I could tell from the return address that the package was from Grandpa. Amy and Davey watched with interest from across the kitchen table as I tore off the wrapping paper and found a gift box with an envelope taped to the outside.
Inside the envelope was a handwritten letter:
“Gloria tells me that you are getting better every day, and you sound better every time we talk on the phone. I’ve been praying for you and am glad you are doing so well.
“Michael, I’ve done more serious thinking in the last few months than I have in all my life. Funny — now I’m less certain about the things I believe. But at least now I’m surer about the important things in life. I am sure I love you and your mom, and Davey.
“The truth is, I’ve been giving you and Davey a lot of serious thought, especially now that you two are living together. I hope you know that I believe you are both fine young men. I can’t say that I understand the feelings you have, but know that I will always respect you and that I want the very best for you.
“What I am trying to say, Michael, is that I’m your Grandpa. If you really have no choice about being gay, I’m still going to love you, pray for you, and encourage you to live up to all your potential. If you must be gay, then be a good gay. Be an admirable gay. If you and Davey are going to be together, then you be faithful to him, Michael, and treasure him like a good man treasures his wife. Or as one friend treasures another.
“Forgive the preaching of an old man, but I won’t always be around, and you don’t have a father to keep an eye on you. Let me tell you something that I believe is important, and it is this: when all is said and done, a wonderful life is built one day at a time. Spend as many of those days as you can with the ones you love, and when you are old, Michael, the very best of your days will have been the ones you spent with the one you love the most. If that person is Davey, then build your memories with him, and you’ll have a treasure that gets richer the longer you live. You are extraordinary friends. Be faithful to each other. Be faithful a long, long time, and you will have a wonderful life.
“Inside this box is a gift that I hope you will hang on the wall in the room which you share. It is from me to both of you. I looked all over town to find one, but in the end, had to make it myself — with a little help from a friend who is an artist. I wish that I was wealthy enough to give it to you in bronze or gold. But the words are what are special. Remember them and take care of each other.
“With all my love,
I passed the note to Davey who held it so that Amy could read it at the same time. And then I opened the box.
Inside was a laminated wooden plaque. It wasn’t the cheesy, overly sentimental kind of thing that women buy in gift shops, but more rough-hewn. It looked like some something they’d put up in a scout hut. Then I read the words:
”Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous;
love does not brag and is not arrogant,
does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own,
is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered,
does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth;
bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things, endures all things.
”Love never fails.”
I handed the plaque to Davey and Amy. After they looked it over, I shook my head. “Grandpa sets high standards. Love like that could be hard work.”
“Especially for you,” Davey said, nodding in agreement.
Amy laughed, and Davey looked up in surprise. I frowned at him. “Very funny, Davey,” I said.
His eyes went wide. “No! I meant it would be hard for you — because of me. You know, it says…” he referred back to the plaque, “love endures all things. I give you a lot to… endure.”
I shook my head. “You’re the one with his work cut out for him. Maybe we better put the plaque up on your side of the bed.”
“No. Right under my painting,” he said, referring to the small painting I bought him once on the river walk.
“I think it’s beautiful,” Amy said, examining the plaque. “I think it’s out of the Bible somewhere.”
I took back the plaque, looked it over, and then grinned at Davey. “Hey,” I said. “As long as it’s you I’m practicing on, it shouldn’t be so hard.”
“I think,” Amy said, “that you’re supposed to practice it on everybody.”
“Except on jocks and Larry,” I offered with a grin.
Amy frowned. “Are those jerks from school still bothering you?”
“Not since we fought with them… in the hall,” Davey said. “That showed ‘em.”
Little David cried from the living room. “He probably needs a new diaper,” Amy said. “He just nursed a little while ago.”
“I’ll do it,” I volunteered.
Poor little David looked really unhappy. The nice thing about babies, though, is that they can be so upset one moment, but clean them up, give them a fresh diaper, and they can be happy again instantly. I carried him back to the kitchen and set him in my lap.
“You know, kid,” I said, “there are times when I think my life needs a fresh diaper.”
“Just quit messing in it,” Amy said with a smile.
“Very funny,” I answered, looking at her from under my brow. Then I looked down at little David. “You’re in for it, kid. You’ve got a smartass mamma.”
“And speaking of ‘smartass,’” Amy said. “Davey and I were talking, and I have some questions for you that you might think are smart ass.”
“I knew it was a bad idea to let women get educated,” I said with a smirk.
“Ha!” she exclaimed. “That’s exactly what I was going to ask you about — men and their… chauvinism. How is it that you can think women are so different, but also believe you can marry another man and think it’s going to be the same as marrying a woman?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Davey says someday you two are going to get married,” she said, her chin jutting out. “I understand you guys living together and being best friends… but marriage? That’s crazy.”
“Why? Because best friends don’t get married?”
“No. Because men don’t marry men! Like, how is that supposed to work? For one thing, marriage is about having kids. For another, men are promiscuous as hell, and they have a whole different view of marriage. Look at all the societies where men have multiple wives. You never hear of women having multiple husbands.”
“In Hollywood you do,” I said with a shrug. “Haven’t you ever heard of serial monogamy? Women who have multiple husbands just tend to do it one at a time.”
She nodded. “Exactly. Women are different from men and marriage takes one of each. I don’t see how the hell you and Davey expect to call it a marriage.”
“We love each other!” Davey exploded. Then he blushed and lowered his voice. “I love him. You marry the one you love and want to… spend your life with.”
“Amy,” I said. “Sure it will be a little different for us, since we’re gay guys. Maybe we can’t make children together, but we can make a life together. I don’t care about other societies. I don’t even care about this society. Davey and I have belonged to each other, at least as best friends, since we were six. That’s longer than a hell of a lot of ‘marriages.’”
I lifted up little David and rubbed noses with him. Then I laid him on my shoulder. “Maybe we don’t have to call it marriage,” I said. “But we love each other. I want to spend my life with him and he wants to spend his with me. Someday, we’re going to promise to forsake all others and be faithful to each other for as long as we live. To me, that’s what a marriage is. And maybe because we’re both guys it’s even more important for us to stay faithful.”
Amy cocked an eyebrow at me. “If you believe all that,” she said skeptically. “Then why haven’t you gotten married already? Why haven’t you made this promise to ‘forsake all others?’ If you really believe that Davey is the one, then why haven’t you promised that?”
Davey looked abashed and I was worried. I didn’t want him to felt pressured. And that last question sure pressured me. We’d gotten so domestic that I forgot Amy was an honors student, and damn smart in her own right. I didn’t want her intimidating Davey. “Look, Amy. We’re only sixteen. It’s a big step. You wouldn’t say the same thing if it was a guy and a girl.”
She raised both eyebrows.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
She shook her head. “It’s not easy, Michael. But I know you’ll never marry me. I just think you guys are fooling yourselves. I have to wonder if you don’t want to promise to be faithful yet because, deep down, you still want to have sex with other guys.”
Davey shook his head emphatically. “No. Not anymore.”
“Me, either,” I agreed. “It’s just that we’re only sixteen, Amy. It’s too soon.”
Amy shook her head sadly. “Either you don’t believe that, or you don’t really believe the rest of the stuff you said. I agree with you about one thing: marriage is exclusive, it is monogamous, and it is about forsaking all others.” She shook her head. “I was wrong to make that offer I made to you, Michael — about having your cake and eating it too.”
She waited to make sure I understood that she was referring to her offer to let me have both her and Davey. Then she continued. “I was stupid and you were right. Marriage is just between two people, forever. Anything else is just a sham; just pretending at marriage like little kids playing house and imitating adults…” She sighed, and then cocked an eyebrow at me. “Maybe you just aren’t ready to be adults.”
Davey looked stressed. Hell, I was feeling stressed. “Maybe we better talk about something else,” I offered.
Amy shrugged. “OK, but someday you’re going to have to put up or shut up.”
* * * * *
Davey was quiet the rest of the day and I worried that Amy may have upset him. I worried about it that night as I lay on my stomach studying in the living room. Davey was using my butt as a pillow as he watched TV, and I was conscious of how quiet he was. I waited until Maggie went to bed.
“Davey?” I asked. “The things Amy said today, did they bother you?”
Davey rolled to his side and adjusted the lay of his head on my butt. He scratched my lower back while he thought about his answer. “Maybe some of it,” he admitted.
“Well don’t worry about it. We don’t need to rush anything,” I reassured him.
He lifted my shirt and reached underneath to scratch along my spine. “I didn’t understand… everything she was saying,” he said thoughtfully. “Was she right?” he asked.
“She wasn’t right to push us, Davey. We can know we’re going to get married someday. It doesn’t mean we have to do it now.”
He pushed my shirt up and rolled his head to kiss the skin at the base of my back. “Are we ever gonna have sex with anyone else?”
I closed my book and rested my head on it. “Do you want to?” I asked.
He slid up beside me and reached under my shirt again to rub my back while looking into my eyes. “Do you?” he asked.
From his eyes, I could tell he was thinking similar thoughts to mine, so I put my forehead to his and told him the truth. “Look, I still get turned on by other guys, just like you do. I mean… I remember the stuff I did with Brandon, just like you probably remember the things you did with Hunter and Geoff and those other guys. And the thought of being with him again is tempting sometimes. I’ve wondered what it’d be like to do something with Hudson, too. But then I remember what you said when you said that all you had to do to stay faithful when Hunter tried to seduce you was to think about me. Well, when I start to have those thoughts, you know what I do?”
He shook his head.
I smiled. “I think about you.”
“But we could do other guys together,” he suggested. “We liked doing Ellie together, and we had fun with Tyler and Blair. And you liked Hunter.”
The bottom dropped out of my stomach and my throat constricted. I was afraid of this. I was afraid of Davey feeling this way and afraid of trying to answer, because the only real arguments I had were not anything I could state logically, but were only things I believed in my gut.
A single tear rolled down along my nose and Davey saw it. He touched it with his finger, but I was grateful that he didn’t backpedal; he didn’t try to fawn over me. He let me think it through.
“If we did it, it would be fun,” I said. “It’s the kind of thing ‘fuck buddies’ do together, I guess. But sooner or later, it would destroy what we have. It would take what’s so special between us, and make it just sex. And what happens when a big, strong guy — the type you like — climbs into bed with us and wants you more than me? Or what if a gymnast-type guy like I’m attracted to comes to bed with us and likes me more than he likes you?” I shook my head. “It would be better then if we never made a life promise.”
Davey considered what I said and nodded wisely. “I’d be jealous. I’d be afraid you’d like him more than me.”
I smiled at him. “Nobody looks as hot as you, and they couldn’t possibly be as hot in bed. But even if they could, I wouldn’t love them. I love you and you love me. Why tear that apart? The decision is yours, Davey. But I won’t marry you if you want to have sex with other guys. It just wouldn’t work out for us.”
There was no resentment in his eyes. Instead, he nodded in agreement, and his gentle smile swelled my heart. “Damn, Davey,” I whispered. “I love you so much, I’m happy for it to be just us forever.”
He bit his lip. “Are we really too young to get married?” he asked quietly. “Amy didn’t think so.”
