Date: Thu, 15 Jun 2006 00:51:54 +0000
From: rich h <palouse1@hotmail.com>
Subject: Seal Rocks Part 11

Here's the latest installment - as always, comments, suggestions,
not-too-vicious critiques etc are welcomed and craved.  All rights are
reserved, and this is faction, people, so chill.

                      Seal Rocks Pt. 11

Jesse was discharged the next morning, after still more
prodding and following fingers with his eyes and assorted
annoying tests.  Mike and his mother were there for the
occasion, which made the process more cheerful.  "Mike even
picked out your wardrobe for the day," Jesse's mother cooed
as she produced a pair of cargo shorts, his rainbows, and a
Stussy T-shirt from a small duffel bag.  "Oh," she added,
blushing a little, "and these."  She held up a pair of
undersized boxer briefs.  "I think it's a joke, to see if
you can fit into them."

     Behind her, Mike grinned evilly at Jesse.

     "Thanks, Mom," Jesse said in an even voice. "Guess I
have to wear them for now - I can't very well go home with
no underwear on, can I?"  They all had a giggle over that as
Jesse padded into the bathroom to change.

    The shower felt wonderful, refreshing and warm. He had
been warned not to close his eyes for too long when upright,
in case he got dizzy, but he found no problem while soaping
his hair and face. His only woozy moment came when he turned
too quickly to step out of the stall after he was done. He
wavered, and banged into the plastic side wall loudly.

    Mike was beside him in an instant.  "You OK, bud?" Jesse
blinked a couple of times hard, trying to clear his
head - he knew shaking it would hurt.  "Ya.  Sorta lost it
there for a second."

Mike put an arm around his waist and helped him step
out onto the bathroom floor.  He pulled a towel
off the rack. "Hold on to the sink, Jes."

    "Dude, I can dry myself."

    "Do it.  Now."

    Jesse obeyed, quietly grateful that he wouldn't fall
over or anything.  Mike dried him all over, carefully, with
only occasional teasing comments or gropes.  He was,
however, especially slow in drying Jesse's genitals, which
of course quickly got Jesse half hard.  "C'mon, dude, this
is humiliating enough," Jesse half complained, looking over
his shoulder at Mike kneeling behind him.
     Mike smiled, leaned quickly forward, and kissed the
side of Jesse's right buttock. "Can't help it, dude.  Got a
surprise for you later, too."

     "Ya?  What is it?"

Mike stood up and gently turned Jesse around, pushing
him back against the sink to brace him as he toweled his
hair.  "You'll see.  Hope it's cool with you."

    Jesse grinned back, feeling better.  "Course it'll be.
You'll be there, right?  My booty call and all that shit?"

    Mike smiled and ran a hand across Jesse's cheek.
"Always."  They kissed carefully. "Y'know," Mike said as he
pulled back a bit, "the bruises under your eyes are going
away already.  And the stitches look pretty clean, too.
You'll be back by next weekend."

   "Yeah, but my tongue still feels really weird like it's
got this huge raw burned part to it."

    "When will you be on solid food again?"
     "Soon, I hope.  This nutritious shake crap is soooo
gross."

    "Yeah, but look at how tight you look," Mike said,
running his hands down Jesses flanks. Jesse's eyes closed
involuntarily; he felt himself thicken again.

    "Dude, we can't - not now.  Both our moms are out
there."  He was hardening by the second, and Mike was
grinning at him, playing his hands over his bare body,
enjoying both the feeling and the reaction he was causing.

      Mike knelt and quickly took Jesse into his mouth for a
moment, savoring the clean taste, then stood back up.
"You're right, later."
     Jesse was trying to catch his breath.  "That is so
unfair, Mike!"

     Mike grinned and threw him the boxer briefs.  "Get all
dressed now, baby boy."  Jesse was surprised at how well
they fit on him; aside from the embarrassing bulge his
erection made, they felt fairly good.  "I must have lost
weight," he muttered, looking at himself in the bathroom
mirror and contemplating how prominent his cheekbones
suddenly were.

      Mike smiled softly.  "Ya, you kinda look starved right
now.  We'll fix that quick."

    "We?"

    Mike's smile broadened.  "You'll see."

    The t-shirt and cargos hung loosely on him,
confirming Jesse's impression about his weight loss.  He
examined himself in the mirror once fully dressed.  "I look
like I'm back in 8th grade or something, all pencilly."  He
grinned into the mirror at Mike.  "But at least all the
looseness hides my cock."

    "Maybe you like that, but I'm kinda disappointed."  Mike
stepped to him and fondled. "Though I do know where it is in
there."

Jesse pulled away, smiling.  "Ya, I guess.  I'm gonna
get you big time, y'know, and soon."

    Mike laughed.  "Promise?"  And, laughing, they stepped
out of the bathroom, back into the waiting ministrations of
parents, doctors, and nurses.

