Date: Mon, 22 Mar 2004 18:44:37 GMT
From: joshua Caddy  <joshuacaddy@lycos.co.uk>
Subject: chapter 8 for the times they are a changing

Chapter 8

Since Ryan entered my life and took up residence in my bed a sense of
contentment permeated every facet of my activities.

At the end of each day I would retreat to the warm soft embrace of my bed,
confident in the knowledge that before long I would be held in the even
warmer and softer embrace of Ryan, my boy, my smelly little hippo. With
Ryan in my life I understood the craving the addict feels. He intoxicated
me with his presence. By the time Christmas came around I was a confirmed
boy junky, always in need of a constant fix.

Our relationship was based on a mutual need, a need for someone else in our
lives. To voice an old romantic saying we were made for each other.

Without our knowing; we both changed, Ryan became a more confident out
going lad and I, well I grew up. Gone was the self-indulgent 30-year-old
adolescent who moved into the village in the summer. Having a
responsibility for the first time without the option of running away
(again) made me change without making a conscious effort. The catalyst was
the fact I had no need to run anymore. I had no secrets to hide from Ryan,
I'd bared my soul to him often enough. He accepted my feelings for him

I woke just as the dawn chorus was shattering the stillness of the
night. The steely light of the winter morn inserted itself through the gap
in the curtains causing the room to be lit with a monochrome
effect. Enjoying the cosiness of the situation I didn't move, just savoured
the moment. Ryan was draped across me in his normal fashion, leg and arm
thrown across me with head resting upon my chest.

Unusually for Ryan he began to make little noises in his sleep little
grunts and sighs and began to wriggle around a little. I figured he must
have been dreaming. As with everything else about him this endeared him to
me even more. It reminded me of a puppy I had had many years ago that used
to chase things in its sleep. I lay there wishing I could slip inside his
head and see what he was dreaming about.

With that though to the forefront of my mind I snuggled into Ryan and
drifted off to sleep again.

My later awakening was a little different I could feel something being
gently drawn across my stomach.

In my semi comatose state I enquired "What are you doing hippo boy"?

"Nothing," came a rather distraught anxious reply. My boy's distress
brought me round immediately. Now in full possession of my faculties I
could see what he was doing. My little hippo had had a wet dream, all over
me! As far as I was aware this was the first time this had happened to
him. No wonder he was distressed about it. For the majority of the male
population this is something that happens to us on our own where we can
privately clear up the debris before anyone finds out.

My poor little hippo didn't have that particular luxury.

The look of mortification all over his face said it all. He had endeavoured
to wipe up the evidence before I awoke but to no avail.

I wanted to hold him close to tell him it was ok, that it was quite
natural. But remembering my adolescent years I thought it better to play it
down.

"It looks like someone is growing up" I remarked squeezing his knee. "Don't
worry about it, it's happened to all of us at one time or another. Cheer up
I'm not cross or anything."

Giving him a smile and a pat on the cheek I got up and went into the
bathroom. Glancing into the mirror before getting in the shower I could see
the sticky little puddle part dried on my stomach. "Time marches on" I
could not help but think to myself.

Ryan was rather subdued and withdrawn for the rest of the day keeping
mainly to his room and ever-addictive computer games. It was obvious that
he needed a little space in which to come to terms with his "Nocturnal
emission." (Now doesn't that sound clinical!).

Whilst working on a commission in the study my thoughts could not help but
slip back to my own youth and my secretive endeavours at the five-knuckle
shuffle. This brought back many and varied emotions some happy some not
so. All in all my childhood had not been that good. Ok, so I came from a
loving family, got decent marks at school and was reasonably popular with
the other kids but my realisation that I was different always intruded
itself into the other areas of my life. Because of my dark secret I could
not let anyone get that close to me for fear of them discovering who I
truly was. That fear followed me all the way through school and it wasn't
until university that I reached a number of conclusions. Firstly, I knew
what I was and could do nothing about it. Secondly no one would ever find
out and thirdly I was a good enough actor that no one would ever find out.

These realisations had governed my life ever since, until Ryan that is.

I was sure that Ryan would reach a conclusion that would help him deal with
his first wet dream, although I must admit I did not envy him the anguish
of it.

Come the evening we went through our normal routine. I got Ryan ready for
bed told him a story from the Arabian nights, kissed him good night and
went to finish my work off.

Quite engrossed in my work it was after one when I finally went to bed and
lay awake for a little while listening to the sounds of the night creaking
through the cottage.

Awaking somewhat uneasily, a glance at the clock said it was 3:15am. By now
Ryan should have been snuggled up next to me. In the months we had been
together only once had he not slept in my bed. Getting up and throwing a
gown around my shoulders I slipped noiselessly across the landing to his
room. There was a faint flicker of light playing under the door. Quietly
entering the room Ryan became visible sat slumped over his PC, the game
playing on without him.

