This story involves sexual situations between teen boys, so if you aren't supposed to be looking at things like this wherever you live, or this makes you squeamish, please leave this story/site now and/or move to a place where things like this are acceptable. Likewise, if you aren't old enough to look at filth like this wherever you happen to be, or if you or are a card-carrying member of the Moral-Minority, shoo, go away. I certainly can't control whether you do or not, but you have been warned.

As always, I would like to thank my good friends, Mike and Dave for being my editors and proof-readers on this story, as well as offering some really helpful assistance along the way. Thanks also go to the Nifty Archive for hosting this and all the other stories. They do take donations to defray operating expenses, so please help them out if you can.

All rights are reserved, do not modify or redistribute this text without my express written consent, or I'll have the old gypsy woman that lives across the lake from me put a curse on you.

Like the other stories I've written, this is set in a magical land where there are no STDs, so you won't be reading about condoms being used except in this disclaimer. This is not meant to imply that I am advocating the practice of unsafe sex, quite the opposite actually - please take precautions and protect yourself, there's a lot of shit out there that can kill you or make you wish you were dead.

Comments and feedback are certainly welcomed at t_macd@comcast.net. I've really enjoyed hearing from everyone who has written, please keep on letting me know what you do and don't like.

Brandon and Alex

Chapter Forty Nine

Alex did wear the plug to the water park when he went with Brandon and his visiting relatives - just as he had that fateful day almost a year before - the day when he and Brandon had graduated into full-fledged anal sex, with Paolo's assistance of course. Brandon and Alex both wore swim suits which were very close to board shorts - the look was nearly identical, but these had swimsuit linings in them, negating the need for underwear. They did have a change of clothes with them in their gym bags along with their towels since they planned to stop somewhere for dinner on the way home after the spending the day relaxing at Splash Island. Alex's aunt, uncle and cousins would be returning to Sicily the next morning.

Alex's cousins were both close to their age - one a year older and the other a year younger. They both had the same dark, Mediterranean features as Alex and the rest of his family - black hair, dark brown eyes and olive colored skin. Both were wearing t-shirts, denim shorts and sandals. It was easy to tell that his cousins were brothers from the very similar facial features and the way their bodies were built. Other than their skin tone, hair and eye color you wouldn't necessarily think they were related to Alex though. While Alex was shorter and developing a wider set of shoulders, his cousins were both very slender, if not quite skinny. They were both also taller than him - even the younger one.

Their names were Mario and Gianni. Both spoke fairly decent English, even if it was heavily accented. This caused Brandon to wonder a bit about how they had learned it. So, of course he asked them about it. Gianni, the elder of the two answered him. "We learn English in our school. It is - how do you say, compulsory?"

This prompted a question and answer session about what school was like in Sicily, compared to what it was like in the United States. Each set of boys thought the others had an easier time, and a small debate began between them. Every so often, the two Italian boys would slip back into Sicilian and speak back and forth very quickly. When they did this, even Alex, who had by now managed to learn a good bit of Italian seemed to get lost as to what they were talking about.

The conversation between the adults was entirely in Italian, and they seemed to be having a fairly spirited discussion, including a lot of animated hand gestures. Brandon commented on this to Alex, but Alex assured his friend that this was completely normal, and they were just talking in the manner that was common amongst Italians.

They arrived at the water park and while the adults set themselves up on the artificial beach to sunbathe, the four boys all headed off for the various attractions designed to draw teens and pre-teens alike. They started with the wave pool, where some sort of machinery generated synthetic surf of two to three feet. They set down their towels on lounge chairs. Gianni and Mario both took off the denim shorts they were wearing to reveal that they had on very tiny, bikini style bathing suits on beneath them. Mario's were a checkered pattern of dark blue and white, while Gianni's were a pale, light green color.

Mario started to push his swim suit off as well, and had it well down onto his thighs before his brother stopped him with a quick burst of Italian, "Mario, basta! Non è possibile ottenere nudo qui! Te l'ho detto prima, sei stupido?" The older brother was apparently letting him know in no uncertain terms that the same rules that applied in Europe were not appropriate where they were now. Mario gave Gianni a sly look and shrugged before he turned the other way and pulled his bathing suit back up. He did not seem to have any sense of urgency as he did. His brother's outburst in Italian caused several heads to turn their direction, and a group of young girls who got a good view of the boy before he pulled his suit back up started to giggle and point in their direction.

Brandon took note that Alex's cousin had no discernable tan line. Despite their family's normally dark complexion, Brandon figured the color of the boy's skin should be at least a little lighter where a bathing suit would have normally covered him - even one as tiny as the one Mario was wearing. He was apparently accustomed to swimming and sunning in the nude. That wasn't all that Brandon noticed - Mario had a cute little bubble-butt, not a pubic hair to be seen and a slender, but long uncircumcised cock - but perhaps this was just an illusion as the boy's foreskin was long, and looked a little shriveled where it passed the tip of the penis it encased. It seemed the group of girls had made the same observation, and kept their attention focused on the group of boys, waiting to see if they would get another show.

Neither Brandon nor Alex noticed that Gianni had taken note of Brandon studying the younger Italian boy's body when he exposed himself.

Once the commotion died down, the boys got boogie boards and played in the water at the wave pool for a while. They finally began to get tired and decided that they needed some rest - after all they had the entire day ahead of them, there was no need to try to over do things and get too wiped out early in the day. The group of girls tagged along wherever the boys would move, not being discrete in the least, apparently hoping it seemed to get another show of some adolescent male flesh. Unfortunately for the girls, now that Mario had been reminded of the rules here, the closest they were going to get was from his older brother.

Gianni's pale green bikini swim suit was tight on him, and left little to the imagination. Once it became wet, there was even less doubt about what was underneath the taut cloth. His penis seemed to be significantly thicker than his brother's. And from the display his choice of swimwear offered, it seemed that his foreskin, while apparent through the material, did not extend nearly as far over the head.

All four boys noticed the girls following them around. While Brandon and Alex were a little embarrassed by this and did nothing to encourage them, Gianni and Mario seemed to crave the attention, and did whatever they could to tease the girls whenever they were able. Both Gianni and Mario also tried to show off as much as possible, seeming to be trying to attract as much attention as they could. Gianni repeatedly pulled out the waistband of his suit to reach his hand in to adjust himself, usually giving a glimpse of the short, curly, black hairs above his penis.

The boys eventually returned to where the adults were lounging to drink some water and soft drinks to help them recharge. While they were there, Alex's mother insisted that they eat, since it was already just past noon. Once they were rested sufficiently after their lunch - to the satisfaction of Alex's mother, who still believed that you needed to wait twenty minutes after you ate before going into the water - they headed off to the water slides, still being trailed by the gaggle of girls.

