Date: Thu, 13 Nov 2008 20:14:52 -0500
From: chris james <drmeta4@gmail.com>
Subject: The Bridge to Anywhere, Chapters 13 & 14

Dear Reader: the following story is classified as adult fiction, persons
under the age of 18 are not supposed to read this material.

	Each of us seeks a little time in paradise before the world closes
in once again. I am attempting to bring this story to a close, it's not
easy. So many readers have shared their thoughts about this one, some
wanting it to never end. Love never ends, it evolves into many things.

I may end the story here, but I promise a glimpse of the future, an
Epilogue for my thoughts on these characters. There is always a new
beginning.

As always, your comments welcome.

Chris James
drmeta4@gmail.com



				The Bridge to Anywhere (M/B)


Chapter Thirteen

	The three of them had never seen anything quite like it. Jack,
Barry and Brandon were lined up on the blanket watching. For in front of
them was a magnificent ocean, stunning and yet...the two boys cavorting in
the shallow water was riveting.

	Alan and Bobby played. Dunking, wrestling, and tossing their bodies
into the incoming surf...it was incredible to watch. They acted like
children, playmates having a wet afternoon of fun. But no one who watched
this scene could ever mistake them for little boys; their bodies were
mature and healthy.

	Brandon couldn't speak for the others, but he was mesmerized. His
eye saw the two young men through the lens, but he held no camera. It would
be stupid to capture the moment for posterity; the image would be burned
into his mind forever.

	Nudity like this had never seemed so natural. The boys were not
aroused at their contact, no signs of sexual excitement existed. Here in
paradise they were just two friends, learning about one another through
competition and play.

	"Damn," Barry finally said, putting a label on the view before
them. "I never..."

	"And you better not," Jack laughed.  "The Greeks wrote odes to
bodies like that:"

		'Blest is the man who loves and after early play,
             	whereby his limbs are supple made and strong.
             	Retiring to his house with wine and song,
            	toys with a fair boy on his breast the live long day.'

	"Lord, Jack...where did you learn that?" Brandon asked.

	Jack smiled. "I had plenty of time when I was in uniform. We were
in the Middle East to bring stability, democracy if you will. And Solon,
the Greek poet and politician who wrote that bit, was generally credited
for bringing democracy to ancient Athens. I ran across some of his bawdy
poetry too, seems he was quite the boy lover as well."

	"I wonder what he would write if he saw this," Barry said.

	"The beauty of opposites, very compelling," Brandon said.

	The boys had been in the water almost an hour, fully aware that
they were putting on a show for the men. And now they ran from the surf,
and as before they held hands, a sign of their friendship.

	Brandon's mind once again slipped into photographer mode. Bobby's
skin was shining from the salty water, his body a wonderful shade of
cocoa. Slender, maybe too thin. But his eyes were shining and for the first
time Brandon realized how startling blue they were.

	Both boys stood before them and shook the water from their hair
like a couple of wet dogs. Alan's skin was glowing both from the sun and
the water. Strands of his hair were stuck to his face while the rest lay in
wet clumps behind his ears. Bobby's raven locks fluffed out from the
shaking and Brandon could see some of it was beginning to curl.

	Both of them stood panting from the effort of their play. Alan's
muscular features stood in contrast to the slim waist on Bobby. But by now
Brandon could see the signs of sunburn beginning to color Alan's shoulders.

	"You're going to burn, Alan...does Maida have some sun block,
didn't you say something about that Jack?"

	"The sun cream, I will fetch for you," Bobby said and he sprinted
off up the beach.

	Alan plopped down and kissed Brandon. Something had changed, Alan
was no longer shy about his nudity, and in fact he reveled in it. His eyes
wandered to Jack and Barry who smiled at him.

	"Nice view," Alan said, the grin on his face belied the innocence
of that statement. Of course he was no match for Jack.

	"Bobby is a real cutie, you keep good company," Jack flung back.

	Brandon laughed, waiting for Alan's retort...which never
came. Instead Bobby returned with a large plastic tub of something. He
pried open the lid and Brandon looked inside. The smell was exotic; the
concoction looked like nothing more than butter.

	"What's in it," Brandon asked.

	Bobby grinned, taking a small dab and rubbing it on his cheek. He
leaned forward and placed his face mere inches from Brandon's. "What do you
smell?" The position the boy maintained bent over like that brought his
crotch right into Brandon's line of sight.

	Brandon leaned in, almost touching his nose to the boy's cheek as
he inhaled.

	"Hmm, coconut, aloe and something else," Brandon said.

	To be fair Bobby made the same offer to Jack and Barry. By then
Alan had a handful of the stuff and was rubbing it on his shoulders. Jack
dabbed a finger in the tub and spread it on his arm.

	"Shea butter, that's the ingredient," Jack said.

	Bobby grinned. "Ya man, you gots it."

	"But that's an African tree, does Maida import it?" Jack asked.

	Bobby shrugged. "He gets from the market in Nassau, lady sells in
pounds."

	"Shea butter has amazingly restorative properties, and so does the
aloe. No wonder all his boys look so good," Jack said.

	"Does it work on white skin, do you know Bobby?" Alan asked.

	Bobby laughed. "You skin my skin all a same, vanilla an chocolate,
God just want us in flavors."

	The boy took over rubbing the cream on Alan's shoulders as he
squatted on the sand. The yellow looking stuff seemed to be absorbed very
quickly as he worked it into skin. Alan's eyes were closed, his body
relaxed and yet Brandon wondered as the boy didn't seem to be stimulated.

	Now had he done that Alan would be erect in a flash, maybe this was
a good thing. Brandon began to apply it to his face and arms, marveling at
the greasy feel which quickly faded as the cream was absorbed.

	Once Bobby was done with back and shoulders, Alan motioned for him
to sit in front. OK, this would be the real test Brandon thought, as the
boy began to apply the stuff to Bobby. But nothing happened to either of
them. Two boys in the prime of life and neither of them was sexually
excited...amazing.

	"Maida ought to sell this stuff, "Barry said, applying it to his
own arms and legs.

	"Guess the formula isn't secret enough," Jack said.

	"You swim you need more," Bobby said. "Soon is dark, we party."

	They had all made an effort to make sure Bobby was looking at them
as they spoke so the boy could read their lips. He caught on to their
efforts right away and seemed grateful. Alan had a way of touching Bobby
before he spoke, allowing the boy a chance to face him.

	They finally heard the sound of pots and pans in the kitchen once
again and Bobby smiled. "Chu-chu cook tonight," He said.

	"What an odd name," Barry said.

	"His real name Eddy," Bobby volunteered. "Boy run from home when he
was little man, parents live in Miami that time. Boy go ask many people
where is train station, he make sound like Chu-chu and name stay on him."

	The Bahamians spoke English as their primary language, although the
influx of other Caribbean cultures had an obvious effect. The young it
seemed were influenced by the Rastafarian music and culture, thus the
broken down English which was still quite clear.

	Brandon could understand Bobby's own personal slant, he left out
words that he didn't need because he couldn't hear how it sounded
anyway. The effect was endearing, the boy's personal shorthand.

	"Good story," Alan said, causing Bobby to smile at the praise.

	The boy was so eager, so friendly and damn cute; Brandon wondered
what else Bobby would accommodate. Not that he would even suggest the boy
join them in bed. If Alan didn't have that feeling about the boy Brandon
knew he wasn't going to start anything. But somehow he knew Bobby would
eventually make his feelings known, and Alan would be the first to find
out.

	Chu-chu presented them with several choices at dinner. A hot spicy
chicken dish, jerked and laid over rice, and then a fish fry smelling of
shredded coconut and loads of butter. And another bag of Fritos. Brandon
knew at some point he would have to ask about that.

	The beer flowed and the boys all got terribly silly. Quite a sight
now that everyone had abandoned clothing all together. Theo and Dominic did
a little dance, more suggestive than anything Brandon had ever seen. And
when they both got so aroused that they couldn't stand it they ran off into
the darkness towards the beach.

	Maida roared with laughter as the boys went off to take care of
business.

	"How did they come to be here?" Brandon asked.

	Maida seemed to sober up at the question and he frowned. "Theo is
my cousin's boy. The boy has been gay since he was born, everyone knew
that. But when he was a child my cousin married a stupid man who used to
beat him behind closed doors. Since no one knew they could do nothing.

	"I went to visit my cousin on the Grand Island; they lived in
Freeport at the time. So Theo is just sixteen and my cousin's husband
treats him like a servant. The boy was nervous around me and I wondered
why. But then he drops and breaks a dish after the dinner and the man jumps
in the boy's face, calling him a 'nasty little bugger.'

	"This upsets me and the man laughs, saying bugger is not good
enough for me because I am the American faggot. I broke his jaw and left,
taking Theo with me. My cousin runs to the street where I am waiting for a
taxi and hugs me, telling me to take the boy away and to never bring him
back. She is a good woman who makes bad choices, but this time she did the
right thing for her son.

	"Theo met Dominic in Nassau last year. I have never seen two boys
fall in love so fast. They are both sixteen and what they share is still
illegal here. Even in the UK it is legal for boys of that age, but not
here. So they stay with me, I protect them and love them like my own. It is
good to have love, may God bless them for it."

	And even as Maida had begun his story Alan had slipped his hand
across the table and into Brandon's. The look they shared said it all; it
was good to have love. And even as he thought that, Brandon saw Bobby
watching them passively. Who did Bobby have?

	The moon was out when they cleared the tables and sat back to enjoy
the view. Jack and Barry began a card game with Maida and Chu-chu. That
left Alan and Brandon with Bobby, so they took a walk on the beach.

	Bobby was quiet, probably because reading lips wasn't easy in the
dark. But Alan maneuvered the boy between himself and Brandon so they could
both lay an arm on the boy. Alan had an arm on Bobby's waist, Brandon chose
the shoulder. No matter that they were silent, Bobby was happy.

	The moon over the ocean was romantic, the silvery-white light
making the sand glow beneath their feet. And as they left the lights of
Maida's place behind the full range of stars was clear in the night sky. A
billion points of light, like distant candles they added to the
illumination.

	 "This is my home, I live for the sky," Bobby said. He turned his
head to Alan. "You are more beautiful than the sky."

	Alan turned to the boy and hugged him. And even without seeing,
Brandon knew there were tears in Alan's eyes. Bobby had that effect, the
quiet loneliness of the boy, the simplicity of his feelings. It was all
made more tragic because Brandon knew the boy loved Alan, he had known from
that very first glance. But Bobby also knew he was standing on the outside
watching the love Alan shared with Brandon.

	"He's so loveable." Alan said over the boy's shoulder.

	Bobby leaned back, putting two fingers on Alan's lips because he
could not understand the words. Alan sighed and took Bobby's hand. Brandon
followed as they walked back to their shack.

	They sat at the table and Alan brushed aside a stray hair on
Bobby's face. "You are so loveable I said."

	Bobby grinned. "Thank you. May I ask, how did you meet?"

	Alan sighed and Brandon sat back to listen. "I was beaten by my
father and ran away," Alan began. It took almost an hour for Alan to tell
his story, slowly, deliberately so that Bobby wouldn't miss a word.

	Bobby cried when he heard about how Brandon had found the boy under
a bridge and his eyes strayed to give the man a smile. That little gesture
made Brandon understand something, Bobby too had been cast out, and soon it
would be time to hear his story.

	Alan showed Bobby a copy of the Teen Star magazine and the boy
gasped in wonder.

	"You are famous like movie star," The boy said.

	Alan smiled. "Someday...maybe. But Brandon takes the pictures; he's
the best photographer in the world."

	"He is your hero, your savior, I understand. The love you share is
so strong, I see this in your eyes," Bobby said.

	"Yes, I love him more than anything," Alan said. "In my life it was
too hard to be gay, now it is all different. I did not have close friends
because I could not tell them my secret." Alan smiled. "But you know my
secrets now, I think of you as a great friend."

	And now Bobby did begin to cry and Alan grabbed the boy in a hug,
the distress on his face said it all, he felt guilty for having caused
Bobby's tears. Brandon watched, knowing he could not turn the boy out
tonight.

