Max’s Freudian Slip - Chapter #20

by craigpnifty@protonmail.com

Author’s notes:

Finally, Max and Craig arrive in Mexico.   I wonder what trouble they might get into….

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Chapter 20 – Viva Mexico!

We weren’t 10 minutes into our first flight when I looked over and saw that Max was sound asleep against the bulkhead.   Even the infusion of caffeine from his Starbucks drink apparently wasn’t enough to overcome his lack of sleep.   I couldn’t help but to admire how cute he was when he was dozed:  His soft complexion framed by his blond hair.  His mouth slightly open as his face twitched with each breath.

I decided having a cat nap wasn’t a bad idea at all.   I leaned my seat back an inch or two, just enough to lean my head against the edge of Max’s seat.   I must have managed to doze off for quite a while.  By the time I woke up, I realized the flight attendants had already been through the cabin with drink service.  I also realized Max had shifted and was now curled up against me and was lightly gripping my arm.  He looked cold.  As was I.  It was a little chilly on the plane.  I reached up and cut off our air to warm us up a little bit.

I straightened myself and finished the rest of my coffee which I had shoved in the seat back before dozing off.  While cold, it still had the caffeine I needed to liven up my senses.   The older black lady who had the aisle seat next to me gave me a warm smile.  “Your son sleeping curled up against you like that sure warmed my heart.  You must be raising him right.  Most boys his age wouldn’t be caught dead showing affection like that.”

I started to correct her and tell her that Max wasn’t my son, but then I realized it would be easier to just go with it.  Maybe Max had a point after all.   “Thank you,” I whispered, glancing over at Max.  “He’s a pretty special kid.  But he’s so out I’m not sure he’s doing anything other than trying to stay warm.”

“Pshhhaw,” she replied, waving her hand towards me.

The two of us had a nice conversation as our flight made its way to Atlanta.  She was a grandmother with two young grandsons.  I told her Max and I were on a father son trip to do some bonding and to get to do some things Max had always had to miss because of his gymnastics.   Going along with this fib wasn’t proving to be difficult at all.

***

Max stayed asleep all the way into Atlanta, not stirring until the rather rough landing jolted him into consciousness.   He looked up at me and smiled.  “Are we in Mexico?” he asked.  Silly boy had already forgotten we had a layover in Atlanta.  “Shit, I really gotta pee, bad!” he added before I could clue him in that we were in Georgia.

“Were in Atlanta, and you’ll have to hold it until we deplane,” I told him.

I could tell by the way his legs were bouncing he really had to go.  Thankfully our seats were near the front of the plane and it didn’t take long for the rows ahead of us to empty.  “You and your son have a blessed trip,” the nice lady who had sat beside me said to us as we did a fast walk up the Jetway to the nearest bathroom.

I sidled up to the urinal next to Max.  While I couldn’t see anything thanks to those pesky tall dividers, I could certainly hear his heavy stream of piss splash against the porcelain.   As you probably recall, I’d noticed previously that Max’s piss flow is heavy.  The boy pisses like a fire hose.   I could tell that was even more the case on a full bladder.  I had to laugh as he let out several sighs and moans as the pressure on his bladder was relieved.   He was clearly oblivious to the fact that he almost sounded like someone having an orgasm.

***

We touched down in Cozumel about 12:30.  We were fortunate to be one of the first planes to land and found the immigration area practically empty, with the agents waiting for us.   We had our bags and were out the door to the shuttle vans in no time.   In Cozumel, there is only one approved method for arriving passengers to get to their hotels – a shared-van shuttle system.   They basically load up a van going to roughly the same area of the island and then head out when it’s full, or nearly full.   The only other option is to walk off the airport grounds and hail a taxi, which if you are traveling light works great.  But with me pulling my heavy bag of dive gear, that was not an option.

Max and I were the first ones on the van and then we got stuck waiting.   “What are we waiting for?  Why can’t we leave? I’m freaking starving,” Max started to complain.

“Have to get a few more people, just relax.  We’ll eat as soon as we get to the resort.  It’s only about a 20 minute ride,” I told him.  “Why don’t you send a Snapchat to Cam and Noah or something?” I suggested.

