Date: Sun, 3 Mar 2002 16:02:45 -0800 (PST)
From: Evan Bradely <evanbradley33@yahoo.com>
Subject: Chapter 28 of "Ambush"

The following fictional story deals with sex among males.  If you are
offended by such material, are too young, or reside in an area where it
is not allowed, depart. Though not observed in this story, care enough
about yourself and humankind to practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights.  No reproductions or links to other
sites are allowed without the author's consent.

EvanBradley33@Yahoo.com

Chapter 28
Claimings and Combats

I lay happily enclosed in Ron's arms.  Following dinner at Francini's,
we'd made passionate love, after which he announced that he was
claiming me.  He wasn't kidding.  I reciprocated, claiming him, for
while I liked his domination, I wasn't giving up my standing entirely.
Tim's reading of my independent streak was accurate.

Ron and I were basking in the afterglow when I heard a key being
inserted in the lock of the front door.  I'd started to roll away from
Ron to grab for my clothes, but he held me back.  As the front door
swung open, I was struggling to break out of his arm lock around my
chest.  Any other time, the closeness and his possessive grasp would
have been welcome, but I was in panic/flight mode.

Kenny walked jauntily in the door, looking back over his shoulder and
laughing at Jeremy behind him.  Kenny's head swung around as he started
to enter the living room.  The second he spied us naked on the sunroom
carpet, his mouth fell open, and he stopped dead in his tracks.  Jeremy
barged in the door, colliding with Kenny, sliding an arm around his
waist to keep from bowling him over.  When his eyes followed Kenny's
gaze, he saw us.

He laughed out loud.  "Hey, guys, somebody got lucky.  I guess a
powerful mood hit, ya, huh?  I hope it was good," Jeremy teased as he
shut and locked the door.

"Come on in," Ron invited.  "We've been mating."  I heard Jeremy
snicker.  I looked over my shoulder at Ron, seeing a grin on his face
and a twinkle in his eye, telling me he was about to launch an agenda.
I wondered if it had anything to do with that impression I'd picked up
on our way to dinner at Francini's - the intimation being that Ron was
toying with me because he knew something I couldn't possibly imagine.
Jeremy started walking over to us, pulling a dazed Kenny with him.
When they reached the sunroom door, they stopped.  Kenny had managed to
close his mouth, but he was still goggle-eyed.

"Uh . . . Jeremy and Kenny," I said, blushing, "meet Ron Hamilton . . .
a friend. He assumed Tim Minor's position in the Science Department."

"Dad," Jeremy, grinned, "you're really serious about celebrating
National Friendship Week.  And you didn't clue me in," he said
impishly.  "If I'd known this, we wouldn't have had time for a mediocre
movie tonight."

"Word has it that you two and a couple of your friends have all the
clues you need about celebrating friendships," I retorted, instantly
regretting what I'd said.  I was thinking of Susan's news about Troy,
Cody, Jeremy, and Kenny having had a group grope, yet I had no grounds
for saying anything at all.  I frowned, realizing that I could turn away
from my insecurities, acting as though they weren't there, but they
were.  They had just now made their presence known, catching me with my
guard down.  As long as I ignored this issue of Troy and the guys, it
would crop up unexpectedly.  As a matter of fact, I hadn't even figured
out what the issue was, but my feelings told me one existed.  And if I
inadvertently mouthed off because of it, I would be left feeling small
- as I did now.  Even Ron was looking at me with one of his eyebrows
raised in question.  I was going to have to find some quiet time to
think through this matter.

My popping off to Jeremy made his eyes narrow as he scrutinized my
face. Kenny glanced over his shoulder once at Jeremy as though seeking
a clue about how to deal with my challenge.  They were wondering how I
found out about the four-way romp.

Cleverly side-stepping the awkward moment, Jeremy took his arm from
Kenny's waist, stepping down into the sunroom and reaching to shake
Ron's outstretched hand.  "Welcome, Ron.  If we can help you settle in,
let us know."

Kenny followed Jeremy in offering his hand, albeit tentatively.  "Hi,
Ron."

Nothing was said for a moment.  "You want to help me settle in?  Then
strip," Ron ordered.

A grin exploded across Jeremy's face.  He immediately peeled out of his
jacket and shucked off his pullover, revealing those sexy quarter-size
chocolate nipples.  He unfastened the buckle of his belt, unbuttoned
and unzipped his trousers, allowing them to fall down his long,
runner's legs.  He stepped out of them a little clumsily, and then
quickly pulled off his shoes and socks, using his foot to push them
over by his discarded clothes.

Kenny had removed nothing.  Ron looked at him.  "Cub, I said 'strip.'"
Jeremy came over and pulled Kenny's jacket off.  Only at that point did
Kenny seem to regain command of his senses enough to assist Jeremy.
They both pulled Kenny's clothes off him in seconds, but not without
Kenny's brow wrinkling nor without his studying Jeremy intently.  I
glanced at Ron.  He caught Kenny's wariness, winking at me.  Good -
he'd be careful with Kenny.

Jeremy lowered his jockeys, allowing his erect seven inches to swing
out and up. He reached down, grabbing his hairy ball sack, stretching
it out so that it hung low.  Kenny pulled off his jockeys less quickly.
Jeremy reached over, caressing his lover's fat five-inch dick and
pulling on it, smiling reassurance at Kenny.

Ron grabbed Jeremy's wrist, pulling him down and behind Ron.  A breathy
"Oh" escaped Jeremy's mouth.  During the maneuver, Ron let go of me and
rolled over to face Jeremy.  He pushed Jeremy flat with a paw placed in
the middle of his chest.  They smiled at each other.  Then Ron leaned
down and began vigorous swipes with his tongue over skin and muscles,
starting with Jeremy's left pelvic bone and ending just under his left
rib cage.  Jeremy gasped, for he felt the raspy part of Ron's tongue
set those muscles trembling.  In short order, the bundles would be
issuing micro trembles.  Ron moved in swipes across Jeremy's stomach to
his other side.  Jeremy's hands clasped Ron's shoulders so hard that
his fingers were turning white, leaving Ron's skin around Jeremy's
fingers white too.  At the same time, Jeremy began making a humming noise.

I reached up, pulling Kenny down in front of me so that I was spooning
him as we watched Ron ministering to Jeremy.  At this point, Ron was
painting Jeremy's pubic forest, cock, and balls with his tongue,
leaving him moaning, his eyes shut. Ron reached up and twisted Jeremy's
nipples, eliciting a yelp.

While we were watching Ron and Jeremy, I began gently circling Kenny's
nipples with my fingertips.  Then I'd trail them lightly down his
stomach and onto his cock and balls.  Back up onto his stomach as
though I were stroking the strings on a guitar.  I felt that warm,
poochy ass push back hard into my cock, which was coming to life again.
I loved the feeling of his warm ass cheeks enfolding, then squeezing my
cock.  I kissed the side of his face, feeling his top hand move over to
grip and then stroke my hairy, muscular thigh.  But Kenny wasn't
looking at me.  He was watching Ron and then Jeremy and then Ron as
though he'd never seen one male make love to another.  I whispered in
his ear, "Study Ron with that magic vision you use when sketching
someone.  Look inside him."

