The following story is about the development of a fully consensual and loving relationship between a man and a pre-adolescent boy. At some point through the story's progression, there will be a graphic display of sexual acts between the man and the boy meant to show the natural progression and development of an intimate and caring relationship. If the topic of man/boy sex offends you, or if this material is illegal in your place or residence, or if you are under legal age, please leave now.
Any similarities between the characters in this story and any persons living and/or dead is purely a coincidence.
This story is protected under the nifty archives license agreement, and the author (me!) releases the right for nifty and nifty alone to post it on the internet. Please do not post this story anywhere else without my consent or knowledge.
Well... this is it, my last posting of TPOM. I really hope you have enjoyed the story I have had to tell, as much as I enjoyed telling it. As I think I alluded to in some previous headers, this story mainly started off as a writing exercise, but it turned into so much more as time went on.
Though I always had an idea of where the story would go, it was Owen who truly made the story what it is. Owen, my love, thank you again. I could never have written this story without you.
If you enjoyed reading this story, if it had any affect on you, either positive or negative (hopefully positive), please let me know. To those of you who did enjoy it, please take heart. I plan on rewriting this story someday, and it is my aim to see it picked up by a real publisher. So keep your eyes peeled. You may one day see copies of TPOM on the bookshelf of your local bookstore! (hehe, yeah right, huh?)
As always, please let me know your thoughts at firstname.lastname@example.org
Voices, sounds and smells weaved in and out of his consciousness. They felt dampened, like a thick wool scarf wrapped too tightly around his head. He tried opening his eyes, but the sleep in them refused to let his lids pull apart. When he tried to use his arms to push himself up, his head grew dizzy, with a strange tingling feeling trickling down his chest.
When he tried to remember anything, it was like swimming though an ocean of jumbled thoughts and memories, impossible to latch onto any one idea. He remembered the sound of sirens, and paramedics telling him things, putting an air mask around him, looking for a good place to stick the IV. He remembered voices telling him not to worry, telling him everything was going to be okay. He remembered lights being shined in his face. The lights had been so bright, blurring his vision until he couldn't see a thing.
Was that light... had that light been.... Did it mean he was dead?
Josh tried to open his eyes again. This time he was able to blink the sleep out of them. The room was dimly lit. The florescent panels overhead were off. He was in a bed. He could feel the sheets pressing down on him, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed pushing against them. He tried to move other parts of his body, feeling a dull ache in one of his legs. The movements came slow, his body unwilling, or unable to give up the lethargy that arrested it. The pain was still there however, even after waiting several minutes, and the more he tried to move it, the more it hurt.
The pain, if anything, was what convinced him he wasn't dead. He didn't think you were supposed to feel pain in heaven. He also didn't think heaven was supposed to be a dimly lit hospital room, where there was an IV attached to your arm, and ECG leads stuck on your chest.
No, he wasn't dead. Every time he moved, even a little, he could feel the pain, even if it didn't feel nearly as bad as it had before.
The pain had been much more severe before. A severe stabbing pain that washed over his body in waves, sapping away at his energy. There had also been blood, his own blood, making him feel nauseous every time he saw it. Steven had been there at first. He was the one who wrapped him, and tried to stop the blood.
Steven had come in, he had tried to stop him. Stop him from.... Then he remembered. It was the whole reason why he was here right now. He had really screwed up. After everything he had went though, he had to go and and muck it all up. Now he was here, lying in a hospital bed, barely able to move. Anger, fear, panic, worry... it swept through his body all at once. What was going to happen now? How could things possibly get any worse?
Josh tried to calm himself, tried to push down the rising tide of worry and confusion. He heard the quiet beats from the ECG machine rise and then fall as he steadied his breathing. There was nothing he could do now. The best he could do was resign to figure something out, some other way to prevent his mother from getting what she wanted.
Once he relaxed a little, better able to clear his mind, another sound in the room caught his ear. It was the sound of breathing. Someone else was in the room with him. The breathing was heavy, and irregular at times. It wasn't the sound of someone who was awake.
Fighting off the dizziness it created, Josh pushed against the bed so he could get a better view of who was in the room with him. The beats of the ECG machine quickened rapidly when he recognized who it was.
"Steev..." Josh tried to say, but the phlegm in his throat and the weakness in his chest made it come out nothing more than a garble.
When he didn't hear any movement, he tried to say his name again, and again, until he finally heard him stir.
"Josh? Oh I'm so glad your awake!" Steven said, popping out of the chair he was sleeping in, quickly shaking off his own lethargy.
Steven was next to him only a few moments later. Even with the dim lighting, he could see Steven's face. It was that kind and gentle face he always saw when Steven tried to comfort him. And it was a comfort. Seeing that face made him feel more at ease than any drug the doctors could give him.
"It's so good to see you with your eyes open. How are you feeling?" Steven asked, gentling squeezing his hand.
