At six a.m. sharp the doorbell chimed. Jim rushed to answer it. As he pulled the big door open, he grinned at Nathan and asked, "Did you lose your key?"

"No, I thought I should start off on the right foot and be a little more formal. Not be so pushy." He stepped into the foyer and took Jim into his arms. "Is this being pushy?" he asked as he planted a light kiss Jim's lips.

"Yes-no. Hell, I never said you were pushy." Jim initiated another kiss. Nathan finally broke away.

"Bedroom or kitchen?" he asked.

"Kitchen, Pushy. Coffee's ready, and your breakfast is on the table."

Jim led the way into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Nathan. Nathan looked at the table. It was set with orange juice, milk and a box of Swiss Musili. "I envisioned sausage, and eggs and pancakes slathered with butter and real maple syrup," he said with a look of 'little boy disappointment' on his face.

"I'm sorry I never eat those things. But if that's what you want, I can buy some for tomorrow."

"Jim, I'm kidding. I seldom eat them either. Mostly it's Post Toasties or Cheerios."

"Post Toasties?"

"Alright, Kellogg's Corn Flakes. What's the difference?" he asked as he poured a bowl full. He covered the cereal with milk and dug in.

Jim studiously thought for a moment as if Nathan really did expect an answer. He shrugged. "One's made by Post and the other by Kellogg?" he asked brightly.

Nathan laughed. "You're really astute this early in the morning. What are you up to today?"

"I don't know. I'll probably putter around the yard, arrange for sod. Go looking for a garden shop and buy some plants."

They ate in silence, stealing glances at each other and smiling when getting caught. Nathan picked up his bowl and drained the milk into his mouth and wiped his lips. "Would you like to drive out to Chino Hills with me? We'll only be gone for about three hours."

"Sure, I enjoy spending time with you."

"Do you really, Jim?"

Why Nathan would doubt that, perplexed Jim. He answered without hesitating. "Yes. Yes, I find you warm, loving, and humorous." He got a twinkle in his eye as he smirked. "And you've got a fantastic bod."

"It's wonderful you think that, 'cause I feel the same way about you." Nathan stretched across the corner of the table toward him. Jim met him half way. When they broke the kiss, Nathan stood up.

"We'd better be going. You never know what the traffic is going to be like. Fortunately we don't have to go very far on the 57, but we do have to get through that horrible 57/60 interchange, and that can sometimes take lots of time."

"Let me change and put on some shoes."

Jim scampered up the stairs. Nathan poured himself a half-cup of coffee and wandered into the living room. It was a large airy room, sparsely furnished, in need of painting and decorating. He started thinking of what his collection of Spanish Revival furniture would look like in here. 'Yeah,' he thought, 'that big early California painting hanging over my sofa would look grand over the fireplace. And my furniture would really make this room. Get rid of this new stuff.' He suddenly realized the implications of his thoughts. 'Yes, I think I'm really ready for a complete commitment to him.' Voicing that to himself left him feeling euphoric.

He heard Jim moving around upstairs. Nathan could tell that he had gotten his shoes on. He went back into the kitchen. He placed his cup in the sink, picked up the milk carton and put it in the fridge, then gathered the other dishes off the table, rinsed them and put them in the sink. Jim came into the room, seeing the cleared table he smiled at Nathan. "Thanks, Babe. I'm ready to go," he said, as he picked up the box of cereal and stuck it in the cupboard. He turned and saw that Nathan had a strange expression on his face. "What?"

Nathan shook his head. "No one has ever called me that before."

"Babe? I'm sorry Nathan I didn't realize you would be offended by it."

"Offended by it?" He walked up to Jim and wrapped his arms around him. "I loved it. It sent goose bumps clear down to my toes. Please, don't stop calling me your babe."

"This boy I'm going to see this morning is really a problem. He comes from a well-to-do family. Parents divorced when he was eight. Custody was given to the mother. The father is openly gay, a macho-ass lawyer. Seems to have the opinion that the world is his to fuck. The mother couldn't control the boy by the time he was thirteen. She turned him over to the father. The boy has run away numerous times. He started stealing to support himself. This is the seventh time he has been picked up in as many months. He hates his father. I suspect that somewhere along the way the father buggered him. Of course, the boy hasn't admitted it, but he's sexually aggressive toward the younger boys in the Center. Even though he is only fifteen, he has been placed in with the sixteen and seventeen year olds. He's had several fights since he's been in this time. I keep hoping that I can some how break through his defenses. Cases like this are so heartbreaking. I can see that the kid wants help, but I just have not been able to get through to him."

