Date: Tue, 27 Sep 2016 01:40:07 +0000
From: Douglas DD <thehakaanen@hotmail.com>
Subject: Aiden: A New Beginning  Chapter 1

Welcome to the world of Aiden Miller, age nine. This is the first part of what
will be at least a two-part story. It will cover his life being uprooted as his
mother dies and he becomes the foster son of his uncles and how he deals
with living in a place he doesn't want to be—a small town where he knows
no one.

The story is a spinoff of the Mayfield Trilogy and a continuation of the story
"Rough Edges". You do not need to have read any of those stories to enjoy
reading about Aiden discovering himself as he learns to live a new life in a
strange, but exciting, environment.

This story is mine and is copyrighted. Please to not copy or repost it without
my written permission.

The story also contains sexual situations between minor boys. You should
be eighteen or older to move on.

CHAPTER 1
THE BOY AT THE WINDOW

Eleven-year-old Aiden sat impatiently at the front window of the house. He
kept looking out of the window, disappointed in the weather. The sky was a
dark gray as low clouds dropped a steady rain on the lawn and the street.
He pulled out his phone and checked the clock for what seemed like the
hundredth time in the last hour. He was surprised to see that only two
minutes had passed since the last time he'd checked it. Nolan wasn't due
for ten minutes, so why did it seem like he was an hour late?

The boy rose from the couch and walked into the big multi-purpose room
that served as a den, office, family room, and TV viewing room. He looked
out of the big picture window at the lake on the back side of the house. It
was as gray as the skies, empty of boats as the water skiers seemed to be
afraid of getting wet. He loved his home, but it hadn't always been that way.
He had been eight (almost nine) when he moved to the big house on the
lake. He was now eleven (almost twelve). He had long ago refused to admit
he was only eleven— as far as he was concerned he was almost twelve, at
least for two more weeks, when he would really be twelve.

He heard the sound of a car on the wet pavement and ran back into the
living room, disappointed when it drove past the house, a rooster tail of
water rising behind the car from the wet pavement. He looked at the time
again. He wondered why he was feeling the way he did. It's not like he
hadn't gone to a movie with a friend before—or with friends. So why did it
feel so different going with Nolan?

Was it because they had really gotten to know each other at a baseball
camp during the summer? Was it because going to the movie was the first
thing they were going to do together other than texting or talking on the
phone or sending each other IMs on their computers?

They didn't live in the same town—Nolan lived in Meadow Park, which was
about twenty miles away from Mayfield, where Aiden lived. But to the boys
it seemed like twenty light years. Through sports and some other functions,
they had become acquaintances. Their week at baseball camp had made
them so much more.

Aiden looked impatiently out of the window, wondering if this could be
called a date.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

There had been another time Aiden had sat looking out of a window waiting
for a car to come. It had  been raining on that day, as well. Both times
Aiden wondered why it was raining in August. The sun was supposed to
shine every day in August, or that was what he had been led to believe.

He was eight years old (almost nine) and was all but homeless. He'd lived
in this house for the last month with the Muncies, his foster parents. Now
he would be going to yet another foster home, and he wasn't looking
forward to it. He was tired of being bounced around; all he wanted was a
place he could call his own home with his own bedroom and his own
posters and pictures and games and closet and drawers and basketball
and a baseball glove and a television and a computer—all of the things
normal boys had.

But since his mom died his life had been anything but normal—not that it
had been all that normal before then. But at least they lived in their own
apartment, even if they had to move a few of times. While he never had his
own room, sleeping on the couch at night, he at least had his corner for his
books and other meager possessions. He knew his mom didn't make much
money, but he also knew she loved him and did her best. Still, his life
simply wasn't normal, and was less normal when her latest boyfriend came
by, or even worse, when his dad came by, which, thankfully, wasn't very
often.

Parker snuck up behind Aiden. "Boo!" he yelled as he punched the boy's
right shoulder at the same time. Aiden squealed with fright, then quickly
realized that the perpetrator was Parker.

Aiden hated Parker. During his one month in the Muncie residence Parker
had played the role of bully every time he thought he could get away with it.
Parker was thirteen and had lived with the Muncies for just over six months.

"I hate you, you fucktard," Aiden said angrily, his high-pitched boy voice
causing his cursing to lose its force.