“Oh yeah, good idea.”   I was glad he was quit whining.  It wasn’t something I had seen from Max, and I really hadn’t considered there would be any issues with Max on this trip.  I wondered if being with him for extended period of time would allow me to see some sides of Max that I don’t normally have to deal with.

We waited another five minutes and then finally a large party showed up to fill up the van.   It was a large Mexican family from Monterrey (Mexico).   There was a middle aged mom and dad, with three sons and a small daughter and an older couple, which I assume to be the kid’s abuelos.  The oldest two boys looked fairly close in age and also appeared to be about the same age as Max.  The third son was about 5 or 6 and the daughter maybe two or three. 

When they climbed into the van, one of the older boys, Eduardo, ended up sitting next to Max.  I don’t know if it was fate that put them together on the van, but the two said hello and seemingly became instant friends, sharing some clash royale game on their phones as we drove.   As the boys played their video games, the other older brother looking over the seat watching, the father (who spoke decent English) introduced his family.   His wife Maria was accompanied by her parents (who spoke no English).  The older boys were twins, though they didn’t look alike, so they were clearly not fraternal.   Eduardo, the taller and skinner of the two was the one sitting next to and playing games with Max.   Peter, his twin was shorter, stockier, and more athletic.  They had turned 13 a few months before.  Their little brother, who sported a spry smile and spiked hair, was Marcelo. He was six years old.  Anna was the little girl. 

I was very happy to hear they were going to the same resort as Max and I.  It meant a direct trip to our resort and also, it meant Max already had a couple potential friends to hang out with.  Finally, I must add, all three boys were pretty nice to look at.  Marcelo was a little cutie.   Eduardo was cute in a nerdy sort of way and Peter was hot in an athletic studly kind of way.  All different - but all cute.  (It’s almost as if I like boys or something?) And they seemed like a nice family.   They had never been to this resort, or Cozumel, so I spent much of the drive giving them some tips to make their stay better.

***

We got checked in quickly and much to my surprise, our room was actually ready.  We’d stayed here many times and we’ve always had to wait until at least 3:00 to get into our room.   That was nice, as it meant we could swim right away versus having to wait or worse, having to change in a bathroom or something.   The manager who was doing our check-in knew somehow that I had been to the resort several times.  “I think you’ll really enjoy the room we’ve picked for you this time Mr. Peters,” he told me.  I didn’t really pay much attention to what he was saying at the time to be honest.   The cute Mexican boys from the van were beside us at the counter and I was glancing that way frequently, looking them up and down and admiring them from behind.

Next to us, the Mexican family wasn’t having as much luck with their rooms.  None of their three rooms were ready and they were quite disappointed, especially after watching them hand Max and I our room keys.  “Hey,” I said getting their attention.  “If you want to put some stuff in our room and change your clothes there, you could.”  I really didn’t think they would take me up on it.  I just felt after our friendly van ride in, at least offering it seemed like the right thing to do.

The dad, Andres, declined, just as I expected.  “Oh no senor, we couldn’t impose on you like that.”

“It’s no trouble at all, really,” I pressed, trying to impress with good manners.

“Por favor papa,” Peter interrupted, “we want to get in the pool and need to dig our suits out.”   At least that is what I think he said.  My Spanish is iffy.

“Are you sure it’s no problem,” the dad, Andres, asked, apparently rethinking his decline.

“None at all,” I assured him.

“Well then, I will send the boys up with their stuff to change.   The rest of us just really want to get something to eat.”  He voiced instructions to the two 13 year olds in rapid Spanish that I couldn’t comprehend.  Whatever he said, they both were noticeably happy to hear it.

“That’s perfect.  We can meet you at the snack bar in just a few minutes,” I replied.   I pointed out the location of the snack bar which is on an island in the middle of the main pool.   “The snack bar has good tacos and burgers.  Better and faster than the buffet for lunch,” I added.

That’s when I looked down and saw little Marcelo pulling on his dad’s wrist.   “Papa!  Papa.  Yo tambien?  Quiero nadar.”  Me too papa? I want to swim. That I was able to make out. 

“And take Marcelo with you,” I heard him tell his sons.