Jim sat sideways in his seat listening and watching Nathan as he drove and talked. Nathan never took his eyes off the road.

"Isn't what you're telling me confidential like patient to doctor?"

Nathan turned and looked at him sharply. He turned back to the road.

"Except for my conjecture about his dad buggering him it's all public record."

Nathan's tone of voice was a rebuke. Jim turned toward the front, watching the passing cars. A feeling of rejection left him empty, bleak. After a couple of minutes of silence he said, "I was molested when I was fourteen. My uncle did it." He voice was so low Nathan strained to hear what he said. "I never told anyone until I met Ted. He helped me work through my problems with it."

Nathan looked over at Jim. He was huddled in on himself. Nathan reached across and rubbed his neck. "God, Jim, I'm sorry. I apologize for snapping at you."

"It's okay. I shouldn't have questioned your integrity. It's just that it's so personal. I know what the boy is going through."

"Maybe you could help me get through his shell. Come sit in on the session. Your personal insights might be just what is needed. Will you do that for me... for him?"

Jim slowly straightened up and unfolded his arms. His smile was tenuous as he said, "Yeah, if I can help keep this kid from having to go through years of depression and self-hatred like I did, I'll do this. Sure." Then feeling more confident, he grinned at Nathan.

Nathan motioned for Jim to take a seat in the drab, sterile, institutional green room. "Bobby will be here in a couple of minutes."

There was one dull framed print on a wall, and four well-worn armchairs around a beat up table. Jim sat and looked about; it was enough to make anyone feel defeated.

The door opened and a fifteen year old boy, nearly as tall as Jim, shuffled into the room. Jim studied the boy as he slumped into a seat. His intense blue eyes said he didn't trust the two adults in front of him. A shock of unruly black hair hung over his forehead. He couldn't quite figure out what it was about the boy that made him feel slightly panicky.

"Bobby this is Jim, a friend of mine. He is going to see if he can help us to a solution. Jim this is Bobby Baxter."

Jim knew immediately upon hearing the boy's name why he looked familiar. Bobby was his cousin. "Hi Bobby. We have the same last name."

Bobby's eyes lit up as he said, "I have a cousin who lives in L.A. with the same name as yours. I've never met him, though. He moved away when I was little."

Jim shot Nathan a look of consternation. Nathan was nonplussed. He hadn't made the connection of the same last name, but as he looked at Jim and Bobby he could see a definite family similarity. Jim turned back to Bobby. "Are you from Bakersfield?"

"Yeah."

"Were you named after your dad?"

A dark shadow clouded Bobby visage. "Yeah, him and Pop."

"I call my granddad 'Pop' too. Is your grandmother's name Martha?"

"Yes. So are you my cousin, Jim?" Bobby asked.

"That's the way it looks."

"So my Uncle Jim and Aunt Colleen are your parents?"

"Yes," Jim answered. "That makes you and me first cousins." He stood and held his hand out to Bobby. "Nice to meet you, Cuz." Bobby shook his hand and said, "Cool."

Jim looked back at Nathan, who still looked dumbfounded. "Nate, do you think it would be okay if Bobby and I took a stroll out in the yard and got to know each other?" Nathan shook his head to clear his thoughts. He was disconcerted by this turn of events. He'd had no idea that Jim and Bobby could possibly be related. "Sure, of course you can. It will give me a chance to get my thoughts back together."

"Come on, Bobby, let's take a walk."

Once out into the open Jim found he was at a loss of how to talk to Bobby. He had spent years in a state of love/hate toward Robert, Bobby's father. With Ted's help he had gotten over the incidents and basically had forgotten about Robert. Now with meeting his son, Jim found it still painful to revisit.

"Pop told me that you and Robert were close friends when you were young. Do you still like him?"

"I haven't seen your dad in at least eleven years. Why do you call him Robert?"

Bobby ignored the question and asked, "Do you want to see him again?" He was testing the waters. Was he going to be able to trust Jim, his newly discovered cousin?

"No, Bobby, I don't think I ever want to see your dad again."

"I don't want to ever see that ass hole again, either."

Jim was surprised by the vehemence in Bobby's voice. "That's not nice calling your dad a name like that."

"Well, can you think of a better name to call him?" Bobby belligerently asked. He was not about to back down, certainly not apologize.

Jim chuckled and admitted, "No, I think that name fits him rather well."