I could feel Kenny's body signal a subtle shift.   He was using his
artistic faculty to view Ron from a different perspective.  In one
sense, Kenny's body relaxed.  In another, his body became poised,
waiting.

"Everything okay?" I whispered to Kenny.

"Okay," he turned toward me, whispering.  "Ron's strong.  He wants us,
but he wants us to belong to him so he can take care of us.  He wants
to belong to us too. In some ways, he's like Robert."

Ron moved down to swipe his tongue up Jeremy's inner thighs, pausing
occasionally to administer a little nip with his teeth.  Jeremy could
no longer contain the pleasure he was feeling:  his body was rolling
back and forth as though preparing to flee, but I knew flight was the
furthest intention Jeremy might be entertaining.  Then Ron was back on
Jeremy's cock and balls, gently nipping his scrotal skin, pulling it
out with little shakes of his head from side to side.  Or he'd gently
squeeze Jeremy's cock head between his molars - all while growling.
Jeremy probably felt as though he were being eaten alive.  Kenny, only
a spectator, was trembling with excitement.  His cock shot out a little
dollop of precum, which I lightly massaged onto the head.

Suddenly, Jeremy reared up, trying to push Ron over.  I assumed that he
wanted to take the lead by making love to Ron too.  Ron would have none
of it.  They grappled - with one seeming to gain the upper hand and
then the other, but I could see that, whereas Jeremy was working hard,
Ron was just toying with him. Finally, Ron exerted his superior
strength, grabbing Jeremy's arms and pushing them to the carpet.
Jeremy still struggled, but he was no match for Ron.  Ron managed to
get his mouth on Jeremy's, delivering a blistering kiss.  It slowly
overwhelmed Jeremy's limbs as his struggles diminished.  He emitted a
brief whimper.  Ron broke the kiss and returned to his ambush of
Jeremy.

Jeremy didn't resist when Ron pushed his legs back and continued those
swipes up Jeremy's crack onto his pucker, occasionally pausing to nip
one or the other of Jeremy's cheeks.  A chorus of moans, little yelps,
and breathy sighs from Jeremy punctuated the proceedings.  Ron wet two
of his fingers and worked them into Jeremy's shapely ass, raising the
volume of his chorus.  While plunging his fingers in and out of Jeremy,
Ron moved back to Jeremy's cock and balls, speeding up the swipes with
his tongue.  Once in a while, he would cap Jeremy's cock with his
mouth.  Then he would remove his fingers from Jeremy's chute and drill
that powerful tongue into Jeremy.  Then he was back on Jeremy's cock
and balls.  I knew he was swirling his tongue around that cap and
sucking hard.  With his balls already pulled up tight against his cock,
Jeremy's chorus grew in volume. Suddenly, his butt shot off the floor
as a long streamer of cum erupted from his cock, shooting over his
chest and splashing his chin.

I heard a sympathetic whimper from Kenny as Jeremy climaxed.  Kenny's
cock shot another little dollop of precum, which I tasted.  It was hot
and sweet.  I scooped what I could on my finger and held it to Kenny's
mouth.  He looked back at me and then licked his own precum off my
finger.   Jeremy continued to shoot, gasping for breath, and Ron kept
licking away.  When Jeremy dropped back to the floor, Ron moved over
him.  "I claim you, Jeremy," Ron announced solemnly, throwing his big
arms around him and kissing him passionately.

When the kiss was over, Jeremy slowly raised his head.  "You can claim
me again if you want to," he joked weakly.

Ron smiled while rolling over and looking at Kenny, who shrank back
against me. Gently, Ron grasped Kenny, pulling him over to him.  "Your
turn, Cub," Ron muttered.  Then he started licking Kenny's side,
immediately drawing a long moan from Kenny.  He duplicated the patterns
of his love-making with Jeremy while the latter looked on, smiling.
Then Jeremy reached out and began caressing Ron's muscular ass.  I
joined him.  Soon we were running our fingertips over his shoulders,
back, ass, and legs.  We knew he liked it because he started growling
again.

Jeremy caught my glance, then looked down at Ron's ass, indicating that
I had first call in attacking it.  So I scooted over, giving Ron some
of his own medicine, licking in long, vigorous swipes up his cheeks and
into his crack.  His hot male scent initially made my breath shorten,
turning me on.  When Kenny looked over at Jeremy, the latter's smile
signaled approval.

Then Ron thrust two spit-slick fingers into Kenny, who began bucking
his cute ass in response, all prompted by pleasure.  Then Ron was back
on Kenny's five-inch dick, easily deep-throating it.  Perhaps because
he had watched Ron and Jeremy having sex while I had been caressing his
body, in no time at all Kenny was blasting away, moaning loudly.  With
the end of Kenny's orgasm, Ron intoned, "I claim you, Kenny."  Ron
rose over him, clasping him in his beefy arms and kissing him hard.
But he wanted to take special care with Kenny, so he finally broke the
kiss, looking into Kenny's eyes.  "Okay, Cub?" he asked gently.  Kenny
smiled and rose up, initiating another kiss with Ron.

Then Ron flopped back to the floor, rolling over to me.  He looked into
my eyes. "You okay?" he inquired.  I knew he was asking about his
taking the lead with Jeremy and Kenny by making love to them.  Like
Kenny, I leaned up and kissed him, making certain he knew that I too
was following his lead.  I loved the smells of Jeremy and Kenny
mingling with Ron's.  Jeremy had moved over to Kenny, embracing and
then kissing him.

Eventually, we all looked at each other, taking in the scene.  Ron
pointed to himself:  "Leo major," he announced, using the proper Latin
pronunciation.  Then he pointed at Jeremy:  "Leo minor."  Then he
pointed to Kenny and me:  "Catuli [cubs]."  H-m-m-m.  I'd have to find
out how he became acquainted with Latin.

"You mean the Pride's back," Kenny asked eagerly.

"It's back," Ron answered.

"Great!  I've seen one only once," Jeremy said, looking at Kenny and
me, tacitly reminding us that he'd watched Robert fuck us in the
exercise room by the gym at school, where Jeremy had taken refuge the
night of the second ambush. "I've always wanted to be in one."

"How did you know?" I asked Ron.

He looked at me several seconds, then at Jeremy and Kenny.  I knew he
was pondering how to answer the question.  If his answer was so
important that it required such lengthy consideration, he was going to
say something that wouldn't sit well with at least one of us.

"Tim."

Now I was the one surprised.  At least that mystery was solved:  Ron
had been behaving archly because he knew about the Pride, and he
intended to re-establish it with himself as the lead Lion.  "How did
Tim know?  I never told him.  I can't think . . . anyone else did," I
caught myself before mentioning any names.

Ron frowned briefly, then looked at Kenny.  "Tim and your former
boyfriend had started getting together."  I saw Kenny jerk, then tears
begin to twinkle in his eyes.

'Oh, no,' I thought.  'I had hoped that Kenny was over Robert.'  Maybe
I wasn't allowing enough credit for how deeply Kenny had felt about him
or, more likely, how hurt he had been by Robert's dumping him.  Come to
think of it, Robert was probably not only Kenny's first disappointment
in love but also his very first love experience.  But now he'd learned
that, before dumping him for Lisa Wemberley, Robert had been attracted
to Tim.  Jeremy pulled Kenny tighter against him, whispering something
reassuring in his ear, then turning him and kissing him.

