Chapter 6

What was I thinking! Did I really love Kevin? Or was I just feeling sorry for him because he had had a taste of frathouse freedom and now he was back under the parental thumb? Or did I simply want to take care of him? Not like a pet, for God's sake, but more like someone who could give him a safe haven.

A safe haven. So I wanted to protect him. Was that it? Why "protect"? He's practically an adult already. He can pretty much fend for himself. Maybe it was an optical illusion at work because he was so short and still looked so much like a kid. Besides, what am I going to protect him from? The Big Bad World? Get real! I'm not the catcher in the rye type. Believe it or not, I'm not cynical enough.

Protecting is what fathers do. And I'm not the father type. Hell, I'm not even the "daddy" type. Two failed relationships taught me that. After eight months, Martin was back on the streets. And after a year and a half, David had to go. Finding a couple of kilos of pot in the storage room convinced me that not only were he and I not on the same path, we were not on the same planet.

Tony was the closest to real happiness that I had ever had. I wasn't a father, wasn't a daddy. More like a mentor. He had been searching for something extra in his marriage. He didn't realize that what he was looking for was outside his marriage. And the thing he was looking for was another man. Since his wife wouldn't share him, he found his own men. Me, among them.

By the time I met Tony, I had, after a long and agonizing period, officially, finally given up the hope, even the mere idea of ever being a father. In this state, being gay and single was socially and legally the kiss of death. Besides, the stability of a proven relationship wasn't there, so no adopting agency anywhere was going to take a chance on me. Eventually, I resigned myself to being childless.

Tony's girls, Jessie and Gina, had briefly relighted that extinguished flame in me. Thank God we only had them on the weekends. If Tony had gotten permanent custody of them, then his transfer out of state would have been nearly impossible for me.

The big question, of course, was Did I really want a relationship with this boy with the beautiful brown hair and mesmerizing brown eyes and the adamant jaw? God knows, I definitely wanted a relationship. I always do; I'm the marrying kind. But despite what the song says about falling in love with love, I'm no one's fool.

But did I love Kevin with the head-over-heels, walking-on-air, go-to-the-ends-of-the-earth kind of love? No. But I could in time. And without it being an act either. I guess if you have to think about it at all, the answer should be "no." That's what being the victim of a Jesuit education does to you. You think too much and don't feel enough.

He's so pretty lying there even with his mouth open and his drool discoloring the pillow. His hair is as soft as a child's, untouched by gels or sprays or dyes. Even God's own best sunlight won't lighten it. His smooth skin, even in repose, belies the beauty of youth. If you look closely, you can still see each sinew and cord of muscle ready to come back to life with wakefulness. Some things are so beautiful that they make you weep. I could feel that tightness in my throat.

I kissed his cheek once more and whispered to him even though I knew his brain would never register the words. "I do love you. But I can't tell you that. Not yet at least. And I can't stay out here with you tonight. I'm going to my own bed, and you will have to come to me. I can't push you. But you should know that I'll be there if you want me. Or even if you just want me to help you find your way." I kissed him one last time and left the room.

I turned on the bathroom light and left the door ajar so he would have a beacon of sorts if he awoke during the night. I stripped down to my skivvies and turned the bedside lamp on low in case he wanted a second beacon. Hey, hope springs eternal, okay? Then I hit the sheets. Literally. I don't think I even made it under the top sheet and I was dead to the world.

It was a deep sleep and dreamless. At one point I thought I was moving into the dream state, but someone calling my name and the touch on my arm was real enough to wake me. "Bob...Bob?" I opened one eye to find Kevin crouched at the side of the bed. He was close enough that I didn't need to reach for my glasses and I didn't need to squint to see him clearly.

I let my head fall back on the pillow so I wouldn't have to open my other eye. That was too much effort right then. "What time is it? What do you want, Kevin?" I wasn't nasty, but I wasn't exactly nice either. Just very tired.

"A little after 2," he said sheepishly.

