Date: Fri, 23 Mar 2007 23:44:42 -0700 (PDT)
From: Matthew Templar <matemp1148@yahoo.com>
Subject: Never Take Love For Granted - Chapter 5

This chapter is dedicated to Richard, whose love, caring and his concern
for my guys in this story has come at a high price for him.  I know the
rest of your long life will be a pleasurable one.  Good fortune, my friend.

				    ***

	All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted by any
means, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author.
	Furthermore, every word of this story is fiction.  Nothing within
this tale happened to anyone I know.  Any reference to anyone, anything or
any place, real, living or dead is coincidental.
	If there is someone that has written a law saying that you can't
read this story because of age or local laws or other such 'wisdom', then
you haven't really gotten this far into Nifty to read this anyway, right!
Write to me with the date of your legal birthday and I will...Not!
	While the main thrust (try not to get excited by the graphic words
before you even get to the story) of this work is not sex, there will be
those times when it will occur between consenting adults and at least one
consenting minor.  There will never be a plethora of sexual trysts in this
story.  Though there will be some, I found myself caught up in the hearts
of the characters, not their libidos.  There will be a lot of bedroom
scenes, but their emphasis will be on sleeping and waking and things like
that, spiced occasionally with something to let the characters sleep more
peacefully.  You don't have to wait to express your opinion as I would also
appreciate knowing if you are enjoying this story.  I will answer all
appropriate emails, but, thank you in advance for your time.
	Finally, there is not enough room to express my gratitude to Dwight
Wilson for his dedication to resolving the problems I had with making
legible sense out of this work and then encouraging me to hit the 'Submit'
button.  Read Brad's Idol in Adult/Youth and New Horizons in Authoritarian
to know the experience he brings to my story.
	Your comments and suggestions are welcome.  Matthew at
matemp1148@yahoo.com


       Never Take Love For Granted - Chapter 5

	Both men turned slightly to look at a confused and frightened boy
standing in the doorway.  Sam DeWitt turned to look at me and I gave him
the same push with my head that I had given to Russ to encourage him to
reach out to his boy.  Sam turned to look at Russ and wink, then back to
his own son.
	"Son, uh,...Grant, I'd like you to meet your grandfather, and my
dad."  Wow!  Those last three words came off his lips like music, sprinkled
with a new found pride.
	"Huh?  But I thought...Why is he,...You're supposed to...."  This
obviously wasn't going well for Grant.  Sam stooped down to try to get to
Grant's level.  While Grant wasn't that short, the effort showed that there
was a new man in the room, or rather, a young son that had grown into the
man his dad always hoped for.
	"Son, I was wrong.  So very, very, very wrong.  I kept you from
your grandfather.  I kept horrible thoughts in my head and I hurt you by
planting them in your head.  It was wrong of me.  It was hurtful to the two
people I love the most.  I can't tell you enough how sorry I am for what I
did to you.  I want to explain what went on but I'm still not sure myself.
Everything has happened so fast.  Grant, will you forgive me?"
	Grant was overwhelmed.  He just stood there.  I'm not even sure if
he was actually looking at someone.  He seemed to be in overload.
	"Grant?" his grandfather said.  "Grant, I'd like to get to know
you."
	Grant's eyes blinked, then they got really wet and red.  Soon,
without changing the expression on his confused face, without a sound from
his awed mouth, the tears began to roll out of his eyes and wash his face
and that ugly coat.
	Sam put his arms out to his boy and said, "Grant?  Can I hold you?"
	I can't say for sure what was going on in that ten year old mind
but it had to be madly trying to process a complete turn around in his
father, to say nothing of meeting his grandfather.  I'm sure that to Grant,
it began to seem like a conspiracy against everything his father had beat
into his head about his grandfather.  Now they were both hugging and happy
and he was by himself in this whole policy of hate that had been instilled
in him his whole life.  So...he actually backed up a step.
	You could have heard a pin drop on the next floor down, it was so
quiet.  I thought I could hear the intake of two sets of breaths from the
men in Grant's life.  Russ's head dropped a bit and Sam's arms lost their
strength.  I tried to look into Grant's eyes to see what they would tell
me.  He took a step to the side; while one step into the room, it was no
closer to his dad.
