Date: Thu, 14 Feb 2002 15:09:41 -0500 (EST) From: Wishus Teglin Subject: Stupid Johnny, Chapter 5 (M/b) Stupid Johnny A Boylove Romance Chapter Five by Teglin with the invaluable assistance of Michael and Kallen Dedication: Once upon a time, a friend of mine named Michael was driving along a country road in his native Poland, and came upon a ragamuffin of a little boy, dressed in tatters, struggling all alone to push a cart much too big for him. Looking miserable, hungry, cold. It was one of those moments - we all have them - moments we look back on with such great regret. Because Michael wanted to stop. He wanted to talk with the boy, see if he was ok, if he could use some food, or perhaps a helping hand, or just a kind word. But he didn't stop. Why didn't he stop? Why don't we all stop, in moments like that? Why do we let convention, or fear, or doubt, or hurry, or sometimes just plain selfishness keep us from meeting the moment? Well, Michael helped me write this story. It's all about what might have been. It's dedicated to that little boy on the roadside. And every other boy anywhere in the world who might someday need one of us to stop ... just for him. Copyright 2001 by Teglin. You may freely copy this boylove romance and distribute it. Please have the courtesy not to alter it in any way. WARNING: This boylove romance contains descriptions of sexual acts between a man and a minor boy. Their sexual relationship is very important to the story, as part of their love-making, but it is their spiritual relationship that I wanted to explore even more, as the very essence of boylove. If this story is illegal where you are, or for your age, or the concept of a man/boy romantic relationship offends you, don't read further. Glossary: Jasio = Yasho Podhorowski = pod-ho-rouskee Piotr Ostoja = Pyoter Ostoya Leon Koczurba = Le-own Kotschurba Beskidy = Beskeedy Jodlowka = Yodlovka Rzeszow = Dgeshow Polska = Powlska Misiu = Meeshoo babciu = bubshoo siusiak = shu-shak (pronounced softly, tenderly - a boylover`s most loving word for a boy`s penis) Chapter Five Grecka Droga Beskidy Mountains Rzeszow Administrative District, Poland September 15, 1959 8:06 A.M. I stepped out from my side of the latrine and did a double take, finally realizing that the placard over the open doorway said just `Men.' Nothing about `Women.' There was no `Women' stall to be seen. I turned about, looking for other buildings beyond the glade, peering deep into the stands of firs. Their lower branches were neatly culled - sheared either by man's design, or Nature`s, making the forest here park-like. There was nothing to be seen beside this outhouse and the line of cabins we had come from. The outhouse itself was enough to regain my attention. It was of such curious design. Built taller, larger on the right side - tall enough for a man. But the left side would only admit a child. Certainly not a woman. Nor a girl. "Men' `Boys' That's what the signs read. Mystery seemed to pile upon mystery in this place. There had really been no time before now to even consider it all, but there was a story as yet untold here. The strange, beckoning symbols carved by both ancient and modern hand, upon the very rock face of the mountains. The old woman, and her uncanny ways. The clothing awaiting us, as if she expected our arrival, and as if she knew our sizes. The recurring theme of circle upon circle. Everywhere something small conjoined with something large. And now this surreal structure set in a forest glade. It was out of a fairy tale - a door for little people on the left. A door for the big ones on the right. Boys. Men. Jasio had giggled excitedly when he saw it. What kid wouldn't rush to investigate a dwelling built for dwarves or elves - whatever little creatures that might inhabit our old fables? I wondered - even without the placards, wouldn't Jasio have gone left, and I to the right. How could it be otherwise in this tale that we had somehow entered? It was almost like we were now acting out the parts of some unknown script. I looked around the glade. It was quiet. No wind, not even up above, in the treetops. Green sprigs of evenly clipped grass poked through brown, rusty mats of pine and fir needles, everywhere dappled in that golden hue of morning sunlight filtered through the weave of branches. The latrine structure was of log, like the cabins, but this time built with the boles planted straight down into the ground, and rising up unevenly - higher on the right, much lower on the left. Big entry-way, roughly hewn frame, without a door, on the right. Small one, just as rustic, on the left. Inside the appointments were anything but rustic and crude. Every surface was tiled in immaculate, gleaming white. There was no need for a light - whatever streamed in through the door or the high slit windows sufficed. It was built solidly. I couldn't even hear Jasio over on the other side. For a moment, that thought had made me panic. I had left him alone again! So I rushed to piss, straining to force the hot fluid up the rigid pole of my dick, leaning forward awkwardly. It splattered out upon the porcelain tile, yellow briefly staining the pure white in a furious stream. Immediately my penis had began to shrivel as the relief shuddered through my body. I had hurried back outside to wait for my boy, suppressing the urge to call out to him. He hadn't known me yet for more than 12 hours. Perhaps I should at least let him relieve himself in private. A rustle came from the `Boys' entrance, and I whirled eagerly to greet Jasio, as if we had been separated for ages. ------------------------------------------ The stream of pee flew wildly from the tip of his penis as Jasio danced on tiptoe, hurrying to finish. He felt no need to sit over the hole. Other than the few bites of Piotr's sandwich last night, he hadn't had enough food in his system to even notice in way too long. It felt so good to relieve his bladder though. A bolt of electric intensity seemed to wrap itself around the tip of his dick and then rush up into his body, till he shivered and wiggled uncontrollably! Suddenly he was light-headed. Quickly he stiff-armed the wall, and stood there swaying, feeling dizzy. The last thing he wanted to do was fall down in here on this hard, cold tile. It was kind of scary in here, so quiet. He couldn't even hear Piotr over on the other side. Swiveling on his wrist, still resting on his flattened hand against the wall, he let himself fall to the side till he could feel his back slap against the smooth, hard surface. He breathed too quickly, and the slow swirling in his head became a whirlwind threatening to topple him down bodily. With a little whimper of fear, sensing the walls starting to close in on him - just wanting to get outside again to wait for Piotr - he pushed with both of his hands back against the wall and lunged spastically forward through the door. In a daze, he saw a man's bulk there, and for some reason that just made him instantly giddy. He was losing control, but didn't care! Piotr! Jasio tried to smile, to answer that ready and welcoming grin that he saw so swiftly fly to Piotr's lips as the man turned to him. Instead, the boy stumbled and started falling again. It was the hunger. He knew it, even as he felt his knees buckling Two days with so little food and he always grew faint. It happened every time. Ahhh! Something different this time though. Instead of the cold arms of Mother Earth, he fell into the enveloping warmth of Piotr's outstretched arms. Piotr said something. Jasio heard it, even as he felt the warmth of the man's stomach cushion the side of his head. Strong hands slipped up under his armpits "Are you alright, Jasio?" came the deep tones again. And then, "Here, let me hold you for a moment ...," And then was flying! Up ... up ... it seemed like Piotr was swinging him round and around in circles. Jasio giggled, feeling lighter than a bird. It was just the hunger, he knew. This was all one of those light-headed visions he had when he got too hungry ... imagine a man who would pick him up so easily, and hold him so tightly. Such a man must love him very much .... Jasio giggled again, at his own foolishness, and tried to concentrate. On the Circles. Was it his mind swirling in circles? Or was it the man ... was it Piotr? Jasio strained to open wide his suddenly heavy lids and peered up beyond the man's concerned face to the circles. Why