Date: Thu, 21 Sep 2006 18:04:06 -0700
From: qwb <qwb@san.rr.com>
Subject: Stonegate Stables chapter 18

    As promised, he called me every night.  I lay on the
couch in the dark den with the phone in my lap, flipping it
open quickly when it rang, not wanting to miss a second of
his voice.  He never said where he was or what he was doing,
just that he was okay and that he loved me.  Although I told
him that I loved him too, the phone calls did little to fill
the void.  I slept poorly and didn't even indulge myself in
bedtime orgasms - Vincent had apparently taken my sex drive
with him, along with my heart.

    I left that Thursday for the next-to-last GP, back in
CA again, but this time in the Monterey area.  I was in
pretty sorry shape emotionally and Adam stuck close when he
was free.  We spent the nights together, usually with Adam
curled around me from behind, trying to be some comfort to
me.

     Saturday night we snuggled for a while, then Adam
kissed me deeply and my body responded.  It had been twelve
days since Vincent had left.  Twelve days since I'd had an
orgasm, and raw need suddenly surged through me.  I pulled
Adam onto me, grabbed his ass, and held him tight against me
as I thrust my cock across the hard ridges of his stomach.
He responded immediately, pushing my legs apart with his own
to get us closer and letting his weight add to the friction
between us.  It didn't take long and I came so hard I
thought my heart was gonna stop, bucking under Adam like
Calvin on a bad day.  Afterwards he took us both into the
shower and kept me there until the hot water and his gentle,
soapy hands calmed me down enough to sleep.

     I felt better in the morning, not 100%, but good enough
to be interested in winning.

     That didn't happen, but Cal took 2nd again, with Donna
3rd.  It was a good win by Adam.  He ran through the jumpoff
like his ass was on fire and it paid off, beating me by a
full half second.  We stayed sober that night, laying awake
talking for a long time in the dark, him on his back with my
arm and leg across him, my face in the curve of his neck.
He stroked his hand along my back, up and down again,
occasionally cupping my butt gently for a moment.

     Adam thought he was in love with Dylan, as I'd
suspected, but hadn't said anything to him.  Although he was
four years older than Adam, Dylan was younger emotionally,
still partying in town a couple nights a week.  Adam, on the
other hand, had traveled the country for years and was ready
to settle down with a steady partner and begin making
memories.

    He was a good man, gentle and strong, and it bothered
me to think of him pining away for Dylan, but Adam was
philosophical about it, hopeful that things would eventually
work out.

    It made me think of Vincent waiting for me all those
years.  I told Adam how Vincent had finally given me an
ultimatum and Adam agreed it might come to that, but not
just yet.  For now he was content sleeping with Dylan
occasionally and entertaining himself with TJ or Vincent and
I when Dylan was busy.

    I confided everything about Vincent's attack, the bad
dreams, the night he'd hit me, his departure, everything,
and he listened quietly, asking a question now and then.
When I finished and heaved a big sigh, he rolled to me.

     "What Vincent went through is something you and I can
only imagine.  You need to let him do this."  When I began
to protest, he pressed his fingers to my mouth.  "He said
he'd come back and you know he will, Sean.  He loves you
like I can only hope someone will love me some day.  Be
there for him when he gets home."

     I fell asleep thinking about what Adam had said and
gradually I felt better.  It would have ruined us going on
the way we were, and I saw that our only hope was for him to
do what he could to finish it.

    All this mental cheerleading was great until another
week went by, the last two days of which Vincent didn't
call.  I had no idea where he was or what might keep him
from calling me and, of course, only the worst possible
scenarios ran through my head.

     Finally, Jesse called in a hurry, saying only that
everything was okay and they'd be home in a day or two.  He
wouldn't give me any details and his call didn't go far
toward making me feel better.

     By the third night without talking to Vincent, I was a
basket case, pacing the long hall from the kitchen to the
den, willing the phone to ring, praying that he was safe.  I
knew nothing about Ray, how dangerous he was, what Vincent
was headed for when he drove away that night.  I finally
wore myself out and lay down on the couch.

     I was just dozing off, staring into the fire, when the
gate alarm dinged.  Only Vincent, Dylan, and Jesse had gate
codes.  Dylan was out of town and I wasn't expecting Jesse.
I sat up, every nerve ending alert, my ears straining for
the sound of the car.

