Date: Tue, 12 Aug 2008 12:37:28 -0500
From: Andy Smith <andyoutwest@live.com>
Subject: Asleep on the Beach Chapter 18

Asleep on the Beach

Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Please be advised that under aged youths are advised to not
read this material; There are sexual encounters ahead by youngsters in this
story.  If this offends you, perhaps you should not have read this far, and
I certainly would not advise continuing further.  Everyone else is welcome.

Writer's Note: Thanks for the support, encouragement, and emails!  I'm
really enjoying meeting so many of you.  A special hello to my buddy,
Kevin!  This chapter is dedicated to you!

A couple of editorial comments; Someone wrote me and suggested I may have
offended some native Texans with my description of Galveston Bay (simply
wouldn't do to offend Native Texans).  None was intended...not sure I
actually called the waters dirty: if you got that impression it is the
WRONG one!  The waters in the Gulf of Mexico are silty, and thus have a
brownish/gray hue to them.  This is just the nature of shallow waters of
the Gulf, they aren't "dirty" but certainly look differently than waters
off the Atlantic and Pacific.  Anyone who has jumped off a pier in remote
places like...Port Al Jubayl, Saudi Arabia, for example, know that the Gulf
of Mexico waters aren't exactly pristine.  Still...the experiences on
Galveston Bay and the 600 miles of Texas beaches are well worth the effort
to visit.  Everyone of you are welcome to come experience some Texas
hospitality anytime!

Next, I want to address my propensity to "talk" while involved in
emotionally charges settings.  This trend is not only a character flaw I
posses myself, it is intrinsic to our main character, Liam.  The human mind
has an uncanny knack to keep right on wandering around and bumping into
shit exactly when it should be focused!  I don't intend to distract you and
deprive you of the emotional thrill or crash (depending upon the
situation), but it is the way this youngster's mind works...and mine too!
We'll both work on the "emotional sabotage," as it's been aptly labeled.
Now then, on with the story!

Any comments are welcomed: prompt and courteous replies from:
andyoutwest@live.com


	Prologue

	A long evening of social circumstances followed by family crises
was ended by quite a sweet fulfillment of longing and desires.  Morning
broke with Liam and Jason re-affirming that this was no passing moment for
them.  Next, we finally get to learn more of just how this new awareness is
settling in on Liam's Mom, and we'll learn a bit about Jason's family
situation as well.





	Chapter 18


       Sitting at the table I found myself nursing a very hot cup of
coffee.  How did this happen?  I don't even like this sh...oopps!  I have
made a personal pledge to watch my language after I realized what goes on
in my head is coming out of my mouth...at the most inappropriate
times...like in front of Mom and Dad!  Okay, where was I...ahhh...Coffee?!
I don't even like this stuff.  Ummm...wonder if Dad will let me...

       "Here," Dad said, I suppose my reaction to the coffee was pretty
obvious, "add a couple of spoons of sugar (no...most American families
don't have `lumps' of sugar...guess that is for you Brits out there), and a
bit of milk.  That should make it more palatable for you.  I don't know why
you asked for coffee if you can't drink it."  He said this all the while
doctoring up my cup.

       "Ask for it?"

       "Yes...Ask for it! That WAS you asking for coffee two seconds ago,
wasn't it?"

       "Oh, ummm...yea."  Guess I'm more stressed than I thought...maybe
coffee IS a good choice.

       Jason was sipping a cold glass of OJ, so I reached over and took a
swig without asking so I could wash down that godaweful taste in my mouth.
Don't worry...we shared each other's drinks all our lives!  We never even
asked each other anymore...if one of us was thirsty he'd just take a drink
of the other's "stuff."  I know...we're weird...but at least NOW we were
kissing...so it's mute anyway.

       Dad finished working over my cup, and then he set a glass of OJ in
front of me too.  He's always a step ahead of me.  Still, after that, we
were all sitting at the kitchen table and there was a very strained silence
between the four of us.  It was maddening.  I wanted to yell at my parents
to just get it over, but I seriously didn't want them to either.  *Sigh*

       Mom looked like a wreck.  She hadn't put on her day-clothes yet,
still wrapped in her gown and robe.  Her hair wasn't put up, but down and
pulled back behind her ears.  Obviously, she wore no make-up yet, and her
eyes were all puffy from what could only have been hours of stress and
crying.  I felt so guilty for putting her through all this.  My mind still
couldn't work out how she got into my room last night in the first place.
The more I pondered on it, the more certain I was that we had locked the
door before we got into the bed.  I believe both Jason and I knew (hoped)
we would end up making love during the night...what boy in his right
thinking mind would leave a chance for his parents to walk in on a romp in
the sack with another boy?  NOT ME!  *Good grief* Still, the thought of my
parents barging into my room without knocking or ignoring the lock on the
door was beginning to really make me angry.  I mean, I know we shouldn't
have been stupid enough to mess around with them so close and with the risk
of getting caught in the very act...but still...it wasn't right. But, how
could I fight that fight when they certainly wouldn't listen now that we'd
been caught doing what they wouldn't want me locking the stupid door for in
the first goddamed place!  (Grrr...sorry).