such concern?! Look up, Piotr! Look up at the circles! Circles of trees. A circle up there in that crystalline blue sky. Circles joining. Always joining. Coming together. Was that it? Fly in circles! Maybe Piotr would fly with him. They could fly together! "I'll hold you until you feel alright, Jasio," he heard the concern in the man's voice too, and felt the soothing warmth of the man's hand on his brow. Hadn't he said something like that before? When was that? What had he said, back in the cabin? "I won't ... I won't let you down, Misiu. Ok? I'm not any kind of miracle worker, but things are going to be different in your life now. I'm happy, Jasio. It's happy that I am, that you and I have finally met." Happy? The man was happy? To be with Jasio .... What else had he said? "And then, sometimes, well, we get hard because of ... great emotion. Like when we see someone who's ... exciting to us, someone we like ..." Someone to hold him, and never let him go. Someone who wanted him. Who liked him! Even while they flew the circles. While they became the circles. That's what they would do! Together forever! If Piotr meant what he said, then ... circles went on forever. And these joined. One connecting with the other. Of course ... it never happened that way in this life. But ... what if ... what if this were AFTER life? It all changed when the man's car hit him. What if ...? The swirling circles in his mind all came to a sobering end at once, and Jasio opened his eyes fully to stare up into those of the man who held him so tight. It didn't seem that he was dead. This all seemed very real, but how could it be? He shivered. "You're really here ... aren't you?" Jasio heard himself asking. His voice sounded weak, and unbelieving, even to himself. "Ooh, you`re cold," Piotr said. "Let me get you all warm, little boy." And Jasio felt his body being folded into the man`s chest, his limbs gathered in and wrapped in the man`s body. "But, yeah," Piotr continued, "I'm really here, and now you seem to be back too." Piotr chuckled. "I think you fainted, Jasio. Feeling better now?" "Yes. If ...." Piotr waited, just watching as the boy lifted his head a bit, and seemed to search the man's face with those big eyes of his. "If what?" "If all this is for real." "Oh, it's all for real, alright. You seemed to kind of ... black out there for a minute. What were you smiling about?" "I just got dizzy, I guess. You caught me." It was almost a question, as if Jasio still didn't quite believe it. "Ahh!" Piotr said dismissively, pursing his lips. "I'm just glad I was there. Now, do you fell like you can stand up? Or should I carry you to breakfast?" "I think ... I think I can stand up now," Jasio tried to rise, pushing out gingerly, softly, with his arms, untangling them like a fledgling bird's wings, where they rested against the man's chest. He seemed to test his own muscles as Piotr rolled him out of his arms and stood him up. "Oh!" the man exclaimed. "Your pants are still unbuttoned and your suisiak is getting cold too, I'm afraid. Let me do the honors," he chuckled as he quickly knelt before the boy and grasped the flaps. . Jasio still felt weak, but his head was perfectly clear now, and he looked down at the kneeling form of the man before him in even more of a disbelieving daze than before. If not a dream, then what kind of world was this, where a man of such power and strength would kneel down before him, and willingly take such care of him?! Once again - just like in the cabin, with the clothes - he glimpsed something in this moment, as if he had lived it before. A different place, a different time, but once before - long ago - some man had knelt before Jasio. He could feel the tug of the man's big hands upon the fabric of his pants, felt his own slight body being jostled forcefully, submitting to the man's strength ... but somehow feeling like it was his due, like he - Jasio ... Stupid Jasio - no! He had never been called Stupid Jasio back then! He had been loved! The man had cared! Just like ... this man? Jasio felt his penis filling then, even as he watched and felt Piotr's fingers on it, once again lifting it, folding it upright against his own flesh, and covering it with the soft fabric of his new underwear. It was like his little dick felt it too - the goodness of the man's touch, the rightness of it - the caring in it - and some kind of wanting ... so many times he had felt that wanting. Jasio felt like crying all of a sudden, but he didn't understand exactly why. Not tears of sadness! For once he couldn't even identify his own feelings. This was like nothing in his experience before. Or ... was it the remembering? Or just wishing that these memories were somehow true? Or fear that if they were true, could this moment end, as a dream, and be nothing more than fuel for even more hazy remembrances? Or should he really cry because of Piotr? Because of the man's touch? There was a tightness enveloping him - he felt his balls pulling up tightly beneath his hardening prick, felt the tightening of the skin around his shaft - felt the man's hand tenderly brushing up against it, wrapping it too in his warmth. Why did it strain up and out, against the man's hand, not resisting, but more of that ... wanting .... Jasio closed his eyes, and started to lean forward, now wanting to force his body against Piotr's hand, wanting that tightness he felt down there to never end, wanting Piotr to grasp him there again. It had felt so good last night in the car. For once just for him! Knowing what it was like to be given that gift. Knowing that Piotr too wanted the giving .... Clang - clang! Clang - Clang! The breakfast bell rang out distantly, coming from the direction of the cabins. It seemed far away compared to before, but still the sound carried forebodingly in the morning stillness. Jasio gasped and tensed and stared down at Piotr in wide-eyed alarm. ------------------------------------ Clang- clang. Clang- clang! The old woman rang the breakfast bell more furiously this time. In the dank forest, where the sun was rising but still struggling to penetrate around the common latrine, every sound was dampened in the thick carpet of spruce needles and the moss growing like dark green fur up along the tall trunks, but we could hear her impatience. "Oh! We're going to be late!" I exclaimed as I forced my eyes away from the still hard little lump rising up beneath the fabric of Jasio's britches. and looked up at him. He looked so alarmed! Almost frightened, as if he were about to cry. Such a lot for a little boy to take in, all these new surroundings, old women waking him up so loudly, and now that raucous, angry banging of the breakfast bell. No wonder he would feel a bit frightened. I tickled his bare midriff with my breath, and at least got a surprised little glimmer of a smile in return. The bell had caught me on my knees, face to face with his cute little belly button! Not that I had noticed it - my attentions had zeroed in on the blue-glow of his iridescent glans, where it peeked from above its encircling foreskin. As his penis lengthened and hardened, seemingly responding to my touch, I watched entranced as one last drop of his pee squeezed out from his urethra to pearl up, poised to spill upon my willing fingers. Instead, as I pushed his shaft back against his pubis, the droplet disappeared in instant absorption into the fabric of Jasio's undershorts. He held his tunic scrunched up with both hands, baring his tummy so I could get at the buttons of his pants and undies. In the chill stillness, I literally felt the heat emanating from his flesh - his stomach was molded to the outline of his muscles - I could have joined my hands around his waist, he was so slim and trim. Until that clanging bell jolted me back to reality, I was lost in a moment of wonderment - here I was kneeling before this stripling of a boy. Just moments ago he had literally fallen into my arms and I had held him till his wave of dizziness had swept away. Now it was I, with all my strength, all my bulk, subordinate to Him - where else would I want to be? What more suitable pose for a boylover? With his little penis safely tucked away, I fumbled hurriedly with the last of the buttons, and jumped up laughing and held out my hand. It seemed contagious, because for just a second he looked at me with such wide eyes, wondering, questioning - I could swear there were