Date: Tue, 5 Sep 2000 16:36:54 -0400 (EDT) From: Chris G Subject: turnabout-two-ten Here it is, guys. The tenth and final chapter of Turnabout. I'd like to say a huge thank you to those of you who have followed the series from the beginning, and have written to tell me what you thought. And if you have been reading and not written, why not just drop me a short note to tell me how you feel about it all? I'd really like to hear from you at cgalt08@yahoo.ca I'd also like to thank the Nifty Archive for hosting this series and making it available to you. They deserve credit for the service they are providing. A special thank you to "Dabeagle" who has offered space on his website to post HTML versions of this story, along with pictures of the characters! Gotta love that! You can check out his site, not to mention his great series Begin Anew, at http://dabeagle.homestead.com/dabeagle.html Finally, I'd like to say a special thanks to the people who have become friends by writing to me, first about the story, and then about themselves. I treasure each one of you. -Ten- I stood at the door of Josh's house. I'd been standing there for what seemed like an hour already, but it was probably only a minute. Maybe two. How the fuck would I know, anyway? I was standing there practically dripping sweat from every pore. I wiped my palms on my jeans one more time (one more than this and they were gonna be soaked through) and finally got a finger raised to the bell button. And the door opened and Josh was there. "Hi," was all he said. "Hi," I sort of choked back. "Um, how ya doin'?" was his stuttered response. I took a deep breath. "Well, not all that great, actually." "I could tell," he mused, looking me over. "Not that I'm doing so hot myself. I'm really not looking forward to this. Come on in." We went down to his room without meeting anyone else. We went in and closed the rest of the world out. Unfortunately, the rest of the world didn't want to stay out. There was no way we could keep the thought of what was coming out of our minds. We stood there, several feet apart, which was quite unusual for us when we were alone, and just looked at each other. My mouth opened, then shut again. A moment later, Josh's did the same thing. We were a couple of basket cases. I couldn't take it any more. I blurted out, "Josh, I'm... I'm not going to lose you, am I?" In one blurred motion he was grabbing me into his arms and crushing me against him. "Oh baby, no WAY! I'm never going to let you go!" "Well," I gasped, "you'd better unless you want me asphyxiated. Ooof!" I gasped as he released me. "Of course, maybe that was how you intended to never let me go. I might look pretty good stuffed and mounted over the fireplace." "Asshole!" The tension was broken, and we were both giggling. "Now I'll have something to think about when I'm bored... just what pose I should put you in. Of course, it might be even more enjoyable just to think about how I'll mount you." He kind of leaned on the word 'mount', and leered suggestively at me. "Oh yeah? Well, get stuffed!" I shot back, grinning hugely at my play on words. Josh spluttered with renewed laughter. We both subsided into occasional giggles, not saying anything more. Josh came back over to me and took me gently into his arms and I wrapped mine around him. Our lips came together automatically, but we merely nuzzled each other with little angel kisses. I guess we both knew there was no point in starting something that would get us all worked up. At that point, we probably didn't even have the courage to go any further. "I'll never let you go, David. I don't care what he says, what it might mean, I'm not letting go of the best thing that's ever happened to me. Out of the question. Not possible. No way." Each phrase was punctuated with a light kiss. I rubbed my hands up and down his back. He had on a silk shirt and it felt absolutely like wow! "Man," I breathed. "I'm counting on us staying together. We're gonna do this, Josh. With your mom's help and everything, I don't see how we can lose. Your dad is just going to have to accept us." "Davy, I wish I could think that. But dad's been so... so different these last couple of years. I don't know if anything can bring him back to the way it used to be." He was starting to get really upset. I slowed my hands and pressed harder, holding him tighter against me. "Look, Josh, I've got to believe that it's gonna be OK, and so do you. There's no point getting yourself all worked up about what might be. Whatever it is, you and I are gonna be there together." And at that moment, there came a soft knock at the door. We sprang apart, almost guiltily. Shit, this was even worse than I thought. All those soothing words were for nothing. The moment of truth was upon us. Josh opened the door and his mother stepped through. She wrapped her arms around him and held him for a moment. Then she let him go, came over to me, and did exactly the same. She released me and said, "He's in the library waiting for us. Well, for Josh and me. I haven't told him you'd be coming, David. He'll probably