

Inside, he was stunned at the sight that stood in front of his eyes. He had long since known that Greg had been neglected, but he had no idea just how much like a prison his room was. Granted, he had expected to find furniture and all the things that were typically found in a room. No, Greg's room was actually fairly large and quite noticeably empty. The only furnishings in his room was an old army cot, with a lumpy pillow and a tattered blanket, a chest, a small desk, and one rickety chair that sat next to the only window in the room. The room had no noticeable toys, no carpet, or wall decorations. In fact, the dry wall wasn't even painted very well.

Nick had no idea that Greg was living like this. The sight of his empty room nearly sickened him, as a new series of emotions filled his head and heart. Rage, pure unadulterated rage, coursed through his veins. How could his own father treat a human being like this? He didn't understand it. Suddenly, every bad thing he ever thought about his old man came true.

He didn't expect Greg's room to be like his own room. He didn't expect it to have an extravagant antique bed with several blankets, along with a big wooden dresser to match. His room had painted walls and carpeting, and several knick-knacks he had collected. He had a computer, a television set, and remote control cars that he had long since broken. He had everything he had ever wanted and or asked for.

Seeing Greg's room really gave Nick a different perspective on life. Up until this point he knew that he had been neglected, but he had always just assumed that he was at least treated equally as his room was concerned. It turned out to be quite opposite on what Nick thought.

What would he have done at this moment to see Greg? He wanted him to walk into the room, tell one of his elaborate stories, and then maybe he could wrap his arms around him as they cried on each other's shoulders. Loneliness consumed him as he walked over to Greg's old army cot and laid his body down. Tears now freely flowed from his eyes, still hearing his dear dad's voice ringing in his mind. He failed him and he knew he had. He had failed him bad this time. This time there would be nothing he could do to fix this.

Hours passed since Nick first laid his head down. Hours of irregular breaths and long hard sobs into the lumpy uncased pillow. Hours had passed when Greg popped through the trap door entrance to his room.

The light was flipped on and Greg stood there in shock at the sight of Nick lying in his bed, tears freely flowing from those saddened brown eyes. He had been hoping that Bill wasn't too hard on him, and now he understood just how hard Bill was on him. There was sadness in Greg's eyes, sadness mixed in with his own understanding of the persecution of Bill Stokes. He never had the privilege to let the man down. Bill never had many expectations for him. However, he did know and understand what it was like to want to be loved and praised and to receive criticism or nothing in the absence of the harsh words of expectations unmet.

"Are you alright?" asked Greg, cautiously approaching his cot to where Nick lay in a state of distress. "Can I do something for you?"

"No, you don't have to do anything for me. Yeah, I'm fine," he answered, sitting up as the younger boy took off his shirt and tossed it carelessly into the pile at the far corner with the other dirty clothes. Watching carefully, Nick had noticed several red lines across Greg's back and wondered silently what caused them. Though, somewhere in his gut he knew it was a crop or a whip of sorts. Since it didn't seem to bother Greg, he didn't make a big deal of it.

The exhaustion in Greg's eyes was intense, as he walked over to a small basin under a small dripping pipe and splashed the water over his face. Dunking a rag inside it, he began to clean himself off silently and quite pained. Watching the young man cleaning himself had a strange effect on Nick as he felt sensations between his legs intensifying again. He shouldn't be here and he knew that now and walked silently over to the trapdoor to leave him alone to lick his wounds.

"You don't have to leave," said Greg, placing the rag back into the basin. "Please stay?"

Nick stopped and watched Greg a little bit more as he struggled to cleanse his marked back.

"No, its best that no one knows I am here," smiled Nick gravely and started for the door.

"But, no one knows you're here," replied Greg. "I don't want to be alone. Nick, please don't leave me alone. I hate it up here." Tears now sprung from his eyes and this marked a first for Nick. Never before had he ever seen the young boy cry. He'd always been so tough and accustomed to the life he's lived.

With the tearful Greg begging him not to go, there was no way Nick could take the three more steps necessary to leave his room. He watched him as his arm wrapped over his shoulder and he saw the pained expression on Greg's face. He stopped there for a second before deciding to help him.

"Here, let me," said Nick kindly offering a hand for the rag. Gently, Nick wiped the rag over the beaten back of his friend. Gently, he held his hot sunburned body as he flinched from the pain.

"Who did this to you?" asked Nick bravely.

