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.

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    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 Twelve
Love Lost and Found

Slowly, Zhenya became aware of a rhythmic, pounding sound. Painfully, he rolled over.

Knocking. And, a voice.

“Ian! Ian! Time to get up. Dr. Koronov will be here in a few minutes to pick up Yevgeny.

Zhenya opened his pain-filled eyes. His Papa was coming.

His head hurt and he felt sick. And, he hurt elsewhere, someplace no boy is supposed to hurt.

He heard a stirring beside him.

“Ian! Get up!”

“All right! All right, God-damn it! I’m up!”

The teenager groaned as he rolled over and sat up. The sun shined brightly through the window, its light amplified by the reflection off the newly fallen snow from the previous night. He looked over at the boy sitting beside him and frowned.

Zhenya,” he said softly as he reached over to brush the hair out of the boy’s eyes. Zhenya flinched and scooted fearfully away. Ian frowned.

“You’re not upset about last night, are you?” Ian said with fake concern.

Zhenya cowered and struggled not to cry.

“Oh, come on. I was drunk. All you had to do was lay there and it would have been OK.”

Zhenya bit his lip and he struggled to maintain his control. He stood up and Ian saw dried blood on the inside of Zhenya’s thigh. He frowned as the boy opened his overnight bag.

“Look, Zhenya, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I had a little too much to drink. OK?”

With a painful moan, Zhenya leaned over and slipped a clean pair of white briefs on. He remained silent as he pulled on a pair of khaki slacks.

Zhenya, come on, for Christ’s sake. Don’t make something more out of this than it is? Come on, it’s Ian. I love you.”

Zhenya turned to him with sudden fury.

“You are monster. You are evil.”

“Oh, for God’s sake. Quit being so damn dramatic. You don’t think it hurt the first time Prince Anatoly fucked Dmitri?”

“They loved each other! You don’t love me!” Zhenya spat at him. He pulled a white shirt on and slipped a crew neck sweater over his torso.

“Listen, you little shit,” Ian said viciously, grabbing the boy by his shoulders and roughly turning him toward him. “You begged for it, you little slut, so don’t bitch when you get what you ask for.”

“I thought you loved me,” Zhenya protested. “You don’t love me. You’re a monster! Let go of me!”

Ian angrily shook the boy.

“Now, you listen to me, you little faggot. If you whine about your poor little butt to anyone, and I mean anyone, I’ll trash you so bad, you’ll never play the violin anywhere. Ever! You hear me? And, I’ll tell your family’s deep, dark secret!”

“What secret?” Zhenya demanded.

“About your precious book! And, about your precious Dmitri Koronov! How he was a child molester!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on. I read about how he fell in love with his nephew Sasha. Alexander Koronov? You’re grandfather? He fucked him, like a God-damn pervert!”

“He loved Sasha! And, Sasha lied to him and betrayed him to the Bolsheviks just so he could get a privileged position! Sasha was evil! Dmitri was brilliant man and wonderful man!”

“He was a God-damn pervert who fucked little boys!”

Zhenya looked at Ian incredulously.

“But, you fucked me!”

“It’s not the same. I’m still a kid. I can do that. It’s different.”

Zhenya failed to see the logic in what Ian was saying and was about to dispute it, when the teenager grabbed him and softly, menacingly spoke in his face.

“Don’t fuck with me, you little faggot. I’ll fuck you over bad if you tell anyone. My family’s got friends and we’ll see you and your precious Papa get sent back to Russia! How would you like to see your dear little Daddy go to Siberia?”

Zhenya looked on in horror, not knowing how to respond.

“Scared?” Ian leered at him. “Yeah. You'd better be. Not one word. Got it? Or else.”

He shoved the boy down on the floor and stood shakily, walking to his closet and pulling a robe out. Zhenya hands were shaking as he sat on the floor and pulled his socks on. Ian looked down at him contemptuously as he slipped his loafers on.

“Remember, not one word.”


Robby was standing before his locker Monday morning as Ethan walked by. He said nothing as he hung his coat on the hook. Ethan, too, was silent as he turned the dial on the lock. Robby withdrew his Social Studies textbook from the bottom of the locker and stood up. Looking over at Ethan, he saw his friend’s eyes were quite red and his actions were rather slow. He stood in stunned silence as Ethan pulled his textbook out of the locker and slowly closed the door.

“How’s it going?” Ethan slurred as he smiled condescendingly at Robby. Without waiting for a reply, he floated on past toward the classroom. Robby closed his eyes and slumped in defeat against the locker.

“What’s the matter, Robby?”

He turned and saw Sean watching with concern. Robby didn’t know what to say. He shook his head and smiled sadly.

“Nothing,” he replied as he turned away.

“Hey,” said Sean forcefully. “You’re starting to act like me, now.”

Robby looked back at the boy and grinned.

“Hey, I’m not that bad.”

Sean smiled as he followed toward the classroom.

“So, what’s the problem?”

Robby took a breath and sighed.

“Ethan’s smoking pot.”

Sean stopped in the middle of the hallway.

“Did he get it from Matt?”

Robby nodded and entered the classroom. As he looked back, he saw Sean had not followed him. He went back to the door and saw Sean looking down at the floor with pain. Robby went up to him and after being shoved by an eighth grader, squeezed the boy’s shoulder.

“Hey, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Oh, it’s OK,” Sean said with defeat as he slowly walked toward the door to the classroom. “It’s not like we’re boyfriends.”

The bell rang and Mr. Osborn began calling the roll. Zhenya entered the door after the second name. Mr. Osborn raised a surprised eyebrow but continued the roll without comment. As he finished, Matt entered and sauntered on back to his desk. Robby saw that Sean looked deliberately away. His attention, however, immediately returned to the teacher at the lectern as he heard Mr. Osborn sigh.

“Class, attendance is becoming a bit of an issue. Everyday, we are getting one or two stragglers wandering in after the bell. We can’t have this. When that bell rings, you are to be in your desk with your textbook open and ready to begin the morning’s work. Mr. Koronov and Mr. Hunter, you will both write and turn in tomorrow a two-hundred word essay on the importance of education to being a good citizen.”

Zhenya had been looking down at his desk in shame. When he heard the punishment, he raised a clenched fist to his mouth and looked to be struggling not to cry. This was not lost on Mr. Osborn.

“On second, thought, we will let the essay pass and this can serve as your warning. The next time this happens, the offender or offenders can expect an essay. Consider today your ‘Get out of jail free’ card.”