be upset by that, but I couldn't think of any way to let him know about it without getting into the whole discussion through explaining why you should be. Can you stand up to that?" I thought for a moment, then reached out and took Josh's hand. It was the first time I'd ever shown his mother the reality of our relationship. I grabbed Josh's hand firmly and held it, using it to pull him close to my side. He'd shot me a startled look at the first touch, but then he went along with it, just as though he was drawing some strength from me. "Mrs. Barrett, I'm not letting go of Josh. Not for his father, not for anything." She looked from the one of us to the other, seeming to assess what she saw. "I think we're ready, then," was all she said, and she led the way out of the room along to the library. It was Mr. Barrett's room. There was absolutely no doubt of it. Everything there was his, all the trophies of his life and work. He sat behind his desk, and approaching him was like approaching a Supreme Court justice, a high priest, a president. I was starting to feel myself unraveling already. Josh's mom led the way, Josh following, and me last. I was hanging back as far as I dared, not wanting to get too close to danger, but yet not wanting to look as though I was as scared as I felt. "Marion, I'm rather surprised to see a person from outside the family at what is supposed to be a family meeting. Would you explain this?" Stuffy as all get out. I didn't feel good about this at all. Josh's mom was equally stuffy in her reply. "Gerald, David is present because he is a part of what needs to be said today." Great. The battle lines were drawn. Who was going to fire the first salvo? It didn't take long to find out. Mrs. Barrett hardly paused to draw breath after explaining why I was here. "Gerald, Josh came to talk to me earlier today. He was very upset. He had just finished speaking to you. Actually, the problem was that he hadn't finished, but he didn't feel able to stay and reach a conclusion with you. That's why we're here now." Mr. Barrett turned to Josh. "And why didn't you feel able to do that, Joshua?" Uh oh. Red-flag- in-front-of-bull move. Calling him 'Joshua' again wasn't the best way to maintain civilized dialog with his son. I have to give Josh credit, though. During his mother's words, I'd slowly moved up to a place quite near him, but not right beside him. Even so, I felt him clench, I saw his hands ball themselves into fists, but he hung on. His first words did sound as though he was saying them through gritted teeth, but he did manage to keep his cool. "Dad," he said, stumbling only mildly through his first words, "I wanted... you made me... Look, we were talking about Debbie and the party. I told you what happened, I told you how much it disgusted me. And all you did was laugh it off. You actually asked me what was wrong with that." >From where I was standing, I could watch all three of the participants in this performance. Maybe it sounds a little pretentious to call it that, but I really think everyone in here, myself included, was playing a role at this point. As long as this didn't turn from drama to tragedy... I saw Mr. Barrett take a quick look at his wife's face when Josh quoted him, and then I saw him catch himself doing it. Was it my imagination, or was he starting to look a little defensive? Mrs. Barrett kept her expression very neutral. I think she was trying to give Josh all the room he needed, to let him try to do what needed to be done without her having to do it for him. Josh's mom was one smart lady. "Joshua, I..." Mr. Barrett began. "Dad, stop calling me that!" Josh broke in. His voice went up sharply and cracked. "Well, what's wrong with it? It is your name, after all." "It's one of my names. It's the one you use every time you want to tell me how disappointed you are in me, how much I've let you down, how much I've strayed from the path you want me to follow..." Josh was starting to lose it. I could feel him trembling, even though I wasn't close beside him at all. I could see his mom actually stop herself from moving toward him. She was still determined to let him carry the ball as far as he could. Of course, I was as wound up as anybody and my jaws were actually aching from the effort of keeping my mouth shut. Josh had to do this for himself. And I wasn't exactly welcome here as far as his dad was concerned. I checked Mr. Barrett's reaction. He was looking disconcerted. The veneer had definitely cracked. Josh had stumbled into silence, panting slightly from the force which he had used in painting the picture of his father's disapproval. There was silence in the room for a long moment. Then Josh's dad said, "Disappointment? Straying? Josh, you haven't disappointed me! What on earth has put that idea into your head?" Josh didn't lose any time answering. "Every time you've told me how to behave, how important it was to have the right friends, wear the right clothes, do the right things, get the right girlfriend..." Josh leaned heavily on that last one and paused. Then his voice dropped. "Dad, we used