Hadrian's Lover (22 page)

“Wow,” Devon mutters appreciatively. “You can really make out his package in those jeans.” Todd’s hands instinctively drop down to hide himself. Frank also insisted Todd wear a pair of skin-tight jeans with stovepipe pant legs, unnecessarily held up with a hot pink belt to match the T-shirt. To ensure his dominance, the only way people would believe Todd tamed, Frank had also demanded Todd wear Teika’s dog collar made of thick purple leather
with a huge ring for a leash. All of Frank’s boyfriends have worn this collar, even at school. It is like being given his ring or sweater, and it lets everyone else know he, Frank Hunter, is the sole proprietor of this boy.

Frank leans back casually, opens his lap slightly, and pats his left knee. “Ignore him, Todd. Come to Daddy,” he invites seductively, patting his knee a second time. Every word, every action, every physical image must literally reek of sex if he is going to save his best friend. “Come on, Todd,” Frank urges. It is hard for Todd to move, but he manages to release his grip on the wall. Walking is uncomfortable as the tight jeans chafe against him.

“Parade for us,” Devon taunts. “Get him to spin, Frank.” Devon is enjoying the show. Todd can’t even look up to beg Frank not to make him spin around. He just stops and shakes in the center of the room.

“Shut up,” Frank orders Devon. “Don’t worry, baby,” he coos softly. “Just come to Daddy.” Todd slowly begins his death march. “There’s Daddy’s boy.” With Todd standing in front of him, still sheltering himself with his hands, Frank gently turns him around and then roughly pulls him down on his lap. Todd winces.
They have to know he’s in pain
, Frank reminds himself. “
I must be cruel only to be kind,” as Shakespeare aptly put it
. Frank hates treating Todd so roughly, but word has to get out that Todd has been tamed—that he is no longer straight—that Frank has made him one of them. Tears bloom in Todd’s eyes—tears he has been fighting back since he managed to stop the flow after what Frank did to him. Frank gently wipes the tears from Todd’s face, caressing the bruises and his cut, now swelling, lower lip. “Who’s your daddy?” Frank asks in a teasing manner. Frank is now caressing Todd’s legs, squeezing them periodically, and allowing his fingers slowly to climb higher. One of Todd’s hands flaps like a bird with a broken wing in an attempt to arrest Frank’s movements. Frank grips Todd’s hand tightly in his, hard enough to indent Todd’s fingernails into his palm. Lowering his voice so only Todd can hear, Frank whispers, “Answer me.”

Todd mumbles, “You.”

Frank’s whisper becomes threatening, “Louder!”

Obeying, Todd replies, “You, Frank!” a little too loudly, enough to cause raucous laughter from Devon and Roger.

Even Frank joins in with a chuckle as he pats Todd’s head. “Good boy.” Frank kisses Todd as a reward.

Sneering, Devon remains skeptical. “Listen, Frank; play this up all you want, but nobody’s going to believe you planked this cunt-hammer.”

After glaring Devon’s way, Frank turns to look at him. Todd knows exactly what Frank is thinking:
You have to kiss me
. Leaning in to initiate Todd is startled when Frank stops him. “Ah, ah, ah, you didn’t ask.”

A shudder precedes Todd’s request. “Frank, kiss me.”

Slipping one finger into the collar ring, Frank tugs slightly, reminding Todd of his new place in the pecking order. “Say, Frank, may I kiss you, please.” Todd quakes. Unrelenting, Frank warns, “I won’t do it if you don’t beg,” pulling a little harder on the collar ring.

“Frank,” says Todd. Although it is a low whisper, Frank knows Devon can still hear, “may I please kiss you.”

Looking straight at Devon, Frank replies, “Of course you may, baby.” Turning back to look at Todd, Frank waits for him to initiate. When their lips unite Devon and Roger slap hands and clasp fingers.

“By all that’s gay and glorious,” Devon chimes, “I think you’ve really done it.”

Roger, congratulates his brother, “Good work, Frank!”

“Now get the fuck out of here,” Frank orders before he kisses the top of Todd’s head. “My boy and I want a little alone time.”

Devon and Roger leave quickly, but not before Devon can call out one last derogatory remark. “One minute a cunt hammer, and in the very next, Frank’s buggering board.” Chuckling, he adds as he exits, “Impressive.”

“Devon, you can be so crude sometimes,” Roger says as he pulls his mate through the front door.

Frank waits a few moments after the front door closes behind the two young men. Expecting Todd to dart away any moment, he wraps his legs and arms tightly around his friend. He wants so badly to cry, to beg forgiveness, but he knows he can’t. If he is to tame Todd successfully, he can’t back down. Not now. Not ever. Papa Dean taught him that. Frank explains, “We had to do it, Todd; you know that, don’t you?” His muscles begin to shake from holding Todd so tight. “You know that, right?”

