Max’s Freudian Slip #45

by craigpwriter888@tutanota.com & J

Authors’ Note: It’s been a while since we’ve touched FreudianSlip (in fact, three chapters of Max’s Awakening have transpired, although that’s only about a week in story time. Good grief). Craig’s last chapter finished with Noah’s birthday dinner, where afterwards the parents talked in detail about Max’s sexuality. Craig went home and ended up having a massive wet dream about the boys. He was relaxing at home alone when Max and Cam arrived suddenly the next morning. 

One good thing about it being a while… even if you’re reading Max’s side, the events a la Craig might seem new ;)

Chapter 45

Part I —

Something must have gotten the boys going, because the stomping around and laughter have only gotten louder. Max sure was excited to show off his new room to Cam, so I’m gratified that it sounds like they’re making the most of their final few minutes together.

Having them barge in this morning, just after my lurid (and lucid) dream, has me uneasy. Max’s casual sweetness, asking for a quick bit of affection from his surrogate father, makes me feel even guiltier. Why do I still think about him in that way, as an object of lust? 

I guess it isn’t new. When I first started regularly spending time with Max, he creeped into my fantasies nightly. I’ve spilled more cum than I’d like to admit thinking about his perfect little butt (and actually getting inside of it was a dream come true, wrong as it was). I thought I had worked through that by leaning into a parental role. 

I know it was just a dream, but damn, it was so realistic. It doesn’t help that I know he’d love nothing more than to reinitiate that aspect of our relationship. Obviously, so would I.

What really worries me, though, is how easily he wore down my defenses. I sure was eager when the opportunity presented itself, wasn’t I? I even remember thinking in the dream… why did I ever deny myself? But then, the idea of being caught by Kim almost gave me a stroke. At the end of the day, I know in my heart acting on our attraction to one another is inappropriate and unethical.

To be honest, it’s not like Max has become any less attractive to me — to the contrary, he’s still very much Peak Boy — but after everything, I’m disappointed in myself. He deserves better from me than being masturbatory fodder. 

I don’t know, maybe I’m overthinking things and being too hard on myself, but it’s not like I can confide in anyone. It’ll be easier once he develops more. I hope, anyway.

After waltzing in so boisterously, things have become eerily quiet upstairs. I was just wondering if I should check in when my phone dinged. Bob texted that he’s en route and asked to pop over before taking Cam home.

Me: Sure. I’m just lounging and watching the game

Me: Cam is actually here. Max wanted to show him his room

Bob: Oh boy, I bet they’re eager to break in another bed… but not today

He added an eye roll. Bob isn’t a big emoji guy, so that made me laugh.

Me: look at you being a cockblock

Bob: lol, I must be channeling his mother

Bob: anyway I’m about ten out

I yelled upstairs that Bob was on his way and would arrive shortly. If hormones did get the better of them, despite being as worn out as Max claimed to be, this gives them an opportunity to stop before being embarrassed. 

The football game went to commercial, so I traipsed to the kitchen and refilled my coffee. Before I made it back to my recliner, they bounded casually down the stairs.

“Hmmm, coffee,” Max said, grabbing the cup from my hands and raising it to his lips. 

Well, that was rude. I don’t mind sharing, or even making him his own cup, but he should ask.

“Since when do you like coffee?” I asked, confused and slightly perturbed. I’ve never known him to drink bean juice. Once when we were out and he was tired, he tried a blended Starbucks drink that is more sugar and cream than java. As I recall, he took a sip, made a face, and barely drank any of it.

“I don’t!” he replied, snickering. “I just didn’t want you to spill it and burn yourself.” He carefully placed my mug on a nearby table. 

“Hey! I’m not that old,” I responded. I know he teases me about my age, but does he really think I’m an invalid? 

“Now!” Max yelled suddenly. Before I knew it, they launched themselves at me. 

So that’s why it was so quiet. These little shits were plotting a sneak attack! 

Cam wrapped himself around my legs and Max grabbed me around the neck. I had no choice but to drop to the floor. God forbid I fall over and actually crush one of them. 

“Kamikazing me, are you?” I joked. “I’ll swat you away like annoying flies.” I quickly flipped Max over my shoulder and onto his back. His shirt rode up, exposing his midriff. God, I love admiring his firm tummy. But more importantly, it’s his most ticklish area. I held nothing back, digging my fingers into his sides, causing him to roar.