to be real pals. We used to have fun together. We always had real good times. And I can't even remember anymore when the last time was anything good happened between us. It's like I stopped being someone you could enjoy being with." His father's mouth opened, but nothing came out. He looked at Josh's mother... for support? He said, "Marion?" Just that. She said nothing. She just looked at him, then looked over at Josh. It was like she was prompting him. She didn't say anything, she didn't give any kind of signal. She just looked at him. "Dad, that conversation we had about Debbie... I just wanted you to know... I have to tell you... that really bothered me. What she did to me that night really bothered me. It just plain grossed me out. I don't want to have anything to do with people who can behave like that. If that's your idea of someone 'suitable'..." And Josh put quite a sneer into that last word. "But Josh I really can't understand your attitude!" was his father's reply. "Debbie comes from a very good family! She's..." Josh jumped right in. "The family may be ok," he snapped, "but she leaves a lot to be desired! Look, dad, I'm me! I'm one person! I'm an individual! I'm not some goddamned family tree!" Oops. Bad move. "Joshua, there is absolutely no need to use language like that in the presence of your mother. We are having a civilized discussion here. Or at least, we should be trying to. Your family should be important to you. After all, we've all worked hard to build up the position we have in this community, and we are looked up to as people of importance. What we do counts. The place we hold..." "But dad, that's exactly what I'm talking about! You started that same line on me when I went from elementary to middle school. That's when everything changed! That's when I stopped being good enough for you!" Again, Mr. Barrett looked as though he'd taken a moderately heavy blow to the chin. "Josh, I've never said that!" "You didn't have to! Everything you did say told me that." I shouldn't have moved. But I'd been standing so very still, trying so very hard to make Mr. Barrett forget I was there. I had to shift. He'd been squirming in his chair, trying to find something to say in response to Josh. And then he focused on me when he caught my movement out of the corner of his eye. "Well, David. You've been hearing quite a bit of our family strife. You're here for reasons that I have not yet been made aware of. What do you think of what Josh is saying?" I can't begin to describe the patronizing, very nearly offensive tone which he used in saying that to me. I actually had to start talking to myself to keep my cool. I told myself over and over that too much hinged on this for me just to let fly with something. This was no time to stand on my dignity. Josh's dad had to be made to see what he was doing to his son. "Mr. Barrett, this isn't the first time I've heard this. Josh has already told me how he feels." Then I bit down on my tongue when I felt the urge to tell Mr. Barrett what he should do about it. "So what do you think I should do about it?" Well, he asked me, didn't he? But I didn't answer right away. I had to do this right, and I had only one shot. I looked down at the floor as I thought. My palms were sweating again, and I fought the urge to wipe them on my jeans. I had to be taken seriously, rather than looking like some kid who's been hauled into the principal's office. "I think that maybe you should trust Josh to be your son." Again I bit down to keep from going on and spoiling the effect. Somewhere or other I'd figured out that it's very easy to say too much. It's far more effective to say almost too little and let the other guy come to you for more. It worked here. "Which means...?" Keep him off balance. Go into question mode. "Do you think he doesn't know what his family has done? Is doing?" Josh's mother looked over at me, her face slightly warning. Uh-oh, I was being a little too harsh. Mr. Barrett's eyebrows pulled down. No, he definitely didn't like that one. I had to soften it without giving up too much ground. "Do you believe that Josh would let you down?" Slowly, Mr. Barrett answered, "No. I don't believe that Josh would let me down." "Ok. So what he's saying to you is that he thinks you do believe that because you keep reminding him of what he needs to do. What he's saying to you is that he's capable of living his own life." Mr. Barrett's head lowered to his chest as the chewed that one over. Then he looked back up at me. "For someone who has known Josh for such a short time, you seem to know what my son thinks and feels extremely well. How has this happened?" Oh, man. Here it was. The biggie. How was I going to handle it? And then Josh just took it right out of my hands. Big time. "That's the other part of it, dad. That's what's been making this whole thing even worse for the last little while. David knows so much about me because... because that's how important he is to me. I..." And that was as far as he could go. "That's... how... important... he... is... to... you." His father seemed to be weighing