Without waking the slumbering boy I turned off the PC and sat back on his
bed looking at him. He could not sleep long in that uncomfortable
position. Only a few minutes after my sitting down he stirred.

"Shouldn't someone be asleep in bed now?"

"Yes Uncle Michael," he softly said going back into his own bed.

"So aren't I good enough to sleep with anymore?"

"Yes..........But...but it might happen again." The anguish in his voice
was palpable.

"So I told you it doesn't matter."

"But its dirty I don't want to do that on you again."

I got into the bed, pulled him in close to me. Kissing his forehead I said,
"Ryan it's only natural for a boy your age to have a few wet dreams. All
your hormones are leaping about inside you like, like atoms in a nuclear
reactor. With all that going on in here (Giving his bare tummy a rub) it's
no wonder there's an occasional explosion. It doesn't upset me at all but
if it makes you feel uncomfortable I understand if you don't want to sleep
in my bed anymore. I would miss you though (said kissing his nose making
him giggle a little). It feels lonely in there without you, besides if you
kept your pj's on for a change it wouldn't go everywhere!"

We snuggled together for some moments, my hand rubbing little circles on
his smooth warm tummy.

Eventually he asked from the depth of my arms, "Why does it happen?"

Ok, I'm not Freud or anything but I felt perfectly qualified to field a
good explanation.

"You know what I said about hormones inside of you (Pause to tickle
rib's). Well these chemicals are changing you, making you grow up. So as
you change from a boy to a man you become more interested in sex (Pause
again to tickle ribs and refute disclaimers of lack of interest in
sex). That stiff little thing you have been poking in my side for weeks is
proof of that, plus whatever you were looking at online with your mates the
other day, no don't try and tell me otherwise, that little blush is proof
enough." Ryan had gone all coy on me blushing in his charming way. "So you
have got all these chemicals churning around making you into a horny little
monster and they've got nowhere to go. So when you go to sleep and you
start dreaming about naughty stuff all these hormones suddenly think
arrrrrrr and bits of your body respond automatically. (This last sentence
was delivered pointed looking at Ryan's groin.) So you see you can do
nothing about it."

Ryan thought about this for a few moments then he gave his trademark
naughty giggle.

"You know what I was dreaming about last night?"

"No and perhaps you should keep that to yourself."

"I was dreaming about when you were stroking my tummy the other month and
it felt sooo nice."

Now it was my turn to blush.

"Any more of that and we could end up getting me into trouble," I
half-heartedly admonished him.

 "But why, I know you would like to do stuff with me. You get hard often
enough when we wrestle! And you've just said I'm growing up so why can't we
do something sexy together?"

During this little monologue he had straddled my legs and was talking to me
with the tips of our noses touching.

"See I can feel you would like to do something with me."

A particular part of my anatomy was betraying my attempt at self-control.

"Are you sure you want me to touch you like that Ryan? It's a very serious
decision"

"Yes!" he shouted bouncing up and down on me.

"You must promise and I really mean this, promise you will never tell
anyone about it if I do and I'm not saying I will. If anyone ever found out
they would take you away from me and send me to prison for a very long
time!"

"Who's going to find out and why would you have to go to prison?"

"Because society doesn't like men who like boys."

"Eh?"

"Society doesn't like the idea of men and boys doing sweaty, squelchy
things together. They have it in mind that any boy who does that sort of
thing is being forced and abused. A boy couldn't possibly want to do those
sorts of things, nor understand them, they think. So what it boils down to
is you would be in an abusive home e.g. I would be abusing you, ergo I'm a
nasty wicked paedophile who needs his balls cut off and locked away forever
just to make sure all those sweet innocent little boys are protected. So
you would need removing from the obviously abusive environment you're
living in and incarcerating in a large council home where you can be
properly cared for i.e. bulled by the other kids for being a queer, ignored
by the staff, other than those who of course would be renting your arse out
when they weren't buggering you themselves.  Hence the term, 'care in the
community'!"

This rather black outburst on my part caused Ryan to slip off my lap and
look at me most quizzically.

"Why won't they let me do what I want?"

"Because you're not seen as being capable of making those sort of
decisions. There are some elements of the public who would think I've been
abusing you by undressing you and letting you sit on my knee without any
clothes on not to mention sleeping in the same bed."

We were subdued sitting side by side in the bed after that.

Ryan's hand slid into mine, giving it a little squeeze.

"I'm ....I'm sorry Michael I won't ask again."

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, it's me who is sorry, so very sorry,
for not having the courage to do what we would both like to do."

