Date: Mon, 24 Aug 2009 22:29:59 +0000
From: jonathon megerian <jonnymanmeg@hotmail.com>
Subject: Gay/High School/The president's son/The presidents son chapter four

Everything was dark, peaceful, and serene. Occasionally, a few images would
come into view. They were random and spontaneous. Suddenly, I heard a noise
in the background. The images turned dark and became angry as the noise
became louder and louder. It was a familiar noise, but I was unable to
place it. The images faded completely as the noise racked my body out of
its somnambulate state. My eyes creaked open and I was completely unaware
of what was going on. It took me only a moment, however, to realize that
the noise that had prematurely awoken me was my cell phone ringing from its
charger. I glanced at the clock as it kept ringing, not wanting to move. It
was 11:28 a.m. Ugh, I thought. Too early to be getting up. I slowly got out
of bed and answered the phone at the last second.

"Hello?" I answered groggily.

"Haha, hey baby boy. Did I wake you up?"

"Wha...oh. Hi Brent. Yeah, but don't worry about it. I like to sleep later
than most people."

"Haha yeah I can see that."

"Ugh, I really have to pee," I whined.

"Thanks for sharing."

"Hey now, you got yourself into this. If you're gunna be my boyfriend
you're gunna have to listen to my morning bitching from now on."

"Haha, alright I can deal with that."

"Well, maybe once I'm waking up with you next to me my attitude will
change," I said coyly, starting to come to my senses.

"Well, that's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about." I got extremely
nervous. `That's it,' I thought to myself. `He's done with me already. Well
I guess it figures, how long would he have been able to put up with me
anyway? I guess it was inevitable.'

"Don't worry, it's not a bad thing really," he said, knowing exactly what I
was thinking.

"Okay, well what is it then?" I asked apprehensively.

"Well, I was pretty excited when I got home last night, and my parents were
asking questions about where I'd been and...why I've been so happy these
past few days." He said the last part softly and it put a smile on my
face. It very well could have been the first time that I've smiled within
five minutes of waking up.

"Anyway, I told them about you and our dates and our, um, `relationship.'
My mom was happy, but my dad was worried. He wants you to come to my house
today so he can sit down and talk to you."

"Oh, shit, does he like, not want us to see each other?"

"No, no, no...I think he just wants to talk to you about what will happen
if we keep seeing each other...if we get more serious," he replied.

"Oh. Well...what exactly does that mean?" I asked.

"Well, if/when news about...us...gets out, there will be a lot of
publicity. You'll have to start dealing with things I bet you never thought
you'd have to deal with before. News, magazines, tabloids, fans. If this is
going to be too much for you I totally understand and we ca..." I cut him
off: "Hey, I know what I'm getting myself into. I'm okay with it. None of
that really matters to me. I'm sure it will be overwhelming at first, but
I've put up with a lot of shit in my life, and I'll get over it pretty
quickly I think. So if your dad wants to talk to me about it that's fine
with me. I'd have to meet him eventually."

"Oh God baby I'm sooooo relieved to hear that. I was so afraid this would
freak you out and scare you away," he said excitedly and relieved.

"Nahhh, you're not gunna get rid of me that easily," I said through a grin
that was probably obvious over the phone.

"Well good, cause I don't want to."

"Good haha. Anyway, so, like, when should I come over? For that matter, I
don't even know where you live."

"Well anytime between two and five is good for my dad today. It's been a
pretty hectic week, with the campaign getting even more serious now. We've
only got like 11 months until the election. Time to step it up."

"Yeah I bet. So where do you live?" He gave me his address and chatted a
bit more about the campaign. His dad is kicking up his country-wide tour,
starting in, of course, Ohio. He (his dad) was hardly going to be around
the house anymore, and Brent would use much of his free time on the
weekends travelling with his family to different key campaign stops. He
would remain in MA during the weeks so he could finish up his senior
year. He seemed rather ambivalent as to his attitude about his hectic
schedule. On the one hand, he enjoyed seeing different parts of the
country. He was interested in politics and he was his dad's number one
supporter. However, he wasn't exactly thrilled that most of his weekends he
would be out of state trying to sell himself to undecided voters. But he
accepted it as part of the process and was prepared to grin and bear it for
the next year.

I headed out the door at one thirty. It was about a twenty minute drive to
his house, but I wanted to give myself plenty of extra time so that I
wasn't late. When I got to the address, I couldn't see a house at all. All
I saw was a fancy iron gate with a modern guard house that looked sort of
out of place against the almost colonial background. There were trees in
the background that obscured my view of the house. I drove up to the gate
and rolled down my window to talk to the Secret Service agent in the guard
station. As I was doing so, three other agents came out of nowhere and
started examining my car. One had a dog with them who was sniffing my
car. I panicked. I'd smoked a ton of weed in this car. FUCK. I prayed to
God that this dog was only trained to smell bombs. I later found out that,
thank the lord, this was the case. The dog sniffed the car and tried
walking away, clearly uninterested by it.