     Then I heard it, the throaty growl of his BMW as it
pulled up to the front of the house.  My heart tripped into
double time and I ran to the front door, yanking it open
just as he stepped onto the porch.

     My cry of greeting never made it past my lips as I
stopped in total shock at the sight of him.  If I hadn't
known it was Vincent by the car, I'm not sure how long it
would have taken me to recognize him.

     His head was shaved, he'd let his beard come in, and
his left eye was swollen almost shut with a rainbow of muddy
colors surrounding it.  He smiled at me and it turned into a
grin as he saw my astounded expression.

     "Hey, babe."

    At the sound of his deep, warm voice, my feet unglued
themselves from the floor and I leaped into his outstretched
arms, knocking him back a few steps.  "Oh, God, you're
home!"

    He grabbed me into a huge hug, lifting me off my feet
and laughing as I wrapped my legs around him.  "Goddamn,
it's good to see you."

     I couldn't let go of him.  I dropped my feet to the
porch and hung onto him while the empty place in my heart
filled back up.  My face was buried in his neck and the
familiar smell of him made me dizzy.  I felt my cock begin
to fill as he stopped laughing and gathered me to him, his
arms softening into a close embrace.  There were a million
things I wanted to say to him, but after my initial
outburst, I couldn't find my voice.

     He had no such problem, talking non-stop as he gripped
my shoulders and stared into my face from six inches away.
"I missed you so fucking much."  His voice was rough with
emotion and his mouth slid up my neck as he backed me across
the threshold into the entryway, kicking the door shut with
his foot.  I was locked onto his eyes as he guided us into
the house, my heart pounding so hard in my chest I thought
he must be able to see it through my shirt.

     "All I could think about driving home was getting my
hands on you.  I've been rock hard for two solid hours."  He
kept walking until we were on the deep carpet of the hall,
groping each other with eager hands.

     "I've gotta have you now," he said as he ripped the
buttons on my jeans open.  My pants dropped to the floor and
I got one foot out of them as he pulled his cock out of his
fly; he was hard as I've ever seen him, the head of his cock
dark red and dripping.  He hooked a foot around the back of
my leg, dropped to his knees and caught me as I went over,
crawling onto me as I hit the floor.

    "Come here," he growled, grabbing my face with steely
fingers.  Our mouths locked together again, his weight
pressed me into the carpet, and as his erection rubbed along
mine, I began to climax in huge, shuddery convulsions that
shook our kiss loose and left me gasping.  He stroked into
the wet heat of my cum a couple times, then his face twisted
with a deep groan and he erupted between us, sliding through
it all as he pumped himself empty.

     He collapsed onto me and laughed weakly.  "Jesus, did I
need that."

    I lay there until I had enough breath back to speak.
"God it's good to have you home.  I missed you so much."  I
pushed him up off me a little so I could look at him again
and suddenly I couldn't shut up. "Are you alright?  What
happened to your eye?  Why did you shave your head?  Where's
Jesse?  God, I love you."

     He laughed and silenced me with a kiss.  "I'll tell you
everything later.  Right now I just want to be with you and
not think about anything but how good you look.  More than
anything, I missed just seeing your face every day."  He
cupped a hand to my cheek and leaned down to my mouth,
licking his way across my lower lip, then probing between my
lips with his tongue.  "I love you, Sean, and I'm never
leaving you again."

     We lay there for a bit, then pulled our pants the rest
of the way off and went up to bed.  He made love to me
somewhat more slowly than in the hall, but still with an
urgency that had us grasping each other too hard, our kisses
bruisingly passionate.  He fucked me roughly and I loved
every second of it, needing to feel him in me, on me.

     By the time we came, we were breathless and almost
fighting each other in our need for comfort and release from
the tension of the past three weeks.  When he stopped
shaking, I pulled him into the shower and washed every inch
of him, letting my hands reassure my heart that he was
really home.  The hair on his head was just starting to come
in, soft dark fuzz that felt like velvet under my hand.

     Afterward, we lay in bed on our sides, knees bumping,
holding hands, and touching each other's chests and faces.
I was fascinated with his beard, nuzzling my face into him
and running my fingers through the thick black hair.  He lay
still watching me for a long time and I could see him begin
to really relax.  Finally, he smiled a little.  "You sent
Jesse after me, didn't you?"

