Pete and Jason slept in. Only on Sunday mornings did they do that. Jason woke first and looked at the clock. It was nearly ten. His eyes caressed Pete's countenance, still sound asleep, he looked like a little boy. Jason felt sure that his man could sleep through a tornado tearing the roof off the house. He leaned over and softly kissed him on his temple. Pete didn't stir. Jason slipped out of bed, went to the bathroom and then headed for the kitchen.

He started the coffee maker and then turned to gaze out the window into the backyard. With his elbows planted on the counter top he rested his chin on his clinched fists. He thought about the reception a week ago, reviewing all that he'd seen. He wondered how Arlen was faring with Jim. He couldn't imagine those two alphas together. He was sure they'd be constantly butting heads. He couldn't imagine Jim being able to have a real loving relationship with another man. He'd seen Arlen just to wave in passing on the campus, but they hadn't talked at all. 'Well, as soon as the infatuation is over he'll get back in contact.'

He felt two hands caress his butt and then slide up around his chest as Pete lay his bigger body over his to plant a kiss on the back of his neck. Jason pushed his butt against Pete's hard cock. He knew Pete had to crouch to make the contact. He grinned over his shoulder and asked, "Are you glad to see me or is that just a morning woody?"

"I've already peed," Pete growled.

"So what are you just standing there for?" Jason asked, happy that there was no one living with them at the moment. Jason was eager to take advantage of their privacy every chance he got. He wiggled his butt as he handed Pete a bottle of peanut oil. Pete used it, then aimed and thrust. Jason gasped. "Oh yeah, this is the way to start the day."

It had been a week since the attempted kidnapping. Charley was changing. His sex drive had dropped. They'd have sex if Jake initiated it, but other wise, Charley paid little attention to him. And then it certainly wasn't making love. Jake didn't say anything about it, but he continued to carefully watch to gage how Charley was continuing to react to killing the would-be kidnapper. Charley's eyes still looked sad and haunted. When he smiled it was only with his mouth.

The morning run had started out congenially with the usual banter between five of the six men. Jake had already noted that Charley was withdrawn. And then Johnny casually asked Charley how he was coping and Charley snapped at him telling him to mind his own fucking business. That put a damper on conversation. The rest of the run was quiet, with only an occasional comment about something general. When they got back to the Tower, Charley did his stretches away from the other guys and then barked, "Jake. Let's go," and headed for the garage and their motorcycles.

Jake apologized for Charley's behavior, but Dave tried to put him at ease saying that they understood what was going on. Charley was already heading out of the garage when Jake mounted his Indian. Charley was finished with his shower and stalked out of the bathroom by the time Jake finished picking up the damp running clothes that he'd left on the bedroom floor. Jake fixed breakfast, then watched Charley listlessly play with the food on his plate. He was still brooding. In an attempt to get Charley's mind off of the morning run, Jake asked "Whatever happened to that new guard you had the run-in with just before I got out of the hospital?"

"Roger? He went back to Iowa. His father had a heart attack."

That was the most Charley had spoken all day. It gave Jake a momentary hope that he might come around. "You never had a chance to have that dinner conversation with him, huh?" he asked, hoping Charley would open up.

"Nope." Charley didn't lift his eyes from the plate of food he continued toying with.

"Is he coming back?"

"He came back three days ago." Charley abruptly got up and went into the bedroom.

Jake dropped his head to his chest. He knew that Charley was digging himself into a deeper depression. When he didn't come back after a couple of minutes he got up, cleared the table, tossing most of Charley's breakfast down the disposal, then went looking for him. He found him lying on the bed staring at the ceiling. Jake sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and placed a hand on his chest. Charley ignored him. "I'm here for you, Babe, if you want to talk about it," Jake said.

"I just need some space. Okay?" He lifted Jake's hand off his chest and placed it in Jake's lap. "Just let me alone."