	To live in paradise and be alone was the cruelest joke in the
world. They didn't know Bobby's circumstances, but it was apparent that he
was missing love in his life. There were no houses, no tiny little shacks
in the palm trees where Bobby had gone that afternoon, Brandon had
looked. Somehow he knew the boy slept on the ground at night, a reluctant
loner. Why did Maida allow that?

	Finally Bobby stopped crying and stood up to leave, embarrassed at
his emotions. Alan grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

	"No, you stay here with us tonight," Alan said.

	Bobby looked over at Brandon, who nodded, it would be best for all
of them. Alan would feel sad and guilty; Brandon couldn't see himself
getting much sleep after that outburst. But they were dirty, sandy and
covered in Maida's cream. Oh God, the shower would feel horrible without
the sun to warm them. But they had hot water he remembered Maida saying.

	"Take Bobby in the bathroom and each of you take a hot shower,"
Brandon said.

	"Together?" Alan asked, even he seemed surprised at what Brandon
was saying.

	"Sure, just save me some hot water."

	Bobby followed Alan into the bathroom. He was quiet now, unsure of
what these two guys had in mind. Alan had left the door open and Brandon
heard the water go on. Sure, it would be fun to watch but he wouldn't. If
he couldn't trust Alan by now he never would.

	Ten minutes later the boys were done and Brandon stepped in the
shower. The water was just warm so he hurried, must be a small water
heater. He was just finishing up when he heard the giggles; the boys had
been watching him.

	Brandon smiled. "Brats."

	"Bobby thinks you have a super body, his words not mine," Alan
said.

	"Super, huh? Thank you, Bobby." And with that he reached out and
pulled the boy into an embrace. Immediately he felt the boy's body stiffen,
that didn't bode well at all.

	Brandon led Bobby back to the table and sat him down; it was Alan's
turn to watch.

	"Bobby...Bobby what happened in your life?" Brandon asked.

	The boy frowned, sadness creeping into his eyes. "I have no
family," He said.

	Alan gasped. "No one?" And Bobby nodded his head.

	"My father leave when I was little boy, he think I am stupid
because I do not talk, he is English. Mother find me place in Nassau Red
Cross School who teaches me to talk. I come home and she is gone, nothing
is left behind. I am ten years old.

	"I live in the streets, I go to school. Kind English lady feeds me,
buy clothes. I work for her at house. She has son, upper school boy who is
kind and I sleep with him. Is how I discover sex, gay sex. But lady finds
out, I am told to leave. Now I am twelve, I go to school."

	Bobby sighed and looked down at his lap. "Men see me on streets,
want sex with me. Many boys do this, I do too. Man treats me bad, rape me,
I run away, now no school. I live on beach; ask money from tourists to
eat. Kind man from America keep me in fancy house, we have sex all the time
but he will not hurt me. He make me go back to school.

	"I love this man, he is like father. We have sex at night, one
night...and he dies. I scream and no one comes, man is dead. He has money
in suitcase but I do not touch. I go live on beach, I am fourteen. And one
day I come here, walking on beach. Maida sees me and says hello.

	"Something makes me stay here, Maida is kind, but something
else. And then you come and I see the reason. I love the beautiful boy, he
is taken by another. But I will be his friend forever."

	Even Brandon felt choked up at Bobby's tragic story, Alan was
weeping. Bobby rushed to hug the boy and Alan sobbed.

	"No crying, my life is good now," Bobby said.

	And this time when Brandon hugged the boy Bobby melted into his
arms. Men had deceived him; hurt him physically and emotionally. It was no
wonder Bobby found it hard to trust. But Alan pulled back the covers on the
bed and slid over, Bobby slid in next to him as Brandon turned out the
lights.

	The three of them could not talk now; it would have left Bobby
out. But Alan cuddled up beside the boy and reached across to lay his hand
on Brandon's chest. Brandon leaned over and kissed first Alan and then
Bobby good night. He felt Bobby lay a hand on his thigh and smiled.

	It had been an exhausting day, the first of many to come. Now they
knew where everyone stood, who was in love with whom and all that remained
was to enjoy their time in paradise.

	But somehow Brandon knew their relationship with Bobby wasn't
complete. The boy had been abandoned over and over again; he could not be
responsible for that happening again, Alan wouldn't allow it.

	And that was really the heart of the matter, Alan's wants. For if
the boys spent the next few weeks as close as they were at this moment
there would be fireworks in this bed. Bobby was a sexual creature,
reluctant sure, but he had been through hell.

	The boy would never wish to interfere with Alan's relationship, but
he was sixteen, hormones ruled the lives of both boys. It was a sure bet
that at some point this friendship would become sexual. Nature and paradise
would see to that.

	Brandon smiled; listening to the faint sound of the reggae beat
back in the palms at Maida's. For now he understood the man's wisdom. He
had remained silent about Bobby's past only because he knew the boy would
tell them in his own way.

	All of them had seen the way Bobby adored Alan. But now Brandon
knew something the others did not. When Alan finally slept with the boy,
not if, but when it did happen, Brandon would be there too.

	Morning came and Brandon woke quietly. For several minutes he had
been aware that no one was touching him. He rolled over and discovered Alan
but no Bobby. Where had the boy gone?

	Brandon crawled out of bed and quietly opened the door. The sky was
purple, night was gone but the sun hadn't peeked over the horizon. They had
lost track of time yesterday, it wasn't important. The beach was deserted
as Brandon stepped out, pulling the door shut behind him.

	He walked off the planks and into the sand, looking towards the
palm grove. Instinct told him that what he wanted was in there. Brandon
began pushing through the lower palm fronds and headed into the grove. It
was dark in here and this began to seem like a futile act, but then he saw
the boy.

	Bobby was sleeping in a hammock strung between two trees. No
shelter, just the palms above. The kid had no possessions, just the hammock
which had probably been given to him by Maida. Brandon approached the
sleeping boy, how does one awaken a deaf boy?

	Bobby looked so sweet laying there on his back. His cock would be
huge when the boy was erect. Lord...that was not why he was here. Brandon
leaned over and kissed Bobby on the cheek.

	The boy started awake, a hand coming to his cheek and then he
smiled. Brandon took the boy's hand and tugged, Bobby resisted, Brandon
tugged again. The boy slid out of his bed and followed, pulled by the
hand. Once they were out of the palm growth there was enough light for
Bobby to see his lips.

	"Why did you leave?" Brandon asked.

	"I...I did not want to be in the way," Bobby said.

	"In the way of what?"

	"You love, Alan says he love the sex in the morning, I did not wish
to stop you."

	"Oh God, that's silly. We would never ask you to leave, Bobby,"
Brandon said.

	He hugged the boy and felt Bobby hug back. Then he held the boy off
at arms length so there could be no mistaking his words.

	"One of these days you will join our sex, I know this. I would
never wish to hurt you like those other men, I would never, understand?"
Brandon asked. Bobby nodded.

	"But you don't have to run off like that. If Alan wants sex alone
with me he'll find a way to tell you. For now come back to our bed."

	Bobby allowed himself to be led back to the shack and they both
quietly slipped back in bed. Only this time Brandon cuddled up to Bobby's
back, his arm firmly around the boy's chest. Bobby lay a hand on Alan and
the boy unconsciously scooted back against his warmth.

	Brandon knew the boy was smiling, he could feel the tension ebb
from Bobby's body. Sandwiched between two guys who cared about him the boy
fell back asleep. Brandon felt the boy ease back against him until his cock
was in contact with Bobby's butt. Yeah, try to sleep now, he thought, but
he did.

	The heat of the full sun woke them one at a time. Alan rolled over
and saw Bobby's eyes staring at him. He smiled and leaned over to kiss the
boy; Bobby's hand slid down his side and came to rest on Alan's thigh. And
when he looked down he saw Brandon's hand on Bobby's stomach.

	Brandon could tell that the boys were awake. "Morning," he
said. And then rolling Bobby over he kissed the boy's cheek. "Good
morning," he said so the boy could read his lips.

	Alan reached over and laid his hand on Brandon's, and then
grinned. Brandon felt the pressure as Alan pushed their hands down across
Bobby's stomach and right onto his cock. The boy started at the touch but
he didn't move.

	Alan's hand encircled the softness of the boy's cock as Brandon's
hand moved down to grasp Bobby's ball sac. Bobby sucked in a breath and
moaned as his cock rose into erection. Alan began to rub the foreskin up
and down over the cock head and Bobby groaned.

	Alan stared into Brandon's eyes as they worked Bobby into a
frenzy. They were doing this together for Bobby, their own pleasure
denied. And within a minute Bobby gasped, his back arching as he squirted
straight up in the air.

	The blast was huge and Brandon looked up, expecting to see strings
of cum draped over the ceiling fan. But it had all fallen straight down on
top of Bobby's body and their hands. The boy groaned as he sank back to the
mattress, his smile lighting up the room.

	"Good...Great Morning," Bobby said, and they all dissolved into
laughter.

	It was already a scorcher as they stepped into the shower
enclosure. The cold water revived them and Bobby quietly hugged each of
them. Brandon knew it was a beginning, they were all closer now. If
anything it complicated matters. One of these days they would have to go
home, where did that leave Bobby?

	Breakfast was the strongest coffee Brandon had ever had and waffles
smothered in fresh fruit compote. Maida was wasting his talents here, but
then he already knew that. Nothing could get the man to leave paradise, not
even money.

	The day began and no one seemed aware of Bobby's new
adventure. They planned a trip into Nassau city, a little sightseeing for
Alan and Brandon, Maida would use the trip to stock up on supplies. They
finished breakfast and went back to their rooms to get dressed.

	When they reassembled on the patio Bobby was still sitting there
naked.

	"Aren't you coming?" Alan asked.

	"No, I stay away from the city now. Peoples know my face, I get in
trouble."

	Maida looked at the boy with a frown. "No one knows him now; he
just has a fear of the place."

	Alan knelt down before the boy. "I want you to come with us,
Bobby. No one will bother you; look at the strong men we have to protect
us. Do you have some nice clothes?"

	Bobby shook his head and frowned. "No clothes."

	Alan smiled. "Come with me...please?"

	Bobby came along, pulled by Alan's hand and they disappeared into
the shack. Ten minutes later they were back and Bobby looked like a million
bucks dressed in the Italian finery.

	"OK, now we can go," Alan said.

	Bobby still held his hand as they walked across the road to Maida's
garage. Buggy indeed, the man had the oldest VW bus Brandon had ever seen.

	"Is it safe?" Brandon asked.

	"Would I endanger your lives? I would not," Maida laughed.

	He got behind the wheel and the engine fired up without
exploding. If anything the bus was in excellent mechanical condition, it
just looked like crap. The men and two boys filled the rear seats, Chu-chu
sat up front with Maida.

	The highway into town was paved and lined with gorgeous homes. The
old British colonial touch was everywhere, the Bahamian legacy, only now
the faces were brown. Bobby knew the city well, and despite his past he
seemed energized to be revisiting the sites.

	Nassau Harbor was filled with luxury yachts; this was where the
wealthy came to play. Fort Charlotte guarded the entrance, another piece of
colonial history. The island had been a haven for buccaneers and pirates
alike, the history still attracted tourist attention.

	They walked the streets of the colorful city and Bobby pointed out
places of interest. Brandon treated them all to lunch, and then they went
shopping. Maida's choice of markets was in the old quarter, away from the
tourist trade and a place only a local would ever find.

	Maida stocked up on fruits and vegetables and he got Alan involved
in choosing the melons. Jack and Barry watched with amusement as Chu-chu
juggled oranges and then tried to teach Alan the trick. The bruised fruit
the boy dropped went in a bag to become juice later on.

	"What no beer?" Jack asked as they packed up their purchases.

	Maida smiled. "Beer truck comes to me once a week."

	They also stopped at a small stall on the edge of the market where
Maida bought more ingredients to make his sun cream. Brandon noticed a
drugstore across the street and walked over to make his own purchase.

