Date: Mon, 11 Nov 2002 13:26:34 +1100
From: Iain Robertson <iainlthr@hotmail.com>
Subject: Dave Pt 10

Copyright for this story belongs to and remains with the author. I don't
have any major objection to my work being re-distributed, but ASK FIRST!!!

This is a gay adult story with the consequent language and images. If
homosexuality and/or sexually explicit themes offend you then do not
continue. If these are illegal in your area, then you have my sympathy, but
you proceed at your own risk.

This is a work of fiction, and as such the characters are not bound by the
usual dictates of modern society. Unsafe sexual practices can be undertaken
with impunity only in the world of fantasy. In reality, it is your
obligation and your right to play safely, sanely and healthily.

I hope you enjoy my work, and if you have any comments, or ideas that may
inspire new work, please feel free to contact me - all emails will be
answered to the best of my ability. Iainlthr@hotmail.com.


Dave

	Iainlthr@hotmail.com

Epilogue -  The Lessons of the Past

It's been more than five years now since Dave and I were 'married'. It is
still one of my happiest, brightest memories, that day by the harbour, and
the following night in the Hotel. We followed it with a marvellous week of
love-making and sunbathing at a tropical resort, and then came home to
settle into our new life together.

Despite my promises that day, we have had a few fights over the years, but
we have always made sure we made up before we went to sleep that night. And
the years have been good to us. Dave is still as stunningly gorgeous as
ever, and I love him even more now than I did back then. Sometimes, late at
night as I lie in our bed with his arm across my chest and his deep
contented breathing in my ear, I want to cry with joy at how lucky I am, and
how amazing it is that such a perfect man as he could fall in love with me.

Our home too, has lived up to all of our expectations and fulfilled all of
our dreams. We've made it a warm and welcoming place, often filled with the
laughter and joy of our friends and our families. We've held dinner parties
and barbecues, afternoon soirees and innumerable gatherings. We've fulfilled
our promise to our families, and become favourite Uncles to a host of nieces
and nephews. And in all that time, I have never lost the wonder and the
thrill of making love with him. Every time is better than the last, and
every second away from him is an eternity.

  ********************

It was the first week of September, and spring was in the air. I was always
amazed at how the change from winter took place overnight, blossoms
appearing everywhere, and a definite warmth in the morning air. That
Saturday morning I had just finished some laundry and Dave was in the guest
bedroom, scrubbing it down in preparation for a new coat of paint. Domestic
bliss! I thought to myself, when I heard the phone ring. Dave answered it,
and a conversation ensued which I couldn't hear. Ten minutes later, he
wandered out to find me.

"Sally says hi!"

"Oh right," I replied. "How is my favourite sister-in-law?"

"She's well. She rang to ask if we would baby-sit next weekend."

"I guess so," I answered, thinking hard. "I hope the paint is dry and the
smell gone by that time from the bedroom. What are they up to?"

Dave looked thoughtful. "Nothing. Sally and Michael don't have any plans at
all ..."

"Then why are we babysitting?" I asked, confused.

"Apparently, it's not her idea. Jarod has been at her, asking if he can come
and stay with us for a weekend. Just him, not the other kids."

"Jarod? Has he come out yet?" I asked with a smile. It had been a continuing
joke between us and Sally since she confided at our wedding that she
suspected her then 11 year old son might be gay. He was now a good looking
young man of 17.

Instead of the usual laugh from Dave, all I got was a long, thoughtful look.
"No," he said finally, "but Sally thinks he might want to - to us!"

"Oh!" I said quietly, the implications sinking in. "Well, I suppose he's at
the age when he knows. What did you tell her?"

"That he could come and stay, and that we wouldn't push him at all, but that
we'd let him tell us whatever he wanted."

  ***

The following weekend arrived remarkably quickly. Strangely enough, both
Dave and I were somehow nervous about what it would bring. We had always
encouraged our nieces and nephews to be honest and open, to ask any
questions of us, and tried to answer them honestly, but this was different,
and we just weren't sure how to handle it. Hell, we didn't even know for
sure what 'it' was!

Jarod arrived early Saturday morning, getting himself to our place by train,
exerting his independence from his parents. At seventeen he was all but a
man, and yet he still had a wonderful boyish quality about him. I met him at
the door, and was struck by how attractive he had become physically. His
legs were strong and muscled, and I knew he was part of the cycling team at
school. His arms were powerful and his shoulders wide. I mused that good
looks must run in Dave's family.

"Hi Uncle Mike!" he exclaimed as I opened the door.

"Hi yourself, handsome," I replied as usual. "I swear you get better looking
every time I see you. I'll bet you're breaking hearts all over that school
of yours!"