He watched my eyes. “No,” I had to shake my head. “Not you and me; we aren’t too young. But there’s no rush either,” I added quickly. “I know things seem to be moving fast. We can slow down. We can wait.” I said with all the sincerity I could muster. “I’d wait for you forever, Old Man.”
A look of longing stirred in his eyes. He put his leg over my butt and snuggled on to me, kissing my cheek.
I stroked his jaw. “Do you want to make love?” I whispered.
He moved up onto me and I could feel his hardness on my butt. “Yeah,” he whispered in my ear. “Right now.”
“The living room?” I hissed. “What if your mom or Tom come out?”
But he was already jerking my shorts down my thighs. Then he kicked his off and laid back down on me, his hard cock sliding along my crack. “You’re mine, Mickey” he whispered. “I want you now.”
* * * * *
Late Saturday morning, we were running up McCullough Street when a pickup load of jocks made a “U” turn and came after us. Davey and I ran onto a nearby golf course, just as several guys piled out of the back of the truck behind us. Larry was one of them.
We had a good lead but they began to close. Davey started to run faster. “Pace yourself, Davey,” I called. They can get close, just don’t let them catch us.”
And they did close to about ten yards, Larry was in the lead, and two others were still running with him, one had dropped out. As we came out on the other side of the golf course, the same pickup was waiting and a couple more jocks jumped out after us.
Davey and I made a right angle turn and Larry cut across the angle. He was closing on Davey. “Now! Run hard!” I yelled. And we scooted ahead out of Larry’s reach. I knew Davey wouldn’t be good for much longer at the pace we were going, especially with a couple of fresh runners on our tail. I led us alongside Basse Road, and we crossed at a narrow gap in traffic, heading back towards Olmos Park.
Our chasers had to wait for another traffic gap and we gained ground. They looked like they might not try to cross Basse Road after us. Larry flashed the finger.
“Let’s moon ‘em,” Davey suggested, grinning.
I wriggled my eyebrows and we stopped. “Yoohoo,” I called out in falsetto. We turned our backs to them, dropped our pants, bent over, and wiggled.
A car honked from Basse, and we could hear the jocks yelling something. We pulled our pants up and looked at each other. Davey puckered. “Don’t even think about it,” I said. And then Larry and a couple of jocks crossed the road after us.
“Oh, shit!” I yelled, and we took off toward Olmos Road.
Larry had recovered his breath and was obviously a sprinter. He closed in on us. But the other two jocks began to quickly fall back.
Finally, only Larry remained, doggedly trying to keep up, but obviously winded. “Slow down,” I said, panting. “Let him catch us.”
“Why?” Davey asked.
“Because we can handle him, and we need to back him down sometime.”
We had to come to a complete stop and were almost breathing normally before Larry was able to catch up. When he did, he collapsed onto the ground and looked up at us, his chest heaving. “I’m still gonna beat your fuckin’ ass, Bentolli,” he said, between breaths. “Just give me a second.”
“Why?” I asked looking down at him. “What have I ever done to you, Larry?”
He lay there, trying to catch his breath and ignored my question. His breath was not returning very fast. “Geez,” he said, “you guys are like gazelles. Why aren’t you on the cross-country team?”
“Yeah, right,” I said. “Like you and your buddies wouldn’t like to trap us in the locker room.”
Larry got slowly to his feet, but was still panting. “You guys aren’t even breathin’ hard!” he said accusingly.
I looked at Davey and he grinned. We both began comically gasping and heaving, imitating Larry.
“Fuck you guys,” he said, straightening up and turning to walk away. “Faggots.”
“Hey,” I called out. “Aren’t you going to beat me up?”
He looked back at us over his shoulder. “Join the cross-country team,” he said, “or I will.” Then he walked away.
Davey and I cautiously made our way in the opposite direction, keeping an eye out for any new attackers. “It’d make him crazy if we did join the team,” I muttered to myself.
“What?” asked Davey, walking quickly alongside me.
“Nothing,” I said. “Hey — race you back home!”
Without a word, he tore away from me.
“Hey!” I yelled, trotting after him. “I’m gonna spank you for that!”
He stopped, wiggled his ass, then ran, and I grinned.
* * * * *
That night, Tom came by after work and took Maggie out for a date. He left a gym bag in her bedroom and Davey was bummed again. It was obvious that Tom had the intention of staying over on a more regular basis.
Davey was in an armchair, sullenly watching TV when they left. I sat down on the floor by him and rubbed his leg.
“We still haven’t showered today. Let me wash you all over,” I offered. “I’ll wash your hair, too.”
“And after that, I’ll give you a rubdown with body lotion.”
He took his eyes off the TV to frown at me, and then looked back at the TV.
“And tonight, I want to set a new record,” I added.
He gasped and turned to me in surprise, putting both hands into his lap and cringing dramatically.
“Very funny, doofus,” I said. “I actually meant a different sort of record.”
I rubbed my hand up his thigh. “I want to see how long I can keep you hard and…” I lowered my voice seductively, “give you pleasure, before I let you cum. You’ll like it, I promise.”
He smiled and raised an eyebrow. “I can do you, too.”
I slid my hand higher up his leg and wriggled my eyebrows.
. . .
“I think we should start timing it now,” I said, splaying his hair over my fingers to rinse it under the water from the shower. We were standing chest to chest with our cocks jutting out to either side. Davey’s head was back, and his hands rested on my shoulders to steady himself under the spray. “We’ve been hard for ten minutes already,” I pointed out as I leaned forward to reach all of his scalp. “I think we ought to count it.”
Davey just stood there, head back, eyes closed, smiling, enjoying the flow of warm water. His muscular neck, sheathed in water, was too hard to resist. I kissed it, and then drew my tongue all the way along under his jaw. His smile widened. His wet hair looked darker, and hung long over my fingers. Putting a hand under the back of his head to support it, I used my other hand to rinse out the last of the conditioner.
We’ll worry about timing later, I thought. Right now, I’ll let Davey enjoy the treatment.
. . .
He reached up, and grabbing my butt, pulled my hips lower over his face, sucking more of my scrotum into his mouth. I lifted my head from between his legs. “I’ve decided I like scrotum sucking,” I said, taking a breath. “You taste good, and it’s fun to do… and it puts my nose right where your… aroma is.”
Davey used his tongue to push me out of his mouth. “I like the… view,” he said, pulling my ass cheeks apart with his hands. “I like playing with your butt while we do it.”
I licked all the way down the underside of his cock in one swipe. “Well, don’t get carried away yet,” I cautioned. “We’ve only gone forty-five minutes.” Then I dove in between his legs again, sucking in one of his testicles.
. . .
I lifted my head from where it rested on the inside of Davey’s leg, taking his cock from my mouth, and checked the clock. “An hour and fifteen minutes,” I said, looking down my side to Davey who winked at me and resumed licking my shaft.
. . .
We faced each other lying on our sides, my torso between Davey’s legs, my cock buried in him all the way. He moaned softly as I held his butt snug to my lap with one hand and gently drew my fingers up and down his cock with my other. For his part, he was massaging my pecs and pinching my nipples. We had to stop every so often when we got close, but so far, the technique was working.
I rocked my hips to make sure I was still rock hard and then left his tightness in a new spot, lower on my shaft. I looked at the clock. “Almost two hours,” I said. “You want to be inside me for a while?”
He shook his head. “No, I like this. I wanna talk more about our house.” He ran a finger over my lips. “I want a secret passage between our rooms.”
”And both our rooms need to have windows onto a porch,” I said. “I might want to sneak in your window at night.”
He gently pushed his finger into my mouth and shook his head while I sucked it. “We’re always going to be in the same bed,” he whispered.
“A-ur I eek ih ur ih-oh.”
He giggled and pulled his finger from my mouth.
“After I sneak in your window,” I repeated, then grinned and squeezed his cock.
He moaned. “Careful,” he said. “Don’t squeeze too much. I wanna last three hours.”
. . .
He looked down at me, adjusting his hips so that our cocks and balls were firmly together. We both looked at the clock. “Two and a half hours, non-stop hard,” I said. “I don’t think I can make it much longer. I’m already feeling a little sore.”
Davey smiled and finished lying down on me. I spread my legs wider for him to settle between, and grabbed his butt. He reached down my sides and clutched my butt, too. “Oh shit,” I gasped. “Don’t move a sec. I’m almost…”
But Davey didn’t wait at all. He began humping me frantically and we muffled our cries into the side of each other’s neck.
As our breathing began to slow, I stroked Davey’s back and eyed the clock. Two hours and thirty-five minutes, I thought.
“How long did we make it?” asked Davey, still exhausted.
“We need to practice more,” I said solemnly. “I won’t rest until we can do at least three hours.”
“Not tonight,” I said, laughing and rolled over on top of him. “Didn’t you like it?” I asked, giving him a soft kiss on his chin.
He nodded, smiling. “It’s… different,” he admitted. “We can do it again.”
“That’s a promise,” I said, and then pushed out my stomach a couple of times, to playfully press his. “I’m hungry. Are you?”
. . .
We found Tom in briefs, rummaging through the fridge. Davey and I wore silk boxers. When we saw Tom, Davey started to turn and leave, but I grabbed his hand. “Anything good in there?” I asked.
Tom stood up and smiled. The guy obviously pumped iron. He had slabs of muscles. A line of hair extended up from his waistband to his naval. There were thick patches of hair under his arms, but he was smooth elsewhere. His body made obvious the awesome differences between a man’s body, and that of a teenager’s, like us.
“There’s some left-over fried chicken. You guys want some?”
“Sure,” I answered for both of us.
Davey and I sat down at the table while Tom retrieved the chicken and joined us. He had a Budweiser in his hand.
“You have beer in there?” I asked.
He paused only a moment before getting out two more. Opening them, he set one before each of us. “Cold fried chicken requires beer,” he said, sitting down. “One of my favorite meals.”
Tom glanced over at Davey, who avoided looking at him. Finally Tom put down his piece of chicken. “Listen, uh, Davey,” he said. “Are you mad at me for asking your mom to marry me?”
Davey’s mouth dropped. “When did you ask?”
It was Tom’s turn to be surprised. “She didn’t tell you?”
Davey shook his head.
“I asked her a couple of weeks ago. She still hasn’t said ‘yes.’” He took a sip of his beer. “How do you feel about my asking her?”
Davey thought for a moment, and then finally grinned. “I’m glad,” he said, and took a bite of chicken.
“Maybe you can put in a good word for me, then,” Tom suggested. “Help me talk your mom into it.”
Davey nodded and then winked at me. I gave him a thumbs-up and turned to Tom. “We were afraid we’d have to use a shotgun on you,” I told him. “You know — make it a shotgun wedding.”
Tom grinned. “Use it on Maggie. Make an honest man outta me.”
Davey and I nodded, and then continued eating the cold chicken. Tom was right; it was great with beer.
Just then, Davey let out a large belch and we all laughed.
“And that’s enough for you,” he said, playfully taking away the cans. “If your mother knew I let you have beer, she’d have my hide for it.”
“Tom?” I asked. “What was that you were saying about us putting in a good word for you with Maggie?” I pointedly looked at the beer.”
