The standard disclaimers apply. Do not read if you are under 18, if it is illegal for you to, or if you are offended by boys engaging in consentual sex. Otherwise, enjoy.

Journey Of Love

Chapter 19

He's started reading this. My lover, that is. He has started reading this thing that I've been doing to help myself. And it feels good to have him read it. These are my words and my feelings and it has been important for him to know them.

It's also been exhilarating and frustrating. And it has led to some great sex. Taking out frustrations is a wonderful release. Hard, pounding, driving sex. Sweaty, wet, soaking sex. Dripping, spurting sex. Over and over, reusing the cum to lubricate the next round sex. Even though you're sore you keep going sex. Can't get enough sex. Mouth open, hands clasped sex. Tear the sheets off the bed and fuck on the bare mattress sex. Take and nap and fuck some more sex. Fall asleep with his cock in your mouth sex. Fuck till you're covered in cum sex. Hard, pounding, driving sex.

Then there are the tender moments, too. I have so much. So very much. More and more.

The party was great. The excuse for the party was my being released from therapy. It had been a long, often painful road. And my buds stood by me all the way -- literally. Every day one of them would be with me at therapy -- Danny, Kyle, Greg, Richie. Loyal to the last moment. So we and our friends celebrated our accomplishment. They nursed me back to health. I worked to get there.

It got way late. Becky's older brother came to get her and ended up staying to party with us (no beer, of course). So by the time everyone left it was about 1:00 a.m. I was tired, Danny could hardly keep his eyes open, Greg and Kyle were almost falling asleep. Only Richie was wide awake, but he's hyper anyway. Greg's mom came into the basement to see the last of the people off.

"Why don't you guys just stay down here tonight?" she asked. "It's so late. You shouldn't all be going home now and waking up your folks."

We all agreed it sounded like a great idea. She pulled out a sofa-sleeper (I think everyone in our neighborhood had these things), got a cot out of a storage area, and inflated a double-size air mattress, then got out sheets and blankets.

"Okay, guys, let's draw straws to see who sleeps where," I said. We'd done this before.

"Well, okay," Greg said, "but since it's my house ..." We could all see where THIS was going. He was gong to take the sofa-sleeper. "I say that Justin and Danny sleep on the pull-out because Justin is the guest of honor and Danny is his boyfriend."

And you know what? In the weeks since we'd come out to the guys, no one had said that out loud. It sounded weird. Unreal. I have to admit it sounded a bit unnatural and scary. I WAS his boyfriend, but I don't think I had even thought of it as an out-loud sort of thing. I looked at Danny and he had the sort of look I had felt. I must have had the same look.

"C'mon, you guys," Greg said. "We're all okay with it. You know that. I know you get to sleep together now and then, but not usually under very happy circumstances. Tonight you can have the pull-out bed and not have to worry about anything." Greg had been the first one to find out about my sleep-overs at Danny's when my parents fought.

"Thanks, Greg," Danny said quietly.

"Let's draw straws for the other spots," Greg said, but Richie stopped him.

"Naw. Let's just work it out. Who wants to sleep on the cot?" he asked. Kyle raised his hand. "Okay, Kyle gets the cot, and Greg and I will share the air mattress."

Wow. Richie had reacted the worst to our coming-out, and here he was willing to sleep next to Greg. Now, like I said, we had slept like this before, but before anything sexual was attached to it. And I don't really think anything sexual was attached to it this time, except with Danny and me. But Kyle sleeping alone was logical, because he was dating Becky. Greg was okay with all of this because, well, I don't know why. He and Danny had slept together and had sex while I was in the hospital, and he may be wondering about his sexuality. Richie had reacted violently to finding out we were boyfriends, and had left our group, gotten into drugs briefly, and come back. Maybe he needed some sort of contact.

And maybe I was just over-analyzing. Fucket. I just wanted to go to bed. We all stripped to our shorts, and climbed under the covers. Fall was definitely here, and the basement of Greg's house was chilly at night. But Danny snuggled next to me and together we got warm. I heard Kyle, alone on the cot, shiver and say "Brrr," and then Richie sat up and tossed one of his covers over to Kyle.

"Here, you might need this more than we do, all alone on your cot." Interesting. He and Greg would keep each other warm? Danny and I would, I knew.

"It was really a great party, guys," I said. "Thanks."

Greg gave a sort of embarrassed laugh. "Aw, that's okay. We just needed a good excuse for a party. You were handy."

