The following contains scenes of sexual activity between males. If it is illegal for you to read this in your jurisdiction or if you feel you may be offended by doing so, please read no further. The characters portrayed in this story may engage in behaviors that would today be considered unwise and unsafe. The author does not encourage such behavior: nor does he condone the violation of any laws. Please respect yourself and your partners. Please do not copy or distribute this story without the knowledge or permission of the author.
    If you would like to read other works by me, go to the Nifty Home Page and click on the FreeThinker link under  Prolific Authors.  All characters in the story are fictional and any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. This is fiction and a fantasy. It did not happen.
    There will be a scene of sexual violence in this chapter. This is not intended for any gratuitous purpose and the author condemns in the stongest way this behavior. It is added for dramatic purposes. This chapter also shows characters engaged in illegal drug use. The author does not approve of chemical abuse and the story will eventually show this.
 

    I would like to know what you think. If you have any comments or suggestions, please email them to my new address:
fthinker@ gmail.com. (This is not a link; cut and paste into the address window and remove the space after the @).

    Thank you so much for reading my story and for the wonderful support you have given me over the last three years. Special thanks to Bill L for his special help.


Courage and Passion
By FreeThinker



Chapter Eleven
Betrayal of Trust and Self

    Blond hair, neatly combed. A jaunty cap worn at a cocky angle. A confident, happy smile. The shoulders of a perfect, ancient uniform.
    Sean stood before the fireplace in his living room as the heat of the fire warmed his pants and Sinatra sang on the hi-fi. He stared at the gold-framed photograph on the mantle, a black-and-white portrait now faded, after decades, to brown and yellow. He had seen the picture on the mantle as long as he could remember and knew the name of the young man only as Christian; but no one ever spoke of him.
    He was handsome and there was something quite appealing about his smile, his high cheekbones, the almost laughing eyes, so different from his usually subdued Scandinavian relatives on his father’s side. He looked much more like someone from his mother’s Irish side. He tried to imagine him as an actual living, breathing person when that photograph was taken, eighteen years-old, his life stretching out before him.
    Sean jumped when he felt his grandfather’s gentle hand on his shoulder. He turned and saw the kind smile on the man’s face. He was holding a glass of sherry.
    “Tell me about Christian, Granddad.”
    His grandfather looked at the photograph and his face became a blank. He stood motionless for a moment and then squeezed his grandson’s shoulder. He turned and sat on the end of the couch. Sean joined him and snuggled close with his grandfather’s arm around him, as he had as long as he could remember.
    “Christian was almost my brother. We became friends in grammar school, when Emerson was a grammar school. He lived in the house your friend Robby lives in now and when Mama and Papa bought this house, he came to welcome me. It was  1912.
    "We became fast friends. We attended the same church, we were on the same baseball team, we were in the Sheffield Radio Club. We were inseparable.”
    Sean looked up at his grandfather’s face and saw him looking off into the distance, a tear in his left eye.
    “We often sat on the floor right there before the fireplace playing chess.”
    “What happened to him, Granddad?”
    His grandfather said nothing for a long moment. Finally, in almost a whisper, he said, “He enlisted in the army on his eighteenth birthday and died eight months later at Chateau-Thierry.”
    Sean snuggled closer and his grandfather squeezed him tightly. After a deep sigh, he added, “He wrote poetry. He wrote beautiful poetry. Of course, it was much more common for boys to do that sort of thing back then, before the Great War changed everything. Everything.”
    Sean was about to ask his grandfather if he loved Christian, but the man suddenly coughed and withdrew his arm from around the boy. He stood and said, in a hoarse voice, “My son, it is time for bed.”
    Sean sat looking up at his grandfather. Slowly, he stood and hugged the man.
    “I love you, Granddad.”
    His grandfather was silent for a moment for before replying, “I love you, too, Sean.”