Tom’s eyes rolled and he put the beers back down in front of us. “Don’t think you guys can use blackmail on me,” he said with a frown.
“Not blackmail,” I said. “Bribery.”
Davey nodded. “Yeah – Pops.”
Tom’s expression softened, and he squeezed Davey’s shoulder. “Thanks, Davey.”
* * * * *
Back in our room, Davey put his arms around my neck and melted into me. “You happier now?” I asked quietly.
He nodded and kissed my neck. “I like Tom,” he said.
“I’m really happy for you Davey,” I told him, running my hands up and down the soft skin of his sides, feeling how slender he was against my body. “You could be getting a new step daddy.”
“Both of us,” he said, plunging his hands into the back of my boxers. “Since we’re sorta brothers.”
“You still horny, like me?” I asked.
He wriggled his eyebrows.
“See,” I said. “That’s the problem with staying hard so long. Makes you horny all night.”
He wriggled his eyebrows again. “We have all night. It’s Sunday tomorrow.”
Laughing, I wrapped my arms around his waist, hefting him up and I dumped him on the bed.
We wrestled around trying to be the first to get the other’s boxers off. It ended when I pinned Davey’s wrists with both hands, which made us both helpless. Our legs were tangled in two pairs of boxers.
Looking down into his smiling face, I playfully ground our crotches together. “My butt or yours?” I asked.
“Frot,” he answered happily.
We tried to untangle our legs, but became even more tangled. “Damn,” I said. “Are we going to have to sleep this way?”
Davey wriggled his eyebrows.
“Oh shit,” I said, releasing his wrists, and I wrapped my arms under him. “We can untangle later.”
Davey grabbed my butt and nibbled my ear. “I don’t wanna untangle.”
* * * * *
At Ed’s house the next afternoon, Hunter avoided being alone with either Davey or me. I decided to take the bull by the horns, and drew him off to one side for a quiet chat under a tree.
Hunter looked nervous. And that, I thought, is probably a good thing.
“Listen, uh… Davey told me what happened,” I said.
“C’mon, Hunter. We’re all friends. Don’t mess it up, OK?”
“What’s the deal anyway?” he asked with a look of frustration. “Why can’t Davey and I fool around a little? It never bothered you before.”
“Like hell it didn’t!” I snorted. “And there are a lot of reasons why you need to find somebody else to mess around with, and you know it! One reason is your dad. But the main reason is that Davey and I are… well, boyfriends. And you know that. We’re trying to be faithful to each other, and so I’d appreciate it if you don’t try to screw us up.”
“I won’t,” he said, frowning and crossing his arms over his chest. “I already found somebody else to mess with. After Davey wouldn’t, I went over to Letty’s house. We finally got it on.”
“You screwed Letty?” I asked, surprised.
“Yeah,” he answered defiantly. “She was great.”
“Tell me you used a condom.”
He shrugged. “Next time,” he said.
“Oh shit, Hunter! Remember what happened to Amy and me? Whatever you do, don’t knock Letty up.”
“Why? It worked out OK for you.”
I groaned. “You are so fucked-up, Hunter! Sometime I’ll tell you about it. Trust me — you don’t want to get Letty pregnant. Or anybody else, either.”
“I won’t,” he said confidently.
I pulled up my knees, wrapping my arms around them. “So how’d you like it?”
“It was OK.”
“So you like girls?” I asked.
He frowned at me. “Of course. I mean, I’m not gay like you guys. I just like to fool around, is all.”
I nodded and stood up. So much for this conversation. I started to walk away.
I stopped, looking back over my shoulder. “Yeah?”
He looked up at me apologetically. “You and Davey ever going to let me do it with you guys again?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
He nodded, and looked down at the ground. “Tell me when you two break up.”
“We aren’t going to break up,” I said.
He glanced up at me, an eyebrow raised. “Well, if you ever do.”
I shook my head and walked away.
* * * * *
Two nights later, while Mom watched the baby, Davey and I took Amy out on a date, going out for Mexican food, followed by bowling. While Amy wasn’t exactly back to top form for bowling, she knew a lot more about it than we did — embarrassingly more.
Amy was a good teacher, though, and by the second game, we were showing marked improvement. Our game wasn’t without a lot of laughs, however. At one point, after I’d guttered badly, Amy teased me, and our eyes met. Once again I was struck by how wonderful her smile was.
And then I became aware of Davey watching us, and quickly averted my eyes. Davey was a lot quieter for the rest of our game.
* * * * *
November became December. At school, Davey and I had created our own niche. Word made it around that we had outrun a truckload of jocks. And everyone knew that, with Chase’s help, we had managed to fight the jocks off in the hall. Those who didn’t like gays gave us a wide berth. Those who didn’t care gave us a kind of amused respect.
The thought that gay guys could be tough surprised everybody. But I was in for a surprise, too, when the cross-country coach approached Davey and me about going out for the team.
“You’re kidding,” I told him.
“I heard how well you guys run,” he said. Coach Wagner was a thin, bald man, a runner himself, whose passion for the sport evidently blinded him to the reality of our situation.
“Well, we run pretty good when there’s a bunch of jocks after us,” I said, moving to the side of the hall so as not to block traffic.
Davey snickered and I glanced at him. He was looking at the ground and I could tell he was remembering that chase, and probably the moment when we mooned them across Basse Road.
“I run every morning, early,” Coach said. “Why don’t you come for a run with me?”
“Coach,” I said, exasperatedly. “Jocks aren’t going to want us on the team.”
“I’ve heard the rumors, Bentolli,” he said with a frown, “and I don’t care what everyone else thinks. I have only one good runner on the cross-country team, and we haven’t done well in years. We need you two.”
“Yeah, well… we need to live a little longer, too,” I said. “It’s your team, but it’s our lives, you know?”
“Where do you run?” Davey interrupted.
I turned to him, open-mouthed. One look told me all — Davey was interested.
“We’ll start at the track,” Coach said. “Tomorrow morning at six.”
I groaned, frowning at both of them. “Will you guard us when we have to shower with the guys?” I asked.
He nodded. “Sure, if I have to. See you in the morning.”
As we walked away, I turned to Davey. “You don’t really want to do this, do you?”
He put his arm over my shoulder. “C’mon, Mickey. It could be fun.”
I thought of what Maggie said about wanting Davey to be like other high school students, but this would take so much time. “It’ll play hell with getting our homework done, helping with little David, and getting work done for the company,” I warned him.
Davey’s head dropped and he took his arm from my shoulder. “We don’t have to,” he said, reluctantly.
“You could still do it anyway,” I suggested.
He stopped short and I could see he was considering the possibilities. Then he looked at me curiously. “You don’t want to?” he asked.
I shrugged. “I’d like to, but if you want to do it on your own, I understand. We don’t have to do everything together, you know.”
Davey frowned at me.
“OK,” I said. “I was just trying to…” I searched for the words to explain.
“Be an asshole?” he said.
“No, Davey. I just didn’t want you to feel like you can’t have your own life. You know, do stuff just for yourself.”
Still frowning, he turned up the hall. “I don’t want to have my own life.”
“Davey?” I called after him, catching up. I grabbed his arm and dragged him to the side of the hall. “Look,” I whispered looking around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. “We’ll do the track team together. But I just want you to know, you can do things on your own. I think that’s important.”
He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. “The reason I want us to get married,” he said. “Is cause I want to always be with you.”
I leaned back against the wall beside him. A couple of senior girls passed by, staring at us. When they were past, I leaned his way and lowered my voice. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”
“Could have… fooled me,” Davey said.
“Davey, I’m sorry. Maybe we have a few things to work through, OK. You’re right. That’s exactly the same reason why I want to marry you, too. I just don’t ever want you to feel trapped.”
Davey slid over along the wall until our shoulders were touching. “Trap me,” he said.
The hall was almost empty. “Wanna skip the last class?” I asked. “Go to the office?” I wriggled my eyebrows.
He leaned close. “Now I do. You’re makin’ me hard, doin’ your eyebrows like that.”
“Conditioned response,” I said laughing. Pavlov would love us.
“Long story,” I said, smiling. “It just means doing this…” I wriggled my eyebrows, “is our private signal for ‘I want your body!’” I pushed off the wall. Davey followed.
“Listen, Davey,” I said, throwing my arm over his shoulder, “You know that unless we only run early in the mornings, sooner or later we’re going to have to mix with the jocks. Fred Roche better teach us self-defense soon.”
But Davey was already thinking cross-country. “Do you think we can win some races?”
I frowned at him. “With jocks chasing us, we better.”
We ducked out to the parking lot, and Davey took the driver’s seat. On the way to the office, I leaned his way and wriggled my eyebrows at him while rubbing inside his thigh. “Conditioning,” I said with a smile.
* * * * *
“So it never occurred to you,” I asked for the third time, just to rub it in, “that every one of these planting beds you put in was going to require weeding?”
Davey reached over to where I was squatting to weed and gave me a small shove onto my ass.
I laughed and got back up to continue. “It’s worth it, Davey,” I said, looking over the yard on the side of my house where we were working. “It’s all starting to look really good.”
Davey paused and looked at me. “You think so, Mickey?”
“Well, don’t you think so?”
Davey smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” And then we both returned to weeding.
Even though it was already late morning, the temperature was barely into the eighties. Scattered clouds shaded the day, while birds sang in the trees above us. All things considered, working in our yards wasn’t a bad way to spend this Saturday.
Mrs. Sullivan had just picked up Amy and little David to take them to lunch and out visiting. Mom had a big project at work and would be at the office all day. No one was around but us.
I stood up to stretch, and then admired Davey as he continued to work, bent over a bed of Mexican heather. I watched as the muscles in his back played through his skin-tight tank top, and I let my eyes trace the pleasant “V” of his torso down to his slender waist and low-riding running shorts. We hadn’t made love the night before, and Davey was looking damned good at the moment.
I knew I could turn Davey on, but wondered if he really found me as desirable as I found him. So I decided that I would try to turn him on — but not by feeling him up. No, I wanted to be subtle. I wanted to try getting him hot without him knowing that I was trying to do it. I thought I’d start by taking my shirt off. Then pull my shorts down low on my hips. Then maybe unbutton my pants button; I was wearing no underwear. Then maybe work down my zipper to the top of my pubes. Maybe stand next to him while he was bent over weeding and rub my package.
When Davey stood up beside me to stretch, I pulled off my shirt. As I tossed it to the side, I was pleased to see his eyes drinking me in. But then Davey just stepped right up and planted one hand on my belly and ran the other up my back, while he kissed my shoulder.
“No, fair,” I jokingly pouted. “I was going to try to turn you on without you knowing that’s what I was trying to do. And then you just come right over and start feeling me up. You spoiled the whole thing!”
Davey grinned and stepped back, putting his hands on his hips. “I’m sorry, Mickey. Go ahead… turn me on.”
“Well, not with you leering at me like that,” I said, putting my shirt back on. “Look, pretend we’re working and that you don’t even know me, okay? Pretend I’m a stranger — the best-looking stud you’ve ever seen — and let me try to come on to you.”