I could feel a single tear role down my cheek, burning like vitriol,
etching my weakness into my flesh, forever marking my abject terror at
losing him.

Ryan saw this diamond rivulet and softly placed his lips upon it as it
slowly traversed my cheek. His act of compassion caused me to collapse upon
his shoulder in a torrent of emotion.

With the passage of some moments I regained possession of myself and made a
decision. "Ryan I could not, will not do anything that may loose you to
me. It would shatter me more than you could ever know."

This said I scooped him into my arms and conveyed him downstairs into the
study, placing him upon the hearthrug before a low burning coal fire.

"I have something for you, or rather something I want to return to you." So
saying I retrieved a small black box from my desk draw. Sitting upon the
rug beside Ryan I pressed the box into his hands.

"I gave this to you when you were a little over two weeks old, with it I
promised I would always be there if you needed me. Now it's me who needs
you more than anything else."

Ryan looked at me with a look of wonder, of utter devotion as he opened the
box. Lying within, upon a velvet cushion was a ring the twin of the one I
habitually wore. He took the gold band from the box and placed it upon his
finger. As he slid it home I showed him how the monogram upon the two
joined together.

"See they fit together, a bit like we do in fact"

"Uncle Mikey!"

"Yes hippo boy?"

"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?"

"I hoped you'd say that."

"Even without my pj's on?"

"Could I expect anything else my sticky little hippo?"

"No .... And Uncle Mikey?"

"Yeeesss?"

"I promise not to molest you!"

			*** *** *** *** *** ***

Most nights of the week one or more of his friends would come home from
school with him. At first having the cottage full of adolescent boys was
rather a shock to the system. With Ryan's friends all being cute boys it
was like juggling with razors, ensuring I did not cut myself or those
around me.  I had to pointedly watch myself as I am a tactile person often
touching those around me and in this situation it could be easily
misconstrued.

However things began to alter. Ryan was always jumping all over me, be it
rough housing or a quick cuddle it did not matter who was there we still
interacted together in this same way. Inevitably the obvious happened his
friends would join in with the rough housing and more often than not I
would end up underneath a pile of lads. This was easy enough to
accept. Lads always enjoy rough and tumble. What was a shock to the system
though was how many of them would sneak a quick hug or some other sign of
affection. If there were a film on the TV I would always end up surrounded
by lads, often tightly sandwiched between two whilst sitting upon the sofa.

As you know my experience with lads was limited to say the least. In the
past I had avoided boys like the plague for fear of losing control, now
here they were swamping me and I have to say I didn't know what to make of
the situation. There are no self-help books available on the subject (some
hope!) and there was no one I could ask for advice, well there was one
person.

One evening I found myself in the uncomfortable position of asking a twelve
year old for advice.

It had been a quiet evening, only Ryan's best friend Adam had come round
and as usual I had ended up been attacked by the pair of them. For once I
hadn't let them win but had got them both squashed against the wall in
short order. After this we had put the TV on and sat down to watch the
Simpson's of all things. Ryan had assumed his usual position of snuggling
into my side wrapping my arm around his shoulders. With no hesitation Adam
did the same purposely lifting my arm around his shoulders snuggling into
my other side. Ok so this isn't unpleasant in fact it made me feel all warm
and fuzzy inside. It did trouble me though that Adam would do this with
someone he didn't really know.

So when Adam had gone home I asked Ryan rather hesitantly. "You know while
we were watching cartoons Adam put my arm round his shoulders, any idea
why?"

Ryan assumed quite a serious expression. "It's because he likes you. You're
the only man who plays with him. His step dad's not that interested in
him."

"Oh!"

"That's the reason why all my friends like coming round here."

It had never struck me that Ryan didn't go to the other lad's houses they
always came to the cottage.

"But we never do anything special just mess about."

Ryan came and sat upon my knee

"That's why you're so special. No other adults will play with us like
that. They're too busy or serious or not interested or can't be bothered.
Most dads think their lads are to big for hugs and stuff."

"I can't believe that all your friends' dads and stuff are like that
though."

"Most of them are but it's just that most of my friends think you're really
cool."

I was rather shocked and delighted at this little revelation.

"I didn't know I'd got my own fan club."

"Yes its great their all jealous of me getting to live with you and stuff."

"Stuff?"

"All the great stuff we do together, the races and pubs and stuff."

Not long after Ryan had moved in I had started to take him to pubs to see
various different groups. It was a valuable part of his education to
develop a taste for music rather than the "plastic pop" which is so widely
distributed today. Obviously our various exploits were becoming widely
known throughout Ryan's circle of friends.

"I hope other things about us remain within these four walls," I pointedly
stated.

"What like you being a dirty old man?" Ryan giggled.

"Exactly that!"