The guard at the window looked down at me with an intimidating, austere
face and monotonously said "name."

"Um, hi. I'm um Jonathan; I'm here to see Brent. I was invited." I was
really nervous and probably looked like I was hiding a weapon up my ass or
something. If I was them, I would not have let me in, I looked that
sketchy. He nodded his head slightly, and then called to one of the agents
by my car: "We all clear?"

"Yeah, it's clean, let him through," said the agent with the dog. The agent
in the guard station turned to me and gave me strict instructions.

"You will drive through the gate and down the road at no more than five
miles an hour. Do NOT exceed the speed limit. Maintain a clear and steady
course. If you drive erratically, we will stop you, pull you over, and
conduct a sobriety test. You will reach a second guard station about one
minute and thirty seconds down the road. There, you will be asked to step
out of the car. You will remove all metal objects and place them in a bin
handed to you. They will be scanned inside the station and returned back to
you, provided no hazardous materials are found. Any such materials will be
confiscated and may or may not be returned at a later time. You will hand
the keys over to an agent who will park the car for you. You will then be
escorted by two guards up to the house. As your car has been deemed clear
of any threatening materials, the agent will by law be prevented from
searching the inside of your car. Any illegal substances found will not be
confiscated, but if such substances are in plain view you may be subject to
a sobriety test at any point during your visit. Do you hereby certify that
you are in no way intoxicated?"

It was a lot to take in and I was having trouble keeping up, but I managed
to nod a quick yes. He eyed me over one more time, and then opened the
gate. I followed his instructions, went through all the steps, and,
finally, arrived at his house. It was amazing. It was an enormous
colonial-style mansion with white columns in front of a large mahogany
door. The inside was just as magnificent. I'm not going to describe it to
you because it would take too long, but just picture something pretty
fucking amazing and overwhelming. I was directed to a room that looked like
a library or study. A man took my coat as I sat down and asked what I
wanted to drink. I said I was fine but he insisted, so I asked for a
sprite. He was back with my beverage in a crystal glass almost as soon as I
had finished asking for it. I thought to myself `I could definitely get
used to this place!'

I sat there for about a minute or so before the door opened and Brent came
in, a huge smile on his face that was contagious—pretty soon I was
smiling just a widely. I stood up and gave him a tight, long hug before
pulling back a little and kissing him. It was just as fantastic as the last
few times we had done it. After about thirty seconds of making out he
pulled back a little and stroked my hair, looking at me with the most
caring eyes.

"You look hot baby boy," he said.

"You keep calling me that and I'm gunna have a boner in front of your dad."

"S'okay, just stay sitting when you're talking to him. It's worth it for me
to be able to touch you for a little bit longer." He smiled.

"Goddamn, I do not deserve you. Not at all," I said.

"Haha, bullshit. I think we're pretty fucking good for each other," he said
grinning at me. I stared at him for a second and then gave him a quick
kiss. We hugged again, enjoying being close to each other. I said into his
adorable ear "So when am I meeting Mr. President?"

"Hahaha, he should be down any minute now."

"Well then maybe we should, um, sit down or something. I don't want me
being all up in his son the first thing he sees of me. I want to make some
kind of a good impression. Oh, and by the way, you could have warned me
that I was going to be fist-fucked by your friends at the guard house. They
scared the shit out of me!"

"Haha, sorry. You didn't have a bomb or anything did you?"

"Yeah, it's in my trunk, but I put it in a container of coffee beans, so
the fucking dogs didn't smell it."

"Well as long as they don't know it's there you should be fine. Just don't
set it off while I'm in the house please." We both started laughing and sat
down next to each other. He put his hand on my leg and I leaned my head
against his shoulder. He craned his neck a little and kissed the top of my
head while my hand rubbed his stomach lightly. If all I could do for the
rest of my life was touch him and kiss him and be close to him, I'd be more
than happy. After about a minute of this, I heard the door creak open and
instantly disentangled myself from my new boyfriend, assuming a rigidly
upright posture with my hands kept on my lap. I was trying to look like a
gentleman, but was failing miserably. I think I really just looked scared
out of my mind. I guess that makes sense, because I really was.

Mr. Laker walked in, and it was about the craziest thing I've ever
seen. Here was a man that I've seen on TV, that I had voted for, that I
never even imagined I'd ever meet in person, let alone be sitting in his
living room. I idolized this man as a politician and supported him
zealously. Seeing him walk through that door was an experience I'll never
forget. He smiled at me and I could instantly tell where Brent got his
killer smile from. He extended his hand and I took it weakly, literally
crippled by excitement and awe. He chuckled at how stars-truck I was.

