They had gone at it twice the previous night. After the initial penetration, Owen had taken his time, patiently waiting while CJ adjusted. The teen grunted through the first few stabs, but eventually became accustomed to having the other man inside him. In time, the grunts turned to moans of pleasure. CJ wrapped his legs around Owen's waist and pulled the Aussie's head towards his own before getting lost in a kiss. As it was bound to happen with young men, gentleness eventually gave way to an athletic encounter, which led to almost simultaneous orgasms.
CJ's cum glued portions of their chests and stomachs together, while the sweat pouring from them made other parts of their skin slippery. Owen suggested a shower to clean-up; CJ refused, smiling while he ran his index finger through the matted hair on his torso, claiming sex was meant to be messy. The second time, they reversed positions. Owen laid on his stomach, while CJ stretched out on top of him, and both became lost in their passion once again. The smell of men permeated the air. CJ pulled out, rolled off the condom, and dropped it on the floor. He slid off his friend and collapsed on the bed, staring at the fan whirring above them, catching his breath. Owen turned to face him, laid his head on CJ's shoulder, and ran his fingers through the teen's clumping chest fur. Without a word being said, they drifted off to sleep.
Hours later, Owen woke when he felt movement behind him. "What are you doing, mate?" he asked, feeling CJ unwrap his arms from around him.
"Morning. I'm looking for a condom."
"There should be one left. Look on the floor."
Still unopened in its gold foil package, CJ found the remaining prophylactic underneath the bed, near the full ones they'd tied off and discarded the previous evening. CJ reached for it, tore it open with his teeth, and rolled Owen on his back so he could fit it on the man's erection.
"Aren't you sore? We don't have to do this, you know?"
"It's just like you said: there's like a dull ache, but it feels good. And of course I want to do this. I want to feel you inside me again."
• • •
"G'day," greeted Owen, sitting down at the table where JP and Tom were already tucking into their breakfast.
"Morning," replied Tom. "What's with everyone being lazy this morning? Where are your dads?" he asked, looking at CJ. Both younger men wore cargo shorts and sleeveless t-shirts; a plain yellow one for Owen, and a black Harley-Davidson one―a large, blue toned V-Twin engine on it―for CJ.
"Beats me," answered the teen. "Your room's right by theirs. We aren't even on the same floor."
"Speak of the devils," commented JP, alerting his tablemates to their entrance with a jerk of his head.
CJ turned around to see his fathers walking in, their hair wet, wearing shorts and polo shirts. "Did you two shower together to save water? Is that why you're smiling so much?"
"Damn right!" said Brett. "I'm not sure we saved any water, but we're squeaky clean now. What's your excuse for the big assed smile on your face?"
CJ quickly looked away from his dads, grabbed the glass of water on the table in front of him, and took a sip. "I'm just in a good mood," he said, his cheeks coloring.
"Right," said César, as he sat. "Good morning, Owen. Would you have any idea why my son's in such a good mood this morning?"
Looking at CJ before replying, Owen's face was split by a smile like everyone else seemed to have around the table. "I just think smiles are contagious, sir. You and the captain started it, you know?"
"Oh hell, you may as well know the truth." CJ raised his head and looked at the men surrounding him. "I'm smiling `cause we ran out of condoms this morning. We need to buy some more later today."
Tom spit out juice all over himself and the table, gagging as he nearly dropped his glass and reached for a napkin. JP's laughter was loud enough to make a couple of guests look in his direction. Owen gasped and buried his face in his hands. César and Brett looked at each other, and while the marine shook his head, his husband tried to speak. "I see..."
"Are we gonna face the same issue when Bradley and Patrick come stay with us next summer?" asked JP, looking at his husband before shifting his gaze to César and Brett. "A condom shortage? How the hell do you guys deal with this shit?"
"Hell, think of Doc. He's already got Chipper at his place," replied Tom. "And the kid's moving in full time. Maybe we can get a discount if we buy them by the case?"