every word. "Would you care to elaborate on just how important that is?" Josh's head sank. So did my heart. For the longest while there was absolute silence. Then his head slowly rose, and he looked directly at his father. In a voice just barely above a whisper, he said, "I love him, dad." A flush rose from Mr. Barrett's neck up into his face. I could see Mrs. Barrett's mouth start to open, but still she held back. The color wasn't a deep, angry red. I didn't know exactly what it meant. There was emotion there, but what sort of emotion it was I couldn't tell. His gaze leveled itself at me, and it was like having the business end of a shotgun pointing at me. I gulped. I actually gulped. "And you, David?" It was like he had to force each word out. I was having to apply some force myself. But there was no way I was going to let Josh down now. I tried very hard. "Sir, I love Josh. I love him... more than I can explain." The slam of Mr. Barrett's hand on his desk rang through the room like a gunshot. The reverberations then drowned in the silence. There was nothing for the longest while. Then, he spoke again. All he said was, "Marion..." It wasn't a question. It wasn't a statement. Was it maybe a cry for help? There wasn't any way to tell. "Gerald," she said, "your son needs you. He needs you to be his father. He needs you to love him, to accept him for who and what he is. Not for what you want him to be. He's crying out to you, Gerry!" Mr. Barrett's gaze swung over toward Josh and me. He looked like the bull in the ring, just before the matador delivers the final blow. There was defiance and pain both in his face, and he looked ready to crumble. I was scared. Very scared. Then, once again, he said, "Marion..." Josh's mom looked over at us. She said, "Boys, why don't you leave us alone for a bit?" We both nodded, turned, and left the room. * * * * * We actually made it back to Josh's room without falling apart. Once inside, Josh collapsed with a heavy thump into the beanbag chair. I dropped to my knees beside him and took his hand between both of mine. "You did it, man," I said softly. His gaze, which had been sort of vacantly directed toward the ceiling, finally regained some focus and swung over to me. "Yeah," he said very slowly. "But what exactly have I done?" I stroked his hand between both of mine, rubbing both the palm and the back of it. "You've made him see you, I think. I mean, really see you for who you are." "I wish I could be sure of that. I wonder what's going on in there now?" "Man, your mom's in there. Did you see what she was doing in there?" "Jeez, David, I was sort of busy trying to keep from disappearing through the floor!" Josh was almost snapping at me. I gripped the hand I held. "Babe! Be cool!" Josh's head fell back and he squeezed his eyes shut. Two big tears came rolling out and drifted down over his cheeks. I let go of his hand and put both mine gently against either side of his head, and as I stroked his hair with my thumbs, I leaned in and softly kissed the tears away. "I'm sorry, my love. I'm not thinking very carefully here." "Oh, Davy!" And his arms were around me doing the python thing again. I loved it, though. I could die happy right now. I let him crush me as much as he wanted and finally felt him relax again. "Oh, God, man, I'm sorry! I'm just so wound up..." "Hey, like I don't know that?" I brushed the hair back up from his forehead. I loved doing that. Josh had beautiful hair, not too coarse, not too fine. Hair you'd want to leave your hands in forever. He didn't gel it, spike it, do any of that stupid stuff. I continued to run my hand through it, softly kneading his scalp at the same time. I love having that done to me... there's something really sensuous about it. "Listen, Josh," I went on, "you were amazing in there. And so was your mom. She gave you the space to do what you had to do. She could have stepped in there any time and taken over for you. But she let you do it. And you did it. In spades. I was scared shitless the whole time." Josh's hand came up, took the wrist of the hand that was brushing through his hair, and ran it up to interlace his fingers with mine. "You were pretty awesome yourself, man. Geez, David, you're going to make a great lawyer or something. You played the old man pretty damn good. And..." He choked slightly. "And you stood right in front of him and told him you loved me." "And you, my love, stood right in front of him and told him you loved me." "David, I do love you. Oh so very much!" he whispered, then gently took my head and brought it down to his. A long, lingering, soft kiss that spoke more intently than any words we could ever say. I rose and lay myself carefully on top of the guy I loved with all my might, never breaking the kiss. I joined to him as though we had been made as mirror images. We fit, absolutely and without question. I have absolutely no idea how much later it was when the soft knock came at the door. Josh and I hadn't separated, that much I know. It was a measure of how we had grown together that I was the one who went and opened