They performed emergency surgery on Alex the Sunday night, June 21st, that we took him to the hospital. He was eighteen, and could prove it with his driver's license, so he could sign the necessary papers for himself. He was adamant about us not contacting his parents, and we honored his wishes. They had to repair a vein to his left kidney so he wouldn't bleed to death, and the doctor said it was a miracle he had lasted as long as he had. That was scary. Tim and Kyle were total troopers. They put him in intensive care after the surgery, but he was really in no danger by then. Apparently ICU was standard procedure for anybody who had major organ surgery. One of us was at the hospital pretty much around the clock, although Tim and Kyle did most of the duty. One of the nurses was a girl I had known in college. She and I had worked together at the restaurant in Tallahassee, and we renewed our friendship. "Kevin, do you know who Peek-a-boo Street is?" "The skier," I asked. "Yeah. Did you know she's a nurse and runs an intensive care unit," Diana asked. "No, I didn't know that. I guess Olympic athletes have real lives apart from their sports, though," I said. "Yeah, they do. At her hospital, they call her unit the Peek-a-boo ICU." I burst out laughing. "No, they don't," I said. "She isn't really a nurse, is she?" "I don't know, but I heard that joke on Car Talk on NPR during the Olympics. I've told it a million times since then. Do you know Click and Clack, the Tapper brothers? The Car Guys?" "Yeah, very well," I said. "I listen to them almost every Saturday, when I'm running errands. They're hilarious." "I know," she said. Then she got a lot more serious. "Kevin, why do you have to be gay?" That really took me aback. How did she know? Why did she care? "I guess it's because that's the way God wanted me," I said. "Oh, I know. I'm not putting you down. But, Kevin, I'm so fucking single. I think you and I could have hit it off, under other circumstances," she said. "Diana, that's a real compliment, and thank you. But that's not going to happen, you know?" "Oh, I know. I've been talking to Tim and Kyle, both of whom are wonderful and think you and your partner are right off Mount Olympus, to keep the Olympic theme going. You know they worship you and Rick, don't you?" "Yeah, I think we know that," I said. "They were our first two boys, and nobody will ever replace them in our hearts." It suddenly dawned on me how she knew I was gay. "Well, they're treasures, for sure," she said. "So, are we going to still be friends when this is over?" "Absolutely. I didn't know you lived here," I said. "This is my home town. I didn't know where else to go," she said. "You're doing well here, though, right?" "Oh, yeah. The job is great and just what I wanted. I've dated some, you know, but I need a group. I mean, my parents are here, but both of my sisters are married and gone away. People I was close to in high school have vanished. I don't know." "We have some straight friends, but they're basically married couples. Most of our other friends are gay men," I said. "I don't give a shit," she said. "I want friends. People I can care about and who will care about me. I don't care if they're straight, bi, or gay." "Would you come to a swimming party with a pool full of naked guys," I asked. "In a heartbeat," she said. "You think I haven't seen those things before?" I laughed. I gave her my business card that had all my numbers and addresses on it, professional and personal. "I'll give you a call soon," I said. "I'll be waiting." She gave me her card, too. * * * Rick and I also took our turns staying home from work with Alex, and I spent the better part of my day getting to know him. It was almost a full week after his surgery, and he was feeling pretty good by then. He had trouble finding a comfortable position, sometimes, because of the incision, but that was minimal by then. "How you feeling, man," I asked when he came downstairs in the morning. Everybody else was already gone for the day. "I feel pretty good, thanks. How about you," he asked. "Not bad. Can I get you some juice?" He wasn't allowed to have coffee or anything else that contained caffeine, but that was only a temporary inconvenience. "Yeah. Thanks," he said. Alex had obviously come from a home where people were polite to one another, at least verbally. "We haven't really had a chance to talk," I said. "We really don't know very much about one another." "I know. I know that you and Rick must be, like, saints or something," he said. I laughed. "That's because you don't know what goes on in the bedroom," I said. He chuckled politely. "Tell me about yourself," I said. "There's not that much to tell, really. I'm an only child. My parents divorced when I was five, and my mom raised me for a few years by herself. She remarried when I was twelve. We live in a suburb of New York City on Long Island. It's a nice enough town, I guess. I graduated high school in January, and I've been