He blushed and gulped, both normal reactions from him, and something I'd
managed to elicit for a long time now. Maybe it was my imagination, but this
time he seemed to take my comments a little more to heart than before.

Dave heard his voice and bellowed from the living room, "Is that my
favourite nephew you're keeping to yourself out there, Trenton?"

Jarod laughed and threw his bag into his room, heading to the back of the
house. "Hey there Uncle Dave!"

Dave looked him up and down, and looked over Jarod's shoulder to me, winking
slightly in one of our shared signals. He appeared to become serious, trying
to keep a stern expression on his face. "Now listen here, Jarod! You're a
man now, or close enough for the difference not to matter. We won't have any
more of this 'uncle' business, it makes both Mike and I feel positively
ancient. From now on, you call us 'Mike' and 'Dave', okay?"

Jarod's grin lit up his face. "You bet, Unc ..., erh, you bet Dave!" he said
enthusiastically.

"Great." Dave replied. "Now, the other fun part about being grown up is that
you get to help with the work! Mike is busy inside, but you and I are going
to attack this garden, before it gets overgrown with the new season, okay?"

Jarod pretended a groan, but I could see he was actually delighted to be
included as one of the adults. He and Dave set to work in the yard, and Dave
kept him busy for the rest of the morning with weeding and cutting, and
generally cleaning up. By early afternoon, the garden was looking much
better, and Dave called a halt to their efforts.

"Lunch!" I declared, delivering a tray of cold cuts and rolls, salad and
cheese onto the small table on our deck, overlooking the garden.

"When does the rest of the crowd arrive?" Dave asked with a grin.

"Yeah, there's an awful lot of food here," Jarod agreed.

I tried to look offended. "Got to keep my men well fed," I answered them.
"Need to keep their energy levels up!" I added in a loud stage whisper,
overemphasizing a leery wink at Dave. He tried to stifle a laugh as Jarod
turned red and attempted to look away. I ignored both of them as I set three
glasses on the table and poured each of us a full measure of red wine - a
very nice Merlot, perfect for a spring afternoon, that we had been cellaring
for a while.

Jarod looked at the glass with surprise. "Is that for me?"

"Uh huh," I nodded. As with all of the children, Dave and I had, with their
parents blessing, insisted that from a young age they be allowed to taste
wine, and taught to appreciate the good from the bad. In addition, we felt
it lessened the possibility of them over-indulging once they were legally
able to buy alcohol themselves, if the mystery were removed while they were
still adolescent. But such tasting was usually allowed by sampling very
small sips, and Jarod was the first to be given his own full serve.

"You do the work of a man, you get treated like a man," I said, smiling at
him. And then my face became serious. "Of course, you also have to act like
a man, or you'll be treated like a kid again."

Dave nodded to me over Jarod's head, approving of my strategy. From then on,
we made no more reference to Jarod's age. We ate our lunch leisurely, and
chatted about whatever came to mind. Dave and I discussed things that needed
doing around the house, asking Jarod for his opinion. We talked about work,
about our friends, about planned parties and so on. Family members were
discussed, and several times we tried to draw Jarod out by asking him about
school, about his academic work, about the cycling team, about his friends.
Each time he answered politely, but then seemed to quieten until we moved on
to some other topic. He did however seem to be very happy to be included in
our conversation and treated as an adult.

The afternoon wore on as we sat and talked, relaxing together. Our drinks
had been replenished several times, and I was keeping my eye on our nephew
given the amount of alcohol he was not accustomed to, but he seemed to be
taking it all in his stride. At least he was starting to open up a bit more,
his natural shyness decreasing as the time went by.

"So, what do you want to do tonight?" Dave asked the air, although his
question was aimed at Jarod.

"Um, I don't know," the young man replied.

"Well, it's your weekend. Did you want to catch a movie, dinner, party on?"
asked Dave.

"Sex, drugs, rock 'n' roll?" I added helpfully. Dave threw a cushion at me,
as Jarod laughed self consciously.

"No, thanks, but if it's okay, well, I think I'd rather just hang around
here with you," Jarod said quietly.

"What?" I asked, surprise in my voice. "Spend a Saturday night with a couple
of boring old uncles? Take away food and a movie on the telly? What kind of
teenager are you anyway?"

Dave nudged Jarod with his elbow, looked toward me and nodded. Together,
they swung around with cushions in hand, and I copped a double blow to
either side of my head. When I tried to fight back, Dave grabbed hold of my
ands and refused to let go as I struggled with him, as all three of us
laughed uproariously. Eventually, I managed to free myself by pulling him
against me and planting a long kiss on his lips. When we separated again,
Jarod was looking at us intently, an unreadable expression on his face. It
surprised both of us, since we had never hidden our affection for each other
around the children.