     "I just told him you'd left.  He found you?"

    "He sure did, and we found Ray together.  The police
have him.  That's why I look like this.  I was arrested
along with him and would probably still be in the slammer
except for Jesse."

     He told me the whole story then.  He had gone to Dallas
and Jesse had caught up with him the next morning.  Vincent
wanted to check the clubs Ray used to take him to and that
paid off cause after a few days they found a kid who was one
of Ray's 'boys', kids he raped like he had Vincent, then
turned loose on the streets to work for him.  The kid wanted
out desperately and told them where Ray lived.

     They checked it out, and then went to the local police
who agreed to Vincent getting inside.  He shaved his head
and waited a few days for his beard to grow in, then set up
a scenario with the kid to get into Ray's house.  The whole
thing would probably have worked great, except that a
federal agency had a sting operation going, part of a
nationwide crackdown on child prostitution.  Vincent got
arrested in the raid and spent two nights in jail before
Jesse and the local cops could convince the feds that he was
one of the good guys.  He would have to go back to testify
at the trial, but Ray would never see daylight again, so we
were free of him.

     Vincent fell asleep easily and slept through the night,
waking up before me and sucking me first to consciousness,
then into oblivion as I lost myself in his mouth.  He
grinned at me, his lips shiny with my cum as I pulled him up
to me, overjoyed to have him whole and healthy again.  It
took us an hour to get out of bed and we emptied the Kleenex
box while we were at it.

     In the shower, he scrubbed a bar of soap over his head,
grimacing at the feel.  He stilled, watching me carefully as
I ran my fingers across the hardness of his skull and I felt
a little tingle in my nuts.

     "Shave it."  I swallowed hard.  "Please."

     He smiled slowly at me, his eyes narrowing, leaned
forward to kiss me with lots of tongue, and then handed me
the razor.  When I was finished, he stuck his head under the
spray, then pulled back for me to take a look, eyebrows
raised.  My mouth dropped open and he grinned.  I'd never
been much into the skinhead look, but on Vincent, it had me
hard in a heartbeat.  Back to bed we went and it was nearly
10 when we finally dove into cold cereal, too hungry to make
anything more complicated.

    Over breakfast, he told me they had brought the kid,
Matt, home with them.  He was with Jesse now, but Vincent
wanted me to meet him.  I watched him closely as he talked
about Matt, his voice quiet, his eyes restless.  Matt had
been 15 when Ray first got hold of him, two years younger
than Vincent, and had been on the streets for a few months
before that.  He was now 17 and Jesse was doing a background
check on him, seeing if he had family, a police record, etc.

     When they came over that afternoon, Matt went straight
to Vincent, standing close to him, not meeting my eyes, even
when Jesse introduced us.

     He was a skinny kid, all knobby shoulders and saggy
jeans hanging from his bony hips; about Vincent's height,
but at least 30 pounds lighter.  His pale brown hair was
clean but hacked off raggedly, as though he'd done it
himself without benefit of a mirror or sharp scissors.  In
many ways, he reminded me of Barney, the neglected Henderson
horse we rescued, tattered and abused but with some
potential.  As ratty as he was, there was something about
him that made you watch him and wonder what he'd look like
with a few more pounds on him.

     He didn't talk much and when he did, it was in an
undertone to Vincent or Jesse, who were sitting on either
side of him on the sofa in the den.  I knew that what they'd
been through had created a bond that I didn't share and I
felt like a distinct outsider.  I went into the kitchen to
get us something to eat.  Vincent followed and after
watching me ignore him for a few minutes, took my shoulder
and turned me to him, pinning me against the counter with
his hips.

     "He's young and scared.  He'll warm up to you."

     "I'll live," I told him. "It's just an afternoon."

     He was silent for a long moment and I suddenly
understood that this was much more than 'just an afternoon'.
"What's goin' on?"  I asked him.

     "He trusts me."

    "So do I," I reminded him, trying not to sound like a
jealous jerk, but starting to feel like one.

     He glanced up at me, holding my gaze with serious eyes.
"I want him to stay with us for a while.  He needs what we
can provide.  Safety, stability.  Love."