Jake stood up and looked down at him. Charley wouldn't meet his eyes. Jake nodded and sighed. "Okay, I'll be in my office writing if you need anything." At the door he turned and looked back at Charley. "Are you sure you are all right?"

"I'm all right," he snapped and glared at Jake. "Alright?"

Jake nodded and left the room. When he sat down at the computer to work he couldn't think of anything except how Charley was acting. He stared at the blank screen and wondered if he should call Allen and talk to him. Instead he called Chess.

Despite having gone through "debriefing" and "reintegration" when he returned from the Mideast, Charley wasn't recognizing the symptoms of PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He wasn't dealing with his depression at all. He stared at the ceiling feeling that everyone was turning against him. Roger kept making what Charley felt to be uncalled for remarks. Accusing him of being absentminded and daydreaming on the job. He had even gone so far as to threaten to put in a request with Paul to work with someone else if he didn't start straightening up his act. Dave hadn't said anything, but Charley could tell that he was watching him, just waiting for him to fuck up. And then this morning Johnny had to stick his nose into it. Who the hell did he think he was? Then there was Tim eyeing him like he was some kind of weirdo or something. Jake was the only one that was treating him halfway decent. But even he was smothering him with all the attention. 'Shit,' he thought, 'I should just quit and go back to Kirksville, I know I could get my old job back in a second and not have to put up with all these ass holes.'

"I'm at my wit's end," Jake said to Chess. "I just don't know how to get through to him, Chess." He'd just finished filling Charley's dad in on the killing and how Charley was reacting.

"I think that I need to discuss this with Les before I give you any advise, Jake. I've been spending a lot of time with him and Robert these last couple of weeks. I know he was one of the psychologist that worked with Marines returning from the Mideast back in George One's administration. If anyone would know, it will be him. When is Charley back on duty?"

"Tomorrow morning at eight."

"I'll call you around eight-thirty then."

"Thanks, Chess."

"Hey you two are my sons."

"Love ya, Dad."

"I love you, too, Jake."

Monday morning found Charley snuggled against Jake. He had an arm across Jake's chest and a leg over his hips. Jake lay there missing the hard cock that usually was pushing against his ass.

When the alarm went off Charley rolled away from Jake and turned it off. Instead of turning back and cuddling with Jake for a few minutes before getting up, he lay at the edge of the bed and went back to sleep. Jake lay there feeling at a loss for what to do. He sorely missed Charley's affection, but he was more worried about Charley himself. He heaved a big sigh and rolled off the bed. After a trip to the bathroom he went into the kitchen and made coffee. While it brewed he stared out the window at the back yard.

When the coffee was ready he filled two mugs, put two sugars into Charley's cup, and went in to wake him up. Charley was sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. He didn't look up when Jake walked in. Jake set his coffee on the bed stand, kissed the crown of Charley's head and started getting dressed. Charley straightened up, took a sip of his coffee and mumbled what Jake construed to be a 'thanks'. He noticed that Charley wasn't only not hard, it was pulled in to where he only showed an inch or two. He normally swung a good four inches when soft, and was usually at attention until after he'd taken a piss.

Charley stood and did a slow stretch and shuffled into the bathroom. Jake listened to him relieving himself and looked at the clock. He went to the bathroom door and told Charley he had twenty five minutes to get to work. A mumbled, "Fuck off," was Charley's reply. Jake shook his head, took his coffee into his office and sat down at the computer. He forced himself to start writing and after a couple of attempts got into it and was typing away when he heard Charley's Harley start up. He'd left without saying anything. Jake glanced at the clock on the bottom of his screen. Charley was already late.

Charley walked into Paul's office and mumbled, "Sorry I'm late." Roger was sitting in front of the desk. It was obvious that they'd been discussing him.

Paul looked up at him. "This makes the fourth time in the last seven days. What gives, Charley?"

Charley slumped into a chair next to Roger, leaned forward and ran his fingers through his hair. "I just overslept. Won't happen again."

"It'd better not. I'll have to start docking you."