Davey grinned, shook his head as if I was a nut, and squatted back down to weed.
I grabbed the bottom of my shirt to pull it off. “Well, you’re supposed to watch me take off my shirt,” I said.
He looked back up at me.
I pulled the shirt way over my head, stretching my torso, flexing my chest and arm muscles, and hardening my abs.
Davey chuckled and turned back to weeding. I knelt down by him and pressed my shoulder to his. He moved away. I moved closer so that our shoulders would touch again.
“I’m sorry, stranger,” he said. “I already have a boyfriend.”
I looked up at him in surprise.
He shrugged. “I’m sorry,” he insisted, “but I promised Mickey I’d stay faithful. No strangers.”
“Arrrgh!” I plunged my weeding tool into the ground and turned on him. He jumped up and backed from me, but I charged, burying my shoulder in his gut and lifting him up onto my shoulder.
He laughed as I carried him, ass-high, towards the corner of the house. Davey jerked up the back of my shorts, giving me a wedgie, so I slapped his butt. When I bent to pick up the hose, he tried to get away and I had to hang on to him, hang on to the hose, and try to turn on the tap all at the same time. I never made it to the tap.
He struggled to get the hose from my grasp, pulling it down under my leg and back behind, tying me in a knot as I tried to turn with him. When he couldn’t wrest it from me, he let go and made a dash back around the side of the house. With a cry, I was after him, and I tackled him to the ground next to the bed of Mexican heather.
I wrestled him to the ground and our legs tangled, crotches tight against the top of each other’s legs. The fingers of my right hand were tangled with those of his left, and those of my left with those of his right. Our chests pressed hard together as we each tried to get an upper hand. But we ended in a stalemate, laughing and facing each other on our sides, legs and fingers still locked together.
Our laughter faded and Davey’s smile softened. “You always turn me on… Mickey,” he said. “You don’t have to try.”
“But,” I said, moving my hips against his, “you aren’t even hard.”
He freed his hand from mine, and still smiling, stroked my jaw. Looking into my eyes, his smile grew even gentler. “You turn on… my heart.”
His eyes dropped to my lips as he ran his finger over them and I could smell the dirt on his hands. “Every morning,” he said softly, “I wake up and watch you sleep or dress, and I fall in love with you… all over again.” He raised his eyes to mine and leaned forward until our lips met.
Then I put my arm under his head to cushion it. “You sure are in a romantic mood,” I observed.
He smiled. “I’ve been thinkin’ a lot about you lately.”
“I like what you’ve been thinking,” I said. Then I smiled. “Now you’re getting hard. I can feel it.”
He smiled. “So are you.”
I moved my hips forward, pushing his back. Then he pushed his forward, pushing mine back. We began a see-sawing of our hips and kissed again. I ran my hand under his shirt and felt the fine body hairs on his belly. “You don’t get bored with me?” I asked, pressing my palm against the hardness of his abs.
His breath washed over my lips as he looked into my eyes. “Doofus,” he said, his smile warm. “You get better… all the time.”
I almost fell into those blue eyes. “Do you have any idea how incredible you are?” I asked in a whisper, my lips just touching his.
He nodded and our foreheads touched. “When you look at me, I know,” he said.
I rubbed my forehead affectionately on his, and then leaned back thoughtfully. “Davey,” I asked. “Do other guys still get you horny?”
He frowned, obviously wondering why I asked.
“No seriously. I mean, it’s been really strange lately. I don’t think about other guys as much, but when one does turn me on, it always seems that there’s something about him that reminds me of you. And honest, I’m not just saying that.”
He smiled. “I don’t think about other guys.” He grasped my shoulders and gave a squeeze. “I concentrate on you.”
I cocked an eyebrow.
“Well, I try,” he said.
I felt my cock break free of my waistband, but continued watching Davey’s smile. I chuckled. “All this would seem so… mushy,” I observed, “if it weren’t for all the hot sex we’ve been having.”
He giggled. “We’re getting better.” He wrapped his hand around the end of my cock, and lowered his voice. “I think about you all the time when we aren’t together. I think about you in all my classes. And when we’re together, sometimes I think I can cum in my pants just lookin’ at you.”
My cock twitched in his hand and he grinned. His other hand traveled down my back and into my shorts, cupping my ass. And grabbing me by my butt, he brought our see-sawing hips tighter together. “You wanna make me cum in my pants right now?” Davey asked, his eyes twinkling.
I pulled his belly forward against mine. “You wanna cum… inside me?” I asked, wriggling my eyebrows.
He grinned and wriggled his eyebrows back. We rolled away from each other long enough for us to kick off our shorts, and then we rolled back together. I cupped his balls with my hand and he cupped mine. “How do you want to do it?” I asked.
“Let’s suck each other.” He leaned closer. “I want to suck you.”
He didn’t have to say it twice. I rotated around into a sixty-nine position, pulling his bottom leg forward to rest my head on, and put my own bottom leg forward to cushion his head. His thick cock pointed straight up over his shirt while his balls hung loosely over his leg. Davey was sexy as hell in just a tank top.
I always liked looking at Davey’s equipment, close like this, and took my time fondling him before taking the end of his cock into my mouth. I could taste his precum, and enjoyed its thickness on my tongue. His cock filled my mouth and while I tested its hardness with my lips, I used my hands to feel over his belly, hips, butt, and legs.
Davey stretched himself in the opposite direction, tucking his head between my legs, his chin nestled into the back of my balls, and he licked my perineum the way I liked while his hands danced lightly over my legs and cock. I lifted my top leg higher and Davey tongued closer to my hole. Using his chin to apply pressure as he licked, he moved slowly back from my crack, to between my legs, over my balls, and then to the base of my cock. By the time he licked up my shaft and closed his warm mouth over my crown, I had gobbled him down to the pubes.
I got into it, wrapping my arms behind Davey to grab on to his butt. I concentrated on the feel and taste of him in my mouth and throat, the smell of his balls and the firmness of his glutes and leg muscles. I concentrated on the love I was making to giving (delete) him with my tongue and my lips, enjoying that almost as much as what his mouth and hands were doing to me.
When Davey’s balls began to tighten up, I spat out his cock long enough to tell him to forget about me and just enjoy what I was about to do. He did, and I went all out to make it intense. I succeeded, drawing out a loud cry when his orgasm hit.
Afterwards, when he recovered, he worked on me again, licking around my crown and fondling my balls before plunging back down my shaft. He pushed my hips back at the waist so that my butt was flat on the ground and my cock pointed up into his mouth. He pulled my foreskin back from the base so that my cock felt stretched and then began a masterful swirling action on the end with his tongue.
“Oh, damn, you’re good,” I moaned, and absently played with his cock while I enjoyed his attention. My playing kept him rock-hard and I eventually took the end of his cock back into my mouth for a little distracted sucking while he surpassed himself working on me. He didn’t try deep-throating me. He knew I was just as happy for him to stroke what he couldn’t swallow comfortably. He began stroking hard, while his lips pressed tightly half way down my shaft and his tongue worked over my crown and shaft. I sucked harder on his cock by reflex, especially when my own orgasm hit hard.
By the time he sucked out my last shudder, his hips were beginning to pump into my mouth again. His concentration drifted from his mouth, and his tongue began to feel awfully raspy over my super-sensitive glans.
“OK, OK!” I panted.
Davey lifted his head off me and gently kissed the tip of my cock.
I laid my head back in the grass and sighed deeply. Looking up through the trees, I realized the birds were still singing and saw patches of deep blue sky between the branches. Oh, that’s where the world went to, I thought. Then Davey’s cock throbbed beside my face. I grabbed it. “Want to do my other end?” I asked, kissing it.
“Yeah,” I heard him answer in a thick voice.
So I rolled up onto all fours. Davey casually moved around behind me, and I felt his face press between my cheeks. Soon his tongue was probing into me while his hand reached between my legs and milked my cock; and I found myself growing hard again.
Davey moved up on his knees and held my waist as his cock found me and pushed in, filling me. A puff of welcome breeze wafted through to carry away our mutual sighs. He made a couple of beginning thrusts, then ran his palms under my pecs and sat back on his haunches, pulling me back with him.
As I sat all the way down on him and began to lift and drop myself on his cock, he rubbed my nipples and kissed my back. In the shade of the tree, we moved together, rising and falling in a slow, sexual dance; Davey’s hands roaming over my sides, chest and belly.
He was chewing the nape of my neck when he wrapped his arms tightly around my belly and rose up, pushing deep into me. I gasped as his shaft pressed hard against my prostate.
“Ummm. You feel… good, Mickey,” he mumbled between my shoulder blades. “But I want to watch your face. Turn around, OK?”
“My idea, exactly,” I said, rising to my feet.
Davey stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back on his elbows, cock pointed up, waiting for me to sit back down. I straddled him again, facing him this time. Once I guided him in, I put my hands behind his back and pulled him up so I could kiss him as I gripped him with my insides, rising and falling slowly on his shaft.
His cock stretched me, massaging good spots inside. We sucked on each other’s lips and stroked one tongue on another. Then our mouths parted and we watched each other’s faces. With each small thrust up from his hips, he watched my reaction and, as I moved or squeezed, I watched his.
We kissed again. Then I lowered him back down to the grass and bent over him, my hair hanging like a curtain around his face.
“Sometimes,” he whispered, “I can’t believe all this is happening… how much I love you, Mickey… and how you love me…”
”I know. It seems unreal sometimes,” I whispered and bent over farther, pulling his cock with me and pressing my cock to his belly. I slipped my hands under his back and put my cheek to his.
Davey wrapped his arms over my neck and hugged me as he rocked up with his hips and I slid back and forth, moving him inside me. “Mickey,” he asked softly, “what happens when I get old? What happens if I get bald or fat or ugly?”
“Doofus,” I whispered. “You couldn’t be ugly if you tried. And I won’t let you get fat.” I tongued the hollow under his ear. “If you get bald,” I whispered, “I’ll miss your beautiful hair, but we’ll cut it short and you’ll grow a beard and be sexier than ever. And as for getting old, well,” I nibbled his ear, “I’ve always liked older men; two weeks older.”
He hugged my neck hard and kissed my cheek, and then found my mouth with his. He kissed me hungrily and began bucking faster. “I want to watch you cum,” he whispered.
Giving him a final kiss, I sat up and began to rock my hips forward and back, faster and faster in time with his thrusts. My erection wagged out over his stomach, but I wouldn’t need to stroke it; he was doing all the stimulating I needed from the inside.
Davey’s eyes roved approvingly over my torso, so I stretched, putting my hands behind my head. I sucked in my gut and rose a little each time I rocked my hips, so my muscles were tensing from my thighs to my butt, to my back, to my gut, to my chest, to my neck; and Davey’s hands roamed over me, feeling my muscles appreciatively. Then he reached between my legs and pulled my balls forward, stroking under them. The pleasure caused my gut to convulse involuntarily and I bent over him.
Putting my hands on his pecs, I pushed my butt back, rocking my hips faster to match his thrusts and the sensations were incredible. Davey put his hands behind his head in order to lift it and look down his body to watch.