    I remained silent and he pushed away from me, moving
restlessly around the kitchen.  "Sean, I had no one.  I can
help this kid.  We can help him."

     "Did you sleep with him?"  I asked it softly although I
was pretty sure of the answer.

     "Yes."  He walked back over to me, crowding me a little
until I met his eyes.  "But I didn't have sex with him.
After we found him, he stayed with Jesse and me, and he
slept in my bed.  He was terrified and I held him while he
had nightmares, the way you did for me."

     I looked away from him, uncomfortable with the
reminder, and he wandered off again.  "I knew I wasn't the
only kid Ray did that to, but I didn't do anything about
it."  He turned to face me from across the room.  "I need to
do this.  I know I've asked a lot of you lately.  Of us.
Just one more thing.  Please."  I could hear the strong
emotion, the plea, in his voice.

     I looked at him, his dark eyes steady on my face,
thought about what he'd been through, how much I loved him,
and I knew that he would never hesitate if I asked something
of him.  I walked to him, put my hands on his shoulders, and
pressed my forehead to his.

     "Tell me what you want me to do."

     "Oh God, Sean.  I love you so much."  He pulled back a
little to look at me.  "Thank you."  He wrapped me up for a
long hug and the feel of him against me worked its usual
magic.  As long as I had Vincent next to me, I felt like I
could do anything, be whatever he needed me to be.

     "Just be yourself.  He needs to see that men can be
gentle and loving with each other, like you and I are
together.  I think just being around us will work wonders."

     I nodded, wondering what we were getting ourselves
into.  Matt had been on the streets for more than two years;
you don't come out of something like that unscathed.  He
could rob us blind in the middle of the night.  Maybe he was
into drugs, as skinny as he was.  God knows.

     "Give me some time to catch up to your feelings for
him."  I was sincere in wanting to help Vincent with Matt,
but right now, I only wanted the rest of the world to go
away for a while as Vincent and I put our lives back
together.  Right at that moment, I didn't want to share
Vincent with anyone else.

     We took a couple trays of sandwiches and drinks back to
the den and this time Vincent sat down on the floor at my
feet, leaning back against the chair between my knees.  Matt
watched him, but didn't leave the couch and the security of
Jesse.  We ate and talked a while longer, then Jesse got up
to leave.  Matt stood nervously and followed Jesse to the
door, looking back to make sure Vincent was nearby.  As
Jesse drove away, I could see Matt wilt a little.

     I walked a few steps closer to him with the warmest
smile I could conjure up.  "Wanna go pick a room?"  He gave
me a frightened glance that barely touched my eyes when he
nodded.

     I moved toward the stairs and waited for him to follow.
He had brought a paper bag with him and the sight of that
poor kid clutching a crumpled paper sack that contained
everything he owned in the world tightened my chest to the
point of tears.  I turned away from him, clenching my teeth
hard, and walked up the stairs.  He trailed along behind me
with Vincent following a bit further back.  I stopped in the
center of the hall and gestured with my hand.  "Our room is
at the end of the hall.  There's a room near ours, and a
couple more at the other end.  You can pick whichever one
you'd like.  Want to see them?"

     He shook his head, his eyes downcast, and lifted a hand
slightly away from his leg, down the hall toward our room.
I turned in that direction and stopped at the door to the
large room that had a view of the back of the property, as
ours did.  He glanced inside, then edged past me, and set
his sack on the bed, looking around him.

     The room was done with my folks' old furniture, a
walnut bedroom set, heavy and dark against the soft blue of
the walls.  A large over-stuffed chair sat in one corner
near the small fireplace, a cozy corner for chilly winter
nights, and a corner cabinet held my previous TV and stereo
equipment.

     He took all this in silently while Vincent and I
watched from the doorway.  He sighed deeply, then walked
over to me and met my gaze for the first time.

     "Thank you."  This was the first look I'd gotten at his
eyes.  They were a deep greenish blue, heavily lashed, too
old for his face, and with a sudden rush of awareness, I saw
past the boy he was, to the man he would become.