"Honestly," he said as Dave and I re-seated ourselves, "a night at home with
you would be great."

"Okay," I agreed. "So you can either have your choice of fast food and we
pick the movie, or vice versa. What do you think?"

"My pick, and I choose dinner - pizza!" Jarod exclaimed.

"Just as well," I lectured. "If you'd said burgers I'd have been forced to
kill you!" In truth, Dave and I would probably have gone for a nice Italian
meal at a cafe, then a few drinks at one of the bars before heading home,
but there was no way I was taking Jarod to a bar yet, even if he could have
probably gotten away with it with his size and build. We had learned to live
with fast food for the sake of the nephews and nieces.

The evening was coming on, and even though it was September, there was still
a chill in the night air. "Okay, guys," I announced. "Jarod, why don't you
take a shower and clean up. I'll tidy out here, and Dave, you can set up the
loungeroom, and pick a movie."

As the young man disappeared into the bathroom, I looked to Dave. "What do
you think?"

"He definitely has something on his mind, but I don't think he knows how to
bring it up."

"My thoughts exactly."

Dave suddenly grinned. "I might be overplaying things, but I have an idea
..." He explained what he planned, and I smiled. If being gay was what was
on Jarod's mind, this would be one way to get him to open up.

  ***

An hour and a half later, we were ready for the movie. We'd taken turns at
showering and cleaning, and Jarod had been left to order the pizza which had
been delivered and was awaiting consumption. We arranged ourselves in front
of the television, Dave and I next to each other and Jarod on the
neighbouring chair, the pizza on a coffee table in front of us and a bottle
of wine breathing beside it.

"Ready?" Dave asked, and Jarod and I nodded as we settled in and Dave
started the video. It was an old movie from our collection, called "Our
Sons" with Julie Andrews, Anne Margret, and Hugh Grant, and told the story
of a gay couple where one of them was dying of AIDS and his partner's mother
(Julie Andrews) was determined to re-unite the dying man with his mother
(Anne Margret) who had thrown him out when she discovered he was gay. Not
terribly subtle in the present circumstances, but a movie we both enjoyed
tremendously, and one which always evoked tears at the end.

As the movie progressed, the three of us finished off the pizza and had some
more wine. Dave and I slid down onto the floor, arms around each other in a
makeshift bed of pillows and blankets, while Jarod stretched out lengthwise
on the sofa. When the final credits rolled, I sniffled back a tear, and
kissed Dave softly. "I love you," I whispered to him.

"I love you, too," he responded quietly. "That movie always makes me cry,"
he added.

Jarod was strangely quiet. I looked to where he was lying, wondering if he'd
fallen asleep, but he was sobbing silently to himself.

"Hey, guy," I said, reaching for him. "It's okay."

Dave looked up and came over to him as well. "It's only a movie, Jarod,
don't be too upset."

"How could anyone be so hateful?" he sniffled. "Surely no-one could be that
awful to their own son just because he's gay?"

"Well," Dave said slowly, choosing his words. "Unfortunately, yes some
people are like that. Don't forget, that movie was made a long while ago
now, and attitudes have changed. Even from when Mike and I were growing up
things have gotten a lot better."

"Surely you didn't get that kind of treatment?" Jarod looked aghast.

"No," I said reassuringly, "We were both lucky to have loving, understanding
families, but we also both know people who were treated very badly." I took
a breath, and went on. "It was still very hard for your uncle and I to admit
how we felt. We went to school together you know, but didn't actually tell
each other how we felt until many years later."

Jarod gasped at my last comment, and looked startled, his eyes wide. I
wondered what had made him jump like that. Dave spoke again.

"You know, Jarod, that things are easier now. Your own mother actually told
us the day Mike and I got married that she hoped our getting married would
be an example for her children, and that they would know by seeing us that
it was okay for two men to love each other." He didn't repeat the rest of
that conversation, but Jarod looked up in surprise just the same.

"My mother said that?"

"Yep. She's a very understanding lady, your mum," I added, watching him
closely.

Jarod's face betrayed the emotions churning within him. The plot line of the
movie, our presence, and the wine all seemed to contribute to his ability to
get out the next few words. With anguish in his voice, he tried to speak,
stopped, drew a breath, and tried again.

"Mike, Dave, " he choked out, "I'm gay." The words were spoken so softly it
was almost impossible to hear them, but we did. Dave looked at me, his
eyebrows raised, and I nodded as he moved to sit next to our nephew, and
hold him in his arms.