"Ohh, listen to the little shit with his potty mouth," Parker smirked. He
punched Aiden's left shoulder.

"I'm going to a new home," Aiden reminded Parker with all of the force he
could muster with his soprano voice. "If you hit me again, I'm going to tell."
Aiden had kept Parker's bullying to himself. He didn't trust adults to handle
his problems, preferring to do it himself. Tim, the other boy in the home,
was eleven and did whatever Parker told him to do, which included picking
on Aiden. Now that he was moving out that day, he no longer cared about
telling his foster parents anything.

"Yeah, like Luke and Amy would ever do anything about it," Parker
laughed, referring to their foster parents. "And look at you," he spat out,
"going to live with a couple of queers. Even if you weren't already a little
faggot, they'd turn you into one—that's why they want a little cute boy like
you, so they can fuck your tight ass."

"I'm going to live with my uncles," Aiden said indignantly. He had a vague
idea of what Parker was talking about. His years of living in a one bedroom
apartment with men coming and going, as well as the rare times he was
around his father, had taught him a lot about the world.

He knew for example that Tim did sexual things for Parker, like playing with
his boner and sucking it. He'd caught Tim sucking Parker and jerking him
off a couple of times. Neither boy seemed phased about being caught.
When Parker would suggest that Aiden give him and Tim blow jobs, Aiden
would silently slink away.

As much as Parker enjoyed bullying the little boy, he was afraid that Aiden
might report being bullied into sex. Plus, after what Parker had done to Tim,
he realized that the little shit was tougher than he looked. But Parker would
suggest doing something sexual, hoping he could simply talk the boy into it.
He thought the little freckle-faced blond was sexy cute and often jerked off
to images of Aiden's lips wrapped around his cock. His cute little ass had to
be even tighter than Tim's, which Parker thought was amazing.

The closest Parker had come to molesting Aiden had been the week before
when Aiden forgot to lock the bathroom door and Parker stepped into the
shower with him. Aiden couldn't help but stare at the young teen's
throbbing four-inch erection and the small patch of pubic hair at the base of
his cock.

"You should always lock the door," Parker said. It was the first time he'd
seen Aiden naked, and the sight aroused him more than he had been when
he discovered the door was unlocked. "You never know who might walk in."

Aiden wondered why Parker's voice sounded so different; he was talking in
a hoarse whisper. His heart was thumping hard and fast in his chest and he
knew he had to get out of the shower or he could end up doing what he'd
seen Tim do.

"I better wash you," Parker rasped as he grabbed a bar of soap and started
soaping the eight-year-old's back. He quickly ran his hand down to the
blond's white ass and started soaping it.

Aiden quickly stepped away. "I better go," he said as he opened the shower
curtain.

"Okay," Parker said. As much as he wanted to touch the boy all over, he
was also afraid of being naked with him in the shower too long, increasing
his chance of being caught. He made no attempt to stop Aiden from
stepping out of the tub.

As he sat at the window, Aiden tried to ignore Parker and kept staring at
the falling rain, wondering when his uncles would show up. He knew that
two men being married and living together was weird, but it had to be better
than being stuck living with Parker.

Parker sat next to Aiden on the chair, squeezing the little boy against the
arm. "Only one of them is your uncle; the other one's his queer boyfriend."
Aiden said nothing. He sensed that if he said they were married it would
make things even worse.

Parker put his arm around Aiden's skinny shoulder. "You should have let
me fuck you when I wanted to. I would've got your ass in shape for you to
take their cocks. It's gonna hurt like hell when they take your cherry."

"Leave me alone," Aiden muttered. Parker was adding to his trepidation. A
couple of days ago he'd heard Luke telling Sarah, his wife, that it was
criminal that the state was letting an eight-year-old boy live with two
married queers. "They'll no doubt be molesting him within his first week
there. At least our foster boys are safe from all that child-molesting shit in
our house."

Aiden knew that Luke Muncie didn't have a clue about Parker and Tim
having sex or about Parker and Tim trying to make moves on him. Tim had
tried something with Aiden less than a week after he moved into the
Muncie residence. Even though Tim was eleven, he was not much bigger
than Aiden. The two boys were in the hall heading for the bathroom to take
care of evening toiletries. They were both wearing only briefs. Tim suddenly
grabbed for Aiden's cock through the flimsy cotton of his briefs. Aiden said
nothing; instead he punched Tim in the gut, doubling him over.