working part time since then. I was supposed to start community college in September, but I guess that won't happen now. What else do you want to know?" "You know we're all gay, but what about yourself? Gay? Straight?" "How about bi," he said. "Bi works," I said. "I guess I'm bi, but I'm in a guy phase right now," he said. "What do you mean," I asked. "Well, I've been attracted to girls in the past, but right now only guys seem to really do it for me, you know? When I see you and Rick together, or Kyle and Tim, or Jus and Brian, I guess I want to be just like that." "Well, if you hang around here, you'll probably meet some nice kids. I don't want to pry, but have you, er, ever . . ." "No. I'm a total virgin with both sexes. I'm only eighteen," he said. "Hey, man, if you were forty and told me that, my reaction would be the same. I'd say so what? Nobody here is going to tease you about that or think less of you for it." "I know. That's one reason I feel so comfortable here. You guys are just so incredibly nice to me, and to each other," he said. "You guys are so accepting." "We try to be," I said. "How did you get hurt?" "Do we have to talk about that," he asked. "No, but the doctor said there is no way it could have been an accident. Somebody did that to you, and that person or those people ought to be brought to justice," I said. I could tell he was thinking about that last statement of mine, as though he had never really considered his beating to be a crime. "It would kill my mom," he said. "Did your mother do that to you," I asked, incredulously. "Oh, no. Not at all. It was my step-father, her husband. This isn't the first time, but it will damn sure be the last time," he said with passion. "You ran away because of it, didn't you?" "Yeah. I decided letting him do that to me was bullshit, and I got out of there. I was in pretty severe pain, too, but I got out. And I'm never going back," he said, adamantly. "I can't say that I blame you," I said. "Do you want to press charges? Did he do it because of your sexuality?" "No, to the sexuality question. He doesn't know about me. Nobody but you guys knows about that. He just hated me since he first met me, I guess. He wasn't drunk or anything, when he did it, either. You read about guys getting drunk and beating up the kid. That wasn't it. This particular time I had used his car, with permission, and had forgotten to put gas in it. He didn't run out or anything. It was just lower than when I had used it. A quarter of a tank of gas? Hell, I'll kick his kidney out. That's fair, isn't it?" There was bitter irony in his voice. I couldn't begin to understand how a mind like his step-father's must work. "How did your mother react to all of this," I asked. "She didn't know. He told me that he'd kill me if I ever told her, and I didn't tell. A few times I had broken bones because of what he had done to me, and there was no hiding that. I made up stories about bike accidents or football injuries at p.e. Stuff like that, to make it seem real." I had a hard time believing his mother didn't suspect something, but his illusion that she didn't know was too important to him for me to shatter it. "Do you have any money," I asked. "I knew you were going to get to that. I'll pay you back somehow, Kevin. I know you've spent a bundle on me, and I'll pay it." "Alex, that wasn't why I asked that question. You actually had insurance. Did you know that? That covered most of it. Plus, Rick and I don't need and don't want your money, son." "No, I didn't realize I had insurance," he said. "Well, you did. You had an insurance card in your wallet. I'm sorry I had to go through something that personal, but they needed your driver's license and insurance information. You had both," I said. "That's okay that you went through my wallet. Did you notice the condom I had in there?" He was smiling a bit when he asked that question. "Er, yeah. You shouldn't keep used condoms, Alex," I said. He laughed pretty hard, and I think it hurt him a little. "I got that thing when I was in the eighth grade," he said. "It's probably no good anymore, but I flashed it many times to prove I was ready for whatever came up." Then it was my turn to laugh. "Pretty good trick," I said. "I'll bet at least fifty percent of the high school boys in America have condoms in their wallets for exactly the same reason." "I know. All my friends did. Like having a condom in your wallet made you a man or something," he said. "When we first got them, half of us didn't have dicks big enough to fill one up." I laughed. "Back to my question, though. Do you have any money?" "Just what's in my wallet. I think it's about two fifty. I had four hundred when I left, but just eating on the trip took that much," he said. "Well, you don't need any money while you're here with us. Except spending money for when you feel good enough to go out and do something. As soon as you're ready, I'll fix you up with a job. What kind of work had you been