"It's okay, Jarod," Dave cooed to him. "We thought you might be."

The boy looked up suddenly, his face ashen. "Is it that obvious? Can
everyone tell just by looking at me?" There was a note of panic in his
voice.

"No, no," Dave soothed him. "But you've been wanting to say something all
day, and there had to be a reason for someone your age giving up a weekend
to stay with his old uncles."

Jarod bristled. "You're not old! And I love being here. I'd want to come and
stay even if I didn't have anything to tell you!"

"Well, thank you for the compliment," I said, joining them. "It doesn't
matter that you're gay. In fact, we're kinda proud that you chose us to tell
first."

"I couldn't tell anyone else," he said softly, his voice trailing away to
silence.

"What about your mother?" Dave asked.

"Mum? No way. She'd be shocked, and disappointed, and upset."

I looked at him, my heart going out to him. "I don't think so, Jarod. Who do
you think told us that she thought you wanted to spend the weekend with us
because you needed to tell someone about yourself?"

He looked at me, disbelief in his eyes. "No way!"

Dave held him again. "Yes, Jarod. And she is really worried for you - not
that you're gay, but that you're having trouble accepting it, or telling
anyone about how you feel, about who you are."

He sat there, shaking his head, as Dave and I surrounded him, a group hug
holding the three of us together. Jarod's eyes filled again and he started
to cry softly. "It's okay," Dave said to him. "No need to be upset."

"I'm not upset, I'm just well, relieved, and so happy," Jarod sniffed. "I
don't believe how good it feels, being able to talk about it."

I laughed softly remembering my own coming out. Dave joined me and we kissed
again. Jarod peeked up at us from his blanket.

"There's more ..." he said.

"Go on," Dave sat back again, his arms around the young man.

"There's this guy at school - we're on the cycling team together. He is just
gorgeous. I think I'm in love with him, but I don't know how he feels, and I
can't bring myself to say anything to him."

Dave and I, as one, broke out in bellowing laughs, guffaws which rocked us
both as we sat there. Jarod looked from one to the other and back again,
confused and hurt. "It's not that funny!" he said, a pout on his lips.

"My man," I said, still chuckling. "Dave and I were on the swimming team
together at school. Both of us wanted the other, but neither of us was game
to say anything. We ached for each other, but never got together. It wasn't
until years later that we finally told each other how we had felt. We missed
out on so much time together because we couldn't tell ourselves, or anyone
else, what we were feeling."

"No!" he said. His eyes bored into each of us, me first and then Dave.
Finally he accepted the truth of what we were saying, and began to laugh
along with us. It was a tremendous release for him, and the weight of his
worries lifted from his young shoulders as he shared something with us that
none of us had expected.

Eventually, we regained our composure. "Well," I declared. "We're not going
to let you make the same mistake we did. I won't guarantee you that you and
..."

"Peter," he said, the feeling in his voice unmistakable.

"I won't guarantee that you and Peter will actually turn out to be a couple,
or even that he will want you. He may not even be gay, but at least we can
try to make sure you don't miss out on any possibilities, the way we did."

"How close are you, as friends?" Dave asked. "Does he spend time at your
house? Do you go out together at all?"

"Yeah," Jarod sounded uncertain. "He comes over to home from time to time.
Obviously we spend a lot of time together at practice and at meets with the
team. And we sometimes go to the movies, or get a burger together after
school."

Dave thought about it. "Ever spent a weekend at his place or yours?"

"Once. I stayed with him and his folks when they went down the coast one
weekend. But nothing happened between us, just fishing and swimming and
that."

"It's okay Jarod," Dave said. "I'm not suggesting anything like that. I'm
just trying to come up with some ideas. Do you have any reason to think he
might be interested in you. Romantically I mean?"

"Umm, sometimes I see him looking at me in the changerooms after a meet. But
whenever he sees me looking, he always looks away really quickly. And
pretends like he wasn't looking at all."

Dave and I looked at each other, smiles breaking out on both our faces, a
knowing glance passing between us. I steered the conversation away from
Peter for a while, drawing Jarod out about how he felt, letting him talk
about his feelings about being gay. I knew that by talking it out he would
find a great deal of relief from the tension he must have been experiencing.

As he spoke, Dave sat and listened, but I could see he was hatching some
kind of plan in his head. Jarod talked for hours, well into the night, and
we sat and listened, feeling for this articulate, handsome young man, so
much like us when we were his age, and yet so different too.

Eventually, the talking slowed as tiredness came upon us. I bundled Jarod
off to bed, and dragged my man into our room. "What are you thinking?" I
asked.