"Hurts," Josh breathed out.
It felt so nice, Steven's tender grasp. His hand felt warm against his own cold skin. He let that warmth radiate through him taking as much of it as he could. In Steven's hold, all of his troubles could melt away, leaving nary a thing to worry about.
"Shh. Everything will be okay. I promise," Steven said, bringing his other hand up to wipe the sweat off his brow. "You lost a lot of blood, so you probably feel very weak. You had all the doctors worried for a while. They weren't sure you would make it out of surgery okay. But you did. They didn't know exactly when you would wake up, but they thought it wouldn't be until morning, although it's almost morning now. They told us to go home and get some sleep, but we both decided it was far more important to be here for you when you woke up," Steven said.
Josh tried to absorb Steven's words, taking to heart the news that he was okay, even though he still felt some pain. He was also glad Steven had decided to stay here with him, even though it meant sleeping in the hospital. Nothing made him happier than having Steven with him here now.
"You just rest easy. The doctor said, depending on how you feel, you might be able to check out later today. If you can, your mother has already agreed you can spend the next few nights at my house while you recover."
Josh's eyes grew wide at the news. He was going to get to stay at Steven's? How was this possible? How could his mother.... how would she agree to such a thing?
"How could- mom?" Josh started, growing frustrated with his weakness.
Steven gave him another comforting smile. "You're mother and I, we have worked out an arrangement. She has agreed to let you come over whenever you want. I'm even going to have the spare bedroom set up, just in case you want to spend the night."
Josh wanted to throw himself out of the bed and hug Steven tightly. He wanted to hold him tight and thank him profusely. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. If what he said was true, then everything he had dreamed about could happen. If they could be together, then that meant he could continue teaching him piano, and have even more time to play together than they did before. With Steven's help, he might be able to do all the things Steven talked about, like enter more competitions, maybe even the national competition. As long as he had Steven, anything seemed possible.
At the same time, it all sounded too good to be true. He wanted to be with Steven more than anything in the world, not just for the music. It was also for the way Steven loved him, and the way Josh loved him back. It was Steven's love for him that made him feel so special. It made him feel like he could fly. Like he could soar into a bright blue sky of possibilities. It was because of that he knew his mother would never agree. How could Steven have convinced her? How was anything about what he just said even possible?
Josh tied to form his next question when someone else walked into the room.
"Is he awake?" The voice was undeniably his mother's. "Oh thank the lord you are okay."
She reached her hand to him, but he recoiled, shifting away from her as much as he could. The relief on her face soon withdrew into a frown.
Steven made to get up and make room for his mother, but Josh squeezed his hand tighter, refusing to let go. When his mother saw this, her expression softened. "It's alright Steven, you can stay with him."
Josh breathed out a sigh, drawing Steven's hand a little closer.
"Josh, I... I don't even know how to begin my apology to you. I can see so clearly now how much I've hurt you, how much pain I've caused. You opened my eyes last night. You showed me how wrong I was. I know... I know-"
She stopped short, putting her hand over her face. Was she actually crying?
"I know it's going to be really hard for me to earn back your trust, and your love. But I hope that one day... you can find it in your heart to forgive me."
It was obvious now that she was crying. She wept into her hands, acting in such a way like he never saw her before. Not in all his life had he ever seen her cry, nor had he ever heard her utter words of apology, especially to him. Now here she was, crying by his bedside.
At first he wanted to think she was lying, and this was all just another of her elaborate ploys, but he could see her tears as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Those tears did not look fake, and neither did the way she had said those words. Maybe she really was telling the truth.
"I'm going to make things better. I promise. I think I realize how much Steven means to you now, and I have dropped all the charges against him. You can be with him as much as you like, and I promise not to get in the way," She said, using a tissue from her purse to clear her eyes.
"My only request is, if you could maybe come and stay with me sometimes too, okay?" She added with a smile, putting a hand on the bed, careful this time to avoid physical contact.
If that face was lying, it was the best lying face Josh had ever seen. After all his mother had put him through, he still didn't know if he could trust her, but.... There was something about her eyes. Something inside her had changed. He didn't know what exactly, but she didn't seem at all like the same person from last night. She didn't seem like the person he had been so ready to shoot.
Without letting go of Steven, Josh let his other hand slide across the bed. Ever so slowly, he let one of his fingers rub against his mother's. It was all the signal he could really give, and the only thing he was really prepared for. That one touch must have been enough though, because it caused yet another round of crying.
Maybe Steven had been right after all. Maybe she didn't have to die for them to get what they wanted. Maybe... maybe he had accomplished what he had set out do do after all, without anyone really getting hurt. Well... here he was in the hospital, so maybe he hadn't accomplished that goal all the way. But he was going to be okay. Steven had said so.
As long as there was Steven, and the music they shared together, he knew he had nothing at all to worry about.