tears there at the corners of his eyes from his fright - then all of a sudden he nodded his assent, grabbed my outstretched hand, and we started off running, the sound of our footsteps muffled in the leaf- strewn trail, but our giggling almost drowning the old woman's bell. She stopped hammering away at it just as we ran out from between the cabins into the courtyard and slowed to a walk, so we could straighten our clothes. She was standing right there on the screened-in porch, and glared at us sternly. "We really do apologize, babciu," I called out through my rasping breath. I wasn't used to the thin air, and that short run had winded me surprisingly fast. Jasio had collapsed into my arms earlier, but now he hardly seemed affected at all. He did stop giggling quickly enough and kind of stepped behind me a bit, suddenly grasping my hand with both of his, and half-shielding his body from the woman's gaze. "I expected you to be late, Communist," she answered dismissively. There was no anger in her voice, though. That, along with everything she had said and done since we met last night told me a lot. This old woman was cantankerous, but she had a soft heart. I started up the steps and kind of gently tried to pull Jasio out from behind me. He held back just the same. "You haven't met my friend Jasio, have you?" I motioned across my body towards my shadow. "No, I haven't, but I can see by the stains on your knees that you couldn't wait for breakfast before servicing him. Let me see this boy you kneel to," the old woman gruffed like an old billy goat. I almost stopped in my tracks, astonished at her comment. Guiltily, feeling a blush coloring my suddenly hot cheeks, but not at all sure exactly why, I looked down at my trousers. There were indeed two wet and dirty stains soiling the white fabric. Surely she could not have meant what she seemed to be implying! I gazed back up at her, wondering - what could she mean? What would an old woman know of such things? There was something of a grimace on her face that I was sure might pass for a smile if I knew her a bit better. Had she been joking? I felt a sudden surge of ... I guess, pride! Reflected glory, for sure. For attached to my arm as he was, Jasio adorned me. He was just gorgeous in his sailor suit, even with his straggling hair still unwashed and uncombed. I beamed down at him, then back up to the old woman. She looked stunned - he mouth hanging open. She saw it too, I thought, smugly. "Doesn't he look just perfect in your outfi ...." I started to comment, but she suddenly staggered back, catching herself against the wall, and just stared at Jasio. "Are you ... are you alright, babciu?" I said, reaching out to her. "Here, Jasio, let's help her to the chair." The boy forgot his shyness, and jumped forward, letting my hand go, so he could grasp the old woman's left arm, even as I took her right, cupping her elbow in my palm and easing her back. Still she stared slack-jawed at Jasio, even as he stood right there before her, letting her eyes roam across his face, studying him. Her breath was coming in heaving gasps, lifting her chest. "Do you think you'll be ...." She abruptly shook off my hand and waved me to silence. "What's your name, boy?" she peered at him, but her voice now belied the fierceness of her gaze. She now sounded so tender and soothing. It worked like magic with Jasio, and he smiled at her. "Jasio, they ca ...." "No. What's your real name?" "That's ... all I've ever been called, babciu," Jasio shrugged his shoulders. His brow knit warily. "Your last name?" He dipped his head, and shrugged again. "I don't have a family. I just stay wi ...." "With the farmers of Jodlovka," she interrupted, speaking slowly, softly now, here eyes narrowed, like she was seeing something beyond the boy's face. "Your name is Jan," she continued. Stating it, not asking. Jasio pursed his brow again and looked up to me, puzzled. "Well ... Jasio ... Jan. Yes, it makes sense that that would be your given name, Jasio." I nodded to him. "It's Jan," the old woman insisted. She was certainly familiar with the Jodlovka Collective. Perhaps she knew about Jasio's parents. It seemed that she had in fact seen him before. "But do you know hi ...." I started to ask her. "Commie's always talk too much," she muttered, not even deigning to look up at me. She couldn't take her eyes off of Jasio. "Surprise me, Mr. Big Shot Communist official, and stop talking." So I shut up and just stood there waiting, as she continued to stare at Jasio. He was starting to edge back up behind me again when she barked out, "Go ahead. You take Jan in to eat now." "Uh ... yes ma'am," I answered meekly. I could tell she hadn't meant any offense. I guessed that at age 90 or 100, she just didn't have a lot of patience for conversation. Jasio's gaze lingered on the old woman, when I motioned for him to come with me. I wondered what he must be thinking. He had just been informed of something so very personal, by someone whom he had just met - but someone who certainly sounded like she was the authority. And who was to gainsay her? He sidled over to me, looking half suspiciously, half in consternation, at the old woman, as I opened the glass paneled door to the dining room and stepped to the side to let him in. He looked up at me, his brows drawn up with a hundred questions, and his eyes like polished ebony-tipped missiles boring into mine. There was a reckoning to be made, I realized. And I didn't blame him. It was all coming to a head. Jasio would now more than ever want some answers, some understanding of this whole strange situation. With one last glance back at the old woman, he started to turn away from her finally, but half way around he abruptly stopped dead in his tracks and stared in seeming astonishment at his own reflection in the wall-length mirror that stood next to the door. I watched breathlessly, searching his face for what he was thinking. My god, had he ever seen himself before? Surely some of the farmers' wives had little hand mirrors. His eyes seemed to travel up and down slowly, taking in his whole reflected image. Then even more slowly, looking strained, almost hurt, he lifted his right hand and slipped the cap from his head and lowered it at arms' length, holding it down and away from his pants as if he suddenly felt that cap didn't belong with him, and that he must remove it, get rid of it, find some place away from his person to place it. Almost furtively then, looking pained, he glanced up at me and I swore I saw something like an accusation, or disbelief, or ... or shame? It made no sense to me. But it struck a cold blow deep into my chest. I felt like molding myself to the door jam in my own shame as he finally turned and slipped past me and walked with his head held down listlessly on into the dining room. Something was bothering him about that cap, or that suit, or ... I didn't know. But I was responsible for all this. Whatever it was, I had to make it right. This boy had captured my soul. I longed to correct every wrong he had suffered. And I longed for what few moments and hours I had with him to be filled with warmth and hope. I couldn't bear to be the source of any more disappointment or pain in his life. I breathed again, fitfully, and glanced back at the woman. She had witnessed it all too, and answered my gaze with a sternness that was quite clearly reproachful. "You brought him here, Communist. Now you do the right thing." All I could do was nod back. ---------------------------------- Jasio had seen himself before many times. No. Not in a mirror. Stupid Jasio was not likely to be granted time with such a precious possession. But he had seen himself in many ways. Even his own shadow revealed much to his studied gaze. He knew he was a slight boy. Slim. Straight, and standing as tall as his small frame allowed. That much he took pride in. And then there was the pond. It's glassy surface on a windless day added color and features to the shadow's one-dimensional portrait. So he saw himself as he truly was. Every feature was a known fact. Rather high forehead, regular, even eyes - dark brown, he thought, looking into the inky well of the water. Narrow nose, lips red and ... lips that could form any of a hundred shapes, from sad to thoughtful to angry to hurt ... well they couldn't form happy too easily. A chin that ... well, it seemed just right for his face, as did the ears, and