   Dr. Stassi was waiting, standing next to their mothers.
They seemed to have been having a conversation until the
boys emerged, but quickly stepped back and smiled.  "Looking
a lot better, Jesse," Dr. Stassi said, looking with a
professional eye at the stitches across the bridge of
Jesse's nose. He motioned for Jesse to open his mouth.
"That's healing well, too," he said in a satisfied tone of
voice.  "Keep using that antiseptic mouthwash and we'll look
at it again in a couple of days. We'll have you eating tacos
again in no time."
    Jesse smiled wistfully.  "God I'd love a taco."
    "Don't worry, Jesse," Mike's mother said.
    "We've got a load of good meals for you, things you can
eat without hurting yourself.  I'm a devil with a blender,
you know."
     Jesse smiled.  "Yeah, but Mom always said that was
making margaritas."  Why was she offering him food?

      Mike's mom giggled.  "You'll have to wait a few years
yet to find that out."
    Carlotta appeared with a wheelchair.  "Time to go, young
man.  We need to get some sick people in here."
    "Thanks, Carlotta.  For everything."
    Carlotta's hand ran softly over the back of his head as
she smiled down at him from behind the chair.  "You'll be
fine, Jesse.  All set for a ride?"
    Jesse nodded, and they rolled out to the elevators,
waving and calling thanks to the various other attendants
along the way.
    The lobby was much more sunny then the ward had been;
Jesse's eyes stung.  His mother leaned over and handed him
his Panama Jacks.  "Here, they said the light might be
bright for you at first."
     There seemed to be a crowd near the door.  As they
approached, Jesse realized that literally dozens of his
friends from school, surfing buddies, and church group
members, had all gathered there.  Both Boynton brothers were
there, the DeVries twins, Mitch Huff, Chase Johnson from
church, so many people. Erick was in the lead, looking
sheepish, and gave him a huge hug as they got to the group.
"How you doing, dude?"
    Erick's hair smelled apple-ey, sweet.  His body was
firm, and his lips pressed momentarily against Jesse's neck.
Jesse began to stand, but Carlotta was firm.  "Not until
you're at the curb."
    "OK," he muttered.  "Guys, let me get to the curb and I
can say hi, OK?"  He suddenly felt a rush of emotion that so
many people had gathered to see him.  His mother looked wet
eyed.
    Ben was waiting at their SUV, leaning on the front
fender.  He had on his usual home attire - boardshorts,
flaps and a Rocky's shirt.  It looked odd to see him like
that but in a military short haircut.  The crowd quickly
fell back to join him as Jesse was wheeled into the
sunlight.  Even with the glasses on, his eyes hurt a little,
but the warm rays were soothing and reviving.  They got to
the car door, and Carlotta said, "Last stop."  He rose
slowly, wondering if it'd feel different standing out here
in the open.  To his relief, he felt fine.  Carlotta
whispered, "Good luck, son," and moved away.  Almost at
once, Jesse felt like he was in the center of a mosh pit
Guys and girls crowding around him, talking, hugging,
kissing his cheek (well, the girls at least), rubbing his
back.  They were all openly happy, but at the same time
careful, reserved in their movements as if he were fragile.
Kate held him for a long moment, her eyes damp, but smiling
secretly at him.  He saw Ben with an ear splitting grin over
her shoulder.  They all offered him a chance to get together
"real soon," lunch, dinner, a road trip to Cardiff to surf
the break there, phone numbers, anything it seemed. Jesse
felt his throat tighten.  He had no idea.

    "People," he finally called out.  "Folks.  I - I don'
know how - I mean - I - Look, this is really cool of all of
you," he stammered.  "Thanks."  What else to say . . .  "We
gotta, like, get together or somethin', real soon.  I'm
gonna be kind of laid out for another few days, but we'll
definitely get together, OK?  Stop on by, you know the
place."  His voice was thickening, he fought not to cry.
"This all - this means a lot, OK?"  He waved weakly and slid
into the SUV.  As soon as he closed the door, behind the
tinted glass and invisible from the outside, he buried his
face in his hands. Mike and Ben sat quietly on either side
to him, rubbing his back.

    They passed the exit for Jesse's house without stopping.
"What's going on?"

    Jesse's mother turned to look at him.  "Jesse, the house
- it's still sort of a mess.  I need - to get it cleaned up
and everything.  So Mike's family has offered to let you
stay there for a few days, until we're back to normal up
there.  Is that all right?"

    Jesse glanced at Mike, who was vainly suppressing a
grin.  "Of - of course.  Yeah.  That's cool.  That'll be
good."

    Jesse's mother smiled, relieved.  "Wonderful.  It's just
for a few days, baby, don't worry.  And Mike has promised to
stay at home with you and make sure you're OK and help you
out."

     "Least I can do," Mike said with a magnanimous air,
still unable to hide his eager smile.