	"I don't get what's goin' on.  I thought we were s'posed to hate
him dad?  You practically beat me every time I mentioned him and you almost
pulled my arm off if you saw him coming toward us.  Now you're hugging and
all lovey-dovey and...and..."  And he collapsed onto the floor and started
wailing.  It was the most mournful cry I have ever heard.  He pulled
himself into a fetal position and brought his hands up to wrap around his
head.
	Sam crawled over to lay a hand on his shoulder, and immediately
Grant started to kick and scream.  Nurse O'Hara arrived in a huff to see
what was going on.  "Glory be!" she shouted, "What have you two done to the
lad, now?"
	"We made up!" Sam answered, "It was too much.  He'd been abused by
me about his grandfather for so long and it must have been too much."  I
could hear the anguish in his voice.
	O'Hara knelt down to try to calm the boy but he wasn't having any
of that.  He was bawling and rocking back and forth like he'd gone into
some state after a seizure.  She finally got up and left to get the doctor.
	"What are we going to do?" Russ asked quietly.
	Just great!  I was about to make one of those theatrical moves to
save the world from itself and free all the slaves in Africa or somewhere,
while, at the same time, calming down little Grant.  What the hell did I
think I could accomplish.  I swung both legs over the side of the bed and
got to my feet.  I had about seven steps in front of me, before I got to
Grant, to figure out a plan.  When I got beside Grant I could only think of
one thing: the way he had leaned back into me, in the shower, and cooed.
So I got behind him, laying down, and moved up to spoon him into me.  He
reacted briefly like he was going to start kicking again, but he must have
felt the warmth.  I'm sure if either of the other guys had tried this, the
outcome would have been the same, but they hadn't been in the shower.  I
slowly, gently, laid one arm over his side and carefully began to squeeze
him closer to me like I had done before.  I could feel every part of him
twitch and jerk, either like he was sobbing or convulsing.  He started to
quiet down.  He had a safe place I guess.  I leaned in and gently blew in
his ear.  Then I whispered, "We all love you little man.  We all love you
so very much."
	His arms came off of his head and wrapped around the one I held him
with.  Then he started crying again, only this time it was just sobbing,
trying to calm down and understand all at once.
	All my concentration was on the little body in front of me, so I
didn't hear until later about how Sam reacted to the scene playing out in
front of him.  He knew first hand what Grant was going through.  He'd spent
decade after decade holding onto his emotional being, keeping it strong and
unapproachable.  The very idea that Sam would ever let one small piece of
his true self escape his prison for someone else to witness, especially his
own dad, was impossible.  He couldn't be vulnerable, even for his son.
Seeing Grant break down in front of him unleashed his penned up emotions
that had been collecting for years.  Luckily, he had leaked a bit during
our talk.  But he was torn by the hurt and anger and resentment that he had
created in his most precious Grant.  With red eyes, blurred with his tears,
he looked to his father for the first time in years for his wisdom.
	"I think Grant has a friend, Sam," Russ said as he clamped his hand
on his son's shoulder.  "And I think we need to leave and go get some
coffee."  I felt, more than saw them leave the room and a few minutes later
I felt the door open behind me and heard an, 'Oh' from the doctor.  Then
the door closed again to leave us in silence.
	I don't know if I dosed or how long we were on the floor but I did
start to notice that my side was burning from the scarring and I was cold
where I lay on the floor.  Grant hadn't moved.  I could feel him breathing
deeply but more normally.  His heart was still racing some but nothing like
before.  I also noticed that it wasn't bright and sunny outside, as though
it was late enough for the sky to start to darken.  I blew in his ear
again.  He actually meowed, almost like a cat, so I did it again.  I could
feel him try to push back into me but the floor was too slick to get any
headway.
	"I'm going to lift you up and take us over to the bed.  I'm getting
cold," I whispered.
	"Me too," came a whisper from my bundle as I began to lift him in
my arms.  I tried to keep him in his fetal position but he was too gangly.
One leg came loose and flopped down and the other started to slip.  I tried
to rush and fairly threw him on the bed but the momentum caused me to fall
on him too.
	"Huumph!  Big lug."  What made it funny was that he was still
whispering.  I don't know why that struck my funny bone.  It was just a
more gentle side of Grant that I had only seen once or twice before.
	I made a big, funny deal about pulling back the covers and
arranging him on the bed.  I could hear him giggling and I was very much
relieved.  I climbed up behind him again, pulled him into our position and
pulled the covers over us.  Then I blew in his ear again.  He cooed and I
asked. "How ya doin', Tiger."