"That works, Uncle Tom." CJ stood and motioned with his thumb towards the table in the middle of the room holding food. "I'm starved. Anyone else eating?"
"I'm with ya, mate." Owen headed directly towards the large container of sliced fruits resting inside a larger one full of ice chips. "And I need some tea."
"So, Papa, what's the plan for today?" CJ looked over at his dad standing next to him with an empty plate in his hand, both appraising the bread choices.
"You mean aside from going shopping?" The marine smirked, taking a mini baguette. "Sightseeing, a nap, and then a party?"
"We were invited to a New Year's Eve party at the home of one of the firm's partners," said César. "I told you guys last night, but I guess you weren't paying attention."
"Ummm, I guess that means we won't be together at midnight?"
"Why?" asked César, looking confused.
"Well, if you and Papa are going to this party..."
"The invitation was for all six of us, CJ." They were back at their table and César sat next to JP. "I explained we were traveling as a group. It's a big house right on the water. Some fancy place area called East Sydney."
"That's a rich neighborhood, mate," contributed Owen.
"I don't think that's a good idea." CJ looked unhappy as he sat back down. "We're in Sydney on New Year's Eve and we're going to be in some house having to act all proper? It's like being in a hotel on Times Square and not stepping outside for the dropping of the ball. I'd rather we hang around the hotel, party in the streets, and watch the fireworks from the roof. I don't want to get dressed up. Thongs, cargos, and a T is all I want to wear."
"The kid has a point." Everyone turned towards Tom. So far he'd gone along with anything planned by everyone else during the trip. "I don't feel like getting dressed and sipping cocktails with a bunch of strangers."
"Wow!" exclaimed JP. "How come you didn't say anything last night?"
"'Cause I didn't want to rock the boat. If everyone wanted to go to this shindig, I'd been fine and gone along. But since CJ has a different opinion..."
"I guess we could go for a little while and then come back here," suggested Brett.
"That might not work, Captain." Owen spoke softly, as if he didn't want anyone to think he was being pushy. "They'll be closing down streets starting early, and it'll be crazy out there. You might get stuck in traffic."
César looked around the table, pausing when he got to CJ. "So you'd want us all to be together out here?"
"Yeah," replied the teen, vigorously nodding.
"Okay. I'll make a call and see if I can get us out of this graciously."
• • •
Due to the impending road closures, the men left their rental car behind, and strolled through the Central Business District towards the Royal Botanical Gardens. Along the way, Owen explained the Gardens had been established almost a hundred years before and were the oldest scientific institution in Australia.
"I'm surprised your dads were so agreeable about cancelling their plans to go to their party." Owen and CJ had taken the lead after leaving The Rocks, and remained a few steps ahead of the other men.
"My dads are cool guys. I think they'll enjoy being out on the streets tonight. More than they would have at a serious party with people they barely know."
"You're very close to them, aren't you?"
"Oh man, you have no idea. When my step-father threw me out, I thought it was the end of the world. My dads made me realize I'd done nothing wrong. It was all dickhead's fault."
"Sounds like he did you a favor."
"He did. It took me a while to figure it out. But he did do me a favor."
"It must have been hard at first."
"It was, and it wasn't. The dads went crazy over me. They kept me so damn busy I didn't have a lot of time to feel sorry for myself. And then I beat up that biker the second weekend I was in town―"
"You beat up a biker? Why? What happened?"
"I got real popular with their friends," replied CJ, chuckling and shaking his head. Sometimes he was amazed at everything he'd experienced over such a short span of time. "That's what ended up happening afterwards. See, there's this really big motorcycle rally in Washington every year..."
• • •
"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" The shout came from thousands of voices simultaneously. The throngs out on the streets, clearly inebriated even though alcohol consumption was supposedly banned outdoors, roared as the clock struck midnight. CJ, his dads, his uncles, and Owen had by then ensconced themselves on the roof terrace of their hotel. Although other guests strolled in and out of the area, they were left mostly alone. None of the other guests paid them much attention, focusing instead on everything else going on around.