     Jesse looked at him and couldn't keep from bursting our
laughing.  "Ya, I bet he'll take care of me!!"

    "Now no horseplay, you two - this is serious," Mike's
mother scolded from the driver's seat.  "You need to rest
still, Jesse.  We'll cook for your mom and Ben and you every
night, so you'll have family dinners, and it'll be just like
a mini-vacation."

    "Thanks," Jesse said, and he meant it.  The thought of
going home had been a mixed one for him.  This not only put
it off a bit, but set him up with Mike.  It was perfect.  "I
really appreciate this."

    Jesse's mother reached back and stroked his cheek,
smiling softly.  "It's going to be OK, baby," she whispered,
her eyes moistening.

    Jesse rubbed the back of her hand with his.  "I know,
Mom.  It's all gonna be fine."

    He was relieved to get to Mike's house; the car ride had
made him slightly nauseous.  The beach air was cool on his
face, and the trees around the house softened the sunlight
as he walked in, half wanting to just sit down there on the
front yard and enjoy the day.  The mothers, however, bustled
him back into Mike's room, demanding that he lie on Mike's
bed.  Mike, they pointed out, had a fold-up cot he'd use at
night to stay in the room with him in case he needed
anything.  The two boys suppressed grins again; Ben shook
his head.  "OK, honey," his mother finally said, after he
drank a large smoothie she'd made that was the first really
filling meal he'd had in days, "Ben and I have to go.  You
sleep.  There's a memorial tonight at 7, and I'd like you to
be there.  Are you going to be up for that?"

    Jesse nodded.  "Of course, Mom.  I can't miss that."

   His mother nodded back grimly.  "Good.  All right, you
take it easy.  Mike don't you let him run around, he needs
to be quiet."
    "No problem, Mrs. S.  I'll take care of him, all right."
They all had a small laugh at the comment (and their
differing interpretations of it) as the adults left.
   Mike followed them out to be sure they were gone, then
returned and closed the bedroom door.  "Gotcha.  Mine at
last."
    Jesse propped himself on his elbows, laughing.  "Hey,
I'm supposed to be resting here!"

   Mike sat on the edge of the bed.  "Seriously, you OK?"

   Jesse smiled at him.  "Perfect."  He pulled Mike's head
toward his, and they kissed.  Jesse hesitantly opened his
mouth to Mike, and their tongues gently met.  Their arms
slid about each other, and Jesse lay back beneath Mike.
They felt each other's growing hardness, and fought the urge
to go at each other with abandon.

    Mike finally broke the kiss, gasping.  "Oh shit, Jes,
it's all I can do - "

      "I know."  He pushed Mike's hair back up off his
forehead.  "Do me a favor and strip, OK?"

     Mike smiled a moment.  "You sure it's OK and all?"

    "I'll tell you if I need to stop."

   Mike stood up and complied quickly.  Jesse sat up enough
to slide out of his t-shirt, and took a few seconds to look
at Mike's naked body.  It was like he'd never seen it
before, even though it had been, what - three days?  Four?
He was smooth, long in every good way, beautiful.  Jesse
reached out and touched his side.  "Wow."

    Mike leaned over and undid Jesse's shorts, pulling them
down slowly.  Jesse sighed as he felt the cool air flow over
his naked body; his cock twitched eagerly.  "Wow yourself,"
Mike said, sliding onto the bed alongside Jesse and pulling
him into an embrace.  Their hips began moving against each
other as they resumed their kiss, their bellies slowly
becoming slick from their leakage.  Jesse clutched at Mike
tightly, feeling instinctively that this was the one thing
he could truly hold on to, and whimpered as Mike moved over
him, kissing and giving him pleasure.
By the time Mike had slid down to his crotch, Jesse knew
what he wanted.  He opened his legs and lifted them up.

     "Fuck me, Mike.  I want to be all yours right now."

     Mike looked up from where he was poised to lick Jesse's
erection. "You sure?  I don't want you to get hurt or
anything.  Will the doctors see it again?"
    "I - I don't think so.  Fuck that.  I - I just need
this, OK? Please?"  He had felt so defenseless and scared,
he wanted to feel that here, with Mike, being defenseless,
surrendering, was a comfort, a pleasure, a delight.  He
realized vaguely how beggingly he was looking upwards.
Mike ran a hand over Jesse's stomach, nuzzling in his pubic
hair.

    "Course, dude.  You know I love that.  Just tell me if
you need to stop, OK? I do have some responsibilities here,
y'know," he added with a smirk.

     "Ya, well fulfill this one dammit!" Jesse giggled.

    Mike pulled open his bedside table drawer.  He had a
small vial of KY inside ("Dude, where'd that come from?"
"You want Coppertone instead?"  "Well, it's kind of a
tradition . . ."  and the giggles grew louder).  Jesse
shrank from the touch of the cold liquid in his crack, then
breathed in deeply as Mike started probing the fluid into
him with a finger.  He lightly grabbed Mike's perfect
shoulder.  "Oh, damn."