The herd had thinned a little while the boys were eating lunch with the adults, for the girls, most of them anyway, felt a need to eat too. Word had spread about the boys as the girls socialized while they ate, particularly about the cute young one that had dropped his pants by the wave pool, so the crowd following them grew once more as soon as they had left the adults. When the boys went to line up for the water slide, a long line of giggling young females formed behind them.

Alex's and his cousins' parents had noticed the attention they were being paid by the girls, and were focused more on that than the boys' reaction to it. The two fathers were quite proud that their sons were creating such a reaction from the fairer sex, not realizing that it was Mario flashing the beach that had started the commotion. The mothers were just as proud, and wondered which of the girls following their boys might be good marriage material – something they were always watching for.

On their third trip down the waterslides, Gianni steered them toward the largest and longest. This one ended with an attraction the park referred to as the `toilet bowl' – this was a circular chamber that riders of the slide were deposited into at the end of the ride where they would swirl around the inside, finally dropping through a hole at the bottom into a pool of water about fifteen feet below. Gianni let out a quick burst of Italian, directed at his brother, then both the brothers dropped their mats. Gianni grabbed Brandon's arm while his little brother did the same to Alex. "Come, we go double this time," Gianni explained as he propelled Brandon toward the slide's entrance.

The lifeguard at the top tried to stop the boys from going down two to a mat, but he wasn't quite fast enough, and as he yelled at them to stop, Mario turned and spat back something in very rapid Italian as he joined his cousin to follow his brother and Brandon down the ride.

Brandon sat in front, and Gianni wrapped his arms and legs around him as they started down. This position was imitated by his little brother a moment later when he and Alex went after them.

Gianni's limbs were wrapped tightly around him, and with the close body contact, Brandon couldn't help but become slightly aroused. Gianni's hands crossed Brandon's chest, with his fingers resting on Brandon's nipples. Brandon could almost swear that Gianni was intentionally rubbing and gently pinching at them as they started down the slide. Then suddenly, Gianni's mouth was at his ear. "How long have you been fucking my cousin?" he asked.

Brandon turned his head, and saw the smirk on Gianni's face. There was also a twinkle in his deep brown eyes. When Brandon turned his head, Gianni saw a look of shock and disbelief. Brandon couldn't imagine how Gianni had guessed or figured out that he and Alex were having sex.

Gianni raised his right hand to Brandon's cheek and pushed, turning his head back to face forward. Then Gianni let the hand drop into Brandon's lap, and gave him a good grope. It was obvious right away that Brandon had begun to become aroused. Gianni rested his chin on Brandon's shoulder, and Brandon heard him chuckle softly. "So, you like me too, do you?" Gianni whispered, maintaining his grip on Brandon's penis.

Brandon was shocked. He really didn't know how to react to this. He knew how homophobic Alex's father was, and he didn't know if perhaps this might be some ploy on the part of his family to try to find out more about the relationship he had with Alex, or if the Italian cousin of his boyfriend was making as pass at him. As close as Gianni was pressed against his back, Brandon was able to feel that his penis had started to become aroused as well. It hadn't been apparent when they started down the waterslide, but now it had thickened to the point that Brandon was definitely aware of it pressing into his lower back.

Twenty or thirty feet behind them, a similar encounter was taking place between Mario and Alex, with much the same reaction, although Mario was not making what could certainly be described as sexual advances toward his cousin. Alex was more concerned than Brandon about whether or not this might be his family trying to find out about if something was going on between them. He was able to see his older cousin wrapped around his boyfriend, and guessed that something similar was happening to him as he caught a quick glimpse of the look on Brandon's face when he turned his head to look back for a moment. He hoped Brandon had enough sense not to say anything incriminating. The family that was visiting was after all the same one who his father had threatened to send him to live with not all that long ago - when he had felt Alex was behaving inappropriately.

Of necessity, Gianni and Mario disengaged from Brandon and Alex as they dropped through the hole in the bottom of the `toilet bowl' at the end of the ride to fall into the pool of water below. Brandon adjusted himself as he approached the side of the pool, trying as best he could to disguise the semi-rigidity in his swimming trunks. When he reached the side, he turned and pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the pool, his legs hanging down into the water. Gianni followed along, and stood in the water facing him. "What the hell was that all about?" he asked the grinning Italian.

"I am just curious. How long have you and my cousin been..." and Gianni finished the question by circling the forefinger and thumb on one hand and moving the forefinger of the other back and forth through it. Its meaning was quite apparent.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Brandon shot back defensively as Mario and Alex joined them.

Gianni and Mario made a quick exchange in very rapid Italian. Brandon looked over to Alex, who was now sitting beside him on the side of the pool as if to ask what they were saying. Alex shrugged. His cousins were talking far to fast for him to follow the conversation. Whatever they were saying though, was obviously about them, based on the numerous looks and gestures in their direction during the quick exchange.

The brothers finally turned back to face them. This time Gianni directed his question to his cousin. "So, tell us. How long have you two been..." and he made the gesture with his hands once again.

"I... I don't know what you mean..." Alex stuttered. "We aren't doing anything like that."

"Do not lie," Gianni cautioned. "We were outside last night. We heard you. We know what you were doing."

It was true. Gianni and Mario had been out in the backyard at Alex's house, having a clandestine cigarette when Brandon and Alex had been in the hot tub next door. They had heard everything that happened.

Brandon and Alex became quite silent and each stared into his own lap. They didn't know what to say. They were caught.

"So tell us," Gianni repeated. "How long have you been fucking?"

Alex began to sob quietly. He was sure that life as he knew it had just come to an end. His cousins were going to tell his family everything, he just knew it. His father would disown him, his mother, well; he knew that his mother would follow along with anything his father wanted. And he was going to lose Brandon. In all likelihood he would be packing his things this evening to go to Sicily when his relatives flew home the next day. Alex was quickly losing control of his sobbing, and tears were beginning to roll down his cheeks.

Brandon couldn't stand to see the boy he loved being tortured like this. He needed to put a stop to it, and he needed to comfort his boyfriend. He slid over so he could put his arm around Alex, and pulled him in close. Alex put his head over onto Brandon's shoulder, his eyes closed, but still quietly crying. "Why are you doing this?" Brandon asked the two brothers. "What do you want from us?"

Gianni hadn't anticipated this reaction from his cousin. He stepped forward slowly so that his belly actually touched their knees as he stood in the pool in front of them. He placed one hand on each of Brandon and Alex's thighs. "Please cousin," he said quietly. "We mean you no harm. Please do not cry."

Alex turned his head slightly and opened his eyes to look at his cousin, but did not lift it from Brandon's shoulder. "So what is it that you want from us?" he sniffled out between sobs.

"We just wanted you to tell us the truth cousin. That is all, nothing more."

"Are you alright? Are you hurt at all?" asked a voice from behind Brandon and Alex, a few feet away. All four boys looked toward where the voice had come from. One of the park's lifeguards was approaching at a brisk walk. When he was beside them, he knelt next to Alex, then he repeated more quietly, "Are you injured?"

