Date: Sun, 30 Apr 2006 17:14:32 -0700 From: Kevin Harness Subject: Until Zory Came Along... Chapt 4 The usual diclaimers apply - if you aren't old enough per your laws / statutes to read this, don't. If you are offended by gay inter-generational relationships or by gay material in general, don't read this story. If, however, you find boylove an interesting subject, please read on. All characters in the story are played by persons 18 years of age or older, and the story is fictional. If it were a real story, I would normally change the names to protect the person or persons involved. ************************ If you've ever slept soundly in the wilderness or while camping, and your sleep is gently replaced by an ever-increasing awareness of the surroundings and yet you haven't opened your eyes yet, you know what I'm talking about. Then the aroma of fresh coffee brewing almost floats you out from under the covers and levitates you to the campfire or breakfast table. And if that didn't get you up, the wafts of bacon cooking nudges your stomach to begin talking to its owner about seriously considering getting up OUT of the bed, n-o-w. Somehow, I managed to navigate out of the guest room and across the hall to the bathroom. Nature was calling and my personal pointer was leading the way. Fortunately the bathroom was empty. I was just coaxing my erect member to deflate somewhat so I could pee, when there was a rap on the door. "John?" "Yeah, it's me. Almost don......." I began to say, when the door to the bathroom opened quietly but quickly, followed by Zory apologizing and saying he had to pee badly. "I..." I tried again. Didn't do any good. He rushed to the toilet and stuck his boyhood out and pushed it downward so as to thankfully hit the water, and began peeing before I could saying anything else, or quit peeing myself. This time, I looked. If I don't miss my guess, so did Zory. I'm not sure if I fully finished my task or not, but I dutifully tried. Although I could see Zory's semi-erect penis urinating into the bowl, I concentrated on trying to pee instead of getting a stiffie. "Thanks, John," and he smiled at me as though I'd just given him a piece of gum, or passed the salt at the dinner table. In other words, no biggie. "No probs, big guy, see ya for... " and then I realized that might not have been the exact correct thing to say, "... for breakfast." He giggled, "You crack me up. Be there in a few minutes," and out he went. Truthfully, I'm not sure what the house rules were on people using the bathroom at the same time or one at a time, but neither was I sure how to ask the question. I decided to file it for further inspection. I dressed myself and made the bed, and hit the bathroom to brush my teeth and put my hair into some sort of presentable appearance. The door was open and Zory was brushing away. I hesitated slightly, and was going to let him finish, when he motioned me in and moved over a bit so that I could use the sink too. Okie dokie. When he was done, he literally took a small handful of hair gel and at about 458 mph applied it to his head evenly, then put the top hairs up with two quick motions, and laid down all the side and back hairs in about 3 more seconds. He was looking in the mirror right and left a bit to see how it all looked, and I realized about half a second too late that I was staring in the mirror at his every move. "What?" he asked, "is the back of my hair still scrunched up from sleeping?" "Nope," I said pretty well, considering I still had a mouthful of toothpaste foam. He shrugged and smiled in the mirror back at me, and then head out the door. "Breakfast time," he announced as he descended the stairs rapidly, making the whole place vibrate as though buffalo also lived there. Good HEAVENS this boy was adorable! Which brought instantly to mind my dream from a few hours ago, and the situation which surrounded it. How much did he remember? While he was a pretty friendly kid and seemed to like me, did he just sleep walk and end up in my bed? It was pretty easy to understand that since the bed was already pretty full, he had to squinch in toward me to not fall off the side of the bed. Did just the proximity of another body excite him and perhaps carry out some dream he was having too? Did he really do it all on purpose? If so, I couldn't help but wonder if he'd done this sort of thing before. Was he gay and just needed an outlet? Did he want to be the loved boy of a boylover? One thing was for sure: he'd either remember it, or not. And there was no telling where either of those realities would lead. Breakfast was light, but very good. A bit of scrambled eggs, some whole wheat toast, a couple pieces of bacon, and coffee. Well, o.j. for Zory. We chit-chatted about the movie, and Natalia asked us how the second movie was, and how I'd slept. "Well," I laughed a bit, "I was out like a rock, but I felt like I had good dreams. Thanks, you two, I sincerely appreciate the invitation and the hospitality." "Our pleasure," Natalia answsered. "Yeah, it was fun cooking," Zory added. "The movies were great, and I slept good too," he smiled at both of us. "Oh, thanks for saying goodnite to me, John, that was cool." I nodded a bit hesitatingly, but Zory saved the day - knowingly or unknowingly. "Mom, after I brushed my teeth I asked if he