	When the bus was full they headed back. Chu-chu was planning a
night of grilling the tuna he had bought; they would eat well this
evening. The sun was taking its toll and a siesta seemed to be on
everyone's mind.

	Jack and Barry excused themselves. Bobby and Alan went back to the
shack for a cold shower while Brandon tarried, hoping to catch Maida alone.

	"What is it my friend?" Maida asked, setting two bottles of beer
down on the table between them.

	"Bobby," Brandon said, and Maida nodded.

	"Now you know his story I gather. I support him, but he does not
wish to get too close. Our arrangement is very loose, he must feel free to
do what he wishes or I know he will leave."

	"He sleeps under a tree, Maida, that seems a little rough," Brandon
said.

	Maida shrugged. "He is used to it; this is the way his life has
been for many years. He sleeps in the kitchen when it rains or gets cold; I
keep an eye out for him."

	"He's still a child, by your laws or mine, don't they wonder about
what happened to him?"

	"So many children are lost; Bobby has found a place here."

	Brandon shook his head. "But the boy has no legal status, no
identification, and no birth records. Doesn't that bother you?"

	Maida smiled. "You have concern for him, it's a good thing. Would
you take him away from all this if you could?"

	"Yes, but I don't think he'd want to leave." Brandon laughed. "I
may not want to leave even when my time is up."

	"What would Bobby do in your world?  He knows only life here; he
lives for the sea and the stars above. I know his mind, leaving here would
frighten him."

	"He needs to go back to school, to learn a trade, something that
will give his life meaning," Brandon said. "Otherwise he will wake up one
day and his life will have gone by. He has such a great mind; he needs to
see what he can do with it."

	"He will suffer when you leave, we both know this already," Maida
said. "The way he looks at Alan, the love in his eyes...I have never seen
that before. But I think Alan will suffer as well, what will you do about
this?"

	"I don't know," Brandon replied. "Alan's life will be busy, his
work will take up a lot of time and maybe that will help. But I am
exploring the options and so I ask. If Bobby is willing to come home with
us, will you let him go?"

	Maida took a pull on his beer bottle and set it down. "I know you
are a sincere man, my friend. I know that Bobby will share your bed and
your heart before you leave our little paradise.  If he agrees to go I will
support you, I can get him papers. It will be easy to get a student visa
because of his handicap if he attends a proper school in the States.

	"I will need money to buy him a passport and I can sign a paper as
his guardian. But you will have to be the one to make him agree. The
Bahamian officials will look the other way for the right price; Bobby will
be your only obstacle. Will he live with you?"

	Brandon nodded, "I don't think Alan would have it any other
way. The boy is going back to face a storm of publicity and fame, Bobby
would be of great comfort."

	"And if they become lovers, what will that mean to you?" Maida
asked.

	Brandon smiled. "It will mean I'll have to buy a bigger bed."

	Maida laughed. "I see why Alan loves you so much. A selfish man
might lose his lover; a generous one may gain another. Two such boys is
every man's dream, the ying and the yang."

	Brandon laughed. "Chocolate and vanilla as Bobby says, I like both
flavors."

	"Thank you for what you are trying to do," Maida said. "Bobby is at
such a delicate age. The past haunts his thoughts and I think the future
scares him as well. To know he has love will change his life, you will
change his life."

	They shook hands, and Maida hugged Brandon tightly. "You go work on
the boy; I will talk to my cousin. Our good fortune, she's a clerk in the
passport office."

	Brandon walked back to the shack and found the boys toweling off
from a shower.

	Alan shivered. "I think it's even colder today, my cock shriveled
up."

	Brandon looked down and smiled. "Oh? It looks fine to me."

	Bobby laughed. "You funny, good joke."

	Alan yawned. "Nap time I guess."

	"OK, you guys hop in bed while I shower. Chu-chu is already
marinating that tuna and it smells wonderful," Brandon said.

	"Sleep, and then swim," Bobby said.

	And maybe a little lovin in between, Brandon thought as he stood
under the cold water. His last sexual encounter with Alan had been the
morning before they boarded the plane. That was over twenty-four hours ago,
not like Alan at all.

	He'd bought condoms at the drugstore just in case. Between himself
and Alan there was no need for protection, Bobby was a whole new
equation. His life on the streets dictated they be cautious for oral or
anal play.

	Should Bobby agree to return with them a medical checkup would be
the first order of business. It would give the boy a sense of stability; it
would also remove that barrier. He didn't think Bobby would play around;
all the sex he could handle would be right at home.

	What would Theresa think? But Brandon had an answer for that. The
image of ebony and ivory side by side was just too good, too appealing. His
photographer's eye could already imagine the photo shoot. The Italians
would buy into it, he was sure. A brown face would only add to the market
appeal.

	Bobby might become just as famous as Alan, he certainly had the
looks. But would this be exploiting the boy? Bobby had a right to make his
own way in the world; modeling would give him the means. Yeah, now Brandon
knew he had to shoot them together here in paradise.

	Brandon went back to the room and found the boy's asleep, arm in
arm. He could do a whole book on them in the nude, but he wouldn't. Even
clothed they would be a sensation. But he would have to be careful. Any gay
implications would shatter the market value. It would be something they all
needed to discuss.

	Brandon crawled in bed and lay on his back watching that damn fan
again. This would be the biggest modeling venture he had ever stage
managed, or the biggest fiasco. Some how he had to make it work, for both
boys.

	It would mean loving them both, not necessarily on equal terms,
Bobby would certainly have to understand Alan's place in his heart. But
this was an opportunity, one that Bobby certainly deserved, one he should
not miss. And somehow he knew Alan could make it all happen.

	As before the cool breeze of late afternoon woke the boys. Alan
looked over at Brandon sleeping so peacefully. Bobby was still holding him,
only now the boy's erection was pressed against his thigh.

	Alan looked down at that brown cock and smiled. "You need something
I guess."

	Bobby shook his head and looked over at Brandon. Alan knew the boy
was concerned, he didn't have to be.

	"We can share a lot, Bobby, and I think the best part is that we
can share it with him."

	Bobby looked over at Brandon. "I wish to be with you, what will he
do to me?"

	Alan hugged the boy, running fingers across his cheek. "Brand is a
wonderful lover, so kind, so thoughtful. Nothing would please me more than
to share him with you."

	"But he is your man, not mine...I do not look for a man," Bobby
said.

	"Then you don't have to do anything that makes you
uncomfortable. Brand and I share love, which makes all things possible. You
are my friend and I have love for you too, Bobby. Just be here with us for
a while and you will learn to love him too."

	Bobby smiled. "For you I will do anything."

	"Then let's go swim," Alan said. He leaned over and kissed Brandon
who smiled as he responded. "Come lover, let's go swim."

	The three of them hit the water and played in the surf until even
Brandon began to feel like a kid again. Bobby was attacking him with the
same playful ease that he felt with Alan and Brandon did his best to fight
back. But it was two against one and he was knocked off his feet time and
time again, finally he surrendered.

	"You win," Brandon said, his breath coming in gasps. "We have to
get out, I am starting to burn and Alan looks like a lobster already."

	Bobby ran to fetch the cream which he handed over. Brandon sat with
Alan between his legs and began to apply the goo. Bobby reached around and
took a handful, slapping it on Brandon's shoulders. His fingers pushed it
around and then he began to spread the cream with his palms.

	As Brandon worked on Alan's back, Bobby did the same to him. The
hands did more than cover him with cream, they caressed his body. It was
the sign Brandon had been waiting for, Bobby had feelings for him now and
this is how he expressed them.

	For Brandon had not been asleep as the boys talked, he'd heard
every word. The doubt on Bobby's part was well founded; he didn't want to
come between his two friends. But Alan would be the catalyst, and Brandon
knew he had to be patient.

	And as he finished covering Alan the boy leaned back and kissed
him. Bobby hands withdrew as they kissed. But then when he was done with
Alan, Brandon reached back and grasped Bobby's neck, pulling him forward
and giving him a kiss as well.

	The boy fell over his shoulder, landing with his head in Brandon's
lap. And their eyes met.

	"In time we will learn to share love," Brandon said. "I know you
find this hard to understand, it is all so new to us both. Alan needs us to
be close; we are the source of his love."

	Bobby lay there and Brandon could see his mind was working to grasp
what this all meant. And then Brandon saw tears in the boy's eyes and knew
Bobby had come to some conclusions.

	"You would love me?" Bobby asked, his voice almost a whisper.

	Brandon nodded, afraid of the emotion that was rising inside. Alan
leaned down and gave Bobby a kiss, a long and sexy kiss. Then he pulled
away and looked at Brandon, sadness in his eyes.

	"You're doing this for me, aren't you? I...I understand but...but
then you'll make me leave, it's not fair. I can't love someone and then
just walk away..."

	With that Alan got up and ran back to the shack, slamming the door
behind him. Bobby lay there stunned, unsure what had caused the
moment. Then he sat up.

	"You must go...he is sad," Bobby said, beginning to rise to his
feet. But Brandon held his arm.

	"He loves you, Bobby. In three weeks we will have to leave, and
that means leave you behind. This is what makes him sad."

	Bobby nodded, and tears began to roll down his cheeks. "I...I have
caused him pain."

	Brandon smiled. "It doesn't have to be this way, you could stay
with him."

	Bobby shook his head. "You leave and Bobby stays, my heart will
break."

	Brandon placed a hand under the boy's chin and raised his head
until their eyes met once again. The tears were genuine, the boy was in
pain. "Come with us Bobby, come share life with us and be happy."

	A look of shock came over the boy's face and Brandon repeated the
offer. "Come live with us in America and we can share love forever."

	"You...you want me to live with you?"

	"Yes. Come and we will share our lives with Alan."

	Bobby gasped as the possibility washed over him. "Come to
America...can I do this?"

	Brandon reached out and brushed the boy's dark hair off his
face. The eyes that gazed back at him were still watery with tears but
there was a spark in them now. And Brandon placed two fingers on Bobby's
mouth, the sign for silence.

	"You can do anything you put your mind to Bobby. We can offer you a
new life, a good education and a world you could only imagine."

	Bobby grasped his hand and kissed Brandon's fingers. Then he looked
around at the beach, the sky and the ocean before his eyes returned to
Brandon.

	"I...I have never left this place, it is me and what I am," Bobby
said.

	"But this is not all that you can be. You will grow to be a fine
man; there is so much for you to learn. And we will help you in this, you
will never be alone." Brandon smiled. "You are a child of paradise; it will
always be in your heart. But you need to become a man very soon, and Alan
and I would wish to help you."

	"Is this possible, can I leave here?" Bobby asked.

	"All things are possible when you have love."

	Bobby threw his arms around Brandon's neck and hugged him
tight. Brandon stroked the boy's back, feeling the immense emotion of the
moment. The doubts would come later once Bobby had a chance to think, then
it would be Alan's turn to convince the boy. Suddenly Bobby pulled back.

	"Alan is sad, he does not know this? Why did you tell me and not
him?"

	Brandon smiled. "I want you to tell him and bring joy to his heart;
he will only love you more."

	Bobby grinned, giving Brandon a kiss and jumping to his feet. "I
must tell him now, OK?" Brandon nodded and Bobby took off running.

	OK, that had been a subtle bit of psychology, but it had worked. If
Bobby told Alan he was going to America there was less chance he would back
out later. The boy would have some serious doubts once he thought about
it. But then he would face Alan with those fears.

	Alan Bennett, fashion model and manipulator extraordinaire, Bobby
didn't stand a chance. Not only would Alan gain a lifelong friend but a
willing companion, in and out of bed. It was bound to happen; Brandon had
allowed it to happen.

	For if Alan found excitement in Bobby's arms he would certainly
share those feelings with Brandon. Three weeks with two loving
boys. Brandon only hoped he could still walk when it was time to go home.




Chapter Fourteen

	Three weeks is not a lot of time in the hustle and bustle of the
world, but in paradise it seems like a lifetime. By the third day of their
vacation there was no attention paid to the rest of the world, life was a
party. Time meant nothing unless it was time to eat or time to consume
another beer.

