Date: Wed, 22 Dec 2004 12:14:40 -0800 (PST)
From: bob smith <mason0201@yahoo.com>
Subject: Finally Home/Growing up/Chapter 6

If you are not of age of consent in your area (18 or 21), please do not
read on.  I never got that rule, I mean who needs access to erotica more
then lonely gay teenagers?  Oh well, go away anyway.  If you're offended by
gay men having sex, or being in love, then what the heck are you doing here
anyway?  Go away.

This is my story, I wrote it from my own mind.  Any relations to events in
real life is purely coincidental.  Do not reprint this story without
permission.

This is a sequel to Finally Home, which can also be found in the Beginnings
section.  Many parts of this story will not make sense unless you read
Finally Home.  This is Brian's story, you will first meet him in Finally
Home.

Please be nice.  If you don't like it I don't care, unless you can tell me
why you don't like it.  Then I am very interested.  Thank you.

***** There are probably misspellings and grammer errors in this one
(aren't there always?)  so I apologise, don't write me letters about it
unless you're going to volunteer to be my editor.


Sorry this one took so long.
Merry Christmas.
Mason
mason0201@yahoo.com



Brian's POV


Chapter 6


	I walked home slowly, wondering if I had just made a huge mistake.
I knew that James was interested, but I didn't know if he felt anywhere
near what I felt for him.  What if he didn't love me?  Chances were good
that he didn't.  What if I scared him off?  I mean, I basically told him
that I am in love with him.  By the time I got home fear had settled heavy
into the pit of my stomach.

	I didn't bother to turn the lights on when I got into the
apartment, somehow the dark was soothing, I put in one of Michael's soft
Jazz CD's, made myself a pot of coffee and settled into my favorite chair.
I gazed out the window at the dark night sky and thought about James.  I
let myself get lost in my memories of our times together.  James and I had
talked about his past in depth.  I felt honored that he trusted me.
Thinking back on our time, our talks, I realized how stupid I was to think
of James as a child.  After putting up with all the abuse, then living on
the street, he had been through enough shit to be an adult.  My stupidity
amazes me sometimes.  As I sat there in the dark I made a promise to myself
that I wouldn't underestimate him ever again.  The realization that he
truly was a mature adult made me want him even more.  The fear in my heart
surged and I felt myself tearing up at the thought that I may have lost him
already.  I let the tears fall silently down my face.

	I didn't bother to look up when I heard the door open, thinking it
was Michael and Toby I asked, "How was the rest of the party?"

	"Got pretty boring after you left."  Said a deep voice.  I looked
up in surprise.

	"James?"  I wiped the tears off of my face hastily.  "What are you
doing here?"

	He crossed the room silently and came to a stop in front of me.  He
knelt down and leaned against my knees.  The look in his eyes was so open,
so pure, all I saw was caring and passion.  He reached his large hand up
and gently caressed my cheek, I tilted my head into his touch, his skin was
cold and smooth.  I closed my eyes and kissed his palm.  We stayed frozen
like that for a long moment, I savored his touch, my heart was pounding.

	"You still owe me a dance."  He said softly.

	My breath caught in my throat, "Okay."  I whispered.  He stood and
took my hand, pulling me out of my chair and led me to the open floor
behind the couch.  He wrapped one arm around my waist and the other around
my shoulders and pulled me close.  We started swaying gently to the soft
music that still played in the background.  I rested my forehead on his
shoulder, he was gently rubbing the back of my neck.  Feeling his strong
chest and his big hands had the expected impact, I felt myself blush as I
was unable to control my reaction to him.  I knew he felt it, but I didn't
try to move away.  Then he increased the pressure of his hand on my waist
and pulled me tighter into him, and I felt him too, he was just as hard as
me.  I gasped softly and held him tighter.  My whole body felt flush and a
tingly electricity washed over me, I was aware of every inch of his hard
body pressed tightly into me.