***

Max and I headed off to the elevator with our young Mexican amigos following along.  We were placed on the top (10^th)) floor, as high as I’ve ever been at this resort, so the ride up the glass elevator looking out over the resort and the ocean was quite spectacular.  “Wow, look at that pool,” Marcelo exclaimed excitedly, pointing.  His brothers were trying to calm him – I think slightly embarrassed by his excitement, but also clearly trying to be polite.  I reassured them it was fine and that he had good reason to be excited.  It is a great pool.

Our room was a few doors down from the elevator.  When I opened the door I was taken aback.  The rooms here tend to be pretty basic.  But this one was spectacular.  It had a small living room area that I had never had in any of our previous stays.  It was definitely an upgraded suite!!  On the desk was a welcome gift consisting of a bottle of champagne and a tray of fruit and chocolate covered strawberries.

I was so blown away by the size of the room that I didn’t even notice initially that the room just had one king sized bed.   We had always had two doubles at this resort.   The ironic thing is that if you read the reviews of this place, one of the most common complaints is the lack of rooms with king size beds for couples.   And now the one time I actually planned to have two beds, I get the king.  Oh well.

“Where should we put our….uh…. maletas?” Eduardo asked, unable to find the English word for suitcase.

“Suitcase,” I said.  “How about on the couch?” I suggested, pointing.  I dropped my backpack on the bed and pulled out our swim trunks.   I tossed Max his.   “I’ll change first,” I said to no one in particular as I headed for the bathroom with my swim suit and contact lenses.  I needed to take a piss, so I figured I would change quickly and then free up the bathroom for whoever wanted to go next.   I knew Max had no modesty, but my assumption was the other boys would probably be somewhat shy and take turns in the bathroom once I was done.

While I was putting in my contacts, I heard some commotion outside in the room.   I couldn’t hear well enough to understand what was being said, but I heard Marcelo’s squeaky voice say something loudly, followed by one of his brothers clearly admonishing him.   I quickly dried my hands and came out into the room.  “Everything OK out here?  Esta bien?” I asked. 

I noticed right away that Max and the two older Mexican boys had already changed.  They were shirtless, in just their swimwear.  Only little Marcelo hadn’t changed and he was hopping around shirtless, in just his underwear, little briefs with some cartoon characters on them.   “Hurry up and get changed,” Peter said to his little brother in a rather harsh tone.

Eduardo looked up at me.  “I’m sorry Senor, our little brother….” he said just shaking his head.  I could tell Eduardo was embarrassed by whatever had happened while I was in the bathroom but was having a hard time to find the English words to explain.

I was so confused.  “Ummm… what did I miss?” I asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Max answered.  “It was nothing,” he said waving his hand.   Eduardo broke a slight smile hearing Max’s reply.   While talking with Max and Eduardo I had completely missed that Marcelo had stripped naked and was being helped by Peter to pull on a little boy Speedo.  I caught a glimpse just in time to see him pull the navy blue Cars Speedo up over his little hairless noodle.

“Ok, then,” I shrugged.  “I need to wait for the bellman to bring our bags.   You guys can head on down to the snack bar and get something to eat.  I’ll be down in a few minutes.”  I showed Max through the patio door exactly where the snack hut was located.   When I turned back, Marcelo was eyeing the plate of fruit and hesitantly reaching for a grape.

“Marcelo!” Peter yelled causing Marcelo to pull his hand back.   He looked a little sad.   “Sorry senor, again.  Marcelo.. he…” Peter tried to explain.

“Esta bien Peter.  Es no problemo,” I told them.   I approached Marcelo.  “Te gustan uvas mijo?” I asked him.  (Do you like grapes buddy?)  He nodded enthusiastically.   I tore off a bunch of grapes and handed them to the boy.   He gave me a huge smile.

The four of them headed for the door.  “Gracias Senor,” chirped Eduardo and Peter on their way out.   Peter nudged Marcelo, who turned, and with a mouth full of grapes, parroted his siblings ‘thank you’ before bouncing down the hallway.  The little guy was a bundle of excitement and I could tell the parents instilled some manners in all of them, though Marcelo was still learning.  But I was still lost as to what I had missed when I was in the bathroom.

