Page 52 of Troy

About to fall asleep, I roll over to face Rafferty. His eyes slowly open and center on me. I touch my lips to his once and pull away.

“I want you to know that whatever happens tomorrow, and the days after, that this is who we are and this is where we belong.”

“I know, thank you, Troy. Thank you for staying.” Raff whispers.

Awakening in the dark, the stillness of the night calms me but I want more and, twisting in Raff’s warm arms, I kiss him. My tongue slides over his bottom lip, making him mumble and fidget, then his arms tighten their grip on my back. I kiss him again, my fingers slithering up and down his spine.

“I need you, Raff; make love to me?” I plead in his ear as his body reacts to my touch, the pulse and twitch of his dick thickening. “Love me, Rafferty.”

His eyelids flutter as he wakes up. I wrap my leg over his, cupping his ass in my hands. “I need you, Raff.”

Raff rolls over me, his body covering mine, and presses me into the mattress. Slowly, his mouth covers mine, sleepily kissing me. I part my legs and lift my hips as Raff reaches down and eases himself into me. Unhurriedly, he rocks back and forth as our tongues languidly tangle. I can feel my climax building, smoldering steadily inside me. The heat spreads and flows through my nerve endings. My body stiffening, I come. Raff swallows my cries, whimpering as he follows me; the warmth of his release floods me, filling me with peace.

Rolling us onto our sides, I feel him slip from my body, leaving me sated and satisfied. “I love you.” I murmur and kiss him then drift back to sleep, detecting a shift in the bed, I open them again. Raff has gone to clean up; he returns and wipes my stomach with a warm cloth. I think I’m asleep before he gets back in our bed.

Waking up, sunlight filling the room, I see Raff gazing out the window. He seems deep in thought.

“Morning, Raff.” My voice cracks and I clear my throat. “You okay, babe?”

“As much as I can be. What about you?” Raff turns back and makes his way to me. Swinging my legs out of bed, I rise to meet him. Both of us naked, I take his hand and lead him to the shower.

“I don’t know, it feels surreal now. Ask me tonight?” Turning on the shower, we step under the spray. Although we wash each other, neither of us takes it further. It doesn’t last long and we soon step back out and towel off.

Silently, we get dressed, both in new, crisp, black suits. Mine pairs with a charcoal grey shirt and tie, Raff’s a deep burgundy. He looks magnificent: his hair tied back and beard neatly trimmed, he could be a runway model, not the man behind the camera.

Nico and Ryan are already in the kitchen, dressed equally as smart. “Are you sure you want to come?” I ask them.

“Yes, Troy, we’ve told you before. We’re there to support you.” Ryan gets up from the table and pours coffee for us, while Nico finishes breakfast.

“You just want to be another gay couple there to annoy my father.” Raff snorts.

“There’s that as well.” Nico sniggers.

Breakfast passes too quickly and before long we pile into my truck. Raff drives and, parking in the underground car park at Mason’s offices, we ride the elevator up to his office.

“Right, guys, this is what’s happening right now.” Mason flicks on the TV and shows a news reporter commentating on the events taking place outside the courthouse. There must be a hundred people waving hate banners and chanting anti-gay slogans. But what makes me smile is, there seems to be a wall of men and women, all with rainbow flags and Love-is-Love banners, holding them back, outnumbering them at least two-to-one.

“Wow! That’s not what I expected, shit. Now I’m ready to get there; let’s go and lock that bastard up.” I turn to Raff and grin.

“Fuck! I love you so much.” Raff tugs me up against his body and kisses me. “You heard the man, let’s go.”

Smiling broadly, we saunter out and head down to the cars Lucas has laid on for us. I try not to think about them being armor-plated, the fear of someone taking a chance with a gun. Why can’t people live their lives peacefully, without hatred for others who have no bearing on their lives?

The uproar as we climb out of the vehicles shocks me, but the cheers drowning the cries of hatred and damnation. Raff steps next to me and takes my hand; nervous tremors greet my fingers as he links them with his. Mason stands on my other side and Ryan and Nico fall in behind me. Ben and Corrigan get out of the car and join Austin to meet us. I peer around at them and give them a smile. They smile back, not as confidently as I, but the solidarity is indisputable. The buzz of energy coming from our supporters is palpable and I focus on that rather than the death threats being hollered by bigots who have no place in heaven.

We tread in unison to the steps of the courthouse, cameras snapping continuously as we walk past the reporters and TV crews. Mason refuses to answer any of the questions being hurled at us and his giant frame ensures people move swiftly out of his way.

Once inside, we must separate; spinning to Raff, I grasp his face in the palm of my hands, his soft beard rubbing gently into the flesh as he leans into my grip. “I will be fine, I love you, and will speak to you soon.”

Ryan and Nico take their seats behind our bench, I sit between Austin and Mason. Glancing over at the opposition, I find Rafferty’s father staring at me. The hatred in his coal black eyes makes my breath hitch, but I swallow it down and let a small smile cross my lips. I hear his hiss of anger then his lawyer says something sharply to him and he views forward again.

Mason informed me earlier we have a very liberal and pro-active judge; the jury, already sworn in, are a sensible selection. It’s only moments later that the order ‘all rise’ is given. My spine steels and my resolve hardens. I take strength from the people around me—my chosen family—I can feel Franco with me, too. The warmth of his love courses through my veins. Eyes bore into me as I begin the fight.

Mason opens and I’m soon in awe of his skill as he paints the scene of how I was coerced into the car, how I was taken to an isolated spot and beaten before being left for dead. All because of one man’s hatred of homosexuality and his hatred for his estranged sons.

Swearing the oath, I watch Mason, and only him, as he talks me through the questions we practiced. Time seems to cease and I do not falter once. The recording of the phone call to Ben causes the people in the gallery, and some of the jury, to cry out; tears showed in the eyes of some of the jury as I looked nervously at each of them. Mason coached me well in when I should be strong and concise, and when I need to draw them into my plight.

After what feels like days, but is only hours, recess is called and we all stand again as the judge exits the courtroom, followed by the jury. My hands shake as I climb down from the witness box but Mason waits for me with a hand on my shoulder and kind words in my ear.

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