000


    The sun was almost blinding on the ice and snow as Robby walked up Sycamore to school and, despite everything that had transpired over the last few days, he almost felt happy. He was even looking forward to seeing Ethan. He would sit down with him at lunch and discuss why he was so impatient, so bitter, so ready to snap. He knew Ethan would understand; it was just difficult to admit that one was impatient and bitter.
    He crossed the street and heard a familiar, “R-r-r-r obby!”
    Zhenya was approaching from the west, a huge smile on his face as he squinted in the brilliant morning light.
    “Hey, Commie! What’s happening?”
    “How is Capitalist Imperialist Warmonger this morning?”
    “Gr-r-r-oovy,” Robby replied in an imitation of Zhenya’s slowly fading accent. The Russian boy grinned.
    “Far out!”
    “Have you seen Ethan coming up the street?” Robby asked as they climbed the steps into the school.
    “No. I hope you are not still angry with him.”
    “Are you?” Robby asked.
    Zhenya shook his head as they walked across the lobby.
    “No. I know he wants to be my friend. He just does not understand Ian. That is cool. He will get to know him and they will be friends, too.”
    Robby didn’t reply, but he smiled.
    Robby was in his desk in Homeroom as Sean walked by. The boy smiled at Robby politely, but said nothing as he walked to his desk in the back. Matt followed almost immediately, dressed in a gray Sheffield College sweatshirt that was several sizes too big for him, one hand holding his text and spiral, the other jammed in his jeans pocket, as it always seemed to be. He nodded at Robby as he passed and almost smiled as their eyes met and held for a second. There was something in that look, thought Robby, but he didn’t want to read anything into it.
    Matt walked back to his desk and collapsed into it. He and Sean ignored each other.
    Ethan then entered and headed directly for Robby’s desk.
    “Look, Robby, I want to apologize for whatever I did that upset you. I’m really sorry.”
    Robby smiled and looked down at his desk as his face flushed.
    “Yeah, well, I’m sorry, too. I’ve been real, you know, upset about stuff and…”
    “Hey, forget it. Listen, can you sleepover Friday night? I’ve got a surprise.”
    Ethan said the word surprise with a mysterious hint in his voice.
    “What is it?”
    Ethan rolled his eyes.
    “I can’t tell you, Doofus. It’s a surprise.”
    The bell rang and Mr. Osborn looked up from the lecturn.
    “Mr. Spenser, can your deep and undoubtedly earth-shaking discussion with Mr. McDonnell wait forty-five minutes or shall we delay our discussion of the Responsibilities of Citizenship.”
    Ethan grinned.
    “If you could, Mr. Osborn, I’d really appreciate it,” he replied, to the appreciative chuckles of several of his peers. The teacher pointed to Ethan’s desk and said, “Sit, Boy. Sit.”
    After class, as Robby and Ethan stood before their lockers switching their Social Studies books for their French texts, Matt walked by. Ethan reached a hand out and Matt took something from it and walked on. Robby frowned.
    “What was that about?”
    “Nothing,” Ethan replied with a smile.
    “Don’t say ‘nothing’. You gave him something. What was it?”
    Ethan raised a placating hand.
    “It’s about the surprise tomorrow night.”
    Robby slammed his locker and spun the dial.
    “He’s not coming over, is he?”
    Ethan chuckled.
    “No. Not unless you want him to. And, after the surprise,” Ethan added cryptically, “you might.”
    I doubt that, Robby thought as he followed his friend to French.
    Something else mysterious happened after lunch. First, Gavin Dietrich seemed to go out of his way to avoid Sean as they walked across the cafeteria to place their dirty trays on the conveyor belt; and, secondly, Matt appeared at the door and stood watching as Ethan and Robby approached. His eyes met Ethan’s and an unspoken message seemed to pass between the two. Robby looked at Ethan with suspicion as Matt turned and disappeared when they entered the hall.
    “I’ll meet you in class,” Ethan said quickly as he walked on ahead of Robby.
    “What’s going on?” Robby demanded loudly. Ethan looked back and held his finger to his lips, mouthing, “It’s a surprise” and smiling. Robby frowned, but went on. Ethan eventually showed up in Science just seconds before he would have been marked tardy from lunch. He winked at Robby, who sighed with concern.
    Later that afternoon, during gym class, Robby noticed Sean stepping away from the basketball game and heading into the locker room, probably to pee. He decided that this might be a good time to talk with him. He headed toward the door to follow him.
    Sean was, indeed, peeing, and as Robby approached the urinals, he looked up and smiled shyly.
    “Hey,” he said softly, looking back down at the yellow stream before him.
    “Hey,” Robby replied, pulling himself out and starting his own stream. “Listen, Sean, I don’t want to push you or anything, but, you’re my friend and I want you to know that if you ever want to talk, I’m here.”
    Sean was silent, but Robby thought he saw him start to say something and then stop. As he finished, Sean popped his thing back into his shorts and stood, looking up at the beige tile on the wall. When Robby finished and popped himself back into his shorts and turned, Sean spoke.
    “Look, I know you and Ethan are boyfriends, so I know you’ll understand. I know you know about how Matt and I had this deal where he watched out for me if I would, well, you know.”
    Robby nodded. Sean walked over to a bench and sat down. Robby stood before him, leaning on a locker with one foot propped up underneath him as Sean continued.
    “Well, after awhile I started to really like doing it with Matt and he was starting to act like he really liked me. I mean, you know how tough he always talks and everything. But, sometimes, like when I was sucking him, he’d like rub my face with his hand like he was being sweet or something. I don’t know, it just seemed like he was starting to act like my boyfriend.”
    Robby nodded. He understood.
    “Well, he acted so, well, surprised when I invited him to the party. He tried to act like it was this really lame thing and he wasn’t really interested, but I could tell he really was thrilled that I asked him. And, then at the party, he was trying to act like he was too cool for everything, but he really had fun.”
    “I know,” Robby replied. “I could tell. I thought it was really cool.”
    Sean nodded.
    “Well, after we left… listen, you gotta promise not to say anything about this to anyone, OK?”    
    Robby nodded.
    “And, you gotta promise not to hate me or think I’m a loser. OK?”
    “Sean, you can tell me anything! I won’t hate you and I won’t think you’re a loser. I promise. I’m your friend.”
    Sean looked at him nervously and then nodded.
    “OK. Well, Matt and I smoked some marijuana when we were standing by the lake.”
    Robby’s eyes grew wide.
    “Marijuana? You?”
    “Hey, you promised.”
    “I know. I’m not upset. I’m just… surprised! Wow. What was it like?”
    Sean frowned.
    “Well, I loved it. It made me feel so good and happy and everything. But, looking back on it, I can’t ever do it again. Never again! Because things got super scary later. I was so scared I thought I was gonna die! It was awful!”
    “What happened?”
    Sean swallowed and looked down.
    “Matt and I went to his place. He lives in this dirty apartment over on 15th, above the record store. And, we smoked some more and… well, it made us both like super, super sexy and we, like, got really crazy and had some really wild sex.”
    He blushed deeply and looked down at the floor, afraid to look Robby in the face.
    “Did… Matt hurt you?”
    Sean shook his head, but he didn’t look up.
    “He told me that I was his Little Buddy and he hugged me and kissed me and it was so great.”
    He looked up at Robby with tears in his eyes,
    “He told me I was his Little Buddy! He kissed me. He hugged me and it felt so good. It felt so good. He’s so strong and he’s so gentle and… he hugged me and I just wanted to lay there forever with him hugging me.”
    Robby smiled.
    “It sounds nice.”
    Sean smiled.
    “It was.”
    “So what happened?”
    Sean looked down again.
    “Well, he suddenly freaked out and started saying that I was turning him into a fag and to get out. And, the more he said it the madder he got. He scared me and so I got dressed and left. But, the marijuana suddenly got scary and I was outside and I got super scared and I know it was silly, but the stuff made me so scared. I ran home and I was like crazy and panicking and… it was awful. I’ll never do that stuff again!”
    “Oh, man.”
    Sean stood.
    “I couldn’t tell Granddad what happened. It would break his heart. I’m all he has and I have to take care of him. He’s too good to know about this and to worry about me. So, no one’s ever going to push me around again! No one. If they beat the shit out of me, I’m gonna take care of myself and make my Granddad proud of me. And, Matt Hunter is never gonna use me again! Never!”
    Sean was breathing heavily now and his eyes narrowed as he looked Robby in the eyes,
    “And, one day… I’m going to kill Gavin Dietrich.”
    Robby was afraid, because he knew that Sean was serious.
    “One day, I will kill Gavin Dietrich.”

000


    It had become almost a nightly ritual for Frank to join them for dinner and Robby was none too pleased about it. Tonight, his mother had cooked spaghetti and meat sauce and Frank was slurping it up into his mouth, sauce building up on the outside of his mouth before he would lick it off. It was disgusting and it was all Robby could do not to scream at him. He could never imagine eating that way in front of his father or his grandparents. Once, his mother caught him cringing and gave him A Look. He frowned and looked down at his plate.
    After dinner, he excused himself and went up to his room. He had spent the afternoon doing his homework and, now, had to practice his violin. As he climbed the stairs, he could here Frank make some sarcastic comment about “the screeching.” Well, fuck him, Robby thought. It’s my house and if I want to practice my violin, then I God-damn will!
    He sat in his chair holding his violin and stewing in his anger. After several minutes, he sighed and closed his eyes, breathing deeply, forcing himself to calm down. It seemed to work. Well, maybe Ethan wasn’t completely crazy.
    Ethan. There was something Robby needed to think about. Ethan. The surprise. There was something that wasn’t clicking that should. He reviewed the day. Ethan announcing his surprise in Homeroom, Ethan’s strange behavior with Matt before Second Period and after lunch. Sean’s conversation about his night with Matt, when Matt had gotten him high and…
    High.
    Matt.
    Ethan handing Matt something.
    Matt handing Ethan something.
    That was it. That was Ethan’s “surprise.” Ethan had bought pot from Matt.
    No way. No. It couldn’t be. Ethan didn’t do drugs. He was too smart, too interested in being healthy. He meditated. Heck, he was practically a vegetarian.
    But, he loved sex and messing around and Sean had said the pot had made them crazy horny. Maybe Ethan had tried it and found out what it did. Maybe he and Matt had done it.
    Ethan and Matt. Ethan had been looking at Matt for several days like he wanted to rip his clothes off him. What if Matt had gotten Ethan high and they had gotten it on with each other.
    No. Well, maybe. What if…
    Robby felt sick. No. That wasn’t it. He was just over-reacting to a bunch of coincidences. Nonetheless, Robby couldn’t practice. He wasn’t able to concentrate. He put his violin away and grabbed an anthology of Asimov stories off his shelf and lay down on his bed.
    Matt and Ethan.
    Robby wanted to throw up.