Charley half-heartedly shrugged.

Paul and Dave had discussed Charley and he was on the lookout for changes. Charley had always been prompt. Paul didn't make an issue of it, hoping Charley would see what was happening and seek help on his own. "Well, Dave has a busy schedule today. So you two are going to be kept busy." Paul went into the details of what Dave would be doing. Charley stared at the floor not paying attention. He got up and left as soon as Paul indicated that he was through and waited at the outer door for his partner. He noticed Roger give Paul a significant look as they exited Paul's office. Paul patted him on the shoulder and said something Charley couldn't hear. Roger nodded and walked over to Charley who opened the door and then he followed Roger out. "Talking about me, huh?" Charley said to his back.

Roger turned and looked at him. "We were discussing a problem. You just happened to be it."

"Tell me to my face if you find I'm being a problem. Don't go talking behind my back."

Roger stopped and turned around. "You need to seek some professional help, Charley. You are not handling things very well at all."

Charley frowned at him. "Get out of my face, Rog."

"Then get some help."

Charley stepped around him. "I don't need any help and I damned sure don't need you telling me what to do. So fuck off."

The rest of the day was spent with the two men glowering at each other. Dave noticed the animosity, but held his council. He spoke to Paul about it, again suggesting counseling for Charley.

Chess called Jake at 8:35. He had Les and Robert on a conference line. Jake filled them in on Charley's behavior, and after a good bit of discussion it was decided that the three men would come over for the weekend. Les suggested that they set up an intervention with Charley, involving all the key people he worked with. They decided a barbeque/pool party would be a good setting for it.

When Jake told Charley that his dad and brother were coming for a visit Charley nodded and said, "I need to talk to Dad."

Jake called Dave and discussed setting up the intervention with him. Dave suggested that Roger, Paul, Johnny and Tim, and Joe and himself be the only ones involved besides the three men from Kirksville and Jake. It was all set for Saturday afternoon.

Wednesday was a warm afternoon and Brian was through with his classes for the day. He'd put on a Speedo and was lying on a big towel out on the deck, enjoying the fresh air as he read for his Lit 1 class. With I-pod buds stuck in his ears listening to classical music, he didn't hear Roger come in.

Roger walked in and called out for Brian. Getting no answer he assumed that he wasn't home. He went into his bedroom and stripped down to his tighty-whities and then wandered into the kitchen to grab a beer out of the fridge. With his hand in his drawers playing with his balls, he wandered over to the sliding glass door that looked out on the private little deck. He froze when he saw Brian lying on the other side of the glass. Brian was on his stomach, his elbows supporting his upper body. His legs bent at the knees with his feet in the air, he was keeping time to the music with his toes. The movement was making his lycra covered glutes dance in a most intriguing way.

Roger stared at the round firm butt tightly contained in the scanty blue swimsuit. His eyes roamed up the strong smooth muscular back and down the long sinewy hairy legs. His hand was still in his Jockeys, but it no longer cuddled his balls, it was wrapped firmly around his hard pulsing cock.

Brian sensed that he was being watched and looked around. The glaring reflection on the sliding glass door prevented him from seeing into the apartment. Subconsciously he assumed no one was there and went back to reading. Roger moved away from the glass and went back to his bedroom. He jacked off imagining what Brian's ass looked like without that bit of stretchy blue fabric covering it.

He cleaned himself up, got dressed and left the apartment. He was feeling guilty for what he'd just done. 'Good God, I've just gotten my rocks off fantasizing over another man, but it was Brian's fault,' he thought to himself. 'He shouldn't lie around in that skimpy little swim suit. Damn, he's just too sexy dressed like that.'

Ending up at the Bookstore café with a cup of black coffee, he noted that he'd chosen to sit at the same table he'd sat at with Brian last Sunday. What the fuck? Why would he pay any attention to something like that? It was just so faggy. He stirred his black coffee, and the image of Brian smiling at his little eccentric habit came to mind. "Stir and stir, bubble and brew," Roger mumbled and smiled to himself.

