"And The Angels Sing" Part 2

By Jeffy


All of the usual disclaimers apply. This story is entirely fictional. No house pets, rain forests or lab animals were harmed in the writing of this story. It is intended for adults only. You can send comments or constructive criticism to Jeffs71@Hotmail.com. Flames will be ignored so don't bother. This story has been copyrighted by the author. You may, of course, download it for your enjoyment, send it to your friends, even use it on your website as long as access to the site is free, it is not changed in any way and I'm credited as the author.

This story depicts minors and adults having unprotected, unsafe sex. Obviously, this is not real life and should be taken as such. Otherwise, enjoy!


"And The Angels Sing" -- By Benny Goodman and his Orchestra, Vocals by Martha Tilton


Chapter 2

We touch, and the angels sing...

"Boys! Breakfast, now!"

Shit, did parents have some sort of built in radar to tell them the most awkward moment to interrupt? We ran downstairs laughing, and ate a huge breakfast.

"What're those?" I asked suspiciously, pointing at a bowl full of something white.

"You Yankee, those are grits! Try them, they're good!" Ricky smiled at me, melting my heart, so I tried some.

"These aren't made out of pig parts, like lips and assholes, are they?' I asked just before tasting them. Ricky's mom broke up, putting a napkin in front of her mouth, and his father managed to squirt most of his mouthful of coffee out of his nose. Go figure! I'll always remember that morning as the day I learned to eat grits.

After breakfast, we went to mess around at my house.

"Listen, Colt, I do like you, but I want to be, well, like, um, real boyfriends." Ricky's look was totally serious as well as laser-beam intense.

"Real? Like, how dude?" We wanted each other, how much more real could it get?

"I don't know about all this being gay stuff. My dad would kill me! I mean he literally would!"

"Nah, he's your dad. He wouldn't." I could see being his upset, but not that.

"Well, anyway, I don't just wanna jump into bed just like that." He gave me those big puppy dog eyes and I melted on the spot.

He continued, "I wanna be, like boyfriends, you know, hold hands and stuff, go to the movies, stuff like that."

He was a romantic at heart! As much as I wanted to jump into the nearest bed and send my boyfriend into orbit, I couldn't deny him anything. I agreed.

More to the point, I was in heaven! I had a boyfriend! He's smart, sexy, gorgeous, and he likes me! I wanted to shout it to the world, to tell everyone, but I knew I couldn't.

We hung out together almost constantly after that, both trying to feel our way through this relationship thing. To my surprise, it was easy to figure out when we were in "buddy" mode versus "date" mode. When we went somewhere, to the movies or whatever, and one of us paid for the other, we were in "date" mode, and if we both paid for ourselves we were in "buddy" mode. It was so simple and obvious that we just sort of did it without thinking about it.

Speaking of the going to the movies, that was one of our favorite activities because we could hold hands in the theater, and if we were discreet about it, nobody even knew. We'd just talk, like normal kids, until the lights went out, then we'd hold hands under the large tub of popcorn that we always bought (for a skinny kid, man could he ever eat!). We started out just, you know, holding each other's hand, then progressed to having our fingers intertwined with each other. I'd love it when, sometime during the movie I'd look over and see Ricky smiling his most secret smile at me as we held hands. Ricky also had this thing that he'd do with his thumb, rubbing it in a circular motion over my hand and thumb that would drive me totally wild.

After the movie, we'd usually go back to one of our houses and mess around on the Internet, or play basketball. I was getting better at covering him, he only made me look dumb about half the time now. Ricky also hardly ever wore a shirt, and the sight of his slim muscles and browner-than-brown upper body filled my dreams. I was beating off about 3 or 4 times a day (like, every day, too) and still getting no relief. At night, I'd lay in bed with my shorts around my ankles, slowly rubbing my fingertips all over my hard dick, from base to glans, then around the head, then down the back while I imagined that Ricky was touching and exploring my cock. I even began jerking off with my left hand (I'm a strict righty) so that it would feel more like his hand instead of mine.

Now, I don't want you to think that I'm some sort of saint or something. I wanted to basically lick Ricky's skin until my tongue wore down to a nub! At the same time, I knew what a hard time he was having because of his background and religion. He came from a really old-fashioned family back in NC, and they really believed that homosexuality is an evil sin. I, on the other hand, had gotten past that; the way I felt about him could never be described as evil!

Even though we'd only known each other about a month, it felt like we'd been best buds forever. Sometimes, I wouldn't even have to crack the joke, Ricky would look over at me and know what I was thinking, then we'd both crack ourselves up. It did help that our parents also got along well, especially our moms. They seemed like old friends already. The dads were easy, Ricky just got his dad talking about golf and my dad jumped right in. Both fanatical golfers, they played every weekend, even in the rain! Adults are nuts! Why go out in the rain to get totally soaked and beat a little white ball around?

