Date: Mon, 17 Dec 2001 00:36:11 +0000
From: Java Biscuit <javabiscuit@hotmail.com>
Subject: boy in a pink box, finale

This is a story involving teen/boy, male/male graphic sex and not
intended for reading by minors. If you are underage, or this type
of material is illegal where you live, please stop now, and go read
something else! This is a completely fantasized story meant only
for the purpose of pleasurable reading.

Thanks to all who sent me lovely feedback and to David, who
so efficiently posted all the chapters! This is the final chapter.
Time to kiss these boys good bye!

Feedback to javabiscuit@hotmail.com

Boy in a Pink Box ~ chapter ten

by Biscuit


When I look back at that summer, I still can't believe
how much change crowded my life, all starting with
Gareth and his mom showing up at our front door. I
don't know who life changed for most, me or my dad.
All those years of carefully guarding his secret and
making Spano sleep downstairs. They didn't really act
that much different. Maybe I caught a stray touch here
and there, or maybe I just noticed them more. My dad
and I could have been closer, knowing so much more
about each other. Eventually we would be, but for a
long time I was hurting, and distant.

My dad isn't easy to hate. He's just not. Too nice, or
something. But I was miserable and took it out on him,
in a quiet burning way; holding back. I wouldn't talk to
him unless he made me. I stayed in my room instead of
hanging out when he and Spano were watching TV or
when they were doing stuff like working on the rickety
shed out back and I could have helped them. I'd always
loved to do that, any kind of hammering or sanding,
anything they'd let me do. But I avoided them, I
forced myself to. I wanted to punish my dad. Even
when it hurt me.

Gareth was gone. School was staring me in the face.
Terry and I still hung out sometimes but I felt funny
after that time on the couch with him and he started
spending more time with D'Arcy.

The pink box was up for sale.

The only side benefit of my misery was that I ended
up concentrating on school and my grades were good.
I also played basketball, hard. I spent so much time
practicing and staying late at school to shoot hoops
that I ended up as a starting guard for the first time.

I spent more time jerking off than seemed humanly
possible; picturing a little boy with red hair and
dimples, and a cock so tiny it could fit in the palm of
my hand with room to spare. God, what a mess I was.
I missed him so much I couldn't think about him
without wanting to cry, or hit something, or beat off.

I started hanging out with Jen sometimes. Mostly so
the other girls would leave me alone. That was another
thing that seemed to have changed. I don't know if I
looked different, or the girls changed, or what. But
suddenly I was aware of them all around me, looking
at me, wanting something; with eyes like Gareth's
when I rescued him out in the water that time.
Goo-goo eyes, Jen called it.

She confessed to me that she thought she was in love
with D'Arcy. I confessed nothing. As long as we did
stuff together, it was like we were both safe. She asked
me once, point blank, if I was gay. I shrugged it off. I
don't know, I told her, maybe. That was good enough
for her, she didn't ask me again. She said she liked
being thought of as my girlfriend. It was weird. I
would let her do stuff like put her arm around me
in the hall at school. She'd come see my basketball
games.

Spano tried to talk to me; to talk me out the funk
I was caught in. He just walked into my room one
afternoon and sat down at my desk. I was on the
bed surrounded by school books, my notebook in
my lap.

"You've got to give your dad a break," he said to
me. "Joe. Enough is enough. I know it's been tough,
but you're not the only one it's been tough for."

I just kept staring down at my notebook. What did
he know? How did he have the balls to talk to me
about how to treat my dad?

"Joe," he said, "your dad ... is such a good man."

"If you think he's so great, what were you doing
with that other guy?" I snapped at him. God, I
didn't want to say anything about it, it just blurted
out of me. I didn't like to think about it, let alone
want to talk about it. "Just leave me alone, okay?"
But I'd put my foot right in it and my heart was
tripping away. I felt my face getting hot.

"Joe." His voice sounded heavy like he was pulling
it up from somewhere deep and I wished he wouldn't.
I wished he'd just go the fuck away.

"I know it doesn't make sense to you," he said, "but
believe me." Oh God, I thought, I don't want to hear
this. "It had nothing to do with how I feel about
your dad. The guy was a friend of mine, not a
stranger I went out prowling the dunes looking for.
He's someone your dad and I have both known for
a long time. Sometimes sex happens with friends.
I'm not saying it's a good thing, or that I'm proud
of it. Just ... that it happens. It doesn't mean that I
love your dad any less. He knows that."

I felt stung, thinking of me and Terry. Knowing
how I felt about Gareth and how I'd done it with
Terry anyway. But I didn't want to think about
what Spano and I might have in common; I didn't
want to think about any of it.

Spano seemed to give up. At first I felt like I'd won
somehow when he got up from my desk and headed
toward the door. I'd succeeded in making him feel
bad, instead of him doing it to me. He stopped at
the door, and looked back.