We all got a laugh over that.

Danny snuggled closer and nestled his cock against me. In the dim light I could see Kyle wrap himself tighter in his blanket. And I could hear Richie and Greg whispering to each other, moving around in the bed, and then settle down.

And we were asleep.

True to form, Richie was up and out the door early, on his morning jog. Kyle was burrowed under the covers of his cot. Greg was rolled into a tight fetal position. Danny's hard cock was lodged against my butt and his arm was around me, his hand covering one of my nipples. My cock was hard, too.

It was that sleepy wake-up time in the morning when you sort of engage in conversations but no one minds if you drift back off to sleep.

"You guys sleep okay?" Greg asked.

"Mmpphs mphmpphhp," Kyle replied from under the covers..

"Uh-huh," I said. Danny was strumming my nipple. I was getting horny.

We laid there for a while longer just sorta jiving on each other. Richie came crashing into the house and down the stairs. Sleep was no longer possible once hyperboy exploded onto the scene. It wouldn't do any good to bitch at him, he was used to it after all these years. So we slowly extricated ourselves from the bedclothes (Danny and I from each other), pulled on yesterday's clothes, and made our way upstairs to breakfast, knowing that as soon as we dispersed we'd go back to bed. All but Richie. He'd probably be mowing the lawn soon.

Greg's mom didn't disappoint. Pancakes, bacon, sausage (yes, both -- it was the Midwest), warmed syrup. Oh, and orange juice. We were growing boys, so we stuffed ourselves. She just laughed and poured more batter on the griddle.

We cleaned up the basement -- sorta -- gathered our stuff up and thanked Greg's mom for the party. I did especially.

"You don't need to do that," she said. "You boys are such good friends, it's a joy to do it for you."

Neat, huh?

Danny and I went over to his place. It was bound to be quieter, even with Charlie around.

We went to Danny's room, stripped naked and slipped under the covers. But since everyone was up and about, we didn't try to make love. We simply stroked each other, and came in each other's hands. Danny talked the whole time he was jacking me off, urging me to cum for him. The post-orgasm drowsiness quickly came over us, and we drifted off to sleep.

Something woke me up. Maybe a noise in the house, maybe Danny rolled over. Anyway, I was instantly awake, and I knew I wasn't going to get back to sleep. So I quietly got out of bed, got dressed, and went out to the kitchen.

Mrs. Shaw wasn't there, but I heard the washing machine running in the laundry room. She was there, taking a load out of the dryer and hanging up the shirts, folding other clothes. She looked up when I came into the room.

"Hi. Can't sleep?"

"No. Something woke me up and I didn't want to disturb Danny. Anyway, I've had enough sleep."

"I'll be done here in a moment. Then I'll get you something to eat."

"No, that's okay. I don't need anything. We had a big breakfast over at Greg's."

"Well, then you can have a snack with me."

I leaned against the door while she folded. That was the great thing. You didn't feel like you had to keep up a conversation with her. She made the silence feel comfortable. I mean, if you think about it, people are uncomfortable with silence. We have to fill it up. I guess we get scared that the other person will feel we're dull or stupid, so we just talk to fill up the space -- and usually prove that fear correct. Not with Fran. Around her, silence was comforting. I think it was because some of those times I came over to their house I'd be pretty upset. She'd sit up with me, holding me or rocking me, trying to quiet me. After all the noise at my house, the silence at Danny's was precious, and I wanted to preserve it.

Mrs. Shaw poured us some iced tea and got out some cookies and then we went into the family room. I don't know where Mr. Shaw and Charlie were, but it was quiet. Only the sound of the washer and dryer could be heard. She sat on the sofa and patted the cushion next to her, so I sat down beside her.

She was looking out the window. Thinking.

"You and Danny seem as close as ever," she said softly.

"Yeah, I guess so. He was so gr-great while I was in the hospital. And afterward." My voice caught on "great." "He's always been that way."

"Yes, he has. He was pretty special as a kid. Now as a teenager, he still is. None of the problems you read about in newspapers or see on TV. None of you kids, really." I didn't want to tell her about Richie's fling with drugs. Mostly because I didn't want Richie to get into trouble. He seemed to be over it. But also because she'd start asking questions, and I was afraid that I'd slip and tell her Richie was ostracized from us because of his reaction to the news that Danny and I were lovers.

"You've been a good friend to him, too, Justin. He's different when you're not around."


"Well, just that, I don't know, like he's a little lost. Or scared. Something."

