Date: Sun, 9 Jun 2013 20:05:49 -0700
From: D_M <mcleodwrite@gmail.com>
Subject: Alex & Timmy Part II, Ch 9

Alex & Timmy

Daniel McLeod mcleodwrite@gmail.com

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Part II, Ch 9


On a gorgeous sunny June day in the high desert of New Mexico, I sat in a
row of white chairs shoulder to shoulder with about 150 other friends,
family members, and loved ones all eagerly awaiting our own graduate's trip
across the small stage. Most of the graduates sat with friends in the rows
of chairs on the lawn, in their robes and mortarboards, fidgeting, rolling
programs, ready to be FINISHED. Two graduates sat with several of the
school's trustees on the stage. My beloved was one of those two young
people. He'd completed his International Baccalaureate and was the
valedictorian of his class. Tim was fairly mortified to be delivering a
speech for those assembled, and would have preferred to not, until his
father made a plea. James was in the audience, too, sitting beside me. We'd
seen him several times in the past two years for brief visits, always
without Jaden, today being no exception.



The crowd assembled was small enough that Tim and I could easily make eye
contact. Every time I saw him on the stage, my throat knotted up with
emotion. Two days shy of his eighteenth birthday, Timothy Henner stood 6'3"
tall. He was still lean but the past couple of years had brought more
definition and additional mass. He had a light coating of sandy hair that
seemed to be darkening as was the hair on his head. When I thought of what
was under his robe, my cock chubbed up in a nanosecond. Timmy's cock had a
growth spurt right along with his legs. In our mirrored comparison, he was
fast approaching me in length and girth, much to my absolute glee. Feeling
him inside me was the most immensely pleasurable sensation....nearly as
great as being inside of him.



Tim held my gaze as I thought about his body, and from the intensity of his
stare, I knew that we were of a mind at that moment. Rosa came to the
podium and welcomed those assembled and the program began. First the
salutatorian spoke, then the chair of the board of trustees for the school.
James got a round of applause for having grown the school's endowment from
the respectable to the enviable, and helping fund the Henner Performing
Arts Center, an incredible new building with every possible sort of space
for music, theatre, and production arts.



Tim was the last speaker before degrees were granted. I'd edited his
speech, so I knew the content, which was a good thing because when he
spoke, I was so nervous and so aware of the murmurs and applause around
me—so swollen with pride—I would not have retained his words. He built his
speech on the *power of yes*, and wove evidence of the importance of
embracing life, being flexible to its unexpected turns. He offered some
quotes and gave a couple of examples. Then, he ended his speech looking
directly at me, smiling softly, with a bit that he hadn't included in the
version I read. He said, *Today and in the ensuing days, we will all likely
be asked the questions, `Who helped you? To whom are you most grateful?'* *We
all, no doubt, have at least one person we will note. For my part, I want
to say a public thank you today to the man without whom my life would in no
measure be the amazing, incredible life I am fortunate to live. He can't be
with us today, having moved on to another realm, but I will am forever
grateful to Ken Riley for his wisdom and  guidance. *



Tim quickly finished with, *Thank you all. Best wishes to the friends,
family, and dear educators here today. We are all so grateful for your
presence in our lives.*



Rosa looked startled as she began the graduation process by calling names.
The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur. I stood with the rest of the
crowd when Timmy received a standing ovation.



James and I waited for Tim to join us and chatted about Tim's plan for a
gap year. James said softly to me, leaning in to whisper in my ear, "I
understand that Ken was an important person in your life, Alex. Timothy was
right to give him thanks."



I could only nod, as I was still overwhelmed by Timmy's remembrance of the
man who shaped my life. The young man whom James sired and whom I loved,
very patiently shook hands and made his way through the throng to meet us.
His father hugged him hard, leaving Timmy utterly surprised. Tim hugged
James back and they whispered intensely quietly for a couple of minutes
leaving me to look nonchalant and not curious. Then, James said, "Shall we
make our way to the reception? I understand that there's a cake from this
incredible bakery in town that I'd much like to sample."



Again, Tim and I were surprised. Did James actually just attempt a bit of
humor?



"Yea, I've heard of that joint," I quipped. I understand that their baker
is a no account slacker."



Tim just rolled his eyes and said, "Them's fightin' words, buster. I happen
to know for a FACT that the baker can not only bake cakes that make you
debate which is better, cake or sex, he also plays a mean Fender Strat and
can stop you dead in your tracks with his sexy baritone!"