The punch earned him a royal chewing out from Luke Muncie and two
days' restriction, but as far as Aiden was concerned it was worth it. Tim left
him alone while Parker, who gained a little respect for the newcomer,
seemed to hassle him less than before.

"A couple more weeks here and you'd have been begging me to fuck you
just like Timmy does," Parker said as he dropped his hand down to the
waistband of Aiden's shorts and started slipping it inside, his fingers
pushing under Aiden's briefs and tickling his ass.

Aiden tried unsuccessfully to slap the arm away. "Get away from me or I'm
going to scream."

"I am so fucking scared." Parker eased a finger into Aiden's crack, using his
other hand to pull down the back of his shorts to expose the top of the cleft
between the little boy's cheeks. He then pulled down the front of his gym
shorts, exposing his boner and hanging balls to Aiden. The back of the
chair obstructed the view of anybody entering the room, but it was unlikely
Luke would leave his baseball game on TV to walk in. Amy was away
shopping and Parker didn't care what Tim saw happening since Tim was
his fuck toy.

"You like my big cock?" Parker asked as he stroked his four inches. "You
can suck it. You'll need the practice for your new home."

Parker wished Aiden wasn't leaving—he was such an incredibly sexy little
boy. He was confident that he would eventually wear the cute blond down.
Tim had been an easy conquest, but Aiden was proving to be difficult and
even a little intimidating at times. Parker worried about how far he could go
before Aiden ratted him out or even slugged him like he had Tim. But right
now, Parker was incredibly horny and wanted to get in the last word with
the arrogant little shit. If he had more time he'd play with the little pink hole
he'd seen in the shower. Instead, he moved his hand to get a quick feel of
his little package.

But he never got the chance. As his hand worked its way under the
waistband for the prize in the front of his shorts, Aiden took advantage of
an opening and plowed his fist into Parker's balls. The teen screeched in
pain.

"You little shit!" he yelled. "I should've kicked the crap out of you long ago."
He stood up, his junk still exposed.

"What's going on out here?" Luke scowled as he entered the room. Parker
didn't bother to pull up his shorts.

"I was trying to be nice to the little fucker since he's leaving and the asshole
punched me in the nuts." Parker rubbed his smooth ball sack. "It hurts like
hell."

"Go put some ice on it," Luke said lamely. He glared at Aiden. "I am so
happy you're leaving. You've been nothing but trouble since you got here.
You might look cute and innocent, but you ain't. Those faggots are getting
exactly what they deserve."

Aiden was about to say something when he noticed a blue SUV stop in
front of the house. "Looks like your ride is here," Luke grumped as he
headed for the kitchen to see how Parker was doing.

Aiden hadn't realized until Luke left that he'd all but quit breathing. He
quickly gulped some air and looked back out the window. It wasn't his two
"uncles" who stepped out, but rather his Uncle Troy. He smiled for the first
time that day, hoping that Uncle Troy was coming to take him home instead
of Uncle Phil and his husband.

He jumped off of the chair and ran to the door, opening it as his Uncle Troy
reached the porch. "Hi, Uncle Troy," Aiden grinned. He didn't even know
his dad had any brothers until he had been sent to live with the Muncies.
He met them once and liked his Uncle Troy. He liked his Uncle Phil, too,
until people started saying bad things about him.

"Hi, Sport," Troy ruffled the boy's thick blond hair as he entered the house.
Aiden's hair, which touched his ears on the side and came almost down to
his eyes in front, was now even more unruly than it had been before, if that
was possible.

"Are you coming to pick me up?" Aiden asked hopefully.

"No, just coming to see you off. I need to talk to Mr. Muncie, too."

"Luke's in the den watching TV," Aiden said. Troy didn't like the fact that
Aiden referred to his foster parent by his first name, but it wasn't his place
to say anything. Besides, Aiden would be out of this house real soon.

"There was a big accident down by Olympia. It's blocking the freeway and
your Uncle Phil is going to be a little late. I'll tell Mr. Muncie and then come
right back."

Troy went into the den where Luke Muncie was watching a baseball game.
He was sitting in a recliner while Tim and Parker were sitting on the couch.
Troy noticed that Parker had an icepack on his crotch.