    Mike shot him a smiling glance.  "OK?"  Jesse nodded,
trying to lift himself up more, to open himself to the
penetration.

    "Ya, I'm fine.  Guess it's perverted or something, but I
want it real bad."

    "It's not perverted, Jes," Mike said as he climbed onto
the bed between Jesse's legs.  He rested Jesse's ankles on
his shoulders. "It's pretty cool, I think."  He moved closer
to Jesse.  "OK?"

    Jesse nodded and closed his eyes.  He felt Mike's hand
on his buttock, then the back of his other hand, holding his
cock as he positioned himself.  That hand left, and the
cockhead slowly pushed forward - up, down. Up again, then on
target.  Jesse inhaled sharply as Mike started to descend
into him, slowly, gently, the pain of entry clearing quicker
now.  His hands ran up Jesse's sides and he grunted raggedly
as their bodies came into closer contact.  Jesse lifted his
hips to Mike, a soft smile on his lips.  "Oh, yeah," he
whispered.

    Mike began moving inside him, again slowly, bending over
to kiss Jesse and press their chests briefly together.
Jesse's hands ran over Mike's shoulder and arms, onto his
chest to play with his nipples, down over his belly to the
pubic hair where they lay connected.  He felt Mike's shaft
as it slid in and out of him, slick, steely hard, massive.
He held on to Mike's smooth buttocks, feeling the muscles
flex and relax with his movements.  Mike thrust harder, and
Jesse's arms fell outward.  He was utterly at Mike's mercy,
utterly defenseless, utterly possessed.  He had never felt
so secure.  "Oh God, Mike.  Oh God."
    Mike was moving faster now, groaning, whispering so
softly Jesse couldn't make out what he said.  His hands held
Jesse's shoulders as he took possession, his whole body
trembling from the effort and the sensations.  Jesse felt
his uneven breathing, his sighs and groans. Mike's cock
seemed to get bigger inside him, deeper into him, with every
stroke. His testicles were hitting Jesse's buttocks lightly
now on the inward drive, and he would hold himself inside,
fully penetrated, and grind in an effort to go even deeper.
Jesse realized he was crying out loud now, and he didn't
care.  He belonged here, he belonged to Mike, if just for
these few moments of touching and moaning and fucking and
clenching and their bodies moved like pistons against each
other now, both noisily rising to their climaxes until Mike
stiffened his entire body, clutched at Jesse and began
pumping his orgasm deep into him, Jesse's cock feeling the
spasms in Mike's stomach and erupting between them, and they
cried out and made guttural noises until they were emptied
and exhausted and fell limply into each other's arms.
   Mike slowly rolled them onto their sides, still
intertwined and connected.  "You - OK?"  he gasped between
ragged gulps of air.
   "Fine."  Jesse could think of nothing else to say.  He
kissed Mike's collarbone, breathed in his scent.  "I'm
fine."  He slowly extended his left, upper, leg straight and
wrapped it around Mike.  Maybe they could stay there
forever.  Mike moved inside him again slowly and Jesse
groaned, his head lolling back.  "Oh God Mike, you're still
going?"
    Mike giggled softly.  "I think I could, actually, but
this feels so good."

    "You want to?"

    "What - keep going?"  Mike sighed.  "Maybe, in a bit.
You?"

    "Up to you, dude.  I - I think I could stay like this
forever."

     Mike looked at Jesse and kissed his lips for a long
minute.  Jesse felt Mike lengthen again inside him and
groaned. "Can' believe it," Jesse breathed as they broke
their kiss and Mike rolled him back beneath him.

   This time they were much slower, gentler.  They touched
and kissed constantly.  Mike seemed to go everywhere on
Jesse's body kissing his toes, running tongue and lips over
his calves, almost tickling as he brushed his flanks. For
his part, Jesse feasted on Mike's body, feeling the moves of
every muscle he could find, but always coming back to the
erection impaling him.  It felt so comfortable, so
essential, inside him, the physical pleasure he got from it
almost was secondary for a while.

     Mike was whispering to him again, and this time he
could hear.  "Oh shit, Jes."

    "Good?"

    "So good.  So good.  Aw dude, this - I - I wanna stay
like this."
    "Me too."  They smiled at each other, and for awhile
their kissing precluded more talk.

    A hard thrust from Mike finally brought Jesse up for
air, gasping aloud.  "Fuck, Mike, aw fuck yeah.""I wanna go
Jes, I gotta go here, it's too good."
     "I know.  Do it.  Real hard.  Aw yeah, like that, real
deep.  Oh shit.  Mike.  Oh, Mike."  And up the long
trembling slope they went again, bursting open like stars;
they both couldn't believe it possible to come again so
hard.
      They slept after that, tangled together, slightly
smelly, blissed out beyond words.