doing?" "I was a clerk in a drug store," he said. "Not exactly an executive-level position." "No, but it was honest work. You were honest, I hope." "Yeah, I'm the honest type," he said, and I believed him. "Although I did read the magazines without buying them. Even the ones in the shrink wrap." I laughed. Rick had recently put magazine stands in four of the larger gift shops, and he said the plastic wrap on the dirty books was absolutely no barrier to in-store reading. He stocked a full array of titles, including gay magazines, and the gay ones were selling nicely. I had pretty much assumed the Internet had rung the death knell for print pornography, but evidently I was wrong. "Do you want something to eat," I asked Alex. He wasn't a big breakfast eater, but I thought he might like some toast or something. "No, thanks. I think I'm supposed to take some medicine, though," he said. "Oh, shit! I forgot all about that," I said. He laughed. I got his medicine for him. "There are only three more in the bottle," I said. "I guess today is the last day for the meds." "Yeah, unless he gives me some more this afternoon," he said. "Do you have a doctor's appointment today," I asked. "Yeah. He's going to take the stitches out today. It's at one o'clock," he said. "That's good. Has it itched," I asked. "Something awful," he said. "That's good. That means it's healing," I said. "I know," he said. "It'll be a week this coming Sunday." That day was Friday, and it had been almost a week since the surgery. "Do you want to lay out by the pool," I asked. "Yeah, that would be good. Kevin, I can manage on my own, you know," he said. "If you want to go into work or something, I'll be okay." "How will you get to the doctor? Besides, I'm enjoying being here with you," I said. His face was a sunrise of a grin when I said that. We went out onto the patio, and we each took a book. I was reading Me Talk Pretty One Day, by the gay writer David Sedaris. I had heard Sedaris on National Public Radio several times, and his voice was so distracting that I didn't really think he was funny. In print, he was hilarious. I'm talking gasping-for-breath-because- I'm-laughing-so-hard hilarious. Alex was reading Twelve by Nick McDonell. Nick had written that book as his "summer job" when he was seventeen, and I had swallowed it whole the night it arrived from Amazon. Alex and I both got naked to sunbathe. I put sunscreen on the parts under my bathing suit that weren't as tanned as the rest of me, and I insisted Alex do the same thing. All he would need was a big sunburn-swollen dick, on top of everything else. We spent the next couple of hours reading and roasting. I was one of those kinds of readers who wanted to share what I was reading with whoever happened to be around. Rick hated it when I read a funny book in bed because I would constantly read passages aloud to him. He would either be reading himself or trying to get to sleep, and my oral reading was annoying in either case. He was slowly breaking me of that habit (mainly by punching me or kicking the shit out of me whenever I did it), but I indulged myself that day with Alex. Unlike the love of my life, though, Alex actually seemed to enjoy what I read to him, and he and I laughed out loud several times at what Sedaris had written. The doctor's appointment that afternoon was a big success. He took the stitches out, or at least the physician's assistant did, and the doctor told him he wanted to see him again in six weeks. He said that, based on the x-rays, everything inside was exactly like it was supposed to be, and he told Alex he could go back to his regular diet of caffeine products, if he wanted to. I took Alex to the Goodson Building, and I had him fill out an application for employment. He seemed slightly in awe of the place and of my standing in the company, but he really didn't say much about that. When he was finished, I hunted up Rick, and the three of us went down to the coffee shop on the first floor to celebrate Alex's discharge by the doctor with a cup of coffee. "God, this coffee is good," Alex said. Rick and I both grinned at him. He was really a cute kid, and we both liked him a lot. "The only thing that would be better is to have a cigarette with it," he said. I knew the pleasures of a cigarette with a cup of coffee. I pulled my pack out of my pants pocket and tossed it on the table in front of him. "Help yourself, Bubba," I said. "You're a big boy. You can smoke, if you want to." "No. I quit a month ago," he said. He picked up the pack, though, and turned it around in his hand. "Well, maybe just one," he finally said, and took one out. Rick and I both laughed at how cute he was. I gave him my lighter, and I lit up as well. Later that night in bed, Rick said, "I think we've got another one." I knew he was talking about Alex, and he knew I knew. "Yeah. Are you getting tired of this? Taking these kids in?" "Where the hell else is he going to go, Babe? Did he tell you his story