"Hello, Mr. Muncie, I'm Troy Miller, Aiden's uncle."

"So you're finally here to take the brat away are you," Luke grumbled.

"Excuse me?"

"He's been here for a month and has been a total pain in the ass—argues
and fights all the time. Slugged Tim for no reason before he was here for a
week, and just punched Parker, here, in the nuts, for no good reason. You
got your hands full. You got the paperwork?"

Parker checked out Troy. "You don't look like a queer."

Troy ignored the comment from the annoying teen boy. "I don't have the
paperwork. His uncle Phil is picking him up. He's late because of an
accident on the freeway. I was going to meet him here and then take Aiden
to lunch."

"No wonder you don't look like a queer, cuz you ain't one," Parker said
knowingly.

"You shut your mouth," Luke barked.

Troy was certain that Aiden had a good reason for hitting the older, bigger,
boy in the balls, if for no other reason than he was extremely unlikeable.

"Well, as soon as you give me the paperwork, the boy is yours.  I know the
guys picking the boy up are your brother and his so-called husband. I don't
mean nothing personal, but I don't understand how the state can give the
boy to a couple of queers."

"That's right," Parker grinned.

Troy decided that Luke was an ignorant bigot and had no desire to pick a
fight with him. He was happy that his nephew was being taken out of what
was obviously a hostile environment. He was going to have a little chat with
Child Protective Services on Monday, however. Troy knew that his position
as a prosecuting attorney in the King County Prosecutor's office gave him a
bit more clout than the average complainer.

"Watch out for your balls," Parker yelled as Troy left the rec room. What
Parker needed more than a kick in the balls, Troy thought, was some swats
on his bare ass.

He returned to the living room where Aiden was watching the light rain
splatter off of the driveway and the street in front of the house. The boy
looked to be a jumble of emotions—sad, angry, frightened, confused, with a
few others thrown in.

"Are you okay, Aiden?"

"I hate it here. I can't wait to go. Why can't I live with you? You got two kids
and a normal family and I don't got nothing except a couple of boxes of
stuff." He pointed to three boxes on the floor: two of them contained clothes
and one had his favorite books. None of them had games and toys.

"The best place to be is with your Uncle Phil and Larry. They have more
room and more time to give you. And you'll love living in a small town and
living on a lake."

"I want a mom and a dad," Aiden stated with an air of finality.

"You liked Phil and Larry when we all met."

"Everybody says they're, like, queer and faggots and are gonna rape me."

"And just who might everybody be?" Troy asked. It was the standard
question he asked his own son when the name "everybody" appeared.

"You know, everybody...Parker and Luke and Amy, maybe even Tim.
Everybody here says it."

Troy looked at his little blond nephew. He was good looking boy with
longish, unruly blond hair, a sprinkling of freckles across his cheeks and
nose, piercing blue eyes, a slender body punctuated by a bubble butt that
made itself apparent through Aiden's shorts. But, there were also all of
those emotions roiling him, emotions that detracted from his innocent boy
looks.

Aiden wondered if he should tell his uncle about Parker always trying to
rape him, then decided not to—all that would do was create trouble and he
tried to avoid trouble with adults. Besides, he could always punch the queer
guys in the nuts like he did with Parker, or his mother's boyfriend Carl.
Then he could run away and find a place where a real family wanted him.

"I hate them and I hate you," Aiden said.

"You certainly hate a lot of people for somebody so young," Troy stated
quietly.

"I'm gonna be nine next week, so I ain't so young. But I won't have a
birthday party because nobody would come anyway because I don't have
no friends."

Troy couldn't help but grin thinking of the grammar corrections his nephew
would be receiving from his brother Phil and his school-teacher husband.
"There will be a party," Troy told Aiden. "I will be there, and so will your
cousins."

"They're my age, right?"

"Chase is eleven and Logan is eight."

"Tim is eleven and I don't like him. I had to punch him because he tried to
grab my balls." As far as Troy was concerned that was a good enough
reason for punching somebody in the gut.

Aiden glared out the window, waiting for his uncle to yell at him for hitting
Tim. But, his uncle sat saying nothing. Aiden finally turned and looked at
him.

"Are you mad at me for saying that?"