	Slowly he pulled his head back to look at me, I touched his cheek,
looking at him letting all my love for him show in my eyes.  "Brian..." He
whispered as he closed the gap between our lips.  The kiss was gentle at
first, tentative, but as I responded he began to kiss harder, I opened my
mouth and his tongue touched mine, just softly, just at the tip.  It was
electric; I moved both of my hands to his face, holding him there as our
tongues dueled passionately.

	When we broke the kiss there were tears starting to fall down his
face.  He looked at me with those endless brown eyes, "I love you Brian."

	My heart burst open at that moment, a rush or pure joy washed over
me, hearing those words ... was like nothing else I'd ever felt.  "I love
you too James."  My own eyes teared at the joy I felt.  He buried his head
in the side of my neck, holding me as if he was drowning.  I wrapped both
my arms around his broad shoulders.  He was shaking slightly and I felt his
tears on my neck.  It was a watershed moment for him I knew, a step between
a childhood filled with pain and fear and towards a happy peaseful
adulthood.  I held onto him.

	There was a soft noise then and I looked over James's shoulder and
saw Michael and Toby quietly enter the apartment.  Michael was carrying a
small duffle bag.  James didn't let go or move to look at them and I knew
that he was embarrassed by his tears.

	"Hi guys."  I said, a bit embarrassed but not willing to let go.
James squeezed me tighter.

	"Hi."  Toby said quietly.

	"James, we brought your stuff, for the weekend."  Michael said in
the same reverant tone.

	"Thanks." He said, finally glancing at them and wiping his eyes.

	"Father P said that since you're 18 now you can stay with us
whatever weekend you want.  We assumed you'd probably be staying this
weekend."

	"Thanks."  He said again, they left the bag and disappeared quietly
down the hallway.

	James looked at me.

	"Do you want to stay?"  I asked, taking his hand in mine.

	He nodded, the look in his eyes was enough to make me plump up
again.

	"Good."  He kissed me again, his lips felt soft and strong at the
same time, I rubbed the back of his neck as our tongues danced.  His hands
moved to my ass, clutching both my cheeks and pulling my hard cock against
his.  I moaned into his mouth.  Finally I couldn't wait anymore, I pulled
back and took his hand.

	"Come on."  I led him to my room, pausing only to pick up the bag
that Michael had left for him.

	James had been in the apartment several times throughout the months
that Toby had lived with us, but never to my room, it was like opening up a
whole new side of myself to him as I led him through the doorway, for some
reason I was nervous to see his reaction.

	He set his bag down and looked around the room slowly.  Finally he
lit on the family picture I have hanging on the wall across the room, he
went over and took it off the wall and looked at it for a long minute.  I
leaned back against my desk and watched him.

	"That's you on the right?"

	"Yeah.  How could you tell?"

	"I can tell you two apart by your smiles."

	"How so?"

	He shrugged.  "I don't know really, yours is different, bigger in a
way.  Goofier.  Michael looks serious even when he's smiling, ya' know?"

	"Yeah.  Michael has serious eyes."

	"How old were you guys here?"

	"Seventeen, it was just a few months before Pop got sick, that's
the last one we have with him in it.  I have a newer one, I keep meaning to
replace it."

	"I wouldn't."  He said quickly, he put the picture back on its nail
and turned to look at me.  "If that's how you see your family then don't
change it.  No matter how old I get I won't ever hang a picture with my
step dad in it, I remember my family as what we were when my dad was still
alive."

	"It doesn't seem healthy though, you know?  I feel like I'm not
moving on."

	"That's not how I see it."  He moved on to my bookshelf and looked
over the titles.  "You keep that picture up because you honor your dad, I
don't see the harm in that."

	I considered that for a moment, "...never thought of it that way."

	He stopped reading titles and turned back to me.  Our eyes met
across the room, he breathed in deeply.  "Smells like you."

	"I smell a lot."

	He laughed softly, and then turned serious in the next moment, his
whole demeanor changed.  He crossed the room and stopped just out of my
reach.  "I have something to tell you."