Todd gives Frank the answer he knows he wants to hear. “Yes, Frank.” Frank’s relief is audible in his sigh. No longer fearing Todd might try to escape, Frank loosens his grip. He does not release Todd, though, as the need to hold him close is too great. Although Frank tries to hold them back, tears begin to stream down his face. Todd doesn’t even notice; his eyes are glued shut by shame and exhaustion. “This isn’t how I imagined us.” Frank releases one arm to wipe the tears from his face. “I always knew
it’d be you and me one day—but I was willing to wait, till you were ready. I didn’t want to—” He couldn’t say it. “I wanted you to want me, too.”

“Why, Frank?” Todd’s voice is a shattered whisper. “Why did it have to happen?” It was a contemplative moment, solemn and sore with rage.

“Papa Dean was a
strai
,” Frank says, looking down at Todd. “Did you know that?” He harrumphs. “My father tamed him—at a reeducation camp. Dad took a summer job there. That’s where he and Papa Dean met. Said he wanted to do something to help the nation—said he actually believed taming
strais
was essential for national security.” Frank shakes his head at the wonder of it. “Said he had actually fallen for that claptrap.” Resting his head in his free hand, Frank continues, “When I voc’d home, Papa Dean insisted I come straight home. When I got here, Dad was with him; he left work early because this was so important. The two of them sat me down and told me what reeducation camp is like—what had happened to Papa Dean—what will happen to you. They said we needed to make people believe we are a unit—a sexually active unit. That this was something we had to do.” Frank swallows his guilt. His fathers had only said to make people believe they are a unit; they never actually said to “do it.”
But we had to
, Frank reminds himself. Needing justification, he adds,
This was the only way anyone would believe us
. Openly sobbing now, he begs, “Believe me, Todd; it was better this way.”

At this moment, Dean and Geoffrey return home. Because the entry hall opens into the living room, the first thing Dean sees is Todd sitting on Frank’s lap, wrapped in his arms, both boys sobbing. Instinct takes over and he rushes to them. “Frank, Todd, what happened?” Quickly taking in the bruises on both boys’ faces, he demands, “Hadrian’s lover, what happened?” Looking his husband’s way, he exclaims, “Geoffrey, they’ve been beaten!”

Geoffrey moves into the room to stand behind Dean. Frank instantly begins to babble some story about
strai
bashing. Dean cringes as he listens to a gruesome tale about a gang of boys from school jumping Todd at Riverside Park and Frank leaping in to save him. Dean, kneeling in front of the boys, opens his arms to envelop Todd as he slides off Frank’s lap. Papa Dean cradles and rocks the boy like an infant. Geoffrey takes great care to observe the scene before him. Frank is shirtless. Todd is dressed like T’Neal—no, like the way Mike Fulton said he had been dressed that Sunday over three years ago when the boys had first experimented with
sex. “Dean,” Geoffrey places a hand on his partner’s shoulder, “you take care of Todd. I’ll look after Frank.” Frank, Geoffrey also notes, is avoiding eye contact. “Frank,” says Geoffrey, his voice mimicking soft and soothing, but Frank can hear the edge of displeasure. The instant their eyes meet, Frank is conscious of his father’s awareness. His father, Frank rightly surmises, is not as easily overwhelmed by the current circumstances—empathetic, yes; fooled, no. Having borne witness to Dean’s suffering, seeing now Todd crumpled and broken, he wonders at the depth of emotions Dean and Todd are forced to endure. “Frank,” he repeats, “come with me.” As Geoffrey’s eyes brook no opposition, Frank rises and slowly follows his father down the hall and into his bedroom.

After taking in the damage done—the bed curtains ripped off—one of the curtain cords tied to the front right poster—Geoffrey turns and confronts his son. “Tell me what really happened!”

“Tonight’s episode is unique in that the guest I am interviewing is actually present with us on stage. It is with great pleasure that I introduce to my viewers the warden of the Northeast Reeducation Camp, Mr. Gideon Weller. Mr. Weller, thank you so much for taking time out of your rigorous schedule to speak with us tonight.”

“Well, Ms. Eagleton—”

“Please, call me Melissa.”

“All right, Melissa. It is an honor for both myself and for the Northeast Camp that you have offered me this interview.”

“First off, our viewers would like to know what it is you do at the reeducation camp.”

“My job is quite hefty. I oversee all stages of each ward’s transition back into Hadrian society. When they first come to us, many are unruly, undisciplined, angry, and hurtful youth. It is the job of all who work at the reeducation camp from the warden all the way down to the janitorial staff to help encourage these boys to embrace Hadrian’s lifestyle.”

“That must be a very daunting task if they come to you as unruly as you suggest.”