The teen hugged and kissed his dads, repeated the process with his uncles, and then wrapped his arms around Owen.
"Happy New Year, handsome," said the teen, tilting his head upwards to look at the Aussie's eyes.
"Happy New Year, mate," replied Owen, closing the distance between them and bringing their lips together.
They clung to each other as the night sky was lit by fireworks. The display was somewhat special this year; the Sydney Opera House was celebrating its fortieth anniversary. Lost in their connection, CJ barely heard the rising roar of the crowd as each rocket exploded, bathing them all in the glare of the multicolored show.
"Okay, time to breathe." Brett's comment, whispered next to his ear, made CJ jump back, surprised. He looked at his dad and then lowered his gaze. His cheeks felt flushed, and his heart beat a fast staccato in his chest.
"Ummm," mumbled the teen. "Sorry, Papa."
"Nothing to be sorry for," replied Brett. He placed an arm around each of the young men. "But you're missing the fireworks."
"I don't know about that." César took hold of his son's arm and pulled him towards his body. "I think they were pretty caught up by their own display. Hey, baby boy," he said, wrapping both arms around his son from behind. CJ leaned his head back against his father's shoulder and smiled. "Have I told you how much I love you, lately? I just want you to know I'm real happy we got to bring in twenty-fourteen together. This past year has been the best one ever. I was able to marry one of the men I love. And you, the other man I love, arrived in Washington to live with us permanently. I'm so looking forward to having the two of you with me this coming year. And for a long time to come."
• • •
CJ was on his back, his legs resting on Owen's shoulders, as the Aussie see-sawed into him. The moaning and grunting both were doing was muffled by their lips being plastered together, their tongues battling for space inside the other one's mouth. The friction Owen's stomach exerted on his penis had CJ ready to blast. He moved his head slightly, freeing his lips, and screamed.
"Go for it, babe." Owen intensified his thrusting and then buried himself entirely inside CJ. "Ohhh shit! I'm there... Ohhh shit! I'm coming with you!"
"Fuck!" CJ inched away from Owen and reached for the ringing phone on the nightstand. "Hello? Why are you calling me so early in the morning?" He finished opening his eyes as he listened, and glanced over his shoulder at Owen. The big, blond guy was on his back, stretching his arms over his head as he came awake. "Yeah, yeah. He's up. Damn is he up!"
"Who's that?" asked Owen, reaching for CJ, pulling him back into his body.
"Here, you talk to Papa. I have to go pee." CJ handed the phone over and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He stood as soon as his feet hit the floor, and reached for the dresser drawer to pull out something to wear.
"G'day, Captain." Owen watched CJ steady himself by placing a hand against a wall. "Sure, we're fine. We're both up now." The Aussie stared at CJ trying to stuff his erection into a pair of shorts. He flipped the sheet covering him off, and took hold of his own hardness, waving it at CJ while wiggling his eyebrows. "Maybe a bit hung over, but I'm sure a shower will finish waking us up."
"A shower may lead to you sticking that thing inside me again," whispered CJ.
Owen choked back a giggle while nodding. "Yes, sir. We'll meet you downstairs in an hour."
• • •
It was late enough in the morning the men decided to skip a large breakfast, stopping instead at Starbucks to get coffee and a muffin on their way to the ferry. They wanted to get out to the beach before it became crowded with hungover, holiday revelers. CJ was still a bit groggy, but perked up after the caffeine infusion.
"What's that?" CJ asked, pointing at the stone structure on the small island in the middle of the bay. He and Owen were standing on the ship's bow, the older men surrounding them, as they rounded the spit of land on which the Sydney Opera House stood.
"That's Fort Denison," replied JP. "It's an old penal facility. It was also part of the defenses of the bay in the past."
"You know it's open to the public, right? They've done some restoration work, and it's mostly a museum now." Owen glanced to his side, looking at his cousin. "I think it's changed some since you moved away."