	Jack and Barry had gone totally native, rejecting clothing for all
but their trips into the city. Brandon had done likewise, except he
sometimes donned shorts when someone else dropped in. The first time Maida
had a beer delivery the driver nodded his way and kept going. Brandon
almost ran back to the shack for clothes.

	Alan was evolving as well. His body had become bronzed by the sun
thanks to Maida's secret cream. His hair was three shades lighter making
his eyes seem a watery blue like the turquoise ocean he swam in every
day. Between that and the running with Barry and Bobby on the beach every
morning, Alan looked fitter than he ever had. He looked like a young god.

	Jack and Barry practiced tai-chi in the shadow of the palms every
day and soon had a cadre of boys surrounding them. Theo and Dominic, Alan
and Bobby, with the occasional visit by Chu-chu, all went through the
routines with them.

	And Alan began to take karate lessons from Barry who had finally
judged him worthy. Paradise had affected them all, especially Brandon. His
mind began to see through the lens once again and he began to take photos
of everything.

	For as the days crept by more and more people began to arrive in
Maida's little paradise. He knew so many people around the island and had
many friends, especially the gay kind. But there was also family and the
neighbors to consider.

	These people would come and go, never wishing to disturb the
solitude Maida offered his paying guests.  But they were a colorful bunch,
so full of life and happiness. Their afternoon naps gave way to gatherings
on the patio to avoid the heat of the day. And that's when Brandon became
inspired.

	For what he saw in these people was a love of life that was gone
from the lives of city dwellers. They brought kids who ran around the place
and chased one another across the sand. The reality in this scene made
Brandon go for his camera.

	Maida had played his guests up larger than life and the locals ate
it up. No one seemed to mind the two muscular men with the dangling
parts. Jack and Barry had become a thing of legend; they were Alan's
bodyguards after all.

	Maida made sure to tell everyone that Alan was the most famous
fashion model in New York. The name of that city inspired awe in itself to
those who had never seen such a place. The Teen Star magazine Maida had
acquired was worn and well studied; Alan was the focus of great attention.

	But the boy sold himself by being social with everyone, and he
succeeded partly because Bobby never left his side. Everyone knew Bobby and
by now Maida had let the word out, Bobby was going to America. It was like
the Fourth of July and Christmas all rolled into one, everyone shared in
the joy.

	Brandon wasn't left out of the picture Maida painted; he was the
photographer of the stars, the most famous camera wrangler in America. And
that exaggeration made people want Brandon to take their picture, and he
was only too happy to oblige.

	And through the lens he captured images that shouted louder than
any words he might use to accompany the photographs. The woman suckling her
babe, the kids chasing one another with glee, and the old men sharing a
laugh under the palms as they threw dice or played mancala.

	Human interest, the residents of paradise...Brandon knew he had a
book here, it was only a matter of which publisher he would allow to do him
the favor. The colors were brilliant, the place so simple and yet
compelling, the people felt so real because they were. In two weeks Brandon
had three dozen disks full of shots, more than enough for his needs.

	But he did not forget the most important photos of all, Alan and
Bobby. For if a coffee table book of the locals would make him a living,
the ones he took of these two boys would earn him a reputation.

	Alan knew how to pose, and he did it with wild abandon while Bobby
sat by and watched. The texture of the trees and the coral, the color of
the ocean and the sand, each of these elements made the boy a most worthy
subject. And then Bobby joined him.

	It was a Tuesday morning and the light was perfect when Brandon
took the single photo that would define his career for decades. He knew it
was special at the time, he just didn't know how special. Alan was smiling,
the trademark of his young career, only now there was another smile beside
him.

	Alan had posed the shot like he did so many of the others. The boy
had a feel for the imagery and Brandon gave him free range to make the
choices. This one had a palm tree in it, the smooth trunk placed just so
between the two faces and bodies. Both boys looked lean and fit with bodies
that would halt a parade or make the stock market crash, bodies to die for.

	And the only thing separating the boys was that tree, and a good
thing too, they were both naked. But only Brandon would know that, he
cropped the shot just above their pubic bush. The swell of their butts was
there, the implication being sexier than actually showing it at all.

	The look they had, the smiles, the joy in their faces, one would
almost think they were in the middle of sexual pleasure...and they
were. For Alan had reached around the tree and grasped Bobby's cock with
his fingers, so of course Bobby did the same. Both boys were fully erect
and being manipulated by the other.

	Brandon wanted to laugh but he took a few photos instead, waiting
for that moment he knew would come...and then they did...come. The looks of
surprise mixed with sexual release made Brandon trip the shutter release,
and the sequence was captured.

	The boys looked outrageous, sexy and so very much alive at that
moment. Faces shining, mouths open, eyes looking upwards and half
closed. It was a risk, homo-erotic as hell, but it would sell a million
copies.

	And much later as Brandon reviewed the days work he came to that
photo. Jack and Barry were looking over his shoulder.

	"Jesus," Barry said.

	"Damn that's hot," Jack said.

	"You think?" Brandon asked, but he knew...this was the one.

	They walked the beaches, shooting the boys in the Italian clothing
against a backdrop of sea and sand. The island was a garden of colorful
flowers and amazing plants, Brandon got that in there as well. Posing the
boys together, sometimes back to back showed off the clothing and the
models to their best advantage. Theresa would love it.

	Oh shit...Theresa. Brandon had not thought to call her since they
had arrived, when was that? There was only a week remaining, maybe she
would understand. They took a ride into Nassau and Brandon dug out his cell
phone. At least the battery wasn't dead, so he dialed.

	"Brand? Thank God, I thought you had died or something," Theresa
said.

	"Mostly the or something seems about right. Theresa you are not
going to believe what this has done for our boy. His smile is back better
than before, he looks stunning."

	"Good, we need stunning, the world is clamoring for him, Brand. The
media is going nuts since I told them that Alan had disappeared for a
vacation. I bet thousands of dollars are being spent to find him right
now. Everyone wants to get to him first."

	"Devious woman, I love that. We'll be back in five days; I've
filled almost every disk I have with wonderful photos."

	"How wonderful? So has he changed?"

	"He's a bronze god Theresa; everyone will be stunned at the
image. And I'm bringing home a surprise, something to give you a permanent
smile."

	"Oh don't tease, what is it?"

	"OK...his name is Bobby Hanna; he's the ying to Alan's yang. Wait
until you see the photos my dear, Stanford is going to beat everyone at the
Style Awards this spring, I guarantee it."

	Silence, Brandon knew Theresa was stunned. The woman cleared her
throat. "You mean that? Who is he, what is he like?"

	"British father, Bahamian mother. Raven hair and the bluest eyes
you ever saw, simply awesome."

	"You've posed them together? Can he work...how old is he?"

	"Same age as Alan, his guardian will sign everything we need. Look,
this is quite a find, let me bring him home with us and you can meet him
personally. He's shy, but I think that's only because he's deaf."

	"Deaf? Oh my, now there's an angle. Handicapped employment will
make us look very good. Can he talk?"

	"Theresa...Alan and I both love him; he'll be a part of our
family. Bobby expresses himself very well, but his life here has been very
simple, we need to give him time to assimilate."

	"OK, no pressure." Theresa laughed. "I don't want to tangle with
Alan over him; your boy plays me like a fiddle."

	"Sorry, Theresa. But this little vacation may turn out to be the
best investment you ever made. Well see you on Friday."

	"Count on it, I'll meet you at the airport."

	"Can't wait, hugs," Brandon said and he hung up.

	OK, that went well. All hell must be breaking lose around her but
she'd never admit it. Brandon smiled. No one would find them in paradise.

	"How did the call go?" Alan asked

	"The President has the Secret Service out looking for you, they're
dragging the rivers for your body...Theresa is swamped but won't admit
it. The world wants Alan Bennett back."

	Five days left, Brandon mused. Maida had a Bobby Hanna passport,
his own last name which gave him some legal status over the boy. No one
would dig too deep unless the boy started making a splash. But this had
been the most worthwhile time he'd ever spent with Alan, and he thought
back to the day Bobby agreed to come to America.

					* * * * *

	Jack and Barry were brought in on the news right after Alan was
told of Bobby's decision. They had to know, Alan screamed and the men came
running as if someone might be murdering their young charge.

	But Bobby and Alan were dancing up and down with excitement and
Brandon had to spill the beans. Jack took it all in stride when actually he
wanted to say "I told you so." The man was clairvoyant; Brandon was
convinced of it now.

	But dinner that night began the long celebration, one that would
bring a myriad of people to Maida's little paradise. Little Bobby was going
away to seek his fortunes in America. The news brought Alan into his arms
with all the kisses and tears of joy Brandon could handle. Bobby was right
behind him.

	And much later that night, as the beer took its toll and the day
was long over, the three of them returned to the shack. Nothing was said as
they showered and dried off, not until it was time for bed. And then Alan
took over.

	"In celebration, we're going to have sex tonight," Alan said.

	"I will do what you ask," Bobby said, the smile was there, the
voice said he was nervous.

	"OK, chief, what are we supposed to do? I see you found the
condoms," Brandon said.

	"Yeah, I explained that to Bobby and he gets it. No sharing of
fluids until he is checked out. And since Bobby has never been on top
before we'll teach him what it takes to be a good lover."

	"You fuck me?" Bobby asked, now the smile seemed genuine.

	"Oh yeah, and you fuck Brandon," Alan said.

	Bobby looked shocked. "Is this good for you?"

	Brandon looked down at the boy's nearly rigid cock and
smiled. "Very good for me."

	Now Bobby was excited, the hardest thing in the room for the
moment. Alan produced the tub of Maida's cream. "Now we'll see what else
this is good for."

	They had left the lights on for Bobby's sake. The boy might not be
able to hear the moans and groans of lovemaking but Brandon was sure he'd
feel the vibrations. The poor kid looked like he was about to explode from
all the excitement. Brandon rolled on his stomach and Alan covered Bobby's
cock with a condom and slathered Brandon's ass with the cream.

	Tentatively Bobby crawled on top while Alan moved in front of
Brandon. Now he could watch Bobby and the boy could read his lips for
instruction.

	"Slowly, Bobby," Alan urged.

	Bobby pressed down and Brandon could only be thankful that he was
used to being penetrated. Bobby's cock pressed inwards and then he slid
right in and all the way home.

	Brandon groaned and Bobby froze, at least he did until Alan smiled.

	"It feels good, don't stop now."

	The boy's cock began to move, slowly picked up speed and then Bobby
started making noises. Alan looked at the boy's face, his eyes were closed,
mouth open, and he realized...Bobby was singing.

	The sound came from deep within, almost a humming and yet it was a
tune. The boy could not hear, but he could feel and this is what a song
sounded like to him. Alan smiled, it meant Bobby was happy.

	Bobby's pace was slow and deliberate, but lacking passion. Brandon
knew the boy was trying to please him, he just didn't know how. And the
sounds he heard the boy make were puzzling, but they seemed to be tied into
the rhythm Bobby maintained.

	One lone gasp was the only warning Bobby gave a few minutes later,
but Brandon felt the boy harden as his cock spurted in the condom. It was
the most passionless sex Brandon had ever had, but he understood. Alan
didn't say a word as he watched Bobby withdraw, but he saw the condom full
of sperm and reached for a towel.

	Brandon rolled over as Bobby moved out of the way. What could he
say; he had to give the boy praise.

	"Thank you, Bobby."  The boy's head hung, he knew it wasn't
inspired sex. Brandon ran fingers through Bobby's hair and the boy looked
at him. "Good things take time to learn." The boy nodded.

	It wasn't that Bobby didn't feel passion; he did every time he
looked at Alan. But he would learn that much of Alan's passion was derived
from Brandon, and that meant he would have to be shared between his two
friends.

	"He'll be OK," Alan said. Bobby read his lips and nodded.

	"I want you to understand something, Bobby. You have strong
feelings for me, but that's why I wanted you to have sex with Brandon
first. You will be with us for a long time, and if this is going to work
you will have to share those feelings with Brandon too. Because to give you
the love I have in my heart you will have to share Brandon with me."