Zhenya faced burned red with embarrassment and he looked down at his textbook in shame. Matt, on the other hand, merely shrugged and looked bored. Sean glanced over at him with disdain, which the thirteen year-old feigned not to notice.

Robby, too, was feeling contemptuous of the teenager, but he looked at Zhenya with something else: concern. This was not customary behavior for the boy. Zhenya seemed upset beyond what one would expect for that type of rebuke. However, as class ended and they were leaving the room, Zhenya hurried out before Robby could approach him.

When he reached Second Period French and saw Ethan sitting alone with a sleepy look, he took his seat silently and ignored his friend. Sean, too, ignored Ethan. Zhenya, however, appeared in class just before the bell rang. Robby leaned over and nudged him in the shoulder.

“Hey, Zhenya, you OK?”

The boy frowned nervously and quickly nodded. Later, when Madame Creneau requested the class practice the day’s lesson with their study partners, Zhenya was very serious and limited his conversation to only the material they were to study. Sean tried to smile understandingly at him, but it seemed to have no effect on the boy.

Robby and Ethan were equally business-like as they partnered-off. Ethan seemed to have difficulty remembering what they had studied and by the end of class, Robby was so disgusted that he could barely look at his friend. Ethan seemed embarrassed, but said nothing about it. By the end of the class, his cheerful, carefree attitude had been replaced with a morose silence.

Lunch was not a very cheerful experience. Ethan went off to sit with Matt at the other side of the cafeteria from the table to which Robby, Sean, and Zhenya sat. Robby merely picked at his food, while Zhenya seemed to withdraw into himself, even holding his arms close to his body and rarely looking up. Only Sean seemed to exhibit any life and his was subdued as he saw the pain in his friends’ eyes.

When Ethan entered Fourth Period Science after lunch, his demeanor seemed more upbeat again. Robby saw his sleepy, cheerful smile and his stomach became sick with disgust and regret.

Who could he talk to about this? He couldn’t go to his best friend, because it was his best friend who was having the problem. Could Zhenya understand and be open-minded about everything? Probably not. Besides, Zhenya seemed to be having his own troubles. Robby needed to talk with Zhenya about that. Could he talk to Sean? Maybe, though it was related to Sean’s own pain as it seemed now that Ethan and Matt were, at least, friends as well as dealer and customer.

After Seventh Period, as he stood at his locker preparing to go home, Robby looked over at Ethan, who seemed particularly eager to leave school. He watched the boy slam the door closed, leaving his textbooks and notebook inside.

“Aren’t you going to do any homework tonight?” Robby asked.

“Um, I’ve got plans.”

“Yeah. I know. You’re helping Matt study for the Math test.”

“Um, yeah. That’s right.”

Robby gave him a quizzical look.

“So, why aren’t you taking your Math book?”

Ethan stumbled for a moment and then quickly recovered.

“Well, he’ll have his. We’ll use his.”

Robby nodded and looked back at his locker. Not turning to his friend, he said softly, “I love you, Ethan.”

Ethan stopped. He stood silently behind Robby, biting his lower lip. Robby slowly turned. There was a pained look on Ethan’s face, but Robby couldn’t tell what it meant.

After a moment, Ethan said softly, “I gotta go.”

He turned and hurried down the hall toward the lobby and the front doors. Robby sighed and felt tears form in his eyes.

No, damn it! He was not going to cry. He wasn’t a girl. So what if Ethan wanted to throw his life away? So what if he would rather fool around with some white trash loser like Matt? So what? He didn’t need Ethan. Besides, he didn’t need to be a queer anyway. He should like girls. He shouldn’t be messing around with boys.

He leaned his head against the shelf in his locker and struggled to contain the tears.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Zhenya.

“Would you like to talk to me about what is happening?”

Robby looked into the boy’s eyes and saw such compassion and goodness that he wanted to throw his arms around Zhenya and cry on his shoulder.

“Yes,” he replied gratefully. “Maybe we could talk about what’s bothering you, too.”

Zhenya’s face suddenly lost its color and he quickly looked down.

“No. There is nothing bothering me. We must talk about you and Ethan.”

Robby sighed and pulled on his coat. Reaching down, he pulled out the textbooks he would need for homework, as well as his notebook, and slammed the door. Picking up his violin, Robby followed Zhenya toward the lobby.

“Hey, don’t you have Symphony practice this afternoon?” he asked as they crossed the Emerson Wildcat logo on the floor of the lobby.

“No,” was Zhenya’s short and curt reply. Robby raised a curious eyebrow, but said nothing else until they were on the front steps. Zhenya stopped and seemed to be looking around. Robby saw Ian’s green Cutlass waiting for Zhenya in front of Sean’s house across the street.

“Is there another way we can go to your house besides up Sycamore?” Zhenya asked.

Robby realized something must have happened with Ian and immediately understood that Zhenya was not only skipping rehearsal, but also avoiding Ian.

“Yeah. Let’s take the alley over there,” he said pointing to their left. Zhenya nodded and the two walked down the steps and across the heavy snow covering the front grounds toward the alley that ran behind the houses on Sycamore. Zhenya looked nervously toward the corner to make certain that Ian didn’t see them crossing the street and when they were safely in the alley, tromping through the six inch snowfall, he seemed to relax, though neither said anything as they made their way north to Robby’s backyard.

Stomping their feet on the wooden back porch to knock the snow off their shoes and pants, Robby saw, with relief, that Frank’s car was not in the driveway. He sighed and opened the door, allowing Zhenya to enter first.

They left their shoes in the mudroom and as they crossed the kitchen, Zhenya refused Robby’s offer of milk or Coke. After a curt, cursory conversation in the living room with Robby’s mother, the two boys proceeded on up the stairs to Robby’s room. Robby put his prized record of Dmitri Koronov’s Ice Prince ballet on his record player and turned the sound down low. Zhenya sat on the bed where Robby pointed and the two sat cross-legged, face-to-face.

They said nothing at first, as they listened to the magnificent first movement. Robby saw Zhenya close his eyes and slightly nod his head to the rhythm of the piece. For the first time the entire day, a smile started to form on the delicate mouth of the boy and Robby felt a flush, similar to what he often felt with Ethan, yet different. He had a strong desire to lean across and kiss Zhenya, but he looked down in frustration, forcing himself to think of something else.

“R-r-r-robby, what is the matter?” Zhenya asked softly as the music became quiet. Robby, looked up and saw such an expression of compassion on Zhenya’s face that he fought a second urge to lean over and kiss him. Instead, he took a deep breath.