Ron put his hand on Kenny's thigh.  "You're with a beautiful man now,
Kenny. A stronger man.  A Lion.  You've lost nothing.  You're better
off.  Let him love and protect you as you deserve."

Jeremy's eyes shone with pride as he looked at Kenny.  He glanced over
at me, sharing that same pride.

I put my hand on Ron's shoulder.  "You never said anything this
evening," I remarked as noncommittally as possible.  I didn't want him
to think me angry or judgmental, for I wasn't feeling that way.

"I wanted us to be more established before I said anything.  Then you
could trust me."

"Did the Pride have anything to do with your deciding to move here and
assume Tim's former position?" I asked.  Jeremy and Kenny were watching
us closely, listening carefully, for they'd never seen Ron and me
interacting intimately.  Their presence didn't leave me feeling
uncomfortable at all.  Given my feelings for Jeremy and Kenny and what
had just transpired, and the ease with which I asked my question of
Ron, I realized that we were indeed a Pride.  It wasn't exactly like
Robert, Kenny and me, but the overall sense of belonging was there.
Together, we constituted something larger than our individual selves.
I even sensed from Ron's ritualistic claiming of each of us a movement
toward mythic dynamics that marked the former Pride.

Ron answered, "I wasn't making anything up when I told you that I came
here for you, Evan.  After all Tim's talk about you and answers to my
questions about you, I was fairly certain you'd allow me into your
life, allow me to claim you as mine. I even suspected that you would
turn the tables to claim me just to demonstrate that you possessed an
independent spirit.  The very idea turned me on.  I'm proud to have
conquered you and proud to belong to you."  He leaned over and kissed
me gently but warmly.  Nothing could compare to the feeling of that
big, warm body touching me from top to bottom.

When Ron broke the kiss, he looked over at Jeremy and Kenny, who needed
no encouragement to reveal their love for each other.  "Why don't we
all sleep here together?  Tomorrow will come soon enough, but we can
still enjoy the night as brothers of the Pride."

"Great idea," Jeremy enthused.  Jeremy and I went to the linen closet
and our bedrooms to grab pillows and blankets.  When we returned to the
sunroom, we spread blankets for us to lie on.  I dropped on one side of
Ron, and Kenny took the other with Jeremy spooning him.  We moved
together so that we were touching. We pulled the blankets over us.
After his strenuous claimings, Ron was soon asleep.  I lay there,
taking in his wonderful smell, pondering the return of the Pride,
wondering where it would move under Ron and Jeremy's direction.

The next morning, a Saturday, Jeremy arose early without disturbing us
to go to work.  We all awoke later in the morning.  I fixed breakfast.
Ron used the occasion to visit with Kenny, drawing him out.  Kenny was
charmed by all the attention.  At Ron's request, Kenny promised he'd do
a sketch of Ron sometime. When he left, he hugged Ron tightly, thanking
him for claiming him and recreating the Pride.  Ron couldn't stay much
longer because some serviceman was coming to his apartment to do some
work.
                             *     *     *

On Monday morning, as I walked from my car to the north door of the school,
I gained a vantage on the front doors on the eastern side
and its parking lot.  Jim Marbury hopped out of his car and loped
around to the passenger side where I could see a shadow.  He opened the
door, allowing Melanie Simpson to step out!  I stopped my forward
progress, squinting so as to see more closely. As Jim shut the door, he
grabbed Melanie's book bag, slinging it over his shoulder and then took
her hand as they gazed soulfully into each other's eyes, strolling to
the east doors.  I guess Melanie had not given up her fixation on jocks
after all.

Blast!  That had to mean Byron Okata had been literally muscled out.  I
wondered if he knew.

Byron would have no coping skills to deal with this turn of events.  I
knew he'd be crushed.  Like Kenny was with Robert, I was certain
Melanie was Byron's first brush with romance.  And Byron was the kind
of guy who would quietly and shyly give her his all because he believed
that what he had long desired was now his.  It was just that simple in
his world.  Melanie was quite attractive and just the right height for
him, an issue that seemed, like age, to be so important to students. As
a result, his demeanor around Melanie in the school foyer a few days
previous had been worshipful.  I'd have to watch Byron closely.  See if
I could help.  But he was so reserved around me.  Maybe Troy or Cody
could sound Byron out, lend him a shoulder to deal with his
disappointment and coach him in dealing with his hurt.  Maybe Susan
knew someone else to point towards Byron.  I knew without a doubt that
Byron would pull way back into a shell and not venture out for a good
long time, so we'd have to intervene to keep him moving along.

"Someone's going to be hurt," I heard behind my shoulder.  I looked
back to discover Cody standing there, watching the scene along with me.
He placed a hand on my shoulder.

"I think you move on cat's feet," I teased.  I didn't hear you walk up
here at all."

"You never catch your prey if you make a lot of noise," he smiled,
squeezing my shoulder, pushing tingles down my spine.

After Ron's reconstitution of the Pride, Cody's reference to prey
resounded for me, sparking a shadow of an idea that never fully formed
even though I tried to grab it.  'There's no way he could know,' I
thought.  "Cody, could Troy, the guys and you take Byron under your
collective wing, making certain he joins you for some activity?  You're
prophetic:  he's going to hurt badly.  I think just being with you guys
could help him a lot.  How about it?"

"Yeah, I'll talk to Troy.  Of course, you'll talk to Susan," he
remarked, smiling. Did he know Susan and me that well?  Of course he
did.  We'd all been together, close.  He and Troy were fairly
constantly in Susan's company during the school day, evenings, and
weekends.  "Here's an idea," he added.  "Why don't you ask Jeremy and
Kenny to take Byron to our basketball game tomorrow night.  Then they
can go out with Susan, Troy and me after the game."

"Great idea," I smiled, reaching over and squeezing the muscles in his
upper left arm.  "I'm going to the game too."

His smile faded.  "I'll warn Coach.  At least one backboard will
probably shatter after Evan Halsey walks in the door.  Will this be the
first game you've ever attended?"

"No!" I exclaimed with exasperation.  "Why in the world would you think
something like that?  I'm not that stand-offish."

He snorted, "Oh yeah, you are."  Then his eyes narrowed.  "You're going
with someone."  It was a statement, not a question.  He was sharp,
quick!  I'd have to remember that.

"Well, Ron Hamilton and I are going to the game.  Ron's new, you know.
I'm kind of helping him integrate in a new school and city."

"Yeah, I heard about your dinner Friday night.  I'll bet it was a hot
time in the old town that night."  His eyes gleamed mischievously.
That shadowy idea flickered on my mental screen and then was gone.

That meant that Tony must have said something.  Or maybe Jeremy.  But
Cody just couldn't know anything else.  The members of the Pride had an
unspoken pact about our privacy.  My inner voice challenged tartly,
"Didn't keep Robert from spilling details to Tim."  I thought briefly
about it.  Robert's lapse was probably due to Tim's considerable power
during sex.  I was all too familiar with that power.