Max squirmed, trying to get away. “You never learn!” I declared.

I was just about to move my assault to Max’s smooth pits, when Cam jumped onto my back and attacked my own underarms. I redirected my attention to push away Cam’s hands. My armpits are so sensitive. Thankfully, Max has yet to figure out that my feet are my true vulnerability. If they hit me there, I’m a goner. 

“Where’s his most ticklish spot?” Cam asked with urgency.

“I don’t have any!” I declared defiantly, cackling. I rose and turned, tossing Cam over my shoulder, onto the couch.

“Liar!” Max yelled as he dug into my ribs. Dammit! He knows all my non-feet weak points. “Keep focusing on his underarms,” Max instructed.

I was soon laughing uncontrollably. They’re sapping my will to fight back. Of course, why should I? It’s not like having two attractive, adorable boys rubbing themselves all over me is unpleasant. And they want me to reciprocate? Frankly, I love it, although that makes me feel a little guilty too. Still, it occurs to me I should be thankful for my dream and massive ejaculation. I’ve managed to not even become aroused.

They soon have me on my back, pinned down. Damn, they are starting to bear down their weight. They may both only be just over a hundred pounds each, but they’re strong and, taken together, they’re like a grown man with four arms. 

I’m squirming and bucking, hoping to throw them off. Okay, if I’m being honest, I’m not trying that hard. I’ll let them have their fun and simply enjoy the affection and platonic body contact. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Bob let himself in through the front door, smiling at the sight before him. Their backs are to him, so he has the element of surprise. I quickly mouthed ‘help.’ I grinned when he bent over and scooped them right up — one in each arm.

“What the?” Max squeaked.

“Two against one doesn’t seem very sportsmanlike,” Bob commented, casually hoisting them up as if they’re nothing. He tossed Max onto the couch and Cam the love seat.

Everyone is laughing, Bob included. Slowly, we all caught our breath.

“I was just about to take care of them,” I explained. “I was just letting them wear themselves out.”

“Sure you were!” Cam replied sarcastically.

Bob extended his hand and pulled me up. I offered him a quick bro hug. 

“Sorry to end your fun,” he greeted. “How was the birthday party? Everything go okay?”

Cam nodded exuberantly, standing up to give his father a hug. “It was so fun. Thanks again for letting me come.”

“Your reprieve was well deserved,” I added. I've been thinking about how I might convince Bob to release Cam from his grounding. It’s been weeks since the boys were disciplined, and I have no doubts they’ve learned their lesson. “They were exceptionally well-behaved at dinner. And after… right up until they came over to brutally assault me,” I continued, smirking.

“Do you have your things?” Bob asked, ruffling his son’s hair. “We have raking to do. It’s amazing how fast the leaves have started coming down.”

“No sir. I’ll need to run next door.”

“Is your mother on her way?” I turned, directing my question to Max.

He checked his phone and sighed. “I’m not sure. I texted her a while ago, but she hasn’t replied.”

I guess that’s not a surprise. She has plenty of wine to sleep off.

“Bring your stuff over too and we’ll figure it out,” I suggested, giving Max a playful pat on the rear as he followed Cam out the door. “The Reeds have put up with you savages for long enough.”

***

While the lads were next door gathering their things, I took time to catch up with Bob. Specifically, I asked how things are with Jeanine. 

“Honestly, surprisingly good. She seems to have come to grips with the idea that Cam is never going to be attracted to girls. Or, she’s at least stopped making snide remarks about it under her breath. Either way, I’m taking the win.”

“That’s good. I know it weighed on Cam, having his mother be so disapproving,” I said. “Even if they aren’t close, that has to be a mindfuck for a kid. I know he resented when she left right after he came out.”

“Definitely. You know, when Cam came out and she was so ridiculous, fleeing back to Texas, I worried our relationship would take an irreparable hit. But since she’s been back, things have been better than they have in years. It’s like she’s trying harder, with both Cam and I,” Bob shared. “It’s almost like she was turned on by me putting my foot down and telling her how it would be, or she feels bad and like she needs to compensate. Either way, she’s been less shrill and we’ve had more sex the last month than the whole last year.”

My eyebrows raised. “I guess that’s good, if you’re enjoying it. I think you’re more bi than me. I’ve never really enjoyed sex with my wife,” I admitted. “If you get tired of pussy, I know where you can get some alternative help, should you need a release.” Of course, it occurs to me that if he’s getting his needs met with her he might have less desire for a guy.