	Bobby nodded, and Alan continued. "I know he is not me, but he is
the greatest part of me and my feelings. I know you understand he is my
hero, my savior, and I learned to love him before we ever lay down
together. My love for Brandon is not motivated by sex, and you shouldn't
feel that way either.

	"But if you love me you will have to learn to love him just as
much. Now he will become your hero and savior. One day you will understand
how important this moment is to our lives, yours, mine and Brandon's. We
will become a family, Bobby. Nothing in life is more important than the
love we will share as a family."

	The emotion in those words overcame Bobby. Alan hugged the boy and
looked up at Brandon with tears in his eyes. Yes, Alan had left out
nothing; Brandon knew he couldn't have expressed it any better.

	And they lay down once again, this time to show Bobby what passion
meant. And with Alan's head lying in Bobby's lap, Brandon raised the boy's
legs and entered him. The feeling in the room was electric, the emotions
kindled a storm of passion and Bobby watched it all unfold.

	His eyes beheld the physical and emotional bond between these
two. One he loved deeply and one he would have to learn to love. But he
witnessed the way Brandon gave in to Alan's desires; it was more than just
sex as he had been told. And deep in his heart Bobby knew he wanted to be a
part of that love.

	And because of the physical contact with Alan he felt the moans of
pleasure and saw the desires built. It was the most amazing thing he had
ever seen and he felt his own passions return.  But he watched Brandon's
face and saw something he could admire.

	This man was not like any of the others he had encountered, there
was nothing to fear in those eyes. And as Brandon climaxed Bobby saw the
fire in those eyes and knew he would learn to bring out those feelings in
this man. Now it was something he wanted to do.

	And then Bobby lay down on his back, his head in Brandon's lap and
Alan between his legs. He felt such exquisite desire, now he could give
Alan something to show his love, but he remembered to look up at Brandon
with a smile as Alan slid into him.

	Bobby had been fucked before, but none of those men had made love
to him. The feelings were incredible, his heart was bursting with emotion
and so Bobby opened his mouth and sang of his joy.

	Both Alan and Brandon were overcome at the sound of that song. It
spoke of childhood, a time when Bobby was little and happiest. And although
the words were in Creole, his mother's native tongue, the feelings all came
through. Bobby sang to express his deepest joy, and that made him so
dear...he felt loved.

	Brandon watched the effect Bobby had on Alan and understood. The
boy could love his friend, it was the way he could give of himself and make
Bobby feel a part of their lives. Alan was gentle until he felt Bobby
respond and then he worked to thrill the boy.

	Bobby's song was punctuated by gasps and groans, telling Alan what
needed to be done. And as he approached his climax, Alan's hand sought out
Bobby's cock which had been bouncing against the boy's belly. The song
dissolved into a great long groan of pleasure as Bobby reached out for his
own orgasm.

	The boy squealed as his cock gushed, coating his belly with an
amazing amount of seed. And as he did Alan looked into Brandon's eyes, his
own orgasm pumping into the condom buried in Bobby's ass.

	The look said everything. It said thank you for allowing me to do
this for Bobby, and it spoke of Alan's undying love. For no matter how
often Alan and Bobby made love, his deepest feelings would always remain
with Brandon.

	Bobby's face was one large smile, his eyes first on Alan and then
Brandon even as his body came down from that glorious high. It had been
better than he could ever imagine, sex had never felt this way before.

	"I...I love both," Bobby said. "You give love so good, my head is
crazy."  Then the boy gasped as Alan slid out of him and went for the
towel.

	Brandon smiled down on him. "OK, crazy head, now we can sleep."

	They made Bobby shower, his joy evident by the new song he began.

	"Does he even know what he's singing?" Alan asked.

	"Doesn't matter, he hears it in his head and feels the vibration in
his throat. We'll always know when he's happy."

	Alan sat down in Brandon's lap and they kissed. "I love you," Alan
finally said. "I didn't know how this was going to work; I just knew it had
to happen before we all went home."

	Brandon smiled. "Bobby knows he's loved, and I think he'll develop
stronger feelings for me in time."

	Alan grinned. "Just don't forget that vanilla is supposed to be
your favorite flavor."

	Brandon laughed. "Yes, it is, but a little chocolate every now and
then will add to the taste."

	"We have weeks to share before we go home, paradise never felt so
wonderful," Alan said.

	And Alan had been right, paradise did overcome them all. But the
day finally came when the world beckoned; New York awaited the return of
Alan Bennett.

	There were tears and a flood of emotion at the parting. Maida and
his boys tried to be brave but to no avail. Bobby had been such a part of
their lives. Their guests had become dear as well; no one was without
emotion that morning.

	"We will bring him back many times," Brandon promised. "This place
will always bring us back whenever we can get away."

	Maida nodded. "No one ever leaves paradise untouched. You are my
dear friend, come back to us soon." And then it was time to go.

	The little bus was filled as Maida had decided to take them to the
airport. And through his tears Bobby looked back at his friends standing on
the beach. His eyes looked to the horizon, a view he was afraid he would
never see again. But he waved farewell until the bus slid through the trees
and the view was gone.

	He suffered, but only until the realization of what was before him
crept into his mind. Beside him Alan caught the nervous smile and he
grasped Bobby's hand. It would be a day of firsts, and Alan knew he would
not let go of that hand until the plane touched down in New York.

	The airport scared Bobby; he did not comprehend people riding in
the sky on an airplane. But the hugs of good bye with Maida distracted his
fears for a while, and then even that was gone.

	Now he was alone with these two, people he had come to love in only
a few short weeks. Bobby trusted them; he knew everything would be
good. The promise of a new life called and he was coming, but only because
Alan said it would be wonderful.

	The seats in the plane were comfortable, but the seatbelt was
confusing. He gazed out the window and then smiled as the nice lady leaned
over to hand him a pillow. He felt a little drowsy; the pill Brandon had
given him made him relax. Bobby had no idea what air sickness was, but he
didn't want to catch it.

	And then the plane moved, like a big bus it pulled away from the
terminal. Alan gave him some chewing gum and said it would keep his ears
from feeling pressure. It seemed silly, but he liked gum and he would do
anything Alan asked of him. He saw that Jack and Barry were already
chewing.

	The plane rolled out to the runway and Bobby looked over at Brandon
across the aisle and waved. Brandon smiled and waved back, and then they
began to move faster. The whine of the engines he couldn't hear, but he
felt the vibrations through his seat. Alan's hand grasped his and they both
looked out through the window.

	The plane tilted upwards and Bobby suddenly felt light, as if his
body was floating upwards. And then he saw the ground drop away and his
stomach flip-flopped. With awe he saw the ocean appear beneath them as the
plane rose higher and higher, tilting towards the left. The island seemed
to grow smaller and then vanished.

	He felt Alan's lips on his cheek, a kiss that gave him
confidence. And as they rose into the clouds Bobby sighed. No matter that
Brandon had hundreds of photos he could see of his island home, he was off
to America to make a new one.

	The plane flew up the coast and Bobby began to think of America as
this huge island. Long ago in school he had seen a map of the world, the
continents had seemed like big islands in the vast ocean, but then he could
remember little else.

	The Dramamine finally made Bobby doze and he leaned against Alan's
shoulder. Alan had watched the boy absorb the strange things around him and
accept them. It was going to be exciting to show Bobby a strange new place
and new people. He wasn't sure New York was exactly the best place to
start, but that was unavoidable.

	Alan leaned his head back and thought about what was ahead. The
work would take on a whole new dimension if Theresa allowed Bobby to become
involved. It wouldn't be a hard sell; the photos alone could do that. Give
him five minutes with Delveccio and Alan knew he could convince the man
that a face with color would broaden his market.

	Bobby would be acclaimed on his own merits, together they would be
explosive. The boy would have money, something he would have to be
counseled about. Bobby had only made pennies from the men he met, that part
of his life was behind, now he could reap the reward. Alan smiled, the boy
would probably send it all back to Maida, it just seemed like something
Bobby would do.

	Eventually Alan would have to face the adoring public, the little
girls that would want to date him, and the mothers who would be influenced
because of that. He represented buying power, the American public's need to
obtain goods based upon image instead of need.

	Alan dozed off, snapping awake only when the announcement came
about their landing delay. He looked over at Brandon and saw the smile.

	"Have a good nap?" Brandon asked. "Might be another hour before
landing."

	"Bobby's still out, when will we get to see the city?"

	"Soon, we're probably circling over the ocean, still too far down
to see much through the clouds. We forgot something, its cold down there. I
wonder how that will affect Bobby."

	"He can use my parka, we'll be in a warm car anyway," Alan said.

	"Maybe Theresa will think of it and bring something," Brandon
said. "She does stuff like that."

	"I can't wait to see her face when she meets Bobby, I love it when
she freaks out," Alan laughed.

	"He won't be able to work for a while; a lot of paperwork comes
first. You need to start schooling, and so does he. I'm sure we can find
tutors, maybe one for the both of you."

	"I was just sitting here thinking about all those little girls
again," Alan said. "I hope we travel a lot, maybe then they won't catch up
to me."

	"Staged events will work best, but they'll spot you everywhere we
go. Must be that adorable face of yours they find so attractive," Brandon
said.

	"Then dye my hair and paint me brown, I'll hide behind Bobby," Alan
laughed. "But I'm sure his day will come soon enough."

	"Yeah, and he's less equipped to deal with it than you are, its
going to be hard for him."

	Alan looked up at Jack and Barry in the next row. "I'm confident;
we have them to keep us safe."

	"Yes we do, Bobby will have to learn those rules too," Brandon
replied.

	The speakers clicked on again. "Good Afternoon, Ladies and
Gentlemen. We'll be landing in about ten minutes from now. Sky is clear
over New York so you'll get a good view of the city to your left as we
approach. Temperature on the ground is thirty-eight degrees, winds light
out of the west at less than seven miles per hour. Thanks for joining us
today, the seatbelt sign will come on shortly. Have a good day and welcome
to America."

	Alan leaned over and kissed Bobby's cheek to waken him. The boy
smiled and opened his eyes.

	"Alan," Brandon said, and the boy turned to look back. "You won't
be able to do that anymore, at least not in public, OK?"

	"Yeah, I know," Alan replied.

	They stared out the window, and Bobby gasped as the city came into
view. "So big, so tall...Nassau looks like small village now," Bobby
laughed.

	A moment of renewed tension and then they were on the ground,
rolling towards the terminal. Bobby gazed in wonder at LaGuardia airport
and he put his hand on the window.

	"Cold, Alan...is very cold here?" Bobby asked.

	"Yes, it's winter, we wear many clothes, and sometimes that's
fun. You've never seen snow have you?"

	"Snow...no, in pictures, looks pretty."

	The plane taxied to the gate and the doors were opened. Alan
grabbed Bobby's hand.

	"Come, we go see the city," Alan said.

	Brandon smiled, now even Alan was picking up Bobby's stilted
speech. Paradise did affect them all, welcome back to the real world.

	Customs was another matter; the ink was still wet on Bobby's visa
so they were pulled aside. The agent gave them the eye until Brandon
produced the boy's passport and the letter from Maida giving him permission
to travel and be under Brandon's care.

	"Purpose of the visit?"  The man asked Bobby and the boy looked
puzzled.

	"He's deaf but he can read your lips," Brandon offered.

	"You're all together?" The man asked, looking at Jack and Barry
standing behind Alan.  "Are you gentlemen carrying?"

	Jack shook his head. "Don't need to," and he produced his ID. "We
work for Mr. Bennett."

	Then the man looked at Alan. "Do I know you?"

	Alan smiled. "Maybe, if you have a daughter under sixteen."

	Now the man really smiled. "Alan Bennett, of course. Both my
daughters are big fans." And then he looked at Bobby. "And my youngest is
also deaf."

	"We hope to get Bobby in a good school for the deaf here, I imagine
his visa requirements will change when that happens," Brandon said.

