Chapter 7 : A New Beginning.

This story is fictional based on fictional characters. Any similarity to any person living or dead is coincidence. This story may contain man/teen boy or man/preteen boy or teen/preteen boy sex. It may contain no sex at all. I haven't decided yet.

If this is legal for you to read and is the sort of stuff you enjoy reading then read and enjoy. If this is not legal for you to read and/or is not the sort of stuff that you enjoy then do not read. You have the choice.

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It 's been a couple of weeks now since David came home.

It hasn't been easy. Stuff that we take for granted is a major effort for him, and he needs a lot of help with things that most of us don't even think about. Sometimes it is mind-numbingly boring even – just being here in case I am needed. But I love him, and despite his words to the contrary, I still feel somewhat responsible for his being in this condition.

I am starting to see the blessings that he has told me to look for.

Before the accident, his beloved bike wasn't that great. Sure she still looked good from a distance, but her chrome was rusting, she was close to a major gearbox failure (although he didn't realise this), and her engine was pretty well worn. It's still going to be months before he can ride again, but when he does she will feel like a new bike again.

And of course there's the money. David now has a little over $20,000 in investments, but it is growing. He is able to do what is called "share renting" and can bring in anything up to an extra thousand dollars in a month. I have to admit, it is very boring as we work together on it – David's hands are still numb from injuries so he needs me to do his typing, but I can see that there is money coming in. We work on it a bit every night, mostly watching videos or reading websites related to stocks and shares. It is boring but it gives us money to increase the shares, and a little to play with as well. The growth is slow at the moment, but I can see that it will gain momentum as the total amount grows. 10% of the income is reinvested, 20% goes to charities (some registered, some personal), and another 30% gets spread around family and friends. The rest goes on bills. There is other money coming in, like from his insurance, but it's still slow going at the moment. I've asked him repeatedly about dropping the 50% that goes to charity and other people, but he insists that it is a promise he made that he intends to keep, and we will benefit from it.

I personally feel that everyone would benefit more if he was to increase the amount he has invested much more quickly, but it is his money after all.

Bob and I are also having to learn a lot more about computers than we ever thought we'd want to, but it is interesting at times. Before the accident, David was starting up a web hosting business. It's not quite paying it's own way yet, but there are people who're interested in becoming customers and those who are customers are giving it excellent reviews. By the end of next month, we expect it to reach the break even point, and then into profit sometime in the near future. David never intended it to be a hugely profitable business, just something he did with a spare machine and spare resources. But it will turn a profit and now that we have time to work on it, it might turn a very good profit. It's an interesting experience for me. David doesn't care about making a lot of money from it, so he doesn't care if it pays it's way or not. The basic system is there for him and his family, and if others use it that's up to them but not an issue for him. However, while others are paying for the service he will make sure that it is the best that he can provide, and is always wanting something improved. I myself am becoming something of a web author – and he is helping me get started in my own business along those lines. I've always had an artistic streak in me and this web-authoring stuff is really allowing me to flourish in it. I managed to make a little over $100 last month, and that was doing something that I actually like!

The care of David is not easy. There's all sorts of cleaning, preparation of food, taking him places (at least I have my license now so that I can do some of the driving for him), work on the computers, keeping his bike clean (which is only once a month since she's garaged and covered), bills to pay (he trusts me with his bank account) – a lot of stuff. But, he has offered to pay me for it and while I've turned it down, I see that I always have a new prepay phone card when I need one and a $20 note in my wallet each day. I am not sure who puts them there but I am certain that David is paying for it somehow.

No program on TV ever shows the reality of caring for the severely ill or injured. There is so much shit (and I do mean that literally!) that you have to take care of, it's not funny. I can't say that I enjoy it, and I only do it because I love him, but I do it without any grudges. I know it's not easy on David being like this. He's always valued his independence and being able to do things for himself (while never afraid to ask for help should he need it). I know that it's hard on him not to be able to get up and ride, or go out and do anything.

My respect for hospital staff has increased a great deal. They deal with this each and every day, and they will never get out of it what I expect to get out of it.

We talk a lot – mainly because there is very little that David can do at the moment. It has given us a lot of time to get to know each other. I feel that it's really building the love between us, and when we are finally able to make love, there will be no chance that it's for the wrong reasons.

A few days ago David asked me about the police visits while he was in hospital. There wasn't a great deal to say but he pressed me for a few details of what had been said.

That conversation brought about the greatest moment of shame I'd ever felt in my life. It's funny now, as I write about it. Why should I have felt shame over what was said? It's not like he would ever give me cause to feel shame.

David told me that he expected that the police would've turned up, but hoped that it would not have been anywhere near as bad as it was. My mind turned to the grillings I'd had at the hands of the pigs, and I just broke down. I was sitting on the bed at the time. David slowly leaned forward, grabbed me, and pulled me back down and into a cuddle while gently rubbing my back. We lay together for a while as he let me cry it out, ocassionally telling me to let it go, don't hold back – it'll be alright.