the hair, and ... he guessed he was satisfied with all of that too. Yeah, he had seen himself many times, but never could he see IN himself what the others seemed to. Where was the STUPID reflected from? He had searched the ripples in the pond water countless times for that, and for all the other reasons that everyone booted him away. Yet he never saw all those other things. He only saw himself. He knew himself very well. Till now. He walked forward into the dining room towards the one table that was set with food and plates and glasses and knives and forks and spoons and ... stopped at it's edge. He took inventory. Just as one might expect. Everything for a good meal. For a fabulous meal. His stomach churned and twisted, begging to be filled. He felt his mouth watering. Yet could this be for him? Was that boy in the mirror him!? Were these clothes for him? Was this hat ... his?... He set the cap down on the table next to the sparkling clean plate and shiny silverware, and reluctantly let his fingers slip from the soft fabric. They lingered on the equally virgin white of the tablecloth. Behind him he heard Piotr following, heard the man's slow steps, soft and measured on the many-colored rug that covered most of the floor. Those steps belied the man's size and brute strength, but they seemed to fit with the way he had held the boy so tenderly just moments before, in the woods. They seemed to fit with the way he had sought permission to sit on the bed, to help Jasio dress, and the way they had laughed together, the way he had carefully laid all of Jasio's possessions out on the table ... the way he had extended his hand .... Now he felt the very warmth of the man's body, as he stood quietly behind him. Of all things strange and wondrous here, of all things so UNfitting with Jasio's world, it had to be this man. So... what was this man ... to him?... "Uh ... why don't you take that seat, Jasio," he heard Piotr say in a quiet, hushed, and hesitant voice. He wondered why the man sounded that way. He did as suggested, and even felt the big man's helping hand on the back frame of the chair as he pushed the boy up to the edge of the table. He watched as Piotr walked around to the opposite side and sat down, searching his face unobtrusively. Piotr looked so ... intense. Wide-eyed, taking in everything, thoughtful, and a couple of times the man glanced over at Jasio as if he were about to say something, but still he hesitated. Finally he said, ""This looks great. I'm famished. Are yo ... sorry, of course you are," he ended awkwardly. Piotr lifted a fork and dipped it into the yolk of an egg. "Go ahead, Jasio, have at it. Eggs. Ham. Potatoes. All the milk we can drink." Jasio understood. He just still found it hard to believe. He looked at his own plate. The potatoes threatened to spill off the side onto the table. There were two eggs, and more on a platter between them. Big sausages. A huge loaf of still steaming bread. A bounty that he had only seen at festival time, but once again Piotr made this time so different. This food was on HIS plate. This feast was for ... Glupi Jasio. He slowly picked up his own fork, but somehow he couldn't just plunge it in and start eating. The tightness was there inside him again, just like out in the woods a moment ago, but this time not spreading from the man's hand on his penis - this time it was from a different kind of memory from his past. It threatened to choke him - like he sometimes felt when he got really sad, but ... this feeling wasn't from sadness. It gripped him deep inside his chest, like a hand around his heart. Yes, he understood, but he was afraid to give in to this feeling - oh how long he had refused to acknowledge any hope! Not wanting it to, but completely unable to shut it out, Jasio felt the hope rising up from deep within his very being - it had for so long lain dormant and hidden. He used to sense glimmers of it every time he had a new idea or found an interesting new object - but in truth this thing welling up from within had been beaten down for so long that it was almost foreign. Now this man sitting across from him, urging him to eat, had let the thing loose. Other people made so much of it - this Hope. It almost frightened him, yet he knew deep down that it was something good. If only he dared, he might let it rise more easily and accept it. He felt his body shivering as he hesitantly touched the tip of his fork to the mound of potatoes on his plate. Was it really possible that any of this was truly for him?! Could he dare to let this dream be a part of his reality? He speared a potato and brought it tentatively to his lips, tasting it with the tip of his tongue. Shyly, wonderingly, he let his eyes peer over the fork towards the man seated across the table. Could he dare to let Piotr be a part of his reality? ------------------------------------------ "It's good, huh?" I said, feeling better now that Jasio had finally taken up his spoon and fork and was eating. He was taking it slowly, sparingly. His hand had trembled for a bit at first, but at least he was eating. For a while there, as I walked behind him into the dining room, I had wondered. He had seemed to step forward into an unknown that he wasn`t sure he was ready for. I kept trying to imagine what he might be thinking, but it was hard! How to put myself in his shoes? Yeah, I'd been through some rough times in my life - including back when I was a kid myself - but nothing like this boy. "Take anything you want, Jasio. Seems like we're the only ones around, so let's stuff ourselves while the stuffing's good." "No, I mustn't eat much," the boy said quietly, keeping his eyes down. I don't think he had even once looked up to see how sumptuous this place was, or to look out upon the grounds behind the inn. It was a beautiful setting. Even more park- like than behind the cabins, with flower beds here and there, still in late bloom. And over to the right, visible through the big plate-glass windows covering one wall of the dining room, was a large glass-enclosed structure. I could see a veritable plantation of growth in there. Trees, ferns, bushes - must be a solarium. Not for the first time, I wondered how the old woman managed all of it. Surely she had help. "Well, you can truly eat all you want," I urged him again. "No," he repeated quietly. Not defiantly. Not forcefully. Just as if stating a fact. "Why not?" "I'll get sick. If I eat a lot after not eating for several days, I'll just throw it all up." "Oh!" How stupid of me, I thought. Once again I realized how little I really understood how harsh his life had been. "Good point. Then uhh ... we'll ask the old woman to save some for you, ok?" I tried to think of something else to say, and looked around the room guiltily, avoiding his eyes. When I did look back, he immediately dropped his gaze back to his plate. "Who is she?" he suddenly asked. His voice was even higher than before, and tense, almost quavering. That, and the way he cocked his head in mystification, told me at least part of what was bothering him. Well, I had sensed it before. He needed some answers. He looked so small and vulnerable there in his chair. The table was just the right size for two - and of course it was just like the one in the cabin - fashioned in the shape of conjoined circles. I sat on the side of the larger curve. He had taken the smaller. All about us were more tables, just like this one. Oddly enough, every setting was for two. Mystery piled upon mystery. Always a new question to be answered here. `Piotr," Jasio said again softly, his voice sounding just as small as he looked sitting there. I noticed his hands and fingers on the tabletop - so slim and small, like a doll's. I longed suddenly to hold them and to touch each digit and feel again his flesh with mine. "Yes, Jasio." "Who is that lady?" "I'm ... I'm not sure, Jasio. I think she just runs this place. Maybe she owns it." "How did she know me? She really seemed to know me," he followed up quickly. He had dropped his fork on the plate with that first question, and I think he had totally forgotten about the food. He wanted answers, but I didn't seem to have any. "I ... uh ... don't know that either, Jasio. She does seem to know about Jodlovka, so maybe she's been down there, and saw you. "She's never been there while I was around." "Are you certain?" "Yes." Of course I had to take his word on that. He