"Probably. Like most things." JP gave Tom's hand a quick squeeze. "Funny how all these places are familiar and yet I feel as much a tourist as the rest of you. Home's no longer Australia. It's Alexandria for now. And it'll always be wherever I end up with Tom."
"I know how that feels." CJ put his phone away after snapping one last picture. "That's what it was like when I went back to Florida. Miami will always be my hometown, but it's no longer home."
• • •
The Corso was a pedestrian thoroughfare bisecting the Manly Peninsula, leading from the Manly Wharf on Sydney Harbour to the beach on the Pacific Ocean, the heart of the area's shopping district. After the thirty-minute ride on the ferry, the men strolled towards the ocean side, their destination a surf shop in which to rent the equipment they needed for the next few hours.
Tom and César declined the invitation to surf; they rented fins, masks, and snorkels instead. While the other four hit the waves, the two of them set about exploring the rocky shoreline at the southern end of the sand crescent from beneath the water's edge. The area, known as Shelley Beach, was a sheltered area a short walk south of The Corso, popular for just that purpose.
The six met for lunch at two and gorged themselves on fresh seafood. The surfers recounting their experience, made fun of each other's most spectacular falls. The temperature had climbed; wearing only their shorts they sat outdoors and enjoyed watching the crowds walk by. They attracted plenty of second looks from women and some men, something which became a joke as they in turn ranked their admirers based on looks.
"Nice eye candy," said Tom, winking at his husband. "I could get used to this."
"Yep," replied Owen, before JP could respond. "Best eye candy in the world." His eyes never left CJ as he spoke.
"You know something, Owen? I think I'm going to enjoy having you live with us next year. I've been a little scared but this past week changed my mind."
"Technically, it's this year, Uncle Tom," said CJ.
The elbow Brett jammed into CJ's side made the boy start giggling. "Shut up, CJ. Don't be petulant. Nobody likes a smart ass."
"You were scared of me coming to live with you?" Owen sat up in his chair and furrowed his brow, concern on his face. "How come? I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
"Come on, guys, let's go." Detective Kennedy stood, extending his hand for JP to hold and boost himself up. "Let's take a stroll up the walkway. I want to look at the cliff houses César and I saw from the water earlier. After your brother visited last summer"―Tom placed an arm around Owen's shoulders―"I was concerned you'd turn out to be as much of a prick as he was."
"I'm sorry. I never knew what happened until you guys told me about it. Spencer just said he had a great time, and that CJ was a great guy. He swore I would like him." A quick glance at the teen, and the smile which followed, gave clear indication he thought his brother had been right about the young American.
"Nothing for you to be sorry about, buddy." Tom squeezed Owen's shoulder in a reassuring way. "Spending time with you has cleared up any misgivings I may have had."
"This is going to be fun," said César. "You guys laughed when Brett and I became parents. The diaper and ass wiping jokes are gonna come back to bite you. We have one kid living with us. You're going to have three at the same time when the boys visit from Boston."
"Bloody hell," said JP. "We've had this big place with all those empty rooms, the two of us rattling around in that big place, and all of a sudden we're going to have a full house."
"That's if you have a house by next summer when Owen arrives. You may be living in one of the small condos Brett and I own."
"Mate, I hope we can find a new home before he comes to live with us. Tommy and I've been talking about it. We definitely want at least four bedrooms. I'd like the boys to each have their own space when they come visit."
"Any idea how much of their summer they'll be spending in Washington?" César stopped to rub one of the many small metal relief sculptures embedded onto the boulders lining the path. Tom and Owen didn't notice the rest of the men slowing down, and kept walking lost in their own conversation.
"Not a clue right now. Bradley said he'd like to stay with us his whole vacation. He wants to spend time with CJ and Chipper. Patrick will most likely follow along with his brother. I just hope he gets over his issues with the gay thing."
"Did it come up when they went to Washington for Thanksgiving?"