Those bastards, with their supporting shrinks, tried everything they could think of to get me to tell them that David had done something illegal to me, and that he was a bad person. It was even suggested that, since I was supporting him, I might also be a bad person myself. My response to that was to tell them that I knew him, that I had seen how much he helps others, and that I was not the one trying to pressure a boy into lying about someone he cared for and who had done him no wrong.

David continued to hold me quietly for a while after I'd finished crying. Neither of us spoke. I could feel from him some sort of sense of achievement or victory, I couldn't quite pick it. For me though, it was a new beginning. Just lying there with him, I finally knew for sure that I could do this. I could accept that I was capable of falling for a man twice my age, and I would be able to make love with that man.

But I don't think that David is ready, at least not physically, and I am not going to push it yet.

The sense of whatever I was getting from him turned to a sense of peace or something like that. I looked at him. His eyes were closed, his lips were moving slightly but curved in a smile. His face radiated a sense of peace and love and something else that I cannot explain. I watched him intently for a minute, feeling the love inside me growing. But not like before. Nothing like I had ever felt before. It felt warmer and many times stronger than I had ever felt it. And as I looked into his face and watched his lips move, the sense of peace and love and warmth grew stronger and stronger. I could not tell what was the driving force behind it. I knew that it was not all David, that somewhere or somehow there was something else involved. It wasn't just me either. It wasn't even the both of us combined.

Finally he stopped, and I realised had been happening. I heard him whisper the word "Amen" as his lips made their last small movements.

So, he had been praying for me huh? A new experience for me. I thought for a moment about objecting, but.. I had not been hurt by it, it had not cost me anything. And anyway, the feeling was too wonderful to complain about. I am not a Christian, and I am unsure of any reason to believe in God. Certainly many "christians" give me plenty of reason to NOT believe. But, if his praying could make me feel like this, well, I wanted more!

For a moment I was reminded of a line in one of his favourite songs that I'd heard many times before :

"It was like a flash of lightening reflecting off the sky,

and I know I'll never be the same"

Show me Your Glory – Come Together - Third Day

Somehow, those words just fit the moment – what I felt. It was over after a few seconds but I know that something touched me and that another change was beggining. I'll have to think about it but it appears that once again, a gentle act of love by this man would bring about a major change, or at least a possibility of change in my life.

We lay together for another few minutes in silence, each wrapped in his own thoughts. The sense of peace and victory was slowly replaced by a sense of fear and nervousness – and shame. I guessed that David had something major to tell me. But what? I knew everything about him, or at least so I thought.

"Nathan, this might come as a bit of a shock. But, I feel that what we have is strong enough to survive this, and survive it easily. It is my fault that the cops treated you the way they did. You remember that I told you a long time ago that I'm an "omniphile"?"

I just stared at him blankly for a moment before shaking my head.

"Oh, well, it was on the way home from one of our swimming trips. I didn't really explain it to you but Bob got the idea – it means a "bit of everything" as far as my sexuality is concerned. But I am primarily a boylover, in fact I prefer boys around the age of 10 – 12 over anything else. Except you of course. You OK with that?"

I still didn't make any response. He continued after a moment.

"I'm not trying to deny that things went wrong and that I have hurt boys, but it was not something deliberate. And I think a lot of the hurt comes from society, not from anything I had done with the boys. I was not forceful with them, and certainly did not do anything without them indicating they wanted it. In fact, some things I didn't do because I believed it would hurt them."

Before he could continue I jumped in. "You don't need to tell me that. You're way too loving to deliberately hurt someone! I know that there is no way you could do that without good reason!".

"Thank you."

I asked him how he got caught, and he explained that the first time he got caught was through trusting a friend who was also a counsellor – and letting his friend know enough details to be able to locate the boy he'd been playing with for a few years. The second time he got caught, the boy asked his mother if David could spend more time with him – and enthusiastically told her about the sex that the boy had enjoyed and wanted more of. That one led to a prison sentence, and a lot of struggle over the years since then. Slowly the pieces started to come together. The things I had seen in his eyes back when he first told me of his love for me started to fit. The torture, the pain, the destroying of his life and having to rebuild it. All because of the love and attraction he felt to boys.

Ok, so he had sexually abused boys. Maybe he shouldn't have it too easy. But hang on, had it been abusive? I had just told him that I knew he was too loving to hurt someone deliberately. I've been around him since I was 14, and Bob has known him since he was 7. Neither of us would regard anything he'd done as sexually abusive. Hell, he'd done nothing sexual with me yet and I wanted it. Sure, if it wasn't for the accident we'd probably have had sex by now, but he's never made a move in all the time I'd known him.

I know that society would think that he had abused me just by being near me – and by the thoughts that he'd admitted to having had about me. But was that abuse? How? He had not harmed me, neither in his thoughts nor his deeds. He had been nothing but loving to me.

Slowly the scales began to fall from my eyes. I had been hearing about child molesters and how everything that they do is solely for the chance of having sex with a young child, and making that child be quiet about it. But did that match reality?