Alex lifted his head from Brandon's shoulder to look over at the man. "I'm okay," he said.

Brandon explained further, hoping the man would just leave them alone and go away without any more questions, "He's not hurt, just a little shaken up." While this was completely true, it was not for the reason the lifeguard assumed.

"I should think so," the lifeguard went on. "That was a very dangerous stunt you pulled coming down the slide like that. What were you boys thinking anyway?" That question was directed more toward the two brothers, who were still standing in the pool.

Mario and Gianni made a quick exchange in Italian. Brandon wanted to get rid of the lifeguard so they could find out what Gianni and Mario's game was. Thinking quickly, he explained to the lifeguard that the brothers were from Italy and were here visiting their cousin. "They just didn't understand the rules here, it won't happen again."

"Make sure that it doesn't," the man said as he stood and walked away.

Brandon turned back to face the brothers once again after the man had left. There was venom in his eyes as he looked at them. Gianni had backed away slightly while the lifeguard was talking to them, but now he was starting to move forward again. As he did, he brought his arms up as if to place his hands back on Brandon's and Alex's thighs once again. Brandon slapped his hand away as it neared his leg. He didn't want the boy touching him any more.

Alex didn't mimic Brandon's action, but as soon as Gianni's hand made contact with his leg, he flinched noticeably. That caused Gianni to pull his hand back. He had a look on his face that Brandon could have almost sworn looked hurt, which he found quite surprising. Alex turned his head back into Brandon's chest, and hugged him tightly. He was not willing to meet the gaze of either of his cousins, and he needed the comforting that Brandon was trying to provide for him.

Brandon finally broke the silence that had fallen over them after the lifeguard left. "Tell us what you want – we're not playing whatever your game is, so just say it," he spat out.

Gianni looked back at him, confused. Between his grasp of the English language and how quickly Brandon had spoken, Gianni wasn't sure what Brandon was telling them. He looked over at Mario, who answered only with a shrug. Finally Gianni turned back to Brandon and Alex. "We know all about Paolo," he said, speaking slowly and deliberately. "We know he... teach you things." Gianni was looking directly at Alex as he made this announcement, and noticed a tear beginning to roll down his cousin's cheek.

Gianni stepped closer and wiped the tear away. "Do not cry cousin, we mean you no harm. Paolo teach us some of the same things," Gianni confided quietly as he motioned to his younger brother. "Mario and me, we like girls. But sometimes we help each other like Paolo teach us. But we hear you last night... what we hear is more than helping, cousin – it is passion. It is love, so will you tell us?"

Alex was still sobbing quietly. He was still afraid that his parents were going to learn the true nature of his relationship with Brandon, and he knew that if they did, the consequences for him would be severe. He didn't want to lose Brandon – that above all else was his greatest fear.

Brandon's arm was still around Alex, and he felt Brandon's grip tighten slightly, trying to pull him closer if that was possible. Alex was doing the best he could to compose himself. Finally, stifling his sniffles, he asked "Paolo taught you things?"

Gianni nodded, and made a motion with his hands which was meant to simulate oral sex and another as if to indicate intercourse. Brandon and Alex both knew exactly what he meant. They both knew also that Paolo had made visits to Italy with his family on several occasions - and that his cousins' family had attended some of the family reunions in the States, so it was likely that the brothers were telling the truth. He looked directly into his older cousin's eyes and saw no malice there. He knew at once that his cousin was telling them the truth. Alex now found himself wondering more about his cousin Paolo, the things he had done and whom he may have done them with. He decided that he would just take the chance and tell his cousins the truth. This was going to be a huge leap of faith for him that his cousins were telling him the truth. Did he really have nothing to fear from them? He would soon find out.

Looking Gianni directly in the eye, Alex admitted to his true relationship with Brandon. "You're right, Brandon is my boyfriend. We are lovers, and we were in love with each other almost from the day we met." Alex heaved a short sigh of relief now that he had finally admitted his deepest secret to his cousins.

Gianni looked over at his brother and winked. "Ti ho ditto," he said quietly. Then Gianni turned back to Brandon and Alex. "Come, let us enjoy the park more," he said as he extended his hand to them.

- - -

Brandon, Alex, Gianni and Mario enjoyed the rest of the day at Splash Island. It seemed as if a huge weight had been lifted from both Brandon and Alex's shoulders once their secret had come out into the open with Alex's cousins. By the time they finished talking with the two brothers about their experiences with Paolo, they realized that they had a lot more in common than they had originally thought.

Gianni and Mario did prefer girls – but they also understood that Brandon and Alex were in love with each other, and they agreed that they would not do anything which would harm their relationship, for the brothers did not share the rest of Alex's family's views about gay relationships. They had after all admitted to `helping each other' from time to time when there wasn't a girl available as Paolo had taught them, but neither Brandon nor Alex pressed them for details on that. At the end of the day, they parted as friends.

* * *

It was nearly thirty minutes before Steven started to worry about why Carson had not yet come upstairs. He finally went down to look for Carson, but there was no sign of him in the house. He looked out the back door and saw the pizza boxes lying on the ground and that one of the garbage cans had been knocked over. He knew right away that something had to be wrong.

Steven ran back upstairs to his father's room. "Dad, something's happened! You gotta come downstairs now!"

It only took a moment for Trevor Roberts to get out of bed and follow his son back down to the kitchen. He surveyed the scene outside their back door and immediately came to the same conclusion - something here was horribly wrong. He took Steven back into the house, telling him that he was not to go outside again under any circumstances and then Trevor dialed 911.

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?" the operator asked.

"I think I need to report a kidnapping," he stated flatly. When Trevor was finished on the phone with the police operator, he called Barbara Cross to let her know what had happened. Henry Bloomfield answered the phone at her home, so Trevor told him about the kidnapping, and that the police were on the way. Henry told Trevor that he and Barbara would be there as soon as they could.

There were only three marked police cars on the road at that time of the night in their area, but somehow there were soon four in front of the Roberts home, red and blue emergency strobes cutting through the darkness. Moments later, the flashing lights of a detective's sedan added to the show. All the lights and sirens made the area seem almost carnival-like; save for the fact that they represented a calamity of some sort in progress. Neighbors, some who had long since been asleep in bed were coming out onto their front porches in their bathrobes to try to see what was going on.

One of the neighbors told the police about a white van she had seen parked on the street earlier that evening as they canvassed the area looking for any clues as to what may have become of Carson. She wasn't very clear in the description of the van, other than it had been a plain white, dirty cargo van with some damage to the front and a couple stickers on the back. Another neighbor, this one nearly a block away, reported seeing a similar vehicle driving away from the area at a high rate of speed. Nothing they were able to tell the police would allow them to positively identify it though.

Steven was sure immediately who was responsible. "It was those bastards from my mother's so-called church!" he shouted when the police started to question him. "It was the same assholes she sent after me, and now they've taken my boyf... They've taken Carson!" Steven caught and corrected himself at the last second.