He caught himself daydreaming about Brian's sweet smile, and berated himself again. The image of his ol' man calling him foul names and beating him swept the thoughts of Brian from his mind. Roger's anger boiled up. At first it was aimed at Brian for making him have these thoughts that his father would've tried to beat out of him. And then as he thought about it, the anger turned toward his father. He found himself actually being thankful the bastard had died. His frown deepened and he stirred his coffee with more vigor.

Sue Morrow didn't miss much of what went on in the bookstore and café. Since Dave had left the store for her to manage, she was even more thorough on keeping up with everything.

She stepped out on to the sidewalk to check how things were there. Jake was sitting by himself reading. She was aware of his custom. He glanced up, seeing her he waved and went back to his book. She saw Roger hunched over a mug deep in thought as he stirred his coffee. Dave had introduced him to her a few weeks ago and she'd noted then that Roger didn't put additives in his coffee. She had seen him here a couple of days ago with another young man in a Tower guard's uniform. Being an astute observer of others, she recalled Roger's warring expressions that day as he talked with the young man. She casually strolled through the tables, picking up a used mug and some soiled napkins and depositing them at the cleaning station as she wended her way over to Roger's table.

She stopped in front of him. "Roger, isn't it?" she asked, knowing it was. She never forgot a name.

Roger looked up and smiled. "Hello, Miz Morrow."

"Oh my, please call me Sue like everyone else does. Miz Morrow makes me feel ancient. Do you mind if I sit a moment and rest my weary feet?"

Roger jumped up "Please do," he said, and held the chair for her. "Would you like me to get you a cup of coffee?"

"Thank you, no. I drink way too much working in this place."

Roger sat back down, picked up his swizzle stick and fiddled with it.

"You were very deep in thought. Did I interrupt something?" Sue asked.

"No...well, yes... Actually, I'm glad you did."

"Ah, it must have been something very serious."

"Kind of."

"An affair of the heart?" Sue asked.

Roger blushed and commenced stirring his coffee again.

"Did you know that I've worked for Dave since the day he and Bill opened this bookstore? We were just out of college. Dave and Bill were so in love. And that love was still just as strong the day Bill died."

Roger studied her. Sue didn't give the impression that she ever said anything idle. He wondered what she was telling him. And then he remembered catching her watching him when he'd come here with Brian and how she'd smiled at him. He'd not thought anything more of it, until now.

"I've not met the young man yet that you were here with the other day. What is his name?"

Roger thought about playing like he didn't know who she was talking about and then decided what the hell, no one around here cares. "Brian. Brian Henderson."

"He certainly is a handsome young man. Paul tells me that he is going to school here."

Roger knew that his boss was seriously dating Sue, so he knew who 'the Paul' was that she'd so casually mentioned. That implied that she already knew Brian's name and was trying to draw him out. That aggravated him. "So did my boss also tell you that we have the same address?"

Sue realized that he was onto her and grinned. "Fast work. Congratulations."

"Ma'am, I think you're jumping to conclusions. Brian and I only share an apartment."

Sue looked properly embarrassed. "Oh, I'm sorry, Roger. I... I...."

"Assumed."

Sue nodded, looking chastised.

Something inside Roger snapped into place, or it maybe it fell away, letting Roger see the truth of his feelings, and he gave in to the urge to tell it to this warm caring woman. "You obviously saw how I feel when I looked at Brian. And if I have my way, your assumptions will be true." He lost himself in thought for a moment and then jumped up and grabbed Sue in a hug. "Thank you, Ma'am, for helping me see what I need to do." He let her go and headed back across the campus leaving a bemused Sue calling good luck to him.

Roger had a difficult time sticking the key in the door lock. His epiphany while talking to Sue had left him in a high state of excitement. He was eager to get inside and tell Brian how he felt. In all his excitement he never stopped to think of how Brian might accept his announcement.