could just say goodnite to me before he went to bed. I thought that would be nice," Zory said with true innocence. Natalia smiled and nodded, "Zory, don't be making John run around in too many circles, now." Turning to me, she said, "Zory's got built-in velcro, so don't feel bad if you every once in a while have to peel him off your side or your arm and stand him back a foot or so," laughing. Zory giggled at the metaphor as he stuffed a whole strip of bacon into his mouth. "S'ok so far I think, plus I don't see that he's worn his best velcro shirt for the day so I'm probably pretty safe, unless he changes clothes," I quipped, taking a sip of my coffee. Both of them laughed heartily. Natalia and I were talking about what each of us did for jobs, how far we drove to work, and probably half a dozen other things over a nice warm cup of coffee. It was great. Zory was listening while drinking some hot chocolate. "John," he asked, "when did you know you were gay?" "Zory!" his mom exclaimed, and then became visibly embarassed. "I just wanted to know, mom," he pleaded and defended at the same time. "But Zory, it's just that... that..." and she was clearly at a loss for words. And so, it was my turn to save her, and Zory any embarassment. I put my hand up slowly and gently to stop the current conversation trend, and to get their attention. "It's no problem, Natalia, no problem at all. I'm not embarassed, and neither should either of you be," I said. "I'm sorry, John," she sputtered, clearly flustered. "It's just that... " and she looked at Zory for a moment before going on, "he seems to have all sorts of questions on the subject. And I would guess, from what he says, that you just can't ask your friends about it or try to discuss it at all." "No way!" he said, mortified. "You'd be branded a gay-assed fairy forever! And if you try to talk to your counselor about it, they set you up for all sorts of psychiatric interviews and stuff!" "Really?" I asked, genuinely taken aback. He nodded emphatically, "Completely." His mom sighed, and Zory became worse than embarassed. He became quiet and his eyes welled up. "Zory..." his mom said, trying to console him. "S'ok mom. Sorry John." He paused. "I'm going to go make my bed," and he walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs. I could hear his door shut. Natalia clearly did not even have the slightest idea what to say. "Well," I posed, "I see only three options. One, I politely leave and thank you and Zory for a very nice evening and a wonderful breakfast. Two, we have another cup of coffee and you're welcome to talk to me and say or ask anything that you want - and I mean that for real. Three, we pretend everything's ok like the rest of America and go on with our day." She looked at me for a second or two, then got up and brought the coffee pot over to the table and poured both of us another cup. I got an interesting view of another culture that morning, and of two people that I'd barely met. Natalia explained that Zory's father had taken off very soon after the kid was born and they literally never heard from him again. Due to financial constraints, they lived with other family members and in-laws in a small two-bedroom hotel room, Zory slept with other cousins, uncles, aunts, on the floor, whereever there was room. She feared that there were a couple instances that Zory may've been taken advantage of, but she hadn't gotten wind of it until just before she immigrated to America. She obviously feared the worst for her son - that he would change radically personality-wise, or that he wouldn't be able to have a normal and decent relationship later in life. As Zory grew up any traces of any suspected molestations never surfaced. It was only recently that he began asking about gay things - what made people gay, how would one know if they were actually gay, etc, that made her think that the incidents may have indeed turned her son toward homosexuality. I explained as best I could about the various theories and views on why people were gay, predominantly that gays were that way from very, very early, and that although no one really knew the exact cause, it did seem like one probably couldn't be "turned gay". They either were, or they weren't. Further, I explained, boys in puberty had a billion questions, two billion unexplained emotions and feelings, and usually no where to go to seek answers. I told her frankly that adolescent boys frequently played around with each other mostly for an outlet due to their raging hormones, and later in life they had families, held jobs, etc, with no apparent leaning toward a gay life. "Really?" she asked. "Yeah," I returned. "But, only time will tell. He's an exceptionally bright guy, very smart, very quick. He'll make all those decisions and evaluations on his own. All anyone can do is answer his questions as best they can, and as honestly as they can. That's about it. If he turns out heterosexual, ok. If he turns out bi-sexual, ok. If he turns out to be gay, ok. It is what it is, nothing more, nothing less. He's still the same kid, the same teenager, and later the same adult." Natalia smiled and looked down at her coffee, and I took the opportunity to sip a bit more of mine. She clasped my forearm with her hand and said, "Thank you. Thank you very much. I think this is about the