I pulled my knees tighter against his sides so I could feel him between my thighs, and I rubbed my perineum on his belly as I scooted forward and back. Each time I did, his cock stretched my hole as it wagged back and forth inside. Suddenly it felt like my balls were pulling up completely inside me, beginning an orgasm that exploded up through me and out onto Davey as far as his chin. I cried out, almost doubling over and clamped my butt hard on his cock. As soon as I was done, he grabbed my thighs, gritted his teeth, and bucked frantically up into me, whimpering loudly as he started to climax.
I ground my butt hard down into his lap, driving him up into me as far as I could, and watched his face as I pushed him past his initial orgasm, stretching it out for him until he arched his back and dug his fingers into my thighs. I stopped grinding when he finally began to relax, and then realized that I was dripping sweat onto him. Davey’s body had flushed red and glistened with a combination of our sweat and my cum. His belly heaved with his panting, rolling my softening cock back and forth.
“You OK?” I asked, taking a deep breath.
He kept his eyes closed, but a satisfied smile spread over his face, and he nodded. “You are sooo good!”
I bent down, and kissed his chin. “It takes two,” I said. “Thanks.”
He slipped from inside me when I reached for his shorts. I tucked them under the back of his head. Then I retrieved my shirt and wiped him off, including his cock. I lay down next to him, putting my hands behind my head to look up through the trees.
“Ummm,” Davey murmured and rolled over onto me, throwing his leg over my legs and an arm over my middle. He put his head on my chest and sighed. “You smell good when you’re sweaty.”
“Damn, you must love me,” I said with a chuckle.
“Uh-huh,” he said, snuggling onto me.
The wind blew through the branches above and their swaying was hypnotic. “I sure like landscaping with you,” I mumbled just before I fell asleep.
. . .
“Maybe I should take a picture.”
My eyes flew open to find Fred Roche standing over us with his arms crossed.
“I even have a headline for the tabloid,” he said with a mirthless smile. “Geek love.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Get it? Greek love — computer geeks?”
Davey scrambled for his pants, but I figured it was too late for modesty and stood slowly, brushing grass from my ass and back.
“I’ll grant you this,” he said, nodding. “You two are about the finest looking sixteen year-olds I’ve ever seen. You probably drive the girls crazy.”
I shook out my shorts and pulled them on, but left my cum-covered shirt in a ball on the ground.
“Yep,” Fred said. “The tabloids would pay big bucks for a picture of you two lying together like that.”
“I’ll take a full set of glossies,” I said.
“I’m serious, boss,” Fred frowned.
Davey stepped behind me, put his arms around my waist, and rested his chin on my shoulder.
Fred shook his head again. “I’m not sure how we’re going to make this work. I’m willing to bet that the computer trade magazines will discover the real Carlson and Bentolli by the spring, and when they do, the national press is likely to pick up on the story. When that happens, if the tabloids get wind that you are gay, your faces will be all over the place. We need to put that off as long as we can.”
I rested my hands on Davey’s arms around my middle and leaned back against him. “Because of our contracts?” I asked.
“Yes sir. You two need to be careful. If you’re sleeping around, try cutting back. It’d be best if you slept only with each other.”
“That’s what we’re doing,” Davey said, squeezing my middle.
Fred’s eyes dropped to Davey’s arms. “Are you guys this demonstrative in public?”
I shrugged. “You found us naked together. What’s to hide?” Then I shook my head. “No, we’re not this demonstrative in public.”
“Good,” he said approvingly. “And gentlemen, try not to screw in the bushes. Sooner or later, somebody’s going to be there with a camera.”
“When they are,” I answered, with a grin. “I will take a full set of glossies.”
Fred sighed. “If you want glossies, let me find a discreet photographer. But shit, boss, use some sense. I like working for you two. My job is security for Carlson-Bentolli, but my special project is going to be you two boys.”
“Sooner or later, the world is going to discover who you are,” he said. “And when that happens, your lives will go through some big changes. I can help you through that. I have contacts and resources all over the world who can help you find a new life; an adventurous life.” He winked at me. “I think you two would like some adventure. But right now, can we go inside your house to talk? I have a list of things Ed wanted me to go over with you, and then afterward, maybe I can show you some self-defense moves like you asked me to.”
Fred frowned. “I still think it’s time to get you bodyguards, Michael,” he said.
I ignored him and taking Davey’s hand, we turned toward the back of the house. “What types of contacts and resources do you have?” I asked.
“Well,” he said, flashing me a smile. “I hear you guys like fishing. I’ve got a buddy with an eighty-foot charter yacht out of the Yucatan. How’d you like to do that next summer?”
Davey’s hand almost crushed mine, but I wasn’t so sure. “Would he mind a couple of gay passengers?” I asked, not at all joking.
“He is gay,” Fred answered with a smile.
* * * * *
Everyone else stayed inside that night when Davey and I came out on the porch to play our guitar and recorder. We hadn’t been at it long when Davey set the recorder down in his lap and let me play on by myself.
I could feel his eyes on my face and, whenever I glanced at him, found him looking at me with almost embarrassing admiration. Finally, I shook my head. “You aren’t getting ready to cum in your pants, are you?”
“I was just thinkin’,” he said. “I want to do what Fred said.”
“Oh, the yacht next summer?”
“No. The pictures,” he chuckled and leaned closer. “I want naked pictures of you.”
I had to grin. “Yeah, I thought I’d like to have some of you… the way you look in the morning, your head on the pillow.” I leaned closer to him. “I even thought about some of us together.”
“I thought of video,” he said, his eye dancing merrily. “I want a video of you doin’ the…” He put his hands behind his head and rocked his hips in a very seductive imitation of my dance on his belly earlier in the day.
I grinned. “I think I want you to practice that later on me.” Then I winked. “I thought about putting mirrors up all over our bedrooms when we build our house.”
Davey giggled. “Let’s do it… Let’s do it all.”
“Well you ask Fred about the video,” I said, laughing. “I’d be embarrassed.”
Davey ran a hand up the back of my shirt. “I love it when you’re embarrassed!”
“As if that’s a newsflash,” I snorted.
Davey leaned close again. “Wanna do the yacht too?”
“Sure,” I nodded, and then put my guitar down in my lap, thinking “Does it ever scare you, Davey? Us being rich?”
He sat back and shook his head in surprise. “No.”
I shrugged. “It does me. Sometimes I think I’d like to give it all away before people find out who we are.”
Davey frowned. “Why?”
I lowered the guitar to the floor and pulled my legs up to sit cross-legged in the swing. “I don’t know. I’m just afraid if we’re rich, it’ll mess everything up. It could even make it harder to hang on to each other.” I smiled and rubbed his leg.
Davey frowned at me. “But we trust each other.”
“I know,” I said, rubbing his leg while he rubbed my back. “It’s just that crazy things happen to rich people.”
Davey chewed his lip. “You said we’d do good things with the money.”
I nodded. “Sure, we can.”
Taking his hand from my back, Davey pulled his legs up to sit cross-legged beside me. “I want to be rich,” he said. “I want to have money to buy you things, and go on a yacht, and build a house.”
“Sometimes,” I told him, “I dream of us just living in a mountain lodge somewhere, or in a shack on a Caribbean island — just you and me.” I glanced at him. “I really think I’d be happy.”
“No Burger King?” he asked with a smile. “No underwear department?”
“We’ll make trips into town,” I said. “But most of the time, I’ll keep you naked and we won’t need to eat.”
We both grew quiet, thinking. “Mickey,” Davey said, “I think we’ll have fun being rich together.”
“Well,” I shrugged. “I don’t think we have much choice.”
There was a stirring at the door, and a parade came out onto the porch, Tom in the lead with a tray of root beer floats. He winked at us as he set the tray on the table. “I told your moms you guys liked these.”
I left the swing so Amy could sit in it, but took little David from her and sat on the floor with him in my lap. Tom and Maggie took the couch and Mom took a chair.
“Actually,” Tom said, “I’m trying to pacify Maggie.”
Maggie frowned at him.
“She’s mad,” he said to Davey and me, “because I was chasing a perp today and the guy pulled a knife on me.”
“Please, Tom,” Maggie said. “Don’t talk about it.”
I saw the way she shuddered and noticed Mom’s concerned look, and had a sudden insight as to why Maggie might not have said ‘yes’ to Tom’s proposal of marriage.
“Tom?” I asked, “Are you a good cop?”
He frowned. “You mean an honest cop?”
“No. I mean are you good at what you do?”
Both Mom and Maggie looked up at me, wondering what I was up to. They knew me.
“Yeah, I’m a damned good cop,” he answered.
I wiggled little David’s arms and it looked to me like he smiled. I smiled back, but spoke to Tom. “Our head of security is looking for bodyguards for a couple of our people,” I said. “Would you ever consider doing something like that?”
I stole a glance in time to see Maggie look hopefully at Tom.
“Why do they need bodyguards?” he asked skeptically.
Leaning back against the porch railing, I frowned at him. “I’m serious, Tom. There are a slew of military and government agencies as well as some big corporations that are about to license our security software. Fred thinks we may have some big security issues of our own.”
Maggie’s eyes stayed on Tom as he took a sip of his float and backed into the couch. “So who needs protecting?”
“Davey and me,” I said simply.
“Seriously?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
Mom and Maggie looked alarmed so I decided I should explain more. “It’s probably no big deal, Tom. Probably not more than protecting us from an occasional reporter.”
“Doesn’t sound like you need a bodyguard to me,” he said, and Maggie looked totally confused with emotions; hope and disappointment, and alarm for us.
I could see it might be tricky, trying to get getting Tom interested enough to consider the job without worrying our moms. Oh well, they should probably know. “Tom, Fred is former army intelligence and he’s really good at this. He’s serious about hiring bodyguards for us. I want you to talk to Fred. He’s the one who’d have to hire you anyway.”
Tom glanced at Maggie and I wondered if he’d even consider it if it weren’t for her.
“Tom,” I continued. “We don’t want just anybody following us around. I wouldn’t have mentioned this if Davey and I didn’t already respect you. Besides, you know about Davey and me and won’t be scandalized because of our… orientation. And we like being with you…” I glanced at Mom who was still frowning over the idea of us needing bodyguards. “And best of all,” I said with a wink in his direction, “you can buy us beer until we’re twenty-one.”
“Like hell he can,” Mom guffawed.
I couldn’t help smiling, hoping that I might have diffused her concern.
Tom rolled his eyes.
“Tom, talk to Fred, please,” I said.
He looked at Maggie who seconded the notion with her eyes, and then he nodded.
That night, Maggie gave me a huge kiss on the cheek after Tom went back to their room. “You know why I haven’t accepted his proposal, don’t you?” she asked.
“I think I can guess.”
Davey looked from her to me and then back again, obviously confused.
“Does Fred really want you to have body guards?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” I nodded. “And I bet he’ll like Tom. I know Tom will like Fred. He’s a man’s man.”
She kissed me hard on the cheek again and turned for her room.
Davey grabbed me by the shoulders. “What?”
So I told him that I suspected Maggie was afraid to marry a cop; afraid to marry Tom because he was a cop. And I explained to Davey why I told Tom about the bodyguard job.