There was a bench under a big elm tree that was placed to look out over the valley. They wandered over to it and sat down. Jim was lost in memories of a childhood that had been happy until his uncle who was only three years older had forcefully corn holed him. And then threatened to tell his parents that he was a queer cocksucker. Jim had hardly known at the time what that meant, but he did know that no one liked queers or cocksuckers. He had retreated into a shell. Depression had become his way of life. His parents were sure that he would grow out of it. He could still hear his mother saying, "It is, after all, one of those things that teenagers sometime go through. I mean, look at Jimmy Dean in his movies."

Bobby broke his reverie. "Jim, what did Robert do that made you hate him?"

"I never said that I hate him.""So what did he do?"

Jim stared at the mountains on the far side of the valley, remembering the first of many times that Robert who he had adored up to that day, had forced him to submit to his sexual lust. Even after years of therapy Jim's emotions were still confused. It still made him angry with himself that he still found himself being aroused when he thought about Robert's big masculine body. Yet, when he thought of the mental abuse that Robert had put him though he felt worthless and used. He hated Robert for that, maybe even more than for the sexual abuse. All these years later it was as if it had happened yesterday. No one had a right to inflict that on another person. "Bobby, I don't think that is something I want to discuss with a fifteen year old kid."

"Why not?" Bobby insisted. He was sitting on the edge of the bench with his head down, kicking at the gravel with his toe. "It was probably the same thing he did to me," he mumbled.

His voice was so low Jim barely heard what he had said, but still it was like a scream in Jim's head. It brought him sharply back to the present. He whipped around on the bench and grabbed Bobby, pulling him to his chest.

"The son of a bitch raped you?" Jim felt Bobby's head nod against his chest. He hugged him tighter. "Oh God, Bobby, I'm so sorry. You don't deserve this."

Bobby broke down, sobbing, while silent tears of anger and frustration ran down Jim's cheeks. It was so difficult, sometimes, trying to keep it all in perspective. 'God damn Robert', he thought, 'he's a grown man. How could he do this, especially to his own son?'

"They keep making me go back to him." Bobby sobbed. "And every time he does it again. I have to run away. They think I'm just a no good punk kid that doesn't appreciate what I've got, but I don't have anything. Nobody loves me. My mom thinks I'm just a pain in the ass. And the only good I am to Robert is a hole he can fuck."

Bobby's course street language shocked Jim. But steering Bobby in the right direction was paramount to word usage. "That's bullshit, Bobby. You deserve to be loved. You have done nothing to deserve being raped."

"Why does he do it to me? I only wanted him to love me and treat me like his kid."

"You dad is sick, Bobby. May God forgive me for not bringing him to justice years ago. I am so sorry Bobby."

"Nobody would have believed you, Jim. Just like they won't believe me."

"Did you try to tell them what was happening?"

"Yes, once, the first time I ran away. They said I was making it up. A respected man like my dad wouldn't do a thing like that." Bobby hesitated and looked up at Jim. "Did you? Did you tell anyone that he was fucking you?"

"No, Bobby, I didn't tell a soul. I was too ashamed. I felt that I was worthless and no one would want anything to do with me if they knew about me."

"I know."

"But now there are two of us, Bobby. And I'm not ashamed anymore. He won't touch you again."

Bobby sat back gulping air, trying to stop the sobs. "You mean that Jim? You won't let them send me back to him?"

"I promise you that you will not be sent back to Robert. And we'll make him pay for what he has done."

Nathan stood at the corner of the building watching Jim and Bobby on the bench. He couldn't hear their conversation, but he had a very good idea what it was about. He had put two and two together and figured out that Jim's uncle and Bobby's father were one and the same. When the two of them sat apart and continued talking, he strode out to them.

"Have you two had enough time to get to know each other?" he asked as he approached.

Jim looked up at him, and then down at Bobby. He reached over and brushed the hair back from the boy's face. "You ready to get the ball rolling?" Bobby didn't lift his eyes. He just nodded. "Bobby, look at me." He looked up. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. You have done nothing wrong. It is Robert who has done wrong. And you and I have to stop him, Bobby."

"But he's my dad." Bobby was torn between filial allegiance and a need to be loved.

"I know, but he has to be stopped. Come, let's go in and talk with Nathan."

Three hours turned into eight before Nathan and Jim succeeded in accomplishing their aim. Nathan's car sat in the 57 parking lot, commonly called a freeway, as everyone rushed to pack it tight in a frenzy to get home for the evening. They were tired, but happy, after spending hours with child services and the L.A. police. Bobby was buckled into the back seat. Jim protected a folder full of papers lying on his lap. One of them gave him legal temporary custody of Bobby.