***

Once they left, I pulled a cold Corona from the fridge and popped it open.  I noticed the boys had placed their clothes atop their bags on before they left.  I couldn’t resist investigating what kind of underwear the boys wore.   I checked Marcelo’s first.  His were little iron man briefs.  He was a skinny kid and his briefs looked tiny.   Eduardo’s underwear was a black athletic style.  They looked small to me as well, as he too was skinny.   I looked around the empty room, which was silly because I knew nobody was there, and then brought them to my nose, inhaling the scent of Mexican boy dick.   There was a slight smell of sweat, but there was something else.  It had to be the scent of a sweet teen cockhead regularly covered under a layer of foreskin.   I could just imagine inhaling that scent as I peeled back the boy’s foreskin, just before I extend my tongue and –….

I was interrupted by a knock at the door and I was so startled at being caught sniffing my new young friend’s underwear that I jumped slightly and my heart raced.   I let the bellman in and he stacked our bags on the bench by the door.   I gave him a five spot and sent him off.   I was hungry and wanted to join gang downstairs, but I couldn’t resist finishing my inspection.

Peter’s underwear was red and blue Tommy Hilfiger boxer briefs.  His scent was mustier than his brothers, and there was scent of piss too.   Peter needs to do a better job of shaking off before putting his dick away.   I put the clothes back as I found them and left the room, images of Mexican boy dick in my mind.

***

I found my way to the snack bar.   Andres had pulled three small tables together and everyone had already gotten some food and some were already finishing.   Andres offered me a chair and asked what I wanted to drink, saying that he would go get it for me while I rounded up some much needed food.   I told him I’d have another beer and went and ordered a cheeseburger from the cook.   For some reason, the cheeseburgers at this place are amazing!   I had sat down and managed to eat about half of it when one of the activities staff came in recruiting people for water polo.   I turned and saw it was an old friend – Armando, who had been there for our last couple of visits.

“Senor,” he exclaimed as soon as he saw me.  “It’s so good to see you again Mr. Craig.  I know you’re going to play, right?” he said to me.   He obviously remembered that I loved water polo (and all the stupid games they play actually).  

“Of course amigo,” I answered.  “Just let me eat a few more bites.”

“No problem, see you in a few,” he answered and walked off.

“You are like royalty here,” Andres commented, a look of amazement on his face.

“Well, it does pay to be a repeat guest.  But hey, now I will tell everyone you are with me, and you’ll get the treatment too,” I replied.  “Salud!” I added raising my glass of beer.

***

Water polo, as usual, was a blast.   Somehow, Max, Eduardo and Peter all ended up on the other team.   So the game quickly became “attack Craig whenever he gets the ball”.  Max started it the first time I tried to approach their goal with the ball.   You don’t realize how strong a 14 year old aspiring gymnast is until he is wrapped around you trying to rip a ball out of your hands!

Peter realized pretty quickly that I was ok with being physical and soon he was joining Max’s attacks.    Eduardo was a bit more hesitant.  Maybe it was the fact that he wasn’t as athletic, but eventually he joined the fray.  What’s not to love about three teen boys rubbing themselves all over you?

Marcelo watched from the side of the pool and giggled every time I would take the mass of teen boys under the water and shake them off.   He clearly found the whole scene hilarious.

After about 30 minutes of being pummeled, I needed a break.   I was a bit sore and one of the boys had clawed me across the chest with his finger nails.  I think it was Eduardo, but I couldn’t be certain.   I decided to see if Marcelo would want to join in on my shoulders so he wouldn’t have to swim.  (The pool was too deep for him to be able to stand.)   “Quieres jugar?” I asked him and motioned to my shoulders.  He quickly nodded and jumped into the water towards me.   Apparently he could swim a little bit - at least enough to jump in the water and paddle a few feet.

I pulled him to me, wrapped an arm around him and sat him on my hip as he dried his face.  His little Cars Speedo was really cute, especially the cute little bump in front that highlighted Lightning McQueen’s grin.   Once I was sure he was ok, I lifted the boy onto my shoulders and we joined the game.   I got my teammates to pass the ball to me and I handed it up to Marcelo and together we waded towards the opposing goal.  “Shoot Marcelo, Shoot,” I told him.  I was remiss I couldn’t think of how to say ‘shoot’ in Spanish.  The dad that was defending the other team’s goal must have my same mindset:  that we were there to make sure the kids had fun.  He moved around appearing to try to defend the goal but managed to get out of the way just in time as Marcelo’s soft shot found its way into the back of the net.

“Goooooooooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalllllllllll,” I yelled out, imitating Mexican soccer announcers whenever someone scores.   “Goooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaallll,” I repeated as an excited little boy bounced on my shoulder.   I caught the eye of his grandparents who were watching and both gave me wide smiles.

Our game continued for about another 15 minutes, during which we managed to let Marcelo score a couple more times.  He was just as excited with each of his subsequent goals as he was with the first.   When the game broke up, Marcelo begged to be thrown up into the air.   “Tirame, tirame,” he kept begging.   Max and I took turns tossing him up into the pool.  The skinny little boy was easy to toss, but Max was even better at throwing him than I was and Marcelo soon was opting to swim to Max over me.

Once we tired of entertaining Marcelo and we all made our way to the pool bar.  I sat Marcelo on the only bar stool and we all gathered around him and ordered something to drink.  While the game had been going on, Andres had managed to get a room and change clothes.  He soon waded up to the pool bar.  “Papi,” Marcelo exclaimed, jumping into his father’s arms.

“I’m glad to see he still loves me,” Andres commented.  “I thought maybe I’d been replaced,” he joked towards me, nodding.  

“Ha!  He appears to still be quite fond of you.”

He sat little Marcelo back on his cement bar stool and turned back to me.  “I hope you don’t mind Senor, but I made reservations for dinner tonight and included two seats for you and Max.  I do hope you would join us?  It is a rather special night.   It is Maria’s birthday and next week is her parent’s 50^th anniversary.   We are celebrating both and please, senor, join us?”

I told them we would love to.  It was great making new friends so quickly.

“Beach volley, beach volley, 15 minutes,” Armando yelled across the pool.  

“I’m in,” yelled.  “Max, Eduardo, Peter?  You guys up for volleyball?”  All three boys nodded.

“Good, let’s get some ice cream… helado… on the way,” I suggested.

Marcelo perked up at hearing the mention of ice cream.  “Helado? Donde?” he asked excitedly.

***

The resort has a small café and coffee shop on the walkway to the beach area.   It’s a great place to grab a coffee in the morning and a good place to grab ice cream about anytime.    I led the gang, Andres included, to the coffee shop and we all ordered a couple scoops.  Little Marcelo got his and promptly climbed up into the booth and scooted next to Max, practically sitting on his lap.  He’s such a cute little guy.   Max gave me a grin that told me he was really enjoying Marcelo warming up to him.

While we were eating a boy of about 12 and his mom came in.  Something about him looked familiar.  His dark hair and light freckles across his nose jogged my memory banks.    He must have had the same feeling because I soon noticed him pointing at me and whisper something to his mom.   She smiled and approached me.  “Were you here two summers ago when we were here I think.  My son says he remembers playing volleyball in the pool with you.”

“Ah yes,” I answered.  “He does look familiar.   What’s your name again?”

“Sebastian,” the dark haired boy answered shyly.  Then it all came back to me.  It was a unique name, so it was easy to recall.  They were from California, if my memory served right.  And Sebastian was a quiet and very polite (and cute) boy.

“From Cali?” I asked.

“Why yes!  That’s right.  Do you remember us?”

“Well, something in my memory banks is clicking anyway,” I answered.  “It will come back to me.” 

“Well, I certainly remember you from the Versus show.  I am pretty sure I have some pictures at home you would find embarrassing,” she said, laughing.

Max was watching the exchange with a grin on his face.   He shook his head at me.  “Do you know EVERYONE here?” he asked.

I shrugged.  “By the time we leave I will.”    I turned my attention back to Sebastian and his mom.  “It’s good to see you guys again.  We just got here so we will see you around?”

“Of course,” mom answered and Sebastian nodded.

***

Andres asked if I could keep an eye out on Eduardo and Peter.  He wanted to take Marcelo back to their room for him to rest before dinner so he wouldn’t be a pill.  I of course was happy to keep an eye on them.