was a survivor. He would have been aware of everything going on at the collective. "Where is this place, Piotr?" "Well, I think it's a resort of some kind, with a warm spring. We're up in the mountains above Jodlovka. It's called the Grecka Droga - we were on the Old King's Highway, and then I turned off onto the Greek Way. I guess it's an old road through the mountains, leading over into ...." "The road seems to end right in front of this inn." Jasio answered. Again not defiantly. Not accusingly. Just stating a fact. It made me realize how he was taking everything in here too. Probably he saw much more than I suspected he did. "Hmmh, yeah, it does. But maybe ...." "What are we doing here?" he asked this time. I took a deep breath and put down my own fork. Now how to answer that? "We're resting, Jasio," I finally said. It was the truth. "Resting? For how long?" "Umm, I`m thinking, just today ...." "Why did you bring me here?" "Well, I hit your wagon, and I wanted to make sure you were ok, and ... but I couldn't stay around there at Jodlovka." "Why not? I heard Leon tell you he would let you stay at his place." Again I took a deep breath. There were two ways I could go with this. Deeper into a fabrication of half-truths or I could just tell him the facts. He was pretty good at sensing the facts anyway. He would no doubt know if I lied. "I saw how you looked when Leon made the offer Jasio. And anyway, uh ... some men are looking for me, Misiu. I frankly didn't want to stick around Jodlovka long enough to be identified. I couldn't leave you there. I felt like you needed me. So ... I drove off with you. You did tell me that you'd trust me for a while, so ...." "Did you do something wrong?" He dug deeper, ignoring everything but the direct answer to his question. So I complied, and simply answered, "No." "Why are they looking for you?" "Let's put it this way. I did nothing wrong, in fact. They think I did, apparently, but I don't even have a clue ...." No. That wasn`t altogether the truth. I did know part of why the KGB was after me. That damnable report I turned in on my last inspection trip. That damned airfield, and all the traffic in and out. Fuck! Jasio saw the consternation on my face. He was studying me. He even started eating a few bites again, absent-mindedly. He remained quiet for a moment, but I figured he was thinking. Calculating. "Where do we ...," he started to say, looking straight at me, but then suddenly he dropped his gaze back down to his plate, and continued more deliberately. "What are you going to ... do with me?" He had that same quaver in his voice again. I couldn't blame him. I'd done right by him so far, but that was no guarantee, coming from a near stranger. He really had no reason to trust me entirely. I would have to prove myself again and again before I could ever expect him to fully accept everything. "Well, of course I'll take you back down ... home, to your Collective ...," I said, thinking that would be his very first concern. "Oh!" He looked up wide-eyed, and blinked hard. And then he just kind of deflated backwards in his seat, like that was the very last thing he had expected or wanted to hear. He sat there slack-jawed for a moment, unmoving, staring at me, looking almost wounded, one hand suspended and tensed over the table top, the other holding his fork over his plate as if frozen in time. "Well ... Jasio, I don`t know where else I could take you." I tried to respond, sounding guilty and defensive even to myself. Like I needed to explain this very carefully for it to make sense at all. "Like I said, I felt like you needed me. And last night, I figured I needed just a little time, so I could made some plans to help you. I was going to take you back, then. I just can't ...." "Back there? How could you help me back there? They`ll just ...." "I ... don't know yet, Jasio," I interrupted. "I`m not going to let anyone mistreat you again. Please believe me. I have some friends ... a friend. He might be able ...." He dropped the fork and clutched the edge of the table with one hand on either side of his plate, and just held on, tensed, looking down unseeingly. "Then it doesn't make sense why you brought me here, if you`re going to take me back there." He said it distantly now, as if to himself, still staring down into the plate. "I felt like you needed to ... like I had to get you away from there for just a while ...." "None of it makes any sense, if you're ...," he continued, then finally looked up at me again and said, "Why, Piotr?" "Wh ... why ... what, Jasio? I'm sorry if I'm not ...." "Why did you ... even come back for me, at all?" he asked almost accusingly, tilting his head to the side, as if trying to peer at me from a new angle, to somehow understand it all. "Well. You were ... hungry," I answered, throwing out the first thing I could come up with. I certainly wouldn't be able to explain to him what I was really feeling when I turned my car back around and sped back to him and his cart. "Ok. But you gave me food. So why did you come back?" "I could see ... I felt ... you were alone there, and then I drove off, and thought how ... it was so cold, Jasio, and I couldn`t bear the thought of you out there in the cold like that." I answered, my tone almost pleading. "You covered me." Yes, but ... you needed a place to sleep. "I've slept on the ground many times." "Yes, but I couldn't just leave you there." "Why not, Piotr? Can't you see, that's what I'm asking. Why did you do it all, Piotr? Why didn't you just drive away and leave me there? Isn't that what a Party man would do?" He spoke softly still, but to my mind his questions were like darts or bullets, machine-gunned at me, scatter-shot. He just shook his head at me, still in disbelief. I couldn`t believe that he doubted my sincerity. Surely he had seen what I meant, how I felt? Stupidly, I answered even more defensively, "Look, I'm a member of the Party, but you know we're not all monst ...." He just stared at me for a moment, then seemed to dismiss me, mumbling quietly now, almost inaudibly, "That's what all people do, Piotr. Not just Party men. I thought that ... you ..." He picked up the fork again and desultorily pushed a sausage across the plate. I sat there stunned for a moment. It hit me right in the pit of my stomach - being included in his mind among all those others who had used and abused him throughout his short life. But I was different. I had held him, snuggled with him, dressed him. I had begged for his trust, and he had given it. I HAD held those perfect hands in mine. "I don't want you ... to ...," his voice squeaked now with his emotion, and I could see the tears starting to stream down his cheeks. "Jasio..." I muttered, opening my hands wide, beseechingly. Trouble was, I didn't really know what to say. "You were going to be different, Piotr. I could tell you were different from ...." He couldn't finish, but just sat there looking at me so hurt, shaking his head back and forth slowly in denial, till he just let his head fall down to rest on his forearm. His whole body convulsed with quiet sobs. I was rising from my seat, reaching across to him, about to ask him where on Earth he wanted to go if not back to the Collective, when suddenly I collapsed back down into my seat. Understanding came in a blanching wave, and I realized how dense I was being - how utterly stupid I had been. And how blind. I should have read the facts in the way he had sought refuge in my embrace just this morning, in bed. Or in the way he had touched the new clothes. Or in the way he had waited for me before stepping into the woods, or slunk behind me to hide from the old woman, or ... damnit, how he had looked at himself in the mirror just now .... It was one of the strangest moments of my life, because the realization made me at one and the same moment both elated and shamed. I meant something to this boy! He already looked to me for more than just the food or the clothes. He already expected much more of me. He wanted to stay with me! How many years had I hoped and dreamed for a boy to love? A boy who would love me. Now what a hole I had dug for us! I had gone back to him last night because I couldn't bear to just abandon him, like everyone else had seemed to. I had sworn to try save him, and here I was bumbling everything. I had raised his hopes, given him a glimpse of what his life might have been like if he had had