    It was almost a whisper when I said, "Matt, I promise
you'll always be safe here.  No one will ever hurt you."  I
wanted to pull him into a hug, or even just touch his hand,
but knew that it was way too soon for that. He nodded and
started a slight smile before he remembered he didn't know
me very well.  He hitched a bony shoulder and walked over to
look in the bathroom.

    "We'll eat around 7.  Do whatever you like 'til then.
You can come down and help if you want, around 6."  He
nodded and I left him standing there in the middle of the
room.

     Vincent and I had a glass of wine in the den, curled up
on the couch together.  He'd been home almost 24 hours and
we still couldn't keep our hands off each other.  We went in
to the kitchen around 6 to start dinner and I didn't hear
him come in, but when I turned around to get the salad stuff
from the fridge, Matt was standing in the doorway.

    I tipped my head toward the fridge.  "Hey, Matt.  You
wanna make us a salad?  There's lettuce and some other
stuff."

     I was sitting at the island, working on the shish
kabobs, stacking chunks of chicken, onion, little tomatoes,
pineapple, zucchini and red pepper onto wooden skewers.  I
glanced at him once; he was methodically patting dry the
carrots he'd washed.  He worked across the island from me
and I looked up now and then, but he was immersed in his
work; peeling and chopping.  A bit later, he asked me where
bowls were and I pointed to a cupboard.  Other than that, he
silently made three great salads, full of things I liked,
but rarely bothered with like raisins and chopped pecans.
Someone, somewhere, had fed this kid pretty good at some
point in his life.

     He helped Vincent with the grilling, basting the kabobs
with Italian dressing each time Vincent turned them.  He was
easy with Vincent, smiling at him when Vincent said
something that amused him.  I noticed Vincent moved slowly
when he touched Matt, putting a hand on his arm now and
then, patting his shoulder when he came inside for another
platter.  Vincent smiled at me, stopping on his way back
outside to nuzzle into my face and kiss his way from the
corner of my mouth to my ear.  I knew a 'thank you' when I
felt one and returned his kiss warmly, wanting him to know I
was truly okay with Matt being here.

     Dinner was kind of quiet; Matt was silent while I
filled Vincent in on the GPs he had missed.  We cleared the
table, me putting leftovers in containers and Matt drying
while Vincent washed.  It was odd having another person with
us, but not uncomfortable.  For all his silence, he didn't
seem to be an unfriendly boy, just quiet and withdrawn,
which I suppose he had good reason to be.

    We headed for the den, assuming our usual positions,
Vincent lying back against an arm of the couch, me between
his legs.  Matt stood watching us until we were settled,
sitting down a few feet away when I patted the cushion next
to me.  Vincent pulled me in for a long hug, smiling at Matt
over my shoulder as he did so.  We turned on the tube and
got lost in a movie.

     When I stretched out a little, my bare foot came up
against Matt's thigh.  I didn't move it and after a moment,
I felt the light touch of his hand as he rested it on my
ankle.  He shifted around a bit, slouching down to lay his
head against the back of the couch and prop his feet up on
the coffee table, but he never moved his hand from my leg.
Figuring that too many men had had their hands on him
already, I was going to let him get comfortable touching me.

    After the movie, we all went up to bed.  Matt stopped
at the door to his room, looking at me with a ghost of a
smile around his mouth.

     "Thanks for lettin' me stay here," he said softly.
Vincent tousled his hair and walked on into our room.  I
smiled back at Matt, not saying anything.  Gradually his
smile widened into the real thing.  His face was almost
delicate with high cheekbones and a wide mouth that curled
up slightly at the corners, even when he wasn't smiling.

     "Sleep good," I told him and followed Vincent to bed.
Matt had closed his door all but a few inches and I closed
ours about halfway, so that we could hear him, but he
couldn't see our bed from the doorway.

     Sometime in the early morning, I woke to an empty bed.
Our door was open and I walked into the hall, peeking into
Matt's room.  He was curled into Vincent's arms, crying
softly.  Vincent raised his eyes to me and in the light from
the hall, I saw that they were wet as well.  I watched them
until Vincent turned his face to Matt's, then I went back to
bed.

     Vincent didn't come back to our room that night.  I
imagined that in time, I would be playing the same role of
protector to Matt, but right now, my bed was empty and I
wasn't happy about it.  I grabbed Vincent's pillow to me and
tried to fall asleep.