	"Yes, but you'll have plenty of time to work that out. I don't see
any problems here." He began to stamp their passports as Alan turned to
Barry and said something. Barry dug into his carry on and produced the
publicity photos, big eight by ten's of Alan.

	The custom's agent finished their paperwork and looked up at
Alan. "Will you give me the names of your daughters?" Alan asked. And right
there he personalized each photo for the girls, signing his name with a
flourish and handing them across the counter.

	"Wow, they'll be so surprised...thank you," The agent said.

	"You're very welcome, and thank you too," Alan said before they
walked away.

	"What happen?" Bobby asked.

	"Alan charmed pants off the custom's man," Brandon explained. "All
good." Lord, now he was doing it too.

	They moved out of the custom's area to the baggage section. They
had nothing to declare and Brandon carried all the paperwork for his
cameras, plus his union card. Ten minutes later they were out in the lobby
where the driver waited, this time with Brandon's name on his card. A very
smart move, Alan's would attract attention.

	Alan was digging in his suitcase for the parka to give Bobby when
the driver produced a large coat box. "Ms. Stanford said to give you
these," The man said.

	Brandon opened the box and pulled out two new parkas, both of them
bright orange. The Chinese prototypes he guessed, good news...the guys were
moving forward on Alan's suggestions. Bobby loved the color of course, it
just screamed Bahamas.

	And then they were out through the doors and into the waiting limo.

	"Alan sweetie...My God, you look wonderful," Theresa said, giving
the boy a huge kiss before she turned to Bobby and extended her hand. "You
must be Bobby...simply delightful."

	Bobby grinned, brushed the hair from his face and gave Theresa his
brightest look. Even Brandon heard the woman gasp. "Lord, Brand...you're
going to give me a heart attack with these boys...they both look stunning."

	Brandon smiled, moving over to allow Jack and Barry some room on
the seat.

	Theresa smiled at their tanned faces. "So you all had a good time I
hope."

	Jack smiled back. "No issues, we vacationed too...guess we can't
charge you for that."

	Theresa waved him off. "You brought them home safe and sound; I'll
still pay the bills. Did you eat on the plane?"

	Alan shook his head and Bobby smiled. Theresa kept looking back and
forth between the boys. "Good, let's go eat. I can't get over the pair you
make, will he model do you think?"

	"Brandon has a ton of photos, we posed in the Italian clothing,
Delveccio might just be surprised," Alan said.

	"Good thinking, but we can't use him yet...but we sure can tease
Delveccio, can't we?"

	"Yeah, Bobby will attract a whole new segment of the market," Alan
replied.

	Theresa smiled. "Always thinking aren't you, utterly amazing. So
what shall we eat?"

	"Italian," Alan said, and Brandon laughed.

	"We've been on a fish and chicken diet for weeks," Brandon
said. "Now you'll spoil him, Theresa."

	Theresa laughed. "Haven't you figured it out yet? Alan is my best
young hope for the future. Spoil him...that's what I do best. But if you
can wait an hour to eat I'll take you all out, I have to stop at the office
first, OK?"

	"Sure, the boys can snack if they need to," Brandon said. "I want
to leave all the disks with Marvin anyway so he can clean them up. Wait
until you see what paradise looks like."

	Bobby leaned over and asked Alan. "What is Italian food?" Of course
he never had learned to whisper so every one heard.

	"Spaghetti...you eat before?" Alan replied.

	"Oh...yes, Chef Boyardee."

	Alan smiled. "A little better here I think, but you get Italian."

	"Cool, man," Bobby replied.

	Theresa looked Brandon in the eye. "You did good...again."

	The limo pulled up in front of the offices and Jack got out opening
the door, old habits back in play. They all followed Theresa into the lobby
where Bobby came to a standstill, for there on the wall was a ten by twelve
foot photo of Alan.

	The boy grinned. "I say before, you big star, Alan."

	Alan smiled back. "Some day you too, brother."

	Bobby's eyes got moist. "Yes...we brothers."

	It took about five minutes for the buzz to go through the building,
Alan is back. By the time they reached the second floor the hallway was
packed, smiles and greetings from everyone. Carlos stepped forward and
hugged Alan.

	"Boy, what have you done to your hair...it looks incredible,"
Carlos said, and then he spotted Bobby. "Madonna...a second beauty."

	"Carlos this is Bobby Hanna," Alan said.

	"I am pleased to meet you...such beautiful hair, so natural,"
Carlos said. "What's his secret?"

	"Sun and sea, I doubt Bobby ever used conditioner in his life,"
Alan said.

	"We'll have to treat him very special," Carlos said, and Bobby
smiled.

	Brandon went off to find Marvin, Theresa's computer guru, so Alan
led Bobby into the lounge.

	"There you are, welcome back, kiddo...and who's this?"

	Alan smiled. "Hello Denise, this is Bobby. Bobby this is Denise
Rogers, a very famous model."

	Bobby smiled too. "I see you before."

	"You have? And where was that?" Denise asked.

	"My mother had the magazine, I was just little...you have pretty
face," Bobby said.

	"Thank you. Alan, did you discover him?" Denise asked.

	"He's not modeling just yet, maybe next year. Bobby was raised in
the Bahamas; this is his first time away from there."

	She smiled. "Take it from a pro, sweetie...Bobby is going places."

	"We going to eat Italian," Bobby said, misunderstanding Denise's
comment, but she smiled.

	"You do that dear, have fun in New York while you can," Denise
said.

	Barry found them a few minutes later and said Theresa was done,
everyone was waiting in the lobby. Alan said his good-byes and they rode
the elevator down.

	Through the tall glass windows Alan saw it was beginning to sleet
outside.

	"Bobby, you should zip up that parka, it's going to be cold and wet
outside. I don't want you to get sick.

	"The rain is cold, will it snow?" Bobby asked.

	"Maybe, you want to see that?" Alan asked.

	"Oh yes, very much," Bobby answered.

	Theresa had them clustered inside the doorway as the limo driver
pulled up into place.

	"Ok, let's go boys," Theresa said. "Try not to get wet."

	Jack cleared the door first, rushing across to open the rear door
of the car. Brandon huddled behind them, giving the boys a little
shove. They had to hesitate for someone rushing along the sidewalk, a fur
lined parka, hood pulled close. Brandon stepped forward to allow the person
to pass, and then it happened.

	He felt a sharp pain in his side and turned...another pain lower on
his back, and then he started to fall. He saw the face, the angry features,
and the hatred...Monica. She held the bloody knife in her hand, going for
another blow.

	"Knife," Alan screamed, pushing Bobby and Theresa out of the way,
reaching for Brandon as he fell.

	Monica saw the boy's hands reaching for Brandon and she slashed
out. Alan pulled his head back, avoiding the main thrust of the blade but
feeling a burn on the side of his face. Alan's face twisted in anger as he
grabbed her wrist, wrenching it. His right arm cocked back, and he
delivered a blow to her face with the heel of his hand.

	Monica's blood splattered them both as her nose and right cheekbone
shattered. The knife fell from her hand and they both watched it fall
towards the sidewalk. Then she was jerked away by the impact as Jack hit
her, slamming his body into hers. With his arm around her neck Monica went
down and Jack fell on her. The only sound a sickening crunch as her neck
twisted and broke on impact with the sidewalk.

	"Brand," Alan screamed and fell to his knees on the slush covered
concrete.

	"Alan..." Brandon replied, staring up at the boy. The pain was
making him dizzy, something was terribly wrong. "Alan?"

	The sidewalk was covered in ice and blood. Theresa held Bobby
against the car, the both of them crying at the scene before them. Barry
tore the side of his shirt right off and pressed the cloth to the side of
Alan's face. Jack stood over Monica's lifeless body as the sound of sirens
filled the street.

	Alan reached out for Brandon and Barry held him back. "No, don't
touch him, you might make it worse.

	Alan screamed, his voice echoing off the building and then he
sobbed, falling into Barry's arms as the sirens came closer, red and white
lights flashing through the icy downpour.

	"He's going to be all right, he's going to be all right," Barry
said, holding Alan closer.

	Brandon looked up, his eyes refusing to focus; everything seemed to
be growing dim. He could feel the ice falling on his face, but nothing
else. And the last thing he saw was the terrified faces inside the glass
wall of the lobby...then he blacked out.

					 * * * * *

	The sounds came to him first, a low beeping that he knew was a
heart monitor. He was in the hospital, he recognized the smell. Slowly
Brandon opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling...why was he here?

	The images came rushing back, Monica, the knife...Alan. "Alan?"

	A hand slid down his arm and grasped his hand.  "Alan?"

	The boy leaned up over his face and Brandon gasped at the bandage
on the side of Alan's face. "Alan...Oh God," Brandon said, tears suddenly
blurring his vision. Monica had hurt the boy and suddenly he wished her
dead.

	Alan saw the tears, the pain. "Shh, everything is just fine
now...it's just a scratch."

	"The bitch..." Brandon began.

	Alan laid two fingers on his lips and Brandon stopped. "She's not
going to bother us again," Alan said. "She died in the attack."

	"Ahh...how long have I been here?" Brandon asked. He felt funny,
his body wouldn't move, it must be the drugs they'd given him. He looked up
into Alan's eyes and saw the pain, the tears brimming over.

	"Brand...Oh Brand," Alan moaned as he began to cry in earnest.

	Brandon raised his arm to brush away the tears and it felt like
lead. Tubes and wires were attached to his arm and he looked at them,
realizing that even moving his head was a chore.

	"Alan, tell me...please."

	The boy sobbed, looking down at his face. "Brand...you're
paralyzed, she...she damaged your spinal cord."

	Alan laid his head on Brandon's chest and sobbed, and with great
effort Brandon ran his fingers though the boy's hair...then he blacked out.

	There were moments when he seemed to rise above the darkness,
hearing the monitor for a moment and then plunging back into the
abyss. He'd lost all sense of time and his mind reached out, willing
himself to feel something, commanding his body to respond...nothing.

	He heard the voices around him, Alan...Bobby, and others, nurses
and doctors he guessed. But finally his eyes opened and his head seemed to
clear.

	"Mr. Clark? I'm Doctor Goodwin...how do you feel?"

	Brandon laughed, his voice made a cackling sound. "Water," He said.

	The doctor put a straw to his lips and he sipped, the cool liquid
running down his parched throat. "How long have I been here," Brandon
asked.

	"Five days, but we've kept you sedated to keep you calm. Do you
remember what happened?"

	Brandon nodded. "I was attacked...stabbed, how bad is it?"

	"The paralysis is caused by an injury to your spinal cord. The
point of the knife penetrated the spinal column, displacing a disk and
injuring the cord. If you could feel anything of your lower extremities
then you'd know that we have you immobilized to prevent further injury. "

	"How long...how long will I be like this?" Brandon asked.

	"I'm sorry; it's too soon to tell. Once the swelling is reduced
we'll take a closer look."

	"Is the paralysis permanent?"

	"I don't like to guess Mr. Clark. You have a chance, but I can't
give you the odds. Unlike most nerves in the body our spinal cord doesn't
regenerate very well if at all. The wound caused damage to the structure;
we may be able to fix that with surgery.

	"I can't say how well you'll recover because it's too soon to
tell. But I've seen patients with worse damage eventually get back on their
feet. It will take extreme patience on your part, the surgery I mentioned,
and a lot of physical therapy.

	"But the greatest factor in all this Mr. Clark is you. The body
heals with time, but what you think is of paramount importance. The body
responds to your thoughts, the healing process will occur much faster if
you maintain a positive attitude."

	"I have every reason in the world to get better," Brandon said.

	"Right now you're heavily medicated, but now that you're awake I'll
reduce your meds. Not completely, but it will allow you to feel pain
Mr. Clark, at least I hope so. It will give you a place to focus your
thoughts and allow us to diagnose the damage."

	"Thanks Doctor. I'll try my best to help you," Brandon said.

	Goodwin smiled. "Your young friends have been here every day; it's
driving the nurses crazy. So the sooner we get you healed the better for
all of us."

	"Alan...he was hurt..."

