Marcus Shepard

How great is the wonder

Of heavenly and earthly things!


This story is about a relationship between a man of about 27 years, and a boy of 13. If this does not meet with your approval, go to your browsers address line and delete all the words you don't agree with, starting with the name of the story, and working your way back. At this point, no there is no explicitly sexual activity in the story; that may or may not happen later... If you are only trying to get your rocks off, you might want to go somewhere else. Also, the main characters in this story are Wiccan, if you are offended by that or depictions of Pagan rituals, read no farther. Just for clarity, the "Horned One" is a pagan harvest/fertility god, and has no link the Devil in Christianity. As always, his never happened, I was never here, and you didn't see anything...

Breakfast at Tiffany's

Part 4

"So what should I call you? `Simon' or `Joey'?"

"I don't know. I mean, I like it when you call me `Joey', it makes me feel nice. But I don't want other people to call me that, just you..." He whispered the last two words, looking shyly down at the table.

Marc leaned forward and gently lifted Simon's chin, forcing the boy to look at him. "How about this; I call you `Simon' in public, and we keep `Joey' as my special name for you. Would that work?"

They smiled at each other. "Yeah that would be wonderful."

Tiffany had long since cleared away the remnants of breakfast, and now started shooing them out the door, saying that she needed to open the restaurant. While Simon was changing back into his now clean and dry clothes, Tiffany pulled Marc aside and in no uncertain terms told him that if he fucked up, or in any way hurt Simon, the next meal he ate there would kill him... And that Simon's favorite ice cream was strawberry swirl.

It was still raining heavily when they left, so they quickly scurried into Marc's car. "So, umm... What do you want to do, Joey?" After some deliberation they decided that the movies were definitely the way to go. Marc also ascertained that Simon's parents weren't expecting him until late that night. Simon also mentioned that he could probably get permission to spend the night.

When they got to the theater the parking lot was nearly deserted they parked as close as they could and ran for the doors. When they got inside they saw that "Return of the King" was due to start soon. They walked up to the window and as Marc was reaching into his pocket for his wallet, Simon handed the money to the women. She smiled at what she obviously thought was a son trying to treat his father. Marc decided not to spoil the boy's fun so just smiled and asked him if he wanted anything to eat or drink during the movie. Simon nodded and charged off towards the concessions stand. By the time Marc caught up with him he had already handed the person the money and placed the order. Marc was amazed when all the food was laid out. Two large drinks, a large box of gummy worms, a large bag of Skittles, and the hugest tub of popcorn Marc had ever seen. Marc looked down at the scrawny boy in complete disbelief. They had just finished breakfast less then an hour beforehand!!!

Seeing his bemused expression, Simon said "I was hungry..." With a shrug of his shoulders he handed one of the drinks and the gummy worms to Marc.

As they were walking towards the theater Marc said, "It's really nice of you to want to pay, but I would really rather it was me. I don't want you to have to spend all of your allowance on this... I'm sure I make more anyway. Please Joey; let me pay from now on."

Simon blushed and looked down briefly. Then he giggled and looked back up at Marc. "Actually I blew all my money yesterday on strings... You paid for all of this." Upon seeing Marc's look of utter incomprehension Simon took out a Ziploc baggy full of money. "You left it at the mall, remember? You want it back?" Simon asked, holding the money Marc had thrown at him the first time they met. Marc knelt down before Simon and placed the food on the ground beside them. He wrapped his hands around Simon's hand and the money.

"You know Joey, you're a really special person. I was a fool to leave you behind." He leaned forward and kissed Simon's forehead gently. "Keep the money, I'd rather have you." He then wrapped his arms around the boy and hugged him. They remained like that, hugging one another in the middle of the hall for several minutes. Finally they got up and entered the theater.