I took the boys on the pathway under the road that led to the beach area and we joined the volleyball game.    I could tell it wasn’t really Eduardo’s thing.  He was not very good at it.  Max was a beast as you might imagine and Peter was pretty good too.   Eduardo soon excused himself and made his way to the bar at the nearby pool while we finished a couple more games.    When the game broke up, I spent some time talking with Armando and catching up with what was going on at the hotel while Peter stayed and talked to some teenage girls from Chile.  I could tell he was flirting, or at least trying to.  They were older than him and I could tell by their body language that they were not going to give him the time of day.

By the time I bid Armando farewell and jumped into the pool, Max and Eduardo had taken their drinks off into a corner of the pool and were having an animated conversation.   I wondered what their topic of conversation could be and whether Max was struggling communicating.   Peter came behind me just as I got my drink and we joined Max and Eduardo.  I couldn’t help but get feeling like we were interrupting something, but they allowed us into the conversation.

The conversation was a bit difficult, with Max not speaking Spanish and Eduardo and Peter having marginal English.  But I was able to figure out that Peter’s big activity was football (soccer) and Eduardo was more into school and video games.  I tried to explain that Max was a gymnast, but I don’t know if either of them understood.

When the bartenders started breaking down the bar, we decided it was time to head back to our rooms for dinner.

***

Eduardo and Peter came with us to our room to retrieve their bags.    “We’ll see you at dinner Senor Craig.  Max,” they said as they left.

Finally!!!  I had a chance to ask Max what had happened in the room earlier.  I had actually forgotten all about it, but arriving back into the room reminded me.   He grinned when I asked.  “Oh that!!! Marcelo was staring at me when I changed.  I couldn’t tell what he was saying but he was pointing at me and asking something very excited like.  I guess he probably never seen a white boys dick or something.”

I laughed. “That may be it, but my guess is that he has probably never seen a circumcised dick ya clod.  I’m sure he and his brothers are all uncircumcised, just like your friend Spencer.”   I didn’t let on I had actually seen Marcelo’s little penis.

“Ohhhhhhhhh, yeah,” Max answered, the light bulb apparently coming on.  “That makes more sense.  But whatever.  I mean it didn’t really matter to me him staring and pointing.  But man, his brothers were so embarrassed, and PISSED at him.”

“I bet,” I answered.  “I was honestly surprised they all changed out here in the open room.  I figured they would take turns in the bathroom or something.”

“I dunno,” Max answered.  “But it didn’t really bother me,” he added with a grin that told me he actually enjoyed seeing them sans clothes.

“Sneak a look did you my little gay friend?” I asked.

“Well DUH! I didn’t see much though.  Eduardo’s looked pretty big, the glimpse I saw of it anyway.  And Peter has a nice ass.  Didn’t really see his D.”   His report was so matter of fact it made me chuckle.   It was like he was reading the morning farm report.  Corn up five cents, Eduardo big cock, hogs down a quarter, Peter nice ass, cattle up a dollar.

“Well, Eduardo is pretty darn skinny,” I commented.

He looked at me funny.  “Skinny guys have bigger dicks?” he asked.

“No, they just LOOK bigger.  It’s a contrast thing.   Don’t get your hopes up too much though Max.   Neither of them seemed very gay to me and Mexicans tend to be super catholic and thus, a little homophobic.  You might be careful sharing too much about yourself, if you know what I mean, ok?  We will only be with them for a week and there’s no reason to have them over react to something that doesn’t really matter.”  I felt bad suggesting that he hide his sexuality, but I didn’t want him to have his trip ruined by the awkwardness that might arise from them not being accepting of him.

“Ok.  No big deal,” he answered.  

“Good, now we need to get showered and ready for dinner.  Me first or you?”

“Me,” he answered.

While Max showered, I quickly unpacked my clothes and then relaxed on the deck enjoying another beer while drying off in the hot summer breeze.  When he came out I was almost asleep.  “Your turn,” he said.  I stirred from my near slumber and looked him over.  He looked fabulous.   He had on a khaki pants and a blue striped Under Armour polo and he had spiked his hair with some gel.  He was very handsome.

“You might want to call home while I get cleaned up,” I suggested.   “And maybe put your clothes away too, ok?”

***

When I got out of the shower Max was on the patio face-timing with his mom, showing her the view.  I was sure glad I put some clothes on before I came out!  I said hello to her and told her that Max was being an angel (which he was, minus the 15 seconds of whining in the van anyway).   