	"It not the same," he told me, fidgeting.
	"What?  What's not the same, little guy?"
	"Hm-m-m.  The feeling.  It doesn't feel the same like before, in
the shower."
	"What?  You want me to get us wet?"  He giggled quietly.  His
breathing was more regular again.
	"No, silly.  This feeling."  And he reached down and pushed his
pants to his knees and then pulled his shirt up as high as it would go.
But he wasn't done.  He reached behind him and put his thumb in the waist
band of my scrub pants and pushed down.  I reacted by raising my hips.
What was I thinking?  Then his arm returned to my waist and I could feel
him try to set his feet and push back while his hand grabbed my ass and
pulled us together, skin tight.
	"Hm-m-m.  That feeling."  I put my arm around him and we closed our
eyes.  Just as I was falling into another sleepy place I think I heard a
giggle and, "Hm-m-m, you said you loved me."

						***

	Some mumbling brought me out of my dreams.  I dreamt that I was in
a lush, tropical forest.  The bushes and trees were so dense that it
blocked out most of the light.  It was so wonderfully warm and I must have
been near some sort of flower or fruit because when I breathed I smelled a
wonderful clean scent.  But the best part was in my arms.  They were filled
with a silky warmth that I was having a hard time placing.  As I tried to
pull myself out of the dream I felt around to try to figure out what I was
holding.  It was so smooth and warm.  It was soft and, as my hand went
lower I could only feel one slight indentation followed by a soft stem
or....  I was awake now!  Grant let out another soft meow of contentment
that sounded like it had a little giggle mixed in.  It was muffled and as I
opened my eyes I saw that he actually had his thumb in his mouth.  When I
reached up and pulled it out I heard another giggle and an 'Oops'.  Just
for good measure I reached down and covered his small package.
	"Well, sleepy heads.  It's nice to see you back on earth."  I could
feel Grant stiffen just a bit at his dad's voice so I blew in his ear and
told him, "Remember Grant, we all love you so much.  It may take some time
to show you but I think your life is going to be different.  I think your
going to have more good feelings every day than ever before.  There are two
wonderful men right here that want to get to know you all over again."
	After what seemed like a long time I could feel him exhale a big
sigh and the tension leave his whole body.  He lay there for another minute
and finally said, "Hm-m-m.  Three men I hope."
	Both Russ and Sam came over to the bed and ruffled Grant's hair or
brushed his face, then smoothed back his hair some more; generally, just
loving him with their hands.  It was wonderful to feel him react to the
attention; attention that he had longed for, that was missing from his
young life.  I could feel him try to raise up to make more contact with the
next hand on him.  He cooed some more; a sound I could stand to hear all
day.
	"David, Sam and I have been talking," said Russ softly.  "He and I
want to have some time to talk and sort some more of what's goin' on.  So
I'm gonna drop Grant by a sitter's and leave you to rest up some."
	"Huh?  No-o-o!  I don't wanna go.  Can't I just stay here with
David?  What if I have one of those spells again?  I might need him to help
me out.  Please?"  And then I could imagine his eyes rolling back in his
head and he started twitching a bit.  Definitely an Emmy for sure; maybe an
Oscar.  I reached down and squeezed his golden globes to let him know he
was laying it on a bit thick.  He squeaked and came back to the rest of us
with wide, hopeful eyes.
	"Gentlemen," I said, "This little guy here represents one of the
world's greatest natural resources.  He has given me more spark and energy
to heal than all of the quacks out there."  I pointed out the door of the
room for emphasis.  "I couldn't think of him leaving right now or any time
soon.  Please let him stay.  I know he'll take good care of me."  Both men
chuckled at that.  "And Nurse O'Hara can give him a bath later."
	Boy did that bring out the laughter and the kicking.  I grabbed
onto Grant and held on for dear life.  Then I started to tickle his sides.
He started to laugh and it was addictive.  So both Russ and Sam were
helping me tickle Grant until he was screaming for mercy.
	"Stop!  Stop!  Oh, please stop.  I have to pee so bad!"  Well that
put an end to that frivolity.  Grant spent a second pulling his pants up
under the covers and jumped off the bed.  As he tried to maneuver to the
bathroom door he literally walked right out of his oversized hospital green
britches and they were all that was left as the door closed behind his
bared bottom.  We all laughed at the sight.