	"Yes, a nasty cut to his left cheek. Your boss, Ms. Stanford had
Doctor Kiplinger called in to work on him. I'd never met the man before but
I know his reputation as a plastic surgeon. I saw the wound, there will be
a scar I'm afraid. But Kiplinger has magic hands they say, it may save the
boy's looks."

	Goodwin wrote something down on the chart in his hand and handed it
to the waiting nurse.

	"Reduce the dose to one hundred and fifty milligrams. If he
complains of the discomfort call me and I'll boost it back up."

	"Yes, Doctor," she said.

	"Mr Clark, I'm reducing your meds. Try not to move around too much,
it will only increase the pain. But without the full medication you may
regain some feeling in your lower extremities. Give it time, Mr. Clark,
recovery will not happen quickly. By tomorrow we'll see about getting you
back on solid food."

	Goodwin left and the nurse replaced the bag of fluid attached by
tubes to his arm. She adjusted the drip and smiled. "Are you thirsty,
Mr. Clark? The doctor says you may have clear liquids to drink, would you
like some ginger ale?"

	"Yes, please," Brandon said. "Uh...nurse?"

	"Nancy...yes?"

	"Is Alan...is my boy still here?"

	"Mr. Bennett ought to be back from the cafeteria by now; he's been
living in the waiting room I believe. The staff has been looking out for
him and that other nice young man."

	"Bobby...have they been here all along?"

	"They come every morning and don't leave until we tell them they
have to go, but that nice bodyguard is always here with them, so don't you
worry."

	"Thanks, Nancy."

	"I'll go see if they're back and tell them you're awake, I'm sure
they'd like to see you."

	And then Brandon was alone with his thoughts. Recovery...a nasty
word because it described almost nothing. At least he could move his head
and arms; his body just stopped working somewhere in the middle.

	Monica...dead...good, and he put aside all thoughts of her. Poor
Alan, the boy had been scared out of his wits because of that
bitch. Brandon tried to remember the attack but everything was
vague. Someone would have to tell him what had happened, someone other than
Alan.

	Jack...poor Jack, he had to feel guilty. Brandon vaguely recalled
Alan yelling something...yes, the boy had yelled 'knife.' It was part of
the training he had received from Jack, poor Jack. He would feel like he
had failed.

	Brandon heard the door open and turned his head. The motion caused
a flash of pain in his back, but not too bad. And then his heart felt joy.

	"Brand...you're awake," Alan said. His face had a smile, but not
the big smile.

	"Hello, lover," Brandon said. "I hear you've been hanging around,
you don't have to do that."

	Alan's eyes held tears, but the boy was trying to be brave. "I
wouldn't be anywhere else."

	And then Alan leaned down to kiss him and Brandon felt the warmth
as their lips touched. He managed to raise a hand to Alan's face, avoiding
the bandage.

	"You feeling better?" Alan asked.

	"Yes, now I feel pain and that's better than nothing," Brandon
said. "And you?"

	Alan touched the bandage on his face. "Two days and we'll see what
I look like."

	And then Brandon began to cry. "It's...it's all my fault, I'm so
sorry, sweetie."

	Alan leaned in close and put two fingers on Brandon's lips. "Stop
that, you did nothing wrong. She was crazy on drugs, Brand. They found a
huge amount of amphetamine in her blood; she was out of her mind."

	Brandon smiled as Alan wiped the tears away. "Such a brave
boy...you have no idea how much I love you right now."

	And the old Alan smile came through. "I love you so much, we'll get
through this."

	"Oh God...what about Bobby and Theresa?" Brandon said.

	"Bobby is right here with me, he's been with me all the
way. Theresa is over every evening. As you can imagine this is all over the
news, she has to deal with all that."

	"Can I talk to Bobby...yeah, Bobby and then Jack," Brandon said.

	"I'll go get Bobby for you," Alan said.

	"You can stay too. What I have to say is for the both of you,"
Brandon said.

	And then there was Bobby's face. The smile gone, fear in his eyes.

	"Bobby...are you OK?" Brandon asked.

	Bobby nodded and Brandon reached out a hand for the boy. The grip
was soft, anxiety was written all over the boy's face.

	"I'm sorry Bobby; you didn't need to see all this," Brandon
said. "I just want you to know, nothing has changed. I still want you to
stay here with Alan."

	And now tears rolled down the boy's face, he had been so afraid
that he would be sent back. Brandon nodded and placed a hand on Bobby's
chest.

	"We have love Bobby...you and me and Alan. It will grow in your
heart as it does in mine. You have so much to do here. I will still help
you."

	Bobby smiled through the tears and leaned down to kiss Brandon.

	"Bobby loves you," he whispered, kissing Brandon again.

	"Both of you will have to put up with me like this for a while,"
Brandon said. "The doctor says it's too soon to tell what will happen. But
he tells me I have to work hard if I'm going to walk again, it might take a
long time."

	Bobby nodded and looked over at Alan. "We'll be here for you,
whatever it takes," Alan said.

	Brandon grimaced as a pain shot through his back and down his
legs. He gasped and then laughed.

	"Are you OK?" Alan asked.

	"Yes, I felt pain in my legs and that's a good sign, I can still
feel them. Did you two eat dinner yet?"

	"No, we're waiting for Theresa," Alan said. "She's been with us a
lot Brand; I think she likes the mother image."

	"She's a fine lady, Alan...don't mess with her. Is Jack here?"

	"I'll go get him, he's wanted to talk to you," Alan said. "Go easy
on him; he's kinda fragile at the moment."

	Brandon nodded and the boys left replaced a few moments later by
Jack.

	"Jack...you OK?"

	The man's face said it all, he felt like a failure.

	"Brandon...I..."

	"No kiss of hello?" Brandon said.

	And Jack leaned over, the kiss brief and sad. "I'm so sorry...I
just..."

	"Stop right there," Brandon said. "All our defenses were down, she
came out of nowhere and it's not your fault. I remember Alan yelling
'knife.' You taught him that, he remembered. That means you're a good
teacher, Jack...and I don't want to lose you. We need you more than ever."

	"Oh God, Brand...I feel so bad about this."

	"Then we'll have to overcome that. The doc says I may walk again
and that means a lot of physical therapy. I want you there Jack, you and
Barry. Don't stop teaching Alan, and find time to include Bobby. I'll need
them both fit and strong to help me recover from all this."

	Jack took his hand; the eyes were warm and loving. "I'll be here
for all of you, don't worry."

	"One of these days when we both can deal with it you'll have to
tell me, Jack. I don't remember anything of importance. Let me know when
you have the time. I had no idea she was so insane."

	Jack frowned. "I still have an appointment with the coroner's
office. I broke her fucking neck and they want to talk to me about that."

	"I'll tell Theresa to get her lawyer involved; you were just doing
what she hired you to do."

	Brandon grimaced as another flash of pain shot down his leg, and
then he laughed at Jack's look of concern.

	"Pain...it's a good thing. Means I can feel something down there. I
imagine there will be a lot of pain before this is all over. I'm just happy
to be alive," Brandon said.

	Jack smiled. "Pain management, that's something I understand."

	"Good, then we'll get through this together. Are the boys doing
alright?"

	"Alan cried a lot, but having Bobby there certainly helped. I was
worried about Bobby for a while, hell of a way to be introduced to this
place, but he's calmed down."

	"I told him nothing would change, he would stay with us and feel
loved," Brandon said.

	"He and Alan are sleeping in separate bedrooms, I thought you
should know."

	"I was afraid of that," Brandon said. "We started something good
down there; I don't want it to end."

	"Alan won't sleep with him until you come home, he told me that. I
don't mean to butt into your business but the boy has been talking to me
about things."

	"Nothing wrong with that, I don't need to know what he said."

	"We went to church last Sunday; he prays for you...we all do."

	"Thanks Jack...I needed to hear that."

	Jack smiled. "You are lucky in love, Brand. That boy won't even
talk about sex without mentioning you. Bobby will have to be patient,
that's all."

	"I just don't know what will happen with me. If I can't move I
can't perform, he needs me to be whole again."

	"Then we work on it," Jack said. "He has a career to think about,
Theresa is planning to keep him very busy I hear. You just do whatever it
takes Brand; we'll all be here for you."


					* * * * *

	There were moments when Brandon knew that pain was his best
friend. He didn't reject the feeling, he embraced it. And over time they
got to know one another quite well.

	But the pain was progress, or so the doctor said, and then it took
on a whole new dimension. Physical therapy was nothing more than a new
level of pain, a costly form of torture. The male nurse that administered
the therapy soon realized he had two assistants in Alan and Jack, and they
weren't going away.

	His therapist was named Brian, a dear man with a perpetual smile,
although Brandon wondered how he could be that happy with all the pain he
saw every day. But maybe it was because Brian wasn't on the receiving end,
it seemed logical enough. Or maybe it was because he was gay and in awe of
the men who helped him administer the healing.

	Jack and Alan would strip to the waist when they lowered Brandon
onto the whirlpool bath. His muscles were weak and he had to be supported
in every way as he was placed in the bathing chair. But finally they would
lower him into the water and stand back.

	Brandon caught Brian's glance and he almost laughed, but he kept
their relationship strictly professional. And it was there in that bath
during the second month of his recovery that Brandon discovered something
wonderful. His cock got hard.

	Being naked there was little he could do to cover the condition and
Alan quickly noticed.

	"Oh God...you can feel it?" The boy asked.

	Brandon nodded, his face split in the biggest grin.

	Brian smiled. "It seems Mr. Clark is getting some feeling back."
And he scribbled it all down in his little notebook."

	Two days later Doctor Goodwin was back.

	"I hear good things about your reaction to therapy." Brandon
couldn't believe the man said it with such a straight face. Did everyone
know he'd popped a boner?

	Goodwin looked at his chart. "You're down to oral meds, solid food
intake is good and you're managing the pain very well. How would you like
to go home?"

	Brandon laughed. "I'd miss your hospitality, but please...kick me
out."

	Goodwin smiled. "I just might save the nursing staff after all, but
they'll be mad at me for this. I can send you home with a few
qualifications. Bed rest, daily visits by a therapist and round the clock
nursing care for the first week until you adjust.

	"I don't want you sitting in a wheel chair just yet; it will put
too much pressure on your spine." Goodwin walked to the foot of the bed and
drew back the sheet exposing Brandon's feet. He drew the tip of his pen
across the soles of Brandon's right foot and watched it jerk. "You feel
that don't you?"

	"Yes, it tickles."

	"I want you back in two weeks for another CAT scan. I can almost
say with certainty that your spine is recovering, good news for you. But
don't push it; there is still a good bit of healing that needs to take
place. Your disk is still ruptured and I think we can fix that in a couple
of months, but I want the nerves to heal first.

	"I don't want you to think this is it. If you fall at this point
the damage may increase and that will end any chances we have for a full
recovery. Get some rest, allow others to fetch and carry for you. But think
positive, Mr. Clark, you've come a long way."

	"Thanks Doc. You think there's a chance I'll walk again?"

	Goodwin smiled. "It's a better chance now than it was two months
ago. And just because you can gain an erection I don't want you to think
sex is back in your life. You may have spontaneous ejaculations on
occasion; enjoy that, but nothing else. Once you're strong enough to sit in
a wheel chair I'll reconsider that recommendation. Be happy, at least it
still works."

	Goodwin left and Nancy came back in the room. "Leaving us I
hear...it will break a lot of hearts when you go."

	Brandon laughed. "I assume you ladies will miss Alan and not me."

	Nancy frowned. "Don't put yourself down, Mr. Clark. Some of us
still prefer a real man over a boy any day." She patted his arm. "I'll go
see if your lunch is ready."

	They carried him home in an ambulance the following morning. Two
months, seven days and ten hours since he'd been admitted. Brandon knew he
shouldn't count the time like that, but he'd never felt so happy to come
home.

	The condo had been outfitted to accommodate him. There was a
hospital bed in the living room and one in the bedroom he shared with
Alan. They felt it was important he feel a part of their lives again and
Brandon could only be thankful.