    Jesse finally stirred, reached to the bedside table and
opened his cell to check the time.  Almost 3:30.  "Dude," he
whispered, "we better get cleaned up and make it look
respectable, it's late."

   Mike moaned and pressed his face deeper into the crook
of Jesse's neck.  "Wan' stay," he protested feebly.

    Jesse rolled slowly away.  "We can't Mike.  We got all
night though, right?"  He stood carefully, feeling the blood
pound in his head for a moment, but he didn't get dizzy.  As
he padded off toward the bathroom, Mike chucked a pillow
halfheartedly at him.

   Jesse managed to keep from getting dizzy this time in the
shower. The water felt even better than in his morning one.
As he rinsed his hair, he heard Mike pissing in the
toilet, and peeked out.  The poor guy looked like a train
wreck - hair tangled, cheeks flushed, powdery semen residue
on his belly and clotting his pubic hair.  Jesse giggled
until Mike gestured as if to piss on him, which prompted him
to close the shower curtain quickly.  He left the water on
when he was done and just stepped out, dripping.  "Your
turn."

  Mike smiled and ran a hand over Jesse's side.  "You OK?"

   Jesse felt himself blush, and couldn't help giggling. "Oh
hell ya," he breathed, leaning into Mike.  He smelled good
like this - a little sweaty, acrid with their sex. "Mmmm, on
the other hand, don' shower, I like this."

  Mike laughed and pulled him into an embrace.  "Pervert."

   "You bet."

    Mike gave Jesse a last squeeze and stepped though the
shower curtain, humming softly to himself.

   They were just about dressed when they heard the
doorbell.  Mike ran from the room to answer it, while Jesse
sat on the bed and rubbed his towel slowly in his hair. When
Mike didn't return after a couple of minutes, Jesse brushed
himself into some sort of order with his fingers and walked
down the hall.

   Mike was standing stiffly at the door.  Framed in the
opening behind him was Ernie.  Even form inside Jesse could
se the bland smile on Ernie's face, as he stepped past Mike
as if invited in and strode to Jesse.  "I'm so glad to see
you out and on your feet!"  he exclaimed with apparent
sincerity.  "You look wonderful - bruises are almost gone
already, and those stitches will be out in a couple of days.
Just wonderful."

  Jesse resisted Ernie's offered friendly embrace a little,
but eventually patted the older man on the back lightly.
Mike was frowning slightly.  "I'm not going to stay - I know
that would be awkward.  I just wanted to drop off your
latest deposit slips.  The money is in your accounts, and I
think you'll both be very pleased."  He gestured to Mike,
who lifted his left hand a bit to indicate two envelopes he
held there.  "We've gotten quite a buzz from your work.
Some fairly major players want you two to work for them, a
couple of the gay magazines want photo shoots, very good
stuff.  I haven't committed to anything now, please
understand," Mike protested quickly, stepping back and
turning toward Mike, his hands outstretched.  "You're on the
shelf for right now, and I've made that clear.  On a family
trip, I've told them.  So there's time to decide if you want
to do any of that.  It is good to know," he added, smiling
slyly, "that you're at least keeping in practice."

    Jesse and Mike both turned crimson.  "W - what d'you
mean?"  Mike sputtered.

   "Darling," Ernie cooed, "the place fairly reeks of sex. I
hope that's part of your therapy, Jesse - or should I say
Ronnie.  You need to get used to your screen names.  Don't
worry," he added reassuringly as they both instinctively
moved to open windows, "it's something you sort of need to
be attuned to.  After the years I've had in the business, I
can tell.  I think the parents won't realize a thing.
Anyway," he continued, his voice falling to a more
businesslike tone now, "I'd like you boys to meet me at my
RV next Friday around 11.  No photos or anything, just a
chat.  And I'll have another set of deposit slips for you.
All right?"  He smiled as if they'd agreed. "Excellent.
Well," he brushed his lips against Jesse's cheek, "bye." He
kissed Mike the same way, and swept from the house.

   It took a few seconds for either of them to move.  Mike
slowly held one of the envelopes out to Jesse, who opened
it.  A bank statement was inside.  Jesse swallowed hard as
he scanned it.  "I have more than $3500 in this account,
this says."  He blinked.  "You?"

    Mike nodded silently as he looked over his own
statement.  "It shows our fake names and addresses and
everything.  How can they do that? Make stuff up like that,
from nowhere, and all of a sudden you're you're not you any
more, you're another person and they can give you this -this
money . . ."

    Jesse looked quietly at Mike.  "Dirty money?"

    Mike nodded thoughtfully.  "I guess.  Maybe not dirty.
Slimy, anyway.  I just - " They both heard the garage door
open on its squeaky track.  They shoved the statements into
their pockets and raced back to the bedroom, trying to
rearrange it in some semblance of order. Mike grabbed a fan
and turned it on full blast, propping it in the open window.