“Will he take it?” Davey asked.
I shrugged. “I think your mom will marry him if he does.”
“Ha!” he yelped and hugged my neck. “See,” he said, squeezing me hard. “We will do good things cause we’re rich.”
* * * * *
Knox called the second week of December and found Davey and me at Mom’s house. He was pleased to hear that I still practiced on the guitar and wanted to know what pieces I was working on. Then he wanted to know how Davey and I were doing. Then he got to the point. “You remember telling me about that nightclub for gay teens you went to in California?”
“Well I’ve been thinking. You know, poor little Hudson is still a virgin and he’s having trouble meeting other gays.”
“Are you thinking of opening a night club?” I asked, chuckling.
“Not exactly, but,” he paused. “I have been thinking of having a party; a coming out party for Hudson. I know a place we can use. Maybe set it up like the club in California and see if we can’t find some gay teens here in town to invite.”
“When are you thinking of having it?”
“Not sure,” he said. “I wanted to know what you thought.”
“I like the idea,” I said. “I’m just not sure how many gay teens we can come up with.”
“I know a couple besides Hudson,” Knox said. “Oh, I didn’t tell you; I did some work with a young dance company a couple weeks ago. There’s a black boy, a dancer, who’s really spectacular. You’ve got to meet him.”
“Davey and I are real happy together, Knox,” I said. “In fact, maybe we better not come to the party.”
Davey looked at me curiously from across the table.
“Don’t you dare think about not coming, Michael.” Knox said. “You’ve got to be there. You and Davey are going to be my stars.”
We talked more about the party, and then hung up. I explained Knox’s idea to Davey and tried to think how to find more gay teens, and then had an idea. Amy and little David were out visiting the alternative school for unwed mothers that she would attend next semester, so I just walked into my old room. Digging around, I found the phone number for Jake in California and called it. He wasn’t home and I left a message.
Very late that night, Jake called Davey’s house. “Michael, honey, of course I remember you. Are you coming to California?”
I explained Knox’s idea, and then explained why I called. “Since you’re from San Antonio, I wondered if you might know some gay teens here.”
There was a howl at the other end of the line. “How many do you want?”
“Hold on, Jake. We don’t want any guys who are over nineteen years old. And not too many guys with as much personality as you,” I said with a chuckle, hoping to not offend. I figured if Brandon was a good friend of Jake’s, then Jake must know some normal gays.
“When are you going to have this party?” he asked.
“We haven’t set a date.”
“Make it New Years Eve.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Why?” he laughed. “So I can be there, baby.”
Davey was quiet that night, but I didn’t think much about it.
* * * * *
Chase was between girlfriends and began to join our after-school group. Mom’s house started to resemble a student union, complete with day care.
One afternoon, Chase and I were playing chess while Davey sat close by holding little David. Davey slowly moved his finger to the tip of little David’s nose and then pulled it away. “Say ‘Uncle… Davey.’” He lowered his face close to David’s and smiled. “Uncle… Davey.”
“He hasn’t even mastered burping yet, Davey,” I said. “And when he does speak, the first thing he’s going to say is ‘Go Cowboys!’”
Chase moved a pawn.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” I asked.
“Geez, Bent, it’s only my third move!”
“OK, have it your way.”
He rolled his eyes.
The lady from the school district came out from the kitchen, followed by Amy and Larice. She had been talking with Amy about the coming semester at the alternative school. Amy and Larice saw her out the door, and then came into the living room with us.
Larice looked down at the chessboard. “How many moves?” she asked.
“Three so far,” Chase answered.
“Well I’ve lasted twenty-two with him. Beat that.”
Amy leaned over Davey from behind and rubbed his shoulders while smiling down at little David. The baby looked up at Amy and began to cry.
“Damn,” Amy said, backing away. “He gets hungry every time he sees me. I’m just a big milk bottle to him.”
Chase looked up at Amy. “Damn, the kid has shitty taste. You’re no milk bottle, Amy!”
There was a moment of awkward silence as Amy blushed, and then Chase did, too. He took a nervous sip of Coke.
Larice broke the silence. “Well I don’t think it’s fair. Little David seems to be fine with any of the boys holding him, but he cries when I hold him.”
“That’s because,” I said, “he sees you as a chocolate milk bottle.”
Chase spewed Coke over the chessboard and Larice biffed me on the head.
* * * * *
There were already three members on the cross-country team, and all three had the same, stringy body type. Davey and I stood apart, waiting for the coach. We were to run with the team for their last workout of the semester.
“They all have flat butts,” I whispered to Davey.
“I didn’t look,” he said, smiling.
“Yeah, right,” I said. “If you start to lose your butt, we quit the team.”
When coach arrived, he introduced us. Patrick, a tall senior, had light brown hair with golden highlights, and a friendly face. Kyle, a junior with an unfriendly face, also had brown hair. The lone sophomore, Andrew, with black hair and dark eyes and similar coloring to mine, seemed shy.
Patrick led out, and at first, we stayed grouped together.
Davey might like to look at studs, but babies, small animals, and shy people always attracted him. Davey ran alongside Andrew and struck up a conversation. I ran with Patrick and quickly decided that he was the one good runner that Coach Wagner claimed to have.
We ran easily and I think Patrick was impressed. He asked about when and where Davey and I had been running.
When he was ready to pick up the pace, I signaled Davey forward and we stayed with Patrick, pulling away from the other two. Conversation died away as Patrick quickened our cadence.
It was a good run, and as we closed on the school, Patrick kicked, and Davey and I were hard pressed to keep up. But keep up we did, ending in almost a dead heat, Patrick only a step ahead and Davey one behind me.
Coach Wagner was pleased. “What’d I tell you Pat? This is gonna be a great year!”
Davey and I had talked about showering up at home, especially since our pubes had only grown back enough to begin to curl. But since we’d be traveling as a team and have to shower with them eventually, I figured we ought to find out now whether this would work. Besides, it was no longer that obvious that we had shaved each other’s pubic hair.
Any optimism I had about the team, or curiosity about all those athletic male bodies in the showers, was forgotten as Davey and I entered the locker room at the same time as the rest of the track team. I was really concerned when I found that Larry was changing only two lockers away.
He glared at me as we all began to strip for the showers.
“Hey,” I said. “I did what you said, joined the cross-country team. Now you don’t have to beat me up.”
Larry didn’t answer. I had to admit, though, the guy had a great body. There was plenty of muscle and no fat on him.
As Davey and I wrapped towels around ourselves and headed for the showers, it seemed to me that every single one of those guys looked our bodies up and down.
There were three shower towers equally spaced in the large, tiled shower room. As we took off our towels to hang them, a lot of eyes went first to my cock, then Davey’s, then back to mine.
“If you drop your soap, fellas,” Larry said, walking past. “Don’t bend over.”
Well he had a bare butt and I had a towel. I winked at Davey and held up the towel in a popping gesture at Larry. It was only a joke, and, I know, stupid bravado considering this was Larry’s domain I was surrounded by Larry’s friends.
Everyone pointed Larry back to me. “He was gonna pop you,” one of them accused.
Larry, with a wicked smile, returned to grab his towel from its hook and squared off against me.
We circled each other, everyone backing up to give us room. “I was just joking,” I said.
Larry’s smile widened and he made a feint toward my thigh. When he pulled back, I snapped the towel at the back of his hand and caught him with a loud pop.
“Damn!” he yelped and snapped three times in rapid succession toward my legs. But I backed up and then came at him, whipping half a dozen rapid strikes onto his legs, blessing my swim team experience.
“Holy shit!” he cried out backing away.
I was doing too well. A couple of his friends grabbed up their towels and came at me from the side. I wheeled, snapping them back, and wheeled to snap in Larry’s direction as he tried to come in from my open side. Then I saw Davey out of the corner of my eye, wetting the tip of his towel in the shower. I moved toward Larry, trying to draw their attention my way as Davey came up behind them.
Several guys tried to yell a warning to them, but too late. Whack! — Whack! Davey got both of Larry’s buddies on the butt. They turned on him, but I was ready and snapped both their butts myself. Larry took the opportunity and caught me with a strike on the hip.
And then, suddenly, several guys were grabbing towels. It was all I could do to snap fast enough in every direction to keep a closing circle from taking me. One dark-skinned guy with a long, dangling cock, kept trying to catch me in the balls. When he snapped me above the pubes, I stepped toward him and caught him square on the cock. With a howl, he dropped to one knee.
Matt, a tall, slender guy I’d seen doing the hurdles, wet the end of his towel and stepped my way, twirling his towel. I snapped the others back just as Matt popped my right thigh. I popped him and we went back and forth blazingly fast, inflicting sharp snaps all over each other’s legs until finally I backed off because Larry’s other friends were getting me everywhere else.
“Ha!” Matt cried, leaping forward and stretched his towel down from over his head, almost in a fencer’s stance. He smiled, and there was a twinkle in his eye. The guy was actually having fun. Most of the other smiles weren’t so generous.
Three guys had backed Davey to a wall and I dashed past Matt and a couple of other attackers to catch two of the guys attacking Davey on their butts. When they jumped aside, I joined Davey at the wall.
I counted eight jocks, cocks swinging and towels snapping, advancing on us. And to make matters worse, I saw Patrick and Kyle behind them, reaching for their towels as well. As more and more snaps caught Davey and me on our legs and flanks, I wondered if these guys would accept surrender or if we’d go down in a feeding frenzy.
That’s when Patrick and Kyle waded in — on our side! They started snapping our attacker’s butts right and left. As those guys turned to defend, Davey and I got their backsides.
“What the hell are you doing?” Larry bellowed at Patrick and Kyle. “Are you helping them?”
“Hey,” Patrick yelled back, snapping several times in Larry’s direction. “They’re cross-country.”
I caught a jock just right on the inside of his thigh and he went hopping off, howling. That opened a path to Larry and I jumped forward, catching his left butt cheek with two rapid whacks. Larry turned toward me and Patrick got him on the right butt cheek.
But I had left myself open and took several snaps to both sides. Davey waded toward me like cavalry to the rescue, snapping rapidly to back guys away, and I moved toward him. Just then, Coach Wagner hollered from one of the two doorways to the shower room. “That’s enough!”
One thing about jocks; they obey a coach. The fight stopped immediately and guys returned their towels to towel hooks.
There were a few snickers while everyone finished showering and guys spotted welts and bruises on other guys butts. The guy I snapped on the cock had a scarlet spot on it and glowered at me whenever I glanced in his direction, which I had to do a couple of times just to admire my handiwork.
At least Davey and I didn’t need to worry about getting erections around all those naked bodies that day, though I did check out a few. I even checked Larry’s butt when he headed for the door and I had to stifle a laugh. A dozen welts adorned his cheeks.
Matt, at the next showerhead, laughed behind me. He’d seen Larry’s cheeks, too. When I turned in his direction, he gave me a wink. “You should see yours,” he said with a chuckle. “You’ve got more spots than a leopard.”
“Yeah, look how many of you it took,” I pointed out.
He shrugged. “Maybe next time I’ll be on the cross-country side.”