today?" "Yeah. Did he tell you?" "I know the injuries were an attack, not an accident," he said. "His step-father did it to him. He thinks his mother doesn't know, but apparently that guy has abused Alex for years." "Goddamn it," Rick said. "Jesus Christ! How can people do that to kids?! That makes me want to get in that car out there and drive to New York to kick the fucking shit out of that bastard. His own fucking kid!" "You make me so proud of you," I said. "Kevin, that might be the ultimate non sequitur," he said. "Why did you say that?" "Because of how strongly you feel about the kids." He grinned at me. "Oh. I thought maybe you had been toking some crack, or something," he said, laughing. "No. The only crack cocaine I've ever had is that stuff Kyle made tonight. Was that stuff good, or what?" "I know, and I want another handful right now. I think we ate it all, though," Rick said. Kyle had made a mixture of lightly-salted peanuts, raisins, and regular M&M's, and we had gone after that stuff like vultures. It was fun to watch. At first, everybody got just a little bit to be polite when he passed it around. After they tasted it, though, people were taking double handfuls. The tastes of those three ingredients were created by God to go together, and the texture in your mouth was just as good as the taste. "I'd like to have some right now, too," I said. "You know that candy dish on the coffee table in the den? We have trouble keeping it filled as it is. With that stuff in it, it would never be full," he said. "Do you remember the night he made that really salty popcorn with Snickers bars cut up in it? My God! That was so good," I said. "I know. I want some of that, too, right now." "Let's go see what we can find," I said. Rick and I got up stark naked and went into the kitchen. Who should we find there, also stark naked, but Justin and Brian. "Hi," Rick said out loud. "God!" Justin said pretty loud. "You scared the shit out of me." All four of us were laughing. "What are you guys doing down here," I asked. "We're looking for more of that stuff Kyle made tonight," Brian said. "Did you like that?" Rick grabbed Brian in a big hug around his shoulders. "That's what we're looking for, too, Bubba," Rick said. "But we think it's all gone." All of us laughed again. "How does he come up with shit like that," Justin asked. "Jus, you know him as well as anybody does. How do you think he comes up with it?" "I don't know. Do you remember when he made the popcorn . . ." "And Snickers," Rick said. "Oh, God, yes," Jus said. "I think the stuff tonight was better, but that popcorn stuff gives me a craving just thinking about it." "Did you know that Kyle doesn't like raisins? He told me one time that they remind him of dried up ticks, like you pick off a dog," Brian said. "He ate some tonight, though." We all laughed. We had been looking in the cabinets as we were talking, and we didn't come up with any of the ingredients for anything we had been talking about. "Let's have cereal," I said. I got out four bowls and a fresh box of Cinnamon Crunch Crispix. The four of us polished off that whole box and a half gallon of milk. Kyle had bought that cereal because he loved it, but that was too damn bad. It was gone, and it was all his fault for treating us so good. "What was that stuff tonight called," Rick asked. "I asked him. He didn't have a name for it," I said. "He just said 'M&M's, raisins, and peanuts.'" "That figures," Jus said. "I wonder if he invented it." "Maybe, maybe not, but I'd never had it before," I said. "We can make it just for the four of us, if we have to," Rick said. We all laughed. It was time for bed.
When Tim and I met that boy in the Publix parking lot, I could tell he was a good guy. That's not one hundred percent foolproof, but you can usually look at somebody and tell about them. He looked like a scared puppy to me, and I'm partial to puppies, anyway, canine or otherwise. We took Alex home, and he wanted a shower. Truth be known, he needed one. Bad. I had spotted those bruises on his legs in the parking lot of that grocery store, and I wanted to see if he had any more. I made Tim take a shower with him and me because I thought he would be skittish if it was just me. He boned up big and hard when he saw us, so I figured him for a member of our team, without him saying it. Maybe not, but probably so. I checked out those bruises on his body, and I looked at Tim a few times to see if he saw them, too. He did. He squirted out a little piss in the shower, as guys will do, and it was fire engine red. That could only be blood. I got Kevin in there to look at him, and we ended up taking him into town to the hospital. We had an emergency station on the beach, but Kevin wanted a big hospital, with real doctors, not PA's. Those PA's were good, but they couldn't cut him open out on the beach, if that's what he needed. Turned out, that's what he needed. We took turns staying home with him after he got out of the hospital, and