	All three of us let out a big DeWitt sigh (I was just learning).  I
knew I was relieved.  I couldn't imagine how much more so the two men at my
bed side must have been too.
	Soon we heard a flush and a door peeked open.  "Shit!"  We stood
there looking as Grant pushed open the bathroom door and crawled as fast as
he could to collect his pants from the floor.  Of course, as he crawled,
the shaking caused his shirt to come up to his neck and almost cover his
head.  He grabbed the pants and turned back to go through the bathroom door
to dress just as it closed in front of him.  This left two very red cheeks
smiling at us and another, "Shit!" coming from the other end.  He sat down
and the shirt fell around him, covering everything that mattered to one
embarrassed boy.  "Not fair!" he cried at us.  I suppose it was because we
were laughing at his antics.  I couldn't resist saying, just as he hiked up
his pants,
	"Grant, did you forget about the closet behind the mirror in
there?"
	The look was priceless.  His head went back and his hand slapped
his forehead as he moaned, "Oh brother!"

							***

	All three DeWitts left for a few minutes to visit with Russ'
sister, Sam's aunt and Grant's great aunt Charlotte.  Almost as soon as
they left I heard a light knocking on the door and both Dr. Owen and Nurse
O'Hara walked in when I invited them in.  I spent the next few minutes
explaining to them how a feud that was three decades old could be over in a
few minutes.
	"Son, you're a miracle worker.  I've got to hand it to you.  You
must have the gift."  The doctor was very kind.  After the nurse agreed and
offered the fact that it was bound to happen, they left for the night.  Oh,
I did explain that Grant would be staying to baby-sit me and why.  They
seemed fine with that.  You know, anything to help the men get back
together.
	It was so quiet.  The sun was setting and I was alone for the first
time in quite a long day.  The first thing I did was shed the scrubs.
Grant's may have been roomy but mine were closing in on me.  Naked was
always best anyway.  I laid back with just a sheet over me and put my hands
behind my head.  My eyes closed and I began to go over the day's events.
	I spent some time thinking about how, when they were set free from
their personal prison's, all three DeWitt men shined like new crystal.
Their smiles lit up rooms and made them look so different.  Both Sam and
Russ looked years younger, and Grant, well, Grant was beautiful too.  I had
to chuckle when I remembered all of the big boys picking on Grant and
tickling him until he almost wet us all.
	But my mind kept coming back to me.  Does that surprise you?  I was
always the center of my concern.  So it did my heart good to realize that,
after a few minutes, my thoughts were about me helping to keep the DeWitts
together and learn to be stronger than ever.  I didn't care about school
anymore.  Okay, that probably wasn't a good example.  I didn't care about
any of those things that I left behind that were just for me.  I didn't
need to have a reason to be impressive or charming or a lady killer.  I
could be David and learn how to love for real.  How to love a whole family,
but most of all a man three times my age and a boy who was little more than
half my age.  If there were labels that had to be worked out, labels like
'Gay' or 'Homosexual' or whatever might stand in the way, they wouldn't
stop me from giving everything I had to my new love interests.  Hell, I
didn't even know what it entailed to love Russ.  But I knew from his
attention to me on my first morning on this side of the world, I could work
at loving him back in the same way.  It did seem to scare me, but it didn't
slow down my desire to be with him, to know him and, of course, to love him
in any way that I could.
	Now Grant!  That was a different story.  My love for him was on a
different level I think.  I thought that it was funny that, after getting
over the shock of my feelings when I looked at him naked, that every other
similar experience seemed to be so pure and real and important, like
building blocks for rebuilding who he was.  He was so innocent that he was
totally natural about all that we had done.  I had to try to imagine how I
was at ten, or how the few boys I knew that were ten would be mortified by
the things that Grant and I enjoyed in the shower.  Their knowledge of what
makes babies and what tool goes into what crevasse was easily beyond what
Grant would even imagine if he cared to know.  Even in the art of loving
another boy, the kids where I lived, okay, used to live, could probably
teach me a thing or eight while blushing with embarrassment at even saying
those words.
	There would be a lot to teach him about something that he hasn't
had the opportunity to explore yet: love.  All kinds of love.  The most
important would be time with his dad.  I guess I could easily regret having
brought them back together in a new way.  The time it would take away from
me being with Grant would be okay I suppose.  I could make that sacrifice.