"Scared? He's always been my comfort when I'm scared."

"I just mean, he's not, I don't know, complete. Something. But I think it's different now. Since that big fight you two had last spring. You are closer than ever. Like there's more of a bond. More spiritual. Something's happened between you two. It's more than bonding I think it's more than love."

And then I knew. She knew. I didn't know what to say. I looked at her, and then away quickly.

"Why don't you go wake up Danny," she said. "Let's talk."

"Yeah, okay."

I walked slowly down the hall, my jeans dragging on the floor in my bare feet. We hadn't been able to keep our love a secret from anyone. We didn't want to come out, but we had already to Becky, Kyle, Greg and Richie. Now we were going to have to tell his mom. Would we be able to stop there?

I eased the door open. Danny's room was dark. It had that smell like a dark room where a teenager has been sleeping -- sort of musty-stale, but with the smell of Danny. It made me calmer, as it always had. My lover's essence hung in the dark, slightly stale air.

I sat on the bed next to him. His back was to me and I wanted to reach under the blanket and run my finger down his butt to that sweet delicious pucker. I wanted to work my finger slowly into him and wake him by massaging his prostate. But his mom was waiting. I eased him onto his back and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. I caressed his hair and kissed him again. Then I laid my head next to his and gently called his name, several times until he stirred.

"Wake up, lover," I said as he opened his eyes. "Time to get up."

"What time is it?"

"About three o'clock." He stretched his smooth body under me, arms above his head, his back winding back and forth, his legs taut under the covers, which came to just above the most gorgeous cock god had ever made.

He turned his head to kiss me. "Just in time for sex," he giggled sleepily.

I hated to do this to him. I didn't want him to have a sudden shock. But I had to deter him from that line of action.

"Not right now, lover," I said. "Your mom wants to talk to us."

"What about? Are they going out of town so we can have the house to ourselves?" he asked hopefully. I didn't want to tell him that would probably never happen again as long as we lived at home. Not now that she knows.

Oh, fuck! If she knows she might not ever let us sleep together again. If she knows, we may never be allowed to have time to ourselves. If she knows she may never trust us to be alone together again. If she knows, she may not let me slide into bed with Danny at night, fleeing my parents, just when I need him most. Was our love going to ruin this? I wouldn't survive. I've sought refuge in Danny's bed for almost ten years. It was never about sex. It was safety. It was a place to go. It was about Danny and his ability to comfort me. To make me able to sleep. He had kept me sane all these years. I honestly think I would have exploded amid all the anger in my house if I hadn't been able to come to Danny. He loved me. Before there was sex, before there was talk of love, he loved me. He gave up his bed to me hundreds of times. That's no small thing. He could have had a bed to himself. I had been invading his privacy all those years. I had been invading his space. And he never once said anything about it. He never complained. He never even asked me to scoot over and give him more room.

All this was going to end. Fran may let me still come over, but she would make me sleep on the couch. She wouldn't abandon me completely. I bet she'd leave a blanket by the couch from now on so I could sleep there. Sure, I know she would. But that wouldn't be enough. I needed Danny on those nights. It was more than getting out of my house, it was finding a warm, loving body. Danny was always that. He was the human contact I craved. No, not craved, desperately needed.

I know I've said that Danny and I had had some small fights over the years. We never stayed mad at each other for long. All boys have those times. But it never kept me from seeking him when the noise got too loud at my house, and it never prevented him from moving over so I'd have a warm spot in his bed.

Wow. I didn't realize till just now that he did that. Every time I came over to his house, into his room, and climbed under the covers with him, he scootched over and left me the spot he'd warmed with his body. Just one more example of how he took care of me.

I was going to miss that.

"Hey. Space boy. Come back to earth," he said with a laugh in his voice. "What does she want to talk to us about?"

I didn't want to come back to reality. I wanted to stay in the warm past, where it was secure.

"Uh, Danny, um, I think she knows."

"Knows what?" He was a little slow when he was just waking up.

"Uh, um, she knows."

"Knows what?"

"Danny, she knows about us. Love. Sex."

The smile vanished and it was replaced with a look of fear.

"She said that?"

"No, not exactly."

"Then how do you know?"

"Cuz I just do. I mean, she said she thinks we've grown closer lately, more spiritual. Then she told me to come wake you up so we could all talk."

"Well that doesn't . . ."

"Yes, it does," I interrupted. "It does mean that. She knows, Danny. Oh, god. What are we going to do?"