I was bright red and wondered if Tim had lost his mind with his less than
subtle comments. Undaunted, James said breezily, "Sounds like a man worth
knowing," and led the way to the tent and the throng.



As we walked, Tim and I automatically loosened our ties, slid out of our
jackets, and rolled up our shirtsleeves. James watched us and grinned,
commenting, "Did you two rehearse that?"



Two curious expressions yielded his grin and explanation: "You both
loosened your ties, doffed jackets and rolled shirtsleeves, nearly in
unison. I just wondered if you rehearsed. I wonder what else you've
practiced."



I was still shocked by Tim's earlier comment and now it was apparent that
James WAS teasing us. I shot a warning look at Tim and he grabbed me around
the neck and casually said, out loud, "Yes, actually, Alex, I just told my
father that you and I are lovers. I planned to do that on graduation day
almost from the start."



James smiled more broadly and said with exaggerated patience, "Indeed, you
did, son, and what did I tell you?"



Timmy took my hand and said, "You told me that you had known for a long
while, and that you wished that someday you had a love that brought as much
joy to you as Alex and I do to one another.'"



Then, stopping, Tim said, "I'm sorry, Alex, I honestly didn't intend to
make a unilateral decision to tell my father; I just felt in my gut that it
was right."



"James?" I croaked.



"Never fear, Alex. I meant exactly what I said to my son. You have
demonstrated your love, your caring, and your wisdom where Tim is concerned
for these past years. As he will be of age in a few days, I wanted you two
to know that you needn't burden yourselves with a confession."



"Jaden?" I asked.



"Ah, yes, my wife. She and I are divorcing. Jaden has had some emotional
troubles for some years, and we've determined that being apart makes more
sense for her—and for us. Son, it's my turn to apologize for letting you
know in such a casual way. I imagine that our divorce will be a bit of a
non-event in your life, much as she has been an absent parent. I realize
that I've not been much present, either, and I do greatly hope that the
future will see us grow closer. Both of you, I mean, uh, all of us."



James blushed then and I hugged him and said, "You have no idea what your
blessing of our relationship means to me, James. I am incredibly grateful.
Loving Tim was never a choice for me, it simply happened the moment we met.
I didn't really ever imagine that this time would come; days away from his
majority; blessings from his parent; and still as much or more in love as
the day we met. I'm dumbfounded."



Tim hugged us both and said, "I love you both. Thank you."



We stood in a triad hug and then stepped back, suddenly aware of our
surroundings. "We'd best get on, or Rosa will be on a loudspeaker looking
for us," Tim said and James and I groaned, both knowing her impatience.



"Indeed," James said as we briskly covered the remaining path to the tent.



We spent another hour glad handing and chatting with parents and Tim's
schoolmates. Rosa made a big deal over the cake, and it DID turn out
fabulously. It was one of Tim's favorites, white cake with lemon curd
between the layers and a very light cream cheese frosting.



We finally managed to extract ourselves and as we walked to our vehicles,
James asked for Tim to give him a ride to his hotel rather than joining us
back at the house. "This has been a grand trip and I couldn't possibly be
more proud of you, Tim or more happy for both of you. I am, however, still
jet lagged from travel and tired from stress with your mother. I am
thinking that I will bid you farewell this afternoon. I'm going to sneak
off for a couple of days R&R before I head home. I have an early flight out
in the morning to a retreat."



Then as though we'd hugged regularly all our lives, James hugged me again.
"Let's chat before his birthday," he said. He got in the passenger's seat
and Tim got in to drive the Range Rover, our purchase during our first
winter in New Mexico.



I went to the driver's side window and tousled Tim's hair. "Home soon,
babe," he said. I just shook my head and smiled, waving one last time to
James as they drove off.



I drove straight home, hit the automatic gate opener, and was greeted by a
now five year old Barkley, who was joined by his partner in crime, a
miniature horse named Dante. Dante, smaller than Barkley, another Dev
rescue. He called one evening a year ago. Tim answered the phone and talked
conspiratorially for thirty minutes. As I cooked dinner, Tim *oohed*, *aahed
*, and *oh my godded *then hung up the phone.



He helped me put dinner on the table, and I waited for details. We sat and
he inhaled the aroma of the chicken mole, moaning and groaning his praise.



I poured myself a glass of syrah and grinned at my lover's enthusiasms.



"Oh my god! Babe, this is bloody marvelous!"



"Thanks, Timothy. It isn't too bad, is it?"



"Uh, Alex?"



The phone call results, I knew it.