A flash of revelation helped me understand that the power of Tim's
presence during sex and his partner's reaction to it would always lead
him to think he was drawing closer to someone.  He would not realize
that such private information almost demanded more intimacy, which
would ultimately push Tim away.  I wondered to what extent Tim's being
involved sexually with Alan, Robert and me at the same time might have
encouraged him to seek a job miles away.  "Those are only the guys you
know about," that inner voice observed.  "There may well have been
others."  Again, I had a deeper understanding of the clashing forces
inside Tim and in his relationships.

Cody pushed my shoulder to start us walking toward the north doors.
"I'm glad you and Ron are becoming friends, Evan.  I haven't felt good
about your being alone since Tim left."  He put an arm around my waist,
pulling my hip against his. "Besides, I'm at my best when I have
competition."  He threw his head back in a laugh.  Now what did that
mean?
                             *     *     *

I was grading essays in the study that night when the phone rang.
"Hello."

"Hey, Cub, are we still on for the basketball game tomorrow night?

"Hi Ron.  I'm looking forward to it.  It'll probably be the high point
of the week. Sheesh!  What is it saying about a week when one reaches
its high point on Tuesday?  It's downhill from there on."

"That remark overlooks plans I might have," he observed archly.

"Oh," I answered, expressing some skepticism.  "Bring on the plans."  I
heard a light chuckle at the other end of the line.  "So how are your
classes going?" I asked.

"Fine.  I'm really enjoying getting to know my students.  It'll take me
a while to get my lab up to the level I had in my last school.  I'll
have to sweet talk Mary Ellen Branson for more budget to accomplish
that."

"Sweet talk?  If memory serves, your love-making is more forceful," I
teased, cackling at my jab.

"I'll get you for that!" he responded.  "Why don't I come by for you
around 6:30? I have an errand I have to take care of after classes, or
I would pick you up earlier. We can grab something fast for dinner.
We'll catch the last of the junior varsity game and then be there in
good time for the varsity match.  I'm really getting to know and like
Troy and Cody, so I'm eager to see them on the court."

"Okay.  Am I ever going to see your digs, by the way?"

"Yeah, when I get stuff unpacked, put away, new shelves built for
books, and all that.  I'll bring you back here some weekend, lock you
into my lair, and keep you a prisoner of love the entire weekend."

I couldn't help it - I gulped.  He heard it, laughing.  "You were so
ripe for me to come along, Evan" he taunted.  "It's a wonder you didn't
fall at my feet, slobbering to get into my pants."

"I beg your pardon," I took offense.  He laughed with gusto.  "I'm not
the one who moved half way across the state just to be with another
guy.  Your remark is just wishful thinking."

"A feisty rejoinder," he retorted.  "I like it.  Promises a good
wrestling match.  I'll be the winner, of course.  Don't worry, I'll toy
with you so that you can think that you really bring some strength to
the match."  An image of his toying with Jeremy when they wrestled in
the sunroom Friday night filled my mental screen.  My dick began to
harden.

I was glad Ron couldn't see the lascivious grin that was spreading
across my face. But I wasn't caving.  This man was going to work for
it!  "You obviously are unacquainted with my hidden reserves and wiles.
So I'll have to plan some demonstration just to set you straight.
Prepare to be humbled, you hulking brute!"

His laugh was loud and long.  When it died, silence ensued for a bit.
Then softly, "I want it, Evan.  Bring on your best.  Show me your
stuff!"  Another silence followed, but I knew our minds were full of
impressions, feelings, images, hopes. "Tomorrow night at 6:30.  I can't
wait."

"Nor can I."  There was a click at the other end of the line.  I put
the receiver back in its cradle, looking at the phone and smiling about
the great feelings that phone call had engendered.  'I hope this
lasts,' I whispered.

                             *     *     *

Ron's car shot in the driveway a little before 6:30, but I was waiting.
I stepped out on the porch, locked the door, and scooted to his car.
Since I was already out the door before the car stopped, Ron didn't
shut the engine off or move from behind the wheel of the car.  I
bounced into the front passenger's seat, catching a smile from him.  He
backed out and we were on our way.  To save time, we decided to stop by
a cafeteria known for it's good food.  Once we'd filled our trays, paid
for our meals, and chosen a table, we set about eating without
conversing much, but our silence was companionable - for me anyway.
I'd already detected that Ron could be quiet at times, but there was
nothing threatening or ominous in those periods.  It was just Ron.  I'd
never seen him nervous about anything, so he didn't need to fill
silences with talk.

When Ron parked the car at school and we walked to the gym, he put his
arm around me.  But just before we reached the door, he lowered his
hand to pinch my ass, prompting an exclamation from me.  He laughed.
He'd fired the first shot in our competition.  I wasn't exactly certain
what the goal of the competition was, but I knew it would lead us to
discover facets of each other that might have taken longer to come to
light.

As he was looking around the lobby, nodding occasionally to what I
assumed must be students of his, I pulled some money out of my wallet
and stepped ahead of him to the ticket window.  When I turned around, I
handed him his ticket with my eyebrows arched and a challenging, smart-
ass smile.  I'd beaten him.  The serve was back in his court.  Of
course, I'd rather have pinched one of the hard globes of his ass, but
that would have been derivative after his pre-emptory strike. I could
do better than be a mere copycat.

As we made our way through milling students and groups of people moving
to the gym doors, I uttered a quiet exclamation.  We were heading
toward Miles Forbisher and Jim Belton.  Even from the back, they looked
good together, Miles was taller than Jim, bigger frame.  But Jim was
wearing jeans that hugged a sculpted ass and thighs.  Wow!  Those
coveralls he wore at school hid some treasures!  I liked the way his
shoulders tapered to a thin waist.  Miles had bulk, but Jim was svelte.
How could Jim's wife give that body up?

I moved in behind them, squeezing an elbow of each.  They turned, Miles
smiling when he saw me.  Jim didn't smile, but his eyes grew warmer.
The crewneck pullover he wore didn't disguise nicely squared but not
overly developed pecs. He caught me checking him out.  After we
exchanged greetings and shook hands, I introduced them to Ron.  While I
was explaining who Ron was and how he came to be at the school, they
were really looking him over.  Miles would study Ron, then me, then
Ron.  Jim just stared at Ron; then he stared at me.  Oh yeah, just by
looking they knew about Ron and me.  But my smile and eyes told them
that I knew about them too.  Ron picked up on all the dynamics, leaving
him with a smug grin.

"Unless you fellas have other plans," Ron remarked, "let's sit together
during the game, get to know each other.  As a newcomer, I can use all
the information three guys can supply.

"Great," Jim replied, leaving me surprised.  It just wasn't like Jim to
take the initiative in a social situation, but he certainly did so on
this occasion.  I wondered if it owed to his growing closer to Miles.
Or it could be that Jim thought Ron might become a buddy since Jim
could see him every day at school even if Ron was in another part of
the building.

We moved into the gym, settling on a bleacher some distance down from
the student section and about five rows above the floor.  I let the big
guys move ahead while I brought up the rear.  Ron would be sitting next
to Jim and close to Miles so that they would have a better chance to
get acquainted.  We piled our coats next to me.

We hadn't been sitting long when LaRonda and Clifton and LaKeisha and
Roland came strolling by to take seats in the student section.  The
minute LaRonda spotted me and Ron, her eyes riveted on us, vacuuming in
key details while her mind started asking questions.  Clifton,
LaKeisha, and Roland called out greetings and waved, but they weren't
monitoring us the way LaRonda was.  I knew it wouldn't be the last time
this night that she would study us.  She smiled sweetly, greeting both
Ron and me by name.