"Okay, that answers one question. Now what do you want, Kevin?" His hand still lay on my arm making only the slightest of movement.

"I...I'm not sure." The look on his face told me he wanted me to do the asking. But I wasn't having any of that. I tried to take the edge off my voice, although I'm not sure I did it too well. After all, it was after 2:00 o'clock in the morning.

"Kevin, it's 2:00 o'clock in the morning, you're kneeling next to my bed in your underwear and you're caressing my arm. This is not the time to be bashful. You're not going to hurt my feelings and you're not going to embarrass anyone. Unless, of course, you ask a really dumb question, but something tells me you're not here to talk about Windows 2000. So spit it out."

Instead of spitting it out, he almost swallowed his question, his voice was so low. "Can I sleep with you?"

"Is that all? Jesus, I thought it was something important." My teasing didn't work well; he was clearly embarrassed about having asked. "Okay, get your skinny butt under the covers." Maybe if he was under even just a top sheet, he could maintain some modesty for a while.

"Should I take off my clothes?"

"Why? Are we going to mess around or are we going to sleep? Don't answer that. Just kidding. If it'll make you feel more comfortable, leave 'em on. If we're gonna take anything off, we'll know when the time comes." He gingerly slid into bed and demurely pulled the sheet up to his rib cage. He apparently was hoping to find instructions on the ceiling because he didn't look at me and he didn't utter a sound.

"So," I asked, "do you like to do it on your front, your back or on your side?"

He turned his head whiplash fast, his eyes as large as they could get. He evidently feared that he had enrolled in an Advanced Sexuality class that he wasn't ready for. "Do you sleep on your front, your back or your side?" I asked. The top sheet inched higher on his chest. His eyes were still wide.

"I sleep on my front," he said shyly.

"Then do it, bud. It's late." He still didn't budge. "You have got to learn to relax." And I poked him in the ribs.

"Stop that. It tickles."

"I figured." So I did it again, trapping his arms beneath the sheets so he couldn't fight back. Hey, I never said I fight fair. I used both hands on his rib cage until he had kicked the top sheet loose and was rolling side to side laughing like a ten-year-old. I had him pinned, sitting on his crotch, and I was a little less soft than a moment earlier. Kevin was a lot less soft. His erection was trying to push through his briefs and the wadded up sheets.

I stopped to let him catch his breath before I intoned, "Lesson Number One. Unless you're both intent on sleeping, it should always be fun."

"But I thought you wanted to sleep," he said, grinding his crotch against my butt and raising his eyebrows expectantly.

"Yeah, but you were way too serious. If I'd let you alone, you wouldn't have slept at all. And now it's going to be a while before you do sleep," I said and started rummaging under the balled up sheets for his waistband.

What I found surprised me. For a little guy he packed quite a rod. I took the measure of it with just my fingertips and asked him, "Where have you been hiding this beauty? You must go through a lot of jock straps in a year's time trying to control this puppy."

He blushed again, but the blush didn't last too long this time. Progress! "I go through maybe three or four," he giggled.

"Well, the next time you jerk off in one, save it for me. I've got a friend who's into that."

"Oh yeah? Who?"

"That's for me to know..." His rod was free of his briefs and incredibly erect standing straight away from his body. I scooted down his body to get my first good look at this beauty. Very impressive! And very responsive too. Any little touch set it off twitching. This wouldn't take long at all if I just forged ahead.

I attacked with my tongue everything but his penis. He got the deluxe tongue bath and after only a few minutes, his crotch was completely coated with saliva. When I hit his sphincter with my tongue, he turned to prayer--"Jesus Christ!"--and I had to hold his hand away from his penis, he was so anxious to finish himself off. By now, every twitch of his penis sent another rivulet of precum down the underside of his penis and he had coated it liberally. His arms were spread out and he was grasping the sheets in his fists to keep himself from levitating. He was ready.