Trevor wrapped an arm around his son and pulled him close. "Calm down now son, we don't know that for sure."

"Dad, she tried it once before - it's obvious that she tried it again! This time they just must have grabbed the wrong kid!" Steven was getting a bit frantic.

When Steven blurted out the comment about his boyfriend being taken, things suddenly got very quiet on the block. He had just inadvertently come out to his neighborhood, and brought Carson with him. Trevor hugged his son tightly and tried to calm and comfort him. After a few minutes, his efforts were successful and Steven began to just sob quietly into his chest.

Trevor was still holding Steven in his arms when another detective's police cruiser rolled up, red and blues strobes in the grill flashing. A moment later, Detective Peters was being brought up to speed on what had happened that night by the other officers. As soon as they were finished he approached Trevor and Steven.

It was just then that a commotion arose at the outskirts of what the police had marked off as a crime scene. "Let us through!" they heard a female voice exclaim. "It was my son who was taken!" Barbara and Henry had arrived.

Trevor turned to look, keeping one arm around his son. "That's the boy's mother," he said to the police officers who were next to him. Detective Peters waved to the officers who were standing at the perimeter of the scene to keep the onlookers out, and they raised the yellow crime scene tape to allow Barbara and Henry to step underneath.

"Trevor, what's happened?" she asked as she ran over to them. "What's happened to Carson?"

Trevor held out an arm and brought Barbara into an embrace with him and Steven for a moment. "I'm so sorry," he told her. "I went upstairs while the boys were cleaning up after dinner. Carson was taking out the trash, and it looks like my wife's church tried to grab Steven again, they just got the wrong boy."

"Do you have any idea where they might have taken him?" Henry asked.

Detective Peters interjected, "Um, excuse me... I'm supposed to ask that." Then he turned to look at Trevor. "Do you have any idea where they might have taken him?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," Trevor answered. "I think she left some of their literature behind when she moved out. I'll go look, please come inside."

The group - Trevor, Steven, Barbara and Henry went into the house, trailed by Detective Peters and two uniformed officers. They went into the kitchen where Steven busied himself making a pot of coffee for the group while Trevor hunted through a couple drawers until he found one of the Love Through Action pamphlets.

Just then there was a knock on the door. Trevor handed the pamphlet to Detective Peters and went to see who was there while Steven poured coffee for everyone.

Peters was looking through the brochure when Trevor returned. He came back into the kitchen with a striking looking young blonde man wearing a well tailored suit. He had a badge clipped to his breast pocket, but its appearance was substantially different from any of the other police. "I'm Special Agent Kilgore," he said to introduce himself to the group.

Detective Peters recognized the credentials he was displaying. This young man was with the FBI. His demeanor immediately became cold. "The only address they have in here is for their headquarters, but I doubt that's where they would have taken him. We can use that as a start and see if we can trace anything from there. Where there is real estate, there's a money trail. We'll find him, don't worry," Peters said.

Agent Kilgore eyed the literature Peters was holding. "Actually, if that's who took him, I think I have a pretty good idea where we'll find him." The FBI had taken an interest in the Love Through Action group quite a while before, and had quietly been investigating them and their practices in `deprogramming' homosexual youth of both sexes. They had yet to be able to prosecute them for anything, as they had always had the support of at least one parent or guardian.

Although none of his FBI colleagues were aware of it, Sid Kilgore had a personal interest in bringing this group down – he was gay, and the young lover he had taken during a recent investigation had been one of their `clients' at one point. He had feigned being `cured,' but had run away almost immediately after being returned to his parents. When Sid had found him, Brendan had been supporting himself as a hustler outside a gay bar in Florida. Sid had already tracked down the locations of a few of the `boot camps' they used for their deprogramming, and knew that there was one in the area. He had been horrified to hear of some of their methods, particularly at the onset of a child's stay with them. Sid hoped they would be able to secure the necessary warrants to bring the group down before this young man they had abducted tonight had to endure too much.

Trevor did have his wife's cell number and the number to the home of the family with whom she was staying, so when Sid asked for them, he turned them over immediately. The young FBI agent made a phone call, and within minutes surveillance was being set up on both.

- - -

Carson came to on the cold metal floor in the back of the van as it sped down a bumpy and apparently unpaved road. There were times as they rounded a curve when he could feel the back of the van slip to the side and heard gravel kick up into the wheel wells. The hood was still over his head so he could see nothing. His wrists and ankles were bound, so his movements were completely at the mercy of the swaying van.

The sound of a cell phone ringing came from the front of the van. `I sure hope the driver isn't answering the way he's driving. We'll crash for sure,' Carson thought as he heard a muffled voice begin talking a couple feet away. He was only able to make out a little of what the man was saying, but it was enough to worry him that much more about what was happening to him.

"Yeah, tell the Roberts woman we got him. It went off without a hitch." Then a pause... "We were only there for a few minutes and the kid came outside with the garbage. We bagged him and chloroformed him." Another pause... "We'll be at the camp in about another ten minutes. Make sure they're ready for us, and we'll start getting the little faggot prepared for his `reeducation'." Then there were no sounds other than the noises the van made as it continued to speed toward its destination.

Carson was frightened beyond belief. He had seen pictures of some of the things this group had done to boys and girls alike to `cure' them of homosexuality, and from the sound of the conversation he had just heard part of, they were planning to start his ordeal this very night – of course simply having been kidnapped had frightened him enough. To make matters worse, Carson hadn't emptied his bladder after dinner, and the bumpy ride was making him feel as if he was going to burst at any moment. He certainly didn't want to add the embarrassment of losing control of his bodily functions heaped on top of everything else.

- - -

The FBI's action had been swift once Special Agent Kilgore called in the phone numbers to have listening equipment monitor. New technology recently available to them under the Patriot Act allowed them to monitor very specific cellular numbers without having to contact the cell providers. This made it much easier for them to even monitor the so called `throw-away' pre-paid phones – so long as they knew the phone's number. It was only moments after the tap was in place on the two phones Janet Roberts had routine access to when the first call came in. And four in the morning seemed an odd time for her cell to be ringing. Recording equipment began saving the contents of the call and tracing its origin. Once they had that information, they began to triangulate its location.

The contents of the phone conversation, which Sid received moments after the call ended, were even more interesting. Trevor suggested that his son leave the room before they played the call, but he insisted on staying. A man was doing most of the talking:

"Sister Roberts?"

"Yesh..." The woman's voice was clearly Steven's mother, and sounded as if she were quite intoxicated.

"God has smiled on us, Sister," the man told her. "Steven is with us. We will begin our work within the hour."

"Oh thank you so mush!" Janet gushed out. "I stayed up to wait for your call. Praise His name and may God blesh you in your work."

"God be with you sister," the man replied.

Then the line went dead.

Barbara Cross's face went white. "Oh my God, they have my baby and they're going to start..." Henry hugged her into him, and she sobbed quietly into his shoulder.