	Brother.  Woe is definitely me.  What a martyr.  But when I heard
Sam talk about the things he missed out on, and then saw his smile during
our tickle session on Grant, there was no way anyone could stand in the way
of that.  I hoped they would enjoy many a campout and guy talk and anything
that brought them closer to each other.  I guess my jealousy wasn't that I
wouldn't be able to spend quality time with Grant.  My jealousy was that
Grant would get to spend real quality time with his loving father.  That
was something I could never get back.  Even Sam had the opportunity to
start fresh with his dad, though the thought of Sam climbing into Russ' lap
made me chuckle.  My father was probably in bed, until he got up the next
day to read his Wall Street Journal, oblivious to the fact that his son was
hurting for something that only he was able to give.  I knew then that if
there was one thing I would come away knowing for sure, it was that you
should never take love for granted.
	It was so calm that I wasn't sure I was enjoying it.  The day had
brought so many great joys and loving moments that not having someone to
share them with just then was surprisingly difficult.  But, no worry.  I
could hear the troops approaching down the hallway.  Great!  What could
they be arguing about already.  I pulled my arms down and pulled the sheet
up over my head.  Maybe they would just walk past the room and give me a
minute's more...Ummph!  OW-W!
	"We're back!" said a small, high voice that belonged to one of the
sharpest knees known to mankind; and a marksman to boot.  Oh joy.  Well, so
much for having children.
	I pulled both legs up in reflex to getting the wind knocked out of
me by a knee in the very place I would have looked forward to using in the
short time I had left of my life, at this rate.  And why do we pull our
legs up afterwards, anyway?  It is a bit late.  My sudden movement must
have knocked Grant on his back and pulled the covers to my waist.  My hands
were under the sheet catching anything that was left after being assaulted.
	"Oo-oo-oo!  David, that looked like it really hurt."  Isn't it odd
that, of all the things that men are stereotypically known for, like being
unsympathetic, unsupportive or laughing at another guy's injury with the
main reason being to embarrass the other guy, that the one thing every man
will sympathize with is a check to the groin.  Sometimes it was like it
happened to them right then too.
	My mind was swimming and I really couldn't tell who said that.  I
do recall little Grant scampering up to see what I did that made me look
like that.
	"What'd you do, David?"  See?  Total innocence.  He had no concept
of what that would feel like.  But soon came the most amazing thing of the
day.  A day ago, no, even a few hours ago, a very hurting father would have
grabbed up Grant and pounded his butt until he bled, was my guess.  So when
he quickly grabbed Grant off the bed, both Russ and I gasped at what was
about to happen.  But a loving father was there to grab Grant this time.
It soon became obvious that it was to save me from further damage in that
department.  I think that even Grant might have had a concern or two that
his backside was in for a ride with a belt right about then.  But instead,
Sam whisked Grant around in a full circle twice before setting him to stand
on the floor beside the bed.  Even then, another Sam could have embarrassed
Grant by blaming him for the pain he had caused me.
	"Let's let David catch his breath a little, Tiger.  I guess we
scared him from a sound nap when we jumped at him."
	"Oops!  Sorry David.  Hey, guess what?  I get to have dinner up
here and everything.  Then they're gonna bring in a cot so I can have my
very first sleep over, huh dad?  Then, in the morning if the doctor says
okay, you get to go to Russ', I mean, grampa's house and get better.  Then
I get to ride my bike there after school starts up next week and visit you,
whadaya think about that, huh?"
	"I'm guessing, too much sugar, " I groaned, still in the throws of
shooting pain.  My voice cracked and was weak enough that both of the, heh,
'gentlemen' were barely able to stay on their feet from laughing at my
plight.
	"'Fore we leave, David, we've got to solve a problem, big time,"
Russ said trying to bring some seriousness into the room and take my mind
off other 'pressing' things.  "See, if we take my car, then Sam has to
leave the one he borrowed from Mrs. Stapleton and she'd be without until we
came back.  But if we took Mrs. Stapleton's..."
	"You've got to be kidding me?"
	"Hey.  This is important stuff," said Sam.
	"No, guys.  World peace is important.  Global warming.  Finding my
testicles under the bed.  Those things are important.  Sam, you drive to
Stapleton's, Russ, you pick him up.  I die here and now."  And I made flat
like I had succumbed in front of them, which seemed like a possibility at
that moment.