“Zhenya, I want to tell you something. It’s really something and I want you to promise me that you won’t hate me or think I’m terrible or anything. You promise?”

Zhenya nodded and, with a slightly breathless voice, replied, “You can tell me anything, R-r-r-robby. You are my friend.”

Robby saw the sincerity in Zhenya’s eyes. He smiled gratefully, but his hands were tightly clasped. He took another deep breath and sighed.

“Ethan and I are boyfriends.”

Zhenya nodded.

“I know.”

“No, I mean, we are boyfriends like a boy and a girl are boyfriend and girlfriend. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I know what you mean. You are <<<insert Russian word for “homosexual” here>>>. You like boys instead of girls. You and Ethan love each other.”

Robby swallowed and looked down in shame. Zhenya reached across and took Robby’s hand in his.

“Is OK. I understand. You are my friend, R-r-r-robby.”

Robby looked up and saw the smile on Zhenya’s face.

“Thank you,” he sad softly.

“So, what has happened that makes you and Ethan unhappy with each other?”

Robby clasped his hands together again nervously and looked down at his lap.

“Ethan is smoking pot.”

Zhenya sighed and looked down.


Robby nodded.

“He wanted me to smoke some with him Friday night. He said that it makes… sex… better. I wouldn’t do it and he said he wouldn’t be my boyfriend anymore.”

Zhenya placed his hands on Robby’s knees and squeezed them. The touch sent a thrill through Robby, even through the pain he was feeling. He looked up and saw the pain and compassion in Zhenya’s eyes.

“And, what’s worse, he’s buying it from Matt and… I think the reason he knows it makes sex better is because he did it with Matt. I think he’s doing it with Matt right now instead of helping him with his Math test.”

Zhenya sighed and after a moment said, “I thought Sean and Matt were boyfriends.”

“How did you know about that?” Robby asked. Zhenya shrugged.

“I could see how Sean looked at Matt at the party and the way Matt protected Sean at school.”

Robby nodded.

“Well, after the party, Sean went over to Matt’s house and they smoked some of Matt’s pot and got crazy and had sex and then Matt freaked out about being gay and everything and threw Sean out and Sean freaked out scared because of the pot and… man, it all sounds like one of those stupid soap operas my Mom watches.”

Zhenya frowned and looked down.

“Sean is good guy. Why would he smoke drugs?”

Robby shook his head.

“He had a super crush on Matt, I guess, and wanted him to like him.”

Zhenya squeezed Robby’s knees again and smiled.

“You are worried about your boyfriend. Maybe we should talk to him. I will go with you.”

Robby shook his head.

“Ethan won’t listen. He’s too… independent. He does what he wants or what he thinks he should.”

The First Movement of The Ice Prince ended and the Second Movement began. Robby closed his eyes and listened as to the slow mournful beginning, slowly moving his head to the beat. Zhenya watched him, knowing what the boy was feeling inside as he listened. He knew that Robby loved this music and, suddenly, Zhenya felt the need to hug him, though he resisted it. Robby was so cute, he thought, with his red hair and freckles and green eyes. Zhenya had not known another boy who understood and loved music as he did since he had left Europe and come to America. American kids seemed so shallow to him, spoiled, not knowing how lucky they were. Not Robby, though. He seemed to feel things other boys didn’t, see things other boys missed.

Robby opened his eyes at the point where the Prince and the wolves began to dance. He saw Zhenya seemed to be staring at him, deep in thought, and, suddenly, Robby felt breathless.

Zhenya suddenly realized that he was staring at Robby and that his friend was looking back at him. Blushing and uncertain, he quickly looked at the record player and the shelf of albums underneath.

“So,” said Robby softly. “What’s been going on with you? You looked so sad and unhappy today at school. The concert was great. How was the party?”

Zhenya paused for a moment and then looked up at Robby with pain in his eyes.

“You were right about Ian.”

Robby’s eyes grew wide.

“What did he do?” he demanded.

“The party was wonderful. I met many wonderful people. I danced to wonderful music. It was wonderful.”

“Yeah. I got the idea. What happened?”

Zhenya looked down in shame.

“I can’t tell you.”

Robby climbed off the bed and walked over to the door. He looked up and down the hall and then closed the door. He returned to the bed and sat down beside Zhenya. He put an arm around the boy’s shoulder.

“What happened?”

Zhenya’s eyes filled with tears.

“He hurt me.”

Robby stiffened. His eyes narrowed and his breathing picked up.

“What did he do?” he asked with barely controlled anger. Zhenya couldn’t look up. He clutched his hands tightly and suddenly jumped up from the bed.

“I must go home,” he said as he grabbed his coat. Robby jumped up and grabbed him, wrapping his arms around the boy so that he couldn’t put his coat on. Zhenya struggled for a moment and then leaned on Robby. It was a moment before Robby realized Zhenya was crying softly.

Robby held him more gently.

“Zhenya, I’m you’re friend. You can trust me. You can tell me anything.”

Zhenya muttered something in unintelligible Russian and then pulled back. His red, watery eyes looked at Robby’s and he seemed to surrender.

“He… fucked me.”

Robby stood for a moment, not quite certain he had heard correctly.

“How?” he asked in complete bewilderment.

Zhenya looked carefully at Robby and realized the boy truly had no idea what he was talking about. Suddenly, his shame seemed to multiply a hundred fold. He looked downward and moaned.

“Zhenya! Talk to me? It’s OK. Tell me.”

Zhenya was frustrated. Besides the difficulty of explaining it in English was the very humiliation of explaining it at all.

“He… fucked me. He… forced me to… it hurt and… he wouldn’t stop. He was drunk and… he fucked me.”

“Oh, my God,” said Robby as realization struck. “He put his… in your… ?”

Zhenya nodded.

“Oh, my God! That’s sick! Oh, my God!”
“Robby, that is what… men who love men do. But, he wasn’t supposed to do it the way he did. He…”

“Wait. What are you saying? Gay guys are supposed to fuck up the butt? That’s just… gross! And, he did that to you?”

Zhenya pulled back, the hurt on his face renewed.

“I thought you said you were my friend?” he wailed as the pain, the shame, the embarrassment almost overwhelmed him.

“I am. I am,” Robby protested. “I just… didn’t know and… it’s just a shock… and that’s… I didn’t realize you were…”

“… like you and Ethan?”

Robby paused a moment.

“We never did… that,” he replied softly. Zhenya sat down in the chair by Robby’s desk as the third movement began on the record player.