	"Okay."  I knew this side of James; this was the side of James that
was shy and skittish and vulnerable, the side of James that came out when
he was telling his deepest secrets.

	"Remember how I told you I stopped hustling after we moved into the
shelter?"  He asked, looking off to the side, not meeting my eyes.

	"I remember."

	"Well, that wasn't exactly the truth."

	Something tightened in my chest.  I had resigned myself to the fact
that James had sold his body, I understood the need, and I hurt for that
scared brave young man.  I didn't think any less of him for it, but it all
seemed so long ago, this new admission brought it all into the present in a
way, I was scared suddenly of what I would hear next.

	"Okay."  I spoke softly, keeping the new anxiety out of my voice,
more than my worry was my desire to support James in always being honest
with me.  I wanted him to feel like he could trust me with anything.  "It's
okay James, anything you need to tell me, it's okay."

	He took a deep breath.  "It was just after we got there, I didn't
really feel safe yet, I... I felt like we should have a back-up plan for
after Martin got better.  Have some spare cash hidden away.  You know, in
case we had to bolt.  That's how I was thinking, you know... survival
instinct."

	"Yeah."  I said softly. I reached out gently and he took my hand,
still not looking at me, but knowing I was there anyway.

	"There was this guy, the kids all said he paid good if you didn't
mind a little kink, and he'd been sniffing after me for a while so I went
out one night and gave him a price and he agreed."  His hand held mine
tighter.

	I wanted to stop him, I wasn't sure I wanted to hear this, but I
knew he needed to tell me.  I squeezed his hand.

	"I knew what kink was, I... I knew he might like it rough.  In my
head I knew all that. But it still didn't prepare me, he was cool about it,
explained what a safe word was and we picked one, but it still...."  His
eyes filled with tears.

	I stood up, right in front of him, put my hands on his waist.  He
took a deep breath.  "James."  I whispered.

	"It wasn't that he hurt me, I was expecting that, he just... he
made me feel like a whore.  And that was the first time, ever, that any of
my jons had actually gotten to me, actually made me feel... so cheap."

	I put my arms around him, hugged him tight.  After a moment of
tension he went limp, all his hard tension turned soft and pliant against
me and he buried his face in the crook of my neck and cried again.

	I held him like that for a long time, rubbing his back and
murmuring soothing words in his ear as the pain drained away.  I felt his
tears on my neck slow and start to dry.  He pulled back and I wiped his
face silently.

	He sniffled, looking and sounding very much like a five year old
and I fell in love all over again.  "I've only ever told Father P that,
but... I just wanted you to know.  That time, that was the real reason I
stopped hustling.  And , well..."  He stopped again and met my gaze.

	I gave him the most caring look I could translate with my eyes
alone, and waited for what else he obviously needed to say.

	"It's just that, all those guys at the clubs, all that stuff, it
was all meaningless, it was all empty.  Even before we got kicked out I
never had anyone I cared about, I knew I was gay because I knew, but I
never...  I've never..." He stopped, closed his mouth and took in a deep
breath.  He looked me straight in the eye.  "I've never done any of this
with anyone I really cared about."

	I smiled, tried not to laugh.  "Neither have I.  Remember... I am a
recovering player."

	He smiled a bit, the tension eased out of his shoulder.  "I'm just
not sure I'm ready... for... everything.  I mean...  I'm not... I..."

	"Shhh."  I kissed him softly, just a smooch really, then I gave him
a couple more and he melted into me for another hug.  It was addictive
really, James hugs are so caring, so powerful, they were something I would
never grow tired of.  "Close your eyes."  I instructed once he'd pulled
back.

	He did.

	"Now, take a deep breath."

	He did.

	"Now, say what you need to say."

	"I'm not ready to have sex yet."

	I was surprised, but not disappointed.  His eyes snapped open to
see my reaction.  Sex had always been a big part of my life but where James
was concerned I knew it would never be the most important thing in our
relationship.  I recovered quickly, "Okay." I said easily.