       This reminded me just how deep the hole was that Jason and I were
in.  It was a grave.  No need to dig another, this one will work just fine
as is, thanks though!

       Even with the stress of the impending deathblow, which I sensed
would be dropping at any moment, just the fleeting memory of me and Jason
making love last night...and what we did this morning gave me an instant
boner.  *Drat* (Is that better?)  THIS is not the time or place for a
woody.  *Grrr*

       I leaned slightly to Jason, who was sitting at my right, and he
sensed my movement and leaned absent mindedly toward me at the same time,
we were now leaning on each other's shoulders.  I put my hand under the
table, and Jason did too – so I reached for is hand, found it, and
brought it to my lap so he could feel my woody.  He squeezed it slightly,
then pulled my hand over to his lap...he was hard too!  Damn!  (Oopps –
sorry).

       I blushed when I looked up and Dad was staring straight at me...I
felt like he had x-ray vision and could see directly through the table!
OMG.  I quickly moved my hand back to my lap and adjusted my boner as best
I could and blushed all the deeper as Dad's eyes seemed to move with my
movement...I nearly KNEW he knew what I'd been doing.  My ears were hot.

       Dad cleared his throat, then looked at Mom who was continuing to
stir her coffee (Dad obviously didn't think she was incapable of drinking
doctored coffee `cause hers looked just as milky brown as mine!
Only...she'd been stirring it for as long as me and Jason had been down
stairs...I just realized that.  That she was deep in thought was doubtless
to all at the table.

       "Boys," he said as he turned back to face me and Jason, "Your mother
(obviously talking to me, but not correcting the thought that Jason wasn't
really my brother...Damn...that would be too weird...could I make love to
my own brother if Jason was my brother instead of boyfriend?  I shuttered
involuntarily at the thought...Dad thought I was thinking something
entirely different though)...Wait, let me talk before you interrupt."  His
voice was stern, serious, but not angry.

       I started to reply, opened my mouth to...but closed it without
uttering a word.  Silence is golden...remember?

       "Boys," he continued, "we need to talk.  Mom saw some things last
night that we just have to talk about.  I don't know what the two of you
were doing last night...Okay...perhaps I do, but I'm certain I don't WANT
to know...but whatever it was, your Mother was brought into it."  I
swallowed hard, the downward pressure on my chest, shoulders, and self was
palpable...the room was suddenly 100 times smaller.  I felt as though the
table was shrinking, and me and my chair were growing exponentially; like I
was as big as the giant in Jack in the Beanstalk, and that everyone around
me was as small as Jack and that blasted golden goose!

       Mom interrupted Dad though...everything screeched to a sudden halt
at her words.  She wasn't yelling...that would have been better.  There
were tears in her voice, I could feel them, hear them, knew they were
there...even if they weren't falling from her face...they were there.
Between us.  I caused them.  I can't remember the last time I made Momma
cry.  I feel guilty.

       "Do you remember the time both of you boys had the chicken-pox
together?" Mom said in barely more than a whisper.  Her voice was dry,
raspy...like...like she was living after the death of a child.  She was
scarring me...it felt like she was talking to ghosts.  I was the dead
child...I'd killed her little boy...he no longer existed.  What she had
left was not what she started with – the proof was there in her sunken
eyes, there in her raspy voice.  She'd given up...turned loose.

       Jason and I looked at each other and nodded silently in unison, then
looked back at her. "I stayed home with you boys, because your Mom had to
work," she said this obviously to Jason...but continued without comment
from him, "I bathed you both together in the tub...you both always liked to
share a bath anyway.  After your baths, I got you both dressed in PJs and
but you both in Liam's bed.  After nearly two hours of reading the same
Pokey Little Puppy book, or Peter Rabbit, I finally got you two sleep.  I
kissed you both on the head and tucked you in...

       "When I came in to check on you...did you know I always look in on
you Liam?  Always have, you know...every single night, I get up and go look
to make sure you are safe...breathing...covered.  I've watched you out grow
your crib, baby-bed, toddler bed and youth bed.  I watched you grow to the
nice bed your Daddy bought you last year.  So much has changed...

       "I came in to check on you boys that night and you know what I saw?"
Again, Jason and I looked at each other in silence...blank faced we nodded
negatively and turned back to her.  "You had turned to face each other and
had each other in a tight hug.  You looked so sweet.  So innocent.  I knew
for sure then that you two would love one another the rest of your lives if
I had anything to do with it."  She blinked and a tear fell from her eyes.
One fell from mine too.  Dad didn't look like he was far behind us.  Jason
squeezed my hand in my lap again, I looked at him and he was teary eyed
too.  God...this was not going to be easy.

       "I've known since you were a baby that you were sensitive, so I
suppose I should have seen this coming.  Things bothered you that just
didn't seem to affect other boys your age.  You cried when some other kid
got beaten up or bullied on the playground.  You were the one to nurse the
little birds with broken wings when other boys wanted to pull them apart.
You were the one who go upset when I grumbled at your Daddy – you would
tell me he didn't mean to make me angry...that we should kiss and make up.
You were the one who secretly cried with me at the movies...you didn't want
me to know...but I knew."