“You hate me,” he said softly. Robby fell to his knees between Zhenya’s knees and took the boy’s hands in his.

“You are my friend. I am your friend. I’m sorry. I just didn’t know that’s what… gay people do. I thought it was just, you know, kissing and… jacking off and… sucking, you know.”

Robby was dreadfully embarrassed, but he was also outraged that Ian had hurt him/

“Ethan and I were so afraid that Ian would do something to hurt you, but we thought it would be something emotional. We never thought it would be something like this. Did you have to go to the hospital?”

Zhenya bit his lip and shook his head.

“I did not tell Papa. I couldn’t. Ian threatened me and said that if I told anyone he would make sure that we were sent back to Soviet Union and Papa would go to Sibersk.

“Siberia? He can’t do that! How would he do that?” Robby asked with outrage.

“He knows Judge Dietrich. And, he would also tell the world about… well, I cannot tell you.”

‘What?” Robby asked breathlessly. What other secret could this bastard have over poor Zhenya? The Russian boy scrunched his face up as if he were in pain and the sighed.

“Perhaps I can tell you. You will understand.”

Robby nodded and looked into Zhenya’s eyes.

“Well, the old book we have in our sitting room is the story Dmitri Koronov wrote about his life. It is, how you say, diary almost.”

“His autobiography?”

Zhenya nodded.

“It contains secrets that KGB sent my Uncle Misha to prison for. And, it tells story of Dmitri’s love for Prince Anatoly when he was boy and other things. Dmitri was man-lover like you and me and Ethan and he loved many men and boys and tells story of his loves in book. Papa says these secrets can never be told because world will hate Dmitri then and he was wonderful composer and we must honor him. Ian knows about book and says he will tell world about it.”

“What a bastard. So that’s why you didn’t go to Symphony practice today.”

“I am leaving Symphony. Papa doesn’t know yet, but I cannot tell Papa about Ian. He will kill him if I do.”

Robby’s eyes teared up. He stood and pulled Zhenya up. The two held each other, their heads resting on each other’s shoulders.

“Zhenya, Zhenya,” Robby whispered in his friend’s ear. Zhenya was overwhelmed. Robby cared. Robby, the passionate, sensitive, emotional Robby cared and was hugging him. Suddenly, Zhenya felt overwhelmed. How could he have fallen for Ian when there was true love right before him in the form of Robby? He had been so taken by the story of Dima and Tolyenka and he missed his beloved Stefan so much that he wanted to see Stefan and Prince Anatoly in Ian. But, there was nothing in Ian even close to those two. Nothing. But, Robby! Robby loved Dmitri’s music. He understood it. He was true. He was good. He was brave.

He also loved Ethan.

He pulled back and looked Robby in the eyes. He had an overwhelming need to kiss him, but Robby loved Ethan and it wouldn’t be right. They simply looked at each other and that seemed to say all that needed to be said.


Matt was sitting on his bed reading his Social Studies homework. Sure, it was Friday evening and he had the whole weekend ahead of him, but this stuff wasn’t as dull and boring as he thought it might be. It was almost pretty interesting. Besides, Ethan helped a lot, if you could just get him past the part where they got fucked up and then fucked around. Man, he had never seen anyone who loved to get high and have sex as much as Ethan. It was almost weird.

For a week, Ethan had been coming over everyday after school and, everyday, it was the same routine. They would get really fucked up and then have really hot sex and then they would work on whatever homework Matt needed help on. Matt liked to get high, but there was something just not right about the way Ethan liked it. And, he had changed, too.

Ethan never hung out with Ronald McDonald anymore. In fact, Matt was the only person at school, or anyplace else for that matter, that Ethan hung with. He had completely cut himself off from his friends; or, they had cut themselves off from him. He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was both.

He looked at the clock. Almost seven. Ethan would be there any minute now. Since it was Friday night, his Mom and her boyfriend would be at work until eleven and then they’d go out to some bar and get wasted before they came home. Hopefully, they’d go to their room and fuck and leave him alone. But, anyway, about six or seven hours of freedom. Lots of time for him to mess around with Ethan.

He wished it was Sean. With a pang in his heart and stomach, he thought of the sweet little guy, now so cold and distant and self-reliant. Man, he had really fucked up. He wanted to lay down with Sean and just hug and kiss and get all gooey. Instead, he’d probably get really wasted with Ethan and then get really nasty.

His dick twitched in his jeans. Tonight, Matt was going to fuck Ethan. For once, Matt was gonna be on top. For once, he wasn’t gonna be the butt boy for his Mom’s boyfriend or one of her clients paying for a hot boy butt to fuck. He was so God-damn sick of her making money off him. Man, if he could only live with Sean. He and his grampa sure had a nice life.

He started to tear up.

Fuck! He though angrily. He grabbed his pipe and took a hit. He had planned to wait until Ethan got there because he was tired of always being fucked up. But, he didn’t want to deal with these feelings right now.

He heard a familiar knock on the door and slowly crawled up to his feet. Ethan was, as expected, standing on the landing of the fire-escape, smiling expectantly.

“Come on in,” Matt said without much enthusiasm.

“I’ve got another ten dollars. You got another bag?” Ethan asked as he followed Matt into the living room. The teenager nodded.

“Dude, you sure went through that fast. Maybe you need to slow down a little.”

He handed a baggie to Ethan, who handed him a ten dollar bill and followed him to the bedroom in the back.

Naw, I’m fine. I can handle this. Everything’s cool.”

“Is it?” Matt asked as he flopped down on his bed.

“Sure it is,” replied Ethan confidently as he took off his coat. He sat down beside Matt and added, “Come on, fill that pipe. I’m ready for a little fun.”

As Matt slowly filled his pipe, he commented, “You know, none of your friends have anything to do with you any more. What’s up with that?”

“You’re my friend,” Ethan said defensively.

“You know what I mean,” said Matt. Ethan frowned.

“They’re just too middle class and backward. They aren’t cool. They don’t understand.”

Matt looked at him with disgust and shook his head.

“Man, you are so fucked, right now. You don’t even know what’s important.”

“What are you talking about?” Ethan demanded.

“Robby and Sean and Zhenya are cool friends. Robby is way cool. And, you’re willing to give it all up for this shit.”

“Well, listen to you. You’re the one selling it to me.”

Matt put the pipe down and looked away. Softly, he said, “You mind if we don’t smoke just yet? You think maybe instead of fucking around we could just, you know, like, maybe just lay next to each other? Maybe later, we could go down 15th and stand outside the Tap Room and listen to the band they got playing there? You know, just hang?”