I was surprised and nodded a thank you.
Davey, Patrick, and I were putting on our shoes when Larry shoved past on his way out. “This isn’t over Bentolli.” The three of us turned to watch as Larry stopped to give us the benefit of a final glare.
“He keeps saying that,” Davey said loudly.
I leaned toward Davey. “He’s just mad cause he doesn’t have anyone to kiss his owies.”
Patrick guffawed. And Larry stepped back toward us fuming. “I have a girl friend, asshole.”
I shook my head. “Now that’s a girl with a strong stomach.”
Larry shot me the finger and stalked out.
Patrick stood up, shaking his head. “I think it’s going to be dangerous being on the same team as you Bentolli.”
“Yep,” I said, standing up. “Life is just one big adventure for me. At least you know we’re good in a towel fight.”
As Davey and I climbed into the car, I couldn’t help grinning. “Damn, that was almost fun. We did good.” Then I glanced at Davey. “You and me, Davey. You and me. We can take ‘em all on!”
Davey watched me put the key into the ignition. “Mickey,” he said. “Hold your hand up.”
I held it up, then both hands. And they were steady as rocks.
“Wow,” Davey said.
I gripped the steering wheel with both hands and let out a Texas howl. “Damn, I feel good!” I shouted.
“See,” Davey said. “We’re gonna like the cross-country team.”
“Well,” I said, putting the car into drive, “as long as you kiss all my owies.”
* * * * *
The week before Christmas, Davey grew increasingly quiet and distracted. When he disappeared three entire afternoons, I tried not to worry. He said it was to Christmas shop, and there was no reason not to believe him. But I wondered why I couldn’t go with him.
“You can’t be buying me that many presents,” I speculated, as we lay in bed that third night. “Why can’t I go with you?” I tried to look casual as I asked. “You are Christmas shopping, right?”
He frowned at me. “You don’t believe me.”
I looked him in the eye. “I just wonder if you’re up to something?”
He climbed from bed angrily and turned on the light. Then he grabbed Grandpa’s plaque from the wall and handed it to me. He pointed to the spot. “What does it say there?”
I looked to where his finger pointed. “It says,” I acknowledged, “that love ‘believes all.’ So does that mean I’m supposed to believe everything you tell me,” I asked with a raised eyebrow.
He put his nose an inch from mine. “It means I won’t lie to you because you will believe me.”
“Geez, Davey,” I said, apologetically. “It’s just… three days Christmas shopping for me?”
“And maybe one more,” he said, putting the plaque back. He turned out the light and returned to bed.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“You’re supposed to trust me,” he answered.
“Alright! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean I thought you were doing anything wrong. I just thought you might be keeping something from me.”
He was quiet.
“Are you keeping something from me?”
“It’s not time.”
* * * * *
There was no doubt about it, Davey was behaving secretively. And three days before Christmas I found him in the kitchen in a really serious discussion with Amy and Larice. They shooed me out to the yard so they could finish talking and I worried even more. What was he talking to them about that he couldn’t talk to me about?
I would have worried more, but his behavior in our bed at night was more amorous than ever before. He was ‘in the mood’ more, hungrier, almost desperately so at times.
The night before Christmas eve, I awoke to find Davey lying half on me. His hard cock was pressing my hip and his hand was rubbing the underside of my cock, bringing me up hard. His flesh was hot, and his breath felt like a flame on my neck.
I was tired, but we never said no to each other. So I turned and opened my mouth to his. His tongue sought mine as he moved his body onto me and pressed his cock against me.
Davey was so hot that he quickly lit a fire in me. I spread my legs hungrily for him to settle between, and ran my hands over the hard muscles of his back. His mouth on mine was demanding and his cock ground hard against my belly.
He reached under my back and grabbed behind my shoulders for leverage, and I grabbed his butt for the ride. He forced his tongue deeper into my mouth and I spread my legs even wider to feel more of his cock and balls on mine.
When we came, it was hard and deeply satisfying. And afterwards, we continued to move our hips slowly, languidly, as our fire cooled. With a final sigh, I danced my fingers lightly over his back and kissed the side of his head. “I’m not sure what’s gotten into you,” I said. “But I like it.”
He squeezed me in his arms and kissed the side of my face. And then he dug around in my ear with his tongue and moved on me, almost as though he were trying to get me going again. But we were both spent, and I knew he was tired. “Davey, is everything alright?” I whispered, concerned.
He stopped. “Yeah,” he said, and pecked my mouth. Then he threw back the covers and climbed from the bed to retrieve a towel. When he crawled back in beside me, he wiped our cum from my belly and chest first, then his.
“Davey,” I said. “Something’s not right. You’ve been quiet lately; at least quiet for you. And when we make love, you always seem, well almost driven. What’s the matter?”
He tossed the towel to the floor and pulled the covers over us without saying a word. Then he lay on his side with his back to me. “I’m OK,” he said quietly. “I’ve just been thinking about things.”
I rolled up to spoon him and laid my arm over his waist. “Davey, if it’s about us, you need to talk to me, too. Let me know what you’re thinking.”
“It’s not time.”
For the first time in ages, I felt my hand start to tremble as I worried over what was bothering Davey about us. I pressed my hand to his belly in an attempt to stop the trembling and kissed the back of his neck. “I know things started to move too fast. A lot of that was my fault. I’m sorry Davey. We can slow things down. I can even move back to my couch at home if you want. We can take a break from each other.”
“Do you want a break?” he asked in the dark.
“No,” I answered. “No, but I don’t want to push you either. I’d rather slow down than have you to (delete ‘to’) get intimidated and feel like we’re overdoing things.” I squeezed his shoulder. “I don’t want to be bossy.”
“You aren’t,” he said.
We were going nowhere. I gave his shoulder a final squeeze. “You know I love you desperately, don’t you?” I whispered.
He rolled over to face me and stroked my face in the darkness. “I don’t deserve you,” he said very quietly. “I never deserved you.”
“Davey,” I said, clasping his shoulder tightly. “What is the matter?”
He shook his head on the pillow. “Not yet.”
A shudder ran through my body, and I grabbed him up in my arms. “Don’t let me lose you, Davey. I don’t want to lose you.” And then I got hold of myself, and let him go. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I promised to not do that.” I nervously rubbed my hand on his shoulder. “That’s hardly slowing things down. Look, you do what you need to, Davey. I’m strong now. I can take it… honest. We can slow down. We can even break off for a while if that’s what you want.”
I caressed his cheek. There were times I loved him so much that it hurt. Saying these things hurt. “Honest,” I said, and then rolled to my other side. I couldn’t face him. Not with the fear I now had.
He slid up behind me and spooned my body, wrapping his arm over my side. I felt his head settle on the pillow behind me, and I listened to his breathing for a long time before it became regular in sleep.
* * * * *
Christmas morning, a mockingbird sang loudly outside the window; I pulled the pillow over my head. Then I felt Davey moving around on the bed and his fingers lifted the pillow. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes to find him grinning at me.
“Merry Christmas!” he said.
“Bah, humbug!” I turned my head the other way, pulling the pillow tightly over my head.
Davey threw back the covers and climbed astride my butt. I knew what was coming even before his fingers dug into my ribs. By the time I was able to stop him, we’d both worked up a sweat. But I had him, sitting triumphantly on his butt, holding his hands pinned behind his back. I sang, We Wish you a Merry Christmas, while bouncing the beat on his ass. When I finished, I bent over him and used my best Simon Lagree voice. “Now, hehehe,” I said. “I want to enjoy my Christmas present.”
Davey squirmed, and I rubbed my growing erection around on his butt.
“Not till tonight,” he said. “I want us to do it tonight.”
“Mr. horny-all-the-time and you want to wait until tonight?”
“Yes, Mickey. C’mon. Please.”
“Alright, alright,” I said, climbing off him. Lying down beside him, I put my hand on his shoulder. “Are you OK, Davey?”
He smiled sadly. “I hope so.”
“You hope so?” I asked.
“I’m sorry about being so horny,” I said apologetically. “It’s your fault for being so damn hot looking in the morning. And tickling me when we’re both naked!”
“It’s OK,” he whispered, and then smiled. “Merry Christmas!”
I moved my face closer to his and rubbed his back. “Merry Christmas, Davey! You’re the Christmas present that I get every day.”
His smile spread wider over his face. He reached over me and patted my butt. “Maybe we can do it this morning and tonight.”
I shook my head. “Whatever you have in mind. Let’s wait till tonight.” I put my hand on his butt, too. “Damn it’s going to be hard to wait.”
Davey chuckled but then his face grew serious. He pushed my shoulders back, flat on the bed, and kissed me so hard I wondered if he’d bust a lip. “I hope you like it,” he said.
“What,” I asked.
“What I planned,” he said. Then he jumped up from the bed and dressed.
That day, like many Christmas Days in South Texas, was warm. So when Davey unveiled the gas grill he was giving me, I insisted on grilling some sausage to add to Christmas dinner.
Amy with little David in her lap, Davey, and I were sitting by the grill, enjoying the aroma, when Mom came from inside to tell us that Mr. Sullivan, Amy’s dad, was there with her mom to visit Amy and the baby. We all looked at each other in surprise. “It’s Christmas,” I suggested. “Maybe the Christmas spirit has come over him.”
They spent a long time on the porch and I stayed away. I was pretty sure that I wasn’t on Mr. Sullivan’s Christmas wish list. Davey and I watched them from inside. When they began to hug each other, I turned to Davey. “I think she’s going home soon,” I told him.
Davey looked alarmed. “Little David, too?”
I put my arm over his shoulder. “It’ll be good for Amy, Davey. She gets homesick.”
He shook his head. “We won’t get to see little David.”
“We’ll see him. We can see Amy when her dad’s not around. Maybe Ed can even work some kind of child support and visitation agreement for us.”
Just then, Mr. Sullivan looked in through the window and saw me with my arm over Davey’s shoulder. He frowned.
I dropped my arm. “Definitely when he’s not around,” I said.
Davey’s eyes were still on me. “Are you going to move back home?” he asked.
Mr. Sullivan turned away, so I snuck my hand behind Davey’s back and rubbed. “Mom will probably want me to. But you’ll let me stay with you, right?” I asked and dropped my hand to pinch his butt.
Davey jumped and punched my gut just as the Sullivans stood up to leave.
Christmas dinner lasted until Christmas supper. I could tell Amy was happy, but even she was quiet as we all contemplated her rapprochement with her dad. In the early evening, Davey wanted to run. “Damn, Davey,” I protested. “We’ve eaten all day long. You could wind up with alien kisses.”
“Please,” he said, without the hint of a smile.
I wondered if Davey was finally ready to tell me what had been on his mind. Even though I had just about decided that whatever it was probably wasn’t that bad, there was a knot in my stomach. “Sure,” I said, quietly. “We can go for a run.” I kept my hands hidden from him, because I could feel them on the verge of trembling.
We came out of the trees at the top of the bluff and looked out over the quarry, pale in the moonlight. Davey took my hand and led me along the edge of the bluff until we came around to our rock; the rock that had a view of downtown and overlooked the McAllister freeway below.
