Date: Wed, 03 Oct 2001 14:01:20 +0000 From: Darren Talbot Subject: gay male/adult youth/the library, chapter eleven the library chapter 11 *be sure to check out my other story, 'his eyes' over in gay male/historical section...in a funny way, these two stories kind of tie in! (all cautions regarding the legality of this story in your area and the fictionality of it's content are applicable) ____________________________________ I moved the stick into neutral and shut the engine off. Josh's eyes were wide and his little grin touched his lips. The condo complex stretched up above us. "Come on, kiddo. What is it?" I asked. There was a pause, "You always said your house. I never thought you lived here." he said, almost in a whisper. I grinned. Don had been that way, too. I had decided to treat myself after a particularly good paying job a year ago and move out of the crappy apartment I'd been in. I enjoyed the place, but mostly for it's view, it's quiet. My neighbors seemed to think that living here made them somehow better than other people. I have no idea why. "Doors, Josh." I said, reminding him. He looked at me for a second, then started, "Oh. Right. Sorry." he said, locking his door. I pulled the satchel from the backseat and slung it over my shoulder. Mellville seemed to groan under his own weight. The other book was curiously silent, as it always had been. Josh waited for me on the other side of the car as I came around. It seemed he was too afraid to move. I put my arm around his shoulders and led us inside. The doors slid aside as we approached, revealing a large lobby with garish carpet and art all over the walls. Josh seemed entranced. We walked to the elevator, past the desk clerk, then I remembered, "Josh, go stand next to the elevator. I'll be right back." As soon as my arm was no longer in contact with him, he seemed lost and just watched me for a second, until I shooed him toward the door. I walked over to the large desk. "Hi, George." I said, leaning both forearms against the desk. George stood up out of his chair, "Mr. Walcott." He said, casually. "Listen, George, My two nephews are in town and my be staying with me for some time. I need them added to the guest list, and I need an extra key made, okay?" I asked, my best amicable smile on. In my head I was begging for no questions. Praying for it. "Sure, Mr. Walcott. I'll just need thier names for the lists. Will they be using the Recroom?" He asked. "No, that's not necessary. Josh and Christopher. How soon can I get that key?" He went into a little cupboard off to one side and came back with a shining piece of metal, "Don't tell anyone. We're supposed to cut a new one, but we have several extra's for the cleaning staff and maintenance. You don't mind, do you?" He asked. "Sure don't, George. You're the greatest." I said, taking the key and turning away. Josh looked dwarfed standing next to the elevator doors. In a way, it was charming. This tiny lost boy, refugee from his own father, clothes ragged, hair a mess, surrounded by all this useless opulance. Seemed like a photograph for a magazine cover. I pressed the button for up. "This place is beautiful." Josh whispered. "No, Josh. This place is pretensious and dull. This is what thier idea of beautiful is. I think it's more important to find your idea and surround yourself with that." I said, and the doors split open. Mrs. Larabie came out, walking her poodle, as if on cue. I couldn't help but smile. She was wearing jogging clothes to walk the dog, which was pretty standard, but all her jogging clothes were major name labels. The little cotton shorts she was wearing, hiking into her nether regions, already, probably cost more than all the clothes I had on. Her dog started immediately to snif Josh's leg. "Why, Daniel!" She said, mock excited, "How've you been? And who is this handsome young man?" "His name is Josh. He's my nephew, in from out of town. Josh, this is Denise Larabie, our neighbor. He'll be staying with me for a while. He and his brother." "Well, that's marvelous. You'll simply have to bring them over for dinner, sometime. Our Rodney is grown, you know. Long out of the nest." She said, with a dramatic vaudeville sigh at the end, just for good measure. "Well, we have to be going, Denise. We'll see you around." I said, putting my arm around Josh's shoulders to usher him into the elevator. "Goodbye, Daniel. And you too, young man." She said. Josh halfheartedly waved as the doors closed, then we both burst out laughing, "See what I mean?" I asked. The sixth floor is where we stopped and stepped out into the hall. I walked to my door, put the key in and opened it, sliding the extra key into my pocket; I'd present it later. Josh stepped inside, and I heard his dramatic