	They sat down to a meal, Brandon in his bed at one end of the table
and the others spread out down the length. Raising his head meant putting
some pressure on his spine but Brandon said nothing and the initial pain
soon passed.

	Alan became the consummate nurse, even to the point of emptying the
bed pans. Brandon shuddered at the memory of when they removed the catheter
from his system. He was home and life was back to normal, well almost.

	Brandon endured the daily torture session, the baths and the nurse
poking and prodding him. Then it became routine and they moved on.

	Theresa was a frequent guest; Jack and Barry were always
present. They were a family once again. And as such they guided Alan's
business life and the limited social engagements he was required to attend.

	The scar on his face had healed; the plastic surgeon had done a
wonderful job. But there was still a thin red line, faint and barely
noticeable, but they knew it was there. Christmas and New Year's had been
spent at Brandon's bedside, he now felt guilty about that.

	Teen Star had carried the news and a photo of Alan with the
bandage. The outpouring of sympathy was overwhelming and Theresa had to
hire two clerks just to handle the mail. But Jack had done her one better,
he put Alan online.

	Fan sites seemed to spring up overnight; the outpouring of
adolescent love embarrassed the poor boy to death. And then he began a
blog, setting up his own website and getting Bobby involved. The response
doubled when Alan introduced Bobby to the world. Theresa couldn't ignore
that.

	Brandon hadn't been home but three days when Jack came over with a
big smile on his face. "Someone is here to see you," He announced, and he
led Maida and Chu-chu into the room.

	It was a rousing reunion although Brandon couldn't drink any of the
beers because of his meds. Bobby was overjoyed to see his friends and Alan
sat back with a smile.

	"You engineered all this didn't you?" Brandon asked.

	Alan laughed. "Someone had to pay for the tickets."

	"I keep forgetting you have all that money now," Brandon said.

	"Look who's talking, lots of royalties coming your way."

	And Alan was right, they were sitting pretty. But with Maida there
Theresa soon had Bobby under contract, his career was off and running. The
visit lasted only a week before Maida begged off; he'd left paradise in the
hands of two sixteen year old boys. This time Bobby didn't cry when Maida
left, the boy was growing up.

	 By June the boys were in such demand they were working full weeks
in the studio. The products Theresa cultivated were diverse; the boys were
loaded down with free samples of clothes, shoes and electronic devices. It
really was like Christmas.

	Theresa didn't have them travel; it was studio or location shots
only. Steve Barnes had picked up the work on Brandon's recommendation and
the man did an incredible job. So when they all gathered at the condo one
evening Brandon thought it was because they were going to talk work. It was
something else entirely.

	Alan popped a few bottles of champagne that Theresa had brought,
not the cheap stuff either. And when the glasses were passed around Jack
brought a box into the room. Alan took the floor.

	"With due respect to Steve over there, Brandon is the greatest
photographer I've ever met. Many people seem to agree with me. I had
nothing but time on my hands while Brandon went through a long recovery and
something came to mind.

	"A lot of his fellow photographers contacted me, asking about him
and how he was doing. These folks, Steve included, responded to my idea and
we pooled our resources to come up with this."

	With that Jack opened the box and handed Brandon a large book. The
title said, "One Man's Paradise, Treasure of the Bahamas." And there on the
cover was paradise in all its glory. Brandon was speechless.

	Jack passed around the copies and everyone sat turning the
pages. The people, the places, it was a wonderful look at paradise. And
then Theresa found the photo that would bring Brandon such fame.

	"Oh My God..." Theresa said, and Alan smiled.

	"I think she's stuck on page twenty-three," Alan said.

	And Brandon knew which photo it was even before the page
opened. The colors, the boy's smiles, the suggestiveness...it all made for
an outstanding photo. For there in front of him was the very definition of
paradise.

	Theresa cleared her throat. "Were you naked?" She asked, and Alan
smiled at the blush in her cheeks.

	"Everyone was, we only put on clothes to come home," Alan laughed.

	"Alan..." Brandon said, and the boy turned. "Thank you...it's
wonderful, the best present I ever received."

	Alan came into his arms for the kisses he deserved, and everyone in
the room smiled, especially Bobby. Brandon saw the boy over Alan's shoulder
and beckoned him over. Alan saw the smile on Brandon's face and moved over
so Bobby could get his hug.

	Brandon looked deep into Bobby's eyes. "I saw something in you the
day we took that photo...something special. And here you are with your own
contract, your own way of making a life for yourself. I saw all that
potential inside of you and now it's come true. I am happy for you Bobby;
you are so dear to me."

	They all spent several hours talking about the book and then the
party split up. Jack and Alan carried Brandon into the bedroom and went
through the nightly ritual, and then Jack left.

	"Thank you, the book was sweet, even better than I imagined,"
Brandon said.

	Alan came over and sat down beside him. "All your friends helped,
it was really an amazing thing."

	"It's the sweetest expression of love you've ever shown me...well
except for our other activities. I'm sorry...I didn't mean to bring that
up," Brandon said.

	"No, it's OK...maybe we should talk about it. What did the doctor
tell you about having sex?"

	"He said I would get erections and probably cum, but what we call
sex isn't there just yet...I'm sorry. I know you must feel pretty left out,
sex was a pretty big part of how we shared our love."

	"I want you so badly...but I'll wait, no matter how long it takes,"
Alan said.

	Brandon nodded. "You're so brave...but have you considered sleeping
with Bobby?"

	Alan stood up and walked to the other side of the room and
back. "No...I can't, not while you're like this...I would feel guilty. I
know we shared him, but I could never betray your trust."

	"And what if I said it was all right, would you make love to him?"

	"Oh Brand, why would you say that...I don't want him without you
there."

	"But sweetie...I am here."

	"But you can't...oh, I see. Would it turn you on enough?" Alan
asked...a silly smile creeping onto his face.

	"One way to find out, but I think it's as close as I can get to
having you. But what will Bobby think?"

	Alan smiled. "I think he'll love the idea. Should I go ask him?"

	"Please, my cock is getting hard already," Brandon said.

	Alan went for the door and stopped running back to Brandon's
side. "I love you...no one ever treated me like you do." And then he laid a
big kiss on Brandon's lips, his tongue sliding into a more than willing
mouth. And Brandon gasped when Alan pulled back.

	"You better hurry," Brandon groaned.

	Alan was back in less than two minutes, a very naked Bobby by his
side.

	"Bobby...is this good for you?" Brandon asked.

	"For you anything," Bobby said, his smile lighting up the room.

	The boys approached Brandon's prone figure and pulled back the
sheets. Brandon had taken to sleeping in shorts during his hospital
stay. There was now a mighty tent in his boxers. Carefully Alan slid them
off and Bobby giggled.

	Alan slid off his own shorts and they stood naked beside Brandon's
bed.

	"What should we do?" Alan asked.

	"I know Bobby wants you to, go all the way," Brandon suggested.

	"Seriously?" Alan asked.

	"Yes, I'll just watch quietly until I explode," Brandon laughed.

	And so there beside him, not four feet away, Alan lay down with
Bobby. It was the best for all of them Brandon knew, and if it worked it
would ease a lot of his tension. For a week he had looked at the boys as
they paraded their nudity without a thought to what effect it might have.

	Paradise had taught them to be proud of their bodies, he could
never undo that. That sense of ego was vital to their success as
models...as human beings. For just being adored by the public left a hollow
feeling, it was so impersonal. But the boys had one another and Brandon
would encourage that shared adoration, their lives depended on it.

	He watched Alan begin the ritual, using his skill to heat Bobby up
to the melting point before he gave the boy what he wanted. Bobby had such
beautiful nipples and Alan attacked them with glee.

	And the boys seemed to focus on one another. It was important to
the role they were playing out in front of Brandon. They would give him the
most exciting time of his life if they could, all to see if they could
bring him off by remote control.

	The boys licked and chewed on one another, driving the passions up
slowly, knowing very well where this was all going. And as their bodies
shifted around to seek a higher form of pleasure Brandon felt a tingling in
his balls.  Oh God, yes...I need this, he thought.

	In the beginning Bobby had started off with a very mechanical way
of sucking, but that all changed with practice. Now Brandon watched him
take Alan in his mouth and suckle that cock like a baby going for a tit. It
was a brief tease, sometimes painful Brandon knew, but then the boy slid
his mouth down over Alan until he could handle no more.

	Alan was a cock lover, knowing full well his skill affected
others...especially Brandon. But now he turned that craft on Bobby and he
ended up deep throating the boy. Brandon knew that cock was in the back of
Alan's throat where it was being teased. Alan liked to swallow a lot,
stroking the head and driving the owner crazy. As if to prove that Bobby
gave out a loud groan.

	Alan teased for a while, enjoying Bobby's efforts but looking for
the bigger game to begin. And when he'd had enough Alan pulled away and
turned around. Bobby gazed up at him with a smile as Alan raised the boy's
legs.

	It had taken Bobby a while to enjoy being rimmed, maybe all of
forty seconds that first time. Brandon remembered the boy's gasp as he laid
his tongue between Bobby's ass cheeks and the groan of sheer delight when
he plunged in. He reacted the same now as Alan possessed that hole with his
tongue...and Brandon felt his cock throb.

	Just watching Bobby thrashing around in response to that tongue
gave Brandon a thrill and a sense of anticipation. He had watched the boys
become competent lovers over the weeks they shared in paradise, and yet now
there was a tinge of jealousy. No, he had to put that aside, after all they
were doing this for him...with him.

	And when Alan judged the heat was turned up hot enough he raised
his head and moved between Bobby's legs. Brandon leaned over to watch the
penetration and heard Bobby groan. The sound made his cock throb, and that
was a good thing.

	Alan's slow purposeful strokes drove Bobby crazy with passion, all
the moans and groans said as much. For his part Alan was focused on the
feeling he was creating, and so was Brandon. For deep inside he felt
something happening, something he had not felt in a long time.

	And when Bobby shuddered from the pleasure so did Brandon and that
brought back the pain. But he would not surrender; he just focused harder
on what his body was feeling. Then Alan gasped, the juices were beginning
to flow. His pumping increased and Brandon could almost feel that cock in
his rear.

	"Oh God," Brandon gasped as he felt the pressure rising...it was
going to happen.

	Alan kept slamming himself against Bobby's ass, driving the boy mad
and fully aware of what it was doing to Brandon.

	"Oh....ahh...cumming," Alan groaned, and that was enough.

	Brandon almost screamed as the orgasm pushed him to the edge and
then he saw Alan's smile as the boy cut loose inside Bobby. They shared a
glance as Brandon's cock erupted, the pleasure mixed with pain...but he
didn't care.

	Even Bobby looked to see what was happening and he saw Brandon's
cock erupt, the spurts rising and falling back on his stomach. Brandon let
out a huge groan and found himself tingling from head to toe. OK, now he
could do something with his feelings.And he began to laugh with relief.

	From then on Bobby slept in Brandon's bed with Alan. They all knew
it was only a matter of time before it would be the three of them once
again. And it allowed Brandon the peace of watching them sleep on those
nights when his thoughts kept him awake.

	Fate...that little four letter word. Fate had made him cross that
bridge one sunny afternoon, otherwise he never would have known Alan
existed. His life would have been empty; he would never have known the joy
of loving someone so dear.

	Now that they shared their life and love with another, Brandon felt
Alan could finally understand. Just by crossing that bridge and reaching
out to someone Brandon had changed his world. Alan would have his day,
perhaps he already had. For them there would be no end...only beginnings.



					 * * * * *

And thus ends a long and wonderful story, and yet I promise an Epilogue
very quickly to tie up all the loose ends. As I have said before,
characters never die in my mind, they just go to sleep.

For those who need further stimulation I recommend a vist to youtube, key
words "Male Fashion Model." There you will find enough beauty to keep you
up nights, and I don't mean losing sleep.

I'm sure I will hear from many of you about ending this story here. It has
all been but a glimpse of these lives I've created. I cannot go on spinning
a tale with so many other things begging for attention. And wherever you
are I hope you find a bridge in your life...just don't be afraid to cross
it.

Peace,
Chris James
drmeta4@gmail.com