Jim smiled to himself as he thought about suddenly having a focus to his life again. He had gone through the motions of living for three years. Now he had Nathan in his life and a troubled teenager that desperately needed his help, love and guidance. He turned and looked over the seat at Bobby. He had nodded off. His head rested on the armrest; his longish black hair hung over his face. In sleep there was no sign of the trauma that the boy had been through.

Nathan chuckled. Jim turned back and looked at him.

"What?" he asked.

"I was just thinking about your meeting with Mrs. Sharp from Child Services."

"That woman is a controlling bitch."

"No, Jim, not really. She holds Bobby's interests foremost. I loved the way she just sat there like a big boulder while you yelled at her. Her gaze never wavered from your face until you wound down. And then she acquiesced with a little smile."

"I may have raised my voice, but I didn't yell." Jim protested.

"You were yelling. You even shook your fist at her." Nathan laughed, and then imitating Jim, he shook his fist at the windshield. "He's my cousin. He's my blood relative, for Christ sakes! Why can't I have him?" He glanced at Jim, who was blushing and grinning at him.

"I guess I did get a bit dramatic, didn't I?"

"She loved it. I think that was what convinced her to let you take Bobby."

They were both quiet for a bit, lost in their own thoughts. And then Jim chuckled. "God, I'd love to be there when the police arrest the mighty Robert Baxter. I can just imagine the look of righteous indignation on his face as the charges are read to him."

Nathan studied Jim as the traffic had come to a standstill again.

"You seem quite well adjusted for having been raped multiple times."

"Yeah, I was quite an emotional mess when I hooked up with your brother. He was really a good therapist. I guess I'm living proof of that."

Nathan smiled. "He was my brother, wasn't he? I wish I could have known him. It sounds like he was a pretty incredible guy. I hope I can be as successful with Bobby."

"I think you're as incredible as Ted was, Nathan. Today's accomplishment wouldn't have happened if not for you. I think that Bobby is going to be fine with your help." Nathan smiled as he watched the traffic moving around him.

"Thanks, Jim." He turned and looked at him. "I love you, fellow."

Jim reached over and squeezed his arm. "I love you, Nathe."

"I like that. Most people shorten my name to Nat. I hate that. You make it special. You know your job is going to be as important as mine or even more so. You're going to have to keep the boy on an even keel, giving him the love and stability that has been missing in his life."

"I'm up to the job. With your help and guidance, I think we can do a smashing good job." Jim said.

Nathan grinned. He looked at Jim out of the corner of his eye.

"You've been watching too much late night BBC. Smashing good job, indeed."

Jim laid his head back and laughed.

Bobby had awakened when Nathan was imitating Jim's tirade at Mrs. Sharp. He lay there listening. What he was learning about these two men who had suddenly become the center of his life, confused him. They didn't look like fairies. Bobby had been on the seamy back streets of Hollywood. He had met a few of them. They were nice guys for the most part, but most of them were quite effeminate when they got together in a group, calling each other Mary or some other female name. They seemed to compete to see who could out do the others in being the bitchiest. Jim and Nathan were nothing like that. They were both straight looking and acting; he would never have thought them to be queers, and yet they had just professed their love for each other. This tended to confuse Bobby. He felt the hate and fear building up inside. He was going into an unknown situation. For all he knew these two men were planning on having their way with him just like his dad had done. Bobby lay there feigning sleep and planning on how he was going to get away from these two.

When he had lived with his father, Robert had a constant flow of young men, barely older than Bobby, in his bed. He had never tried to hide what he was doing from his son. Bobby got to where he didn't leave his room each morning until he knew the boy that his father had brought home the night before had gone. On the times that he had, Robert had always made of point of introducing him to his trick and telling him what a great fuck Bobby was, calling him his 'little pussy'. The mental abuse was worse than the actual sexual abuse.

As Bobby thought about it he decided that he might have enjoyed the things his father had done to him if it hadn't been for the constant barrage of humiliation and verbal degradation. On the streets of Hollywood he had sex with other boys. He had enjoyed it. It had been warm, loving and intimate compared to how his father treated him. With Robert there had never been any tenderness, or consideration of Bobby's feelings.