the door, leaving him lying in the beanbag. I expected Josh's mom, and that's who it was. "May I come in?" she said very formally. "Of course!" I responded, trying to let her see how much I accepted her. Her gaze went immediately to her son, still lying in the chair. "Is... is he asleep?" she said softly. "No," I replied in the same way. "He's just trying to pull himself back together." "Well, I'm sure you've been helping him." "I've been trying, but I think he needs you." She went over to him, and I stayed back by the door. She knelt beside him and put her hand gently on his shoulder. He came up and was in her arms in a second. She held him almost as though she were holding a newborn, and gently rocked him. They stayed like that for a long while, and when they finally separated, Josh was looking a whole lot better. It looked so good. I'd started to tear up, just thinking about what was happening there. Mrs. Barrett looked over to me and said, "David! Don't hide back there! Come over here with us." I moved over and knelt on the opposite side of the beanbag. Josh's hand came out immediately and took one of mine. Mrs. Barrett said, "I'm very, very proud of how both of you handled yourselves today. It proved that I was right about you all along, Josh. And it showed me as well, David, that you deserve to have my son's love." I felt the red shooting up into my face at that. She laughed, reached across Josh, and ruffled my hair. "That's one nice thing about you, David. We never have to guess at how you feel about something." We all snickered at that. Then Josh brought us all back to earth. "Mom? What about dad?" "Josh, we hit him pretty hard. I don't know if you realized it, but he was about ready to come apart when I suggested you leave." I nodded, but didn't say anything. "Yes, David, I thought you would notice." Josh looked over at me. I sort of shrugged. "Josh, you might as well get used to the fact that David is the noticing kind. Don't ever try to fake him out. He'll almost certainly see right through you. He knows people. Someone your age... I don't know how you learned it." I felt the red again. Fortunately, she went on. "I had to do quite a bit of talking, and I'm afraid that I had to rough up the poor old dear a little bit more. The first thing was to get him down out of the family tree..." We all laughed a bit at that. "... and then, of course, he was trying to make sense of what Josh had told him about loving you, David. The most interesting thing about that was," and she shook her head, obviously still in shock at the idea, "the thing that really shook me, was that the strongest reaction he had to that was... jealousy!" "Huh?" exclaimed Josh. "What?" I said, right on top of him. "Just about the way I reacted too, when I'd finally figured it out. I mean, he didn't just come right out and say that. I think if I'd even told him that's what he was feeling, he'd have rejected the notion completely. But I'm pretty sure that's what it is. He's upset that his son would go to someone else completely for sharing his greatest fears, that he'd look to someone else for comfort. It's as though the idea of loving another man was a secondary thing." "Hmmm," I said, almost to myself, "I wonder if there's something behind that..." Josh's mom looked over at me with a knowing glance. Josh just gazed at both of us. "What are you guys talking about?" That brought me back to myself. "Oh. Sorry!" Red again. "I just started thinking out loud. Nothing important." Mrs. Barrett didn't leave any room for further inquiry. "Anyway, whatever it was, it gave me the opening I needed. He does really understand how he's been making himself look to you, Josh. He's very sorry for it. As for the other..." Josh said, with some bitterness, "The 'other' being having a gay son..." "Josh," his mother said, and quite sharply, "never mind the labels. You're his son. You're my son. That's all that counts. He, and I, both have to know you for who you are. Right now, you've got a new and very important person in your life. We both have to adjust to that. Your father may find it difficult. But what he does know, and acknowledges, is that he loves you as his son. He's made mistakes with you, and he wants your forgiveness and your love. I don't know how the rest of it will work out, but I think it's a good start." There was a moment's silence as we digested that. Then I said, "Mrs. Barrett, I want to thank you for all you've done for Josh, and for accepting me the way you have. If anyone deserves to be jealous..." "Just never mind that, young man. I've told you before... you've made my son very happy. You've brought him out of something I couldn't even begin to figure out. You deserve to be where you are now." With that, she got to her feet and moved to the door. "Things are a little topsy-turvy still, but if you need something to eat, you know where the food is." Josh gave his mother a big smile, got up out of the beanbag, and hugged her hard. "Thanks, mom. Thanks for everything. You've been... absolutely fabulous." His mother just smiled, patted his cheek, and