	"Hey!  Is he kidding?  Quit it, David.  I don't like that game."
Grant wasn't taking to that kind of humor right then.  He poked me in the
thigh to get my attention.
	"Sorry, Grant.  You can come up again.  Just be careful in case you
see two smashed balls rolling around up here, okay?"  I reached out for him
to come up.
	"Kay.  What do they look like?"  As his dad helped him to sit on
the other side of me from the other two guys, I grasped my crotch gingerly
to indicate which balls and where they might have resided a few minutes
before.  "Oh.  Those."  And we laughed as he became aware of what I was
talking about.  "Well, I didn't know!" said a blushing boy.  Then he made a
big scene by flopping down next to me and crossing his arms over his chest,
disgusted at being the brunt of a joke.
	I grabbed him up and nuzzled into his neck and gave him a
raspberry.  He was squirming and giggling and trying to get away, so I kept
at it.
	"Help me!  Get him off me!  He's going to eat my neck!"  It was
amazing that we could understand him amidst the laughing and pleas for
help.  His dad and grampa were laughing too.
	"Now, David.  Don't you spoil your dinner!" said Sam in a stern
voice, which had us laughing harder.  When Grant heard all of the love and
support coming from his father he went limp, like he died or something.
	"Jeesh!  Some help you two are!  Don't you have to go smooch and
put on make up?"
	We kind of stared at him until it hit us all at the same time.
"That's kiss and make up and I doubt if your grampa and I will be doing any
of the kissing part.  But I guarantee you, Grant DeWitt, that we will work
real hard at the making up part."  Russ showed his agreement by slapping
Sam on the shoulder and nodding with a big smile across his face.
"However," Sam continued, "I do have to use up some kisses I've been
holding back for some time.  I wonder who I can use 'em up on."
	Russ and I both jumped in with, "Not me!"  It was wonderful to see
Grant's eyes widen and his whole face smile as he anticipated what was
coming.
	"Omygosh Grant.  That only leaves one person to get all these
kisses."  And Sam swooped down on Grant, over my legs, and started kissing
him in every place he could think.  I eyed Russ and nodded towards the two
of them and we quickly started helping Sam complete his arduous task.  It
was tough but somebody had to do it.  We would each grab a limb and soon,
Grant was hanging several inches off the bed, being tossed around and
kissed, scrubs going everywhere from all the pulling, until his head was
covered with the shirt and his pants were...somewhere I'm sure, just not on
Grant or the bed.  To finish our session, we tossed him up to fall back
onto the bed next to me; while he tried to stop laughing and doing a
miserable job of it.
	Luckily for Grant the night nurse brought in our trays just as
Grant scooted his bare butt under the sheet.  This gave Grant a chance to
calm down and the guys the excuse they needed to leave, saying that it was
too bad they couldn't ever come back and get Grant.  To which Grant said,
"Okay!"
	But as they approached the door to leave, Grant whispered to me and
I nodded and pushed him toward the end of the bed.
	"Dad?" he called, on his knees with his scrubs shirt just barely
covering anything important.
	"Yes son.  What is it?" Sam asked when both he and Russ heard his
voice.
	Grant stretched out his arms to his dad.  That DeWitt glow formed
on Sam's face like a sunrise, spreading to both sides and almost bursting.
He walked back and grabbed up his son and swung him around once and planted
him back on the foot of the bed.
	Still hugging him, Sam said, "God I love you son.  Forgive me?"
For a ten year old, Grant was pretty quick to figure out what his dad
meant.  Ten years of neglect and abuse in many forms because of an anger
that had been eating away like a cancer in his dad.  We talked about it
later, but it was clear to Grant what his dad meant.
	"I love you too, dad.  I always have.  But now we have more to
love, don't we?"  That said, they both turned their attentions to Russ a
few feet away and opened up one side of their hug to include him.  For some
reason, he glanced at me and I could see that misty look about to overtake
him as he joined his two guys in their hug fest.
	"Okay.  Now get in bed before another nurse comes in," Sam said
letting go of Grant and Russ and waving to me as they made their way out of
the room.  They left shaking their heads and laughing down the hallway
until the same nurse told them to behave and quiet down.  Grant was still
kneeling at the corner of the bed and smiling at his men as they got in
trouble from the nurse, when he realized he was exposed to anyone coming
in.  He hopped up next to me and I covered us with the sheet.