  A few seconds later, just after they'd managed to assume
casual poses, Ben knocked on the open door.  "You guys OK?
Jes?"
"Hey Ben," Jesse smiled, relaxing and sitting up on the bed.
"We, um - we thought it might be like Mom or something."
   Ben regarded Jesse for a minute, then began grinning
broadly.  He looked over at Mike, who was seated at his
computer, face turned away from him in an effort to hide his
red cheeks.  "Not during the days, guys.  Mom and Mike's mom
are like running over each other to free up time to check in
here as often as they can.  It's too dangerous. Things are
weird enough right now, let it stay private for a bit, OK?"
Jesse nodded, blushing, though himself unable to stop
blushing.  "K."
   Ben gestured at the bed, which neither of them had made
very well in their rush.  "Besides, I think you're all done
for now anyway."  He chuckled as he stepped over to sit by
his brother.  "We're gonna need to get you dressed soon.
There's a memorial service at 7."
  "Is - is Dad going to, y'know, be there - in a coffin or
something?"

  "No, Jes.  Dad's being cremated.  This'll just be sort of
a celebration of him, of his life.  They're scattering his
ashes tomorrow out behind Seal Rocks.  I don't know if the
doctors'll let you come out on the boat - it'll be rocking
and all, it might make you really seasick.  Anyway, we got
to get you looking a little more formal here." He stepped
over to Mike's closet, and Jesse noticed for the first time
that some of his clothes were hanging there along with
Mike's.  Ben pulled out a pair of khaki slacks and a muted
aloha style shirt. "This'll do.  It's informal, like
everything at church, and hell, you're still a kid.
No one's gonna begrudge you not being in a threepiece suit."
He looked at Mike, who seemed to be trying to climb into his
computer monitor.  "You coming too, Mike?"

     Mike turned slowly to face Jesse, still bright red.
"Uh, ya, of course.  Gotta - gotta hold up my end. Nursemaid
and all that, right?"
   Ben smiled.  "Right.  Nursemaid plus.  OK, I'll be back
around 6:30 - you guys be ready.  And air out your room, fer
Chrissake!"  he added over his shoulder as he walked out.
     Mike sprang to the bed and started making it up as soon
as Ben was gone, barely giving Jesse time to leap off it
himself.  His face remained flushed as he worked, and Jesse,
standing off to one side, couldn't help being amused.
"Mike," he said calmly, "it's cool.  Ben's not gonna say
anything."
     "Yeah, but what if my mom figures it out??  We gotta be
careful here, Jes."
    "I know, but relax.  We got the fan on, it'll be fine
in a minute.  Mess up your cot a little too, it'll look like
we both crashed out for a while."

     Mike regarded this idea for a second, then smiled and
threw himself theatrically onto the cot, thrashing about for
a minute until the sheets were tangled.  "There.  That look
good?"

        Jesse laughed.  "Like we were fucking in it."

     Mike laughed, lying back.  "Oh no, too much!!"  He
pretended to panic, trying to straighten the sheets beneath
him up without getting off them.
     Jesse sat at Mike's computer.  He'd been playing
solitaire, and the game was a loser.  "So, how's our porn
doing?"
     Mike grew instantly serious.  "They like feature it
every day.  They're really pushing it.  They say it's the
hottest thing they've ever sold and shit.  I dunno," he
shrugged, "maybe that's all bullshit to sell it."
     Jesse thought for a minute.  "Let me see."
     Mike leaned over him and pulled up the voyeurvideo.com
site.  The logo was superimposed on a grainy still picture
of Jesse and Mike kissing while lying together nude on their
towels.  Once they entered the site, more stills of their
lovemaking were shown, with their genitals whited out.  The
caption, in flashing yellow letters, read, "OUR HOTTEST
SELLER EVER!!!  RON GANTRY AND JAMIE HALLER SET THE WEB ON
FIRE IN THEIR FIRST EVER SURFER TWINK FUCKFEST!!!!"  Below
it, in italic, was, "Caught uncensored by Voyeur Video
cameras in sunny California! ONLY the best from Voyeur!!" As
Jesse watched, the stills changed positions on the page and
others appeared, until there was a circulation of about 10
pictures of them doing various things.  It seemed that the
film was now available on DVD and VHS for home delivery, at
a stunningly high price given the cost of most DVDs and
videos.  "well," Jesse noted, "at least I understand now how
they get so much money.  Seventy bucks for a DVD??"
     Mike nodded.  "It's kinda weird, isn't it?"
     "It's so beyond weird."  Jesse turned away from the
computer, and Mike clicked the screen back to his homepage.
     A bustling noise came from the kitchen, and Jesse's
mother walked in.  She was dressed in black.  "Are you OK,
honey?  It's time we went to the church - we need to be
early.  Ben said he put out an outfit for you, do you need
it ironed?"

    "No. Mom," Jesse said, rising from the chair.  "It's
fine, it was all hung up and stuff."  He indicated the
shorts and aloha shirt Ben had left hanging on the closet
door.