"Don't worry I'm not thick; I don't want you to go to prison"

Somewhat mollified I asked, "You don't mind your friends stealing the odd
hug then? I don't encourage them."

"You do! Only you don't know your doing it."

"Ok I can't help that but is it ok with you?"

"I don't mind sharing you that much just make sure you behave."

"Pardon?"

"You know what I mean, don't get carried away and start forgetting about
me!"

"How could I do that when I can smell you before I see you?"

That was it the seriousness of the moment passed. Ryan decided that his
honour had to be regained by giving me a good pummelling.

After that night I became more aware of the lads Ryan brought home. More
often than not it was Adam.

Adam had rapidly become Ryan's best friend; the two spent a great deal of
time together, at school, at various after school clubs, at the cottage and
roaming around the village on weekends. I specifically would not let Ryan
go out to roam the streets at night. Seeing gangs of kids hanging around
the streets always pissed me off so I wasn't going to let my boy become
part of that culture.

I was lucky that he did not object. I think that as his previous home life
had been so lonely he was keen to be at home as much as possible now he had
someone who cared for him. This was reinforced by the fact that I was
always happy to have his friends around the cottage, providing they did not
turn my home into an impromptu youth club.

Some weeks after, we were cleaning the cars together when Ryan asked if
Adam could stay the next weekend as his parents were going away and he
would have to go to his grandmothers, which was incredibly boring.

I gave his request a few moments concentration.

"That should be fine, provided you both behave and you stay in your own bed
for the weekend."

"Ok Uncle Mikey."

 Ryan was soon bounding around like an over enthusiastic puppy making plans
for what we would do that next weekend.

"Remember we are going to "The Mill" on Saturday night."

The Mill was a local music venue dealing in folk, country, jazz plus all
other forms of proper music. We often went there if there was a good turn
on.

"We will have to check with Adam's folks if it's ok for us to take him
there."

This proved to be no obstacle. It surprises me what parents will let their
kids do if someone else is looking after them. Adam's folks were more than
happy to let him go with us.

Come Saturday Adam came around to the cottage complete with enough luggage
to make a movie starlet jealous. What his parents thought he was going to
do in a weekend I don't know. Once we had his luggage stowed the boys
entertained each other for the rest of the day getting up to god only knows
what mischief. It did leave me time though to finish off the commission I
was working upon.

Come the evening I thought that two prema donas had moved into the cottage
considering the amount of time the boys spent in the bathroom. When they
had finally finished getting ready I could not help but make the comment to
them that the bathroom now smelt like a tarts boudoir. This brought two
rather dis-chuffed grunts from the boys. Well what could they expect? They
had used more hair gel, deodorant and aftershave (as if!) than a brigade of
guards.

I must say that they both looked incredibly cute. I was rather proud to
have two such charming lads with me when we walked into "The Mill."

We had an excellent night the group were brilliant and both boys really
enjoyed themselves.

As the show finished late and with the time it took to drive home they were
both asleep long before we arrived.

As I turned the engine off I could not help but pause and look at the two
boys slumbering together in the back of the Landrover. They looked so cute
and peaceful leaning upon each other, chests gently rising and falling. I
could have sat and watched them all night. However, they both began to stir
and so I herded them indoors and made them both cocoa.

The sleeping arraignments had been clarified before we went out. Adam was
to sleep on the sofa bed in Ryan's room and Ryan was under strict (private)
orders to remain in his own bed.

When they had finished their supper I sent the boys up to bed.

A half hour later I went up to turn their light out and go to bed
myself. The boys were both in Ryan's bed reading comics. As I went in, Ryan
looked up and said, "Tell us a story pweese Uncwel Mikey?" To which Adam
joined in, "Pweese Uncwle Mikey?"

"You little beasts can both stop that right now!" I said in mock
indignation. "I would not have thought two big boys would want a story."

They both started to sulk.

"Ok. Ok but its not my fault if the tale I have for you is too scary."

This had them both hooked.

So I sat on the foot of the bed and started to spin a tale of death and
horror with extra blood and guts.

I held both boys spell bound for a good thirty minutes until I made them
almost wet themselves with a blood-curdling scream. As they both calmed
down I asked Adam if he was staying in Ryan's bed or the camp bed. I think
I had scared the both a little to much as he decided to stay where he
was. So tucking them both in I said goodnight and turned their light out.

I could not help but chuckle to myself whilst getting ready for bed. It's
always fun scaring boys a little.

As usual I woke around three and was pissed off to find Ryan snuggled up
next to me. He had ignored what I had told him. I then realised there was
someone else snuggled into the other side of me.  Both Adam and Ryan had
their arms and legs thrown over me.

One thought and one thought only came to my mind, "Oh shit!"