       I was not comfortable with what she was saying...was she saying my
sensitivities meant I was gay?  How the hell does that work?  Is every gay
boy sensitive?  Also, this talk made wonder if everyone else was thinking
the same thing about me?  Do people think I'm gay?  Am I that easy to read?
I don't think my friends see stuff like that in me...I mean...nobody has
shunned me or "tagged" me as being queer.  Sure, every kid gets called a
fag, or gay or other dumb shit all the time, but kids call each other names
all the time trying to needle each other...we all just roll with it and
call the name caller something worse, then we all laugh it off!  I'd get
the crap beat out of me if people thought I was gay...heck, I didn't even
figure Jason out until now!  But...Jason is
more...ummm...more...ugggh...it's just that I know people would never think
if him as being gay in a thousand years...me, they might figure out sooner,
not Jason.  *Sigh* Maybe she's right...this is too confusing.

       Mom was still talking, "The friendship between you boys has been
such a sweet thing to watch grow and develop.  Me and your Father have
spent many hours talking about how good you two are for each other.  We
talk about how you'll most likely go to college together...we wonder what
you'll do when you leave school.  We guessed you'd find jobs together and
raise your families next door to one another."

       She cried a few moments with her face in her hands then.  Not
another sound in the kitchen was heard except her near silent sobs; no
other sounds except the faint hum of the refrigerator, and the annoying
tick of the rooster clock over the sink.  I continued to feel
disproportionate with my body – one moment I felt as though the whole
room was shrinking as if I were Alice in Wonderland; the next I felt like I
was as tiny as the kids in Honey I Shrunk The Kids.  Wiping her eyes with a
Kleenex, she proceeded.

       "All these years you boys have shared a bed.  I should have known
how you felt toward one another.  Obviously, I couldn't keep you two
apart...how many times did we set out separate sleeping bags, bunk beds,
even having you sleep in separate beds...only to find you both back in bed
together come morning.  Eventually we just decided to leave you two alone
about it, and figured you'd...you'd out grow it."  She stopped then.  Her
gaze fixed on some imaginary spot on the table; not looking at either of
us.  The Kleenex in her hands was wadded up and opened and smoothed over
and over without a glance.

       "The other morning I came into your room and saw you and the nice
little boy you met out on the beach...Lenny, I believe?"  Jason and I
nodded in assent simultaneously. "What I saw was different, that is why I
went and got your Daddy.  I wanted him to see that you two weren't properly
clothed."  She paused, this time looking at both Jason and me for some sort
of reaction or input.  We, however we stunned into silence by this whole
conversation.  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

       Okay, just about now my body and mind had settled on some sort of
equilibrium, and though totally uncomfortable, and being 100 percent ready
to dash out of the room at any second, I did find the thought of anger over
her coming into my room uninvited beginning to fight it's way to the front
of my mind.  I opened my mouth with every intention to say something like,
"I'm sorry Mom...I won't ever do that again..." but that isn't what came
out.  Oh no.  Smartass mouth was going to get me slapped any minute now;
subconsciously I was ready do duck a pending blow that some part of my
psyche promised me was looming – what I said was...

       "What the fuck Mom!  Why are you spying on me?  How come you just
barg..."

       Wham.

       Yeppers...the ole "Knot to the Noggin" trick!  Only, it wasn't Mom
– whom I was expecting the assault from – it was Dad!  Ouch!

       "Do. Not. Ever. Talk. To. Your. Mother. That. Way. Again!" Dad said
with an urgency upon each word fitting for the occasion.  He was right...I
should have been more selective in my language...but you know just how
stupid about that I've been of late...how the hell am I gonna watch my
language when I'm dealing with this shit anyway!  Got an answer for that?
Nope...nor do I.  So, I hunched over from the blow to the head (no...he
didn't deck me, more of a backhanded blow to get my attention...Jason has
hit me harder than Dad just did...but still...I'm not used to getting
knocked up-side the head very often from him...so this was effective.  He
needn't go to more drastic measures, as this one worked), and rubbed the
spot where he'd hit me.  As I reached to rub the back of my head, Dad
turned sharply towards Jason and me.  Jason jerked as if slapped himself.
Dad felt bad about that, I could tell – he reached out for Jason to calm
him, and Jason flinched away from him.  Jason's nerves were fried by now.
He always gave the impression that he was the Rock of Gibraltar, but I knew
all the things happening now were weighing heavy on him – especially
worry about how his Dad was going to take news about me and him on top of
news yesterday about Jason being raped...not to mention getting caught
virtually red-handed!  So, I knew why Jason dodged Dad...I'm not sure Dad
expected that reaction from Jason.

       The look on Dad's face was of, "Oh shit...I didn't mean to do that!"
Only, he didn't SAY that...but I saw it right away.  This was getting out
of control quick.  Jason pushed back from his chair to jump up from the
table, as he did so too quickly, his chair turned over and as his body went
flying backwards his feet kicked the table and coffee went everywhere!  Mom
let out a startled cry, and Dad stood up immediately – his presence
dominating the whole kitchen.