"I don't know. I guess we have to talk to her. IF she wants to talk, we gotta talk."

"It's all over, isn't it? It's all going to end. I won't be able to sleep with you any more." I was losing it. I started shaking.

"Justin, stop. Yes you will. I dunno. Yes. Yes you will. You need to, Justin. She knows that." I won't let her stop it. You will always be able to sleep with me when you need to. Always, Justin. I'll fight for it." Oh, god, I loved him.

I didn't want to cry. I knew I should be strong enough to get through this. I didn't know anyone else my age who regularly slept with his best friend. They all seem to be strong enough. No one else leaves home in the middle of the night. I was 15 years old. I shouldn't need this any more. If it ended, then fine. I was big enough to handle it.

But I knew that was a lie.

Danny was up and pulling on his shorts. He threw a shirt over his head and stuck his arms through, and he was ready to go meet mom.

We held hands walking down the hall toward the family room, but broke contact just before we got there.

`Hi, sleepyhead," Fran said to Danny with a smile. "Did you catch up on all your sleep?"

"Yeah, for a while."

"C'mere, boys. I want to talk to you."

We sat down, Danny near his mom, me in a chair across from them.

"What's the matter?" Danny asked.

"I'm not sure anything's the matter," she said. "I need to get some things clear."

"Shoot," Danny said with the confidence I wish I had. He may have been faking it, but he was dong a good job.

Fran looked at us. "I don't know how to say this."

"Say what?"

"The other night, well, a few weeks ago, when Justin came into the house and fell outside your door. You came to help him up. You called him your lover."

Silence. I was looking at the clock above them.

"I don't remember."

"That might be true. You were pretty shook up. But I know what I heard." She looked at me. "Justin, did you hear it?"

I looked at her. This woman had saved my life. I honestly believe that. When she swept a scared, freezing six-year-old child into her arms and rocked him till he stopped crying, then laid him gently in bed beside her own son, she saved me. And she had hundreds of times since then. Every single night when I needed it that door was opened to me. There were no questions. There was love. There was not maudlin sympathy. There was care and concern, but not pity. There was affection. There was breakfast. There were clean clothes. And always, there was refuge beside her eldest son. I was alive and sane that day because of Fran Shaw.

I could not lie to her.

"Yes. I heard it."

"Did it mean what it usually means?"

We both looked at her, and she interpreted our silence as ignorance.

"It usually means a love affair, that two people are in love with each other. It often means they're having sex."

This is the point where you break down and cry, then sob out your confession of love, sex and your own gay orientation and the understanding parent enfolds you in her arms, kissing and comforting you and telling you that she doesn't care, but the world will be a hostile place.

But it didn't work out quite that way. I had fucking cried so much in the last six months you'd have thought I was a preschooler again. I looked at Danny, who looked at me. Silently we drew strength from each other.

"Are you lovers?" she asked quietly.

We needed a moment for that strength to solidify. Tears were waiting in the wings.

"Mom," Danny began, and faltered. "Mom, I, um, I have to tell you something. Mom, I'm gay. I'm a homosexual." I guess he thought he had to clarify it. Actually, despite the gravity of the moment and the terror I felt, it was sorta funny.

Mrs. Shaw didn't say anything. She just looked at Danny.

"I'm gay, and I love Justin. I can't tell you that he loves me. He'll have to tell you that, if he does. But I've known for a long time that I'm gay. I've known for even longer that I love Justin."

More silence. It was getting scary, all the silence from Fran.

"I do love him, Mom. He makes me whole. Whenever I'm with him, I'm a complete person. Whenever we're apart, I feel an empty spot. My heart doesn't' beat right. I mean, I know I can function, I know I'm not going to die. I know it's in my head, but I also know it's in my heart. My whole outlook changes when I see Justin. I'm calmer, saner, smarter, faster, funnier, more loving, more caring, stronger and louder when I'm with Justin. I'm just more when I'm with him. I always have been. Ever since we were six. Even before that, but I knew it when we were six. That's when he started coming over at night. And I'd notice how much easier I slept when he was here, and how much easier it was to wake up and get ready for school in the morning."

More silence.

"And I don't want you thinking that sleeping with him for the last nine years has made me gay. That's not it, Mom. I feel this way because I truly love Justin, and I would if we'd been friends and never stayed at each other's house. It's not infatuation. It's not because we've slept together all these years. I've tried being with girls and it's not the same. I love him, mom. I need him mom."