He wondered if these two men would be gentle and loving. Or would they be like his dad and just take what they wanted with no care about his feelings. No, Jim wouldn't be that way. He had gone through the same thing with Robert. He wouldn't treat someone else that way. And Nathan, he was always so gentle in talking to him. He couldn't imagine Nathan doing anything like his dad did.

Maybe he wouldn't have to run away this time. It made Bobby feel good to think that he might have a home where he felt safe and loved. He dozed off again as the traffic began to ease a little.~~~~

"Bobby, we're here. Hey, wake up, fellow."

Bobby woke up to see Jim unfastening his safety belt. He sat up and stretched. Nathan was already out of the car and removing Bobby's suitcase from the trunk. Bobby slid out and closed the door. He looked at the little house and thought to himself that it was going to be cramped with the three of them living there. He started to walk toward the door.

"This way, Bobby."

He turned and saw Jim heading for the big two-story house next door. He veered towards Jim with Nathan following. "Why did you park over there if you guys live over here?" he asked.

"Nathan lives there. This is my house. And you'll be living with me."

"Oh, I thought you lived together."

"What made you think that?" Nathan asked.

Bobby ducked his head. "I wasn't asleep all the time in the car."

Jim stopped and turned. "I guess we need to have a talk and do some explaining, huh? Come on in and let's choose you a bedroom first."

Bobby toured the four bedrooms available and chose the one on the Northwest corner of the house. Not only did it connect directly to a bathroom, it had windows on both the north and the west walls, making it bright and sunny. It was, also, the farthest from Jim's. It contained only an old double bed and a rickety chest of drawers.

Jim helped him put his meager belongings away and invited him to join him in the kitchen for a cold soda.

"I'll be down in a minute, I've got to use the loo." Bobby said, making a joke about Jim's earlier use of English dialect.

"The what?"

"I need to go to the bathroom."

Jim gave him an exaggerated "OH!" as he caught on to the joke. "In this house it should be called the pissoir," he said, laughing as he left the room.

Bobby sat on the edge of the double bed and gazed out the window. Being an only child he had always had his own bedroom, but never one this empty. 'Well,' he thought, 'it's better than staying in that crummy detention center and a whole lot better than with my dad. At least Jim understands where I'm coming from, having been raped by Robert, too. Maybe things'll work out here.'

Bobby got up and washed his face with cold water and then went down to the kitchen. He plopped down in a chair and watched Jim doing things with food at the counter. He seemed quite proficient in what he was doing, for soon he opened the oven and slid a pan into it. He straightened up and noticed Bobby watching him.

"Oh, I didn't hear you come in. Would you like something cold to drink? I've got Cokes, lemonade or orange juice."

"Lemonade."

"Ah, you'll like this. Nathan made it yesterday evening. He grows his own lemons." He filled a glass, added ice and then handed it to Bobby. "We're having Baked Chicken Paprika for dinner. Nathan is going to join us. We'll eat here in the kitchen. Would you like to set the table while I make the rest of dinner? The dishes and utensils are in those cabinets and drawers."

As Bobby set the table, he watched Jim. "My being here makes you nervous, doesn't it?"

Jim spun around. "Why would you say that?"

"When you didn't know I was here you were really getting things done. Now you're looking like your trying to do ten things at one time."

Jim stopped and considered. "You're really observant. Yeah, I guess I am kind of uptight." He put down the spoon he had in his right hand and picked up the peeler and started removing the peel from the potato he had been carrying in his left. "I've never had to be responsible for someone else before. Of course, when Ted was alive I was sort of responsible to him--- not for him though." He added as an after thought. "He was a grown man. You know what I mean?"

"Who was Ted?"

"Ted? He was my life partner."

Bobby thought a minute. "You mean your lover?"

"Yes, more than that though. We shared our lives--- together."

"What did he look like?"

Jim turned from his potato peeling and looked at Bobby. He hesitated knowing this conversation was going to get complicated. Noticing Jim's hesitation Bobby stopped placing the silverware, and looked at him.

"He looked just like Nathan. Ted was his twin brother."

Bobby grinned. "So Nathan is taking sloppy seconds?"

"That's crude and rude. Where'd you pick up an expression like that?"

"On the streets." Bobby ducked his head to hide the tears of shame and frustration. Jim saw the tears, dropped the peeler and walked over to Bobby.

"I'm sorry, Jim. I didn't mean to insult you. It just popped out." He was expecting to at least be reprimanded. His father would have probably slapped him for such insolence.