Due to the heavy rain the theater was nearly empty. There were a few people scattered around, but Marc and Simon had no trouble finding and area in the last row, well away from everyone else. They placed the tub of popcorn on the arm rest between them, and settled in to watch the move. Shortly after it started Marc stretched, and placed his arm over the back of Simon's chair. Simon leaned back and rested his head on Marc's arm. Marc moved his hand down to gently squeeze Simon's shoulder, and left his hand lying there. They sat like that until halfway through the move when Simon got up to use the restroom, and dispose of the now empty popcorn tub.

When he returned he lifted the armrest and while gauging Marc' response, slid in right next to him. Marc smiled down at Simon, and wrapped his arm around him, holding him close while he whispered to Simon what he had missed. Sensing Marc's acceptance, Simon burrowed in closer, and rested his head against Marc's chest for the rest of the movie.

When the movie was over they went back out to Marc's car. They rain had abated somewhat, but there was still a steady drizzle. They sat there in silence for a few minutes. Finally Simon said, "I umm... I had a really nice time with you Marc."

"I did too Joey, thank you..." Another pause, stretching out longer then comfortable. "I ahh... I guess I should umm... take you home."

"Please Marc, could I stay with you tonight?" Simon implored.

"I... I really don't know if that would be a good idea Joey... I mean, well I'm... and you're... and well, you know..." Came Marc's stuttering and halted reply.

"Please Marc. My parents won't be home tonight, and I would much rather spend the time with you then home alone." Simon pleaded.

Marc took a deep breath, thinking about all the time he spent alone, and how little he liked it. It would be nice to have someone else around... but would it be safe? Simon is a minor after all... Marc looked over at him, looked into his pleading eyes, and knew beyond any doubt that there was no way he could ever say no to the precious boy beside him. "Are your parents home now?"

"No," Came Simon's sullen reply. "They left town last night and won't be home till Monday. I told them I would be out today, so my Mom won't try calling until tonight. If I call and tell them I won't be home, they won't care..." Simon sounded exceptionally dejected due to the apathy of his parents.

"All right... I'll take you home and you can call your parents and gather anything you might need for tonight."

"I can stay over at your place?" Simon asked disbelievingly.

"Yes, you can spend the night with me tonight" Marc sighed, still not entirely sure it was a good idea.

Simon gave Marc directions, and soon they pulled up outside Simon's house. Simon took Marc's hand and led him into his domicile. They went into the living room and Simon moved over to the phone.

"Hello Mom? Fine. Listen, I'm going to spend the night over at a friends tonight..." he glanced over at Marc, "... tomorrow night too. Yes mother. Ok, see you Monday. Bye."

Marc arched an eyebrow at him, but Simon just shrugged innocently, and gave him a shy grin.

Simon went up stairs to gather his things, as Marc surveyed the living room. It was picturesque, like something straight out of a showroom. The couch with the coffee table before it, flanked on either side by chairs, angled in just so. The lamp, end tables, coasters, through rug, everything was there. There was even a book of photographs strategically placed on the coffee table. It was beautiful, but it wasn't real. There where no pictures, or knick-knacks that people collect over their lives. The living room felt completely unlived in. He started to wonder around the public rooms of the house. All beautiful, but all completely devoid of any personality. This was a show house. A house you go into and decide to buy, and then start to fill with the memories of a lifetime. Only this house had never been filled. It was perfect to a fault.

He went to the base of the stairs and called up to Simon, asking if he could come up. After receiving affirmation, he ascended the stairs, and walked to the door of Simon's room. He stood at the door and laughed. The doorway was like a portal into another universe. The room was a mess. Stuff scattered everywhere, pictures and posters and games. This was a room that had an occupant. Marc knew at once that Simon's room must drive his parents to conniption fits on a regular basis, but was the only room in the house worth being in. "You almost ready?"

"Yeah, just about." Simon said, stuffing a few final items into his bag and grabbing his violin case. "Ok, let's go."

They went back out to the car, and Marc drove them to the local supermarket. They wondered around getting various vegetables, some ground beef, tomato sauce, and some sodas to drink. Marc also made a point of getting some strawberry swirl ice cream. "What's all this for?" Asked Simon.