He got the door unlocked and burst into the room, startling Brian who had gathered his book and towel and had just entered the room from the opposite side. They both froze. Roger's eyes roamed over Brian's smooth young body. This embarrassed Brian and he unconsciously moved his towel to cover his front.

Roger shook his head. "God, you are beautiful."

The words broke Brian's enthrallment; he blushed from his head to his toes, and moved toward his bedroom.

"Please?" Roger begged.

Brian turned. "What?"

"Please, don't go," he whispered.

"Your acting weird, Roger. What's going on?"

Roger moved toward him. "I've fallen in love with you, Brian."

"You're straight, Roger."

"No, don't you see? I'm not."

"Yes, you are. Stop messing with me. Why are you talking like this? You're freaking me out. I need to get dressed." Brian turned and ran into his bedroom and slammed the door. He stood in the middle of the floor turning this way and that trying to make sense of what was happening. 'Why would Roger look at me like that? There's nothing feminine about me. Is there?' He turned and studied himself in the mirror.

As he studied his body, the words that Roger had said only moments ago echoed in his mind, "God, you are beautiful." Brian frowned and looked more critically at himself. He did have a good body, with well developed muscles, no washboard, but a flat belly still. Some chest hair and a trail going from his navel to the top of his Speedo. There was a lot more hair on his fore arms and legs. He could see nothing girly about his looks at all. And he knew he didn't act or talk the least bit girly. Roger must have slipped a cog. He turned away from the mirror and slipped the Speedo off, and put on his Levi's. When he was fully dressed he faced the door and wondered what to say to Roger when he went back out there.

Stunned that Brian had fled, Roger scolded himself while he regrouped his thoughts. How could he have just assumed that Brian was gay and would be all over him when he'd announced his feelings. He'd been posing as a straight man, even making snide remarks about the guys he knew to be gay, so why would he think that Brian would instantly see that he wasn't straight and why would he simply accept Roger's feeling for him. The kid might not be gay. Roger leaned against the wall and sighed. 'Stupid, that's what I am. Simply stupid. Now I've probably scared Brian off and he'll want me to move out.' The thought of not being near Brian wrenched at him.

He heard Brian's door open and fled into the kitchen. He was nervous. He decided to sit at the dinette table. Brian walked into the kitchen and stopped when he saw Roger. He felt like bolting out the front door. Roger's voice stopped him. "Brian I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Well, at least not without building up to it. Would you sit down and talk to me?"

Brian didn't move. He still eyed Roger with suspicion. "So you figured out I'm gay. Being gay isn't contagious," he said. "So what gives, Roger? Are you straight or gay? Why are you playing with me?"

Roger held his gaze. He sighed. "I'm....I'm....not playing. I'm serious..... very serious." He looked away and then down at his hands resting on the table. He looked back up at Brian. "I'm queer as a three dollar bill."

That announcement angered Brian. He now had to change his thinking about Roger. He'd pigeon-holed him under "Do not touch-STRAIGHT MAN." And here was Roger saying that he's gay and in love with him. His mind refused to make the shift. Roger had to be straight and just playing with him. He decided to respond by being difficult. "Queer. That means strange, odd, abnormal, unnatural, or bizarre, freakish. Is that what you are?"

Roger hung his head. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Then say what you mean," Brian barked.

Roger looked up at him. Brian's response was pissing him off. He frowned and raised an eyebrow. He grew up playing with words with his youngest sister. "Well, I'm not happy, joyous, or jubilant. Nor am I ecstatic, exuberant, or exultant. So I must not be gay. But I am attracted to you." He cocked his head to the side. "Okay?"

Brian frowned. Roger was getting more and more out of character. Brian strode over to the counter and propped his butt against it and folded his arms across his chest. "I didn't know you were so fluent in the English language. And what do you mean you're attracted to me? I'm not a pussy."