Silence. Then she turned to me. "Any you?" she asked without emotion.

My breathing got deep, and I thought hard.

"Mrs. Shaw," I began, "you know the answer to that already. You know what you and Danny and Charlie and Mr. Shaw have done for me. And I have a feeling you already know about me and Danny. If you want to hear it in my own words, then okay. I do love Danny. But I don't know if I'm gay. Danny is the only boy I love. And I also know it's not infatuation. I didn't know much about gay or anything before this. I might maybe be able to love girls, too, I don't know. But I know I love Danny. With all my heart, Mrs. Shaw. And I want to be with him forever."


"I hope you're not disappointed in us," I said quietly. "I hope you're not disappointed in Danny, especially. Because he's the best person I know. I need him, Mrs. Shaw. But I need you, too. I wouldn't be here if not for what you've done for me. You and Danny and your family. I love you, Mrs. Shaw, and I love Danny."

No tears. Not from me. But when I looked at Fran, one rolled down her cheek.

I was shivering and my palms were sweaty. And the silence was deep.

Danny's mom was looking at me. She blinked her eyes slowly and looked at Danny. Another blink, and she was looking at the carpet. At least she hadn't left the room.

Then she abruptly got up and left the room. Into the kitchen. We heard the refrigerator open and close. She came back in with an orange for each of us.

As she began to peel her orange, she said, "I did know. Or I suspected. I'm not going to invade your privacy by asking you embarrassing questions. Can I ask how long this has been going on?"

"Well, since that bicycle accident where Danny broke his arm," I said.

Danny looked at me. "All my life," he answered simply.

"Well, I've had some time to think about this. I was hoping all the things I was thinking were wrong. I was hoping what I suspected wasn't true. But it sounds like it is." She looked at us, and must have realized that I was scared. Danny looked like he was too.

"Oh, boys, don't be afraid. One of the good things about having some time to think about it is that I've been able to sort out my feelings. I love you both. I'm afraid for you, and I'm not quite sure that this is a permanent feeling. But I'm certainly not going to be angry with you. I can accept this. I've been watching you two with each other. I can see the special love between you. You've gone from being friends to being . . . um, well, more than friends." She took a deep breath. "Lovers. But it makes things complicated."

"What do you mean," Danny asked.

"Being gay in a town like this isn't going to be easy."

"We don't plan on telling anyone."

"How many already know?"

"Well, Richie, Greg, Kyle and Becky. And you."

"That's a lot of people. Hard to keep a secret."

"They will," I said. "None of them will tell."

"Justin, when that many people know, no matter how loyal they are, it's going to get out."

"Well, we'll deal with it if it happens," Danny said defensively.

"Yes. You'll have to. Now I need to know something. Justin, do your parents know?"

"Well I sure didn't tell them. If we hadn't told you, we sure haven't told them."


"And I'm not going to tell them. Maybe they'd be okay with it, I don't know. But I just don't think I can."

"I want you to at least think about it though," she said. "Will you do that?"

I nodded.

"There's one more thing to talk about, but I'm not going to do it. You'll have to talk to George about it."

"What? Why? I can't tell Dad," Danny whined.

"He knows, Danny."


"Yes. We've talked about it. He doesn't know, but he suspects, just as I did. And you both need to talk to him."

"I can't."

"You have to. You too, Justin."

I just nodded again.

"Boys, I want you to know I love you. And I'll always be here for you. Always. No matter what the trouble may be."

We sat in silence for a few moments.

"Mrs. Shaw?" I said.


I sighed. "I need to know if . . . I mean, can . . . can I still, if I need to . . . will you let me, you know, like, still come over at night? I mean, if my parents are fighting? Can I still come over and sleep with Danny?"

The dam nearly broke, but not me. Her eyes filled with tears. "Of course you can, Justin. I would never leave you in the cold like that. Don't ever worry about that. This house is yours whenever you need it. Justin Reynolds, you've become one of my sons. I would never abandon you."

I got up from the chair I'd been sitting in and came to sit next to her. She hugged me tightly, then hugged Danny, then hugged us both. Just like that, my worst fears vanished. When my parents fought, sleeping with Danny was not a matter of love. It was a matter of survival. I knew I'd survive now.

In less than a year my life had changed dramatically. In hindsight, I'm glad I had that to prepare me.

Send your comments to TheJourneyman
You can find my stories and many others at TheEggman's The Glass Onion web site.
I look forward to hearing your comments.