     Jesse's mother inspected the clothes for a second.
"Well, you're just a boy still - I guess that's all right.
And I know you still aren't feeling your best. Yes, I guess
this will be all right," she mused as she inspected the
shirt closely.  "At least it's dark."

     "Mom, I can put on my suit if - "

     No, it's OK.  Your suit's up at the house, and we'd
have to find a shirt and tie . . .  This will be fine,
Jesse."  She stepped towards him and brushed his hair back
off his forehead.  "Are you feeling better?  Did you rest?"

    Jesse smiled.  "Ya Mom, we both rested a lot.  It was
nice."  He glanced at Mike, who quickly looked down to
examine his bare feet.
     "Good.  Get dressed, now - I'll be out in the living
room."
     Jesse nodded, and she left.  Mike started giggling.
"I can't handle this, dude, it's just too funny.  `Oh yeah,
we rested.'  Christ."

    "Well, we did," Jesse protested mildly, shucking off
his shirt.  "We just did a little exercise before we
rested."

     "I'll say."  He stood and steadied Jesse as he stood on
one foot briefly to climb into his shorts.  As he did so, he
took the opportunity to fondle Jesse's ass a little.

       Jesse grinned.  "Damn, dude - you never quit."

     "What can I say?"

     "How about goodbye?"  Jesse leaned over and kissed him
briefly.  "For a little anyway.  I gotta go."

     "I'll be there."

     "I know.  Thanks."

     The church was already crowded when Jesse and his
mother pulled up. Ben had gone on before at his mother's
direction, to arrange for a quiet place for Jesse to wait in
until the service.  The family sat in the prayer room just
off the floor from the main sanctuary.  The pastor came in,
uncharacteristically wearing a suit. And embraced them all.
"Jesse, are you doing OK?"

     "Yeah, Pastor Ed, I just have some headaches that'll go
away soon."

    Pastor Ed stroked his cheek gently.  "You look good,
son.  I'm so sorry for your loss."

     "Thanks."  How could he say anything else to this guy?
How could he explain what had happened, what he'd done, what
people thought, what he wanted, what he was ashamed of, what
he found himself increasingly taking a sort of pride in?
The best seller ever . . .

    They walked out behind Pastor Ed into a sea of faces,
all inspecting Jesse for signs of beatings or abuse.  He
felt naked under their gaze, as if they all knew and were
about to stand up and denounce him.  He looked at his shoes
and shuffled to the front pew.

    There were some hymns, some brief tributes by former
Marine buddies of his father's, some of whom he knew
vaguely, and a simpering speech by the head of his father's
old firm - the one that had laid him off.  Jesse grew angry
as the guy- an obvious PR flack - spoke on and on about what
a fine employee and person his father had been, his bassett
hound eyes drooping with feigned sorrow.  You bastard, Jesse
thought, you're the ones who put him over the edge.  You
didn't give a rat's ass about how he felt until he turned up
dead.  He started to stand up to tell the guy to go screw
himself, but felt Ban's hand firmly holding him down.
Don't, he mouthed at Jesse.  Jesse looked at him mutinously
for a moment, then sank back in the pew.

     Finally Pastor Ed stood alone at the small lecturn. "We
always wonder, when something like this happens, where God
was.  Why didn't the Creator who loves us so step in,
save Walter Sullivan, protect his son and his wife?  Why did
God let this all happen?  The suffering this family has
faced, the pain they have to go forward with, the memories
they have to bear, are like millstones for them.  The pain
of loss, of feeling we somehow let Walt down, of wanting to
do something - anything - to ease the suffering we see
before our very eyes, even in the midst of our plenty,
wracks the heart of everyone in this room.  It's one reason
you're here - to bear witness to your grief, to express your
own regret and pain, to offer some seemingly inconsequential
gesture of love and support.  And it's wonderful that you do
these things.  But we come back to the issue:  our love and
support are like feathers compared to the millstones Walt's
death has placed on all of us.  Why did God let this happen?

     "The answer, I think, is at once incomprehensible (and
so unsatisfactory to human ears) and common-sensical.  It is
that God is God, and we aren't.  We have a job to do, a
place in the Creation He has made, and running that Creation
isn't part of it. That's God's job.  And if we believe that
he knows what he's doing as he unfolds his Creation and its
mysteries to us, then we accept that his purposes and
intents are often beyond our understanding.  We also accept
that from even the worst things, God can through our love of
Him, and for each other, bring forth joyous fruits.

     "This isn't a popular idea in modern America, where we
think we can control everything from the temperature in our
cars to the upbringing of our kids to the time we spend at
work and at home - to everything.  We as a species, and as a
culture, demand answers.  There are reasons for things,
causes and effects.  And those are supposed to be deducible
of the individual human mind.  Whether it's the secrets of
DNA or the origin of the universe, we're confident, we're
determined, to understand, to use our power of reason to
peel back the onion layer by layer and finally reach the
central nugget of insight that will explain everything. Now,
don't get me wrong - that's a great and noble undertaking.
But we need to realize, and to accept, that once the onion
is peeled all the way, the central nugget we find - the core
of all insight - will be God.