"I'm not sure yet," Dave answered. "Let me sleep on it, and I'll discuss
what I have in mind before I run it past Jarod, okay?"

"Okay, stud! I love you, you know."

"I know," he grinned. "I love you, too."

  ******

The next morning Dave and I were up and about long before Jarod showed his
face. We were sitting on the back deck when he finally appeared, wandering
out to us with a tired expression on his face.

"Morning, Uncs," he called, earning himself a dark look from me. "Oh, yeah,
sorry, morning Mike, morning Dave," he corrected himself with a grin. "Any
coffee?"

"If you're old enough to drink it, you're old enough to make it yourself,"
Dave said with a smile at me.

"I'll have a refill while you're at it," I said quickly, winking at Dave.
Jarod grumbled something under his breath, but got himself a coffee, and a
top-up for me. He sat in silence for a while sipping at the brew while the
three of us just looked out onto the spring morning. It was Jarod who broke
the quiet.

"Dave, Mike, I just want to say thanks for yesterday, for listening and
letting me talk, I can't believe how much better it feels to have brought it
out in the open."

I smiled warmly at our nephew, as Dave reached over to him and gave him a
gentle cuff on the shoulder. "Anytime, Jarod," he said. "If you ever want to
talk about anything at all, Mike and I will both be here for you."

"You still have to tell your mother," I cautioned, "although I'm sure it
won't be as hard as you think."

"Maybe not," Jarod looked unconvinced.

"And just a suggestion," I went on. "I think maybe just tell her you're gay
for now. Let her get used to it before you start talking to her about
possible boyfriends, okay?" Dave grinned, and Jarod nodded slowly, taking it
all to heart.

"On that subject," Dave interjected, "I have an idea." Jarod looked up
quickly, and I nodded to Dave to go on. He had already told me his plan and
I agreed it was a good way to help.

Jarod looked up as he continued. "Newtown Street Fair is on in a few weeks
from now. It's nothing special, but it involves closing the main street and
setting up stalls and entertainment and whatever. Does that sound like
something you would like to go to?"

"Yeah," said Jarod enthusiastically, but with a question in his voice.

"Why don't you ask Peter if he'd like to spend a weekend with you at your
crusty old uncle's place, to go to the fair and just generally get away from
the family? That will sound innocent enough, and once we can see his
reaction to your uncle being gay, and all the weird and wonderful sights
he'll see at the Fair, then you'll know whether it's safe to tell him how
you feel."

Jarod's eyes lit up as he listened to Dave's proposal, a grin splitting his
face. "Thanks," he said at last, "Thank you Dave, thank you Mike, I can't
tell you how much this means to me."

We smiled at him, as plans were made for the weekend with his friend at our
home. It felt good to be helping him like this, and I wondered how much
different things may have been for us had we had someone to help out when we
were his age.

*****

The planned weekend arrived quickly enough. We had plotted with Jarod to try
to keep things as innocent as possible. If it turned out that Peter was
straight, we didn't want Jarod or him getting hurt anymore than was
absolutely necessary. Although I felt uneasy at the way we were proposing to
manipulate the young boy we didn't even know, Dave convinced me that it was
for the best.

As their cab pulled up outside, I called to Dave who went to open the door
to meet them. I waited, out of sight, in the bedroom.

"Jarod!" I heard Dave call out. "How are you my boy. And you must be Peter!
Welcome, come on in." I heard a muffled response from Jarod, and another
voice, although I couldn't make out the words, and then footsteps as they
started along the hallway.

"It's really good of you to have us for the weekend, Mr Mitchell, I'm
looking forward to it," said an unfamiliar voice, obviously Jarod's friend.

"Not at all," boomed Dave, and I'll have none of this 'Mr Mitchell'
business. From now on, it's 'Dave', okay?"

"Yes, sir," said the voice.

I wandered casually out to face the three, trying to act like I had just
heard them.

"Hi," I called. "Jarod, good to see you again," I said as I shook his hand.
"Peter? Nice to meet you." Peter's face registered confusion, as Jarod spoke
up.

"Peter, this is Uncle Mike, Uncle Dave's partner."

Peter stood there, shaking my hand uncertainly, as Dave admonished Jarod
gently. "What have we told you? We're Mike and Dave - no 'Uncle' - it makes
us feel old."

"Make yourselves at home, boys," I said, showing them into the guest
bedroom. "You have a choice, you can either bunk down together in the double
bed, or toss a coin to see who gets the foldout, but we'll worry about that
later. For now, leave your things here, and come on out to the deck. We'll
have a coffee and settle in before we head up to Newtown, okay? And you,
handsome," I added, directing my words to Dave, "get out here and help me
with the coffees while these two unpack."