I let my tongue glide slowly up the underside of his unbendable shaft collecting all the precum I could. His shallow breathing turned to panting gasps as I took in his engorged knob and tongued that most sensitive spot on a man's body. When I heard him take in one long breath, I went for it and plunged down on him to the hilt.

He just about screamed. His back arched and I could feel him filling my gullet with his warm seed. I swallowed and murmured my own guttural sounds of appreciation and he responded by pumping in even more. What a gusher! I wish I could have seen that one fly. I bet it would have been a record setter.

I moved up slowly with as much suction as I thought he could handle, without losing his mind, and right back down. I was cleaning him up and cleaning him out. On my second pass, he sat up and held my head when I was back at the tip of his penis. I looked at the expression of surprise and knew what he was going to say. I kept my mouth motionless but flicked my tongue around his corona. Each move caused a quick intake of breath. On the third one, he fell back on the bed and finally had to exhale long and loud.

Damn, I thought, I've killed another one. No, his chest was still expanding, so that's a good sign. "My God in heaven." I'm not sure if he was talking to me or to God. "I didn't know it was possible to come that hard." He propped himself up on his elbows, looking at me with amazement. "And you swallowed it!"

I just gave a smug smile, shrugged my shoulders and gave him something to think about. "I've got news for you, bub. It gets even better." I didn't think it was possible for his eyes to get wider, but they did, and I'm sure he believed me. "But we're going to save that for later when you're more relaxed. Let's hit the sack now. It's later than late, and at least I still have to work this morning."

"But you didn't get off. Shouldn't I do it to you now?" What a polite boy! He gets an A+ for Courtesy.

"To tell you the truth, when you shot your load, I almost shot mine at the same time. But I was able to hold back. It hurt, but I held on. That's part of Lesson Number Two. And we'll cover that tomorrow when we have more time."

I loomed over Kevin supporting myself on my hands. His look was a mix of wonder, anticipation, satisfaction. I kissed him letting my tongue explore just a little. I didn't wat to start anything over right now, although I'm sure he would have been raring to go again in just a few minutes. "Thank you," I whispered.

He looked confused. "For what? I didn't do anything but lay here."

"You shared yourself. Your essence. In the truest Thomistic sense."

"Huh? Sometimes, Bob, you are just too obtuse."

I sighed. "Take another Philosophy course. A real one." He didn't get it. Well, give him some time, I thought. "By the way, that's a good word, 'obtuse', and it's very apropos." I rolled over next to him and gathered him in my arms, spooning into his backside. "Now get some sleep. Dawn isn't all that far off."

Indeed it wasn't. I hadn't adjusted the alarm, so it blared its insistent welcome at 5:30 as usual. Despite the fact that I'm up at that hour, I am not a morning person. I only get up then so I'm fully awake when I go downstairs at 9:00 o'clock. I forced myself to sit up, unentangling myself from Kevin and to shut off the alarm. Kevin, still asleep, was inching toward my side of the bed. Not now, I thought, I don't need that kind of temptation. I reset the alarm for 9:00 so he could still get to his late morning classs. Then I hit the john.

The morning routine did wake me, just a bit slower than usual. I skipped the morning email ritual so I could go downstairs and knock out Mrs. Bender's garden party invitation. Knowing her, she'd be on the doorstep at opening. And I knew that if I timed it too close to the bone, Murphy's Law would kick in and something would go horribly wrong.

The job was a piece of cake. I only had to wait for the 250 copies to print. I had plenty of time now for the morning email. While the computer booted up--it has its own morning ritual--I went outside for a smoke. Standing in the doorway, I heard the familiar "Hey jerkface!" letting me know my mail had arrived.

There it was right on top. Rather, there they were. Four emails from Randy! He'd written every day since Monday and they were only now getting to me! What the hell was going on here? I opened yesterday's message first.

TULSA, OK, 11:43 PM

Hi, Stud! I hope to hell you're getting these emails. I've been trying to send them over my cell phone since I have to share a computer at home and I'm not sure if I'm doing it right. Nothing has bounced back to me, so I have to think that they're getting to you.