     We all try to run our lives ourselves.  We have
control, we're the captain of our ship.  But we aren't.
We're passengers on God's ship, and He calls the shots.
Only by placing our lives in His hands, only by trusting our
sacred Captain, can we pass through all the seas of life,
and come at last home to His loving embrace.  Walter
Sullivan has made that journey.  He did it with pain, and
with despair, and maybe with shame, but I like to believe
that at the end, he trusted God to see that everything would
come out right.  That he knew he was not forsaken, nor would
his family be.  That pain would pass, and loss would dull,
and the sacred gift of life would continue.  That's my
prayer today - for Walter, and for each of us.  Hold on to
your Creator, trust in His grace and love - and come at last
safely home."

    As they prayed to end the service, Jesse let himself
cry silently.  His father didn't deserve what had happened,
his father didn't deserve him.  He'd let his father down so
much.  He was truly a great disappointment.  And now he was
dead, and he'd never be able to make it up to him.  Never. A
lifetime of opportunities, of love, of redeemed promises,
lay in ashes, just as his father lay in the small bronze urn
dully glinting in the overhead lighting on the dais in front
of him.

       The next half hour or so seemed dreamlike, as Jesse
tried to make sense of what had happened.  People kept
coming up to him and hugging him, many crying, all seeming
to want to pet his head or rub his back and say things he
didn't really hear.  He was conscious of Pastor Ed hanging
just out of earshot, watching with a kindly look that partly
reassured him and partly pissed him off.  His mother and
brother had moved off into their own circles of people
commiserating with them.

       Finally, the last person turned and walked away, and
Jesse stood alone, arms limply at his side, staring at the
urn.  Was that all a human body needed, he wondered.  It's
like the size of a Coke bottle.  He felt disoriented.
Pastor Ed was suddenly beside him, taking him by the elbow
gently.  "Let's go have a talk, Jesse," he whispered.

       There was a small office next to the prayer room.
Jesse sat in a leatherbound chair in front of the desk.
Pastor Ed took an identical seat beside him.  "I know this
is especially hard for you, Jesse.  Are you feeling all
right?"

       Jesse couldn't make the question, or the fact that he
was sitting next to another person, register.  He stared at
some point in space a few feet in front of him, idly.  "Ya,"
he said in a monotone.  "I'm getting better."

       "Jesse," Pastor Ed continued, shifting his weight
noisily in the leather chair, "I think you might need some
counseling over the next few weeks.  I've spoken to your
mother, and she agrees, but it'll only work if you want to
do it as well.  You remember Dave Magadin?  He does a lot of
lay preaching here, especially in summer.  Well, he's a
therapist, and he's volunteered to help you out."  He was
searching Jesse's face for some reaction; Jesse felt self
conscious but somehow unable to react.  "You don't have to
answer right now, but I'd like you to think about it, OK?"

       "Sure," Jesse answered.  He shook his head, trying to
bring himself back to reality.  His father was dead, in an
urn.  His father was a reputed child molester.  He was the
reputed victim.  He was a porn star under an assumed name.
He loved Mike.  Tina was dead.  He let Mike fuck him in the
ass.  He was homeless, for a little while anyway.  Ben knew.
Ben was a queer, well sort of.  His dad had tried to kill
him, or something.  He closed his eyes and put his head in
his hands.  "Ya, I think I need that."

       Pastor Ed rubbed his back silently for several
seconds.  "Jesse, God sees you right now, and He loves you.
Remember that, hang on to that, because that's all our help
in the end.  A lot of people love you - "

       "I know.  Mike loves me."  Had he really said that?

       "Of course he does.  So do your other friends, all
the folks who've been with you in Youth Group for so many
years.  And so do we, all the pastors, and your mom and your
brother.  But you need especially to trust in God's love
right now, that He'll bring you good out of all the pain and
sorrow that's overwhelming you."

       "No, I mean - never mind.  No, I know all that."

       Pastor Ed smiled.  "You know that up here," he said,
pointing to his head, "but at times like this you need to
feel it here," as he touched his chest.

       Jesse suddenly welled up and started to sob.  He
didn't know why.  His head was pounding, and all he could
think of was the betrayal his father must have felt at the
end.  What he'd done to him.  To his own father.  After a
few minutes he looked blearily up from Pastor Ed's shoulder,
where he'd buried his face, and saw Mike peering in through
the glass in the door.  His face was streaked with tears, he
had one hand pressed against the glass.  Jesse reached out
his hand, croaking, "Mike!  Mike!"  as Pastor Ed held him in
the closest thing he could muster to loving arms.