Anyway, Ricky and I really got to know each other well during this time. He had a wonderful, sweet nature. There wasn't a mean bone in his, beautiful, slim, smooth...oops, sorry, got carried away there! He puts me to shame as a chocoholic, was pure death on any fighting computer games (even though I was way better on the flying ones), and had almost infinite patience with my little brother who, in my experience, could drive a stone to drink. About the only fault that I could find was the fact that he tended to think about things too much, to brood if I left him alone too much. I told him that one rainy afternoon in my room.

"Yknow, you think too much. Sometimes ya just gotta go with your feelings and trust yourself." I told him as I trailed my fingers down his strong, smooth back. Giving each other back rubs had become a major pastime, since I'd agreed to take things slow.

"Ummmm!" Came the reply from the depths of the pillow that Ricky had his face buried in.

"Seriously, you don't possibly think what we have is wrong? No way, it feels too good, and I care about you too much."

He turned over to face me. "But the Bible..."

"Well, I don't believe it literally, not really. And I refuse to believe that God could be this cruel, to make us this way and then say we're sinners."

"I know, but still, it's the way I was raised. It's kinda hard to go against that." He turned over again and I heard his voice say, softly, "but I'm trying." I stroked his back for a long time after that, not saying anything.

One day, after seeing a really forgettable movie, things came to a head. After the movie ended, I knew I just had to tell him how I felt (namely, that I loved him). We got to my house (nobody home, not even my little brother Adam), and I took him into my arms. He felt so right, so good, my head swam! I leaned down and kissed him on those soft, warm lips. He slowly opened his mouth and let my tongue in; I explored his sweet tasting mouth with my tongue, his lips, teeth, and finally his tongue until I thought I'd pass out from lack of air. When we broke, he looked horny, excited, and terrified at what we'd just done. I decided not to press him, much as the little head was screaming at me, so we went in from the heat to watch some TV. We just sat there for a long time, until I put my arm around him and held his hand. In that moment I felt so close to him that I just turned my head and kissed him on the cheek. This was heaven as far as I was concerned. I breathed into his ear, softly.

"I love you."

Ricky gave me a shocked look, like he couldn't believe I'd actually said it.

"Ahem!"

Oh, shit! My Mom was standing behind us with an amused expression on her face. I handled it with my usual suave style. I stood up and stuttered out something (to this day I can't remember what I said. Smooth, huh?) while Ricky just stood there and hyperventilated.

I stood there, not knowing what to say, when my Mom reached for me, causing me to flinch violently. What was she gonna do? Hit me? Tell me she doesn't love me anymore since I'm a homo? Well, let me tell you, she sure surprised me when she just hugged me. Then she started to laugh! That's right, I was scared to the point of pissing on myself and she just laughed at me! I didn't know whether to be relieved or insulted. She murmured in my ear, "Oh, honey, don't be afraid!" Then she stepped back and looked at both of us.

"You're not upset?" I could hear the quiver in my voice as I asked.

"Well, if you wanted to surprise me you should've found a better hiding place for your magazines. Really, under the mattress is very unimaginative!" Oh, shit, I'd had a couple of gay mags for years. When had she found them? How long had she known?

"We need to talk, boys." Just as my Mom said this, Ricky collapsed. I mean he just went limp, right there on the floor, curled up in a ball. Scared the living hell out of both Mom and me. It took us a good five minutes to get him back into this world, and even then he was scared shitless. I don't mind telling you that I was still worried about him.

We all sat on the couch, my arms wrapped around my boy.

"Boys, you need to be more careful. What if your Dad had walked in on the two of you?"

"But, Mom, we weren't..."

She just gave me `The Look', silencing me. I should have known I couldn't hide anything from her.

"Now, don't worry, I'll work on your Father, and in time he'll accept you both. Ricky, how will your folks react?" She was taking all of this remarkably calmly. I felt like I'd entered a badly scripted episode of `The Twilight Zone'. I later found out that the feeling of unreality is when you're scared out of your wits.

"I have no idea. I don't even know how I can accept it. I'm a fag! A dirty little fag!" With that he broke down, hysterically crying on my shoulder. It took another ten minutes before he was able to talk, and even then he had a runny nose and the hiccups. He even looked gorgeous like that!

"Now, try to stay calm. Ricky, do you care for Colt? I mean really, deep down. Do you?" He nodded, a dopey smile coming to his lips.

"How about you, Colt?" She gave me her most serious look. I returned it, straight into her eyes.

"I'd donate an organ for him, even if it's something I've only got one of." OK, so it's not the most romantic thing I've ever said, but it did sum up how I felt.

My Mom just nodded, as if confirming something to herself. "OK, then, just try to be a little discreet, until we can bring your Dad and Ricky's folks on board.