When Max signed off the two of us stood by the railing and looked down on the resort pool and pathways.   We had about 30 minutes to kill before meeting the Torres’ for dinner, so we watched a cruise ship get pushed away from port and head out to sea.    The view from the top floor was spectacular!  I was looking down when I saw Sebastian and his mom walking on the path towards the building.  I recognized them from the clothes they had on in the café. Sebastian must have spotted me as well, because he stopped and waved his arm madly at me until I waved back.   I was surprised he could recognize me 10 stories above them, but somehow he did.   His mom eventually stopped and waved as well before they moved on.

When I turned to Max he was just giving me a look of disbelief.   “What?” I asked.

“I’ve never seen anyone like you.   I mean, kids are like, just drawn to you man,” he grabbed my arm.   “I’m not going to have to be sharing my papi all trip am I?” he asked facetiously.    

I hugged him from the side.  “Max, I think all kids are pretty cool and I love helping them have fun.  Know what I mean?  But there’s only one you.  You mean the world to me.”

He smiled and leaned into me. “Thanks.  You too.  And I know what you mean about helping kids have fun.  Like with Marcelo.   That was really fun today, playing with him.”

I nodded.  “I think he liked the attention you gave him.  It was really cute when he practically climbed on your lap to eat his ice cream.”

“I know,” he smiled. “He IS a really cute kid.”

“You’re not going be replacing me as the fun guy now are you?” I asked.

“I dunno.  Maybe,”  he answered, smiling.

***

I assume most admitted boy lovers have at least attempted to try to trace the origins of their attractions.   Watching Max with Marcelo earlier and having Max just refer to the little guy as ‘cute’ sent me back to a scene of my early life that I consider the genesis of my boy attraction.  I was probably 10 years old or so the first time I was in a situation where a younger boy really looked up to me and thought I was cool and fun, just like Marcelo had done with Max today.  Some old neighbors came to visit us and their little boy was probably 5 or 6.  I played with Billy and his sister all evening while our parents talked over coffee.  We played hide and seek (and other games), and I’d come up with creative hiding spots for us to cuddle together in.   His adoration and laughter was intoxicating. 

  To be adored like that was a new experience for me.  For the first time in my life, I felt like I had discovered something I was good at…and also a purpose.   I was a somewhat lonely and socially awkward kid, maybe a little short of love and affection at home.   I immediately fell in love with the feeling you get from making a younger boy laugh, have fun, and look up to you.  Their love seemed unconditional.

I think a part of me has been trying to recreate situations with boys - and the wonderful feelings that come from being around them, ever since.   Of course that doesn’t explain the sexual attraction that eventually got tied up in it all, but it certainly explains the emotional one.  

I glanced over at Max, the two of us still watching ships from our balcony, and silently hoped that Max wouldn’t be cursed with the same attraction.  It sucks being attracted to people that society bars you from freely pursuing.  

As I pondered it, I really couldn’t see a boy-love attraction developing in Max though.  Assuming Max and Cam stayed together, their attractions should continue to age with them…. hopefully.   And thankfully, Max’s friendships and self-esteem are nothing like mine when I was growing up.  His emotional health, even with all he’s been through with his father, is light years above mine as a child.   I realized that even the love and affection I have been showing him these past several months are serving to strengthen him.

***

The highlight of dinner might have been when little Marcelo, in his little khaki pants and adorable guayabera shirt, come running up to Max and I when we rounded the corner to the restaurant.  He gave us a very warm welcome.  He gave Max a huge hug and even kissed him on the cheek, which made Max blush a little.  I got a slightly more subdued hug, no kiss, but it was still a nice feeling to have a little guy wrap his arms around your neck and squeeze you with all his might.

Marcelo insisted on sitting beside Max, who ended up between the little guy and Eduardo at kids end of our large table.  We had a great meal at the Mexican restaurant.  The taco appetizers were great and the coconut grouper was delicious.   A mariachi band came and sang songs in honor of both Maria’s birthday and her parent’s anniversary.  It was a nice dinner, even with Andres having to help be a translator between myself and the rest of the family. 

The kids were quickly bored as soon as dinner was over and asked if they could go get some ice cream and take in the show.   There were Mayan dancers dressed in animal outfits doing a show around the open courtyard area.   I’d seen them before and definitely didn’t need to see it again, but I thought the kids might get a kick out of it - at least for a while.