An FBI technician entered the room carrying some sort of portable electronic device which looked very much like a handheld computer. "The call wasn't long enough. We only got two points for triangulation."

"Use the locations of their properties here," Sid told the technician as he handed over a few sheets of paper. "See if you can use any of them to finish the triangulation."

"That's going to take a few minutes if I have to plug them in manually," the tech complained.

"Just get them in as quickly as you can, and make sure you're accurate," Kilgore snapped back at him.

Rebuked, the technician retreated to the dining room where he had set up the rest of his equipment to begin working.

Back in the kitchen, Sid tried to console Barbara. "Don't worry ma'am, we'll find him."

Steven was in little better shape than Carson's mother was. They had all seen the pictures of what the `church' his mother had become involved with was capable of, and it certainly was not pretty.

- - -

A trio of black Tahoe SUVs rolled to a stop in front of the home where Janet Roberts had been staying with a family from her church. Teams of FBI agents swiftly left out of the vehicles and took up positions around the house. The lead team approached the front door, and standing to the side, knocked loudly.

"FBI!" they shouted. "We have a warrant, open the door!"

A moment later, a light came on in the front room. The door swung open, and an unsteady Janet Roberts appeared, still holding a drink in her hand. The FBI agents quickly pushed past her into the house, guns drawn. One made his way into the back to let the others in through the back door of the house, also making sure that there was no danger to the team and that no one escaped through the back.

Soon, the team had the entire family, plus Janet Roberts assembled in the living room. The two children, a boy and girl aged ten and twelve were allowed to return to bed once the house had been cleared, though an agent stayed while their mother tucked them back into bed and then escorted her back to the living room.

In the mean time, an interrogation had begun to take place. On the advice of her friend with whom she had been staying, and according to the rights which had been read to her, Janet chose not to talk to the FBI without a lawyer. The people she was staying with took the same position once they were read theirs. One of the agents threw a stack of pictures down in front of them. These were essentially the same ones which Henry had showed to Trevor, Barbara, Steven and Carson previously, but with some of the more graphic details were blurred out.

Janet turned her face and covered it with her hands. She didn't want to see the pictures. The man who owned the house grabbed the pictures and turned them over. "This is blasphemy against God's word!" he said. "These are all lies! They are faked!"

"No sir, none of those photos has been falsified. But in the mean time, we need to place Ms. Roberts under arrest for conspiracy in a kidnapping, and we will hold you as material witnesses to a felon."

Janet let out what the federal prosecutor would later refer to as an `excited utterance' at that point... "But he is my son! It wasn't kidnapping! They had my permission to take him!"

This was probably the worst thing she could have said in her own defense.

"Mrs. Roberts," the leader in the FBI team spoke up, "it wasn't your son that was taken. It was one of the neighbors' children. Your son is at home with his father."

Janet refused to believe that she was being told the truth. Still, the case would be stronger if they could get her to admit her complicity and offer evidence against the rest of her group. The interrogation team decided to let Janet see Steven, so she would know that it wasn't really him who had been taken. Perhaps then she would open up to them.

- - -

Carson was lifted roughly out of the van by his underarms and legs. He could tell that he was being carried into a building of some sort by the sounds the feet of the men who were carrying him made as they entered. It sounded as if there was a wooden floor, and the footsteps of the men carrying him were heavy, as if they were wearing boots.

He was thrown roughly onto what seemed to be a cot of some sort. For a moment Carson was relieved as the tape binding his ankles was cut away, but then his shoes were pulled roughly from his feet and his socks pulled off. Carson started to kick, trying in a vain attempt to get away, but his legs were quickly grabbed and held. His arms were still bound behind him, and lying on them as he was became very painful the more he thrashed around. As he lay still finally, he felt his pants being unfastened, then being pulled down his legs.

Carson was left alone for a moment, lying on the cot naked save for the t-shirt he was wearing, the hood that had been placed over his head by his captors and the tape that still bound his wrists. There were some low voices near him, but they said nothing he was able to understand. Then he was being picked up again. The tape that held his wrists was cut away and his arms stretched apart by the two men who were now holding him.

Carson felt the tip of cold steel on his belly for a few seconds, as if it were a warning, then his t-shirt was cut away. Carson took the hint that the knife had been meant to convey. He stopped struggling against his captors. This was exactly what they wanted him to do. Carson was then backed into what was apparently an old lawn chair. The center of the bottom seemed to have been cut away, which seemed rather strange.

Then his captors taped his arms and legs to the chair. His legs seemed to be bent slightly behind him for just a moment, but then suddenly the chair was unfolded, and now his legs were stretched out in front of him. Even through the hood that was still over his head, Carson could tell that bright lights had just been turned on wherever it was that he was being held.

Carson became increasingly worried about what was going to happen to him. It felt as if he was being stared at while he was strapped onto the chair, and in fact he was. Finally one of the men, the one who was obviously in charge, spoke. "Get him ready," was all he said. The voice was familiar – gruff, but with a pronounced southern accent. Carson knew he had heard it somewhere before, but where?

Carson cringed, involuntarily tightening his muscles for whatever might be coming next. But a soft, soothing voice breathed into his ear, "Relax. The more you tense up the more uncomfortable this will be. Please, we don't want to hurt you, Steven. Just relax."

`God, they really do think I'm Steven,' he thought. `I wonder if anyone has noticed I'm missing yet. Will anyone find me? What will happen once these people realize that I'm not really Steven?' These and about a million other thoughts flew through his head. They stopped suddenly when he heard the other voice once more. "I said get him ready. Now shave him and get the electrodes on him!" it demanded.

Carson froze immediately. `Shave? What would they shave?' he thought. Then his arms were cut loose just for a moment and secured once again above his head, this time with plastic ties instead of tape. The ties were tightened to a very uncomfortable degree, and Carson found that his arms were immobilized.

Then the lounge he was strapped to tilted back on end. He was now acutely aware of the hole which had been cut into the bottom of the chair leaving his rear end very exposed. First he heard a whirring noise. There was a feeling of warmth in one armpit, followed by the other. Carson felt the coldness of a straight razor against him, followed by a warm, wet rag wiping away any residue in both armpits.

With the hood still over his head, Carson didn't know what would come next when he heard the whirring noise once more. This time it was his pubic mound that was prepared. "Hey!" he finally cried out. "Stop it!"

"Shut him up," said the same gruff voice with the southern accent he had heard before. There were others watching this humiliation he was being put through... Just as he felt the hand putting a chloroform rag over his face through the hood once more, Carson was no longer able to control his bladder.

When Carson came to next, he was lying prone. As far as he was able to tell, he was still tied down to the same lounge chair. There was a strange nakedness around his groin that was unfamiliar to him.

"He's coming around," a voice said, though Carson was still a little too groggy to realize who may have been speaking. "Get the probe ready."