“Indeed it is, and indeed they do. Remember, these are boys who believe they are heterosexual. Many are a two on the Kinsey scale, so we have to help them battle against and then vanquish the stronger heterosexual drive. It is essential we cleanse them of their heterosexual tendencies before we can help them find their inner latent homosexuality.”

“And how is that done?”

“We have a very tight schedule by which the boys must abide. From the minute they wake to the very minute they return to their beds, they are kept active in sports, classes, private counseling sessions, and other activities deemed necessary for their reeducation.”

“How long is their day?”

“Our boys rise at six a.m. and bed down at nine p.m.”

“Nine is a little early, don’t you think?”

“Not after the rigorous day we put them through. By nine o’clock, many of our boys are so tired they collapse as soon as they sink into their mattresses.”

“How long is your day?”

“My day begins at five a.m. I need to wake a good hour before the boys in order to ensure everything is in readiness for the day’s activities. I, and all our staff, then join the wards for breakfast and exercise. As soon as the boys begin class, I head over to my office and continue working through all the paperwork that comes along with each ward, and not just the wards currently in my possession. No, no, no. At the Northeast Camp, we keep track of all our wards after they leave us. We like to know about their successes in life. Husbands report back to us on an annual basis. I enjoy reading those reports most of all. Often, I will share these reports with our new wards so they know the hope and happiness that await them in the future.”

“That sounds wonderful. How uplifting. How inspiring that must be for these young men.”

“For some, yes, depending on what stage of their reformation they are at. It is always delightful, though, when the wards are nearing graduation. These young men truly appreciate news of their predecessors’ fates.”

“So, is that the end of your day, then?”

“Oh, no, no, no, not by any stretch. The morning is barely over for me by this point. I always dine with the boys, as I mentioned—breakfast, lunch, and supper. Everyone in the camp comes together for meals. I like the boys at Northeast Camp to feel like we are a family. As you may know, many of our youth have been disowned by their real families so we embrace them as our own.”

“That is the best way to win our children over, I think.”

“So, after lunch, I will go around the camp and participate in various events. All wards have private sessions with their guardians, and sometimes, the charge, or the ward, needs a third ear to listen and help out with difficulties or concerns.”

“My word, you are a truly amazing man.”

“Thank you, Ms. Eag…Melissa. As I was saying, my days are as full as the boys’ days are. I will sometimes join them in viewing films about the
outside world or help them learn to reject what they perceive as feminine seduction.”

“So far everything suggests an easy time for these young men.”

“Oh, no, no, no. Don’t be fooled. Reeducation for the straight male is never an easy process. Disciplinary measures are often necessary. Remember, heterosexual males are violent by nature, and one is often caught in a situation where offense is the best defense.”

“Of course. Do you suppose it is the same at the young women’s reeducation camp?”

“I have no idea what our female counterparts have to deal with. What I do know is that heterosexual males are among the most volatile and dangerous people in Hadrian. I have never forgotten the brutal attack on the wall over twenty years ago.”

“Oh, yes. That was horrendous.”

“The woman who survived—”

“You knew her?”

“She was my genetic mother. A kinder, more beautiful woman never existed. Those brutal, bloody barbarians, what they did to her—the scars that would never heal. Those bastards—those rapists—those murdering sons of—”

“Of course, of course, what those men did was horrible.”

“They are the epitome of heterosexuality, and they are why we must never allow any of our young men to accept or act upon such unruly physical emotions.”

“No, of course, you are right. I think what our viewers need to know is that the Northeast Camp has one of the highest success rates at retraining and transitioning our wayward young men back into Hadrian society.”

“Yes. I am committed to bringing our boys back to the only truly loving and kind sexual lifestyle. No boy leaves my camp with any inkling of heterosexual tendencies. Until I am one hundred percent certain a ward can live in harmony with Hadrian’s chosen lifestyle, he will not leave the confines of my camp. As long as there is any indication of heterosexual tendencies, I consider him to be a threat to Hadrian’s citizens and our national security.”

“Please explain for our viewers how heterosexuals might affect national security.”

“Heterosexuals need to commune with heterosexuals, so these boys will
do anything in their power to aid the hordes outside our wall to enter into Hadrian. We all know the story of how it was one of our very own soldiers, who had admitted to being straight, who aided the horde that attacked our wall, murdered our men, raped our women, and killed the soul and sanity of my mother. Every heterosexual is a danger to our society. They will try to make contact with the outside world and bring them in to destroy our guarded and cherished lifestyle.”

“No more need be said, Mr. Weller. You are clearly a passionate and dedicated man. Your devotion to the reeducation of our young men and the protection of our cherished society is admirable. And, although viewers, there was never any hard evidence against the accused soldier who also died in the attack, we can surely understand Mr. Gideon Weller’s point of view. Mr. Weller, thank you again for sharing your valuable time on
Salve!
You, sir, are our spotlight of hope!”

Vale!