a father or a mother or an uncle or ... even just some friend, someone who would do the slightest little thing to show that he was a boy worth caring for. That much I had done right. But now didn't that give him a right to depend on me? I had raised his hopes, just to dash them? I'd take him back to the collective? Dump him there and just disappear from his life? But what else could I do!!! "Jasio," I said quietly, forcing myself to be calm. I waited till he looked up at me. He didn't even raise his head - just looked up from under his brow. "I know that a lot of this just doesn't make sense, but you just have to believe me. I do care. I'm not like all those others down at Jodlovka. I want to try to make some changes for you down there, so ... so when we .... Damnit. You just have to believe me that I'd keep ... I'd stay with y ... I'd work every single day for the rest of my life for you if only ...." His eyes were slick with the tears, but he lifted his head and wiped them with both hands. His lips trembled as he almost whispered, "Just forget it, Party man," he said, sounding so infinitely weary and defeated. He pushed his plate away. "I've been through it all before. I'll get these clothes off. Just get me back my own stuff, please" For a brief moment his fingers sought the sailor cap, but then he sighed and let it go, and started to push the chair back to get up. "Jasio!" I pleaded, perhaps calling out too loudly, but there was no more time for feeble responses. I laid down my fork and sat up straight. He had a right to know the everything. Especially if he did care for me, he had to know what I felt too. And I had to make him know about all the danger, all the possibilities. He had to understand that I wasn't like everyone else, but that love cannot, does not conquer all. "Jasio, I ...." "Yes?" he looked up at me intently "Misiu, I want to tell you everything. I'll have to tell you some things about me that maybe you won't understand, about how I fee ...." "You two don't like my food," the old woman surprised us, interrupting me in mid-sentence. I hadn't even heard her enter the dining room. Jasio almost fell off his chair as he instantly shifted around to face her in alarm. "Oh. No, ma'am," I said confusedly, trying to regain my composure. "Everything is delicious. We're simply not that hungry this morning, I suppose." "Now what boy isn't hungry?" she said gruffly as she walked straight up to Jasio and pinched his cheek. He flinched from her, and shrank back even more in his chair. "You look like a skinny boy - you need to eat more." "Commie! I don't know what you two were talking about," she rounded on me gruffly, "but it wasn't good. You made this boy cry. Now you two get off to the baths, and you take care of him!" "I ... I want to, babciu. It's not what yo ...." "I'll have a nice dinner ready for you at one o`clock. You had both better work up an appetite before that," she ignored me. "Now get out of here." "Yes ma'am," I replied grimly, and stood up. Jasio edged his legs around on his chair, pivoting on his butt, and slid off it to the opposite side from the old woman, then stepped around the table to me. Still his protector, I thought, once again feeling the rush of elation. So he wasn't yet completely convinced that I was going to betray him like everyone else. I put my arm around his shoulder and drew him to me. "Right back out the door with you both, and to the solarium. You'll bath there this time," she ordered. "Alright. Oh, you have other baths ... you don't ... have many customers here at the resort this season?" I said, fishing for something to say as I sidled with Jasio towards the door. "Not many customers these days," she said offhandedly as she started gathering up Jasio's plates. "Mostly officers now. Since the war." "Military? You mean, the resort has become a favorite for Polish military families? "Men." She emphasized the word looking straight at me. "Polish, Russian, German. French. Mostly military men now - used to be different, in the old days, before the War, and before you Communists." That seemed very odd indeed. German military men, still coming here? The old woman must be in her dotage. "Uh. May I ask about the very unusual pattern that I see everywhere about the resort? The motif of the ... conjoined circles, of the rectangles, one overlapping the other, or ... well, as in this table, and the one in our room - these two ovals. It seems a very distinctive sort of pattern. Is there a theme that ...." "Hmmh!" she grunted and looked at me as if I were astonishingly dimwitted, then just turned and shuffled away with the plates, shaking her head. "I told you, Commie. Men come here. Boys come here, too." she said mysteriously, and disappeared through the swinging doors to the kitchen. --------------------------------------- September 15, 1959 8:48 A.M. Jasio's tears were still on my mind when I undressed and descended the steps to the first terrace within the bath. Those tears had left a red stain on his cheeks. I figured that the hot, humid air within the solarium would do nothing to pale that flush, but surely the warm waters would make him feel a bit better. I had expected him to just naturally strip and get into the pool with me. If there was ever a boy who needed a bath it was Jasio. I wondered when was the last time he had even had the opportunity for a hot bath, much less the last time he had taken advantage of that opportunity. Certainly it had been weeks. Perhaps months. Personally, I had pried my sandals off before the door behind us was shut. "One thing about Piotrek," Tomek used to laugh as he warned the new recruits in our war-time band, "if you ever see his eyes get all wide and eager for something, watch out! He'll trip over you and himself and everything else to get at it." I wasn't quite that bad this time. I knew Jasio was still upset. He hadn't said a word since we got up from the table. Nevertheless, I had stripped and was dipping my foot in before I realized that he wasn't undressing. I went ahead and stepped into the pool, hoping he would follow. I wished I could do something to cheer him up. The waters were crystal clear, the air was scented with the fragrance of the hothouse flowers. It was hard to imagine a more inviting bath. I lowered myself slowly into the enveloping heat, and felt like I was melting into the pool. Even my member, swollen and stiff by mere proximity to the boy for so many hours since we had met, was now limp. It nestled supine between my legs as I lay back upon the tile. Supine and impotent. Just as I felt. Still Jasio stood there very stiffly, nervously clutching both hands together, pulling and twisting his fingers. Once again I realized how little I knew about him. How little I knew about his past. Once again I wished I could start over and do this right! Perhaps he didn`t even know how to swim. Tomek was right. I was a klutz. "Want to ... join me?" I called to him tentatively. My voice sounded hollow and small. We were both dwarfed by the vaulted glass walls and ceiling. There were louvers over each pane, but most were open at this time of the day, and the sunlight streamed in. It was like the air and water both were part of our bodies, it was so warm. "In there?" he answered timidly, looking so innocent and demure in his sailor suit. I thought he was going to pop his fingers off, he looked so nervous. "Yeah, please do. It feels wonderful, Misiu." "What is ... this place?" He said, changing the subject, unconsciously opening his hands and holding them out palms wide, emcompassing the whole amazing spectacle. For it was quite astonishing. The building was really a tropical sanctuary and bath combined. The seven or eight meter wide bathing pool. just like the wide verge around it, was completely tiled in immaculate white, but it was just a small feature giving way to the flourishing jungle enclosed under the great glass dome. There were trees, ferns, grass around a natural pond, reeds rising up from within right along with misty tendrils of steam from the warm waters. On the far side they had even diverted part of the mountain stream to flow through the Solarium, providing its low burbling accompaniment to this natural symphony of colors and growth and warmth. "It's not deep at all, and it feels like heaven. Come on and join me. Then we can wash." "In the pool?" "Well, we can just soak in the pool. Then we'll wash there