I took the first day. He couldn't shoot pool or play ping pong or shoot hoops or any of that stuff. In fact, he stayed in bed almost all day. He slept a good bit, and he and I watched TV in his room when he was awake. I was bored to death the whole damn day, especially when he was sleeping, but I had it to do, so I did it. He was in the study room downstairs where we had put Chris. That turned out to be a damn handy room. He started getting better pretty fast, though. The next day when I came home from work, he was out in the den. He kept getting stronger and better every day after that. He walked sort of funny at first because of his operation, but he got okay pretty quick. Alex was a really nice guy. He said he was bisexual, meaning he could go for a boy or a girl. I could sort of relate to that. I knew I was gay and all, but I knew I could have sex with a girl, if I had wanted to. I didn't think that boy was really bisexual, though. I thought he was gay. He was the kind who might not suck a dick, but he would sure hold it in his mouth till the swelling went down. But that was okay with me. I didn't care if he was totally straight. He was somebody who needed help right then, and I'd make sure the boys were there for him, regardless of his sexual orientation. That was the thing about us. We didn't care. When Saturday rolled around, Alex already had his stitches out, and he could go in the pool. We had a crowd of guys over, as usual. Tim and Rick and I went surfing. Everybody else went skiing, of course, but I didn't think it was a good idea for him to try to get up. He knew something about driving a ski boat, though, so he and Jeff and Justin took turns doing that. "You guys have a lot of friends, it seems," he said, after I had come home from the beach. "Yeah, we do. Most of them are gay, but some are straight. Do you have a lot of friends at home?" "Yeah, I have some," he said. "My best friend is a girl. Savannah. I miss her, too. Do you think I could call her sometime?" I handed him my cell phone. "Call her right now, if you want to," I said. "It's long distance," he said. "Duh!" That made him laugh. He had a cute laugh, too. In fact, he was a cute boy. He and his friend talked on the phone. I tried not to listen, but I heard him tell her about getting the shit kicked out of him and needing surgery to repair his kidney vein. He told her about living with us. They talked for about a half hour, and I was glad he touched base with her. "Was she okay," I asked. I really didn't care, but I thought I should say something. "Yeah. She was fine," he said. He said it in a pretty sad voice, though. I was a little worried about him. I mean, he had been through a lot, without benefit of being around people he knew. I put my arm around him to show him I was with him and wanted to support him. "Let's go inside," I said. We went into the house and into his room. He was still downstairs in the study, but we were getting ready to move him up to the third floor into one of those empty rooms up there. I pulled him down next to me on the sofa, and he snuggled against me. Then he started to cry. "Let it out, buddy," I said. He cried for a good ten minutes, and he got his tears all over me. That was okay, I guess, because I wasn't wearing a shirt. In fact, all I had on was my Speedo and some flip flops. Oh, and a baseball cap. I almost always have a cap on. I held him like he was a little kid whose friends had just been mean to him. He needed me, or somebody, anyway, and I wanted him to know I'd be right there for him. "Do you want to talk," I asked. "You guys have been so good to me," he said. "I feel so worthless, Kyle. Everything and everybody I've ever known all my life is gone now. I just don't know what to do." "It was hard talking to your friend, huh?" "Yeah." He sighed heavy, and I thought he was going to cry again. He didn't, though. "She was crying for me on the phone, and it was all I could do to hold back the tears, too," he said. "Is she your girlfriend?" "No. I've never had a girlfriend. But she's my best friend, and I love her," he said. "And I probably won't ever see her again." That's when he started crying again. "You know what, Alex? That's not true, man. You'll see her again. I know you will," I said. "Maybe," he said. "But I'm not ever going back there, Kyle." "I can understand that. Do you think you should call your mom?" "No. I couldn't handle that right now," he said. "Maybe in a week or something, but not now." I started rubbing his back gently with the palm of my hand. I know he needed physical contact, but I didn't want to do anything that would make him hard. Or make me hard, for that matter. I thought a backrub was okay, though. "Kyle, what you're doing really feels good, but it's turning me on," he said. "Oh, Alex, man! I didn't want to do that to you, man," I said. I took my hand off him. "It's okay, Kyle. I know you didn't. It's me, man, not you," he said. "I'm so horny, anything turns me