Healing Birch

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Birch didn't spend the money his father had left him for dinner. Instead, he and Lawrence shared some bread and butter by the fireplace, and later feasted on pound cake cubes for dessert. Later, Birch dug out the cigar box from underneath his father's bed, lit one up and offered another to Lawrence. "I don't smoke, Birch," Lawrence said. "My pa says that it's bad for you, and can make your lungs sick."

Birch sighed. "I know sweetheart, I'm only having one." He put his lips to the end of the cigar and inhaled deeply, and the fragrant scent of menthol filled the room. They were curled up on Birch's bed. Lawrence lay on his back, and Birch's head was rested on his chest. 

"My pa also said that if I smoked them cigars, nobody would wanna kiss me," Lawrence whispered. Birch looked up at him, offended. "Does this mean you don' wanna kiss me?"

"No, of course not!" Lawrence replied quickly. "I would always kiss you, no matter what."

Birch smirked. "Prove it."

With that, Lawrence pressed a brief kiss on Birch's lips, and was surprised when he seemed disappointed. "How 'bout another one?" Birch whispered. "Make it longer this time." Lawrence did as he was told. This time Birch placed his hand on Lawrence's cheek. 

Lawrence started feeling a strong sense of passion. He moaned as Birch's tongue slipped between his lips, and his fingertips lightly slid down his neck to his chest. He gave in to Birch's taste, and started caressing his back, his hand traveling lower and lower, until he remembered what that white girl had done to Birch previously. With that, he jerked his mouth away from his. 

This surprised Birch. "What's wrong?"

Lawrence blushed. "I didn't think that you'd want me to touch you anyplace, especially after what she did to you...."

Birch held his lover's face in his hands. "It's alright Lawrence," he said affectionately. "I like the way your hands feel on my skin."

Lawrence smiled, reassured. He kissed Birch again, and his fingertips carefully touched Birch's thighs, sliding upward toward his hips, and he carefully moved his hand up Birch's shirt to feel his body. 

Birch laughed quietly, a smile spreading across his lips. He laid down on his back, and Lawrence straddled him. He massaged the back of Lawrence's thighs, then down to his calves, and with a little over confidence he slid his hands up to his buttocks. Lawrence gasped, surprised at first, but he laughed and appreciated Birch's playfulness. "I sure would love to eat some good sausage right now," Birch whispered seductively. 

This surprised Lawrence. "What?"

"I'll be right back," Birch said. He gently pushed his lover off of him and tapped him on the nose. Lawrence giggled. Birch left the room and headed toward the kitchen. Lawrence was excited but nervous. Was he really about to lose his virginity? In this place?

After a few minutes, Birch called for him. Nervously, Lawrence unbuckled his belt and hoped he was clean down there before he headed to the kitchen. Rather than finding Birch ready to perform oral sex, he found him sitting before a fire in the fireplace, roasting hot dogs. "Want one?" Birch asked.

With that, Lawrence burst out laughing, and Birch smiled. "What's so funny?" he asked.

"I thought that you wanted something else," Lawrence replied. He suddenly remembered his pants were undone. Quickly he started to redo them, but it was too late. Birch had noticed.

"Oh, I think I know what you thought," Birch said playfully. "You thought I wanted to make love to you, right?"

Lawrence had stopped laughing now. "Oh, uh, I'm sorry if you thought I meant-"

"No, it's alright," Birch purred. "If you want me to, I will."

Lawrence gazed at him for a couple seconds, hesitating. Did he want to make love with Birch? He did know that lovemaking felt really good, but only if you were ready. He decided that seventeen wasn't ready, and refused Birch's offer. He also refused Birch's offer for any sausages.

Birch feasted on sausages until he was stuffed. He then snuggled up in his bed with Lawrence in his arms, and slept peacefully for about four hours. That was before he was awakened by horrible cramps in his stomach, followed by foul tasting burps that reminded him of rotten eggs and decaying meat. Finally, he was vomiting profusely. He tried to keep his symptoms quiet from Lawrence, but his vile wretches awoke him. 

Rubbing his eyes, Lawrence went into the bathroom to see what all the comotion was about, and was nearly knocked down by the horrific stench of rotten eggs. He pinched his nostrils shut, and found Birch with his face in the toilet. "What's wrong?" he asked and crouched to Birch's level. 

"I'm sick, Lawrence," Birch moaned. He turned his head to face him. His skin looked deathly, and his eyes were sunken and dull. Lawrence's eyes widened. "Okay, I-I'll be right back," he stammered. He wet a washcloth and gave it to Birch, then went into the kitchen to make a remedy of cold sugar water (a remedy Conroy Addams himself would administer to his ailing son).

Lawrence then led Birch into the living room and laid him on the couch, and held the cup of sugar water to Birch's lips. "This'll make you feel better," he told him. "My pa used to give this to me all the time when I was throwing up."

"Thank you," Birch whispered raspily and took a tiny sip of the remedy. "You're so kind, Lawrence."

Lawrence smiled. He stroked Birch's hair and brought him the garbage pail for vomiting episodes, and in between them he tried to lull Birch to sleep by reading book passages to him.

Eventually, Birch was asleep on the couch. Lawrence smiled, happy to see him out of his misery. "Good night, my handsome man," he said softly and kissed him on the forehead. He went to Birch's bedroom and crawled into the bed, deeply inhaling Birch's scent in the sheets. With pleasant thoughts in his mind, he fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

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A/N

God almighty, sulfur sickness really is the worst x_x poor Birch...

Anyway, sorry I haven't been updating this for a while. I've kind of lost ambition :C But I will try to get this finished. Thanks for staying with me ^3^

-BR

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