Ethan looked uncomfortable.

“I thought you liked to have sex? What’s wrong?”

Matt looked at the mess on the floor. He swallowed and replied quietly, “Nothin’. OK. Here.”

He handed the pipe and some matches to Ethan.

“Naw. I don’t need any,” he replied when Ethan offered the pipe back to him.

It was nearly eleven when Ethan finally put his clothes back on and left. Matt, who had finally given in and gotten stoned, lay naked on the bed, covered with dried cum, both his and Ethan’s, feeling filthy and gross. He looked around at the mess of his room and took a hit from the pipe. He thought of Sean, probably sitting in his living room, snuggling with his grampa, reading some book. Matt’s eyes grew watering and he angrily threw his jeans from the bed across the room.

The door to the apartment opened. Matt remained motionless.

“Hey!” his mother drunkenly yelled. Why was she already drunk? She wasn’t supposed to get off from work until eleven. “You here?”

“Yeah,” Matt answered lethargically.

His mother, wearing dirty jeans and a denim jacket, her hair messed up and her eyes red, looked in the door. Matt made no attempt to cover himself.

“Get up and clean up. I gotta client comin’ over for ya. We need the money.”

“Why? You get fired again?”

“Shut up and take a fuckin’ bath. You look like a hustler.”


His mother stopped and looked back.

“Whad you say?”

“I said no.”

“That’s what I thought you said. Get the fuck up and take a fuckin’ bath before I slap you’re fuckin’ face! Now!”

Matt stood up shakily and grabbed a pair of dirty jeans. As he pulled them on, his mother looked at him in disbelief.

“I said take a God-damn bath!”

Matt ignored her as he pulled a sweatshirt on over his head. He sat on the floor and pulled on some sneakers without putting on socks and as he stood, he picked up his jacket off the chair. His drunken mother furiously marched across the floor and brutally slapped him. He fell against the bed and looked up at her, tears of fury and rage clouding his eyes.

“I ain’t letting you sell my ass no more!”

“You gotta earn your keep around here!” she screamed at him.

“Fuck you!” he spat as he grabbed the tube of K-Y on the desk and jammed it into the jacket pocket. If he was going to sell his ass, he was going to do it on his terms, not hers.

His mother followed him into the hallway and the living room. As he was opening the door to the outside, he grabbed him and threw him against the television, cutting his forehead. He fell to the floor and clutched the bleeding gash on his forehead. He looked at the woman with such intense anger that she backed up silently. He crawled to his feet and went to the door. With one final look of hatred, he stepped out and closed the door.

For hours, it seemed, he walked around the slushy sidewalks and streets of the neighborhood, past the bars and clubs and eateries catering to the students at Sheffield College. He stopped at one all night diner and a cook he knew there gave him some leftovers. As the area cleared after the bars and clubs closed, he crossed 15th to the campus and sat on a bench between some of the dorms, shivering and working at maintaining his anger so he wouldn’t start crying.

As the sky started to lighten, he realized he needed some sleep and he couldn’t do that in the middle of the Sheffield College campus. Wearily, he stood and walked south, crossing 15th. He soon found himself approaching school. At the corner of 18th and Sycamore, he looked over at Sean’s house, the neat red-brick two story house, so neat and tidy, so Sean-like, and despite his best efforts, he started crying. Furious with himself, he stormed across the street and toward the bleachers at the side of the school. On a Saturday morning in November, there would be nobody around. He could lay on one of the benches, protected from the wind, in the sunshine, and sleep without freezing to death. Even though it was incredibly cold, the sunlight would warm him.

It was late afternoon when he finally awoke. He was stiff from laying on the hard wooden bench and, despite the sunlight in the protected area, his fingers and toes were numb. Shivering, he stood and staggered across the grounds of the school.

Maybe he should just lay down and freeze to death. What the fuck was left to do? Nobody gave a shit about him. Sure as Hell not his mom. Ethan just used him for pot and sex. Sean, the only person who had ever shown him love, hated him now. There really was nothing left.

He stood on one of the cleared walkways around the school and stared across the street at Sean’s house. He could smell food cooking and his hunger suddenly exploded within. There were lights on inside the house. He thought of the boy and his grampa going about their quiet, peaceful life within. He thought of the Hell his life had been, drugs, sex, anger, abuse.

There was nothing left but to die.

Without thinking, he crossed the street and walked behind the wooden privacy fence. In a corner beside the back porch, he sat down and curled up. It gave him comfort to know that as he lay there waiting to freeze, knowing the temperature would fall to the teens before morning, his Sean was inside, safe, secure, and loved.

It was dark when Matt jumped. The back door opened. From below, he watched Sean carrying a paper bag of garbage descending the stairs.

He had to get out of there. Sean would surely see him when he came back from the garbage cans by the garage. As the blond boy was occupied with the garbage, Matt staggered up and attempted to run to the side. But he tripped and fell, pain shooting through his right foot. He cried out.

Sean turned in fear and said, “Who’s there?”

He saw the prone figure on the ground and, in fear, grabbed a rake leaning against the side of the garage. He raised it protectively and yelled, “Get out of here!”

Matt raised his arms protectively and cried, “Don’t hit me! Please! Don’t hit me!”

Sean was stunned when he realized it was Matt. He looked in awe at the prone figure laying in the snow before him.


“Don’t hit me, I’m leaving.”

The teenager scrambled up, but slipped in the snow again. He began trembling uncontrollably and stumbled again as he struggled to crawl away.

“Matt? What happened?” Sean asked as he saw the dried blood on Matt’s forehead. Matt collapsed in the snow, shaking violently, unable to speak. Sean dropped the rake and fell to his knees beside the prone figure. He clutched desperately at Matt’s coat. Trying to turn him over.

“Matt! Matt! Speak to me!” he cried. The teenager could only tremble and look up at the boy in terror.

“Granddad! Help! Help!” Sean screamed as he tried to make Matt sit up. “Granddad!”

Matt looked up at Sean in fear as the boy put a hand to the teenager’s face.

“What happened?”

Matt could say nothing. He merely trembled.

Sean’s grandfather appeared in the doorway and looked at the scene below him in shock.

“Oh, my goodness,” he declared as he hurried down the wooden concrete steps.

“What’s happened?”

“It’s my friend, Matt! I don’t know. He’s bleeding and he’s freezing to death!”

Together, the two struggled to get Matt up to his feet and to guide him across the yard to the steps. Carefully, they almost carried him up the steps and into the mudroom.