on. Don't stop." "No, I can't do that, Alex. Knowing I'm turning you on is going to turn me on, and nothing can happen, okay?" "Do you think I'm attractive? You know, in a sexual way," he asked. I didn't know where that was headed, but I promised myself I'd be real careful. "Yeah, I think you're attractive in a sexual way. You're a good-looking guy, well built and all. Why wouldn't I think you're attractive," I asked. "Last weekend when we were in the shower with Tim, right before you guys took me to the hospital, I got an erection. Neither you nor Tim did, though. I thought maybe you thought I was repulsive, or something," he said. He said that real shy, like he was totally vulnerable, or something. "Oh, no, Alex. Not at all, man. You could turn me on that quick, if I let myself go," I said, snapping my fingers. "I don't get hard every time I see another guy's erection. They happen all the time around here, and I'd be hard all the time, if I did. I used to, but it doesn't happen like that any more. Or at least not very often. Besides, I was real concerned about all your bruises. I knew that one in the small of your back looked bad, and I was worried about it." "I've thought about you guys not getting hard a lot all week," he said. "I think you and Tim are totally hot." "Thanks. You're hot yourself, man," I said. I had been doing everything I knew how to do to keep from getting hard, short of walking out of the room. I sure didn't want to give him false hope or anything like that. He was cute, but there was no way in hell I would have sex with him. "Are you feeling better," I asked. "Yeah, but don't go, okay," he said. "Okay," I said. Shit, this isn't easy, I thought. "Are you and Tim in love? I mean, you look like you are. Are you?" "Completely and totally," I said. "Is that why you didn't want me to get aroused by you," he asked. "Yeah, it is. It wouldn't be fair to you if I let that happen. Tim and I sometimes fool around with Jus and Brian, and even other guys, but it's just playing. We never do it when it's just one of us, and we never do anything serious with them." "What do you mean by serious," he asked. "Well, we never suck them or let them suck us. And certainly not fuck. Or even kiss, except maybe the way you would kiss your brother," I said. "How does it happen," he asked. "Well, maybe we'll be watching a movie, you know? A porno? You know, everybody gets turned on, and we play with one another. Usually, it's just me with Tim and Justin with Brian. We've touched each other, though, and even jerked each other off. Just that," I said. "Do you fuck Tim, or does he fuck you," he asked. "Well, both," I said. "Cool. Does it hurt to get fucked?" "No. It feels good. We wouldn't do it if it hurt," I said. "How old were you when you realized you were gay," he asked. "Well, I sort of realized it gradually, but I guess I finally really knew when I was about twelve. I didn't tell anybody for a long time, and then I told my parents, when I was fourteen," I said. "Did they freak out?" "Not really. At least not in front of me," I said. "My dad told me a few days later that my mom had cried about it, but she didn't cry in front of me." "Your dad told you that? Was he trying to make you feel bad about it?" "No. I asked him a few days later how he felt about it. I mean, I couldn't tell there was any difference in how he felt, but I just wanted to make sure. He told me that what I had done had taken a lot of courage and character, and he thanked me for trusting them so much. That was it," I said. "They thought my older brother would get married and have them some grand kids, but you know what? He turned out gay, too." He chuckled. "He's dead now," I said. "Your brother is dead? Was he killed in a wreck or something?" "Naw. He died from some drug he was given in a hospital. He had a bad headache, and Jeff took him to the hospital. Two days later, he was dead." "Jeff? This Jeff here," he asked. "Yeah, they were lovers and partners. Jeff is really like a brother to me," I said. "How old were you the first time you had sex," he asked. "Sixteen. It was with Tim, too. He's the only one I've ever had serious sex with, and we're going to be together for the rest of our lives." "Have you two made, like, vows or something," he asked. "Not yet, but we're planning on it. When we're older, though. Not right away. Have you had sex yet?" "Not yet. I want to, though," he said. "You might meet somebody at work. You're going to be in housekeeping, right? There are mostly women in that department, but a guy might come along that you like and that likes you. I'll keep an eye out for you," I said. "Thanks, Kyle." He paused. "Kyle, do you consider me a friend?" "Of course I do, goof. What else would you be?" "Do you think the other guys think of me as a friend?" "Hell, yeah. We don't know you too well yet, but we all like you. Kevin and Rick probably consider you another foster son. They sure act like they do," I said. "They're incredible. All