"I'm going to make spaghetti for dinner."

"You can cook?"

"Of course I can cook!"

"Then why do you have to eat at Tiffany's every day?"

"Cause I like her food. Tiffany's the one that taught me too cook. Besides, I can't do breakfast foods very well, and don't have time to fix lunch, so she handles those for me. Come on, lets get checked out, and then I can show you just how good a cook I am."

They checked out and went to Marc's house. Simon was amazed. Marc's house was within easy riding distance of his own. The house was most definitely lived in. It was nice and clean, but also comfortably crowded. There where bookshelves overflowing with books on everything. Pictures and paintings on all the walls. Odds and ends on tables. It was nice. It looked like a happy place. Simon loved the house. It was comfortable and full of memories. He loved that here were books and candles everywhere. Most of all he loved the shapes. Most building he had been in were modeled after the rectangle. In this house all the rooms where rounded. Circles overlapping with circles to make rooms both concave and convex, forming nooks for reading and prominent walls for pictures. It was odd, but artistically pleasant.

As soon as they walked in Marc took off his shoes, and Simon followed his example, placing them on the rug with the other shoes next to the door. There was also a coat rack for them to put their coats on. Simon looked around the living room, noticing with both interest and pleasure the overwhelming contrast between Marc's home and his own. A waist high bookshelf ran along the arc of the outside wall, filled to capacity with books. Resting upon it were a variety of plants, mostly ferns and flowers, and one lovely cactus. Also on top of the shelves were various pictures and mementos. Upon closer inspection Simon was delighted to see an assortment of little green army men interspersed within the plants. For all intents and purposes, it looked like a base hidden deep within the jungle. There were even some with dessert camouflage around the cactus.

Marc led Simon into the kitchen to put the groceries away until it was time to cook dinner. The kitchen was large, with plenty of space for both of them to move about freely. The dinning room was separated form the kitchen by a breakfast bar. There was a beautiful oak table with matching chairs and several different prints of Monet, most of them of water lilies. There was a shelf full of general interest books; the type of book you pick up and flip through until something catches your eye. The kitchen even had a shelf with all kinds of cook books on it.

Once the food was stashed away, Marc led Simon into a bedroom. This room looked like it belonged more in Simon's house then Marc's "This is one of the guestrooms. You can sleep in here tonight." Marc said

The room had a full sized bed with a wooden head and foot board. In the center of the bed was a neatly folded pile of sheets, blankets and pillows. Simon put down his things, and together they made the bed. The room had a bookshelf, that compared to all the others- was practically empty. There was also an end table with an alarm clock and a dresser, with a mirror and what appeared to be an oil lamp both resting on top. There was also a chair with a lamp, and best of all, a large bay window with a bench.

They went through another door and into a bathroom with a large bathtub and separate shower. Marc pointed out a closet with towels, washcloths and other assorted linins. There was another door to the bathroom leading to another guest room. Marc showed Simon the den and his own room. There was one door they didn't go through, but Marc made no comment on it so Simon just assumed it was a closet.

They went back to the kitchen and Marc made them a light lunch before starting to prepare the sauce for dinner. Simon quickly joined in and in no time at all they had pot simmering on the stove. Marc stood behind Simon while he was stirring the sauce, and gently messaged his shoulders and neck while they talked.

They spent the rest of the afternoon talking. Simon played his violin for Marc. Marc worked on the sauce with Simon helping. They spent the time with one another, growing closer and probing the depths of each other's souls. At one point Marc mentioned that he had a previous obligation for the evening, and that some people would be over later that night. Simon said that would be fine, as he was used to the social gatherings that his parents were found of holding.

They sat down to dinner at 6:30 and enjoyed a wonderful meal. Marc did playfully make a few snide comments about not being able to cook. Once they had eaten their fill, they put away the leftovers and cleaned up the kitchen. They went into the living room and Marc put some light music on. By silent agreement they both selected a book to read, Simon curling up against Marc on the couch.