best cup of coffee I've had in a very long time." I smiled. "Me too." Then, slightly pained, she looked up at me. "Zory?" I asked. She nodded. "I'm willing to talk with him and answer whatever I can for him, if you'd like." She nodded again and excused herself from the table to go upstairs for Zory. Sigh. Like I said, you just never know what direction things will go. A few minutes later Natalia and Zory arrived back to the breakfast table, with both of them still wiping tears away. Zory looked up at me and gave me a weak smile. "Hey big guy," I started out to see if it'd break up the tension... He sputtered and laughed despite some ongoing tears, laughing at our private joke from earlier. "...I'll answer whatever I can for you, no questions asked. I haven't known you guys for very long, but it's kinda hard not to like you two. What the heck did you put in those Russian Biscuits, anyway?" I feigned. That got an actual laugh out of the both of them. "Zory," his mom asked, "do you want me to sit in here, or go be busy somewhere else?" He thought about it a second, then said, "Whatever you want to do, mom. It's ok with me if you don't want to hear all this, but it's ok too if you want to sit in." Geeze. This kid was about a light-year and a half ahead of 9/10's of the people I'd met in my life. Natalia gave it some thought and smiled, also. "Zory, this is for you. If you need my help or if I can answer questions or whatever, you know you can just ask, ok? In the meantime, I'm going to go make my bed," and she winked at him. He gave her a big hug, "Thanks, mom." "John, if you need anything just help yourself or ask Zory where it is." "Thanks," I said. Zory and I talked about tons of stuff, and he asked all the obvious questions. He asked about me and my gay life growing up, I guess, so he'd have some sort of yardstick to judge things by. I guess he was saving the best questions for last. "How would I know if I'm gay or not?" he asked, serious as a judge. "Um, how old are you?" I asked. "I just turned twelve. I'm a little short for my age, so people think I'm like 10 or maybe 11 sometimes." "Ok, cool. Well, I didn't know how old you were, it was kinda hard to tell," I said honestly. And then I blushed. "Uh, I didn't mean it t-h-a-t way, Zory." He guffawed, "I know, but it was way funny watching you try to explain your way out of it." Soooooo cute! "Well, ok," I said, returning to the question at hand. "Give me as frank an answer as you can Zory. And I'm not even going to ask if you do or not, I'm asking directly about it, period. Do you think of guys or girls when you, you know, masturbate?" This beautifully fair-skinned boy turned eleven shades of red. I gave him several seconds of silence before I spoke. "Guys, right?" I asked honestly. He nodded. "Do girls boobies or girls or getting them alone or thinking about them interest you or make you excited, like at all?" "No," he said hoarsely. I said "Ok" as nonchalantly as I could, and said, "next question?" It took him a couple seconds to grasp that his arduous search which had probably plagued him endlessly was done and over with in a snap of the fingers. "What is gay sex like?" he asked, bouncing right back. I laughed slightly, and answered as forthright and yet passively as I could. "It is wonderful, Zory, many times more than anything you've already experienced, excuse me, by yourself," I smiled. "Cool," he smiled, "cool." I could sense that we were probably done with the conversation at this point, and that everything needed to soak in, as it were. He was back to the happy, sparkley-eyed beautiful blonde boy that I'd first seen at the scout meeting. "I'll be right back," and he calmly walked out of the kitchen. He brought his mom back, and sat her down. "Thanks mom. I got a lot of my questions answered," and he smiled, mostly to himself. "Well, you appear happier! That's nice, Zory... and thank you, John. You've been so kind," she said. "It's been amazing meeting you and Zory, coming here, and of course being able to help out what little I could," I returned. "Thank you, both of you." "Little?!" Zory exclaimed. "You're like a best friend, a teacher, and a gay guru all rolled into one!" and we all laughed. Then he said, "Do you like X-Box?" Natalia stepped in immediately, "Velcro-boy, John may actually have plans beyond having dinner last nite." I smiled at her, and then Zory. "Halo 2?" I asked with a definite air of superiority. "Beat your butt," he defended. "I don't THINK so, Scooter," I retorted, laughing. "AW! Blue Collar Comedy Tour!" he nearly yelled, "I LOVE that one!" jumping up from the table and bouncing up and down like a four-year old. I don't think the term 'cute' even began to describe it. Natalia looked at me helplessly. "John, you don't have to stay. You're welcomed to stay of course, and I mean that. But please don't feel obligated." I looked at her and then gave Zory my meanest look, "I think a thorough defeat on Halo 2 just might teach this novice some X-Box manners." She cracked up, and Zory yelled and jetted out of the kitchen to the living room. She patted me on the shoulder, and moved the few remaining plates off the table as I followed Zory's contrail. I knew I couldn't stay too much longer, but I had to stay just a little more. *************************************************