"Yes, Tim?"



"Dev was on the phone..."



"So I gathered."



"He has a truly unique opportunity for us," Tim said, unable to keep a
ridiculous grin from his face.



"Oh, my god, I'm thoroughly captivated already, Tim. WhatEVER kind of
ridiculous thing does he want us to do now? Will this involve more zoning
variances from the City? Or, perhaps I need to fly home to hire an attorney
again?"



"Oh, no, nothing like that," he said, not quite sounding convincing.



"Okay, why won't you just tell me, young man?"



"Alright. Someone brought Dev a horse. A miniature horse. Like REALLY
little, shorter than Barkley. He needs us to take the horse. He's a stud,
and Dev thinks that he'd earn back his expenses in stud fees. Dev says that
the horse can live in the house, he's housebroken. Barkley would love him,
we both think."



I looked at Timmy with a blank face. "You want for us to have a live-in
stallion to keep our dog company? And, we are to manage this animal's
tricks and charge a fee for them? What are we running, a four-leg bordello?"



"Well, yea. He comes with a little cart to pull...and besides, for the past
couple of years you HAVE been running a dungeon wherein you take incredibly
nasty and devious liberties with a minor. At least charging a stud fee for
a mini-horse is legal."



For a few seconds, I contemplated Tim's future on the planet. He saw the
spark in my eyes, but then, I laughed so hard I cried, to my lover's
lasting relief.



And, ten days later, Dante arrived, complete with cart, tack, and an
hilarious note from Dev that promised us his first born child as a thank
you for taking the equine.



I'd gotten used to being greeted by Barkley and Dante, but I still grinned
at the interplay between the two of them. Dante nipped Barkley's butt and
Barkley would get in play stance to goad Dante, then quickly leap around
and nipe Dante's legs, a dangerous sport, because our equine had a killer
kick.



Making sure the gate closed, I pulled the Jag into the garage and joined
the herd.



Entering the house, I wore my usual deep smile inside. I loved the work we
did to create our new home. Traditional adobe with vigas (*beams*)
supporting latillas (literally, *sticks*) in the ceiling, white walls, rich
tones on the walls in the form of tapestries, and our art, bold, colorful,
and black and white, all mixed together to create a whole that both of us
found comfortable and reflective of our lives. We blended the architecture
with various design elements, helped along by Brady, my dear friend from
college who is now an architect,.



Brady is bisexual. In our first few weeks of friendship, we learned of our
common interest. When Brady went to architecture school, he often told me
of the ideas he had for dungeons and play spaces. I talked Ken into hiring
him for the dungeon back home several years ago.



I hired Brady to work on the building we bought for the bakery and such,
and that partnership extended to our house project. Brady's talent for
blending traditional, antique and contemporary fascinated both of us and we
were delighted by the results. We made Brady work so hard, he moved to
town.



As I crossed the living room to our bedroom, I wiggled my toes in the deep
rich carpet. I confess that it was a ridiculous expense—custom carpet with
southwestern design. I love to be barefoot and I hate cold feet. Since I
never had any expectation of having money in my life, and since money
happened to me, I've worked hard to be unchanged by its presence, other
than to use it to help people. In the cases of the carpet (and the dungeon,
of course), I freely admit: they were and are the whims of pure indulgence.



I changed clothes, donning black jockstrap and a pair of dark green silk
lounge pants. I added a black leather armband to my left bicep, a recent
gift from Tim. I'd let my hair grow a fair bit since coming to New Mexico,
so it curls all over my head now. I'm starting to get just a tiny bit of
salt mixed in with the dark. Tim loves that. I am not so sure. I think I'm
too young still for grey, especially given that I'm planning to marry a
young man nearly half my age.



I laid out similar attire for Timmy, black pants and a dark green jock. I
grinned as I imagined him home. I queued up the evening's soundtrack, dark,
driving, persistent, building in intensity over several hours, then
mellowing, bringing us back to Earth. Over the years, Tim and I had come to
rely on music as code. He would know exactly what was on my mind when he
heard the first notes before he even got in the house. Similarly, when he
was home and I arrived, I could learn about his day and his frame of mind
just by hearing the notes.



Feeling the heat of desire rapidly building inside my body, I shot Tim a
text: *Amazing day. Your Dad? Your Ken piece was incredible. I love you so
much. Lots to talk about, but first, I need you at my feet. *



Sorry for the short chapter. I'm looking forward to writing more tomorrow.
Hope everything is good with all of you. Daniel