						***

	We finished our meal and ended up getting decent and taking another
walk.  There was no doubt that I was feeling stronger and eager to get out
of the hospital.  When we returned to the room I laid down on the bed and
soon, I asked Grant what he would like to do.  He had been wandering around
the room looking at everything, opening cupboards, commenting once in
awhile, about what he'd found.  He didn't quite look bored.  But he looked
like he wanted to do something else before turning in for the night.  He
made his way over to the bed with his head down.
	"Well, I think all that tickling made me kind of dirty and sweaty,"
He said, into his chest.  I could tell by his tone and his reddened cheeks
that he was embarrassed to say it.  When he looked up at me I could tell by
that look that there was an agenda brewing too.
	"You mean to tell me that the guy that didn't want to undress in
the hospital, much less take a shower, now wants to take his third one, all
naked and everything?  What gives, guy?"  His look was priceless.  He'd
roll his eyes and flick his hand as if to avoid the embarrassing parts as I
spoke; as though he was exposing himself a little too much.  "You really
enjoyed our time in there, huh?"
	"Uh-huh."
	"What was you favorite part, Grant?" I asked a very red little boy.
	"Oh-h, I liked the playin' and the swattin' and stuff."  And then
he looked me right in the eyes to admit, "But my favorite was when you
pulled me up into your lap and, and hugged me and kissed my neck.  Hm-m-m.
That felt the best ever."  And his face glowed as the memory of a few hours
ago played back in his head.  Then I could see his eyes watering and he
gave a gulp and the flood gates broke.  He started crying and reached up so
I could pull him up to me.  I pulled him on top of me and hugged him into
my shoulder and let him cry.  I wasn't exactly sure where all this was
coming from, but I couldn't blame him after what had happened to him today
after a lifetime of neglect.
	He began to slow down and started that gulping thing you do when
you're finishing a good cry.  Okay then, you've probably heard about it
though.
	I let him relax against me and smoothed his hair with one hand and
rubbed his butt with the other, through the scrub shirt.  I guess that
wasn't good enough because he reached down and pulled up the shirt to
expose his cheeks so I had full contact with the smoothest skin possible.
	"Hm-m-m, yeah, like that," said my little waif, "only wet and
warm."  And he giggled into my chest.  I knew I didn't ever want to move.
It would have been embarrassing though, still being there three or four
years later when his weight would begin to break my bones; to say nothing
of the staff coming in and out as I was rubbing his naked behind all that
time.  But I thought I would like to give it a try.
	"It's been quite a day little tyke.  Are you sure you're up to it?"
	"Oh, yeah," he said and jumped up and ran into the bathroom to
prove it.  I didn't move quite as fast but when I got there and opened the
door he was standing in front of the pot peeing.
	"Hey!  David!"  Screwing around, trying to hide what he was doing
	"Grant.  Think about it.  In a minute, we're both gonna be nekky
and wet and stuff in the altogether with nothing on our sorry asses or
nothin', skinny dippin' in the shower."
	"Oh, yeah.  Heh!"
	So, of course, to make it as uncomfortable for Grant as possible, I
took the hem of his shirt and started raising it over his head while he was
still going.  I pulled so that his arms were flailing a bit and his pointer
was going every which way.  And he started to laugh.
	"Hey, you butt!  Quit it!" he said amidst his laughing.  He said it
so I showed him.  I turned my back to him, dropped my drawers, hiked up my
shirt and mooned him; that is until I felt something wet and warm on my
butt, coming from his direction.
	"Hey, you dick!  Cut it out!" I screamed in mild shock.  It never
would have occurred to me to do something like that at his age, if the
opportunity ever presented itself.  When he was done we took a minute to
clean up his 'spill' and got in the shower.  I noticed that the chair
wasn't in there but I didn't say anything.  He'd gotten a wash cloth and
soaped it up and started playing at washing until he seemed to catch
himself; he straightened right up and looked up at me.
	"Sorry."
	"What, Grant?"  He pointed to one of my few burns left and dropped
his head.  "Oh.  Hey!  Thanks for remembering big guy."  That did the
trick.  He brightened and started gently washing.
	As he would get in close or bend over to wash something I would
gently caress any skin that came my way.  I got some soap on my hands and
began to wash him as much as he was washing me but without a wash cloth.
	"Shall I get you a wash cloth?" he said, pausing for a minute.