Roger ignored that last sentence, which really turned his blood cold. He chose to respond only to the first sentence. "I know how to use a dictionary," he growled.

Brian felt he was getting the upper hand and couldn't resist another jab. "And you can remember three and four syllable words."

Roger suddenly saw the humor in the situation and grinned. "Fuck you."

Roger's smile did something to him. Brian tried to keep the smile off his own face. "You didn't answer my question."

Roger leaned forward and stared intently into Brian's eyes. "I want to look into your baby blues while I make love to you." Brian wasn't ready for that tactic. It bewildered him. If he could have, he'd have blushed even more than he already was. "You are so beautiful, Brian."

He wanted to retreat, run from what Roger was making him feel. He wiped his straw-blonde hair off his forehead. He was suddenly losing this game fast. "Guys aren't beautiful," he whispered, trying to get control of his voice. His Texas drawl had intensified, 'guys' became two strong syllables, as did 'aren't', and 'beautiful' became four.

"Okay, you're most handsome and good-looking." Roger grinned. "I really like looking at you."

Brian capitulated. So what if he'd lost? It made his heart sing. He ducked his head and shyly looked up at Roger. "I like looking at you, too. I love your beard. But you're not really gay, are you?"

Roger ignored the question. "I love listening to you talk. There is something so romantic about your cowboy accent."

Brian frowned. "Stop sayin' those thangs. I wish you'd stop makin' me blush."

"But you're so cute when you blush." Roger mimicked the way Brian put a long hard 'u' in blush.

"Ah shucks. That's what my mama was always tellin' me."

"It's true."

"Well, you don't have to go sayin' it. 'Specially if you don't mean it." He turned around and looked out the window.

"Okay, but you know it now anyway. And I did mean it."

Brian eyed Roger a moment and then looked away. He looked back. "Did you really mean what you said a while ago, when you first came in?" He looked down and absentmindedly drew circles in the little puddle of water on the counter top.

"You mean about me thinking I'm falling in love with you?"

"Yeah, that."

"Yes, I did."

"So you're not straight. It wus just an act."

An hour ago it would have killed Roger to admit he was gay, but trying to convince Brian of his feelings made it easy. "No, I'm not."

"So when will you know for sure?" Brian asked and drew more circles.

"I know for sure right now that I am not straight, Brian. And you're the first person I'm admitting it to."

"No, about what you said before, that you're fallin' for me."

Roger studied the young man who had grabbed his heart. "Right about now."

Brian looked up at him. "You mean that."

"More than anything I've ever said."

"That's good." He pushed off the counter and moved around the table. He ran his hand down the side of Roger's face, coursing his fingers through the dark red beard. He wondered at the difference between the soft rich brown hair on his head and his course beard. "'Cause I want to believe you. I'm crazy about you. Have been from that first day when you told me about your dad. And if you turn out to be straight and are just pulling my leg..... Well,.... I don't know what I'll do."

Roger grasped his hand and kissed it. "I'm not pulling your leg, Brian. Why didn't you say something if you felt that way about me?"

Brian pulled his hand away. "With you havin' a reputation for saying derogatory thangs about gay guys, I'm going to tell you how I was feelin'? No way, Jose."

Dropping his hands back to the table top, Roger said, "I'm ashamed of myself for trying to hide behind that kind of bullshit, sounding like my dad. Probably didn't fool anybody."

"You had me fooled. But I wanted to be your friend anyway." Brian slid his hands down Roger's chest, ending up with his chin resting on the top of his head.

"Why?" Roger asked, as he tilted his head back, and slid his hands up Brian's arms until he reached his neck, then pulled him down to kiss him. A minute later he broke the kiss and looked into Brian's eyes. "Why did you want to be my friend?"

"'Cause I was figurin' you were hurtin' and just puttin' up a tough front."

"Pretty astute for a kid from Texas." Roger pulled him down onto his lap.

"Hey. Don't mess with Texas." Brian laughed. He felt silly sitting on another man's lap.