000


    Ethan was hard as a rock. He was laying on his bed, trying to read Slaughterhouse Five, but having little luck concentrating. The FM rock station, the student station at Sheffield State University, was playing The Who, and he had been moving his head against the pillow with the rhythm. He looked over at the clock on his nightstand. Nine-ten. Was it late enough? Maybe. His mother would probably be in the study working on a case. His sister was out with Chad. Maybe he could sneak out the backdoor without his mother noticing.
    His dick surged at the thought.
    Biting his lip, he set the book down and spun off the bed. He slipped his sneakers on and grabbed his jacket. He turned off his stereo and peeked out the door to listen. He could hear some piano jazz on the hi-fi in the study downstairs. Perfect.
    He went to his desk and opened the drawer. He withdrew the baggie and the small wooden pipe Matt had given him at lunch. Slipping them into his pocket, he snuck out into the hallway and tiptoed to the stairs.  
    Skipping the one stair that always creaked, he made his way downstairs and around into the hallway leading to the kitchen. So far, so good. In the kitchen, he stopped at a drawer and opened it, withdrawing a matchbook from the cardboard box therein. Quietly, he opened the back door and slipped out onto the back patio.
    It was cold and clear as he sat down on one of the wrought iron chairs. It sent a chill through his legs which did nothing to reduce the rigid boner in his pants. His hands almost trembled from the excitement and the cold as he opened the baggie and put a couple of pinches of pot into the bowl of the pipe. Wrapping the baggie back up and slipping it into his pocket, he lit a match and the contents of the pipe. By the time the bowl was empty, he was leaning back and staring at the stars in the sky.
    What a wonderful feeling, he thought. So much better than meditating. It gave him all the peace he sought, instantly, without having to work for it. He didn’t care that his mother was an over-achiever who liked to control everyone’s lives or that is father was the Absent-Minded Professor of Greenwich Village. It didn’t matter that everyone expected him to be either a great writer like his father or a great lawyer like his mother. He was just Ethan and nothing mattered. He was nothing. He was everything. He was Ethan.
    Friday night was going to be so cool. He would really make up with Robby and show him how much he loved him. Robby needed this stuff. Meditating wasn’t working for him, either. With is overly-demanding grandparents and his hateful mother and that jack-ass soon-to-be step-father. This was just what Robby needed to let go of everything. And, they could just let go together and really get into loving each other.
    Loving Robby. Oh, man. Just the thought of being naked with Robby when they were high made his dick throb. Ethan unzipped his pants. It was freezing cold, but it didn’t matter. He pulled his throbbing erection out and started rubbing it like a madman.
    Robby. His slim body. Those cute freckles. That awesome dark red hair. Halloween night, after the party, when he and Robby were naked in his room sixty-nining, he had discovered the first couple of hairs growing at the base of Robby’s dick. Soon, his voice would change. It was a shame. Ethan loved Robby’s voice. It was almost sweet.
    Robby. Ethan was jacking off so fast. Robby.
    He wanted to do all the things with Robby that he had done with Matt the night before, all the hot things that he had done with hot, sexy Matt. Matt. So hot, so sexy. Matt was so sexy, with those muscles and that hair around his big hard dick and that long brown hair and those beautiful brown eyes and that way he had of looking at you like he knew just what your were thinking. Oh, man. He had been so turned on with Matt. Matt was so fucking hot. Matt. Matt.
    No. No. He was supposed to be thinking about Robby and how much fun he would have with Robby Friday night. Just like he had with Matt. Maybe he could talk Robby into all three of them getting it on! He and Robby and Matt. Oh, man, that would be hot. Robby and Matt. Matt. Oh, Matt. His dick was so hot and it felt so good to feel it. It felt so good when Matt put his arms around him and held him. Oh, Matt. Matt. Matt.
    Before he realized it, Ethan had cum. It had been a really hard cum and the inside of his throat was sore from breathing the cold air so hard. Ethan giggled. He could see steam rising from the cum on his hand. His sperm was steaming! He giggled hysterically and then wiped his hand on his jeans. He stuffed himself back in and went back inside.
    Carefully, though still giggling about his hot cum, he made his way to the stairs, but decided to do one last chore before going to bed.
    “I’m off to bed now, Mom,” he called out.
    “OK, honey. Sweet dreams!”
    Oh, yeah, he thought. I’ll have some sweet dreams all right.
000