Dave took a pretend swipe at my arse with his hand. "Bossy, isn't he?" he
said in a loud whisper addressed to the boys, then turned and kissed me
quickly as I glared at him. We played our roles like seasoned actors.

Jarod stifled a grin as he replied, "Yes, sir!", and Dave followed me out of
the room. We ignored the open jaw and blushing face of Peter as we left.

>From the kitchen I could hear Jarod and Peter in conversation, muffled but
distinct.

"You're uncle is gay!" Peter said in a shocked voice.

"Uhh, yeah, he is," replied Jarod.

"But you never told me."

"I never thought about it. Dave and Mike have always been together. They're
just my uncles, I don't think of them as gay, just as them!" Jarod had
rehearsed his answers well, and I permitted myself a smile as I walked away
to join Dave on the patio with a tray of coffee cups and biscuits. The two
boys joined us a few minutes later.

"So, Peter, Jarod tells us you're on the cycling team together," stated Dave
as they sat with us.

"Y, yes, sir, uhh, I mean yes Dave," Peter stammered. The conversation was
then steered into neutral territory, as we discussed the team's chances,
school generally, remembered our own school achievements on the swimming
team and generally talked about whatever seemed to interest the two young
men. Slowly Peter relaxed in our company, joining in the discussion,
although I caught him several times staring intently at either myself or
Dave, and trying not to make his concentration obvious.

Soon enough, we packed up the remnants of our snack, and walked up to King
Street, into the throng of the Street Fair. Newtown being what it was, there
were thousands of people there, gay couples and singles, goths and punks,
straight couples with children, yuppies and old Greek men, all mixing
together in the cosmopolitan melting pot Dave and I enjoyed so much. The
stalls offered every imaginable ware, from "Save the Forests" bumper
stickers to bongs and incense sticks, from cheap Indian jewellery to very
expensive high-fashion clothing. Jarod and Peter both gasped and stared
quite often at the sights they were confronted with, and Dave and I held
hands as we strolled along, nodding to some of the familiar faces. Peter
could not keep his eyes still, turning this way and that, trying to take it
all in, and Jarod too was enthralled by the mix and variety of the people
and the goods on offer.

After several hours of wandering and looking, occasionally stopping to pick
something up and examine it, even to make a purchase here and there, Dave
declared that it was time to stop and sit down. We squeezed ourselves into
one of the tiny tables on the footpath outside a cafe, grabbing the four
chairs we needed, and collapsed as a very good looking and slightly
effeminate guy came to take our order. As he scribbled on his pad, he smiled
at us, and winked openly at Jarod and Peter, the latter of whom blushed deep
red, but whose eyes followed him as retreated to the kitchen, before
returning to fix on Jarod with a renewed gleam.

Finally, we returned home, tired but pleased with ourselves. Taking up our
seats on the patio again, I poured each of us, including the boys, a glass
of red wine as they began to examine the trinkets they had bought. Jarod
took his glass as if born to it, while Peter looked guilty as he sipped his
wine, then became bolder as none of us made any reference or comment about
it. The shadows lengthened as we sat and relaxed, chatting easily now. I
made a comment to Dave about spending way too much money on a set of
champagne flutes he'd purchased and he tried to look contrite as he turned
to me with a false frown.

"But you love me anyway, don't you?" he whined plaintively. Jarod chuckled,
and I reached my hand to Dave's head, pulling gently on his ear.

"Of course I do, handsome," I said, and leaned to him, kissing him tenderly,
and for longer than was necessary. As I sat back into my chair again, I saw
Peter staring goggle eyed at us, his cheeks turning bright scarlet for
possibly the hundredth time that day. Now was the chance I had been looking
for.

"Jarod," I said quietly, "would you grab another bottle of wine from the
rack for us?" He nodded and disappeared to do as asked. I turned to his
friend. "Peter, I've noticed you blushing, and staring at Dave and I, and at
some of the other gay guys in Newtown this afternoon." His embarrassment
returned as his eyes fell to the table. I went on in a soft, and hopefully
comforting voice. "It's okay, but I was wondering if you feel uncomfortable
being with us. Are you uneasy with gay people?"

"No, si ... no, Mike," he said in a tiny voice.

Dave took my hand, squeezing it in reassurance as I went on. "It's okay if
you aren't comfortable," I said. "We understand that some people have
difficulties accepting us. What we don't want is for you to be uneasy being
here, or to spoil the weekend for you or Jarod. We're not going to change,
or stop doing what we do, especially in our own home, but if you would be
happier, we can arrange to send both of you home. Dave can phone both
Jarod's parents and yours, and give them some excuse about having unexpected
guests arrive so that we've no room for you to stay if that would make
things easier for you."