       "STOP!" he demanded in an authoritarian voice, "just stop!
Everybody just calm down!"  Swiftly, Dad moved to help Jason right himself,
but kept a firm grip on his shoulders so Jason couldn't dart away...Jason's
body language indicated that was his exact intent.  As Dad's grip was firm
and constant and his gaze steady upon Jason...Jason soon stopped struggling
and looked directly at Dad.  "I'm so sorry Son."  Jason looked like a
frightened rabbit – if he wasn't JASON , I'm certain he would have
started crying then.  Jason wasn't one to give in to tears though, and he
held them back.

       Dad continued, "There is simply no way in the world I'd ever hit
you, Jason.  I would never hurt you.  I'm sorry."  Turning to look at me he
added, "Liam, I'm sorry – I mishandled this whole thing.  I'm upset, and
so is everyone here.  Please watch your language with your Mother, and
let's work through this together.  I know you have things to say, things to
ask, and none of this is easy for you.  But think of me and your Mom.  This
is all scary and new for us too.  Let's all step back a bit and breath a
bit here..."

       That's when I noticed Mom was gone.  She'd left during the
commotion.  Dad righted the overturned chair, straightened the table, and
set about to put things in order.  He made Jason sit back beside me, and I
just pulled him into a hug.  Both of our hearts were beating rapidly; I
could feel his tension and the heartbeat through our shirts.  I squeezed
him and whispered in his ear, "I'm sorry...I'll watch my mouth."  Jason
squeezed back and pulled his head up off my shoulder to look me in the
face. We both stared deep into one another's eyes, then giggled at the
intensity we'd both seen in each other.  Thankfully, that tiny giggle
brought a calm to both of us, and I knew we'd survive a few more minutes.

       "What happened to Mom?" I asked as Dad finished scurrying around
setting fresh OJ out for Jason and I, and fresh coffee for himself.

       "She went to go collect herself, Son.  She'll be back in a minute."
There was an awkward silence for a moment or two as Dad sipped his coffee.
He placed it back on the table, and while staring into its rich blackness,
he asked me, "Liam...Son, were you going to ask why your Mother comes into
your room without knocking?"

       I nodded.  No shit!

       "It's not fair Dad," I said calmly (surprising myself, given how
volatile this whole thing was turning out).  "I mean...it's MY room.  You
guys always talk about me respecting your closed door.  During the daytime,
if my door is closed you both knock before you come in.  Why do you just
come in at night like that.  And...MY DOOR WAS LOCKED!"

       "Wait a minute," Dad said.  "Let's take this in smaller pieces,
okay?"  He waited for me to acknowledge before continuing.  "First, Mom and
I have looked in on you at night since you were born.  It's what parents
do.  You had asthma really bad when you were younger...it's gotten better
as you've gotten older and are more active.  Still we worry about it more
than you know.  Mom has always gone to check on you at night.  Once, when
you were a toddler, you locked her out of the room.  She called me at work
in a panic, and I explained to her how to get your door open.  We keep a
key to the locks over the door trim at every bedroom door, Son."  He
pointed over to the guest room down the hall.  Sure enough, there above the
door was a metal object that I now recognized as a blasted key.  Damn.  I
never even thought about that before.  Ever.

       Taking a moment to comprehend this new revelation, I still wasn't
satisfied.  "But Dad," I reasoned, "she still walked in on my locked door!
How can I have privacy if it don't do any good to lock the door!"

       "You're right, Son...you are old enough for some privacy now.  We'll
have to fix that.  But, don't try to turn the argument around here, Bud!"
Dad said, "We're talking about YOUR behavior this morning!"

       "But Dad..." I protested in counter-whine mode...but Mom
interrupted.

       "Honey, I'm sorry."  She was sitting down to the table and I missed
her entrance into the room, just as I missed her exit earlier.  I jumped a
tiny bit at her words, so did Jason.

       "You are right to be angry.  It's worse than just opening your door
though.  What even your Father doesn't know is that I called a lock-smith
to disable that locking mechanism.  I was so afraid that you'd stop
breathing in the night that I wouldn't have a stupid door lock keeping me
from you."

       "You mean it don't lock?"

       She nodded.

       I jumped up from the table and ran to my room.  Closing the door
quickly, causing it to slam a bit harder than I intended, I turned the
thumbscrew on the lock.  It made a smart little noise as if it locked.
"Damn-it," I muttered to myself, "why is she lying about this...didn't she
think I'd check it out?" so, I reached for it to test the lock...my hand
was quivering as I reached out for it, as if I imagined it would burn my
hand I was so timid in grasping the knob: It turned and the door opened.
Shit.