The adults stayed and had more wine, though I was trying to not over do it, with Max and I having our first dive the next afternoon.   I was also exhausted.  I didn’t have the long nap that Max had enjoyed into Atlanta. 

I was finding it hard to stay awake so I excused myself and went and found the kids who were in the crowd that had circled the dancers.   “I’m not going to be able to last much longer,” I whispered to Max.

“Me either.   We can go anytime.  This got kind of boring after the first few guys,” he replied.

We hung around long enough for Andres and the rest of his family to catch up to us, and then after bidding everyone a good night, Max and I headed to our room.

***

This was funny.  When we started getting ready for bed, Max finally realized there was only one bed for the two of us.  He truly CAN be blonde sometimes.   I guess the naked Mexican boys had distracted him earlier and he just hadn’t even thought about it for some reason.  “There’s only one bed!” he declared out of nowhere.  “We have to share?”

“You hadn’t noticed that?  You really can be blond sometime Max,” I teased him.  

He picked up a pillow and tossed it at me.  “Shut up,” he said, cracking a smile.

I tossed the pillow back onto the bed – on his side.  “It is a huge bed Max, just like in Madison, remember?”  He had shared my bed the night that he and Cam had their little spat.

“Oh yeah,” he said, apparently remembering as well now.  “I’ll guess I’ll survive then.”

I removed my slacks and shirt and hung them back in the closet so I could wear them to another dinner later in the week.   I came back into the room in just my underwear.  “Just remember you’re in bed with me Max, and not Cam – Ok?  See,” I said, moving my hand up and down in front of me.  “Me - hairy, old, not so good looking.  Cam, smooth, young, hot.  Got it?”

He shook his head.  “Got it ya big dork.”

I climbed into bed as Max got undressed and hung up his clothes.   He climbed into bed in just his Calvin’s.   He made himself comfortable and I turned off the lights.   “Craig,” he asked.

“Yeah Max?”

“That lady, you know, that Sebastian kid’s mom.  What was she talking about? Having pictures of you that would be embarrassing?”

“Ah!  The battle of the sexes.  It’s a show they do here.  It’s hilarious, but if I tell you what happens, it will ruin it for you.  I promise I’ll make a complete ass of myself and then you can have embarrassing photos of me on your phone too.”  

(The show is basically a battle of men versus women with 3 or 4 guests of each sex on each team.  There are a few games up on stage that are just goofy (name song titles, hop around with a ping pong between your knees, etc.) But the best part is the end, where each team has to collect ‘things’ from audience members.   Whichever team gets the most items gets more points.  First they collect shoes.  No big deal, everyone gives up shoes.   Then they collect bras!  The women always win that one, naturally, but then they collect shirts – which after the women have pulled off their bras, the men win easily.  Finally they collect pants!  Half of the audience, or more, is sitting there in their underwear, rolling in laughter.  And all of us guys on stage are nearly naked. They give little boys sombreros to cover up with, which only adds to the hilarity as most of them place them in front with the point sticking out like a huge phallus.  Max would love it, but the less he knew ahead the better it would be.

“Okay,” he replied in somewhat of a groan, apparently not happy at getting no additional details.

“You’ll love it Max.  It’s the coolest show.   Hey, did you have a fun day?” I asked.

“Duh, this is awesome Craig.  Thanks again for bringing me.”

“No problem.  You ready for diving tomorrow?”

“I think so.   I’m excited.  The ocean will be much cooler the pool.  But I’m a little nervous too.”

“You’ll be fine Max.  And for sure it is 100 times better.  Well, we better get some sleep buddy.”

“Okay,” he answered.  Then after a pause, he asked, “do you care if I sleep without my underwear.  They kind got sweaty and I dunno, I’d sleep better without them.”

“Whatever floats your boat Max,” I told him.   I could feel him shifting to remove his underwear and toss them onto the floor.

“Much better,” he said, letting out a big sigh.  “Craig?”

“Yeah,” I said turning towards him.

“Goodnight dad,” he said and reached over and gave me a gentle hug.  “Thanks… for everything.”

I ruffled his hair.  “Goodnight Mijo.”

*End of Chapter 20*

Author’s notes:

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