headed for the door. Josh walked over with her, and closed the door behind her. Then, he walked slowly back toward me. He stopped about two feet away. We just looked at each other. I really think that, all of a sudden, we just didn't know what to do. We stood there like two lumps looking at each other. Josh had seemed thoughtful as he'd come back toward me, but now his face was completely neutral, devoid of any emotion. That's when I started to shake. I don't know, I guess with the sudden relief from the pressures of the day, from Debbie, from Stu and Will, from Mr. Barrett... well, from everything, it just all came down on me. I wobbled where I stood and collapsed quickly onto the beanbag. Josh was on his knees beside me in an instant. "David, what is it?" he quavered. I put my hands over my eyes, just trying to get myself back in focus. Josh's arms came around me, and he slowly started rocking me gently back and forth, just as his mother had done to him. "Baby, baby, it's ok," he crooned. I took my hands away from my eyes and wrapped my arms around him. "Oh, Josh, don't let go. Don't ever let go!" And, of course, right on the heels of that plea, my stomach chose to let loose with a reverberating rumble. Josh tried. He really tried. But I could feel him quivering in my arms. And then he was flat on his back on the floor in front of me, howling his head off. He laughed so hard he clutched his stomach, rolled onto his side, and curled into a ball. Of course, my mouth started twitching, and in another moment I was sprawled back in the beanbag, laughing hysterically. Nothing but laughter, snorts, gurgles, howls, and all the other noises of sheer, flat-out, no-holds-barred hilarity was heard in that room for I don't know how long. Finally, we subsided. We had to. We were completely worn out. When we did start to speak again, the conversation was punctuated with giggles, and a couple of times we broke out into short snatches of laughing. Tears were pouring from our eyes. We were wrecks. But it did us good. From the high drama of the afternoon to slapstick comedy. If we hadn't done it, I think we would have been in trouble. Josh was finally able to look me in the face without collapsing. He said, "David, I think we need to get out of here. And I think we really need to e-e-e-eat," and had to break off for another snort of laughter as the word which symbolized the start of our descent to stupidity gave him trouble. "Oh man," I said, wiping my eyes again, "I so think you're right. I don't think I've eaten since..." And I broke off, trying to remember when the last time was I'd had anything solid. "Umm, I can't remember when the last time was." "No wonder your stomach's in trouble! Look, I don't much feel like staying around here. We need a change of scene, don't you think?" "Couldn't agree more. Got anything in mind?" "Well, I think we actually have something to celebrate, don't you? What do you think? Vito's?" "Great!" I thought it was just right. We certainly wouldn't run the risk of seeing anybody we knew there. We'd been so wrapped up in our drama that I'd lost track of time. Night had fallen. I looked at my watch and saw that it was close to 7. "Do you think it might be really busy? Will we be able to get in?" I asked Josh. "Trust me, we'll get in." And I remembered our last trip there and how--what was his name? Oh, yeah, Alberto--how Alberto had treated Josh and me. Well, treated Josh. This boy had pull. We grabbed our jackets and headed out. We met no one on the way and climbed into the Trans Am. As soon as we started moving, my hand was out and over Josh's on the gear shift. He looked over at me and smiled broadly. The restaurant was certainly crowded, but Alberto was there to greet us and at Josh's inquiry assured him that there would be no problem. "In fact," he said, looking at us in a very thoughtful way, "your usual table is occupied. But I think I have something that would suit you much more this evening." There was a subtle emphasis on the words 'this evening' which made me wonder just what he saw when he looked at us. He led us down toward the back of the long dining room. Off to one side, away from the main floor, there was a small alcove. The only light in it came from a small lamp on the table itself. The table was laid for four, but it fit us comfortably. "I think you'll find this acceptable," he said to Josh. "Alberto, it's perfect! Thanks! It's just what we need." We sat down. Alberto left us with menus and cruised smoothly away. Not long after he returned and quietly deposited two glasses of wine in front of us, as he had done before. We were in a busy restaurant, but we felt quite alone. And with that, we were actually tongue- tied! The conversation was hesitant, almost forced. It was as though we couldn't find any answers for the essential "what now?" of our situation. Food loosened our tongues. The conversation ranged naturally over the ground that most teens could relate to. We forgot about 'us' for the whole of the meal and just talked like two good friends, exchanging facts, ideas, opinions, even