"Now what the fuck does that mean?"

"I don't know. I just saw it on a dumb-ass bumper sticker."

Roger laughed. "That's just what I thought." He grasped the back of Brian's head and pulled him into another kiss.

Brian wrapped his arms around Roger, got involved in kissing him back and forgot about feeling silly.

Dave leaned against the door sill watching Joe pull off his shoes as he sat on the edge of the bed. "So how is Charley holding up?" Joe asked.

"He's not. I feel that he's going to break soon."

"He's not going to harm himself, is he?

"I hope not. His dad and brother are coming down in the morning. Jake has invited us to join an intervention tomorrow afternoon. He's doing a backyard barbeque and pool party. Roger, Johnny and Tim, along with Paul, are going to be there."

Joe stood and started unbuckling his belt. Dave moved in and took over the task. "Shouldn't there be a professional head shrinker, too? I mean we don't know how to handle a crisis like this," Joe asked, stepping out of his pants.

Dave emptied the pockets, unhooked the little gun from the inside the waist band and laid it with Joe's wallet and cell phone. He folded the pants across the back of a chair, while saying, "I'm sorry, Robert's partner is a psychologist. He dealt with Marines coming back from Desert Storm."

Joe had unbuttoned his shirt. "And who is Robert?"

"Charley's brother." Dave skinned the shirt off Joe's shoulders and down his arms. He stopped to kiss each of Joe's nipples and nuzzle in the thatch of blonde chest hair.

Joe moaned and then asked, "The one who put the gashes in Jake's scalp?"

"Yeah." Dave tossed the shirt into the hamper. When he turned back, Joe had already slipped out of his boxers and was putting on a ragged pair of running shorts. "You really should throw those things away," Dave said.

Joe grinned and wrinkled his nose at him. Dave's shorts were in no better condition. "You know, if I didn't know what Charley is going through and if I hadn't met his dad, I'd think his whole family is psycho," Joe said.

"Not really." Dave wrapped his arms around Joe's chest and rubbed against him. He could feel Joe's arousal against his own. "From what Jake has told me Charley's mom is going through menopause and having a difficult time adjusting. His oldest brother is pretty cool. He's a lawyer in his dad's firm. Robert is really the only one that would have raised doubts, but he's doing okay now." Dave's breath caught as Joe licked that sensitive spot on his neck just behind his ear. "He's getting a divorce and his new lover is, like I said, a psychologist," he panted. "Why did you bother putting your shorts on?"

Joe chuckled. "'Cause I know how much you like taking them off of me."

Dave groaned and slid down his lover's body to kneel at his feet. He looked up at Joe, grinned lasciviously, and then slid Joe's shorts down to his ankles. Dave groaned again at the magnificent sight before him as he laid his face into it.

Once Roger had realized that with his father now buried, he could easily admit his sexual preference. He didn't give a rat's ass what his older siblings thought, he'd never see any of them again anyway. He was free of their shackling attitudes. He found it easy to fall into the natural role of being a gay man. Not that it was that different from straight. It was just some of the enforced attitudes and when they fell away he accepted himself and the fact that he'd fallen in love with his beautiful young Brian. That's the way he thought of him, even though he was only five years younger.

So when Roger called Dave and asked him if it would be appropriate to ask Jake if he could bring his boyfriend, he thought nothing of how Dave would react to his change.

Dave didn't drop a beat. "Well, I don't think Jake would have any objections, but does your 'boyfriend' know what's going on? This is going to be an intervention, not just a barbeque party"

"Well, he was on desk duty and saw the whole incident. He was the one to call the police. He told me he that after the police left, he woke Jake and told him to go out and talk to Charley."

There was silence on Dave's end for a few moments. He'd just been thrown a double whammy. Roger wasn't just gay, he'd just told Dave who his boyfriend was. "You're talking about Brian Henderson?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Oh..... Well...... Yes...... Definitely call Jake. Do you have his cell number?"