“Get his clothes off him. They’re wet and frozen. Hurry!”

Soon Matt, still violently shivering, was standing naked in the mudroom.

“Sean, son, get a hot bath started. Come, Matt, we must get you to the fire.”

Sean ran from the room as Anders Lindquist led the violently shaking Matt through the kitchen and dining room into the living room and to the roaring fireplace. He sat the boy on the floor before the fire and hurried to the closet in the foyer for a blanket. When he returned, Matt was still shaking, but not as greatly. He could hear the water running in the bathroom upstairs. He draped the blanket over Matt, open toward the fire to allow the heat to build up inside. He vigorously rubbed Matt’s hands and feet to restore circulation and the boy cried out in pain.

“I know it hurts, son, but we must do this,” he said soothingly. Soon, Sean ran down the stairs.

“The bathtub’s ready, Granddad,” he said breathlessly as he hurried over.

“Help me get him up,” his grandfather said, putting his arms under Matt’s and lifting him up. The teenager was able to stand and the blanket fell away. They led the naked boy through the living room and up the stairs until they came to the bathroom. Carefully, Matt stepped into the hot water, crying out from the heat, but slowly working himself into the water.

“That’s it, that’s it. You must warm up. Sean, keep adding hot water as it cools. I will make some hot broth for your friend. Rub his hands and feet for a bit to restore the circulation.”

The gentleman quickly disappeared and Sean took Matt’s hands in his and began to rub them.

“What happened, Matt? Are you OK?” he asked fearfully. The teenager looked down at the bathtub in shame and said nothing.

“Matt, talk to me. What happened?”

A shudder burst through the teenager and he coughed. Sean unrolled some toilet paper and held it to the boy’s nose as he blew.

“I had to leave. I had to. My Mom… she was… she…”

Matt couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He looked down in shame and closed his eyes. Sean bit his lip. He opened the drain and turned on the hot water again, warming the tub up before closing the drain and turning off the water. Soon, Sean’s grandfather returned with a cup of broth and gave it to Matt. The teenager sipped it and nodded his thanks. Sean, sitting on the floor beside the tub looked at his grandfather, who knelt beside the tub with a rag. He cleaned the wound on Matt’s forehead and stood to open the medicine cabinet. He leaned back down with iodine and warned the boy. Matt nodded and cried out as the elderly man applied the medicine. After changing out the water a second time, Anders left the bathroom and returned with a heavy robe and some house slippers. Matt stood uncertainly and, together, Sean and his grandfather helped the boy dry himself before slipping the robe over his shoulders. Sean couldn’t help letting his eyes roam over Matt’s body.

When they he was seated in a heavy chair pulled up in front of the fire, Sean’s grandfather brought a tray in and set in his lap. Before him was a plate with warmed up roast with potatoes, carrots, and green peppers along with a roll and a glass of milk. Matt said nothing, but ate ravenously. Sean and his grandfather sat on the couch and watched with pity and concern as the teenager devoured the food and milk. When he was finished, Anders stood and removed the tray. As he walked back to the kitchen, Matt looked at Sean, who was kneeling beside the chair, and softly asked, “Do you still hate me?”

“No. I don’t hate you,” Sean replied, taking the teenager’s hand in his. “I don’t hate you. What happened? Please tell me. We can help.”

Matt bit his lip and looked at his lap. He pulled the robe together, shivering despite the heat from the fireplace.

“My Mom. She… makes me… sometimes… well, guys pay her, sometimes… to… do shit with me.”

The shame was almost too much for Matt.

“It’s OK,” said Sean softly, squeezing Matt’s hand. “It’s OK.”

“No, it’s not! It’s not OK. It’s never gonna be OK!” Matt replied hotly. “She hates me! When I said no, last night, she…”

It was too shameful to Matt to admit that his mother had hit him. He looked down in utter humiliation.

After a moment, he looked up, his eyes moist, and gazed into those of the other boy.

“Sean, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I really didn’t. I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. I… love… you.”

Sean’s mouth opened, but he said nothing. He looked at Matt as tears streamed down his face.

“I love you, too, Matt.

Anders had returned to the living room. He sat on the edge of the couch, a look of sympathy and concern on his face.

“Granddad, can Matt stay here for a few days?” Sean asked. His grandfather looked gravely at the two for a moment, and then stood.

“Sean, come help me in the kitchen. We’ll make some hot cocoa for the three of us.”

As his grandfather walked from the room, Sean looked back at Matt and winked solemnly before following.

“What is this boy’s story?” he asked as he pulled a pan from the cabinet.

“Granddad, he’s this really nice guy who has been sort of my bodyguard at school. He’s really tough and everybody’s scared of him. But, underneath everything, he’s a real good guy. His mom is awful. She makes him… have sex with men for money and…”

His grandfather looked at him with shock.

“…and last night, he said no and she beat him up. I think he’s been outside the whole time. We have to help him, Granddad. We have to.”

“You were holding hands,” his grandfather said softly before pouring milk into the pan.

“Yes, Granddad. We were.”

His grandfather turned on the gas and looked at Sean.

“Is there something you want to tell me, my Sean?”

The boy swallowed and thought for a moment before looking back up and saying, “Matt’s had a really rough life, but he’s a good person and… I think… he’s sort of like for me what… Christian was for you.”

Sean was afraid to look up. He nervously clutched his hands as he sat before the kitchen table. After a moment, his grandfather walked over and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and squeezed.

“Then we shall do all we can to help him.”


Sean was putting a final log on the fire as his grandfather turned off the lamp, leaving the living room darkened and bathed by the golden red flames in the fireplace. Matt was sitting on the floor before the fire, still in his robe, leaning back against the couch.

“Now, you boys don’t stay up too late talking. We have much to do tomorrow. I want to go to Sears in the morning and get Matt some new clothes. And, I need to talk with Pastor about what he thinks we should do. OK?”

“Yes, Granddad,” Sean said looking back. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Good night.”

The man went up the stairs, leaving the two boys alone in the living room. Sean finished stirring the embers and a good flame was warming them. He closed the screen and scooted across the floor to sit beside Matt. He was now, like Matt, wearing only a robe. The older boy put his arm around him and Sean leaned his head over and laid it against Matt’s shoulder. The teen looked down at the boy and smiled.

“I missed you so bad. I wanted you so bad.”

“I’m sorry,” Sean whispered. “I should have listened to you.”