    “Hey, ya mind if I sit here?”
    Robby looked up and saw Matt holding his tray behind Ethan. Zhenya smiled and said, “Hi, Matt! Please sit with us!”    
    Ethan grinned.
    “Hey! Come on.”
    Robby simply smiled.
    “Hey, thanks. So, like, I was wondering maybe if one of you guys might help me with somethin’.”
    “Sure,” said Ethan. “What’s up?”
    Matt fumbled around a little with the roll on his plate of meat loaf.
    “Well, like I was wondering if ya could help me a little with that Math test on Tuesday.”
    Ethan and Robby looked at each other with wide eyes.
    “You want help with a test?” Robby asked skeptically.
    “Well, um, yeah. I think, you know, maybe I should start trying to, well, do good in school, maybe. I mean, you guys are smart and everything and I thought, well….”
    “Ethan is mathematics genius,” said Zhenya with a big smile. “He is perfect teacher for mathematics.”
    Robby smiled stiffly.
    “Yeah, he’s pretty good. I’m not bad at Math, either. We can help you.”
    Matt smiled and Robby suddenly felt an enormous guilt. The teenager looked so genuinely pleased and relieved.
    “How about tomorrow afternoon?” Ethan asked.
    “Tomorrow is Youth Symphony concert. You will not be there?” Zhenya asked with fear.
    “Of course, we’re going!” said Robby reassuringly. “Zhenya, you know I wouldn’t miss that for anything!”
    Matt shook his head.
    “It’ll have to be sometime when my old lady ain’t there. Her and her boyfriend. How ‘bout Monday after school?”
    Ethan and Robby looked at each and Robby shrugged.
    “Sure!”
    Ethan smiled gratefully at his boyfriend and Robby suddenly felt a flood of warmth for the strange, interesting boy who had captured his heart.
    However, before anyone could say anything further, Sean approached the table but stopped a table away. Robby saw him freeze and look coldly at the back of Matt’s head. He turned and started to walk away as Robby called, “Sean, wait! Come here. Come on.”
    The other boys turned, including Matt; but Sean walked on and took a seat near the conveyor belt. Matt looked back at his tray, first in dejection, then in anger.
    “It’ll be OK, Matt,” said Ethan.
    “Fuck it,” said Matt.
    Robby swallowed.
    “Look, Matt. I talked to Sean yesterday. I know what happened.”
    Matt looked at Robby in surprise. Ethan raised an eyebrow. Zhenya was watching with curiosity. Robby realized he couldn’t say too much with Zhenya there, as he wasn’t certain just how the boy would take the situation.
    “I, um, I think it’ll be OK. I’ll talk to you in Gym, OK?”
    Matt paused a moment and then muttered, “Yeah, well. Whatever.”
    The rest of the lunch, as well as Fourth Period Science and Fifth Period Math, went without incident, as did the beginning of Gym class. Robby and Matt were able to escape to the locker room after calisthenics.
    “So what’s up with Sean?” Matt asked as the two sat on a bench out of site of Coach’s office.
    Robby frowned.
    “Can you tell me what happened after the party?”
    Matt looked distinctly uncomfortable.
    “Well, like we went to my place and, well, kinda got it on, and then he left.”
    Robby cocked his head.
    “Come on, Matt. You got him high and you really got it on and then you freaked out and scared the living shit out of Sean.”
    Matt stood up and turned his back angrily on Robby.
    “Well, yeah. But, like I didn’t mean to freak out. It’s just… well. Shit man, I love Sean. I love him. OK? And, I freaked out and I don’t know how to make it good now.”
    He turned to Robby and the boy saw such anguish on the teenager’s face that he couldn’t be angry.
    “Why’d you get him high?”
    Matt frowned.
    “I thought it would relax him and make him feel good. He’s always so nervous and uptight and I wanted the little guy to have fun and feel good.”
    “You didn’t think you were good enough to make him feel good on your own?”
    Matt looked up with anger.
    “What the fuck you mean by that?”
    Robby looked at him evenly.
    “You’re a good guy, Matt. You don’t need to get someone high to like you.”
    Matt looked down at the floor.
    “Yeah, well. I know that now. So I fucked up. OK? So what the fuck do I do now?”
    Robby shook his head.
    “I dunno, man. He’s pretty mad.”
    “I know. I never seen him like this before. It’s like he’s a different person.”
    Robby stood.
    “I have to admit, though, that in some ways, I like the new Sean. He’s not acting like a pussy anymore.”
    Matt snorted.
    “Maybe I did some good,” he said remorsefully.
    “Give him some time. Maybe I can talk him into talking with you. OK? Maybe not today, but in a few days. OK?”
    Matt nodded.
    “Yeah. Well, OK. Thanks, man.”
    Robby turned to go back to the gym, but stopped. He turned around.
    “Matt, can I ask you a question?”
    “Sure.”
    Robby took a breath.
    “Did you give some pot to Ethan?”
    Matt hesitated.
    “No, man. I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. I didn’t give Ethan any pot.”
    Robby thought for a moment and then nodded.
    “OK. Sorry. Thanks.”
    However, for some reason, as he walked back into the gym, Robby did not feel completely reassured.
000


    Friday seemed to take forever to unfold for Zhenya. As he sat in his bedroom with Ian after dinner, he could barely contain his excitement for the next day. In just twenty-four hours, he would perform before an audience for the very first time; and, then, he would attend a glittering party for the stars of the symphony! And, after that, he would spend the night, alone, with his hero, his mentor, his love, his beautiful Ian.
    It had been a strange day. Ethan and Robby seemed to have special plans for the evening and were almost acting like girls, giggling and whispering to each other. It was very unusual, but then, they were special friends and such special friends often acted silly. Sean was still isolating  and acting angry and remote; and, the others were acting like there was a secret about Sean that they could not discuss with him. It almost hurt his feelings; it was as if they didn’t trust him and didn’t consider him truly to be one of them. It simply magnified the sensation he often had of being different from the others.
    Ian treated him differently, but in a nice way. He knew Robby and Ethan and Sean were his friends, but he was still different from them. Ian treated him in a completely different way, as if he were special. Oh, every once in awhile, Ian would grow inpatient with him, but that was usually when Zhenya was being stupid or not thinking. Zhenya knew that it was his own fault for irritating Ian. His mentor and protector was so smart and good and handsome that if Zhenya irritated him, it had to be his fault and not Ian’s.
    They were sitting in Zhenya’s room practicing the Dvorak for Saturday night’s concert. They had played the fourth movement twice and Ian stopped and placed his instrument in his lap. He looked at the boy with an admonishing smile.
    “Zhenyechka,” he said tolerantly. “You’re not paying attention.”
    Zhenya looked down at his lap in embarrassment.
    “I’m sorry Ian. I am trying.”
    Ian brushed a hand across the boy’s forehead and through the boy’s blond hair. Like the other boys at Waldo, Zhenya had allowed his hair to grow a bit longer. It now covered the top of his ears and swept down across his forehead, almost to his eyes. Ian smiled down at him as his fingers slid along the slightly darker eyebrows. Zhenya looked up at the teenager with an almost worshipful gaze.
    “It’s OK. I know you are excited about tomorrow,” he said softly with a smile. “My little Zhenyechka is about to make his debut.”
    “Yes, and we will go to a wonderful party after and then…”
    Neither had spoken of what would happen after the party. But, every time Zhenya had read to Ian from Dmitri’s memoirs about a beautiful night between  Dmitri and Prince Anatoly, Ian had seemed to understand just what Zhenya was feeling, seemed to see the beauty that Zhenya saw, seemed to feel the emotion in Zhenya’s heart. Zhenya was certain that Ian knew Zhenya loved him and he was equally certain that Ian loved him.
    Ian held the boy’s face and smiled.
    Suddenly, they heard footsteps on the stairs. Ian withdrew his hand and held his violin. Zhenya blushed and looked over his music as his father peeked in the door.
    “Zhenka, I must visit the chemist. I will be back soon.”
    “The chemist?” Ian asked.
    “Walgreen’s,” Dr. Koronov replied.
    “Oh. The drug store,” Ian relied.
    Dr. Koronov smiled.
    “Ah, the problems of learning British English instead of American English! There, Zhenka. See? Your Ian helps your Papa with his English, too!”
    He winked and disappeared. As they heard the front door close, Ian set his violin on the floor beside him and gestured to Zhenya to lay his on his desk. When he had done so, Zhenya turned back to Ian and smiled. The teenager put his arm around the boy’s shoulders and hugged him.
    “Ah, Zhenyechka, tomorrow will be a glorious night for you,” he said softly, effecting the tone he knew would move the romantic boy. “We will play beautiful music and then we will go to a wonderful party and then…”
    He took Zhenya’s face in his hands and leaned over. The boy froze, unable to breathe as he felt Ian’s breath on his lips as the teenager’s face came to his. He closed his eyes as Ian’s lips touched him and the older boy kissed him softly and gently. Ian’s fingers caressed his face as his lips tenderly rubbed against Zhenya’s.
    Zhenya could hardly breath as Ian held his face and loved him. At that moment, Ian could have done anything and Zhenya would have let him.
    “My little Zhenyechka,” Ian whispered as he pulled away. Zhenya gazed into Ian’s impossibly blue eyes . His lips were parted and his breaths were short and slight as he felt himself falling. He wasn’t. It was just Ian pulling him into his body and holding him.
    “My little prince,” Ian whispered. “Tomorrow will be the most wonderful night of your life. I promise you, my little prince, tomorrow night will be glorious and I will show you how very special, how precious you truly are.”
    It was not the language a normal teenage boy would use with another. Ian knew it was dramatic and flowery. But, it was language to which Zhenya responded. Tears formed in the boy’s eyes as he gazed rapturously up at the older boy.
    “Ian…” he whispered. Unable to go further, choked with emotion, he leaned into his protector and closed his eyes as Ian gently kissed his forehead and held him.
    Ian smiled with satisfaction.
    Yes, tomorrow night was going to be perfect.
000