"I know it's rough, Joe. I'm sorry. I'm sure you
guys will work it out." Then he was gone and I felt
worse. In a way I wished he'd just told me it was
none of my fucking business, that he'd told me
I was acting like an asshole. I knew I was and I
couldn't stop.

Not long after that, the spell finally broke.

Something happened, something so good that it
blew my misery right out of the water.

It was a saturday morning in December. I was
spooning down cereal, giving my dad one syllable
answers to stuff about Christmas.

Did I want to go with him and Spano to pick out the
tree? Did I want to go up Cape to the mall? Had I
made up my mind what color I wanted my iMac to
be? No, no, and no. The last hurt to say. It was so
hard to act like I didn't care that I was getting the
computer of my dreams. And I knew I wanted a
blue one. Even that, I refused to show him a shred
of enthusiasm for.

Then he asked, did I want something special for
Christmas, something about four feet tall, with big
green eyes and red hair?

"God, you're torturing him," Spano said. I looked up
at them, distrustful, my mouth full. Spano was across
the table from me with the newspaper open in front
of him, but looking at me, and my dad was leaning
against the counter, waiting for the coffee to finish
brewing.

"I called Gareth's mom," Dad said. "It turns out she
and Tony are going to Colorado for the holiday and
Gareth would rather come here."

Like a God, my dad looked to me, standing there.
My heart nearly broke between joy and the stab of
pain I felt over how I'd been acting. No wonder
Spano loved him. No wonder he put up with years
of sleeping downstairs in his office, of hiding. My
dad wasn't just handsome, though God knows I'd
begun to see that he was. Not a stud, like Spano was;
he was better looking than that. His body was lean
and graceful and his face was so fine. But what I
saw just then was the rest of it, his goodness and
patience, his kindness. It radiated from his face,
as much a part of his looks as the shape of his
nose or his eyes.

I don't even remember getting up from the table.
I was just there with my face pressed into the
flannel of his shirt and his arm tight around me,
and his hand in my hair. I was crying. I couldn't
help it. Not just for being glad that Gareth was
coming, but because the long horrible time of
distance from my dad had come to an end. It
was like stepping back into the sun.

Christmas was awesome. We picked Gareth up at
the tiny Oceanus airport where four-seater planes
from Boston landed year round. He was dressed
the most normal I'd ever seen, for him. Navy blue
suit and matching coat, crested blazer and tie; he'd
come straight from school. And all that candy
colored hair pulled back in a tail that was half undone.
He came down the fold out steps from the plane, his
hair flying in the wind, and hit the tarmac running.
We were outside, waiting. I was much too nervous
and excited to stay in the little terminal. My dad and
Spano were out there with me even though it was
freezing cold and the wind was whipping. God, what
a sight he was. I kind of braced myself for the impact,
knowing I was going to have an armful any second.

"I'm here. I'm here!" he screamed as he ran, waving
his arms. I could hear my dad and Spano laughing.
And then I had him and was nearly staggering with
him trying to hug me and jump at the same time. I
squeezed him hard enough to break ribs if he hadn't
been so padded up with clothes.

I got to hold him in my lap on the way home. The
truck doesn't have that much sitting room and we
piled into it four across with my dad driving and
Spano against the passenger door. It was a tight
squeeze until Spano picked Gareth up and plunked
him right on my lap.

"You're taking up too much room," he said,
grinning. "How'd you get so fat, kid? What do they
feed you at that school?"

For the twenty minute ride I had my boy in my lap,
on top of the world's happiest boner. He was like a
wind up doll, talking a mile a minute about school,
about sitting next to the pilot in the plane and God
knows what. All I cared about was the sound of the
voice I hadn't heard in so long. My dick knew his
ass was somewhere under all that navy blue wool and
as far as it was concerned, Christmas had come.

Gareth was squirmy and excited, turning from my
dad to Spano and back, trying to twist around to see
me. Every shift of his little ass was pure joy. I
finally lost it, completely. I hugged him tight, hiding
my face on his shoulder, biting my lip to keep from
making a sound, and unloaded a pint of hot cream
in my pants. Oh God, it was good. I was a sticky,
hot mess and too happy for words.

I had him for Christmas and Easter and again in
the summer. That's how it was, and how it still is,
more or less. We got adopted by Gareth Jones. I hate
the part where we say good bye but the homecomings
are awesome. He gets prettier every year and his slim
cock is a sweet handful now. I'm terrified he'll fall
in love while he's gone at school. He hasn't yet. So
far, so good. Just a few more years and I think I'm
going to do something dumb, like ask him to marry
me or something. I figured out my dad and Spano
were only thirteen when they started being
boyfriends. I'm hoping it's another one of those
things my dad and I have in common, finding the
boy we want young, and keeping him.

finis