"It sounds like you were trying to protect yourself."

"I hate it here."

Before Troy could interject another comment, his phone started playing a
Bach organ fugue. He saw that Larry was calling.

"We should be there in half an hour," Larry told him.

"We will be ready for you. This place is depressing. We'd leave now and
meet you, but you have the paperwork."

"I'm glad you were able to sit with Aiden. How is he doing?"

Troy looked at the sullen look that was marring the boy's cute face. "He is
not a happy camper, right now."

"Gotcha. See you soon."

"Who isn't a happy camper?" Aiden asked.

"You. You don't look happy at all."

"I'm not camping, I'm sitting on a chair. I never been camping."

"It's just a saying to describe somebody who is unhappy with what is going
on."

"Did Luke tell you I punched Parker in the balls?" Troy was starting to get
used to Aiden's frequent changes of topic.

"He did."

Aiden got out of the chair, walked over to Troy and sat next to him on the
couch.

"He had his hand in my pants and was going to touch me down there. I
hate him. Uncle Phil better not do it, or I'll kick him in the balls. I've done
that to somebody, too."

Troy could see that they had a lot to learn about his nephew's background.
They knew very little so far. He and Phil didn't even know their brother
Keegan had a son until a little over a month ago. Since then, things had
been happening quickly. I wonder what Phil and Larry have gotten
themselves into, he thought. Maybe the right thing to do would have been
for him to take custody of the boy.

He shook off that thought. Having gay foster parents would be different, not
wrong. And there was no question that the environment in their home
would be a major improvement over the street and the shelters and the
hovels he'd been living in. It would be an improvement over this sorry
excuse for a foster home, as well.

"Hug me," Aiden whispered, fearful that he would be turned down.

Troy put his arm around the boy's shoulder and hugged him tight against
his body. The boy's little body shook and Troy soon felt the dampness of
tears on this shirt.

Luke wandered into the living room. "Still here?" he asked.

"Larry and Phil will be here in a half-hour or so."

"What's the boy crying about?"

"His name is Aiden," Troy growled. "He has a name, try using it."

"I don't need you to tell me how to treat the boys in my home. The state is
happy with what me and Amy do here. He's a little trouble maker and to me
a boy's gotta be civilized to have a name."

Troy could feel his face burning with anger. He wanted to ask the asshole if
he ever asked Aiden why he'd gotten violent with the other two boys. But,
this wasn't the time and place for an argument. He'd deal with the problem
through proper channels.

"He's got all his junk in those boxes. Make sure to close the door when you
leave." Luke left the living room and headed back to the rec room.

Aiden had heard everything, of course. Everybody always thought he was a
troublemaker. His mother thought so, her friends where they stayed
thought so, her boyfriends thought so, his teachers thought so. Only his
dad didn't think so, but he hardly ever saw him, and when he did he was
usually wasted on drugs and booze.

After what seemed like forever, a silver Honda Accord pulled up into the
driveway. Larry and Phil got out and came to the door, where Troy let them
in. Luke quickly signed the paperwork, took his copies, and went back to
the rec room, not bothering to say anything to Aiden.

"Hi, Aiden," Phil said. "It's good to see you again. Are you all set to head for
your new home?"

"I'm gonna hate it," Aiden said. Phil and Larry could both see that he was in
a far different space than the sweet boy they met at the CPS office had
been.

"What's with the tears?" Phil asked.

Aiden's answer was a barely audible mutter. "I hate you and I hate it here
and I hate everybody."

Phil looked over at Troy, who, with a shake of his head, let Phil know he
should just let things ride for now. Phil respected his older brother, who had
been a father figure to him as he grew up.

"Things will be just fine, kiddo." Phil put his arm around Aiden, but removed
it when Aiden pushed it away.

Phil, Larry, and Troy picked up the boxes and placed them in the trunk of
the Honda. As Phil started to close the trunk, Aiden stopped him and pulled
a book out of one of the boxes.

"You can close it now," Aiden told him. He sat in the back seat.

"I'll meet you guys at the restaurant," Troy told them.

Troy walked over to his SUV. He looked over at the front door of the house.
It was wide open; he hadn't bothered to shut it. As the two vehicles pulled
away from the curb, everybody but Aiden missed Parker standing at the
door flipping them a double bird.

Next: Uncles