Carson tensed, and the leader of his captors saw this. "Put it in," he stated rather coldly. "I want the little fag to feel it going into him. Let him think it's his boyfriend. Let the pain it will bring him remind him of the other faggot. The cleansing pain God will bring him will cure him of his deviant desires!"

The chair was lifted again. A strange coolness brushed against him, first in the front, then the back. Once the chair was lifted back, Carson felt a strange, metallic sensation pushing against his anus. It seemed slender, and there seemed to be some ointment to help it slide it. As much as he tried to squirm and move away, Carson could not keep it from penetrating him. When the lounge he was tied to was lowered, straps were wrapped about his waist which forced the invading probe even deeper inside. Whatever it was, it was trapped inside him now.

Next, some sort of ointment was applied to his underarms and testicles. Then wires were taped in place – one in each armpit and one on each of his balls.

- - -

Janet Roberts was being held in an FBI van. They had been trying to get her to sober up, but all she was willing to take was a small amount of water. She still refused to believe that the church could have taken the wrong boy from her husband's home – they were after all being guided by the hand of God. Then Steven stepped into the back of the van with her.

It had taken a lot of convincing for Trevor to let his son participate in the questioning of his mother, but he had finally relented. It was only when she saw her son step into the van's side door that she finally believed the FBI agents had been telling her the truth about the wrong boy having been taken. She began to throw up.

Steven stood and watched his mother. When she was finally finished, he stepped forward, carefully avoiding the vomit, and cleaned around her mouth with a wet wipe. Her hands were still cuffed behind her, so she was unable to do it for herself. As horrible as she had been to him, Steven still felt at least pity for her.

"Please tell where they've taken Carson," he pleaded as he knelt beside her.

His mother shook her head. "He's in God's hands – where you should be," was all she was willing to say.

"Mom, you must know you're going to jail for this. If you really love God, please tell the police where those people have taken Carson."

His mother's face took on a stony expression, and she remained silent. It was obvious that she was not going to help them.

Steven got up and left the van. He had hoped there was still some real love left in his mother for him. He'd decided now that he must be wrong. He now just hoped that the FBI would be able to find and rescue Carson before it was too late. His mother was not going to be any help to them it seemed. As he left, his mother was reciting the 23^rd psalm over and over... "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul; He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want..."

- - -

"Would she tell you where they have Carson?" Barbara asked Steven when he came out of the large van and walked over to the converted RV the FBI used as a mobile command center. He shook his head sadly. Steven had really hoped that his mother would come to her senses once she saw that it wasn't him who was taken, but he now realized that she was lost to reason.

Steven shook his head. "No, but she did admit she was involved." He slumped into a chair and put his face into his hands.

It was up to the FBI's technicians to locate the place they had taken his boyfriend now. Agent Kilgore came over and knelt beside him. He put a hand on Steven's knee. "Don't worry," he said reassuringly. "We'll find him."

Steven sniffed. "But can you find him in time?"

Sid patted his knee before he stood and returned to where the technicians were focused on their equipment.

It was five o'clock in the morning when the FBI technicians finally pinpointed the property from where the call to Janet Roberts had been made. Thirty minutes later, a federal search warrant on the way, agents approached the front of the compound. They came in stealthily, as not to give warning about the impending raid which would begin as soon as they had the warrant in hand.

When the warrant finally arrived, some two hours later, the FBI SWAT teams had positioned themselves completely around the compound. They arrived in a manner which would not alert anyone inside to their presence and spotters had identified a damaged, white cargo van which was partially concealed in a shed as the probable abduction vehicle. Nearby was a small wooden building. There was a man in old, dirty-looking army fatigues standing by the door smoking a cigarette. The commander of the SWAT team identified this structure as a primary target to be searched when they stormed the facility. Other buildings he designated included a cinder block structure which seemed to be some sort of office and two other wooden ones that seemed almost barracks like.

When the man had finished his cigarette and went back into the little building, the SWAT commander signaled for the raid to begin. The high chain link fence surrounding the compound had already been cut in several places to make the impending raid easier. As agents from the team began to enter the compound, a heavily armored Suburban crashed through the front gates.

Inside the little wooden building, Carson heard heavy footsteps approaching, and smelled the unmistakable, acrid odor of cigarette smoke. The voice he had come to recognize as the leader of the group who had taken him spoke from beside him. "Turn the machine on," he directed one of his subordinates. Then finally he pulled the hood from Carson's head.

Carson blinked as the light hit his eyes. He looked first at his body. He had been shaved completely below the neck. There wasn't a trace of body hair left. He could see that wires ran both to his testicles and underarms. Another cable ran underneath the lounger he was strapped to, which Carson guessed must be attached to the metal probe that had been inserted... back there.

The man standing next to him was dressed in some sort of old military uniform. It was very dirty looking, though the man didn't smell, other than of cigarettes. Across the small room, Carson saw two other men, similarly attired. One was standing at a console that was on top of a large box which the wires that were attached to his body extended from. "Light up the external," the man next to him directed. Behind the console a switch was flipped and a dial turned.

The man touched a device that looked a bit like a curling iron to Carson's nipple. An electric shock ran through his body causing him to twitch involuntarily. "This is your introduction," the man said, then touched the device to his other nipple causing him to convulse once again. "You will soon learn to loathe the homosexual lifestyle you've chosen."

On the other side of the room, the man who wasn't operating the controls pulled a cell phone from his pocket and began punching buttons. Finding what he was looking for, he showed the display to the man standing next to him. He said something too quietly to be heard and they both got an ashen look on their faces.

"What's wrong?" the leader of the group asked.

"That's not Steven Roberts... Show him," the man behind the console directed.

The man gestured with the `curling iron' for the other to approach and he looked at the picture on the cell phone. Then he looked back at Carson. "So who is this?" he asked to no one in particular.

"He was at the right house... We thought we had..." the man at the electronic controls began to stammer.

"Oh shut up, you idiot! Don't you realize what you've done?" the boss yelled back at him.

Suddenly a concussion rocked the little building. Moments later, police in riot gear with weapons at the ready burst into the room where Carson was being held. The man behind the console had nowhere to go, but the other two dropped the objects they were holding and made for a back door to the room. They hadn't made it quite to that door when it too was thrown open and more police entered from that side.

Carson breathed a sigh of relief. He was saved! But God, was he embarrassed to be found in the position his kidnappers had placed him.

* * *

Kyle and Joey slept peacefully, their energy spent. The night air was cool, but with Kyle having recently moved his room to the attic, because warm air rose, it seemed to hover around them. Kyle's father had hired a contractor to install proper air conditioning and heat ducting to the attic now that Kyle had converted it into a bedroom, but they hadn't been able to perform the work yet, so the covers were soon kicked to the foot of the bed. A large oscillating fan in one corner of the room kept the air moving so they weren't too uncomfortable.

Fortunately they had both pulled boxers on before going to sleep, and when Kyle's mother came up the stairs into his room to wake them for breakfast, they were both splayed out all over the top of the bed. Kyle was lying on his back with his head on a pillow, one arm crossed over his forehead, the hand on the other stuck down into the front of his boxers. Joey was on his stomach, diagonally across the bed, his arms and legs all over the place.