"Who's that?" Ron asked.  "How does she know my name?  She's not a
student of mine."

"LaRonda Hughes, an investigative journalist in the making and a
student in my Junior English section," I replied.

He looked at me with an eyebrow cocked.  "Knows everything that's going
on, and if she doesn't, she finds out?" he intuited.

"You've got it," I said.  "But she's a good friend too.  She's not one
who really trades in information just to use it for her own ends.
She's possesses a loving heart.  As you can see, she's also blessed
with an allure that attracts men," I explained with a smile.  All I got
as a reaction from him was that cocked eyebrow.

Shortly after our arrival, the junior varsity game ended with a win for
us.  I noticed the victory pumped up the student section, for the noise
from there grew a little louder.  I wondered where Jeremy and Kenny
were.  Surely down there in the student section.  I hoped Byron Okata
was in their company.  I had managed this morning before Jeremy dashed
off to school to share Cody's idea for including Byron with the guys
after the game.  I knew Jeremy could bring it off.

While the varsity team was warming up, Miles and Ron visited back and
forth across Jim, but I was delighted when Jim began conversing with
them as Ron asked questions about the players.  In fact, at one point,
Jim dominated the conversation with information about the various
players from our school and the opposing team and the coaches.  Miles
and Ron listened attentively.  I was amazed:  Jim was a collector of
stats about players and teams.  He obviously followed our school sports
closely.  I hoped I'd get to know more about other dimensions that Jim
kept hidden.

While the three conversed, our school jocks were warming up at the goal
right in front of us.  I studied Troy and Cody closely.  I was
astonished that since I'd seen him yesterday morning, Cody had lost the
pageboy hairstyle in favor of a cut just like Jeremy's.  But Cody would
have been hot and hunky if his head were shaved. I wondered if Jeremy
had contributed anything to the change.  Then I wondered if it meant
that Jeremy and Cody were growing closer.  I hoped so.  I suddenly
perceived several key similarities shared by Jim Belton and Cody  -
both were markedly quiet, shielding their qualities from easy view.
Just the opposite of Troy and Jeremy.

Cody spotted me looking him over.  He smiled archly, giving me a little
wave as the ball was shooting toward his hands, then catching it easily
as though it had been created to rest in his hands.  How deft!  He'd
smoothly coordinated his eyes and hands engaged in two disparate tasks.
I suddenly realized that he had that svelte look that I had associated
with Tim and Jim Belton.  He was good to look at.  I wished the style
in sports gear would change so that those baggy trunks that reached to
the knees of basketball players would change to the shorter, tighter
trunks of a couple of decades previous.  Those earlier trunks clung to
the players' shapes instead of hiding them.  When jams became the style
in professional basketball, the popularity of the sport started
declining.  I knew there were other factors causing this shift, but
veiling the form of the player had something to do with it too.  After
all, the ancient Greek athletes always competed nude, spawning the
Olympic games.  I remembered LaKeisha's glowing description in class of
why she liked basketball - watching the men's bodies, watching them
battle on the floor.  Very Greek.

I realized that Troy was looking right at me and Ron - more than once.
He'd speak to a teammate, take a shot, rebound, then look at us.  Then
the pattern would repeat.  I waved at him after one rebound while he
was looking at us, but he didn't react.  Maybe he didn't see me.  I
repeated the behavior two more times, but he just stared.  Oh no.  I'd
been through this before with him - that time after I'd declared in
class that I'd never marry again, and then he'd told Susan that he
couldn't understand why I'd be so resolved about that matter.  Susan
had coached him into realizing that I was gay, prompting a homophobic
response from Troy. But he couldn't be behaving this way after all that
had happened between us, then with Cody, then with Jeremy and Kenny.
The thought of having to work through anything like that again left me
feeling down.  I quit looking at Troy.  I noted that Cody had seen what
had been going on between us.

I glanced at Ron, who was looking at me too.  I hadn't done anything
wrong! Why were these guys staring at me?  I squirmed.  I looked over
at the main doors, where I saw Susan standing with her coterie, but she
had caught on to what was going on too, for she was staring at me while
talking to the Jill Pennington, who was standing next to her.  She gave
me a little wave - at least I think I was meant to be the recipient of
the wave.  I gave a little wave back.

The buzzer sounded, calling the teams back to their coaches to prepare
for the match to begin.  Ron was visiting with Miles and Jim Belton,
who was sharing information about the referees officiating at this
particular game.  I smiled quietly. Jim really loved following the
team.  He was a storehouse of details on every facet of the sport.  I
bet he knew just as much about our football, track, and the women's
teams.

>From the beginning tip-off, the first half of the game was absorbing.
Not only were the teams closely matched in skills, but they jockeyed
back and forth in the lead.  I enjoyed studying Troy and Cody.  One
could see how attuned they were to each other.  If they looked more
alike, one might have thought them twins, so linked were they in their
play.  One always knew where the other intended to move next, to pass
the ball, to fake a pass or drive, shoot, or rebound.  Whether offense
or defense, they were a dynamic duo.  And they favored each other,
setting the other up to make points, capture a rebound, occasionally
steal the ball. They had to love playing together this way.  I'd be so
excited, knowing that I could play in sync with another player.  It
would mean that our minds and more were in sync too.  No wonder Troy
and Cody were sex buddies and considered themselves brothers.

Among the other players, Jim Marbury was good, but he wasn't linked to
any other player as were Troy and Cody.  In fact, Jim seemed a little
the lone wolf on the court.  Bill Waller and Pat Danton and the other
players on the team happily followed Troy and Cody's lead, forming a
team with them.  Even I could see that if Jim were not a good shooter,
he might not be a starter, for something was lacking between him and
the other players.  No animosity or anything like that, but no affinity
either.

During the first half, Miles, Jim and Ron had chatted up a storm.  I
sat happily listening to them, watching the plays, observing the
players, especially Troy and Cody.

By half time, the lead had changed hands so many times that the crowd
was keyed up, anxious for a trend to develop.  Miles, Jim, and Ron were
still deep in conversation, so I wandered off in search of a cup of
coffee.  Once in possession of that wondrous brew, I was leaning back
against a wall, watching people.  Susan tried to separate from her
group several times - to come visit with me, I thought, but each time
she was pulled back by one person or another.  Tony and Angela, who
were in another group, waved, as did I.  Kate Williams waved at me
while chatting with some parents, several of whom looked my way to see
who had caught Kate's eye.

"Ev-a-a-a-n!"  Ah-oh, I knew that voice.  I turned to my left:  "Hi
LaRonda."  I held out my hand to Clifton.  "Hi Clifton."

"Hey, Evan.  How ya' doin?"

"Fine."

"Mighty fine, I'd say," LaRonda commented, arching her eyebrows.  "I'll
admit it - you had me fooled.  I thought you were a ladies man.  But I
realized by the look on Ron's face and yours that you're a man's man."

I blushed, glancing quickly at Clifton.  "Baby, look what you've done.
You're making Evan uncomfortable saying this stuff."