"Nice to meet you young man. Don't be intimated by me, I don't bite." I
blushed, embarrassed by my lack of composure.

"I'm so sorry. It's nice to meet you, by the way. Yeah, so, um, what was I
saying? Oh yeah, I'm sorry by my um behavior, I'm just a little
overwhelmed. I'm not usually like this." It seemed I was doomed to be
perpetually unable to speak properly around any member of the Laker family.

"No need to apologize, I get it all the time," He said, smiling warmly.

"This is really exciting for me! I'm a huge supporter of yours. You were
actually the first person I voted for. I've been following you really
closely. Your healthcare reform plan is absolutely brilliant and your
commitment to diplomacy is something this country is in dire need of. Oh,
God, I'm sorry! Politics is probably the last thing you want to hear
about."

"No, no, not at all. It's always nice to hear from a supporter. And I
admire you for being so involved with and interested in politics at such a
young age. Getting youth invested in the future of this country is one of
my main goals this year, and it's nice to see some tangible results," he
said, reassuringly. I blushed at the compliment. It hit me once again that
I was having an actual conversation with the (hopefully) future president.

"So," he said, somewhat more seriously, "I'm sorry to rush things along but
I actually do have a meeting soon that I did not anticipate when I told
Brent the timeframe to relay to you. I apologize for that. So let me cut to
the reason I invited you here. Are you serious about continuing to see my
son?" He asked sternly.

I glanced over to Brent who smiled at me assuringly. I smiled back to him a
little, forgetting where I was, mesmerized by his face. I snapped myself
out of my trance and turned back to his father. "I'm absolutely sure. Brent
is a really amazing person and I look forward to getting to know him better
and better. I...have really strong feelings for him." I blushed once again.

"Well," he said, almost with a sigh, "in that case, I want to give you a
clear picture of what's ahead. As soon as a single photo of you and my son
is released, you will be put at risk. Being openly in a relationship with
my son puts you in a vulnerable position. People could use you to get to me
or my family, and we cannot risk you coming into harm's way because of your
relationship to my family. Therefore, when your relationship goes public,
I'll be forced to assign you a Secret Service detail. It will seem
uncomfortable and weird at first, but eventually you'll come to get used to
having him around. That's really the main reason I wanted to talk to
you. Of course, I'm sure Brent already warned you as to the new media
exposure you'll be getting, and everything that entails. I don't feel I
need to go into that anymore. I just want to make sure you're prepared for
what's going to come." He paused and exhaled loudly now that he had gotten
the difficult part of the conversation out of the way. He continued:
"Well," he sighed, "unfortunately I have to get to another meeting right
about now, so I won't be able to chat with you boys any longer today. But I
look forward to seeing you around the house Jonathan. You're welcome
anytime you want to come." He stood up and I immediately rose as well and
shook his hand. He left the room, leaving just Brent and myself.

"Oh thank God that's over with," I exhaled loudly.

"Oh come on, it wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No, I guess not. It's just intimidating is all. I mean I never thought I'd
have an actual face-to-face conversation with him, and the...subject
matter...was a little uncomfortable as well. But whatever, like you said,
it wasn't that bad." I paused and looked around. "So, what do you want to
do now?"

"I can give you a tour of the house," he suggested.

"Yeah! This place is amazing."

He smiled and said "alright come with me then." He walked out the door and
I followed me. He proceeded to show me his mansion (he called it a house),
and I was in awe at the sheer size of it. Outside one of the windows I
could see a large swimming pool and a Jacuzzi. The last place he showed me
was his room. When I walked in, I was taken aback by its size. It was
probably almost as big as the entire first floor of my house. He had a
king-sized bed with dark navy sheets and lots of pillows. It looked like
one of the display beds at the fancy department stores. He had a nice desk,
dresser, bookcases, etc. On his wall was mounted a fairly large flat-screen
plasma TV. There were speakers in all four corners of the room. I walked
around the room examining things in total silence. I was at a loss for
words. He smiled at me and jumped up onto his bed and lay down as I
continued scrutinizing the room.

I came to his desk and looked at its surface. He had a really nice
laptop. There were papers and pens and all the other crap you expect to see
on a desk. He had his iPod docked in some speakers. I was about to ask him
if I could look at his music when I noticed a glass paperweight on the
corner of the desk. It had painted on the top a cannabis leaf!!! I stared
at it with awe, then looked up to the ceiling and closed my eyes. Under my
breath I muttered, "Thank you lord." I had been dreading/putting off
telling Brent about my pot habit for fear that he was adamantly opposed to
smoking. However, this cleared away all my doubts and fears, and I was
beyond elated.

He must have heard my utterance, because he asked me what I said. I turned
to him and said, "I said, `Thank you lord.'"