“Naw. I understand. I was a real dick to you. Man, I can’t believe you racked me so good that one time. Fuck, that hurt!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Naw, You were right. But, if you had been anyone else, I’d have kicked your ass from here to tomorrow.”

Sean grinned as he looked up at Matt.

“I know. And, I thought that was going to happen. That’s when I realized you really loved me.”

Matt raised an eyebrow.

“Well, how come you still acted mad?”

Sean shrugged and looked downward.

“I felt so different. I mean, like I felt strong and powerful and like… like people respected me. I’d never felt like that before.”

Matt looked down bitterly.

“I’m so sorry. Man, Sean, you are strong and powerful and respected. And, I’m gonna be your buddy from now on and I’ll help you be strong and powerful. We’ll work out and I’ll teach ya to defend yourself and you’re gonna teach me how to be… well, respectable and stuff. How’s that?”

Brad wrapped his arm around Sean and looked down into the boy's blue eyes. He sighed and shook his head.

"Sean, you make me want to be a better person."

Sean's eyes teared up. Matt continued.

"I don't want to live like I did. I don't want to live in a dump. I don't want to smoke pot and hustle my ass for my old lady. I want to do good in school. I want to make something of myself."

He stopped. He couldn't speak for a moment as he looked away at the fire. Sean snuggled closer and waited.

"Tonight, I was gonna let myself freeze to death. I just didn't see no way that anything would get better. And, then you and your grampa saved me and... Sean, I love you. There's always been something special about you, but the last couple of weeks, you been showing some real backbone and... man, you are something else. You and your grampa. I hate to ask this, but, do you think maybe, and if you say no, that's cool. I'll understand why you would. It'd be all kinds of trouble, though I could earn my keep and stay out of the way and all, but... maybe, could I live here?"

Sean crawled up in front of Matt and straddled his legs, facing the teenager. With his robe only partially closed, he wrapped his arms around Matt and kissed him deeply on the mouth. After a moment, he rested his head on Matt's shoulder.

"Granddad and I have already talked about it. You're going to stay with us until we figure out what to do. He wants to talk to a lawyer about being your guardian. He thinks that if he talks to your mother, she might be persuaded not to fight it. I think there's all sorts of reasons for your mom to be scared about fighting it, so I think it's a pretty good bet you're going to be living here from now on."

Matt said nothing, but looked out into the dark beyond the glow of the fireplace. He bit his lip as he held Sean. He couldn't help it; he hadn't cried since he was a young boy, but his nose became runny and his eyes teared up as he clung to Sean. He could say nothing. Sean knew not to embarrass Matt. He simply lay against his big buddy, feeling his arms around him, his warmth, his love.

It could have been fifteen minutes; it could have been an hour, but after awhile, Sean sat up and looked into Matt's eyes.

"You're going to live with us, Matt."

The thirteen year-old nodded and sniffed.

"Yeah. Thank you."

Sean smiled as he gazed at his friend's face.

"Would you like me to make you feel good?" he asked.

Matt smiled and replied, "No. I want to make you feel good."

With his arms bracing Sean from behind, Matt leaned forward and set his friend on the floor. Sean's legs were open with Matt in between. His robe was open to reveal that he was naked within. His penis was erect and bobbing over his abdomen. Matt looked down and smiled.

"I think you're the coolest dude I ever met," he said. Sean grinned.

"You are,too," he replied.

"I think it's your turn to start feeling good."

Sean giggled.

"I always felt good when I was making you feel good. I love to do it. I really do."

Matt crawled up on his knees, his own erection pushing out from between the folds of his robe.

"I know, Little Buddy. I know. But, I want to do this for you. I want to show you how much I love you."

However, he suddenly sat back on his feet and looked seriously toward Sean.

"I gotta know something, though," he asked. "Is your grampa OK with you and me, you know? I mean, since he's, like, you know..."

Sean smiled and nodded.

"I told him. He knows. You see that picture up there on the mantle?"

Matt looked where Sean was pointing, but could see nothing in the shadow. He stood, his robe falling open and revealing his naked body beneath. He reached up and grasped the picture of Christian. Sitting back down between Sean's legs, he looked at it.

"He was my Granddad's first real love. His name was Christian. Granddad grew up in this house and Christian grew up in Robby's house across the street. They were boyfriends just like us and just like Robby and Ethan."

With the mention of Ethan's name, Matt frowned, which did not go unnoticed by Sean, who continued.

"He and Christian used to sit right here in front of the fireplace and play chess. And, you know what? I think when they were our age, they probably sat right here and did what we're going to do, too."

Matt looked at the picture of the young soldier, so proud, so handsome in his World War One uniform. He tried to imagine him as a thirteen year-old, blond, cute, naked, loving the young thirteen year-old Anders Lindquist on the carpet before the hearth. He looked away from the photograph at the naked chubby boy before him, laying on his robe, looking upward, his face almost looking like an angels. There seemed something so right about what was happening. He set the picture on the carpet beside the chair and leaned over Sean.

"Here's to Christian and your grampa," he said as he leaned forward and took Sean's erection in his mouth. Sean looked as if he had been shocked. His eyes and mouth both opened wide and he clawed the carpet beneath him as Matt's mouth slowly and lovingly moved up and down his boner.

Sean's hands took hold of Matt's head and caressed his face. He ran his fingers through the teenager's long, brown hair. He moaned as Matt's tongue slid across the sensitive underside of his penis.

Matt pulled off and looked up at Sean with a mischevious grin.

"Feel good?" he asked.

Sean's only answer was a sweet grin. Matt's smiled back and went back down. He licked all around Sean's smooth balls and within moments, the boy was writhing and twisting in ecstasy under the loving tongue of his buddy.

Sean cried out as Matt's tongue moved lower, licking and loving the sensitive area beneath his balls and between them and his anus. Sean had never felt anything like this before. He knew Matt was more experienced, but this was mind-blowing. Matt kissed his balls and licked all around. When he moved lower, he glanced up for a second at Sean's face and saw the look of utter amazement. He grinned and reached back. Taking hold of Sean's feet, he lifted his legs in the air and exposed his butt. He looked down and grinned, knowing how Sean would react in just a few seconds. Slowly, be bent down.

As Sean felt Matt's warm breath on his butt, he cried out in shock; but, it was nothing compared to what happened when Matt's tongue touched his anus.

"Oh, God! Oh, Matt! Oh, oooooh!"

Matt grinned as he tongued the quivering anus. Sean was twisting and squirming like crazy beneath him. He scooted under the boy, supporting his hips with his knees and caressing his thighs with his hands as his mouth and tongue made love to Sean's anus.