    “OK. We’re even. You’ve won one and I’ve won one. Now, no more chess. What’s the big surprise?”
    Robby and Ethan were sitting on the floor in Ethan’s bedroom, a chess set between them,(delete ,) in the soft golden glow of several candles. It was jazz night on the student station at Sheffield State University and Miles Davis was playing softly in the background on Ethan’s radio. Downstairs, the tinkling of ice in glasses and the idle chatter of Ethan’s mother with several of her friends drifted up the stairs.
    Ethan smiled and looked to the door.
    “They’re going to go out for some late night drinks any time now. When they do, I’ll show you.”
    Robby raised an eyebrow.
    “Come on, Ethan. Tell me.”
    Ethan grinned and crawled over to the door. He cracked it a bit and listened. The adults downstairs were, indeed, preparing to leave for a jazz club downtown. He looked back at Robby and grinned.
    “It’s almost time. Man, you are going to have so much fun. This is going to be great. You are going to love this surprise.”
    Robby smiled, but was still uncertain. He knew that Matt had promised that he hadn’t given any pot to Ethan, but he couldn’t imagine what  else Ethan could be talking about.
    “We are going to have the best sex tonight,” Ethan said with a nasty leer. “It is going to be so good, you won’t believe it.”
    Despite his misgivings, Robby was getting hard thinking about being naked with Ethan. Perhaps, Ethan had learned something new, some new technique or way to do it.
    “Ethan, we’re leaving now,” he mother called from the bottom of the stairs. “Don’t stay up too late. I left some emergency numbers on the fridge if there’s a problem. OK?”
    “OK, Mom.”
    “All right, sweetie. And, remember, you’d better be in bed when I get back.”
    “Don’t worry, “ he replied with a grin at Robby. “We will!”
    Once he heard the front door close, he jumped up and ran to the closet. Robby watched with a worried look as he pulled their coats out and threw one to him.
    “Come on. We have to go to the back porch.”
    “What is this?” Robby demanded as he pulled the coat on. Ethan grinned.
    “Robby, I promise you that this is the most incredible thing, It is so cool. You are going to thank me when we’re done.”
    As they ran down the stairs, Ethan’s excitement and enthusiasm seemed infectious. Robby was rigid as they ran through the hallway to the kitchen.
    “Man, this is going to feel so good. I swear. I want to do this with you so bad, I can’t stand it.”
    Ethan unlocked the back door and opened it.
    “Why do we have to do it on the back porch?” Robby asked as he followed his friend outside.
    “Because I don’t want to smell up the house.”
    Robby froze.
    “What’s going to smell up the house?” he asked warily.
    Ethan grinned.
    “I bought some pot from Matt. We’re going to get high and have the best sex of our lives! You won’t believe how good sex feels when you’re high! It is so good! It’ll blow your mind!”
    Robby stood frozen, staring at Ethan in disbelief, though his friend was too into his enthusiasm to notice. He had pulled his wooden pipe from his coat pocket and the baggie of pot and sat down on one of the freezing wrought iron chairs. His breath was condensing as he spoke, leaving little floating clouds in the air before his face, drifting slowly to the south.
    “I jacked off three times in a row last night and it has never felt so good! Oh, Robby, I want to love you so bad tonight and feel you and suck you and kiss you and hug you and rub your nipples until we both scream ‘cause we can’t stand it ‘cause it feels so fucking good!”
    He was already dropping a pinch of the stuff in the pipe before he realized the cold look on Robby’s face as he stood by the back door.
    “Hey, come on. Sit here,” Ethan said, pointing to the chair beside him. Robby stood still. Ethan stopped moving.
    “What’s the matter?” he asked.
    “That’s pot.”
    “Well, yeah. So?”
    Robby’s neutral face turned to scorn.
    “You told me that you don’t do drugs.”
    “I don’t.”
    Robby looked on incredulously.
    “Well, what the heck is that?” he demanded, pointing to the pipe and baggie in Ethan’s lap.
    “Pot’s not drugs. Pot’s like, well, like drinking. Come on, Robby, don’t freak on me. We’re going to have so much fun. I swear. You are going to love this. I’m going to make you feel so good. I promise.”
    Robby swallowed.
    “Matt told me today that he didn’t give you any pot.”
    Ethan sat for a moment, before warily answering, “Well, technically, he didn’t give me any pot. I paid ten dollars for it.”
    “Ethan , you always said you didn’t need to do drugs ‘cause you got a better high from life and from meditating.”
    “Come on, Robby,” Ethan replied plaintively. “It’s just not the same. You can meditate on pot really good. It’s not like we’re doing heroin or LSD or anything.”
    Robby bit his lip. He was so horny and he wanted to make love with Ethan so badly he couldn’t stand it. But, he… he just couldn’t smoke pot with him. Ethan had not really been fair with him.
    “Ethan, the reason I love you is that you are so smart and so cool about life and always understanding how everything works and because… well, you’re Ethan. You’re not like everyone else. You do your own thing, man, and that is so cool. You don’t care what people think. You just do what you think is right.”
    “Yeah, well, this is right.”
    Robby shook his head.
    “No, its not. And, you know it isn’t.”
    Ethan looked clearly frustrated.
    “Look, one of the reasons I love you, besides the fact that your red hair turns me on so hard, is that you’re so willing to learn new things. You hated the anti-war protestors until we started talking about the war. You hated jazz until I played some really cool stuff for you. You hated meditating until I showed you how it helps you. Trust me on this.”
    Robby bit his lip. He wanted to. He wanted to badly. He was so freaking hard and he wanted to get naked with Ethan so badly. But…
    “Ethan, you’re not acting like you. This isn’t you. You said before that when you and Joshua did it, that you hated it and you’d never do it again.”
    “Well, that was because of what happened. Joshua kind of took advantage of me.”
    “Come on, you said you wanted to have sex with him so you’d know what it was like. You got high and you didn’t like it. Now, you get high and you say you love it. And, you say sex is great with it. What happened?”
    Ethan put the pipe and baggie down on the table beside him and stood. He came over to Robby and kissed him on the lips. Robby stiffened at first, but relaxed after a second.
    “Look, Matt showed me that…”
    Robby froze.
    “Matt.”
    Ethan immediately realized he had said the wrong thing. Instantly, he grabbed Robby’s crotch and started squeezing his boner, desperately hoping to make his friend so horny that he would acquiesce.
    “Look, let’s just try it this one time. Let me show you. If you don’t like it, we don’t ever have to do it again. No one will ever know, Robby. Just you and me. I love you, Robby. I want to share this with you. I want to make you feel so good. I want to make you feel better than you have ever felt in your entire life. I want you and me to love each other so deeply and so hard that we lose our minds. Tonight will be so wonderful.”
    He took Robby’s hand and started toward the table.
    Robby refused to move.
    Biting his lip and with tears in his eyes, Robby turned to the door and started back inside.
    “Oh, come on, Robby! Damn it! Try it! Don’t be such a fucking stick-in-the-mud! Don’t be such a middle class, bourgeois Republican!”
    Robby entered the door and disappeared into the kitchen.
    “Robby!” Ethan shouted angrily.
    He followed him in and as Robby walked down the hallway to the stairs, Ethan grabbed his hand and tried desperately to pull him back toward the kitchen.
    “Please, Robby! Please! I want this to be a special night! I love you, Robby! I love you!”
    Robby angrily tossed his hands away and ran up the stairs to Ethan’s room.
    “I’m not letting you out of this house!” Ethan declared blocking the bottom of the stairs as Robby emerged from his room with his overnight bag.
    “Fine,” Robby spat as he stormed down the stairs. He had his bag before him and shoved Ethan out of the way, pushing him and causing him to fall to the floor.
    “If you leave here, I won’t be your boyfriend anymore!” Ethan screamed as Robby opened the front door.
    “Fine. Go be boyfriends with Matt!”
    Robby stormed out the door and slammed it behind him, leaving Ethan laying on the carpet.
    “Robby!” he cried. “Robby!”
    For several minutes, he sat on the floor of the foyer, crying and beating his fists against the carpet in frustration. He had never felt like this before. He had never known such grief, such anger, such pain. When his parents divorced, he had been hurt, but both had made him understand and his meditation had helped. But, this was completely different. Ethan had never felt such a sense of loss, such emptiness.  He couldn’t deal with the pain.  It was too much.  He was being overwhelmed by it.  He was shaking; he felt hollow in his stomach.  Meditating had helped before, but for this?  No.  He needed to, he had to make the pain stop.
    He stood uncertainly and walked slowly down the hallway toward the kitchen. Cold air was pouring into the house from the open door as he sniffed bitterly. He walked out onto the patio, closed the back door, and sat down on the wrought iron chair.
    Why couldn’t Robby just be open-minded. Well, that’s what happens when you try to civilize some boob from Texas. Yeah. That was the problem. He just wasn’t very sophisticated. He, Ethan, had been around. He had grown up in Greenwich Village. He knew writers and artists and musicians. He had seen more in one month than Robby had seen in his whole life. Who needed him? He was better off without him. Yeah. Well.
    Angrily, Ethan struck a match and picked up his pipe. He took a hit and held the smoke, burning his throat. He struggled not to cough and choke as his eyes watered and stung in the cold air. He slowly let the air out and leaned back. Numbly he stared at the pipe in his hand. Maybe Matt would get high with him. Wait. His mom and his boyfriend would be there. It was Friday. Damn. Well, maybe not. Maybe they were out getting drunk. Maybe Matt was alone.
    Yeah, Matt was cooler than Robby, anyway. He understood things. He may be tough and not very educated, but Ethan could help civilize him. Yeah. And, Matt was hot. Yeah. Who needed that stupid bourgeois loser Robby!
    Ethan stood, took another hit and walked around to the driveway. Yeah. He would walk over to Matt’s. Yeah. His mom would get mad, but that was OK. He could handle her.
    Yeah, he thought as he walked down the driveway taking another hit. He was Ethan. He didn’t need all the stress Robby caused. Matt would be a better boyfriend. He could teach Matt better than Robby and he was sexier anyway.
000