"Why'd ya say that?" In response I picked up the paperweight and showed it
to him. He laughed and said, "oh that. Yeah, I like to smoke every now and
then. I got that as a joke birthday present from a friend. I take it from
your reaction that you like to smoke too?"

"Oh yeah. One of my favorite activities," I smiled.

"God, I can't wait to ganj with you!" he exclaimed. I loved that he said
`ganj.' I found it so cute!

"Yeah we'll have to do that really soon. Maybe when you come over MY
house," I said, not so subtly hinting that I wanted him to come over in the
upcoming days. I remembered his iPod and said "If you don't have either the
Chili Pepper or the Killers on this iPod, I'm breaking up with you right
now."

He laughed and said, "Well, you're out of luck mister, because I happen to
have both. So you'll just have to come up with another reason to break up
with me."

I Put some Chili Peppers on and turned the volume down low so that it
sounded like background music. I walked over to his bed and climbed on. I
rolled over to him and snuggled up to him. I put my head on his chest as he
put his arm tightly around my shoulder. Whenever we touched we were so
passionate that we almost hurt each other, trying to be as close as
physically possible. After a few minutes in this position, I rolled onto my
side and pulled him onto his side so that we were facing each other. I move
in and leaned my forehead against his, our noses only centimeters apart.

"You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long, long time," I said
softly-almost a whisper.

"You too. I think about you all the time," he blushed, looking down. I
traced his jaw lightly with my thumb. "I bet I think about you more," I
said gently. "I seriously doubt that's possible," he replied. We both
giggled a little. I leaned in and kiss him lightly on the lips. He got more
aggressive, kissing me hard and pushing his tongue against my teeth. I
opened my mouth wider to let it in, and our tongues slowly moved over each
other. I put my hand under his shirt and placed it on his stomach. A small
volt of electricity went through my body when my hand made contact. I
massaged in gentle circles his well-formed abs. In the meantime, his hands
had gone up the back of my shirt and were caressing my back. His touch was
light and caring and made my whole body tingle with excitement and love. We
stayed like this, making out on his bed, for a long time. After about
twenty minutes we broke the kiss, knowing that if we continued we wouldn't
be able to stop. I loved that he respected my desire to wait before we had
sex. He hadn't complained once, and I didn't even have to tell him to stop
making out with me. He just knew that I wouldn't want to go further and
didn't want to put me in the position wherein I would have to be the one to
ask him to stop. I realized then, as our lips were parting, that I was in
love with him. I was in love with Brent Laker, and it felt fucking
fantastic.

He looked at me with his beautiful eyes and softly said, "I know we've only
known each other for a short time, but...I...I am so in love with you. So,
so in love." I came close to crying. There were tears in my eyes, but I
managed to choke them back. I gave a little laugh, causing some to pour
out, and said, "I love you too Brent. More than you could know." He teared
up a little too, and whispered, "I love you, I love you, I love you..." As
he said this, he was closing the gap between our lips and mid-sentence, his
lips touched mine and we kissed again. After our mutual confessions kissing
seemed to have a different meaning-a different feeling. I can't totally
describe it, but, suffice it to say, it was much better.

When we broke the kiss we held each other close, our arms wrapped around
each other. I buried my head in the crook of his neck and kiss it softly,
over and over again. We stayed in this position for several minutes. "Wanna
take a nap?" I asked. He nodded an enthusiastic "yes," and we broke our
embrace as he lifted up the covers. We got under them and it was
ridiculously comfortable. I turned to my side and he spooned me, wrapping
his arms around my chest protectively. He kiss the back of my neck softly
repeatedly as I took one of his hands and pressed it against my lips. We
drifted off to sleep happily, together, in love.



Alright it was a pretty gushy ending, but I like it. I'm trying to avoid
too many clichés in this story, but, given the genre, some are
inevitable. On that note, however, I would like to respond to a few
comments I've gotten. I've decided not to go into a lengthy history of
their coming out, or the way their parents/friends reacted. Coming out
pretty much sucks for everyone, and anyone who says it was easy is probably
lying. We all had to do it, and I've never understood why writers feel like
anyone wants to read about the same thing over and over again. I'm not
belittling the process of coming out at all, but I am just of the opinion
that since it's something we all had to go through, it would be a waste of
time to elaborate on theirs. All that matters (with regards to this story)
is the current situation in which they find themselves: i.e. they are both
accepted and loved by their families, and sexuality is hardly an issue to
them. This is the way it is with my family, and since I'm basing this
character off of me, I've decided I won't badmouth my family by writing
about a reaction that is anything less than positive.

With that said, I'm still absolutely loving the email comments! They make
me feel good about the progress of this story and have motivated me to
write much faster than I thought I would. So if you want more chapters in
quick intervals, keep the comments coming! Just don't actually come out and
say "write faster" because that will piss me the fuck off! Thanks!

jonnymanmeg@hotmail.com