"Bradley asked us not to say anything. He said he'd been keeping an eye on his brother, and things were fine at the time. Since it was so soon after the trip to New York, we agreed."
"When are they coming back for another visit?"
"Later this month."
"They'll be in DC over the Martin Luther King Holiday Weekend, Dad."
"Shit!" exclaimed JP, shaking his head. "Tom and I don't need to talk to the kids, we can just call CJ and ask him any questions we might have."
"Don't count on it, Uncle JP. I'm not that big on social media, so we all don't chat too much, but both Bradley and Patrick texted me about it. From what I've seen, neither one has posted much about Uncle Tom on Facebook. Bradley said his cousins are all friends of theirs on there, and he and Patrick don't want shit getting back to their grandfather."
"That's fucked up," said Brett. "They should just throw the old man in the river and be done with it."
"Oh, yeah, Papa, sure. Their dad and a few other relatives are cops and you're suggesting murder?"
"I just said throw the fucker in the river. I never said anything about drowning him. Although now that you mention it..."
"Just trying to be helpful." A chuckling Brett grabbed CJ around the neck, leading to the two of them mock fighting while JP and César maintained their pace and walked slightly ahead of the marine and his son.
When CJ disengaged himself, he noticed the metal sculpture on the rock by them was of a female scuba diver. "Look, Papa," he said, running his finger over the metal figurine. "I can now say I've fingered a girl!"
Acting like kids, each new piece of art they encountered led to additional stupid comments. "Here's another cute Australian surfer butt for you to play with," said Brett while stopping in front of one depicting a young man lying on a surfboard.
"Not funny, Papa. Don't start..."
"Hey! I'm not starting anything. Stop being defensive. I like Owen. I'm pretty sure I know some of what you and Owen are doing. And I'm okay with it. Mostly."
"What do you mean mostly?
"Relax, dude. I told you I like him. My one concern's the fact he's older―"
"That again, Papa?" muttered CJ through clenched teeth. He kept his voice barely above a whisper. If it was another fight his father wanted, there was no need for anyone else to hear them. "I thought―"
"Stop, CJ!" The marine grabbed CJ by the elbow, came to a sudden halt, and turned the boy to stare at him. "I'm not saying you can't do stuff with him because he's older. My concern's you getting hurt. He's older and may just be having fun with a younger guy. Plus he lives almost ten thousand miles away from us."
"Well, I'm younger and I'm just having fun with an older guy. So there! And in case you've forgotten, in a few months he'll be just down the street from us."
"And he'll be in law school. Surrounded by people his own age. I don't want you to get hung up on him and then have your heart broken."
CJ stared at Brett for a moment, a smile replacing the frown on his face. He leaned over, gave his father a kiss on the cheek, and placing an arm around the man's waist, propelled him forward. The two were close enough in height, it was easy for the teen to whisper in the older man's ear. "Thanks, Papa. For worrying. But don't. I like Owen. Sex with him is fun. I'll give you all some details later. But I'm not about to want to marry him. Yeah he's great, but he's older and lives far away. This is just a little vacation fun for me."
Their loud guffaws made the rest of the guys stop and wait for Brett and CJ to catch up. "Asshole!" said Brett, shaking his head. "And please spare us, we don't need the play-by-play."
"Okay," replied CJ. "Anyway right now, he's probably a little sore. And so am I."
• • •
"WHAT?" César's shout must have been heard by everyone walking on the street anywhere near the open window of their hotel room. "Stop chuckling," he said to Brett, as the marine hugged his midsection tightly. "You tell me Owen popped CJ's cherry and all you can do is laugh like a hyena?"
"Sorry, babe, but you just reacted the same way I did when I found out this afternoon."
"How did it happen? Is he okay?"
"I don't know when or where, but based on the smirk he gave me, I'd say he's more than all right. He offered to give us details later, but I declined on our behalf."
"Fuck!" César―in the process of removing his clothes―collapsed on the armchair, closed his eyes, and shook his head. "I figured it would probably happen, but still..."