"No need to go being embarrassed, Evan.  Clifton and I haven't changed
our feelings about you or Ron any more than we did with Jeremy and
Kenny.  You know we love them just as we love you.  I was just so happy
to see you and Ron together.  I heard about Mr. Belton's divorce, but
he looked just as happy as you with that other man.  Who is he anyway?"
Ah, I was learning the reason for our chat.

I shot a look at Clifton, who snickered.  I tried not to allow my
growing smile to erupt, but I couldn't control it.  I laughed right out
loud, causing others nearby to look our way.  I felt better that
Clifton joined me in hilarity.  The corners of LaRonda's mouth turned
down, highlighted by an exasperated look that said "Men!"

When I recovered, I replied, "The other man is Miles Forbisher, who is
also my attorney.  He's handling Jeremy's adoption."  I watched
LaRonda's mind working out all the permutations faster than a Pentium
III.

"You all looked like a nice little circle of friends.  I'm glad they're
there for you, Evan.  You've needed someone for you.  And they're lucky
to have you," she said as she put her arm in Clifton's and began
walking away.  "Be seein' ya," she said.

"So long, Evan," echoed Clifton, winking at me.

Ron, Miles and Jim wandered over to the concession area.  I had
finished my coffee, so I visited the men's room and returned to our
seats.  I'd no more than taken my seat when the buzzer sounded, calling
the teams back to the floor.  To my relief, Jeremy, Kenny, and Byron
strolled by, heading back toward the student section, with the former
two waving at me while Byron offered me a small smile. Good, at least
Byron could manage a smile.  It represented a warming in his
orientation to me.  Miles, Jim, and Ron made it to their seats just
before the tip- off.

The third quarter played much as the first half, but it was as though
motion had been speeded up by half that again of the first half.  The
ball was moving down the court constantly.  The players were working
hard; they began to gleam with sweat.  The score teeter-tottered as it
had in the first half because the teams were fairly evenly matched.  In
the face of the usual strategy, our Coach Hernandez began to substitute
a little to give the key players a rest so that they would have kick
for the end of the game.

By the end of the third quarter, the gym roared with the chatter of
excited fans. When the fourth quarter began, it was as though a dam had
burst.  I never saw a quarter run so pell-mell in the direction of the
final buzzer.  Watching the plays and jocks' movements was almost as
difficult as watching the puck in a wild hockey match.  The game moved
so fast that turnovers and fouls were frequent. Troy, Cody, and Jim
were fairly constantly making shots or driving in for a lay- up.
Rebounds were crucial.  This was a whale of a game!  There really
wasn't time to visit, and we fans were frequently brought to our feet
by the excitement of the play.

In the last minute of play, our school was down one point when the
other team began a stall.  Our side called a timeout.  After huddling
with Coach, our men took the floor, settling into the slower pace of
the stall.  The fans were restless. Some were yelling that our side
should foul in an attempt to capture the ball, but our players held
steady.  I guessed that Coach decided this team was just too good at
the foul line to adopt that conventional ploy for trying to regain
control of the ball.  Man!  What a game!  The fans were all standing,
their voices a roar.

In the last five seconds, Cody flashed in between two players, stealing
the ball and dribbling down the court.  I marveled at how fast the
opposing team moved down the floor to set up a defense.  Cody was not
going to be able to manage a lay-up even though he had started his
drive toward the basket.  But just as he hit the side of the circle
with three defenders closing in on him, he jumped and shot the ball off
to Troy, who was in the far corner of the court with no defenders
around.  He took the ball nimbly and rose off the floor for a three-
pointer.  A hush fell over the crowd as it watched the ball rise in a
beautiful arc.  So cleanly did it pass through the net that one heard
only the barest of whispers made by the ball passing through the cotton
strings.  Pandemonium broke loose.  Moans and groans from the losing
team.  Shouts and acclamations from our side.

I felt a muscular arm reach around me and pull me into Ron's side.
Coaches and fans spilled out onto the floor.  They mobbed Troy,
slapping him on the back and congratulating other players.  With some
difficulty, the team lifted Troy on their shoulders and began to give
him a victory walk.

I frowned.  Cody was standing on the baseline under the basket,
watching the proceedings, looking at Troy, who wasn't even noticing
him.  Ron leaned down, telling me that he had to go shake some hands.
He leapt down to the floor, moving off toward the team.  I was glad to
see that he made a beeline for Cody, clasping his hand and shaking it,
then giving him a hug, which Cody returned.  I noticed that Cody
started to step out of the hug at what would be considered the proper
moment, starting to drop his arms from around Ron, but Ron held him
tightly.  So Cody raised his arms and hugged back.  Then Ron pulled
back smiling and speaking to Cody.  Smiling in return, Cody responded.
Then Ron turned and headed toward Coach Hernandez.  He grabbed his
hand, shaking it and clapping Dave Hernandez on the back while speaking
to him.  Then he headed for Troy. Cody stood there a bit longer, then
turned and headed for the locker room with his head down.  I moved down
to the floor and followed him.

When I reached the locker room doors, Cody wasn't in sight.  I walked
inside, immediately feeling the damp atmosphere, punctuated with
pockets of various smells throughout the big space, recalling my days
in locker rooms.  I wandered around the rows of lockers.  As I rounded
the end of one row, I saw him sitting on a bench between the lockers,
elbows on knees, head in his hands.  He was so sweaty that his hair was
plastered to his head.  He'd worked hard for that victory. He was not
just physically exhausted, but he was disappointed too.

I walked over, placing my hand on his shoulder.  "Cody,
congratulations!  That was a great winning play.  Thank you for using
your skill to put us over the top."

He sat up, turning toward me.  I reached down, grasping his sweaty hand
and shaking it.  "I'm proud to know you for many reasons, but I'm
especially proud to have seen the warrior side of you tonight."

A grin slowly spread across his face.  He stood, throwing his arms
around me and pulling me to him.  He hugged me tightly.  I
reciprocated, loving his smell. "Thanks, Evan.  You don't know how much
your coming to find me means to me."  We just stood like that for
nearly a minute.  Finally, a couple of third- stringers opened the
outer door, so Cody stepped back.

I cocked my head to one side.  "Are you okay?  Do you need me to get
anything for you?"

He gave me a small smile.  "I'm okay.  I better shower.  Jeremy and
Kenny have Byron with them, and we're taking him out with us for what
will become a little victory celebration."

"Cody, I really appreciate you guys helping Byron like that.  You're a
real champion in more ways than one this evening.  Maybe I'll see you
at school tomorrow."  We waved good-bye to each other.

When I returned to the gym floor, I saw Miles and Jim walking out into
the lobby. Ron was standing, waiting to talk to Troy, who was
surrounded by a throng, watching him being interviewed by local TV
sports reporters.  I frowned - Cody's contribution had been eclipsed.
I spotted Susan standing at the side of the mob; she wasn't smiling
either.  I knew she was feeling just what I was - Cody should be there
with Troy, so why wasn't Troy taking his usual leadership posture by
seeing that Cody was standing right there beside him.  Weren't they
brothers, after all?  I walked around the court and out the way Miles
and Jim had gone, deciding to wait for Ron in the lobby.  Miles and Jim
were nowhere in sight, so I wandered around the lobby, looking at the
trophy cases, musing what hollow and fickle mistresses Fate and Victory
are.