	"Do you want me to use one?" I returned.  He looked down at his
wash cloth and back to me.  Then he flung the wash cloth and grabbed the
soap.
	"Nope.  This is better."  And it was.  Every touch fired up
something new within me; each sweep of his hands on me or mine on him
heightened the enjoyment for me.  From his constant mewing, it sounded like
it had the same effect on Grant.
	"It's when it feels this good, huh?" he asked still rubbing me.
This time he was in front of me and had his hands wrapped around me,
washing and massaging my buttocks.  I knew how it was.  I was doing to him
all the things that I wanted him to do to me and so was he.
	"What's when it feels this good, bud?"
	"When you get a stiffy.  I can feel you between us.  Your thingy is
wedged in there and pushing on my stomach."  Now his head was resting
against my chest and he was slowly doing circles with his palms on my
cheeks; the ones in back of me.  I was stroking from his shoulders to his
butt, massaging there for a second and moving back up to start again.
	"Yeah.  You're right.  And this feels as good as I could imagine."
There was some friction against me and his stomach but not enough to cause
me to lose sight of my goal.  Just then I adjusted his feet a little,
moving them so that they were on either side of one of my legs.  I could
feel something poking me until he wiggled around so it could lay flat
against my leg.  I wanted him to have maximum contact.  He moved side to
side a few times.
	"Oo-oo-oow.  That's nice," he cooed.  I slid my hands down to
gently hold each of his butt cheeks and began to hump him against my leg.
For a minute there was silence except for the water running off of us.  I
almost pulled him away to see if everything was okay.  It was.
	"Uh-uh-uh," he started.  "What is that?  Oh, wow.  That's good.  I
didn't know."
	"Sh-h.  Just feel it Grant.  Let it take hold."
	"I gotta pee I think."  I shushed him again and enjoyed his sounds.
I was also enjoying the feelings I was getting from helping him reach what
I expected to be his first orgasm.  I could feel each of his buttocks
getting harder in my hands as he climbed his ladder of ecstasy.  He'd move
one way then another and each movement made a slightly different moan.  He
slipped way down and then up and then did it again, pushing into my leg as
he did.  That was all it took to begin his finale.  His moans were getting
deeper, more intense.  After a minute or so his movements were more like he
was trying to climb into my leg; to get as close as possible.  There was an
urgency that seemed almost instinctual: something that made him work harder
for whatever still eluded him.  Then he just started shaking.  I made sure
my arms held him so he wouldn't fall and I continued to knead him into my
leg.  He felt wonderful in my arms.  I could have held him forever.  But I
really wanted to let his experience be something wonderful too.  He was
mostly silent except for some deep breathing and I could feel him slow
down, after a bit, and become very limp.  I slid to the shower floor with
him to hold him and be there to explain things to him when he was ready.
	I had to scoot us over a little so the water didn't hit him
directly.  He wrapped his arms around me but he didn't have the strength
yet to hug me.  So I held him close to me, reveling in the act I was able
to share with someone for the first time ever.  I never even thought about
the possibility before I met Grant; before I came to Euphoria.  I kissed
him on the head a few times and waited with him.
	"David," came the weakest whisper from my guy lying in my arms.
	"What is it little man?  How are you feeling?"
	"Wow!  That was, well, it was, wow."
	"Can you stand up?  Are you ready to get out?"
	"No.  I think I want to live here forever."
	"Pretty soon we'll wash down the drain."
	"Hm-m-m.  Okay."
	I gently lifted him into my arms and rose to my feet.  He was dead
weight.  But he felt glorious in all the places I was touching.  He seemed
to give off his own warmth and radiance.  I was finally able to get to
where I could look into his face.  I swear, if I saw angel's wings sprout,
I wouldn't have been surprised.  Grant wasn't stunning.  His face wasn't
necessarily 'model' material.  But who I held in my arms, the one with the
sweetest smile and flushed cheeks, naked, wet and perfect, was the most
amazing creation ever, to me.
	"Wow!  What a day this has been," I thought to myself with a
chuckle.
	"I know," came a sleepy whisper from my bundle.  What is it about
this place or me?  I can't even carry on a good 'think' by myself.  Oh
well, I certainly can't complain about the experiences I've had in the last
few days, ha!  No, a week!

NTLFG - The End of Chapter Five
To be continued

Comments on the story are appreciated.  Thank you. I'm Matthew Templar at
matemp1148@yahoo.com