Bob chuckled. “We definitely need to find a time, my friend.” I wish we would. Maybe that will keep the perverted dreams of the boys at bay.

Max and Cam were soon back on the porch with their things, laughing and hugging. They really are so happy together, it’s infectious and endearing. Bob bid me farewell, promised to find some alone time, and was soon off. 

***

Max sat next to me on the couch and leaned his head against my shoulder. “Who’s playing?” he asked.

“Nebraska, but they’re awful. When I was your age, they were one of the best teams in the country.”

“Oh,” he answered. I know football isn’t of much interest to him. He checked his phone. “Still no word from Mom. It’s okay if I hang here for a while, right?”

I was tempted to shake him. Does he really feel like he has to ask such a silly question? He knows he’s welcome here anytime, and I told him to grab his stuff and bring it over. Maybe he assumes I’ll drop him at home and he’s trying to subtly and politely ask if he can hang out instead. 

I have another thought: he can go with me to Rochester. It can be one of his ‘chores’ to help pay for Europe.

“I don’t get any response from your mother either, but I have an idea,” I said.

“Yeah?” he answered, sitting up. I can sense the tiniest bit of excitement.

“I’m supposed to go to Rochester to do some handyman stuff for Emma. You can tag along and do some chores, for the Europe trip. It will save me from being bored on the drive,” I suggested. “You don’t have any obligations at home, do you?”

“Nope. I’d love to come with you!” he answered enthusiastically. “That’s way better than being stuck at home doing nothing. I’ll text Mom.”

“I already did, but you can if you want. Make sure to share your location if you don’t already,” I suggested. “She’s probably still sleeping.”

***

Part II —

We watched the game until half-time, then packed a few tools and hit the road. I noticed when I glanced at my phone he shared his location with me, too. That makes me feel warm inside.

About halfway there, Max’s stomach growled. 

“Hungry?” I asked.

“I shouldn’t be,” he answered. “I ate a lot, but I guess Adam’s breakfast didn’t stick with me. Too many carbs probably.”

“I’m hungry too,” I answered. Afterall, I mostly had coffee for breakfast. “I’ll look for a pit stop. We can pick up some snacks, but Emma is expecting us soon so we’ll have a proper lunch with her after we finish.” 

***

As we pulled back onto the interstate from our detour to the convenience store, Max leaned the seat back and made himself more comfortable. He let out a big yawn between bites of his pistachio and almond mix. I guess now that gymnastics is back in full swing, even his snacks on a road trip are healthy.

“Tired?” I asked. “I guess you guys stayed up late, playing video games or whatever.” I wasn’t intentionally referencing the earlier innuendo, though I admit I am curious how much of the night was spent without clothing.

Max laughed. “Sort of late, but we didn’t play a single video game.”

I decided to just ask; otherwise, I’ll forever wonder. “So, you and Cam making crude remarks about having sex all night had some basis in truth?”

“I’m sorry,” he answered shyly. 

“About what?”

Max bit his lip. “We shouldn’t have said anything. Cam’s right, that was kind of teasing you, wasn’t it?”

“It’s fine,” I replied. I gave him a reassuring pat on the leg. “You never have to share details, but I don’t mind when you do. I’m just glad you had a good time and are respectful to each other.”

“Oh, we definitely did.” He paused, appearing to ponder something. Max isn’t usually so hesitant or cryptic, not with me. I know it’s inevitable, but I hope his sudden circumspection isn’t a sign of growing up and pulling away. “I have to tell you about one thing though. It’s just too great not to share.”

“Okay.” Maybe I’m being paranoid. Based on the grin spread across his face, he doesn’t seem bothered. 

“It’s actually hilarious, and it’s not even about that. Well, not exactly.”

I turned to face him. “Go on. You’ve piqued my interest.”

“Well, Noah was hanging on Ashley all night, right?” he began. I didn’t observe much myself. They held hands at dinner, but the only instance I specifically noticed was just as we were leaving the restaurant, Noah draped his arm around her shoulder. 

Max continued. “They stopped in the park on the way home to make out. After going at it heavily in the basement.”

I never considered our little neighborhood park a potential make out spot. From a young teen’s perspective, I see the appeal. It’s relatively secluded and walkable. You could see or hear someone coming easily. 

“That seems mostly age appropriate and pretty harmless.” 