Here was the evidence lying beside me, and plastering the walls all around me. Cards and letters from many of the boys that David had known over his life. According to society he had sexually abused every one of those boys – and the many others who had not sent something. Whether or not he had touched them in a sexual way, or even met them – it did not matter, he had sexually abused them. Even Andrew from Canada who was 15 when he and David started talking – who'd never met him, yet they grew to love each other deeply. Even he had been sexually abused by David, at least according to society. I laughed to myself as I thought of the card from Andrew's mother – David must have sexually abused her too. He loved her almost as much as he loved Andrew, and he'd done more for her than for Andrew – so if just talking to Andrew was enough to count as sexual abuse, then it must be the same for Andrew's mother.

I realised that there was a single word that covers all this stuff. "Bullshit". It is total unmitigated rubbish! I knew in my own heart that the boys I love had nothing to complain about with me. I had done all I could with them and for them, and would never hurt them or allow them to be hurt. I would give my life for each an every one without a second thought. And that was supposed to be sexual abuse? BULLSHIT!

I realised that it was time. It was a strange and totally illogical experience. I admitted it to myself as I listened to David talk, as he explained to me what it meant to him to be a boylover and that it was out of that that he'd fallen for me. He had just told me that he is attracted to young boys, and has had sex with boys for over half of his life, and one of his loves of swimming is that he gets to see some cute naked boys at times, as well as seeing boys at play and having fun and being happy, but I still didn't feel right about it.

With my face turning red, and the nerves and shame rising within, I decided that, having finally and fully admitted it to myself, it was time to admit it to my boyfriend. And then that hit me as well. My boyfriend! David is my boyfriend! I said it to myself a few times as the realisation finally kicked in. We are a couple!

David was looking at me expectantly, with a look of concern, as these last thoughts were going through my head. I realised that he sensed that I was about to say something, and that I was nervous about it. I guess my red face would have told him something was up.

I tried to speak but couldn't say anything. He just looked into my eyes, as if he was reading the deepest darkest secrets straight from the depths of my soul. After a moment he put a hand on the side of my face and gently stroked it.

"Take your time, my love. If you want to tell me now, do so. If not, it can wait."

I turned away from him and thought about it. What could it hurt for him to know? Does he already know? He must have heard that I spend a lot of time with younger boys. Hell, he'd even met a couple of them at my place once. What harm could it do? Somewhere this little voice was nagging at me, telling me that it was all an elaborate trap and that he wasn't really a boylover – that he was only out to get me in some way. But logic was able to dismiss that quickly enough.

I took a couple of deep breaths before speaking. "David, I'm a boylover as well. At least I think I am. I've sometimes had sexual feelings towards those boys I know. I've always been too shy to do anything but I know I've wanted to. I've been scared that once I start something I'm gonna rape them. That's how people like us are supposed to act isn't it?"

The tears started streaming down his face as he answered. He explained that we're always in control of our bodies, but others can have an influence on our actions. And with society telling us that we're supposed to rape boys, it would be no surprise if any boylover had actually done it because he thought that was how he was supposed to act. He swore a lot and the anger in his voice was clear as he asked which was abuse – what I had done with and for the boys I know, or how society had made me feel about myself?

We didn't speak any more that afternoon, or that night for that matter. We lay in each other's arms and slowly drifted off to sleep. At some stage someone, I guess Bob (since it was Saturday and he was also here), took my shoes off and got the covers over me. I doubt that David could've done it, but someone did. I'm glad that I was still fully clothed – I still feel embarrassed even though more and more people seem to be seeing us as a couple, and I certainly am happy to be his boyfriend. But even so, I wouldn't want people thinking we had started having sex together yet – although I think it'll be a while before David is ready.

In the morning I awoke to see him watching me, with the most contented and loving smile I have ever seen on anyone's face.

"Good morning beautiful".

As he spoke it hit me. I had just spent my first night in another man's bed, and I could not be happier! I didn't speak. I did what seemed to be the most natural thing. No problems this time, it felt so right. I moved up and kissed him on the lips. A gentle kiss on the lips, mouths closed first. Then I backed off and looked into his eyes. For the moment, all the darkness was gone. Those eyes showed nothing but love and happiness. I leant forward again and kissed him. This time, as I was about to pull back I felt that something else must be done instead. I opened my mouth to find that his mouth matched mine, movement for movement – a perfect fit. Then our tongues met. Then my conciousness faded as I was lost inside feelings of love so intense that they blacked out all else, even the physical sensations of our kiss.

Any day that starts off with a kiss like this has to be incredible!

[A "thank you" to the author of "Harry" and "Little Harry" – a few lines in this chapter are inspired from "Harry" :-) Also, a big thanks to the boy who made the "you're to loving" comment to me in a conversation when I came out to him.

Thanks to my proof readers who've helped me find and fix (most of) the errors in this story to date – you know who you are.

A thanks to those who've written in suggestions and comments. Although there's only a few of you, it has helped keep me going on the writing. Of course, if more people would comment, I would know that this story is still being read, and I would know that it's worth the time and effort I am putting in :-)

I am of two minds whether to end this here, or keep it going? I have several other ideas that I am working on for this story, and this is not the last chapter that I have written, but it could be a good place to end it. Let me know what you think -TC]