Date: Sun, 13 Jan 2019 11:45:35 +0000 (UTC) From: jagfantsw Subject: A Kid Named Ryan, Chap 5 From jagfantsw@yahoo.com A Kid Named Ryan [If you are enjoying this and/or other stories on Nifty, please make sure you make a donation to support them. Thanks. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html] Chapter 5 Ryan came into the kitchen shortly after I finished talking to my dad. He asked, while rubbing his eyes, "Who were you talking to?" "My dad." "What about?" "Trying to figure out next steps to help you and make sure you get what is best for you. There's coffee over on the counter." "No thanks. I don't drink it." "Want anything else, then?" "Just some water right now." I got up and first gave him a hug. Ryan seemed at peace for the moment, but I was sure it was more a sense of not knowing what was coming next. I was just hoping he was okay with me and what I had started doing to try and help him. Not long after 9:00, dad called and gave me the phone number of a family law attorney in town. His name was Jim Braselton and came highly recommended by our family's attorney back home. Our attorney, Mike Lee, would take the initial lead on issues concerning the accident itself and, if necessary, would get someone else involved when the time came. I called Mr. Braselton immediately who wanted to meet with Ryan and me as soon as possible. "We can probably be there within the hour," I said. And we agreed to meet at his office around 10:00 which was only a few minutes drive my place. Ryan had slept in the cleanest clothes he had, so I suggested we go by his place to get him something better suited for a meeting at an attorney's office. But when we got to his house, there was a notice posted on the door by the local police - "Crime Scene. Do not enter." Ryan saw it and said, "What the hell is this?" "I know it's difficult to understand, but with the way your parents died, there's going to be an investigation. So, let's go and meet with Mr. Braselton. He may be able to help you get inside to get some clothes and other things." As we headed to my car, Ryan shook his head saying, "I can't believe this is happening." Pulling out of the driveway, I noticed Ryan looking longingly at his house. Tears were flowing from his left eye, the one I could see. Stopping the car, I wiped the tears from his face with my thumb and then put my arm around his shoulders. "It'll be alright in time, Ryan. Let's just take this one step at a time - together." He nodded his head and took another look at the only place he knew as home as we drove away. At the attorney's office, the secretary knew who we were even before I could say much. She brought Mr. Braselton out to the waiting area and introductions were made. He looked at Ryan, offered his sympathies and said, "I will do everything to make sure you don't become a ward of the State, son." "A what?" I broke in, "'Ward of the State' means that you become the state government's responsibility - most likely with a foster family." "I don't want that," Ryan said as he looked at me, then at the attorney, then back at me. "I want to live with you." Jim chimed in, "Let's go to my office so we can speak privately." In his office, he asked Ryan lots of questions about his parents, whether there were any family members to take care of him and why he wanted to live with me. Ryan's inner strength was pretty amazing to me at this point as he answered the attorney's questions. Eventually, I was asked, "So are you prepared to take care of Ryan if we can get a judge to agree?" "Absolutely," I said. Ryan added immediately, "If it's not, then I'll just run away." "Ryan," I said and turned him to look at me, "you can't say things like that. I'm sure that Mr. Braselton would agree that the government doesn't take remarks like that lightly. You gotta stayed composed. Remember, we're in this together." "Mr. Morrison's right, Ryan," Jim said. "Let me and him do the talking for you unless you're asked a question directly by a judge or someone official. If you want this to work in your favor, you're going to need to be careful what you say." Jim then looked at me and said, "You know, Mark, if you are serious about taking him in, you're opening yourself to a lot of scrutiny by the State?" "I figured as much." "And since you're a single man, there may be more scrutiny than if a traditional couple - husband and wife - was being considered." "I know. But we're talking for the time being, not about the long haul, yet. Right now I think we just want to stabilize things for Ryan with me. As we move forward, then we can talk about what the long-term will be." "Good. You understand. What I'll do today is work on a motion to allow Ryan to remain with you for a period of 60 days. The judge will probably not grant that length of time, so we'll accept 30 days. Know that someone from Children and Family Services will need to interview you soon so their lawyers can agree for the temporary living arrangements for Ryan with you." Jim then looked at Ryan and asked, "Is that okay with you?" Ryan