	"Really?"  He asked, watching me carefully.

	"Yeah.  Listen Babe, there is nothing I would like to do more then
jump your bones, but sex isn't pivotal.  You know?"

	His smile warmed the room.  "Yeah, exactly.  I want us to be so
much more, I'm just scared of falling back into the old patterns."

	"I know, I know.  Me too."

	He grinned.  "You feelin' my vibe?"

	"I'm down with it."

	He laughed.

	"What?"

	"You are so white."

	"Shut up."

	He just grinned.

	"So how about we institute an underwear rule?"

	"A what?"  He raised an eyebrow.

	"An underwear rule, we had it growing up, whenever we were in the
presence of another member of the house we had be wearing at least our
undergarments.  We have that rule here too, for the public area's."

	He raised one eyebrow at me.  "You thought up the Hanky-Panky rule
too didn't you?"

	"Yes...  Why are you laughing at me?"

	He kissed my forehead.  "Let me clarify."

	"Okay."

	"I would very much like to be intimate with you."

	I furrowed my brow, confused.  "But you said..."

	"I was talking in the 'biblical' sense."

	"Huh?"

	"I was talking about... penetration."  He waited for me to get it.

	"Oh... OH.  So we can get naked together?"

	"Yes, naked and kissing and mutual orgasms and everything.  I would
very much like to jump your bones too."

	"You are such a sweet talker."  I teased, running my hands over his
chest.

	He grinned teasingly.  "I practiced that line in the mirror."

	I laughed.

	He smiled for a moment but then got serious.  He rubbed his hands
up and down my sides.  "I had this jon, he was a regular, he liked me 'cuz
I reminded him of this guy he was hot for when they were kids.  Mostly he
liked me 'cuz I'm black.  You knew I was black right?"

	"I'd noticed."

	He laughed.  "Anyway, that was my closest thing to a normal
relationship, this guy liked to pretend I was this guy he was in love with,
even called me his name and everything.  Otherwise he was pretty vanilla
about sex, and we did it both ways, so I got a chance to figure out, you
know..."  He started blushing.  "I'm flexable, but what I really like
is... you know... catching... more then pitching, so like when that other
guy fucked me up like he did.  It just freaked me out.  I mean I trust you,
I'm just ..."

	"Shhh."  I put my fingertips to his lips.  "It's okay.  We can take
it slow.  Slow is good.  I like slow."

	He leaned in as I was speaking, pressing me back against the desk
until suddenly we were kissing again.  It's overpowering, kissing someone
you're in love with.  Or maybe it's just the chemistry James and I had that
it was overpowering, feeling him tense and pressing, his lips soft but
demanding, and then his tongue... the man worked magic with that tongue,
but I learned quickly that all I had to do was flick my tongue over the
front of his upper gums and he would go limp.  That was James, all hard
muscles and serious passion one moment; all limp, pliant, soft skin, and
eager moans the next.  I found that special spot and he went limp and then
he got aggressive again and started tugging at my shirt, I returned the
favor and unbuttoned his shirt, pausing only when he pulled my shirt over
my head - not even bothering with the buttons.

	Then his shirt was open and mine was gone completely and I felt his
skin against mine for the first time.  It was incredible, I felt like I was
floating, my hands couldn't get enough of him.  I ran them up and down his
sides then over his back, impossible soft skin stretched over impossibly
hard muscles.  We were still kissing, circling and circling until my knees
hit the edge of my bed and before I even realized it I was falling
backwards.

	We landed in a tangle on my creeky old bed with James right on top
of me I let out an involuntary "Omph."

	James started to giggle.

	"What are you laughing at?"

	He just grinned at me.  So I traced my way down his ribs and
started to tickle.  We wrestled playfully for a few minutes ... until we
ended up on the floor, both of us laughing.

	But then we were kissing again, deep and desprate and I felt this
overwhelming helplessness wash over me.  This was it, this man, here with
James was where I wanted to be all of my life, it was a heady experience,
the reality of my love for him fully sinking into me, down to my bones,
wrapping around my soul like a soft warm blanket that would never go away.
I sighed, went limp and let James map my neck and chest with his eager
tongue.