Peter lifted his face to me suddenly. "NO!" he exploded, with an intensity
which surprised both of us. "I want to stay, if that's alright?"

"Of course it is! We were simply concerned that you might be feeling uneasy,
or threatened in some way."

Peter looked long and hard at me, as I noticed Jarod coming back to the deck
where we sat. Trying not to be obvious, I motioned for Jarod to wait where
he was. I could sense Peter was turning over in his head what to say in
response to my words.

"Mike," he began, softly, almost whispering. "I'm not uncomfortable at all.
I think it's fantastic that you and Dave are so open, and so loving. I guess
I'm just not used to seeing two guys together and not trying to hide how
they feel. Honestly, I'm really enjoying your hospitality and your company,
and I'd like to stay."

I smiled warmly at him, as Dave stepped into the conversation. "That's fine
by us, Peter," he said with a grin. "We're enjoying your company too. You're
a fine young man, and we're very happy that Jarod has such good friends.
Just so long as you aren't upset or nervous about being with gay people."

"Not at all, Dave," Peter answered quickly and at ease now. "I feel more at
home here with you than I have anywhere for a long while!" he added.

As he did, Jarod moved forward again, placing the bottle he was carrying on
the table. I looked up to see his face beaming at what he had heard. In my
head I repeated what we had told him when we planned the weekend - go
slowly, don't rush him!

"I'm so pleased you said that!" Jarod smiled to Peter as he sat down and I
re-filled all our glasses. A new, confident Jarod was emerging now. He
continued, "I have something to tell you, Peter, that I've wanted to say for
a while, but wasn't game." Slowly Jarod! I thought to myself. I could see
Dave too was watching both of them closely, concern on his face. "Peter, I'm
gay too." He stopped, sat back, and watched. I breathed a long slow sigh of
relief that Jarod hadn't blurted out his feelings for Peter, and looked to
the other boy.

Peter's face went white, then red. His mouth fell open as he tried to find
words and failed. He took several sharp quick breaths and tried again. "You
are?" the shock was obvious and real.

"Yep," said Jarod simply. "But I needed to know how you felt about gay guys
before I told you. That's one of the reasons I asked you to spend the
weekend with me at Dave and Mike's. Are you okay about this?" he asked, now
his face filled with concern as he looked to his friend for a reaction.

Peter took a long draft from his wine. He sat there with all three of us
looking at him, and I hoped we weren't 'ganging up' on him. He sat back and
lifted his eyes again, staring directly at Jarod. "Yeah, mate," he said at
last. "We're best friends aren't we? Of course I'm okay with it. I'm even
glad you told me."

"Apart from Dave and Mike, and my mum," Jarod said softly, "you're the first
person I've told."

Peter looked at him again, his eyes wide. "Wow!" he said. "Then I'm more
than glad, I'm honoured," he said sincerely.

"Thanks!" said Jarod, his eyes moist. Peter and he embraced, hugging each
other the way best friends do. After that silence descended for a while, as
Dave and I sat watching the boys, and Jarod and Peter retreated into their
own thoughts for a while. Both of the young men seemed to be wrestling with
themselves inside, but I guessed that the time for words from us was now
passed.

Surprisingly, it was Peter who broke the silence. "Mike," he said softly, do
you mind if I ask how you and Dave met? You know, how you knew that you were
right for each other?"

I looked at him in surprise, and Dave started to laugh. When Peter appeared
confused, I reassured him. "No, I don't mind at all," I smiled. "Please
ignore my rude husband! In fact, I'll let him tell you the story!"

Trying to keep his mirth under control, Dave detailed the whole tale of our
lives, from being at school together, to meeting each other when we were
involved with other people, the time when he moved to Melbourne, everything.
He spared no detail, and both boys listened intently, even Jarod had not
heard the full history of our courtship before. I let him go on as I quickly
threw together a light meal and brought it to the table. Dave finished up
with the story of our wedding day, and this time he included Jarod's
mother's comment about suspecting that Jarod might be gay, even back then.
All of us laughed, even Jarod, despite his reddening cheeks at hearing of
his mother's suspicions so long ago.

We sat and ate dinner as four friends, and drank more wine. The boys were
far from drunk, and I suspected that the alcohol was helping them speak
openly, so I didn't discourage them. Dave and I laid our souls bare to them
as they asked questions about our experiences, our feelings, the things that
had happened to us. It wasn't exactly a sex education lesson, but some of
the things they asked were quite personal. Still, we were determined to keep
the discussion frank and open, so we tried our best to answer everything
without blushing or holding back. And the two young men seemed to appreciate
our honesty.