“It was, though it definitely got PG-13 when Jackson went upstairs.”

I love when Max gives me the inside scoop. I know I shouldn’t be fascinated, but God help me, I am. “‘PG-13’? How so?”

“Ashley was sitting on Noah’s lap and uh… kind of started grinding on him.” He gyrated in his seat to demonstrate.

Whoa! I wasn’t expecting that. Ashley definitely has a good-girl persona. Sure, kissing in eighth grade isn’t exactly rare. But frottage? That isn’t far removed from overtly sexual acts. “No shit. Seriously? Right in front of you and Cam?”

“We were, um, occupied as well,” he replied, smirking. Damn! And to think we were all just upstairs, talking about their raging hormones, assuming they were watching a movie. “But anyway, when we were walking home, Noah was super worked up.”

“I can imagine. Poor guy probably had blue balls!”

“That’s what he said! I didn’t realize that was an actual thing.”

“Yeah, it is,” I confirmed. “Go on.”

“Of course, Cam couldn’t resist making it even worse. He started asking Noah to imagine what it’s going to be like when he has sex the first time — with a girl, I mean. Between the two of them, they started painting this whole disgusting scene… and you won’t believe this.”

“What?” I’m struggling with where his story is going. Did Cam blow Noah in the park or something? He better not have, not after all the conversations we’ve had about time and place and discretion.

“Noah actually came in his pants, right there on the sidewalk, just past the park. Didn’t even touch himself,” Max described, giggling. “He was so embarrassed.”

I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. I can only imagine Noah’s reaction to turning his underwear into a sticky mess. “Okay, that is funny. But he would kill you for sharing, so I won’t say anything.”

“He ran all the way home — awkwardly. Cam and I were dying.”

“I see the humor too, but you have to be careful in those situations. I hope you weren’t mean about it.”

“We weren’t, I promise. He was a block ahead of us, and we didn’t rub it in until later,” he stated. “Have you ever had that happen? Cream your shorts?”

I had to think for a moment. You cum so many times when you’re young, it may well have occurred, but I don’t recall a specific instance. “Not that I can think of. Not while awake, anyway. I’ve had wet dreams of course, but that’s different.” Considering just a few hours ago I jizzed all over my undies, sans any manual stimulation (and right next to Kim), I can empathize with Noah’s predicament.

“Yeah, that’s not the same,” he agreed. 

“Well, it sounds like your night was eventful, even before you holed up in the basement.”

“It got more ‘eventful’,” he quickly answered, flashing me a sly smile. “Everyone had fun.”

“I’m sure,” I answered calmly. I’m curious as hell, but also not trying to look desperate to know what happened. While I hoped he might give a few specifics, he changed topics instead. Sigh.

“Were the grown-ups really upstairs talking about us, uh, doing stuff?” he asked tentatively.

Dammit. So much for Jackson keeping his mouth shut. “Jackson ratted us out, eh?”

“Sorta. He didn’t say much, other than he had to get out of there because that’s what the topic was.”

I considered how best to explain things without sounding cringey. “It was an odd conversation, but nothing horrible. Mostly just parents lamenting their babies growing up, and having to worry about what they might be doing,” I explained. I’m navigating this adeptly. Max doesn’t really want to know, so I need to satiate his curiosity and be honest — without delving into details. “Of course, everyone was a little tipsy from dinner and the wine Lisa’s cousin brought, so inhibitions were low. Let’s just say things were discussed rather frankly.” How’s that for sugar coating the conversation?

He winced. “Sounds awful.”

“Well, the wine was good. And the cake. The discussion was awkward. Women are so clueless about boys,” I said. “Well, not Lisa. She gets it. Her cousin, Karla, didn’t think boys your age could have orgasms yet or ejaculate.”

That caught him off guard, but at least gave him a taste of the actual conversation without implicating his mother. “Seriously? She doesn’t know about dry cums? I think most dudes are having those a while before they start shooting. I did for years. Hell, I haven’t been able to cum for even a full year yet, but I’ve been getting off since I was like 11.”

Well, that conjures a whole host of salacious imagery. When Max first opened up and told me about his early masturbation routines, I couldn’t help but picture a younger version of him whacking away at his diminutive penis. Those old fantasies immediately came flooding back. I forced myself back into the conversation — and to refocus on the road. 