Kyle's mother knocked on the wall next to the stairs. "Breakfast will be ready soon boys, get up and get dressed!" When she saw Kyle sit up in bed she turned and went back down the stairs.

It took a few moments for it to register that his mother had actually come into his room to wake them. He looked around quickly and was relieved to discover that the most embarrassing thing she might have seen was his hand stuck into the front of his boxers. That was bad enough... `I'd better check the lock on the door,' he thought. `I could have sworn I locked it when we came upstairs last night...'

Then Kyle shook Joey awake. The younger boy was definitely a heavier sleeper than he was, and it took a moment to rouse him. "Come on Mr. Sleepy, mom just came up to tell us that breakfast will be ready soon. We gotta get up."

Joey definitely didn't catch on to the `came up' part of Kyle's statement right away. He simply rolled out of bed and headed toward the bathroom, absent-mindedly scratching himself where boys will tend to scratch themselves first thing in the morning. When he got to the bathroom door, he turned and asked, "Came up?"

Kyle was already headed toward the bathroom himself. "Yeah, she was in here," he said, grinning.

"I thought you locked the door?" Joey asked, concerned.

"I thought so too. It must be broken," Kyle replied. "I'll make sure it's fixed later. And don't worry, neither of us was having an embarrassing moment."

"But we might have been," Joey countered.

"Yeah, but we weren't," Kyle replied as he pushed Joey through the door into the bathroom. "Now get outta the way, I have to pee." Kyle stepped into the bathroom, lifted the toilet seat and pulled the front of his boxers down so he could urinate.

Joey stepped up behind him. "Here, I'll help you hold it," he offered. Kyle was startled at first, but didn't offer any further reaction.

When he stepped out of the way and Joey moved in to pee, he seemed a little disappointed that he wasn't offered any `assistance' from Kyle, and said something about it. "Baby, yours isn't big enough that you need help holding it," Kyle kidded him.

When Joey finished and turned back to him, he frowned. It wasn't convincing though, and seeing Kyle grin at him; Joey finally gave in and smiled back. They showered together - washing and drying each other, but kept it quick as they weren't sure about whether or not one of Kyle's parents coming back to check on them. That didn't happen though, and the boys were dressed and downstairs for breakfast just as Kyle's mother was taking waffles off from the iron for them.

The boys slid into their chairs and started slathering butter and maple syrup over their waffles. Each also took a few slices of bacon to finish up their breakfast. Kyle's mother tried to get them to take some sausage too, but Kyle's father was the only taker for that.

After breakfast, Joey and Kyle headed to the beach. They didn't have anything particular to do in mind, but being the start of their summer vacation, they knew they would find something. They both thought that sooner or later, some of their friends would show up to keep them company.

Some of their friends did show up later, but it didn't turn out to be to keep them company or play and lounge about on the beach with them as they had expected.

* * *

Joey and Kyle were not the ones whom Doug and Kelly expected to see at the beach when they got there early that afternoon. It was a slightly uncomfortable meeting when they ran into each other on the boardwalk. It seemed as if no one really knew what to say to anyone else in the group. Still, they managed to order burgers and fries from a vendor's trailer and took seats at a picnic table not far away.

The boys ate in an uneasy silence. Even the few homeless in the area seemed to sense the edgy, apprehensive air between the boys and avoided the table where they were eating. When the four had finished their food, they dropped their trash into a receptacle nearby and headed out across a wooden walkway over the dunes and down onto the beach, taking their unfinished drinks with them. None of the boys could explain even to themselves why exactly they were sticking together, but yet they did.

The call came to Kyle's cell phone only a few minutes after they got to the beach. He looked panic stricken as he listened to what the caller had to tell him. When he flipped the phone closed, he turned to Joey. Joey was looking at him apprehensively. "Dude, a friend of mine is in some bad trouble. I have to go - I gotta try to help," he said.

Joey got up and started to gather his things as well. "I'm going with you," he stated, as a matter of fact rather than asking if Kyle wanted him to go along.

Kyle looked over to him and nodded, indicating that Joey's presence would not be unwelcome. Doug asked if he and Kelly could help at all, but Kyle told him that the information they had was too sketchy at the moment, but they would call if there was anything they could do.

* * *

Melissa had steeled her resolve as she dressed and fixed her hair. This was going to be the day she confronted Kelly about his relationship with Doug. She was going to tell him everything she knew about them and issue an ultimatum. Either he would be with her, or she would tell everyone what she had found out – and she did have a witness, so he couldn't deny it. She came into the kitchen for a late breakfast, and glanced up at the small television her mother kept on the kitchen counter.

Her mother liked to keep a local morning show on while she did her normal kitchen chores and they were cutting in with a breaking news story. A boy from their area had been kidnapped while spending the night at a friend's house, and since the news media wasn't being allowed to enter the crime scene area, there was a lot of speculation about what had really happened. There were some neighbors who came out and talked with reporters, wanting to get their fifteen minutes of fame, but the story was very incomplete at that point.

An `on the scene' reporter cut in, announcing that there was a new development in the case. A FBI spokesperson was making a statement – they had determined who the kidnappers were and where the young man had been taken. Then she saw a name she recognized flash on the screen: Love Through Action. Now her attention was completely drawn to the TV. The FBI was saying that they had played a major role in the kidnapping, as had the mother of one of the boy's friends.

The television station cut to footage from a news helicopter which was circling a small group of buildings in a rural setting. There were lots of police and emergency vehicles all over the area. A camera from the helicopter zoomed in as an ambulance crew carried a teen boy from a small building on a stretcher. He was covered with a blanket, and although the camera was zoomed in, you couldn't tell much more about his features than that he was blonde.

Melissa opened her purse and looked at the brochure Janet Roberts had given her just to be sure the name she had recognized on the television was the same one as she had seen on the pamphlet. It was. Then Melissa saw something that really made her gasp. A very disheveled looking Janet Roberts was being taken from an FBI van in handcuffs and led into the federal building downtown. A blonde man in his early to mid twenties followed her out. He was wearing a black ball cap with "FBI" emblazoned across the front in large gold letters. Reporters rushed forward looking for a statement. Several microphones sporting the logos of various television and radio stations in the area were thrust in front of him and reporters all shouted questions at once.

He looked tired, and seemed more than a little put out with the people from the media. He raised his hands in a palms-out gesture to get them to be quiet. Once they had finally settled down, he cleared his throat and began to speak:

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen. I am Special Agent Kilgore and I have a brief statement for you. Last night, Janet Roberts contracted with the group Love Through Action to take her son for the second time. Their first attempt, made several weeks ago having been unsuccessful. Unfortunately, this time they took the wrong boy."