nodded his approval and then asked him, "When can I get in my house? It's marked as a crime scene." "Oh, yeh," Jim replied. "I didn't think of that. Let me work on getting a request to allow you to be able to get in to get necessary, personal items by the end of the day. But it may be tomorrow, too. Do you have enough clothes to wear right now?" I immediately jumped in and said, "We just returned from soccer camp last night after we got the news. So, for the time being," I turned to Ryan, "let's get back to my place, get all those clothes of yours washed and take it from there. If you need something else, we'll just go and buy it." "Okay," Ryan answered. With that we finished our meeting with Mr. Braselton and drove back to my condo. Ryan remarked that he was happy with what he heard from him and hoped that it would all work out. "It will," I said. "I think he'll fight hard for you right now. Let's see what happens as the day goes on." Once we arrived at my place, we got all of Ryan's clothes from camp and sorted them for the washer. I asked him if we could go ahead and wash the tee shirt he had on and had slept in. He agreed. As he removed it, I got to see that wonderful, toned chest of his. All that conditioning, weight lifting and playing soccer certainly showed well on him. I could feel my insides churn and my penis getting plump, so I moved as fast as I could to gather up the first load of laundry and get it in the washer. When I came back to the kitchen, Ryan was sitting on one of the chairs in the pair of gym shorts he had worn to meet Mr. Braselton and socks. I thought to myself how wonderful he looked despite all that had happened in just a short amount of time. And, again, I knew that I couldn't get attached to Ryan in that way. But, being honest, I knew it was going to be difficult. Just after noon my dad called to give me an update on what was going on from his attorney, He already had in his possession the initial accident report which noted that charges were pending against the truck driver. Dad explained that this probably meant he was driving under the influence or had surpassed the number of hours he could drive in a day. Either way, if that was the case and the driver was charged, Ryan would be in for a nice financial settlement from the trucking company. Dad then asked, "No one knows that Ryan's with you except for a few people, right?" When I confirmed that, he said that I needed to make sure it stays that way for as long as possible since we didn't want other lawyers stalking Ryan or me with settlement offers. Dad's last admonition, "Let lawyers talk to lawyers." I cooked hamburgers on the grill on my balcony for lunch and Ryan and I finished getting his clothes washed, dried and folded. It was now around 3:00 Friday afternoon and I was tired so I told Ryan I was going to head to my room and try to get a short nap. "Okay. Can I come with you?" "Sure, why not." We climbed onto my queen size bed, Ryan still without a shirt despite the fact that there were cleans one he could have put on. I tend to sleep on my side; I did so and there he was right in my eyesight. I hadn't had anyone in a bed with me for years so it was a shock, at first, to realize what was happening. I closed my eyes in an attempt to not stare at Ryan as well as what proved, initially, a feeble attempt to fall asleep. "You've got a hard on," I heard. As I sighed and opened my eyes I said, "I don't know if it's a good thing for you to be in bed with me." "Why not?" "I think you can figure that out if you've noticed my dick is hard." "Are you afraid?" I sat up, looked at him and confessed, "Yeh, Ryan, I am. We've had a lot happen this year between us as well as in the last day. To be honest, it's all made me feel wanted and needed by you. And, to tell you the truth, I've always thought you were kinda hot. So, being in bed with you has triggered something in me that I may want, but know I can't have." "Why not?" "First, the emotional state your in is way too fragile. Second, if you and I are going to be serious about trying to get you to live with me, there can't be anything that would make anyone suspicious that something is going on between us. Third, I promised my dad that I wasn't doing all this for you because I'm gay." "Oh," he responded with a sense of being unsure about the list I just put in front of him. "But," he then said, "if all this wasn't going on, maybe...." And his voice trailed off, not completing his thought. "No, because something I left out is the fact you're a minor. If I got caught doing any kind of sexual stuff with you, I'd be in jail, lose my teaching certificate and you'd be in foster care until you turn 18." "Damn." "So, can we promise each other, now, nothing will happen between us? Okay?" He responded, "Okay," with more than a hint of disappointment. As I closed my eyes, I fully sensed he was next to me, and I also could tell he had placed his hand on the pillow right next to my face. I suspected he wanted to reach out and touch me, but for whatever reason, he resisted.