    Zhenya sighed with a contented smile as he leaned his head against the cold window of Ian’s car. He gazed happily up at the magnificent English looking mansion as the snow fell and the lights twinkled and he listened to the crunching of the ice and snow under Ian’s feet as he walked around the front of the car to the driver’s side. It was cold, but nothing compared to what he had grown up with in Moskva. But, the scene outside his window was so beautiful.
    The house almost looked like an English castle, with great stone towers on the sides, a magnificent front door, and a spectacular stained-glass window above. There were giant evergreen trees guarding the house and the light from the windows made the whole scene reminiscent of one of the glittering nights in St. Petersburg so romantically described by Dmitri in The Book.
    It had been an incredible night. The concert in Schaumberg Hall had been sold out and the Symphony had received a standing ovation. The members of the symphony had all looked so splendid, the boys in their grey slacks and blue blazers with the red bowties, the girls with their navy blue skirts, white blouses, and red ribbons. They had bowed three times to the audience! Zhenya saw Robby standing near the front with Sean and his grandfather and both boys were applauding lustfully and shouting Zhenya’s name. It had made him so proud to see his friends there. If only his Papa could have been there.
    He had to admit that the it was a brilliant performance, and even he found tears in his eyes during the fourth movement of the New World Symphony. It was incredible.
    Afterwards, the congratulations, the hand-shaking, the introductions, it had all dazzled Zhenya. Robby and Sean had found their way backstage and when Robby hugged him, he had fought tears yet again. And, the party!
    The mansion was the home of one of the city’s wealthiest benefactors. Ian told him that anyone who was anyone in Sheffield was there, the Chairman of World Business Systems, the Mayor, judges, (including Gavin Dietrich’s grandfather), lawyers, (including Ethan’s mother), bankers, (including Robby’s grandfather). The Chairman of the Symphony Society even introduced him and Ian to the Governor of the state! The Governor! Zhenya was dazzled.
    The orchestra, students from Sheffield College, had played a mixture of Strauss waltzes and big band music and the men had all looked so resplendent in their tuxes and suites and the women so elegant in their gowns and jewelry. Zhenya had danced twice with one of the girls who played flute in the Symphony, once to a waltz he did not recognize, and again to a Glenn Miller song that his Papa liked, “In the Mood.” Zhenya wasn’t very good, but by the time the Glenn Miller came along, he had drunk his second glass of champagne snuck to him under the knowing and amused eye of the host by Ian. He made a very brave effort and he and his partner were applauded, to his delight, by many of the nearby adults.
    It had been the most glittering and wonderful of nights and, now, after sneaking a third glass of champagne, Zhenya gazed rapturously up at the magnificent house as it appeared through the falling snow through the foggy window of Ian’s car.
    The driver’s door opened and Ian was accompanied, as he climbed into the car, by a gust of freezing wind. Zhenya wore only his blazer and a scarf provided by Ian for warmth. The jaunty way Ian had wrapped it around his throat and shoulders had elicited a number of admiring chuckles from several departing guests as they stood in the foyer.
    Zhenya looked at Ian as the older boy closed the door and he smiled ecstatically. Ian smiled as well and reached a gloved hand over to caress Zhenya’s face.
    “You were magnificent tonight, my beautiful Zhenyechka!” he declared. “Everyone was so impressed with you! Dmitri Koronov would be so proud of you!”
    “Oh, Ian! This is the most wonderful night of my life! I never dreamed that I could have a night like this!”
    “Oh, Zhenya. You deserve it. And, it’s not over yet!”
    Ian leaned over and pulled Zhenya’s face to his. He kissed the boy lovingly on the mouth and Zhenya, tasting the champagne on Ian’s lips, felt he could have died of bliss at that moment. They pulled apart and Ian gazed down into the boy’s eyes, sparkling with the reflected light of the party within the great mansion.
    “I love you, my beautiful Zhenyechka.”
    “I love you, my brave and beautiful Ian!”
    Ian grinned at Zhenya’s flowery language, but this was an innocent and naïve boy who believed in the fairy tales of his Russian youth, who had read in his progenitor’s memoirs of the love of a romantic boy for his gallant prince and dreamt of the same. Well, Ian was going to give it to him. And, in return…
    Ian held Zhenya’s hand.
    “Doesn’t this remind you of the night of Prince Andrei’s party in Dmitri’s book, when Prince Anatoly and Dmitri escaped and rode through the streets of St. Petersburg in the carriage?”
    Zhenya’s held fell back against the headrest and the most beatific smile came over his face.
    “They drank champagne and made love as they rode through the snow,” Ian whispered in his ear.
    Zhenya sighed deliriously as Ian glanced down at his slacks and saw proof of the boy’s feelings. The teenager reached back behind the seat and as he grinned at the boy, he brought a bottle of Moet forward.
    “Look, my sweet Zhenyechka,” he said with a smile. Zhenya gasped and grinned.
    “But, we must be careful. My little Ice Prince has already had some, hasn’t he? He might forget himself.”
    Zhenya giggled.
    Ian pulled two champagne flutes from the back seat.
    “Where did you get the champagne?” Zhenya asked. Ian chuckled.
    “I know one of the bartenders. My parents use the same caterer and… let’s say sometimes I do a little something for the bartender and he does a little something for me.”
    Ian took a towel from the back and after removing the foil and the guard, wrapped the towel around the cork.
    “But, Ian, what if it shoots champagne all over the car?” Zhenya asked with a nervous giggle.
    “It won’t, because I know how to open a bottle properly. You’re not supposed to shoot the cork off and let it spew.”
    He said the final word with a nasty leer, but he knew that Zhenya was too naïve and innocent to understand the innuendo.
    Slowly, he twisted the cork until it slipped out of the bottle with a quiet pop. Zhenya held the glasses as Ian filled them halfway. Placing the bottle of the floor of the car between  his legs, Ian took one of the glasses and the two toasted.
    “To my Zhenyechka,” he said with a smile. “The most beautiful boy in the world.”