"He was taken to a remote facility in northern Georgia, just across the state line. Acting in cooperation with local authorities, the FBI was able to ascertain the boy's location and a rescue operation was mounted first thing this morning. Several other teens were also being held at the facility and we are looking into their circumstances at this time."

"Mrs. Roberts and several members of the Love Through Action group have been taken into custody and are being charged with kidnapping, child abuse and child endangerment at this time, though we expect more charges to be forthcoming as the investigation into the Love Through Action group continues."

He turned to leave, which prompted the reporters to begin shouting questions at him again. He ignored them and walked into the building.

Melissa's mother had stopped what she was doing and started paying attention to the television news report when she heard her daughter gasp. She recognized Janet Roberts from church and covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh my!" she exclaimed. "That is awful!"

Melissa wasn't quite sure what her mother meant exactly by her comment – whether it was Janet getting arrested or the boy being kidnapped. Melissa's opinion was certainly more in favor of the woman who she had been using as her confidante being arrested as the horrible thing.

The report continued as the scene shifted to a man being interviewed outside a house in the front yard. He looked sort of the intellectual type, with short, thinning brown hair, wire-rimed glasses and a tweed jacket over a white shirt. The caption identified him as Dr. Henry Bloomfield, the step-father of the boy who had been kidnapped. He was talking about the horrible things that Love Through Action did to kids in their `deprogramming boot camps' and their inhumane treatment of the teens whose parents sent them there. "I just want to thank the police and FBI for rescuing Carson before they were able to get any further into the systematic torture they are known for," he was saying.

The female reporter who was interviewing him looked shocked for a moment. "Torture?" she asked.

Henry nodded. "They start with electric-shock therapy, and apparently were just getting started with Carson when their compound was raided this morning."

Someone at the television station apparently thought better of where the interview was headed, so the station cut back to the studio, where the news anchor promised more details as they became available.

* * *

Michael returned to the entry hall and gathered his shoes. He hadn't pulled the door to Bobby's room shut after he had seen Bobby and Billy on the bed together. He was disappointed on the one hand, but felt a sense of relief on the other. He had suggested that they see other people when he went off to college, even though Bobby had seemed resistant to the idea. He had apparently gotten over his reluctance. Still, Michael was disappointed – and a bit stunned. He certainly hadn't expected to walk in on Bobby with another boy now – still with a good two months before he was scheduled to leave for college.

Michael was sitting on the front steps tying the laces on his shoes, feeling a bit dazed from his discovery a few minutes before when a taxi pulled into the driveway. Bobby's parents were returning home early. `Oh shit!' Michael thought suddenly. `I know he doesn't expect them home. What am I going to do?'

Bobby's father gave a brief hello as he walked past with their overnight bags and let himself into the house. Michael knew there was no way he was going to warn Bobby of what was about to happen. Helene Connor stopped to chat for a moment. "Hello Michael dear, how are you feeling?"

"Um, er, just fine thank you for asking, Mrs. Connor," he stammered out.

"You're looking a bit flushed, Michael. Are you sure you're alright? We wouldn't want you having another accident or anything."

"No Ma'am. Really, I'm fine. Um, I really need to go. See you later..." Michael said as he hurried towards his mother's car to drive home. Helene Connor waved as he pulled the car out of the driveway.

`Such a nice boy,' she thought as she walked into the house. "Bring the bags upstairs dear so I can unpack," she said to her husband as she started up the stairs. "Drinks can wait a few minutes."

Arthur Connor poured their drinks before he put the martini shaker down, picked up their luggage and followed his wife up the stairs a couple moments later.

- - -

Billy did want his relationship with Bobby to start coming out in the open. But he certainly couldn't have anticipated quite how this was going to come about...

He was lying on his back on Bobby's bed; his legs raised high in the air. Bobby had just finished smearing lubricant in and around his tight little hole and was starting to press forward to penetrate him. That's when the boys heard a voice from the door.

"Robert, your father and I are home. Oh, I didn't know you had company. William dear, will you be staying for dinner?"

Bobby's head jerked around toward the door, where his mother stood, her face nearly expressionless. Neither Billy nor Bobby was quite sure how to react. Surely it had to be obvious what they were doing, but Bobby's mother seemed to be taking no notice of it whatsoever. She didn't wait for an answer, but just seemed to assume that Billy would be joining them for dinner. "You boys come down for hors d'oeuvres and a glass of wine when you're done. We'll have dinner in an hour or so."

She started to walk away, leaving the door open. "Geez Mom!" Bobby called after her, "could you at least shut the door please?!" He briefly considered pointing out that they were in a rather intimate moment, but thought better of it.

Helene Connor complied with her son's wishes and pulled the door shut before she walked away. Arthur was just reaching the top of the stairs as she started away from their son's door and toward their bedroom. "Does Robert have more company?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered over her shoulder. "He's having sexual intercourse with the neighbor boy from down the street."

"I thought he was involved with that nice young man we saw leaving as we got home," Arthur replied.

"So did I Arthur dear, perhaps the boy is a little more promiscuous than we've realized thus far. Now, hand me my bag. I'll unpack my things."

Bobby and Billy were able to hear most of the exchange between his parents as they continued down the hallway past his bedroom and into their own. Bobby pulled back from Billy rather abruptly, causing a slight popping noise as the head of his penis quickly exited Billy's backside. He rolled over onto his back and slumped onto the bed, propped up on his elbows.

Billy's legs dropped to the bed. He grabbed a couple tissues from the table next to the bed and began to clean the excess lube from his butt cheeks. He looked up at Bobby, noting that his penis was now nearly completely deflated. "Your parents sure know how to kill a mood don't they?" he asked, trying to make a joke.

Bobby grabbed Billy's arm and pulled him back onto the bed with him. He hugged his young friend's back to his chest and kissed his neck. "So, you are staying for dinner, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'll stay," Billy told him, and trying once again to lighten the mood, added, "I don't think I should leave you alone with them right now. They're obvious distraught."

"Shut up you!" Bobby quipped back, laughing, then gave a slight nibble at Billy's ear.

Billy reached back to grope him in return, and perhaps get the still slick, but now flaccid member to harden up once more. `His parents obvious didn't care that we were doing it,' he thought, `so why not finish?' Then he thought of something else Bobby's parents had said... someone else had been leaving the house when they arrived home. Someone else Bobby had been seeing his parents had said. That had to mean Michael. There was no one else it could be. Somehow this seemed to have slipped by Bobby, or had he noticed and just elected not to say anything. Lots of thoughts were running through Billy's head as he slowly began to stroke Bobby's dick, bringing it back closer and closer to a full erection.

* * *

Comments and feedback are welcomed at t_macd@comcast.net (I will answer all e-mails sent to me, but please realize that my job requires me to travel a great deal, so it might take a while sometimes), flamers will be ignored by me, but will meet with an untimely and horrible demise as the result of the curse of the old gypsy woman who lives across the lake from me, and has inexplicably taken a liking to me. Anger her at your own risk.

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