disagreeing over things. Trivial things, nothing serious. It was like we were getting to know each other again as... well, as ordinary people. For once we didn't rush. I think it was the atmosphere of the place. Vito's isn't exactly an in- and-out kind of place. The décor, the service, everything seemed designed to slow you down, to make you relax and enjoy yourself and your company. Which is exactly what we did. I looked at my watch as we walked up front. Holy shit! Almost 9:30! We had been taking it easy, no doubt of it. Josh slipped his credit card out of his wallet, then caught my look of distress. "Don't sweat it, David. I'll be making you pay for me sometime soon." And he smiled. And that smile was... heaven. It was for me alone. It wasn't meant for other people to see, and it was obvious that Josh didn't even care if other people did see it. He was so high on happy he was oblivious. We walked out after assuring Alfredo that everything had been perfect. Josh paused by the car door and looked up. "Wow!" he breathed. "David! Check out that moon!" I looked up and drew a startled breath. In the city, most anything to do with the sky at night is pretty muted. But tonight, for some reason, the moon shone down with a luminosity that I wasn't used to seeing. I stood there in awe. I even think my mouth was hanging open. "Come on!" Josh's excited voice broke in on me. He hustled into the car, and I climbed into the passenger seat. It didn't take too long for me to realize where we were going. The park was utterly deserted. Josh drove slowly, keeping his headlights on low beam, but heading unerringly for our spot. The car drew up and stopped. Josh quickly killed the motor. "Come on!" he said again and hopped out. Out here, away from the most intense of the city's lights, the moon was even grander than at the restaurant. It seemed almost twice as large as normal, and some of its features were even showing, something I hardly ever get to see. Josh's hand was in mine as we walked toward that same tree, and we moved into the same position as before, Josh against the trunk and me in his arms. Tonight, though, it was different. It was like the moon. Not the way it usually was. Much, much more intense. The fact that it was quite cool and we were wearing heavy jackets seemed not to register at all. I felt Josh with every fiber of my being. I molded into him to the point where I thought I was inside him. And I was left in no doubt as to what he was experiencing. His manhood pressed into me as though there were nothing between it and my skin. Instead of just leaving his arms around my chest, one of Josh's hands traveled down my front as though he'd done it many times before, and gripped my stiff pole. He rubbed firmly up and down its length, making me pant. Our heads were together, his stubbled cheek scratching against my smoother one in short strokes. I strained back even harder. God, I wanted him. I wanted him everywhere I had nerve endings. I wanted every square inch of him to touch me. I wanted to disappear inside him. He moved his head down and my head went back against his shoulder. His lips closed over my neck, and I felt the scrape of his teeth. He... well, it wasn't a groan, and it wasn't a growl, but some kind of sound surged out of him. And he started to kiss, then suck, my skin. It was soft, then hard, then intense, then fierce. I noticed my own breathing then. I was gasping. I was moaning. His hand had stilled on my cock. He was focused on his lips against my neck. "Oh Josh!" I breathed. "Oh God!" He released me. I whipped around and found his mouth with mine. The kiss was as fierce as his assault on my neck. Tongues stabbed, teeth nipped, skin scraped against skin. I broke off, looked at his eyes gleaming toward me in the moonlight. "It's now, Josh. It's now. Take us home. Please." I was panting. So was he. He swallowed hard and nodded, saying nothing. He took my hand again and we almost ran to the car. Once inside, we said nothing, both looking straight ahead. I didn't even touch him. We were out of the park and on the road. Josh was wasting no time. The house, when we arrived, was dimly lit. There was no sign of anyone. We heard nothing. We moved quietly to Josh's room, went in. He locked the door. The jackets we just dropped on the floor. Then, Josh took my hand and led me to his bedroom, a room which so far I hadn't been in. It was spacious. I felt that rather than saw it. I wasn't seeing much of anything. Except for the bed. It seemed to be the focal point of the room, but that was probably because, right then, it was the focal point of my mind. I wanted him so badly. I wanted to show him so much. So much love, my chest felt constricted. I couldn't breathe right, I couldn't think straight, my hands were shaking. I looked at Josh. He didn't seem to be in any better shape. In fact, he was shaking worse than I was. His trembling hands came up and began fumbling with the buttons on my shirt. I reached out and tried to undo his. If anyone had been watching this, it would probably have looked totally ludicrous, but we were