on that little alcove - see?" I pointed to one side of the pool, where a much smaller wading enclosure was connected to it, but a bit lower. A cascade from the larger pool would gradually flush any soapy waters from the smaller one into a drain. It was really quite an clever arrangement. "I'm sure we're supposed to wash first, but ... well, we ARE the only ones here, so ... come on in." "I guess ... so," he answered with obvious reluctance. I lay back completely, and closed my eyes, and paddled backwards off the shallow terrace into the deeper waters in the middle of the pool. It felt gloriously invigorating. I knew I needed a real bath, but this soaking was something like I imagined heaven to be. It even had the boy .... I let myself just float there then, my feet resting on the floor of the shallow pool, and opened my eyes to gaze upon The Boy. A few years after the war, the Russians put on a traveling exhibit of the great treasures of St Petersburg. Funny how the city wasn't called Leningrad during that show. The Ruskis wanted to demonstrate to all the world the profligacy of the noble classes. They wanted everyone in their new Proletarian empire to witness Romanov decadence. Among all the finery were some of The Tzarina's jewels, and among those was the fabulous Tashkent Diamond. I remember gazing into its facets, looking for the famous flaw within - the crude, jagged, heart-shaped shard captured within the clear crystalline structure - the intrusion that had made this diamond the most fabulous jewel of all. Till now. For as I lay back within the gently swirling waters of the Greka Droga and opened my eyes, The Boy knelt in one languid motion to remove his own sandals. Captured there before a background of sunlit crystalline panes, upon the virgin, polished white of the tile, he reminded me of the heart within that diamond - and how it's presence had transformed a mere stone into something fit only for a mighty king's beloved. Breathelessly I watched as the reflected light from the pool dappled across Jasio's form. From that mystical moment he became one with the Grecka Droga, a living part of it. My own heart started thumping within my chest as I looked about as if in a dream. There was this one boy here, and this one man. "Men come here," the old woman had said. "Boys come here, too." Dizzily, I felt just like Jasio had earlier - like I had been here before ... or like this had happened before ... but of course that wasn't true! It was just the freshening warmth of the waters - surely it was just my mind growing suddenly light and dizzy from this glorious bath! The two of us .... I shook my head, and pulled myself up so that I could prop my elbows upon the submerged shelf, and took another look around the solarium. Two pools. The large pond. The bath. Two paths leading through the jungle, two trees there beside the pond, two ... of everything! Two of every type of fern, and ... I turned back to The Boy. There was a rainbow rising above him in the humid air of our glass-enclosed world. Within it's frame rays of sunlight suddenly stabbed down through the ceiling and played upon him. I looked straight up, and there within the uppermost pane was every color of the spectrum, as if seen through a prism - all conjoining to shine down upon him .... The sun continued in its inexorable journey through our one day together, and the prism suddenly closed. I looked back across the pool. Jasio had stood up again and was looking at himself, his arms wide, as if he couldn't believe what he saw. "Did you see that!" he uttered in astonishment as he looked up at me. "I did," I managed to answer, shaking my head in wonderment. "I was just ... suddenly all these lights suddenly hit me, and ... but I didn't feel anything .. and they were totally ... there was no noise, just all these colors ...." "It was magnificent, Jasio," I said. "I think for a moment there you became part of a rainbow. I saw a rainbow. Maybe you were my treasure at the end of the rainbow." "What!?" he cocked his head to the side and looked at me quizzically, and giggled. "Some treasure," he said. "I'm just a boy." "And for some men that would be all the treas...." I started to say, but let the rest of my thought trail off unuttered. Slowly I settled myself back down into the water a bit, letting my elbows slide off the edge but extending my arms out to hold my body out, just submerged within the pool, my head and shoulders still out. He raised his brow. I was sure he sensed my embarrassment, because he fell silent too. He must also have understood what I had almost said, because as he returned to undressing himself, it somehow seemed less tense or worried about it. Like his thought were somewhere else, more introspective. He nudged his sandals off, using each foot in turn to lever them off. Then he bent to take them up in both his hands. It was odd the way he held them, looking at them, as if they were the treasures, as he tip-toed on his bare feet to one wall and carefully placed them, toes out and heels against the wall, side by side. He was so slender! He let one foot fall back upon it's heel, but with the nearer he stood poised, as if waiting for the opening notes of some ballet. Then it started. I watched in stony silence as he lifted his fingers to unbutton his tunic. Standing sideways to me, facing the wall over his shoes, I got a perfect look at his boyish lines - the graceful flow of the back of his tunic from his narrow shoulders all the way down till its hem brushed the gentle outward thrust of his bottom. The curve of his buttocks stretched the fabric of his shorts out suggestively, then fell to mid- thigh. His legs looked infinitely long - they were so thin, but not at all bony - just sculpted of curves and taut lines. He held himself tall, and looked statuesque, even though he barely came to my chest when we stood together. I wondered, as I so often did when I saw other boys, what it would be like for me as a grown man to bend down and share a kiss with him. If only .... I closed my eyes momentarily, and tried to erase the thought of our parting from my mind. Such a kiss was not to be, but it would do him no harm for me to dream. When I opened my eyes again, he had started lowering the tunic over his shoulder. I gasped! I swear up until that moment it had not dawned on me that I was going to witness his disrobing! I had been a dumb spectator, but now .... He was surprised by my gasp, and turned his head quickly to me, suddenly startled out of his own thoughts. The tunic draped down in a sensuous curve over his bared shoulder, and below. His thin arm was held tight against his side. I could see the shadows there, deepened where it entered the secret concavity of his closed armpit. I wanted leap out of the pool to lean down there too, and breathe deeply ... but his shoulder blade jutted out, emphasizing how delicate were his lines - what a slight boy he was ... would I rather draw my finger tips over it, to trace those lines? Like the statue that I had envisioned, he stood there looking at me, unmoving. I saw his eyes lower along the lines of my own body, until they rested still, staring at my midsection. It was only then that I realized that my penis had begin to lift from the waters. It was pulsing, growing hard fast, like the head of a snake rising curved then lengthening and straightening in just a few brief seconds till it stood straight up from its nest. Without conscious compulsion, my body flexed, and I felt the uncontrollable urge to lift my midsection up out of the waters. My dick rose magnificently, 21 centimeters of blood-engorged meat. My balls lifted and swayed, just breaking the surface of the water. There was nothing I could do about it. He was boy. I was man. I couldn't have hid my manhood from him, or what he had caused in it, from him even if I had wanted to. For some reason, now I didn't want to. I wanted him to see it. How huge it was. How solid and hard it was. How he had made it. I could only gulp for air, and rock there in the water, showing him. I wanted to call out to him, beg him to see it, to understand it. -------------------------------------- Jasio lined the shoes up carefully, wondering how long he'd get to use them. Maybe up against the wall they wouldn't get splashed. Shoes like that, clothes like those he had been given this morning, were special. Too precious to stain or dirty in any way. He wanted