       I thumbed the lock again and tried it from the outside.  Same
results.  I got back inside and tried to turn it the opposite direction
– no luck.  I've got a stupid door-lock that won't fucking work.  That's
great!  Now what the shit am I gonna do.  To hell with the cursing taboo!
I'm mad as a freaking preacher at a gay-pride march!  Frustrated as I could
possibly be, I ran to my bed and jumped face first across it.  I felt
humiliated, violated, distrusted, abused, and...spied upon.  I didn't know
whether to cry my eyes out to to grab a bazooka and go Nazi on them.  Just
at that moment, my bed seemed to be the safest and best place for me to be.
I needed to sort this out in my head.

       I didn't even hear the door open, but did feel the bed shift as
somebody sat on the edge of the bed beside me.  It was Jason...I could tell
by the feel of the bed movement, and just his...what do you call it...his
aura?  Even though he hadn't said a word, I knew it was him.  When he
reached out and put his hand on my back, there was no doubt.  Burying my
face deeper into the bedding, I realized I could smell him there.  Jason.
I breathed in his scent deeply, then turned – sure enough, there he was,
watching me.  He had a blank look on his face.  I hate it when he does
that...makes me have to work hard to figure out what is on his mind.  It's
as if he KNOWS I'm trying to read his mind and he purposefully blanks it
out to make it harder.  We've never talked about that, but I think he does
it.

       My movement made his hand shift to my belly as I rolled over.  My
hand went to his.  Wordlessly, Jason took me by the hand and pulled me up
to a sitting position beside him.  I placed my head no his shoulder, and
sighed deeply.  I knew he came to bring me back downstairs.  No words were
necessary.  We both knew that the lock didn't work now, and we both knew it
still didn't change shit about the REAL problem.  In unison, we both stood.
My ribs were sore from running up the stairs.  We held hands as Jason led
me back out to the hallway and down the stairs.  I wanted to pull him into
a deep kiss...but figured THAT wouldn't be a bright move just now, so I
denied my urges and followed dutifully back into the kitchen.  Jason led us
around the table to our spot, and we sat down – still hand-in-hand.  I
made up my mind as we entered the kitchen that I wasn't going to let his
hand go.  Mom and Dad were going to have to deal with the fact that things
had changed.  This small act of defiance was going to be a starting place
for me.  I wasn't about to let him go.  Let the bombs drop – we're in
this together...Jason and me.

       We boys were uncomfortable as we got back to the table.  To solidify
my point, and to prevent myself from backing out on my new-found resolve, I
picked up our hands and placed them on the table-top in front of us.  It
was a statement.  Jason looked directly at me and blinked.  I smiled
slightly, then turned to face the music.

       None of this was missed by Mom, nor was any of it misunderstood.

       "Liam," Mom began again, "I...I never meant...no, that's not how I
want to say this...When I had the lock disabled in your room you were a
very young child.  Locks have never meant much in our family...you have
always been so good about respecting our privacy...  I can see why you're
upset, Dear.  Today, right after we finish here," she patted me and Jason
on our clasped hands and looked directly at Dad with a look that brokered
no discussion – she'd made up her mind and the issue settled with no
discussion necessary – "you boys will go get a new passage lock for your
room.

       "It's something I've known we'd get too sooner or later, Dear, but
honestly, I didn't think about it often.  The locks should have been
changed when you started middle school.  I...just...I always...used to
always look in on you to see if you were okay, warm, covered...breathing.
I've always loved watching you sleep, you know.  I see you there...so
young, so full of life...I wonder at the man you'll grow up to be...who
you'll...you'll fall in love with... I wondered if I'd approve, if I could
love whomever you brought home to share your future with.

       "Last night.  Last night when I saw you two asleep together, I knew.
Jason was trying to be subtle and roll off of you without me seeing
him...seeing what you'd been doing.  But I saw him...I knew you weren't
just masturbating together."  I nearly died on the very spot!  OMG!  Did
she just say the "M" word!  Not in front of me!  Not in front of Jason!
How can you die of a self inflicted wound using one hand in a cast and the
other wrapped around your boyfriends hand!  *Good grief*

       Mom waved of my obvious discomfiture and continued.  "I saw two
people holding on after the throws of love."

       "MOM!!!!!!!!!!" I protested and turned beet-red.

       "Trust me," she said, "I know what that looks like."
Okay...TMI...time to hide the face here...I wrestled my hand away from
Jason, covered my ears and put my forehead on the table (not too gently).

       I could FEEL the smiles and hear the snorts from the them at my
predicament (if Jason had been laughing I'd have punched him...but he
wasn't).  This was just NOT what I wanted to be hearing from my
parents...ESPECIALLY from my MOM!

       "Jeez, MOM!" I protested, "pleeeezzzzeeee can we talk about this
some other way?"

       Mom let out a small laugh (funny that she found my embarrassment so
funny...bet she wasn't laughing last night!  Oh, dear God, PLEASE get me
out of this!).

       "It all fit together last night.  That's what I'm telling
you...Liam, Liam, look at me Son," she said as she gently placed her soft
hands upon mine, moving mine from my ears and lifting my face.  The
familiarity of her touch was still there...the tenderness, the love...all
still as she'd always been.  I looked up at her.  She was leaning across
the table.  Our faces very near.