Finally, he sat up and looked down at Sean's delirious face. His rigid erection was bobbing fiercely between his legs and pointed directly at Sean's face. It was such a beautiful sight.

"Where's my coat," Matt asked. Sean looked at him as if he were crazy.

"It's in the mudroom. Are you cold?"

Matt grinned and ran naked from the living room. When he returned, he was carrying a small tube of something.

"K-Y," he said. "I thought I might have to do a little work to survive when I left home."

Sean shook his head, mystified.

"What are you talking about?"

Matt looked at him and realized that Sean really didn't know what he was referring to. When he mentioned hustling his ass for his mother, Sean truly had not understanding of what he meant.

"I'm gonna do something for you that will blow you away."

Matt sat down between Sean's legs and lifted them up again.

"You liked it when I licked your butt?"

Sean's eyes rolled upward.

"It was heaven!"

Matt grinned.

"Then I think you'll like this."

He squirted some of the lotion on his finger and rubbed at around Sean's anus. The boy squirmed and sighed.

"Ah, Matt. That is so wild. I never thought..."

"Just wait a second," Matt said. Suddenly, he pushed his finger inside and Sean's eyes grew wide.

"Oh, wow, that's... oh, oh, OH!"

Matt worked it around and pushed it in and out until Sean was writhing uncontrollably.

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, God, Matt. Ahhhhhh!"

Matt chuckled and added a second finger.

"You like this, Little Buddy?"

Sean responded by grabbing his cock and wildly jacking himself. Matt stopped him.

"Uh, uh, uh. Believe it or not, I'm gonna make you cum without you ever touching your dick."

Sean looked wildly up at Matt in disbelief as he squirmed and moaned. Matt continued to work his fingers in and out and around Sean's butt. When he added a third finger, Sean almost screamed.

"Shhh! You're gonna wake your grampa!" he admonished.

Sean bit his fist as he writhed under Matt's relentless prodding.

"Little Buddy, I'm gonna fuck you now. It might hurt at first. In fact, it's probably gonna hurt a lot at first, but it's gonna feel real good soon and you're gonna love it. I'll be real careful and real gentle and if you want me to stop, just say so."

Sean couldn't believe his ears. Matt was going to fuck him? Up the butt? Matt was going to fuck his butt? What a horrible, disgusting idea!

"Fuck me," he whispered. Matt grinned.

Matt lifted Sean's legs up and braced his butt against his thighs. His erection pointed out over Sean's body

"Give me your hand," he said. Sean reached up and Matt squirted some K-Y on it.

"Put it all over my dick," he said. Sean grinned and did as he was told. With both hands, he rubbed and caressed Matt's cock, causing the older boy groan and breath heavily as he thrust his hips forward.

"Fuck me," Sean whispered. Matt grabbed his feet and held them up as he pulled back and positioned the head of his dick at Sean's anus. The first couple of times, it slid upward and Sean moaned as he felt it slide against his anus. Matt let go of Sean's left foot and held his dick against the hole. Slowly, he pushed. Sean gasped as the head of Matt's dick pressed against his anus.

"Just relax, Little Buddy. I'll take it easy," he said reassuringly. When the head was pushed in far enough, he took hold of Sean's foot again and pushed his hips forward.

"Uhhhhh!" Sean cried. Matt held steady, not moving, his face cringing in ecstasy. Sean's butt felt so good, so tight, so hot.

"It's OK, Sean. It's OK. I'm taking it easy. You can do it. You can take it," he gasped, trying not to lose control and simply fuck all the way in. He waited, allowing Sean to become used to the intrusion.

For his part, Sean's pain was exquisite. It hurt, but Matt was in him! Matt! His Matt was inside him! He looked up at his Big Buddy's face, saw the lust, the power, the love, and all he wanted was for Matt to push all the way in.

After a moment, Matt slowly pushed a bit further, the head of his cock forcing its way past a barrier. Sean, grunted and cried and then... it was as if a doorway had been passed.

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" Sean cried. Matt pushed and in a second, he was all the way in. His hips were pressed against Sean's butt and Sean was groaning. Matt was all the way in. His head fell backward.

"Oh, Sean! Oh, Sean! I'm in you, Little Buddy! I'm in you!"

"Oh, God, Matt! It hurts. It hurts. Oh, god."

"Do you want me to pull out?"

"No! No! Just, wait. Oh, oh. Ahhhhh!"

Matt looked downward as he held Sean's feet up in the air, his hips pressed hard against the upraised butt of his little buddy. Sean's erection had deflated, but Matt watched in amazement as it suddenly began to grow and stiffen again. Soon, it was rigidly throbbing over Sean's tummy again.

Sean seemed to relax and a smile grew on his face as he cringed.

"Fuck me," he forced himself to say.

Slowly, Matt withdrew and then pushed forward again.

"Uhhh!" Sean grunted, not knowing if it was from pain or pleasure. "Uhhh!"

Matt groaned as well, the heat and pressure on his cock growing.

"Oh, Sean, you butt is so hot. Oh, God, I love you. I love you, Sean."

"Fuck me, Matt. Fuck me," Sean whispered over and over as Matt slid in and out.
Suddenly, something seemed to change. Drastically. Sean was suddenly writhing uncontrollably beneath Matt.

"Ah, yeah. Fuck me," he whispered, over and over. "Fuck me."

And, Matt did. Faster and faster, he pushed against Sean, entering and pulling out, entering and pulling out.

"Oh, God, you're so tight," he whispered. "Oh, Sean, I love you! I love you! I love you!"

Suddenly, Sean bucked and his hips churned. His boner started throbbing and he tried to cry, but nothing could come out.

Matt could feel Sean's butt spasming around his boner as he wildly fucked into the boy.

"Ah, fuck!" he cried as he came in the boy. Sean was writhing and churning and twisting beneath him as Matt fucked hard into the boy. Finally, he collapsed atop the panting Sean, gasping for breathing, sweaty and breathless, his erection still impaling his little buddy.

"Matt," Sean whispered. "Matt, Matt, Matt."

"Ah, Little Buddy, I love you, I love you."

And, upstairs, in his bed, holding his book, tears streaming down his face, Sean's grandfather heard the cries of his grandson and remembered a night more than fifty years before he, too, had known what his beloved Sean had just experienced, when he, too, had felt the love and passion that Sean had just found. He set his book aside and turned off his reading lamp, closing his eyes and seeing the face of his sweet Christian before him.