"Then, you're on our side?" I couldn't believe she was so calm about it.

She took me by the shoulders, gently. "Always, son of mine, always. I'm not blind, and I could see what was growing between you two. You're my son, and I love you. Everything else is negotiable. And Ricky, I hope you'll think of me as your second mom." We both rushed to hug her, tears in our eyes.

"Whoa, boys, don't crush me. Now go, have fun, but above all be safe. Why don't you go find some trouble to get into?"

We did, but not too much. I could see Ricky was still troubled, but I knew not to push him. We spent the day together, but it was just too hot to do much of anything outside. Ricky laughed and told me I'd never survive a North Carolina summer being so delicate. We play wrestled a bit, and Ricky mercifully didn't get me in any Judo holds.

Ricky was a real basket the next day, breaking down and starting to cry during a movie we rented. I was seriously worried about him now. I'd long since accepted the way I was, but what if he couldn't? Late that night he called me, sounding very calm. He said not to worry, it would all be OK now. If anything, that scared me even more, and I had no idea what to do. I spent a sleepless night with my brain running in circles. I didn't even play with myself all day, which should tell you just how upset I was. I STILL didn't have a clue as to what, if anything, to do. I couldn't tell his folks, I'd promised him not to.

The day after that he didn't make it to choir practice, and I was frantic. I had the worst feeling that something was wrong, like a horrible itch I couldn't scratch. I tried calling, and then going over there, but his mom told me he wasn't feeling well and really wasn't up to having any visitors. The feeling got worse and worse as the day went on, and by dinnertime I was a complete wreck. But what could I do? What should I do? I finally decided on a course of action, which should have made me feel better, but it didn't.

"Dad, could we talk?" He was in his study after dinner.

"Sure son. Come on in, close the door.

"Dad, I'm really worried about Ricky. He isn't acting like himself, and I'm afraid for him. Could you call his folks?

He gave me a serious look. "Son, I don't want to alarm them over nothing. Unless you can give me a better reason..." He trailed off, looking at me closely. I now knew just what a rabbit feels like under a hawk's gaze.

I could feel my face getting red. He had to call them he just had to! But what could I tell him that wasn't a lie? I sat for a few seconds, the pressure inside me building, until I was surprised that the top of my head didn't fly off.

"We're both gay and we love each other! He's having a really hard time with it, OK, there, are you fuckin' satisfied?!?" Oh shit, did I just say the f-word to my father? I was dead!

To my shock, he just sat there and digested that piece of news. Had my Mom found time to talk to him yet? Then he just gave me a funny look, you know, like he couldn't believe his ears.

"Son, everyone goes through phases, especially kids. It might be..."

He just didn't get it! I knew, just knew mind you, what it feels like to have someone try to drive you crazy.

"Dad, we're in love. What age did you and Mom first realize you were in love?"

"Well, I was 12 and she was 11, and she went around telling everyone she was going to marry me some day." He smiled in memory. "I didn't believe it at the time."

"Right, Dad. So, it's, like, the same with Ricky and me. I know it's hard to deal with, but..."

He waved my point down. "Son, it's just that I have no idea how to deal with it. None at all. But I just want to know one thing: is this real between you two?"

"Yes, Dad, real as real gets." I was trembling now.

"Well then." He enfolded me in a strong, warm hug. "There now, I didn't have a heart attack, and I don't seem to have killed you on the spot. I don't pretend to understand, but that's irrelevant." This came out a bit gruffly, as if he was choked up.

"Would you please call Ricky's parents and check on him. Something's wrong, I just know it. He wasn't at choir practice today, and he missed our basketball game. Please call them, please!"

Dad could see the worry in my face, so he picked up the phone and quickly dialed. I listened to his side of the conversation.

"Rob? Bill here, just fine, thanks. Listen, I don't want to bother you, but Colt is concerned about Ricky. Yes, I know he wasn't feeling well earlier, but could you please go check on him for me? Humor me, OK? Thanks." He smiled at me as the feeling of dread grew and grew.

"WHAT! OK, here's what you'll do, calm down! Grab Ricky, sling him into the car, then drive like a bat outta Hell. And don't forget the bottle! We'll meet you there. No, don't bother with 911, just get him here!" He hung up the phone without saying goodbye.

I stood there shaking, as Dad sat down and put his head in his hands, saying only. "My God, my God!" I wanted to scream! NO! IT CAN'T BE!

Dad's strong hands grabbing me by the shoulders brought me back to reality.

"Son, Ricky swallowed a bottle of pills. Grab your shoes, we're meeting them at the hospital." I just stood there, my brain frozen. My dad had to lead me upstairs and put my shoes on me like I was a little kid.

My brain screamed, "NO, IT CAN'T BE!" all the way to the hospital as I stared blankly out the window. That little voice in the back of my brain also told me I'd broken a promise to someone I love.