At about 9p.m. Simon got up, stretching and yawning, saying he wanted to bathe before bed. Much to his surprise Marc also rose and fallowed him into the bathroom. Once there, Marc started to draw the bath, using exceptionally hot water.

"You going to join me? There's plenty of space if you want to..."

"No, not tonight. I just wanted to have you use something for your bath." Marc opened a cupboard of what appeared to be bundles of cheesecloth and started to smell them. Finally selecting one, he dropped it into the bath. Once the tub was full, marc turned off the water. The sent of lavender and roes filled the room. "I know how hard it is to sleep in a strange place and you look like you could use a good night's sleep. It'll help you relax and sleep tonight. Just don't fall asleep in the tub," Marc laughed.

The scented steam billowing up form the tub indicated that the water was still quit warm. "Looks a bit hot..." Simon commented.

"That's the idea. Go ahead and take a shower first and get cleaned up. By the time you finish the water should be fine. Then you can soak and enjoy. Well, I'll leave you to it. Have fun Joey." He said and left the room.

Simon took his shower, washing and rinsing thoroughly. He then entered the bath. It was still hot, but comfortably so. He sank down until just his face was above the surface. He let the warmth envelop him.

Around 10:30 Marc went to check on Simon. Seeing that he was still in the bathroom, he knocked and called out. Getting no answer, Marc slowly opened the door, warning that he was coming in. When he opened the door he saw Simon, still immersed in the bath, and nearly asleep. He walked over and started draining the tub. He lifted Simon out and had to hold him erect in order to dry him, gently kissing his shoulder, arms, and chest as he went. "Joey, you where supposed to get our before falling asleep." Marc chided gently. Once the boy was dry, Marc carried him to the guestroom and tucked him in.

Shortly before midnight Simon rose from the bed. The oil lamp on the dresser had been lit, though Simon had not noticed anyone enter the room to light it. He left the room without putting any clothes on too groggy to recall Marc's warning about other people being over. He started walking across the house to the one door he hand not been through. It appeared that every candle in the house had been lit, but nothing electric was on. Even the clocks had been unplugged. Simon did not know why, but he had to go through the door.

Just before he entered he noticed two large pillar candles flanked the door. At first he could not see anything, but suddenly the moon broke through the clouds, filling the room with silvery radiance. The room was large, big enough to comfortably hold 20 people. On the inside walls were bookshelves and cupboards. The outside wall was a window, or more accurately, a lot of windows, with no actual wall. Engraved on the floor was a circle, nearly as large as the room. Outside the circle, at each of the cardinal points, was a wooden pillar, about chest high, with a candle on it.. The perimeter of the circle was marked by various other candles. Unlike the rest of the candles in the house, the ones in the room were not lit.

Although he had never been there before, the room felt familiar; comfortable. It felt like he was supposed to be there. Love, power, beauty; he could feel it all coursing about him, through the room. It was what caused him to rise from his bed, and what had drawn him into the room. It is what caused him to start moving, dancing to the rhythm of the power around him.

He wasn't aware of the 12 other people that entered the room, all as nude as he. He didn't notice the candles and incense being lit, or the people walking around the circle, or the cool breeze form the open windows. He didn't even notice the cat, gracefully dodging around his feet. He just kept dancing.

He stopped suddenly as a pair of strong arms wrapped around him. The embrace, though unexpected, did not startle him. He stopped moving and let himself become enveloped in the man's warmth, much as he had in the bath before. Slowly, he became aware of the other people, the candles the incense and the breeze in the room. All of it seemed hazy to him; ethereal and ghost like in nature. The only thing real was the man holding him, and the power surrounding them. He felt the man kiss his head.

"Hand in hand with fairy grace..." He heard a man's deep, soothing voice intone, and was only aware that it was the man holding him by the vibration against his chest. He voice sounded far away.

"... well we dance and bless the place." A women's voice, higher, but still soothing and far away.