       "I've been up ever since I covered you this morning, Son.
Thinking...crying...praying.  You and Jason were so lovely together.  All
these years, and now I know you belong to each other.  I just didn't know;
or, I don't think I WANTED to know." She paused.  The room was electrically
charged.  The ticking clock was like a timer on a pipe-bomb – all this
was about to blow up in my face.  I could feel the panic rising.

       "I called our Pastor this morning."

       Shit.

       This wasn't going to be good.  How many sermons of gay bashing have
I heard from that group?  More than any person should ever have to sit
through...I knew that much.  I also knew what he was going to tell Mom
about me...I was ready to script this out for her.  Afterall, I'm the
DAMNED ONE THEY ARE DAMNING!!!!  Don't you think I have cried myself to
sleep a million times at the hatred I feel coming from someone who says
"love your enemies," with one breath, but then says your gay sons are the
rot of the world and deserve hellfire and damnation with the next?  How
does a gay kid respond to that?

       Mom knew what I was thinking.  As she peered into my eyes, tears
fell from hers.  Her lips quivered as she carefully chose her next words.
I could feel her trembling through the fingers on my face.  It occurred to
me she was afraid.  I have never seen my Mother afraid of anything.  She
put's bugs outside with scarcely a notice.  Blood just makes her go into
nurse mode.  Traffic never frightens her or upsets her like Dad.  I've seen
her support crises after crises at church, with the family...a zillion
things that makes ordinary people cringe.  Not Mom.  She is implacable.
That's her.  Implacable.  But not now.  She is afraid.  Looking into my
eyes, she is afraid.  Is she afraid of me?  Or for me?

       Sorry...

       She looked me in the eyes, I could sense the fear in them, through
the tears I could see the fear.  Her hands were warm on my face...but very
soft...like feathers...like a dove.  My breathing slowed to non-existent.
My lips quivered with hers...I was afraid.  Afraid of her choice.

       "I told him we won't be back."


       The words floated across the table and into my ears...I couldn't
comprehend them. Did I just hear Mom say "...won't be back?"  A light came
on in my eyes, the dawning of understanding...the flare of hope springing
back to life.  I jumped up from the table and ran around it to her opened
arms.  I fell in her embrace and wept.  Deeply, I wept.  I groaned on her
shoulder, and I cried.  I cried for her.  I cried for me.  I cried for Dad.
I cried for Jason.  I cried.

       She rocked me.  She held me.  She let me cry.  I realized she was
talking...have no idea how long, or what I missed.  Only now it seems to me
she may have repeated it several times before it could soak into my mind
what she was saying.  As my tears began to wane, I heard her gently telling
me...

       "I had to choose between you, Son, and between my church.  I had to
choose my faith, or my Son.  I had to decide who I was going to be this
morning...I had to decide if I was going to be a good church member...or a
good mother.  Honey, I chose you.

       "I've been up all night wrestling with this...don't think for a
minute that I'm not struggling here...either of you.  I am. This is not
what I've planned and dreamed all these years.  I expected you to get
married.  I expected grandkids...family gatherings...I wanted to be part
of..."  She stopped.  Shaking her head as if to intentionally shifting
gears, or changing thoughts.

       "No matter.  What I know now makes things different.  I can have a
son, or lose a son.  I'll be damned if I let go that easily."  Her words
stung in my ears.  I'd never heard her talk like this.  I'm not sure I
liked it...it sounded so...so different coming out of her mouth.

       "I don't pretend to know how we'll work through this, but trust you
me, we're going to work through it.  I love you Liam Ronald Nielson.  I am
not going to lose you for a group of people who hate first, then claim to
want to help later.  We'll find a way to build our lives together, even if
it means we'll never darken another church door again.  I hope we can find
a place, but...no matter what...I will not turn my back on you, Liam.  And,
this means I won't turn my back on Jason."  My crying had now abated; I was
an emotional wreck.  I felt exhausted.  We'd just gotten up, but I felt as
though I'd just come off a cross-country journey lasting days on end.  I
was weary.

       Mom called Dad, who came and picked me up like I was a little kid
again.  Wordlessly, he knew Mom wanted me put into bed.

       I protested though.  I'm tougher than this, I don't want to be
treated and handled like a little kid.  I have a boyfriend now...a lover.
I'm not a little kid.  Dad looked at me as he continued to take me to their
bedroom, but I shook my head at him.

       "No, Dad.  I want...I need to stay...Jason needs me.  Please let me
down."

       I expected him to be angry, to argue that he knew best...but he
nodded, pulled me tighter to him and leaned in to kiss my forehead.
Placing his forehead upon mine, he whispered, "Now do you know why I love
her so much?  She always knows her heart, Son, she always knows."  He
lowered me down to stand on my feet.  I hugged him around his mid-section.
He smelled like Dad.  I felt his hands rub my back, and tousle my hair.  As
I pulled away from him to go back to the family room where Jason and Mom
had moved, I looked back and we held each other's gaze for a long moment.
Was this a rite of passing?  Had I just crossed over some threshold?  His
eyes said yes.