"The field master, he whips me," answered Greg's shaken voice. Tears swelled in his eyes before he pulled away from Nick. His hands covered his face, attempting to hide the tears, the hurt, and the agony. The field master wasn't just whipping Greg. That much was clear to Nick. The field master was breaking him piece by piece, and it was highly promoted and praised by none other than his dear father.

The sight of the broken boy crying hard into his hands hit Nick between the eyes, before slamming hard into his gut and chest. His very soul hurt for Gregory Stokes. Slowly, he approached the small-frightened boy and gently wrapped his arms tightly around him and hugged him telling him softly that everything will be all right. On some level he was telling himself everything was going to be all right, but he, like Greg, had a hard time seeing how.

For hours, they stayed like that desperate for contact in each other's arms, crying oceans of tears. Hours passed and the two of them didn't even move a muscle to part themselves. In each other's arms, they cried. They cried and gave each other the necessary comfort they both wanted and needed until the first ringing of Bill's alarm

Softly, Greg pushed away. His eyes were full of sadness and want, but he knew that Nick should be going now. "You best get, he's going to be here shortly and ask me to cook him breakfast," said Greg rather sadly. He didn't want to leave him any more than Nick wanted to leave him. "Go now, please," begged Greg, not wanting anyone to get in trouble. "You can come tomorrow night if you want, just go now."

With that, Nick's head hung low as he took hesitant steps to the trapdoor. He spared one more look at Greg now slipping between the sheets before leaving the attic for his own room and prison.

--

Summer came and the cotton was nearing harvest. By this time, Nick was home from his new school, as were his brother's John, James, Matthew, and Nathaniel. The house was full of people now, but that only served as a reminder for Greg that this was not his family, and this was not his house. He spent a good portion of the time he was allowed outside with his horse.

Every summer it was like that for Greg, and every summer he'd spend as much time outside with his horse as he could. It wasn't very much seeing how only Jillian let him out and all the rest of the time he was either in his empty room with his black cat or out in the field.

Walking outside, more than slightly miffed, Nick saw Greg leaning against the fence watching Hope frolicking in the pasture. "Why don't you call him and we can go riding," suggested Nick, the angered expression now fading from his facial expression. It took Greg no time at all to get his riding equipment. He was thirteen at this time and Nick was a few weeks from turning fifteen. Over the weeks, Greg had noticed that Nick had started to hang out with him more and more. They talked about precious nothing, and yet just the caring look in Nick's eyes had the power to twitch Greg between the legs. On some level he knew he loved Nick. Not as a brother, as a lover, and he was pretty sure Nick was feeling the same. The problem was he was going to yet another preparatory school, so his time with him again was limited. Even so, Greg still enjoyed the attention Nick gave him.

Recently, Nick had been very turned on by Greg. It wasn't the first time he had thought about Greg in inappropriate ways. It most certainly was not going to be the last time he thought of Greg as more than a friend. And yes, this little trip Nick wanted to get a little bit closer to Greg. Now that he was certain he was attracted to Greg, he had been wanting to spend an incredible amount of time with him. They rode slowly across the cotton field as they made their way back towards the waterhole. Dismounted and sitting in the sand, Nick made sweet small talk with Greg.

Nick told him about the school and about how no one really understood him. Greg could relate to it, because he had just started his secondary school this past year and felt exactly the same way. All the kids knew each other pretty well and there was Greg, kind of like the odd man out. Yet, there was nothing new about it.

They baited sticks again, sunk them into the water and fished for a while not catching anything. They talked and scooted closer until their eyes linked.

"You know something," Nick's eyes smiled softly into Greg's. Attraction grew in his chest and in his pants. His eyes shut thinking about it, and he knew it was the perfect time to see if Greg felt the same way he did.

"No Nick, I don't know anything," answered Greg, now looking straight to Nick's eyes.

"You are an incredible person." Nick's eyes never drifted away. They remained locked onto Greg's soft brown lust-filled eyes.

"I, I am?" choked Greg, who really couldn't believe that anyone would ever have thought him as incredible. He hadn't even considered himself to be an incredible person. So it just mystified him that someone else would think he was. But the way Nick was looking at him, and the way his body was close to his, made him feel very conflicting thoughts in his head.

"Yeah," said Nick softly. "Simply amazing."

Nick's body moved still closer to Greg's and he took his hand before shutting his eyes and gently touching his lips to Greg's perfectly slender pink lips.

To Be Continued...