As we relaxed again, our hunger sated, Peter looked from myself to Dave and
back again. He took a sip of wine, and addressed us both. "So, if you were
on the school swimming team together, why didn't you get together then,
instead of waiting for years and going through all the things you did?"

Jarod looked up quickly, and I suppressed a wry grin. "Because we were too
scared to tell each other, or anyone else back then,  that we were gay." I
said quietly, looking at Dave, whose eyes were sparkling.

Peter went silent at that, his eyes falling to the table. He looked up at
Jarod as if to speak, then stopped and examined the dirty plate in front of
him again. Sensing that he needed some privacy, I stood and began collecting
the dishes. "Hey, stud," I said to Dave, "give me a hand to clean up, okay?"
Dave nodded understanding and grabbed the rest of the crockery, following me
into the kitchen, as Jarod and Peter remained in their seats.

Dave and I busied ourselves at the counter, making as much noise as
possible. Peter sat for a moment then looked up at Jarod, who was sitting
with his own face down, seemingly concentrating on his shoelaces. "Jarod,"
he said in a near whisper.

Jarod looked up at him, wide eyed, his heart beating fast. "I, umm, oh god,
I don't know how to say this, ..."

"Just say it, mate," encouraged Jarod. "After everything else that's been
said tonight, nothing's gonna surprise me. We're friends, remember?"

Peter coughed, clearing his throat. "It's just, well, what Dave said, you
know, about him and Mike not being game to tell each other how they felt at
school ..."

"Yeah?"

"Well, I, umm, shit!" stammered Peter. Jarod leaned over to him, taking one
of Peter's hands in his, and squeezing reassuringly. Peter took another
breath, then blurted out quickly, as if he were worried he might not get
through his sentence, "Hell, Jarod, that's how I feel about you! I dream
about being with you, I want to be with you, but I've been too scared to
tell you how I felt in case you got mad, or didn't want to have anything to
do with me. I'm gay too, and I was wondering how you felt about me?"

Jarod didn't answer him with words. He grinned a huge smile, his chest
almost bursting with happiness, and leaned forward and kissed Peter long and
gently. I saw them from where Dave and I were, and nudged my man in the
ribs. "Look!" I whispered, indicating the boys. Dave glanced at them and
smiled.

We each took two mugs of coffee and headed for the deck, coughing to
announce our arrival. Peter and Jarod separated quickly, both looking
embarrassed, as I sat down pretending I hadn't noticed a thing. It was all
too much for Dave. He began to laugh, his body shaking with mirth, until he
clamed down enough to ask, "So, anything you two would like to share with us
oldies?"

That got all of us laughing then, as the moment passed, tension disappearing
and Peter and Jarod feeling comfortable again. Jarod announced proudly,
"Peter and I are going steady!"

Peter grinned self-consciously yet again. "Congratulations!" I said.

Dave just beamed at our nephew and his new boyfriend. "Time for bed!" he
declared with a wink. "Do you guys want me to get out the trundle?"

"Umm, no thanks," said Peter, the blood returning to his cheeks as he held
Jarod's hand tightly.

"Then, goodnight guys!" I said. "And let me assure you, the walls are very
thick!" I grinned widely at them both and took Dave's hand in mine as we
began to lock up the house for the night. As Peter and Jarod disappeared
into their room, I caught Jarod's eye, and whispered very quietly, "Just in
case - there's lube in the nightstand." Now it was his turn to blush, but I
pretended not to notice.

Dave made love to me that night with a vitality and an intensity we hadn't
known for some time. As he came, filling me with his seed, I shook with
delight and emptied myself over both of us. Lying there together, recovering
as my cum squelched between us, I clenched my sphincter around his still
hard shaft, buried within me. "I love you," I said with feeling.

"I love you too," he replied. "Do you think they'll be okay?"

"Well we can't shield them from the problems they'll face, but at least
we've stopped them making our first mistake," I smiled to him. A tremendous
sense of having done something really important descended on us as Dave
started to move back and forward inside me again.

"Ready for another go?" he asked mischievously.

"I'm game if you are," I hissed back with a lust-filled laugh.



The End.

This story is a fantasy, it is not real and only happened in my imagination.
YOU MUST REMEMBER that in the real world, you can DIE from having unsafe
sex. It is your right and your duty to make sure that condoms are always
used, whether you are giving or receiving. It doesn't matter how good
looking or how ugly he is, and it doesn't matter whether you are top or
bottom, USE A CONDOM!


Comments, complaints or compliments? Email me at iainlthr@hotmail.com