"I know, babe. I know. Our boy won't be able to wear white when he gets married." Brett broke into full laughter watching his husband's expression.
Already somewhat shocked, César opened and closed his mouth several times, resembling a goldfish in a bowl. He stared at the marine and uttered one word in response. "Asshole!"
"Damn, that was good," said CJ, rolling off Owen.
The big Aussie stretched out his legs, arched his back, and grunted his agreement. "Yes it was. What got into you?"
"What do you mean?" The teen was tying off the condom he'd just removed from his deflating erection. He looked at the contents of the latex sheath, smiled, and dropped it on the floor where it landed near the ones they had used the previous night.
"You were real aggressive this morning. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. But I may be walking funny later."
"I don't know," replied a smirking CJ. "You inspired me!"
"I'll have to figure out how to inspire you more often!" Owen closed his eyes, stretched some more, and pulled the sheet they'd thrown aside up to his chin. "I like it when you take control of me like that."
"Come on, lazy. I'll see if the bathroom's available. We need to shower and get going. You know one dad or the other will be calling any minute."
• • •
"Does this mean you'll stop stealing shirts from us?" asked César, handing his credit card to the young woman behind the counter.
"Not a chance," replied CJ. With Owen behind the wheel, the group had taken to the road after breakfast. Their first stop for the day was a Harley-Davidson dealership in the western suburb of Concord. "At least not `til I have enough Harley shirts of my own."
"Are you planning on getting a motorbike, mate?" Owen stood a few feet away from CJ and his dad, eyeing a beautiful Ducati motorcycle. "I'm buying one once I move to the states. JP said public transit is good enough in Washington, a bike would be fine most all the other time. He said if I ever needed an actual car I could borrow his."
"I'd love a Harley of my own at some point. I need to worry about getting my license first."
"Does it have to be a Harley? Wouldn't you consider one of these Ducatis?"
"Ummm, I don't think so. I like Harleys. Plus, anything else would ruin the symmetry of the garage back home. Everything in there is an American brand. Including the dads' motorcycles."
"Don't forget if you buy anything but a Harley, Harley would probably disown you!" César's chuckle was echoed by CJ and Brett.
"Who's Harley?" asked Owen, his eyebrows almost touching, as his facial expression became serious.
"Harley's my bestie back home. We've discovered he's a gearhead, and not only about scooters! And yes, he was named for the bikes. His father and grandfather are both riders."
The rapidly warming temperature led to CJ discarding his hoodie once outside. As Owen and JP discussed road options to their next destination, the teen―phone in hand to snap pictures―studied the exterior architectural details of the dealership. The metal and glass structure was modern and sleek. The upper portions of the steel cladding had been cut out to depict famous motorcycle journeys; CJ recognized the path taken in the movie 'Easy Rider', and the well labeled Route 66, amongst others.
"Let's go, dude," said Brett to his son. "You can discuss all the building design stuff with Randy and Tyler next time you see them."
"Hey! How the heck did you know I was thinking about them?"
"'Cause I'm a marine, I'm smart, and I know my son pretty well."
• • •
Their visit to Olympic Park, where many of the events of the 2000 Sydney Olympic Games were held, was short. The giant venues appeared lonely. Instead of the crowds which had filled the arenas to capacity during the Olympics, there was a small trickle of tourists walking around, and a few athletes apparently using the training facilities. CJ had been three when the games were held in Sydney; he had no real connection to the place.
Their next stop at the University of Sydney campus in Camperdown, an inner western suburb of Sydney, proved much more interesting to him. The beautiful campus abounded with old stone buildings, more modern structures sprinkled throughout, and lots of open green spaces. Since the school was closed for the Holidays, they were unable to eat lunch in the canteen as Owen wanted to. They ended up enjoying a great meal at a small Thai restaurant, near the apartment the Aussie had lived in the past year.
"Hold up a minute," said Owen, as the men walked out of the restaurant. "I'm gonna run next door to the corner shop and get some lollies."