Jim wrapped the boy in a hug. Holding his head to his chest. "It's okay, Bobby. I wasn't offended. Shocked, but not offended." He rubbed his other hand up and down the boy's back.

"You're not mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad? You're family, Bobby, I love you. And maybe even closer family than my brothers and sisters. Hell, they don't even talk to me."

"Why not? Why won't they talk to you?"

"They've been taught that homosexuality is wrong. They're Baptists. They believe I chose to be gay."

"Did you?"

"Did I what? Choose to be Gay? No more than you chose to be abused by your father."

"Oh." Bobby pulled away and sat in a chair, staring out the window. Jim picked up the potato peeler and watched Bobby for several seconds before going back to the kitchen sink to finish preparing the potatoes. Silence reigned for several minutes.

"Jim, can I ask you something?" Bobby continued to stare out the window as he spoke.

"Sure, Bobby, never hesitate to ask a question. I'll try to answer as best I can, that is, if it's not too personal."

"This isn't about you. It's about me." He continued staring out the window.

Jim stopped what he was doing and turned to look at Bobby. His heart ached for the kid, sitting there looking so forlorn. Finally, Bobby spoke. "Do you think I might be gay?"

Jim thought a minute about how to answer that. He answered with a question. "Do you think you are?"

"I don't know. I don't want to be."

"I don't think anyone in their right mind would want to be gay."

"Some of the guys I met when I ran away like being screwed. I hated it when Robert would do it to me. So does that mean I'm not?"

"Bobby, hating what your dad did to you is no indicator. Anybody, straight or gay would hate being forced to do that."

"So---how can I tell?" He turned and looked at Jim.

"Well, what do you think about when you masturbate?"

Bobby turned red, as he looked incredulous.

"I don't mean to embarrass you, Bobby. Every healthy man does it. I remember being fifteen. I had a woody all the time. Every time I'd think about a man or a good-looking boy I'd get hard. That's how I knew I was gay."

"I see. So I don't need to worry about being gay?"

"Not if it's girls who turn you on."

"Cool." He said looking back out the window. He had a little smile on his face. Jim thought of him as a man, that was so neat. Jim quietly went back to his task in preparing dinner.

Nathan came in the back door without knocking. Jim had his back to the door and didn't hear him enter. Bobby wasn't in view where he was sitting looking out the bay window in the breakfast nook. He heard the door close; he turned and saw Nathan. He started to speak, but stopped when he saw him step up behind Jim and wrap his arms around him. Jim jumped.

"Damn, Nathe, why don't you try making my heart stop."

"Did I scare you, Babe?" he asked, kissing Jim on his neck. Jim laid his head back onto Nathan's chest and pressed against him.

"Like you weren't trying to?"

Bobby watched Jim turn in Nathan's arms and press his lips to Nathan's.

"The bedrooms are upstairs, guys. I guess that answers my question."

Nathan let go of Jim in surprised shock. He was a dark red from embarrassment. Jim turned frowning at Nathan.

"I didn't quite answer his question awhile ago." He said to him, and then to Bobby. "Yes, to answer your crude rude question, we're working toward that goal."

"So now that you have legal custody of me---" He stopped as tears welled in his eyes.

Nathan moved around beside the boy. He put a comforting arm around his shoulder. He felt Bobby cringe.

"It's okay, Bobby. What is it you're wanting to know?"

"You're not going to--to do the things that Robert did to me, are you?"

"Bobby, we would never touch you sexually. We'd never force ourselves on you"

"How do I know that?" Bobby swiveled around and folded his arms on his chest looking belligerent and angry. Nathan sat down so he was eye to eye with the boy. Jim moved to stand next to Nathan.

"You are just going to have to trust us until you believe us." Nathan said. "Not all men are like Robert. Actually there are very few men like him. I don't think he is gay, he may be bisexual, but he's definitely a pedophile. He likes young boys, not men. Boys do not turn me on. Not even young men. I like mature men, like Jim."

"Gee, you make me sound so old." Jim said slapping the back of Nathan's head. "But seriously, Bobby, I'm the same way. A man has to be at least thirty for me to be the least bit interested in him."

"What makes you think I'm that old?" Nathan aped at Jim, acting indignant and hurt.

Jim laughed, "Hey, I was married to your twin. Remember?"

"Oh, yeah. I forgot." He leaned his head back grinning up at Jim. Jim bent down and kissed him on the forehead. Bobby forgot himself for a moment and giggled at their antics. Nathan smiled and winked at him. Bobby winked back and thought, 'Maybe things will work out here.'