*******


	In the living room, Jason sat uneasily on the loveseat edge,
half-expecting to have to resume his dart away stance.  Mom entered the
room and came over to sit beside Jason.  Placing an arm on his back and
shoulder, she rubbed him over his tee shirt, then pulled him to a hug when
he turned to look at her.  They cried.

	I watched from the entryway for several moments, giving them some
time and space.  Eventually, I moved to settle on the other side of Jason.
There wasn't much room, and the forced closeness of our bodies was
comforting.  Placing my head on his shoulder and my arm around his waist, I
listened as Mom talked.  She waited for us to adjust after I came in, then
she picked up where she left off.

	"Boys, there are going to be rules," she said.  "I don't want to be
crude here...and I don't want to have this conversation more then once.
You boys aren't ready for sex.  No kids your age are.  And, I don't ever
want to walk in on what I did this morning ever again.  I can't keep you
from being together, because if I try, I'll drive you both away from me...I
don't want that.  But you two just are too young for sexuality."  Jason
blushed and looked away from her, but she continued.

	"If Liam was in love with a girl, we'd have the same rules.  No
kissing in public.  Keep that private.  Hold hands if you must...but do it
with respect for others around.  Snuggle when you are here safe at home,
but not openly in public.  It is never polite to flaunt relationships in
public...but as gay young men you will have to be very careful..."  She
sighed deeply.  "I don't understand this.  I don't know how well I accept
it all now.  I'm not going to pretend I don't still have some problems
coming to terms with what all this means for Liam, for you...or for the
whole family.  I just don't know.

	"What I do know, Jason William Lawler," using his full name caused
him to look directly at her, "is that my Liam loves you.  I know that
I...that we, Larry and I love you...we've loved you just for being you.
But, we love you even more because Liam loves you.

	"Don't you dare hurt him.  I won't tolerate it.  If you hurt him,
the world isn't large enough for you to hide from me.  Do you understand
me?"  Jason nodded understanding.

	"I won't hurt him," Jason said as he sniffed and wiped his eyes,
then looked over at me, our eyes now locked together, "I won't hurt him,
because I love him.  I always have loved him.  We love each other."  He
broke our gaze and looked back to Mom, "we have been so afraid to say it to
each other for all this time.  We should have trusted each other more.  I
told him that."  Jason drew a deep and ragged breath, and mumbled a bit of
internalized curse at himself and the tears.  Wiping at tears that just
refused to stop leaking, Jason continued.  "We didn't mean for you to find
out like this."  He reached for my casted hand and squeezed it gently, "we
haven't even known the truth about one another until just now.  We didn't
meant to disrespect you and Mr. Neilson by doing stuff in your house, under
your nose."

	"Dad...call me Mom, and Larry, Dad.  I know you have parents, we
love them too...more than you know...but now you have two sets of parents,"
she said as she hugged him warmly and rubbed his back.

	Jason pulled away to continue talking, "T..thanks M.Mom." He
blushed, but went on.  "Umm...I...I just don't know what to tell my Mom and
Dad."

	"Honey," Mom re-assured him, "We'll get through it.  Right now...I
think they have a plate full.  Your Father isn't handling the news of what
happened to you before very well, Baby.  This news may just be too much for
him right now.  I don't believe in keeping secrets.  This is something you
two are going to have to work out with your Mom and Dad, just as you have
with me and Larry.  But let's give them a few more days to see what happens
with this other situation.  Your Mother is scared."

	Jason looked up at Mom with worry in his eyes.  "Can I go home
now?" he asked.

	"Sure, Baby, I'll have Larry drive you home.  Your Mom called this
morning to check on you."  Jason looked up at her with a start.

	"Don't worry, Dear," Mom told him with a motherly voice, "I didn't
talk about...about things with her.  I told her you two were sleeping
still, and that I'd call her later when you all woke up."  Relief swept
across Jason's face, and as his smile broadened, he hugged her again.

	"Thanks Mrs. "N", I mean Mom, you're the best!"

	Dad walked in then, hearing all that he was ready with his car
keys.  "Come on Sport," Dad said, "Let's get you home and see what's for
lunch!"  The boys had not even eaten a proper breakfast, and Jason was
starving.


***********


	The phone rang in his ear as Lenny impatiently paced in circles
waiting for Brant to answer.  Eventually, the answering machine picked up
and the obligatory message demanding you spill your life history on the
phone came on.  Disappointedly, Lenny left his message for Brant to call
him back, and he hung up the phone.  Lenny slunk over to his favorite green
chair and dropped down in it and spun around.  Patience definitely not
being his strong suit, Lenny quickly ran out of things to occupy his mind
and he got up deciding to go for a walk down to the beach; leaving a note
for his Dad, who'd gone in that morning to get his work materials to work
from home.  Leslie had made a point of telling his boss, Larry, that he
would be working from home the rest of the month.  He told Larry on the
phone a little of what was going on, and agreed to fill Larry in on the
rest that morning at the office.  Lenny was relieved, because he really
didn't want to hear all over again, in particularly not if it was to tell
someone outside the circle.  Lenny knew Larry would be fine with what he
heard, and if Leslie had believed Larry wouldn't let him take the time off,
Leslie might have handled the situation differently.  As I was...everything
was okay.  Not great.  But okay.