Piotr to know how grateful he was for the chance to wear them too - maybe if he took good care of them, Piotr would understand. The man tried hard to make him happy, that much Jasio knew. Even at breakfast, Jasio realized how it pained Piotr to talk about leaving him back at Jodlovka. The man cared. Now here in the bath place, Piotr had called him his treasure at the end of the rainbow! Worriedly, Jasio started unbuttoning his shirt, realizing all of a sudden that the man was watching him. What if he made a mistake in the bath? What if he fell in. He had never learned to swim. Not like the other boys on the Collective. It was the water ... the dark water in the pond - for some reason Jasio just couldn't force himself to jump in, when he couldn't even see the bottom of the pond through the murky waters. The other boys didn't seem to mind, but .... Well, that was Glupi Jasio. Always asking what was in there. "Just jump in! The monsters won't bite you too hard, Stupid Johnny!" The waters here in the bath were clear. So why did he still hesitate, wondered Jasio. He wanted to get in. He wanted to please Piotr. The man kept inviting him in. Ok, so he'd just do it. Just get the clothes off, and get in with Piotr. He'd have to take care of this shirt too, though. Keep it nice and clean. He'd take it off carefully, fold it just right. Set it on the shoes. Absently he started unbuttoning the tunic, his mind on what Piotr had told him. They had to go back. This couldn't go on forever. Jasio knew that he could cry about it, get upset about it, but none of that would do any good. It would all soon be over. He regretted making a fuss in the breakfast room. Piotr had done so much for him already. Jasio realized suddenly that he had never even said thanks. The man had been so kind - beyond anything that anyone had ever done for him before. In the bath. He'd tell Piotr in the bath. He'd try to be nicer. He wasn't a treasure, for sure. But at least he could try to make the man happy. As he thought about it, he realized that he so much wanted to just please this man. His shirt started to loosen, and slip down over his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, Jasio could see Piotr's form there in the pool, reclining back, his body half in and half out of the water. Shyly he wondered if the man were watching him. He thought he heard Piotr call out. Quickly he turned his head to look, and he froze. Piotr was indeed looking at him. Jasio took it all in at a glance. The same kind of look in the man's eyes that Leon got before he made the boy get down between his legs and suck him. And Piotr was hard again - it seemed like his whole body was suddenly rock-solid, laying there rigid in the water, with his huge cock sticking up like a weapon. Instantly Jasio felt the familiar tightness in his chest, but he also felt different - when Leon got that look, it might mean Jasio would get a beating. Sometimes he ran - especially if Leon had been drinking - but there was something that made him stay more often. The feeling that Leon somehow wanted him. That there was in fact at least some small thing in him that someone could want. Something that wasn't hated. Something that wasn't stupid. There was something different about the way Piotr looked, though. He didn't have the glare that Leon always had. There was the need there. The same kind of look of intensity - but with Piotr it was more a look of wanting than taking. Suddenly Jasio felt a flood of emotion. He wanted to reach out and give Piotr whatever it was that he needed. But what was it? What was it that made him look like that, so feverish and ... hungry ... but not threatening, like Leon? Jasio studied Piotr's gaze. Followed it. The man was fixated on him. On his shoulder. On his arm, there ... where the shirt had fallen down. Jasio breathed in in a rush, and quickly jerked his head back, looking forward blindly at the tiled wall before him. His fingers suddenly trembled on the buttons of his tunic. But they shook not from fear, as they sometimes did when Leon tried to possess him, but from something else. His heart was beating harder, pounding in his chest. The tightness traveled down to his stomach, and ... beyond. He felt it between his legs, like invisible fingers suddenly had a grip on his balls and were pulling them down, then squeezing them, then reaching up to cup his cock too, pushing up, in, causing the pressure to build up with him. His whole body shuddered. Piotr had gotten hard like that, looking at him! He knew it. He felt the man's gaze now. And for some reason it made him feel good and all trembly and weak at the knees and like ... if the man ... liked him, if the man wanted him, then .... "And then, sometimes, well, we get hard because of ... great emotion. Like when we see someone who's ... exciting to us, someone we like ..." Jasio heard Piotr's words echoing in his mind again. Someone we like .... The boy breathed audibly, forcing the air through his nose, letting it out in a halting release through his mouth. HE! HE, Glupi Jasio, had done this. Just by being here, standing here. He had caused Piotr to say it again - without words - that he liked Jasio .... Jasio glanced back at the man, trying not to turn his head too much, but straining to see. Piotr still lay there as if entranced. He too was breathing hard. He seemed to be laying back, forcing his cock up like one of the columns Jasio had planted in his Shadow Ring back at Jodlovka. Piotr seemed to be signaling to Jasio, whether he meant to or not - but with none of the anger and meanness of Leon - he just seemed to want to tell Jasio .... Again the feeling swept over the boy. This was what it felt like to be truly wanted! To be liked ... he looked again at Piotr, and felt himself suddenly wanting to rush to the man. If the man wanted him, wasn't it the right thing to do? But what if .... Jasio was afraid. Not the kind of fear that he would get with Leon, or any of the other men at Jodlovka. This fear wasn't for his safety. It was more like, just being afraid to do the wrong thing. He wanted to do only what was right for Piotr. To repay him. To show him that he liked him too. "Some men like the way you ... the way boys look, and that can make us hard too, so ...." He likes the way I look, Jasio knew it. He likes me! Then he knew what he wanted to do, and a calmness descended upon him. His fingers rested steady, clasping the last of the buttons on his tunic. Slowly, with infinite patience, still standing sideways to Piotr, he undid the button and pulled the shirt apart, letting it slide ever so slowly off his shoulders. Look at me, Piotr, he called out to the man silently, still feeling the man's eyes on him. Surely the man could hear him. They were making connection. He could swear he felt the man's soft, caressing touch on his shoulder and then falling down his back, just as the shirt revealed his flesh. His skin prickled. Even in the wamth within the building, he felt his skin tingle. He had always wanted Leon to touch him, for some reason. But that man's hand had always been heavy and brutal, holding his head down upon his man-sized cock. Now Jasio imagined Piotr's touch. So different! He let the shirt glide all the way down his arms, then swung it back around and slowly folded it. Just as slowly he bent at the waist and placed the shirt reverently upon the shoes, and stood upright again, wondering if Piotr liked that too. Did he like the shape of his shoulder? The arch of his back? What was it he liked? Very deliberately he turned his head once again, but this time he sought Piotr's eyes, and waited until the man was looking straight into his own. I'm going to continue, Piotr, he called out silently again, praying the man would hear him and understand. That the man would accept his ... gift. The man had called him a treasure. Then so be it. If some men liked boys. If some men like the way boys looked - If Piotr liked the way he looked, then ... Here ... I offer myself to you. Whatever I have of treasure, is yours .... Jasio placed his hands upon the buttons of his pants and felt the tautness there, realizing only then that the fabric was tight and lifted out over his own hardened cock. He hadn't even felt it stiffening ... or had he ... was that tightness, that gripping feeling the way Piotr felt? Was that what you felt when you liked someone? Would Piotr realize what Jasio felt too?