Something wasn't right with Troy.  Allowing the focus to fall
exclusively on him just wasn't his style.  At any other time, he'd have
grabbed Cody and kept him at his side, seeing that he received his due,
seeing to it that reporters included Cody in Troy's interviews.  I knew
I wasn't off the mark as I stood back, looking through the gym doors,
studying my point of reference - Susan was still standing apart,
frowning.  I sensed that she hadn't talked to Troy, and he hadn't
acknowledged her presence.  Not customary for Troy.  All this boded
ill.

I stepped outside into the bracing winter air, breathing deeply.  It
was colder than when we'd arrived at the game.  Finally, Ron came out.
"Let's go get some coffee.  Shall we go to a restaurant or your place?"

"As late as it is and with school tomorrow, let's go to my place.  Save
some time."

As we drove to my home, he exclaimed, "Hey, I enjoyed this evening.
Miles and Jim are great guys."

"I heard more come out of Jim Belton's mouth tonight than in all the
years that I've taught at the school.  I'm embarrassed to admit it, but
I didn't know Jim was such a fan of our school's sports.  It was nice
to discover that.  I'm not certain why he was so voluble tonight, but
he wouldn't have been that way if he hadn't felt comfortable around
Miles and you."

"So are Miles and Jim a couple?"

"I don't know.  They've just discovered each other.  Jim is divorcing,
so he asked me for the name of an attorney.  He was worried about
losing his farm in the settlement.  I referred him to Miles, who is my
attorney.  Jim wasted no time in calling and setting up an appointment.
Then Jim invited Miles out to his farm this last Saturday.  Looks to me
like they connected as more than just attorney-client."

"My impression too.  We should all go out together some evening."
Nothing was said for a block or two.  Then Ron asked me to fill him in
on Miles and then Jim, so I did.  By the time I'd finished, we were
driving in my driveway.

"Where's Jeremy?" he asked as we settled in the family room after I
started the coffeemaker.

"Out with the guys for an after-game celebration.  Melanie Simpson
dumped Byron Okata for Jim Marbury, so they were going to include Byron
with them to try to support him."

"Jim Marbury, the basketball player?"

"The same.  By the way, did you get to speak to Troy?"

"Nah, he was still tied up with those sports reporters.  But I waved at
him, and he gave me the high sign that he knew what I wanted to say.
I'll catch him in class tomorrow.  Are you and Troy close?" Ron asked.

"We have been."

"Have you two been to bed together?"

I looked over at him, trying to discern the intent of that question.
"A couple of times."

"Cody with Troy?"

"Many times.  They consider themselves brothers."

"With you?"

"Cody?  A couple of times.  Each time they initiated it.  Well, the
first time with Troy, he and Susan decided it needed to happen."

"There's a story there.  Will I ever get to hear it?"

"If you roar loudly enough," I smiled, as did he.  Or maybe that
weekend when you lock me into your love lair."  I arose to bring
back our coffee.

After I'd settled on the sofa with him, Ron asked, "So what do you
think was going on with Troy tonight when you were waving at him but he
was snubbing you?"

"Oh . . . I didn't think you caught that.  I don't know.  I thought it
was something having to do only with me, but Troy's behavior after the
winning basket makes me think it's something else."

"What behavior is that?"

I looked at him disbelievingly.  "He wouldn't have made that winning
shot if Cody hadn't stolen the ball, moved it down the court, and
passed it off to Troy. Yet Troy not only was given but also accepted
all the credit.  That's not the Troy Morgan I've observed this year.
The new Troy Morgan would have rushed over to Cody and hugged him to
share the victory and to acknowledge Cody's part in it. Even Cody was
surprised that Troy failed to behave in his usual manner."

"Troy was immediately mobbed by fans."

"He would have gone after Cody and brought him back and told the
reporters that he wouldn't do any interviews unless Cody was included.
And if the reporters ignored Cody, Troy would have brought him into the
interview.  The real Troy would have signaled Susan that her reaction
to his shot was important to him and that he wanted to share his
victory with her.  Didn't happen."

"But isn't this just the breaks of the game.  It's whoever has the ball
last who gets the credit?"

"In a world of knuckleheads, it may work that way.  But that doesn't
make it right."

"Ouch.  I've been wounded," he exclaimed as he held his arms over his
stomach and flopped over into my lap as though he had been gut-punched.

"And what you just described is what can reduce the productivity of a
team. Troy's behavior was not team oriented.  He didn't win that
ballgame.  The entire team did.  I noticed you congratulated Coach
Henderson.  He didn't touch that ball last night, and he certainly was
not playing on the court.  But I'll bet you congratulated him for
winning the game."

"Yeah, but he's the coach.  He chose the strategies that guided the
team."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa.  You said whoever touched the ball last got the
credit for winning the game.  Coach never touched the ball.  You're
condemned out of your own mouth.  And why?  Because the principle by
which you were arguing is unsound and sloppy.  Hence, it tripped you
up."  I smiled largely.

I heard a growl.  He grabbed me around the waist, arose nimbly, threw
me over his shoulder, and carried me off to my bedroom.  I was laughing
so hard I could hardly breathe.  The man was ruthless, punishing me
into pleasure and torturing me into bliss.

                             *     *     *

It wasn't until Wednesday night when  Jeremy returned home after work
that he and I crossed paths.  I was in the sunroom reading a mystery
and enjoying a glass of wine.  Jeremy came in, took the wine goblet
from my hand and set it down. Then he pushed me flat on the sofa and
flopped on top of me.  I emitted an "Umph-ph-ph-ph.  He popped off,
"Pay-back time for all the times you've jumped on me."  He hugged me
before delivering a soulful kiss.  I reciprocated.

"Hey," I started.  "Are you responsible for Cody's new hairstyle?"

"Yeah.  He asked me who cut my hair, so I told him about Rafe and gave
him Rafe's phone number.  Don't you like it?"

"Yes.  Like you, Cody looks great with it."

Nothing was said for about 15 seconds.  "Why are you mad at me?" he
asked quietly.  "It's got something to with my getting it on with my
lover and brothers."

"I'm not mad at you."

"You've been putting out negative vibes since Susan told you about us."

"How do you know Susan told me anything?"

"Troy asked her when I told Troy what you said Friday night."

"Why'd you tell Troy anything at all?"

"He's my brother, Dad," he answered in a slightly impatient voice.
"What's causing those negative vibes?  What're you feeling?"

I paused before answering.  "I'm feeling that . . . ."  My voice just
ran out as I tried to identify what me feelings were.  I just hadn't
had time to analyze the matter.

"You started to answer me, then you backed off."

"I'm confused."

"What about?"

"Several things, I guess.  Maybe I can start by asking why Troy is
"off-line" with me?"

"Is he?"

"I waved at him three times while he was warming up before the game
last night. He was staring right at me, but he wouldn't acknowledge me.
Cody waved back, but not Troy."

"Ya want me to beat him up for ya?" he joked.  I looked away, frowning.
He finally explained, "I haven't really talked to Troy lately, not even
at the movie Friday night.  And I didn't see him after the ball game
last night."

"I thought Cody was there with you guys."

"He was."

"But Troy wasn't?"

"No."