       Lenny was halfway down the sidewalk when he heard the phone ring.
On a dime, he pivoted and sprinted back into the house.  He had forgotten
to lock the door on the way out and scolded himself for it as he raced past
the door to the cradle holding the wireless phone.

       "Hello? Lenny speaking."

       "Oh!  Hi Len!  This is Brant!"

       "Cool, I thought you weren't home.  I was about to talk down to the
beach.  I almost missed your call," Lenny replied eagerly.

	"Oh," Brant said a bit dejectedly.

	"What?" Lenny asked, picking up on the subtle let down.

	"Oh, nothing, "Brand replied, "I just thought you was calling to
talk about a sleep-over like we talked about at the party."

	"Dude!" Lenny giggled in the phone, "that's EXACTLY what I called
you for!  You're psychic, or something!"

	Brant laughed, his spirits instantly higher, "No, I just was
hoping...that's all."

	Both boys were smiling and beaming nervously, each a tiny bit
embarrassed to be talking to one another, both anxious to get things moved
along so they might have a chance to be together.  Awkwardly, Lenny
expanded the questions.

	"Ummm...what were you hoping for?"

	"I...ummm...I want to come over to your house really bad."

	Lenny grinned all over himself.  Brant was very sexy, was his own
age, and was obviously interested in Lenny.  Lenny had flashes of the
blowjob he'd secretly witnessed out on the beach crossing his mind every
time he saw, thought of, or talked to Brant.  So, he KNEW Brant had SOME
experience, but certainly didn't know to what extent.  The problem was, how
could he bring it up and not have Brant get mad because Lenny had secretly
spied on him making out with Ray on the beach.  Lenny decided he'd have to
proceed with caution.

	"That's way cool.  Can you come over now?  My Dad is gone to his
office, for a little bit, but he'll be back soon we could come get you if
you can come over now?"

	"Way cool!" Brant nearly yelled back into the phone.  "Hold on
lemme ask!"  There was silence on the phone as Brant obviously laid it down
to run ask permission.  Lenny was smiling to himself while he waited, a
nervous expectation began to build in the pit of his stomach.  A seductive
thought of young Brant climaxing into the waiting mouth of big handsome Ray
cause Lenny to get an instant boner.

	The phone jostled around a tiny bit as Brant got back and picked up
the phone.  "Stop it you jerk!" Lenny heard Brant yell while obviously
trying to muffle the receiver to obscure what was now apparently a scuffle.
Lenny drew a breath and waited for things to calm, and for Brant to get
back on the line.

	"Ouch!"

	"I'm gonna tell Dad if you don't go away and leave me the hell
alone, you dip-wad!"

	More scuffling.  Lenny was able to finally figure out who Brant was
scuffling with...it was Will, Brant's big brother.  Lenny wondered about
that relationship...it had seemed strained to him, at best, but hearing
this, Lenny decided he didn`t know nearly enough of what was between them.

	The line went dead.  Brant had hung up the phone!  Brant, or Will.
If it was Will, Lenny had decided the older boy was just a jerk and a
bully.

	A minute passed, but then the phone rang again...it was Brant.

	"Sorry," Brant apologized into the phone.  "Will is such a big
jerk."

	"Why's he being so mean to you?" Lenny asked.  He had never
experienced anything like this up close before.  His own world was pretty
peaceful.

	"He's just mad at me because I won't...ummm," Brant stuttered
because he knew he's nearly slipped with devastatingly personal and
humiliating information, "ummm...I won't umm...do stuff for him anymore."
Silence on the line.  Lenny's mind raced.  Do what?

	"Sooo...can you come over?" Lenny finally asked, letting the tense
moment pass.

	"Huh?  Oh, yea...no..I have to clean my room and the garage first.
Dad said I could come over in the afternoon though.  Can your Dad still
come pick me up?"

	"Alright!" Lenny yelled into the phone.  "Sure, I'll ask, but I
know he won't mind.  He'll do anything I ask him.  He's feeling guilty for
leaving me alone so much, so he won't say anything about it."

	"Cool," Brant said as he smiled at his good fortune.

	"'Bout what time should we come pick you up?" Lenny asked?

	"Just a sec," Brant said, and a noise like Brant had pulled the
receiver down to cover it with his hand was heard...distant raised
voices...return to the line.  "He said I can come over just as soon as I
finish the garage.  I'll be done in record time!"

	"Cool!"

	"I'd say three O'clock.  I'll call when I'm close to ready, but
I'll betcha I'm done by three O'clock."

	Both boys said their reluctant goodbyes, and both began daydreaming
of perhaps a chance to get to know one another very well!  Lenny hung up
the phone, then called Liam's house.  Liam's mother answered the phone and
told him Liam was asleep.  This caused Lenny to be a bit worried.  So, he
politely hung up and called Jason.



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