A drum beat started, filling the room with an auditory rhythm identical to the coursing of the power. As one everyone started to dance. The man still held him, and danced with him.

"Bide the Wiccan laws ye must..." The man spoke again. Simon was beginning to recognize the voice as Marc's.

"... in perfect love and perfect trust." The others finished the sentence. He noted with some surprise that his own voice mixed with the voices of the others.

"Ye must live and let live..." It was the women again, the voice of Tiffany.

"... fairly take and fairly give." The others again finished the words.

"Throw the circle thrice about..." Marc

"... to keep unwelcome spirits out." The others

"To bind ye spell every time..." Tiffany

"... let ye spell be spake in rhyme." The others

"Soft of eye and light of touch... speak ye little, listen much."

"Deosil go by the waxing moon... chanting out the Witches Rune."

"Widdershins go by the waning moon... chanting out a baneful tune."

"When the Lady's moon is new... kiss the hand of her times two."

"When the moon rides at her peak... then your heart's desire seek."

"Heed the North wind's mighty gale... lock the door and trim the sail."

"When the wind comes form the South... love will kiss thee on the mouth."

"When the wind blows form the West... departed souls will have no rest."

"When the wind blows from the East... expect the new and set the feast."

"Nine woods in the cauldron go... burn them fast and burn the slow."

"But elder be the Lady's tree... burn it not or cursed you'll be."

"When the Wheel begins to turn... let the Beltane fires burn."

"When the Wheel has turned to Yule... light the log, let the Horned One rule."

"Heed ye Flower, Bush and Tree... by the Lady, blessed be."

"Where the rippling waters go... cast the stone and truth you'll know."

"When ye have a true need... hearken not to others' greed."

"Never a season with a fool shall ye spend... lest be counted as his friend."

"Merry meet and merry part... bright the cheeks and warm the heart."

"Less in thy own defense it be... always mind the Rule of Three."

"When misfortune is enow... wear the blue star on thy brow."

"True in Love ever be... lest thy lover's false to thee."

"These eight words the Wiccan Rede fulfill... An ye harm none, do as ye will."

Then Tiffany began to chant in rhythm to the drums. She chanted alone, and Simon found he could not focus on her words; they only washed over him like waves over the shore. Finally, that too ended, and all that was left was the dancing, the drums, the power, and the man in who's loving embrace he never wanted leave. On and on it went. The power constantly growing, filling the circle until Simon could no longer contain it.

Marc caught him as he fell. They went to the ground together, quickly but gently. All those who saw went down as well. The drummers gave a final, powerful blow, and everyone was down. Simon gasped as he felt the energy that had been building suddenly discharge into the universe. Collectively the others said, "This is our will, so mote it be!"

There was more, but Simon was drained, scarcely aware of it. Marc tried handing him off to another man while he worked his part in the ritual, but every time he did, Simon would just get up and stagger back to him. It was clear the boy lacked the energy to move of his own volition, and rather then distressing him by having someone forcefully retain him, Marc picked the boy up and carried him with one arm for the rest of the ceremony. An act that clearly contented him.

Eventually the circle was walked down, the candles extinguished, and the windows closed. Marc carried Simon form the room with Tiffany. "I think we might have found our thirteenth. I had no idea..." she said. "His parents are so... Christian, I just didn't expect it. Did you hear him? He even knew the Rede...

"Well have to discuss it with the others, and with him... We'll decide at the next moon."

Simon was placed in a bed, different then the one he rose from, and the blankets were drawn around him, his forehead kissed lovingly.

"I suppose we should go see to the rest of the coven... How many are staying over this time?" Marc asked.

"Four, five if you count me. Six if you count Matilda."

"Six then, lets go see to sleeping arrangements."

A while latter Simon felt Marc climb into the bed, so he rolled over and curled up against him. "Good night Joey. Sleep well my little one." He said, his lips brushing against Simon's, his arms wrapped around the child.

"G'nigh Mar..." Simon yawed, and slept peacefully.

End Part 4

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