Davey stopped, and looking down at the expressway, squeezed my hand. I watched his face in the moonlight and waited, trying to prepare myself for whatever he was building up to tell me. He clutched my hand tightly. That had to be a good sign, surely.
Then he let go of my hand and sat down on the rock. I sat down beside him. “Whatever you have to say, Davey, just say it. Don’t be afraid I can’t handle it.”
He gave me a blank look, and then smiled and shook his head. “Doofus,” he said gently, and rubbed my back. We both looked down toward the road. It surprised me how many people were out driving on Christmas night.
I felt Davey’s fingers move up the back of my neck into my hair and turned to find him staring fondly at my black strands blowing in the light breeze. “Do you remember,” he asked, “the day we met?”
“Yeah,” I said, wondering where he was headed.
He continued to brush my hair with his fingers, watching as the breeze made it dance. “You spent the night at my house. Remember?” he asked.
“Do you remember what you said that night?”
“Sure,” I said. “But I’m surprised you do.” I recalled Davey, barely six, lying next to me on his pillow like some white haired angel. “I remember, I promised I wouldn’t ever let anybody hurt you.”
He clutched my hair and his gaze dropped to my eyes. “Your eyes were all dark and flashy,” he said. “And you were so brave when you said it, and I knew you would protect me.” He held my head by my hair and put his forehead to mine. “That’s when I fell in love with you,” he whispered.
I smiled and leaned my forehead comfortably back against his. “Doofus,” I said gently. “Six year-olds don’t fall in love.”
“I did,” he said, simply.
And then I remembered a blond-haired boy coming out onto his porch clutching a toy plane, and how awestruck I was by how perfect he was, and how I thought he looked like a TV star. And then I remembered his face that night on the pillow next to mine, and the impulse that prompted me to put my hand on his shoulder and promise to never let anyone hurt him. I smiled and ran my finger along his jaw. “I fell in love that day too.”
“I know,” Davey said, leaning forward to kiss my cheek.
I smiled. “You always know.”
“You know what else I remember?” he asked, putting his arm over my shoulder. “I remember the first night we sat here. We talked about you going to college and us moving into an apartment together.” He moved his mouth close to my ear. “And we talked about what I could do. We talked about me being a… barber.” Then he giggled and tugged at my hair. “I am doing better.”
“I like you cutting my hair,” I said, patting his leg.
He nodded, and looked back over the Olmos Basin again. “I’ve been thinking a lot… Mickey. I decided what I want to do… with my life.”
This was it. This must be what he was trying to build up to. What had he decided? Did he want his own life after all? Did he finally want out on his own?
He looked back into my eyes and rubbed my shoulder nervously. “I decided something important, Mickey. I don’t care what I do… I just want to be with you.” He wrapped both arms around my shoulders and pressed his head to the side of mine. “What I want to do with my life, Mickey… is spend it with you.”
I put my hand on his thigh and squeezed.
He smiled, looked down, and took my hand from his thigh and reached for my other hand. Clasping both my hands in his, he held my gaze. “Mickey. I like how I feel when we do our two-week… promises. I like belonging to you.” He squeezed my hands. “I like you belonging to me. I like going to sleep next to you every night, and waking up next to you every morning. I like how you look at me when we’re together. And I like looking at you all the time.” Then he grinned. “Especially when you’re naked.”
His face grew serious. “There isn’t ever going to be anyone else like you. I know you’d give up everything for me. You already have.” His head began to hang. “I don’t deserve you. But I don’t want to lose you…”
Clutching my hands, he rose from the rock and knelt in front of me.
I gasped. “Davey, are you going to…”
Davey looked up at me, his face as serious as I’d ever seen him. The breeze picked up from behind me and lifted his hair like silent flames, back from his head. Moonlight reflected from his shoulders and the planes of his face, making his eyes dark and even more earnest. “I want to make the promise,” he said and knelt up straight so that his glistening eyes were level with mine. Then he took a deep breath. “I love you, Mickey,” he said. “I’m always going to love you.”
His brow furrowed with sincerity. “I want to belong to you… all my life,” he said, and then leaned forward to put his mouth to my ear. “I’m forsaking all others, Mickey. Like you said.” Then he sat back and looked at me.
He’d taken me by surprise. Was he proposing?
He knelt up again to put his mouth to my ear. “Mickey, if you’re not ready, you don’t have to promise me anything yet,” he said. “But I’m promising you. No matter what — I won’t ever have sex with anyone else, ever again… just you, Mickey… for as long as we live.”
“Davey,” I said, squeezing his hand. “We agreed. This is a big promise. We’re still young. When the time’s right, we need to do it together.”
He shook his head. “The time is right for me, Mickey. I don’t want anybody else. And I know I can do it. I can keep the promise.” He looked intently into my eyes. “I want to make it. And I’m not ever going to break it.”
He reached into his left pocket and pulled out a golden chain bracelet. He laid it in my hand. “This is… for my promise to you, Mickey. This is for you.”
I held it up and in the moonlight and I could see that it was engraved. “It says ‘David,’” I said, looking up at him inquiringly. “Not Davey?”
He stood up and held out his hand, inviting me to stand up. I took it, and stood with him. Davey moved close, putting his hands on my hips. “I put ‘David’ on it,” he said, “because I am a man and I know what I’m doing. I’m making a life-promise, as a man, to the man I love.”
He smiled. “Did you read the other side?”
I shook my head.
“It says, ‘Love never fails.’”
I was overwhelmed…. and concerned. “Do you really ‘know’ what you’re doing, Davey?” I asked. “You’re fantastic looking; guys are going to want you. You could have lots of guys. What about Hunter? You don’t ever want to mess with him again? Davey, these are supposed to be our best years. I don’t want you to ever regret giving them to me.”
“Mickey,” he said, “I’m giving you all my years.” He rubbed the side of my neck. “You will make each one of them, my best years.” Then he kissed me lightly and I felt the wetness on his cheek. “I love you,” he said quietly.
“Davey, this kind of promise… if you break it…”
“Shsssh,” he said, holding his fingertips to my lips. “I will not break this promise… ever!”
He lifted my hand and took the bracelet from it. Then he fastened it around my wrist, after which, he pressed his body to mine and whispered into my ear. “I belong to you now… forever.”
And suddenly, the wetness on our cheeks was from my eyes, too. I wrapped my arms over his bare shoulders and rocked him. “I’m not sure,” I said, “if there really is anything else that I ever wanted in my life.” Then I took a ragged breath. “Oh, Davey,” I gasped. Clutching him to me, I pressed my lips against his ear, “I want to go to sleep beside you every night and wake up next to you every morning. I want to belong to you and want you to belong to me.”
I squeezed him even more tightly. “I forsake all others, too, Davey… David.” I took a very deep breath. “I will never have sex with anyone else again, for as long as we live. I promise. And I will never break my promise, either.”
I hugged him tightly and whispered. “I won’t ever break my promise, Davey, even if you break yours.” I felt him take a breath to protest but spoke before he could. “I know you won’t break your promise. I just want you to know, there is nothing that you could do, to ever make me break mine.”
Davey nodded. “Me too.”
A puff of cool breeze flowed down the hill from above, bringing with it the smell of oak and elm trees. A jet passed overhead on the way to the airport. And I held Davey.
“Forever, Old Man?” I asked.
“Forever, Old Man,” he said.
We kissed, fiercely, with damp faces. And when we ended the kiss, we held each other tightly and pressed our cheeks together.
“If anything ever happens to me, though, Davey,” I said. “You’re free from your promise. You know that.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said.
I nodded. “I know, but remember, if anything ever does happen to me, I don’t want you to be alone. Not if you meet someone.”
He nodded against the side of my head. “You, too. But,” and he squeezed me tightly. “Nothing’s going to happen to you.”
I chuckled, blinking more tears from my eyes. “Not for a long, long time, Old Man.”
We rocked each other in our arms and his breath ran down the side of my neck.
“I’m going to get you one of those bracelets,” I whispered.
“Oh,” Davey said, pulling away and reaching into his other pocket. He pulled out a silver version of the bracelet he had just given me. I held it up and examined the engraving. It said, ‘Michael’ on one side and “Love never fails” on the other.
“Your Christmas shopping?” I asked, smiling.
“Yeah,” he said softly.
I stepped back and took Davey’s hand. But I had trouble fastening the bracelet. “It’s hard to see,” I apologized. “My eyes are full of tears.”
Davey leaned forward, resting his forehead on mine until I was finally able to fasten the bracelet around his wrist. And then I wrapped my arms around Davey, my treasure, my life. We embraced and very, very slowly, our lips met.
They were wet and salty from our tears. We brushed them together until Davey opened his mouth to mine and I pushed in with my tongue.
His mouth was hot and wet. Our embrace tightened until it almost hurt. And from head to thigh, we tried to squeeze two bodies into one.
As we breathed, our bellies met and parted. Each time they met, we pressed our warm skin together. We entwined our legs, and we both grew hard.
“You belong to me,” I whispered, pushing the waistband of his shorts down over his butt.
“You belong to me,” Davey whispered in reply, pushing down mine.
He shuddered with the last of his orgasm, and then his body relaxed in my arms. He sighed, and I stroked the soft skin of his back, feeling the hard muscles beneath. I slid my hands down to his narrow hips and over the smooth skin of his butt. I would be crazy to ever let him go. I would have been crazy to not match his promise. But then, the promise was always there, we just spoke it tonight.
He slid to my side, leaving a leg over my middle and an arm over my chest, and rested his head on my shoulder. His warm breath flowed over my chest.
“I wanted to do this… before Knox’s party,” Davey said, kissing my nipple. “I’m going to make you dance with your shirt off and everybody will be jealous because you belong to me. And I’m going to dance with my shirt off, but just for you.”
I stroked his hair. The sky over us was brilliant with stars, and the moon was low in the western sky. The cars on the McAllister freeway sounded almost like surf, and a soft breeze cooled our naked bodies. “Stay with me Davey,” I said. “Our moms won’t let us now, but the day I turn twenty-one, I’m going to marry you. And I’m going to give you an island in the Caribbean as a wedding present, and Maggie can come down and fish with us.”
“And I’ll give you a mountain lodge,” he said, “and we can teach little David how to fly fish.”
He kissed my neck and rubbed a finger over my nipple. I ran my fingers into his soft hair. “Maybe I better not promise an island yet,” I said. “We might not become that rich, and I don’t want to break any promises… not even a dream promise.”
Davey reached down and combed my pubes with his fingers. “It doesn’t matter.” He said. “I don’t need an island.”
“And I don’t need a mountain lodge,” I said. “But we are going to do lots of fishing.”
Davey kissed my neck again. I knew he wanted to make love once more before we headed back. I wanted to as well. But there was no rush. There was all the time in the world; all the time in two lifetimes.
I would like to ask a favor of The Least of These readers, and that is this… If you have enjoyed the story, please take a moment to send me an email saying so. I will never release your email address or use it for spam. It simply would be nice to know that you read and enjoyed the story. That thought will refresh me on warm South Texas afternoons.
Thank you from Josh at email@example.com