I'm sorry I missed you last night. I'm on a kinda tight schedule and couldn't hang around too long. I couldn't say much in the note I left you, and I don't have the time right now to go into all the details, but my plans--the Big Plans--are changing radically. And I'm hoping you'll be part of them.

I really really needed to get with you last night, dude. I wanted your advice before I made the rest of the trip back to Texas. I guess I'm pretty much on my own now, at least until Wednesday when I get back. I wish I could hold out until then, but I know I'm not going to. I promise to give you all the gory details when I get back. I hope you'll still want to talk to me after that.

I miss you, stud, more than you can probably understand. Maybe more than I can understand. As my dad used to say (before the stroke when you could still understand what he was saying), "We'll burn that bridge when we get to it." And I've got lots of matches.

Love,

Randy

Ever arrive late to a movie and wonder what exactly happened in the first ten minutes because so far nothing was making sense? I hoped the earlier emails were those "first ten minutes" and that they would fill in the gaps. No such luck. They were just as general if not more so. There were only oblique references and I had to read between the lines.

There was trouble between him and his brother and between him and his dad. Nothing too unusual there. And there was something about "unfinished business" back in Texas that he didn't want to finish but felt he had to. No details at all. What the hell was going on?

I went back to yesterday's email. What note was he talking about? There was no note. There wasn't...I froze in mid-thought. There was a note! The one Alan had crumbled and dropped. What a jerk, I thought, and I didn't know if I meant Alan or myself.

I took the stairs two and three at a time. I don't remember throwing that note away, so it still had to be in my pants pocket. When I burst into the room, I gave little heed to Kevin looking up at me and giving me the evil eye. I grabbed my pants from the clothes tree and fished through the pockets. It was still there.

I unfolded it and looked first for a signature. There was only an "R" at the bottom. So it was from Randy! And Alan was throwing it away. That asshole! Several possibilities for Alan's fate rushed through my brain, all of which would make Torquemada look like an altar boy. Alan was definitely going to be let out to dry.

The note said nothing of significance. "Sorry I missed you. Can't wait any longer. C U Wed." I must have read it half a dozen times before exclaiming, "Son. Of. A. Bitch!" I had missed him. And by how much? A minute? An hour? I stopped to do the math.

Tulsa was a three-hour trip from here. Figure 2-1/2 the way Randy would push that Mustang of his. He wrote the email just before midnight, so he had to be here around 9:00 PM.

"Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! Sonuvabitch!" I railed. I was now a ten-year-old who didn't get his pony for Christmas, except I had a really terrible vocabulary.

"Bob, what's wrong?" Kevin was now sitting up, a look of real concern on his face. As I looked at him, several thoughts raced through my mind. If I hadn't gone out to dinner..If I hadn't made a play for this kid...If I had just stayed home like I usually do...I could've seen Randy again. God, am I obsessing, or what? Even if I had seen him, he wouldn't have stayed long enough to actually do anything. He had said that he was on a tight schedule of some sort.

I took a deep breath and relaxed a bit. "Sorry, Kevin. I didn't mean to wake you. I just found out that I missed seeing...an old friend last night. He didn't need to know that Randy wasn't an "old" friend. But he didn't need to know I had missed some quality time with Super Hunk either. "Go back to sleep. I set the alarm for 9:00 o'clock so you can still make class this morning."

He stretched and idly scratched his right nipple. What's wrong with me? Suddenly I wanted to taste that nipple, to lick the dried sweat from it and feel him get aroused again. God, I haven't stayed horny like this in twenty years!

"That's okay," he said through a yawn. "It's almost 9:00 o'clock anyway. And besides, Prendergast cancelled today." My beginning hardon started to fade. Shit! I still have to go back downstairs.

Then it hit me. The Plan. "In that case then," I almost barked, "get your butt out of bed and be downstairs in twenty minutes. We've got work to do."