intake of breath. I closed the door behind us, and, remembering what it was like to be a boy, I walked to the kitchen to put tea on. He'd be wandering around exploring for a time, I knew. I took the satchel back to my bedroom, laying it carefully on the small coffee table I had there. Back in the kitchen, I decided on Earl Grey. The water was already starting to bubble when he came into the kitchen. "I can't stay here, Daniel." "And why not?" "It's too nice. I can't stay." I stood and walked to him, putting one hand on his shoulder, the other on the strap of his backpack. I moved the strap off his shoulder, saying "Josh, this is just a home. It's just where I live. You are as much a part of it as anything that's in it." I took the backpack into the bedroom and set it on the table, next to my satchel. When I turned around, Josh had already slipped out of his shirt and was undoing his pants. He had already kicked off one of his shaggy blue Converse, and was toeing out of the other. "Whoa...not that I'm not flattered, but what are you doing, Josh?" "Thanking you." He said, still sliding out of his clothes. I hurried to him, stopping his hands, and shifting his chin up to look at me, "Whoa, there. Hey. Josh, those days are over. Just knowing that that man isn't touching you anymore...that's thanks enough for me. You and I, we don't ever have to have sex again, and I'd still love you." His eyes were filling, and, absently, the monster in me wondered just how many times a day could someone cry. His arms relaxed, falling away from his zipper, "But you've been so nice to me." "Because I love you, not because I want anything from you. Here," I said, picking up his shirt, and handing it back to him. I did have to admit, his warm chest, his bright pink little nipples, it was breathtaking. But now was not the right time. "Don't you want me?" He asked, holding the shirt up to his chest. I touched his chin, then tilted his head up to me and kissed him lightly on the lips. Still holding his chin up to me, "I do want you. And I love you. I care about you very very much. But right now, you're upset and confused and all kinds of other stuff. How about we just cuddle here, on the couch, and you relax while we wait to go pick up your brother?" He nodded weakly and I led him over to the couch, sitting down length-wise, and putting one leg on the floor to make room for him. He sat down, stretching out. I saw that he was barely long enough for his feet to touch the other end of the couch. He leaned back against me, his head nuzzled under my chin. His hair smelled that rich earth and sweet starawberry smell of boys. I leaned my head father down, kissing the top of it. He wrapped his arms around his chest, and I wrapped mine over the top of his, enveloping his thin frame. His skin warm on mine. "Who are all those pictures?" He asked, looking at my wall. There were lots of photos on the far wall. It was an idea I'd gotten from my mother, a tradition. I wondered with his eyes why he coudln't see the little smiles were all the same. "That's me." I said. "You? Really?" He asked. "Yeah. My mother did that at home. She and her two brothers and me and my father...each of us had a wall in a different room. See? There I am in kindergarten on the left, and that's me from about a year ago on my skiing trip in Vale." "Your hair was different." He said, looking at the kindergarten picture. "Yeah. I was born blonde hair and blue eyed, but it changed into this. Brown. Ugh." He turned his head, resting his shoulder against my chest, "I like it, Daniel. It's the same color as Oak." I kissed him on the lips, "Thank you." I said, and was about to say more, but he attacked me. He grabbed the back of my head, pushing my lips back to him. His lips parted, and his thin tongue came against my lips, caressing them wetly. I let my own tongue out, touching his. He curved his tongue upward, and stroked the underside of mine. I was hard enough to burst out of my skin instantly. I opened my eyes to find him staring at me, the same as before. I pulled away, slowly, "Why do you kiss with your eyes open?" I asked. "Because I don't want to miss a moment of it." He said, gently pulling on the back of my head, pulling me to him again. And then the kettle whistled. The tea was done, completely ruining the moment. His face fell. I scooped one arm under his ass, the other across his chest and under his arm. In one motion, picking him up off of me and laying him back down. I leaned in and kissed him on the end of the nose, which brought a smile back to his lips. My watch read one thirty five as the kettle's screech grew higher and higher. ____________________________________ *end chapter eleven More to come! questions and comments, always welcome.