"I wonder where he was.  I thought you all went out together after a
game."

"We usually do.  But he didn't show.  Susan didn't either.  Maybe they
needed some time together."

"Do you think Troy was angry with Susan for telling me about you guys."

"Troy angry with Susan?  I can't imagine it.  Besides, you know Susan -
Troy could be as angry as he wanted but she wouldn't budge from her
position.  Let's see - do we know anyone else who's that stubborn who
also occupies Susan's wave length?  I don't know-w-w-w-w-w."  I swatted
his ass.

"Ou-u-u-u-u.  Spanking.  Kinky.  Do it again."

"Would you cut that out?"

"Do you want me to find out what's going on with Troy in relation to
you?"

"No."

"Why not?

"I'm a big boy.  I'll take care of it.

Silence ensued for a bit as we felt our breathing synchronize.  "Are
you put out that I referred to Troy and Cody as my brothers?"

"Of course not.  I know how important and exciting that kind of
relationship could be for you.  I'm happy you found a couple of guys
who are open to it.  They're special guys.  How could I be unhappy that
you found them and they you?"

"But something about it upset you."

I chewed on my lip.  "I really haven't had time to analyze it or to set
my subconscious to work on it."  I thought some.  "I know this much:  I
felt left out, left behind."  I paused a moment.  "Before you came to
live here, late at night on the weekends, I'd think about all the guys
who were making love right then.  I didn't want to think about them,
but I couldn't help it because I was so lonely.  I felt that I was
losing out, that they had something I'd never have.  Time was running
on.  Then Tim came along, so I told myself I'd never feel that way
again. When he dumped me, those feelings came back even worse.  I don't
know why that happens."

"What?"

"Something bad happens.  Then you think you've transcended it; then it
comes back.  But in the return, it's worse in degree than it was the
first time."

We were silent.  "I guess embarrassment, shame, or guilt amplify that
feeling," I added.

"Why those feelings?"

"Because deep down we think we did something wrong; that got us back in
that fix again."

"You didn't do anything wrong with Tim."

"I know.  I'll have to think more about it."

More silence.  "But Ron had shown up by the time we four guys got
together for sex.  So you had reasons to be feeling good."

"I wouldn't allow myself to believe that what happened Friday night
would ever transpire.  But the more important point is that I feel deep
love for you four guys, so I felt those old disappointments and fears
more strongly.  There was no way I could persuade myself that I hadn't
been shut out."

"Now that you know how Ron feels about you, do you still feel that
way?"

"I'm ashamed to say that I do.  Makes me sound like a dirty old man
because I was cut out of some hot sex."

A mischievous grin seized his face.  "I could comment extensively on
your comment about being a dirty old man, but in the interest of
dealing with this issue, I'll let it pass.  Just remember that you got
off easy this time.  How do you know it was hot sex?"

I gave him a withering look.  "Please!"

I studied him, tussling with my feelings for those four guys.

He embraced me.  "Come on, Dad.  You aren't even going to let me get a
rise out of you?"

I pulled him tighter against me.

"I don't have any easy answers for you, Dad.  I don't know what to say.
But I hope you know if I could chase away your fears, I'd do it.  You
are special to each of us.  We weren't shutting you out.  We've all had
sex with you.  We all liked it. We've talked about that.  Shutting you
out just wouldn't happen.  We all love you. I guess you just have to
trust us on that."

I said nothing, evoking a slight frown from him, which he immediately
checked.

"Dad, why did Ron make me a lion but you a cub?"

I thought for a bit.  "Perhaps the correct way to put it is that Ron
didn't make us anything.  He was recognizing qualities in us and
announcing what those qualities made us - rather as Kenny does when he
draws someone.  He looks deep within and then sketches what he sees.
He's not putting anything in the sketch that isn't already inside the
person.  That's what Ron was doing.  And in naming us, he acknowledged
what we are for each other."

More thought.  "Each role is the most comfortable place for that
individual.  It's the spiritual place where we are who we are.  It's
not a position; it's a space where we get to be purely who we are.  I'm
delighted that you are a Lion. You are strong, and you are growing in
wisdom.  You have a big, strong heart.  As for Kenny and me, we want to
be dominated by men, not stupidly or cruelly.  We just want to belong
to a good man - men like you and Ron - Lions!  Ron knows that about
us."

He was studying me, mulling my words, so I continued.  "Society says
you are locked in one position or the other.  If you are seen to
hesitate or be doubtful, you are thought weak.  But in our Pride, it's
not about who's on top or who's on the bottom, a power issue," I
explained; "it's the dynamic of the need to receive, which is equal the
need to provide.  Most people waste so much energy having to separate
the needing and the providing, having been taught that we must separate
the two.  Ron showed you that you can be comfortable in both roles.

"Ron sees something in me that is like something in him?"

"Yes."

"Would he think Troy is a Lion?"

"I would assume so.  You and Troy are much alike."

He grinned devilishly:  "Is Ron going to be my second dad?"

I smiled before answering:  "I guess that's up to him and you.  Is that
what you want?"

"I'd like it.  When he made love to me - conquered me, actually, I felt
myself become part of him, and he became part of me.  I can't explain
it, but it was real. Kenny told me he felt it too."

"Ron and you will have to discuss your question together at some point,
for it's not only central to your own identities but to your
relationship.  You may want to plan to do that soon."

"Do you want to be there?"

"It really needs to be just you and Ron.  No Kenny.  No Evan.  Just you
two.  It will set the foundation on which you two will build a
relationship.  I believe it will also greatly influence the power of
the Pride."

"If I'm so wise, why couldn't I give you any answers this evening about
your fears."

"Hard questions about deep matters do not admit to easy, quick answers
that are at all genuine.  A wise man acknowledges that as you did just
now.  Wise men aren't wise because they have all the answers.  They'll
probably tell you that they have none, but they may nudge you in the
direction of an appropriate answer.  They'll never have all the
answers.  They first have to understand the questions. Everything else
flows from that point.  Wise men are good at identifying, understanding
and articulating the questions at the proper time in the proper place."

A devilish grin filled Jeremy's face.  "What if Ron and I have sex
again when we're alone?"

"It won't bother me - as long as it's good sex," I said.  "As your
father, I forbid you to have any bad sex."  He dug his fingers into my
ribs, making me squirm and laugh.

We lay in companionable silence, with Jeremy resting on top of me.  His
head jerked once.  "Dad, I've got to sleep. I'm bushed."  After we
arose, Jeremy walked me to my bedroom, pausing to kiss me sweetly.  It
wasn't just a filial kiss. It communicated more.  The kiss of a young
Lion perhaps.

(To be continued.)


Hey Readers,

The ideas about roles in the Pride were ably contributed by the Cub.

More time was required to complete this chapter than I wished.  On-the-
job travel every week, both in the state and to the coast, major
deadlines at work, the creation of five new workshops almost
simultaneously, securing and being broken in by a new computer (MAJOR
headache), and income tax (groan) overwhelmed my muse.  I'll try to do
better, but I have some heavy periods of travel ahead, not just in my
home state but in other states and to the other coast as well.  Don't
give up.  I'm not.  I could hardly finish this chapter for jumping into
the next to add scenes and dialogue that my subconscious was
delivering, so a good start on that chapter already exists.

Evan