	We were still on the floor, I thought of that fact in the back of
my mind as I floated on a happy aroused cloud.  I couldn't seem to wrap my
mind around it, all I could do was feel.  The immence peace of my holding
soulmate, finally, in my arms.

	He came back up to my lips and the passion of his kiss spurred me
into action.  He let me roll him over, still on the floor, though we could
have been rolling through hot lava and I wouldn't have cared.  I pearched
ontop of him I slid open his fly popped the button open and slid my hand
inside.

	I expected to be shy about our inimacy, just a few moments ago I
was scared to death, but now I couldn't wait to get my hands on him.  I
love foreplay, I could foreplay all day, but now, here, I needed the real
thing, I needed the connection, the intimacy of making love, I needed the
seal the deal.

	Not to be vulger, but James had the most beatiful cock I have ever
seen, thick and long and straight, and that thing about black guys being
big.... absolutely true.  I dominated the kiss and I explored him with my
hands, reveling in the sensations racing around inside of me.  This man was
mine, all for me, everything in his life and mine had lead us up to this.

	I didn't realize he'd undone my pants until I felt his hands on my
ass, big and thick clutching me, and then his hand moved around, caressing
my hip and wrapped around my cock, I'm no slouch when it comes to size but
felling that big hand wrapped around me made me feel barely average.  But
then his appreciative groan whipped away any inadequacy I might have felt.

	I didn't plan, didn't think about how our first time should be, I
just did, I had to, acting on pure instinct I lined us up, felt the heat of
him against me and started to move.  And with a deep needy groan, he
wrapped his arms around me and moved with me.

	It was beautiful and perfect and everything I'd never known I was
looking for.  Our bodies moved like two parts of a well oiled machine
locked together like they were made that way.  We moved together in
achingly perfect harmony, and together we found glory.

	Afterwards, sated and sticky and completely boneless laying in a
heap on my bedroom floor, I nuzzled James's neck and contented myself with
licking the sweat off his neck.  Any other movement would have to wait at
least a year.  His hands skimmed up and down my spine, traced the lines in
my shoulder muscles.

	Then he started to laugh.

	"What's wrong with you?"  I grumbled into his neck.  Sex makes me
incredibly lazy, always has, makes me want to curl up like a cat and snooze
in the sun.

	"Us."

	"Hmmm?"

	"You're like, old and grown up and shit."

	"So?"

	"And we just shimmied our way to oblivian on your bedroom floor,
like a couple of 14 year olds."  He laughed some more and I couldn't help
but smile into his neck.

	"Shimmied?"

	"You know."  He thrust his hips up, mimicking my movements that
just a few moments before had helped bring me off.

	"That's what you call it?"

	"Well, I'm sure there's a technical word for it..."

	"Frattage, it's called frattage."

	"There it is."

	"What?"

	"I was beginning to worry."

	"What?"

	"I expected you to be cool and classy and smooth, like you usually
are.  We end up shimmiing on your messy bedroom floor I was begininning to
wonder why I bothered with an old guy like you, then you pull out sexy
grown up words like that and I remember."

	I pulled back, gave him a speculative look.  "You're with me cause
I'm old?"

	"Sure, in part."  He grinned.

	"Because I have a bigger vocabulary then you do?"

	"That's part of it to."  His eyes twinkled at me.

	"Because I'm better in the sack then you?"

	"Oh now you're in trouble."  He started to tickle me.

	We wrestled for a bit, I ended up on my back on the bed, my night
stand and lamp broken inyo peices on the floor.  Our struggle changed
subtly, I nipped at his ear lobe, "Or maybe it's because you love me."

	His lips found mine, teased over mine, "Yeah, I think that's it."
Then he kissed me.


Fin.

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

Look for "Finding My Way" in the High School section, sometime in the new
year.

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