"Bloody hell," exclaimed JP. "Doesn't the boy have enough to suck on already?" CJ's face turned red as the older men all looked at him, chuckling.
"He's got plenty to suck on," replied CJ smugly. "Problem is with you pervs around, he can't very well enjoy his favorite piece of candy." The uproarious laughter which followed left Owen looking around slightly bewildered when he returned. "Ignore them, bud. They're being perverts."
• • •
"Where are we going?" asked CJ, looking at Owen.
"First stop is the bubbler. My mouth's still burning from the curry! Then we have a few choices."
"He means a water fountain, mate," replied JP, pointing at a small cut stone structure a few feet away. "I guess my cuz is still thirsty, even after those beers he had."
"Wow, that looks nice," said CJ, looking at the elaborate structure built to house the drinking spout. "They built that thing just for a water fountain? So where are we going?"
"Down, boy. Down," said Brett from behind his son. "Dude, what's with the go, go, go thing?"
"Come on, Papa. It's our last day in Sydney. I don't want to waste it."
"Hey, Owen," said JP. "How about we take them to The Barracks. It'll give the tossers an idea of how we got started."
"What's that?" asked Tom.
"The Hyde Park Barracks Museum is a great place," replied Owen. "The building's about two hundred years old. It originally housed convict men and boys, who worked for the government."
"Boy convicts? They had kids as convicts? How young were the fuckers?" asked Brett.
Owen replied as he directed the men towards a brick structure surrounded by a stone block wall. "I know there were kids as young as ten. Some had been brought over from England. Some were the sons of female convicts."
Inside, the original layout of the building had been restored, and the conditions the initial occupants lived in recreated. One room was filled with hammocks strung between wooden beams. "Is this were they slept?" asked CJ.
"Yeah," replied Owen. "Not a lot of privacy. I've always wondered how much sex went on. I mean all these men and very few women in the country."
"What a pervert!" exclaimed CJ. "Bet we could make some money with a porn video about it."
"Mate, you're a legend! Are you going to be the star of the film?" Owen wiggled his eyebrows at CJ, eliciting grunts from the older men.
"Assholes!" said César and Brett simultaneously.
The Darlinghurst area, adjacent to Hyde Park, was the heart of Sydney's gay community according to Owen. Walking through the park, the Aussie pointed out the Cathedral, the Australian Museum, and the Anzac Monument―amongst other spots―as he spoke about parading down Oxford Street during Sydney Mardi Gras.
"Mate, you should fly back for Mardi Gras!" he said, looking at CJ. "We would have a blast."
"Sounds like a fun time."
"I'm sure it is," said César, placing an arm around his son. "It's one of the stops on the Gay Party Circuit. And for once, I'm going to say you're too young for a visit this year. I think Papa will agree with me. That's one trip we wouldn't feel comfortable making without us. Plus, the timing sucks. You've got school and I can't take any more time off from work for a while."
• • •
"You're kinda quiet tonight," said Brett, stepping up to the toilet. Unzipping his jeans, he fished inside them for a moment, and next thing César heard was a strong stream hitting the water at the bottom of the bowl.
"About?" asked Brett as he stripped.
"CJ and Owen. Have you noticed our son hardly takes his eyes off the blond kid? I'm worried CJ will have a hard time dealing with the separation once we're home."
"Stop worrying. Owen has apparently been a good vacation romance. In his arms, CJ may have let his cautiousness slip away. But all in all, I don't foresee a problem."
"You don't think he's going to mope around like an abandoned puppy once we get home?"
"Nope. I think that may be the case for Owen, though. He seems to have fallen for CJ the way I fell for you."
"Must be the Latino magnetism we're born with. It attracts hunky blonds."
My thanks to all of you who've e-mailed me with your thoughts on the CJ series. Your continued encouragement helps get me through those times I don't feel much like writing. You may contact me at: email@example.com.
And just like your messages keep me going, your contributions help Nifty stick around. Please help support this wonderful site.