    Zhenya grinned and replied, “How about, to the best night of our lives.”
    Ian nodded.
    “I’ll buy that.”
    They tapped their glasses and sipped. Ian leaned over and kissed Zhenya on the lips again.
    “Let’s go home. We’ll drive around the long way and let tonight be just like riding the carriage through the snowy streets of St. Petersburg in 1872.”
    Zhenya leaned back and looked out the window, sipping his champagne, as Ian pulled away out into the circular drive. Slowly, the car crunched through the ice and snow and pulled out onto Tenth Street. They drove slowly down the street toward downtown, though an area of huge, magnificent homes and wide lawns covered with snow. The clouds glowed white with the reflected light of the city and it almost seemed like afternoon as Zhenya looked up the street and saw a bright glow ahead. As they slowly approached , the glow resolved itself into the brightly-lit dome of the state capitol as it rose into the thick falling snow. When they came in front of the century-old edifice, Ian pulled over. He picked up the bottle again and refilled their glasses.
    He leaned over and kissed Zhenya again, this time pushing his tongue between their lips and into the boy’s mouth. Zhenya was so aroused, by now. Between  the champagne, his love for Ian, and the romance of the evening, he was delirious.
    “Oh, Ian,” he moaned as the older boy pulled back and smiled.
    Ian sat back and looked over at the capitol grounds. An elaborate wrought-iron fence surrounded the grounds and ornate antique lights dotted the walkways around the lawns, casting a golden glow over the snow-covered ground and creating a halo in the white clouds of falling flakes. Taking a gulp of his champagne, he said, “Look. Doesn’t it remind you of a great palace? Can’t you just see the horses trotting past, pulling their sleighs? Can’t you hear the bells tinkling as they pass?”
    Zhenya sighed as he looked past Ian at the winter scene before him. It was beautiful and his eyes filled with tears. When Ian turned and saw the boy’s moist eyes, he touched his cheek.
    “Let’s go home and I’ll show you how much I love you,” he whispered.
    Zhenya sighed and gazed with love at the older boy.
    The car pulled out into the street and crunched its way though the snow until it turned to the right. They drove past more stately homes until they came to a particularly large one across the street from a giant old church. Ian pulled into the driveway and drove around to the back.
    “Stay right there,” he whispered as he climbed out of the car with the champagne bottle and glass in one hand. He stumbled around the car in the snow and elaborately opened the door for Zhenya, who grinned delightedly as he crawled out. Holding each other for support as much as for love, they stumbled their way through the snow to the back door of the dark house.
    “Shhh!” said Ian dramatically. “Everyone’s asleep!”
    Zhenya grinned as Ian unlocked the door and opened it. Unfortunately, he stumbled against a table as they entered and nearly spilled the champagne. He giggled, as did Zhenya, who thought, despite his drunken state, that Ian was so gallant.
    Closing the door behind them, Ian led the boy through the dark house to the grand staircase. Taking a deep breath before starting up, he grinned down at the boy and took a swig from the bottle. To the innocent boy, the manner in which  he did it seemed so suave and sophisticated. Ian chuckled and led Zhenya up the stairs.
    When they reached the third floor, Ian stumbled forward until he came to a closed door. Putting his finger to his lips, he listened. Zhenya, too, listened and heard boyish moaning from inside. Ian grinned.
    “The horny little devils are getting it on,” he said with a nasty leer. “They don’t have their big brother tonight to give it to them!”
    Zhenya wasn’t quite certain what Ian meant, but thought it was possible the teenager was saying that he had sex with his younger brothers. Zhenya wasn’t quite certain that was at all right, but if Ian did it, perhaps it was an American custom, like circumcision and… baseball.
    They staggered on to Ian’s room and when they entered the huge bedroom, Zhenya was amazed at the sight. He knew that Americans were, in general, wealthier than most Soviet citizens, but the Norths must have been fabulously wealthy, in Zhenya’s mind. Ian had a television and a stereo in his room, a huge bed, and a fancy electric typewriter.
    He was standing in awe in the middle of the room when Ian came up behind him. The teenager had placed the champagne bottle and the glasses on the desk. He guided Zhenya to the window beside the bed and sat down, with Zhenya between his legs, facing the window. He opened the curtains and in the darkened room, they looked out upon the snowy scene: the wide lawn of the Norths’ house, the giant oaks and maples with their spidery limbs and branches silhouetted against the glowing white of the clouds, the huge church across the street with its gothic spire rising into the glowing and blowing snow.
    “Isn’t it beautiful,” Ian whispered in Zhenya’s ear. The boy cooed as he leaned back against the older boy. Never had Zhenya felt so romantic, so happy, so pleased with life. He had found the same love that Dmitri had described in his memoirs.
    Ian slipped Zhenya’s blazer off him and tossed it on the floor. His hands undid the bowtie and began to unbutton his shirt. Knowing what was about to happen, Zhenya closed his eyes and sighed. He slipped his shoes off as Ian slipped his shirt off the boy. Slowly Ian’s fingers traced around his chest and tummy, sending chills through the boy with their gentle touch, their tickling. The teenager’s fingers found his nipples and the boy cried out with their first electric touch.
    “Yes, my Zhenya, let it feel good, so wonderfully good, my love,” Ian whispered in his ear, sending chills through the boy as his warm breath tickled the boy’s neck. Zhenya writhed against the older boy, in heaven as the incredible feelings exploded through his body. His penis was so hard, so stiff and long in his slacks. He squeezed himself and dreamt of Prince Anatoly taking the younger Dmitri in the back of the sleigh as it glided through ice-covered streets of Tsarist St. Petersburg, past the glittering palaces and churches and academies of the most beautiful city in Europe. Ian would take him tonight, love him, give him the joy Tolyenka had given Dima.
    Ian’s hands slid down Zhenya’s tummy to his pants. As his left hand worked to unfasten the belt around Zhenya’s waist, his right hand slid across the front of the boy’s slacks and brought another whimper from the twelve year-old.  Ian’s hand enveloped Zhenya’s erection through the cloth of his black slacks and squeezed. The boy cried out.