so worked up we could see nothing but the immediate problem of getting the clothes off our partner. It wasn't done sensuously, or to a rhythm, or anything else with a purpose. It was just done. We stood naked before each other, our spears pointed at each other, ready for battle. Except it wasn't a battle. It was complete surrender on both sides. The spears came together, kissed, smeared each other with their lube. We came together after them, mouths, chests, arms. Who led who to the bed I couldn't tell you. But suddenly we were on it, Josh under me, my mouth sucking his with something almost approaching fury. Our hips strained against each other, Josh's bucking up sharply against mine, mine savagely ramming his back down. Cock rubbed cock, liquid heat building up to ignition point. Then a double gasp and waves of hot juice spilling between us. Shorter, even more intense thrusts, louder gasps, then... quiet collapse. I rolled gently to one side, Josh coming over onto his with me. I forced my eyes open to find his staring at me in wonder, finally taking in what had just happened. I saw the sweaty sheen of his beautiful chest, and put my palm over his heart to feel it thudding quickly, strongly. I moved my hand, pressing firmly, feeling the cool moistness of his skin. Josh's hand roamed along my arm, up onto my shoulder, back behind my head, pulling my mouth to his. A shared shower, a wet worshipping of bodies, no sex. Then back into bed, under the covers this time. Whispers in the subdued light of the bedside lamps. Soft caresses. Time passing, hands moving, exploring, learning. Caresses becoming stronger, more intense. The passion building. Hands demanding. Josh's hand between my legs, under my balls. My legs opening, hips lifting, urging him without words. His fingers softening their strokes, almost hesitating as he moves back, and touches... "Josh." I breathe the name rather than say it. "Josh, my love," I say more strongly. "Please. I want you in me. I want you to love me." His eyes question. "But I do love you, David. You know that. Utterly. Completely." "Yes, I know. But I want you to come into me with your love. I want to feel it completely." He looks as though he's having a hard time understanding it. He moves, slowly, finds what he needs. I wait, hardly daring to breathe. He returns between my legs, the covers thrown completely back now. Both bed and us, stripped, exposed. His hand moves down, my legs open, my hips lift. His finger stroking, probing, then... in. I'm invaded, and I moan my acceptance. His finger gains more confidence, moves fully into me. Time passes, his finger works, then is joined by another, pushing firmly into me. I'm losing myself in the bliss, but I want more. I have to work my mouth around to get enough moisture into to it to speak. "Oh, Josh. Now. Please, now!" Fingers leave. Emptiness. So much emptiness. "Oh please!" is all I can say. His hands against the backs of my thighs. No force now. Extreme gentleness. I pull up and out. I'm his. I have nothing to hide, nothing to protect. There is a pause. I look up at him, waiting there. He's utterly beautiful, every inch a man's body. Skin shining, muscles taut, his weapon at the ready. And his face, with two large tears rolling down his cheeks. "Josh!" I feel I have to call to him because I'm not sure where he is. "Josh! I love you. I want to feel your love for me. I'm yours. I want to give you all I have. I want you to give me all you have. Please, Josh!" A deep breath. His chest heaves up, swelling those beautiful pecs even more impressively. He looks down at me, and then smiles a gentle smile. His knees move in. He presses me up. I feel him then, pressing very gently. I push out. I want so desperately to open for him, but it's not easy to do. He pushes more firmly, and I feel the solid girth of him stretching my muscles. I breathe deeply and he stops, concerned. I smile at him, and get my hands on his ass cheeks, pulling him. He resists the pull, but moves ahead anyway, gently but firmly. His rigid length glides slowly into me. My eyes widen. I know I've felt this before, but it was nothing like this at all. Not at all. It's like... like discovering another dimension. He stops. I feel his balls against me and know that we're complete. He's gazing down at me with a look of absolute wonder. And he's crying again. I pull myself up to kiss away the tears. I whisper in his ear, "My love, I'm yours. You're mine. Thank you. Thank you." I lower back, and he pulls away, then pushes forward again. "Yes!" I breathe, and push against him during his push forward. Another deep breath, a pause, and then another retreat and a newer, stronger thrust. "Yes!" This time, not as a breath but as a full-voiced cry of triumph. Retreat, thrust. Stronger still. The look of amazement on Josh's face is astonishing to see. It's the greatest gift I've ever received. I smile back, encouraging him on. My hands are on his ass, pulling him to me. He knows now. He realizes. He stares at me in rapture, almost forgetting to move. Almost. I remind him. And then there is ecstasy.