of you are incredible. I feel so lucky," he said. "I think we all feel lucky to have one another," I said. "Are you ready to go back outside? I'm glad we had a chance to talk." "Okay. Before we go, though, can I, er, . . ." "What," I asked. "Can I kiss you? Like a brother?" I smiled at how cute he said that. I didn't wait for him to kiss me. I leaned over and kissed him on the lips, and we went out to play with the others. * * * "I had a long talk with Alex today," I said to Tim. We were in bed, and I was holding him in our favorite position. I was on my back, propped against the headboard, and he was on my chest and between my legs. I was rubbing his chest. We had made love once already, and I knew we'd do it again. We were just sort of taking a break. "About what," he asked. "About him, mostly. He called a friend of his, and he got real emotional. He cried." "I don't know how you can handle people when they're like that, Babe. But you always do," he said. "I started rubbing his back, and he started getting hard." "Is this going to upset me, Kyle?" I laughed, and then he knew it wouldn't. "No. I stopped doing it, as soon as he told me that. He wanted me to keep on, though, but I didn't. I don't think he wanted to do anything with me. I think he just wanted to get hard, you know?" "Yeah, right. Nobody would ever want to fuck you, Kyle," he said. "Are you jealous?" "Am I down there kicking in his other kidney?" "You wouldn't do that," I said. "If somebody was trying to seduce you, and you didn't want it, I damn sure would do it. You're not the only guy around here who can get mad, you know." "What if I wanted him to seduce me?" "Then I'd kick your kidney in," he said. I laughed, and he did, too. He started rubbing the insides of my thighs, and that was sure to get me hard. I started playing with his nipples. We kept that up for a few minutes. "You know I would never do that, don't you?" "Do what," he asked. "Want some other guy to seduce me," I said. "Yeah, of course I know it. With you, it just as likely would be a girl as another guy," he said. "What do you mean?" "Aren't you curious about what it would be like to fuck a girl," he asked. "Yeah. Aren't you?" "Slightly, but only in the abstract," he said. I laughed. "I don't know that much about straight sex, Babe, but I don't think you fuck 'em in the abstract. I think it's in the pussy," I said. He laughed, and then I laughed at how cute he was. "Babe, it's almost like the two of us are really two people, you know? One for each other and one for everybody else." "I've often thought that. Nobody would believe how gentle and considerate you really are, or how guilty," he said. "What am I guilty of?" "Nothing. That's just it. Every time something happens like what happened with Alex this afternoon, you tell me about it. You didn't do anything wrong, but you had to confess, anyway." "Would you have told me about that," I asked. "No. It wouldn't have occurred to me to tell you," he said. "I know you wouldn't care about that, any more than I do." "Would you care if I slept with a girl," I asked. "If it was just out of curiosity, or if you were drunk or something, not one bit, Babe. I know you're mine. Just don't tell me about it, if it happens one day, okay?" "You're serious, aren't you?" "Yeah, I'm serious. Kyle, I see the way girls look at you and the way they act around you. It wouldn't surprise me if one of these days you give in, that's all. In a moment of weakness, not in some scheme you cook up to get her into bed," he said. "Are you telling me you don't trust me, Tim?" I started to worry a little. "Just the opposite. I trust you completely. I know that if it happens it won't be because you don't love me or anything like that. I know how you feel about me. I trust you enough to know that if you do fuck somebody it won't have anything to do with me, or with us, Babe." I knew he was telling me that stuff to make me feel better, so I wouldn't feel guilty about being attracted to other people. I knew he was motivated by love for me in saying what he did. I think I grew up a little in that bed that night. I knew he was dead right in every word he said. I very well might give in with a girl, under the right circumstances. I had always known that about myself, but I hadn't faced it or accepted it until that night. That whole thing was like some unseen monster in the back of my mind, waiting to pounce on me when I wasn't expecting it. Knowing how Tim felt made it easier for me to face that part of me. I prayed to God that He would make me a faithful husband to Tim, and I also said a prayer to say thanks for giving him to me. We made love a second time that night, and I never felt closer or more at one with him than I did that time. We went slow. He had topped me earlier, and I topped him that time. When I stuck my dick in his ass, I was on emotional overload. For the first time in a long time, I cried because I was so happy to have him. He cried happy tears, too. |