    “Oh, yes, Zhenka. Yes, let it feel good,” Ian whispered over and over as he fondled the boy. “I love you, Zhenyechka. I love you.”
    As Zhenya squirmed in Ian’s lap, he could feel the teenager’s erection in his own pants against his seat. Zhenya gasped. It seemed so big, and as Ian opened the boy’s pants and began to slip them down his hips, he became delirious with the thought that Ian would soon take him.
    With his pants off, Zhenya sat naked in the lap of the teenager, gazing out the window at the winter scene beyond. His rigid erection rose stiffly before him and he cried out as Ian’s hands slid down his body toward his thighs. He felt the older boy’s fingers caress the smooth alabaster of the inside of his thighs and he whimpered with delight, even as his penis throbbed in the cool air of the dark room.
    “Think of how Tolyenka’s fingers crept into Dima’s pants and brought the boy to ecstasy as they rode in the sleigh,” he whispered in Zhenya’s ear. The boy was writhing uncontrollably.
    “Oh, Ian. Oh, Ian!” he cried. He began to mutter in unintelligible Russian as he thrashed about in the teenager’s lap. Ian’s fingers brushed across the tight sac protecting Zhenya’s balls
    “Ahhh, ahhh, ahhh,” he cried.
    “Yes, Zhenya. Feel how I love you, my sweet boy,” Ian whispered as the fingers of his right hand traced up the shaft of Zhenya’s throbbing erection. His index finger slid up to the tip of the penis and traced around the opening of the boy’s foreskin. Zhenya was losing his mind.
    “I love you, I love you!” he muttered over and over. “I love you!”
    Ian wrapped his hand around Zhenya’s penis and squeezed. The boy almost screamed and suddenly, as the hand moved up and down pulling the foreskin with it, Zhenya’s feelings exploded.
    He orgasmed. The feelings were greater than anything he had ever imagined. He thrust his hips and writhed and twisted and bucked in controllable ecstasy as the teenager brought joy to his spasming penis and when his orgasm subsided, he collapsed back against the older boy whimpering and cooing with exhaustion and love.
    “Sweet Zhenya. Sweet, sweet Zhenya,” Ian whispered into the boy’s ear as he gasped against the bigger, older boy. “Now, I’m going to give you what you really want.”
    Ian flipped Zhenya over his leg and lay him on the bed. He stood and wildly stripped his clothes off until he stood naked over the boy, his six inch erection standing up rigidly over the boy. Zhenya looked up in lust and fear at Ian’s penis, the circumcised head bobbing over his face, the jet-black public hair around the base of the penis looking so think and manly. Zhenya gasped.
    “Ian, Ian,” he muttered in awe as he gazed up at his hero. “Ian, Ian.”
    The teenager suddenly became crazed. He dove down to the boy and his mouth began to devour Zhenya, kissing and sucking and licking all over the young boy’s face and chest and stomach. He lifted his arms and licked and kissed the hairless underarms, sending Zhenya into paroxysms of laughter and moans. Hungrily, almost desperately, he licked and sucked and kissed downward over the boy’s torso until he came to Zhenya’s still throbbing erection. He sucked it into his hungry mouth and Zhenya cried out. His mouth dove down on the throbbing boy cock and when he had taken it completely in, his tongue lashed at the smooth, tight ball sac beneath, causing the boy to squirm and thrust insanely.
    Once again muttering in Russian, Zhenya grabbed for Ian’s head and ran his hands through the teenager’s raven hair as Ian lifted the boy’s legs. He pulled off Zhenya’s pulsing erection and his tongue slid down below the small balls and licked the scrotum until he came to Zhenya’s quivering anus. Hungrily, relentlessly, his tongue lapped and licked at the puckering anus, sending Zhenya into a frenzy.
    Suddenly, he forced his tongue into Zhenya and the boy nearly screamed as his penis and anus began to throb with the boy’s second orgasm of the night. Ian tongue-fucked the boy as the anus squeezed and squeezed, throbbing around the teenager’s tongue.
    He sat up when Zhenya’s whimper subsided. The boy looked up at his hero, at the young man whom he loved and worshiped, as tears of joy formed in this eyes.
    “I love you, Ian.”
    Ian, however, said nothing. Zhenya saw not love in the teenager’s face, however, but something else.
    Suddenly, Zhenya screamed with pain. Ian had jammed  two of his fingers into Zhenya’s anus. The pain was as excruciating as it was shocking and unexpected.
    “Shut up!” Ian hissed. “You’ll wake everybody!”
    “Ian! You’re hurting me!” Zhenya cried.
    “Shut up,” the teenager slurred. “You’ll love it in a minute.”
    He continued to jam his fingers into Zhenya, and the boy brought his legs down, desperately trying to block Ian from hurting him.
    “Stop! Please, Ian! You’re hurting me!”
    “Shut up, damn it!” Ian hissed. He slapped the boy’s face with his free hand and pulled his fingers out of Zhenya. The boy whimpered in pain, his tears flowing down his cheeks, relieved that Ian had withdrawn. However, his relief was only momentary. Ian reached over to the side table and picked up a jar of Vaseline. He opened it and began to grease up his rampant erection.
    “Oh, no,” Zhenya whimpered. “Please, no.”
    But, Ian was beyond listening. He grabbed Zhenya’s feet and pushed them into the air, forcing the boy’s rear end up. Holding his feet with one hand and holding the boy’s mouth shut with the other, he brutally entered Zhenya, stifling the agonized cries of the boy with his hand. Over and over, he plunged into the terrified boy, viciously fucking Zhenya, until, sated, he collapsed atop him. Slowly, he pulled out of the boy, momentarily gasping for breath, and then wiped himself off with a towel from the side table. He, then, pulled the covers back and crawled under, almost immediately passing out.
    Zhenya, however, was not to be granted the mercy of sleep. Instead, he curled up into the fetal position on top of the covers and silently cried, not understanding why the young man who had said he loved him had so brutally and callously hurt him, wondering what he had done to deserve this, and wishing he were home in the arms of his beloved Papa.


And, so, we have the ugly and painful end of Chapter Eleven. However, take heart. In Chapter Twelve, we will begin to see some of these conflicts and crises resolved, though some of our characters have a long way to go. I hope you are enjoying the story and will let me know at
                   fthinker@ gmail.com.

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