“Well, think about it. I don’t think they have any way of knowing. I mean, as a woman, all you know about men and orgasm is that they ejaculate when it happens. If you think sperm comes later in puberty, I can see how they might think you couldn’t have one without the other,” I explained. Although, she did seem especially clueless at the time. “Climaxing is different for women. They can have multiple — or none at all.”

“I guess,” he answered. He cringed and sunk further into his seat. I guess he doesn’t even want to think about sex with girls, which amuses me for some reason.

“I could have set her straight,” I continued, “but didn’t want to get into all that. She’d probably assume all little boys are raging perverts or something.”

“Aren’t we, though?” he laughed. “At least sometimes?”

I joined in his laughter. “She’d spontaneously combust if she knew the half of it.”

***

Max finally succumbed and slept the final 20 minutes or so to Emma’s. I turned down the radio so it wouldn’t disturb his slumber. That left me in silence, pondering what all transpired in Noah’s basement last night. Max made it clear sex was involved, and damn if I’m not curious about the details! Who did Noah fuck? Max? Cam? Maybe both? My imagination ran wild with possibilities.

Stacy must have finally rejoined the world of the living, because a reply to my text popped up on my console screen. She’s fine with Max being with me. I assume she’s relieved he didn’t see her hungover. Which is something we probably need to discuss.

Emma seemed surprised when she opened the door and saw Max with me. “Max?” she asked, almost as if she didn’t recognize him. “What are you doing here?” It dawns on me that I never told her Max was coming. 

It didn’t occur to me that she hasn’t seen him in ages. He was over all the time when the boys were younger, and Emma babysat in the summer. “You’ve gotten big,” she continued. 

“I brought along a helper,” I explained. “He’s doing chores to work off a school trip to Europe next summer.”

She nodded. “Oh? Cool.”

“Yeah, Craig is chaperoning,” Max added cheerfully.

“Huh?” Emma asked. “I hadn’t heard that.” I sensed Emma was taken slightly off guard, but I’m not sure whether it’s because I’m chaperoning or that nobody told her. In fairness, Kim talks to Emma and Rachel a lot more than I do, so I just kind of assumed she kept them up to date.

We made quick work of Emma’s to do list. She’s worried about her car brakes, so we took her Mazda for a test drive. I’m handy around the house, but mostly eschew car maintenance, so I suggested she get into a mechanic soon. By the sound of the squealing, it’s due — probably past due — for a brake job.

The new shelf she bought for her laundry room took about 30 minutes to mount and the light switch was a five-minute job. We weren’t there more than an hour before we headed to a late lunch.

***

I asked Emma where she wanted to eat, and she suggested a local Applebee’s-like establishment. Max nodded his assent when I asked if that was okay. 

College football was playing on the TVs around the bar, but we sat tucked away in a secluded corner. Max sat next to me, like normal (even when it is just the two of us), but wasn’t as affectionate as he normally is. Often, he leans his head on me or wants my arm around his shoulder while we wait, but today he’s a little standoffish. 

Our waiter, Brian, introduced himself, and I definitely gleaned a gay vibe from him. He’s not flouncy and doesn’t have a lisp or anything stereotypical, but there’s something there. He’s not bad looking, probably six feet tall and average build, late twenties or early thirties.

When he noticed Max, he practically stuttered and stared. Is he seriously checking him out right in front of us?

“What about you, young man? Would you like anything to drink?”

“Just water, please.”

“And so polite! I’m a sucker for good manners.” Yeah buddy. I think you’re a sucker for a very cute, young face. I can relate.

“I think we’re ready to order,” Emma interjected.

When Max gave his order (a southwest Caesar salad with grilled chicken), Brian mentioned “how impressed” he was with Max being so “responsible” and “health conscious.”

While Emma and I caught up, Max was quiet. Honestly, he spoke with Brian more than either of us, who basically fawned over him. I hoped he and Emma might connect, like he did with Kim, but I don’t think it’s in the cards today. He seems distant, preoccupied with something. 

I caught Brian staring at Max from across the restaurant a couple of times, and I swear, whenever any of us took a sip or two, he was right there to give us a refill and banter more with Max. Emma even joked he sure was angling for a good tip.

The food was fine, and it’s always good to spoil my youngest, but Brian is putting me on edge. Max is beautiful, sweet, and charismatic, so I am not unsympathetic, but this guy is not subtle. Thankfully, Max seems blissfully unaware. After Chad, I’m not sure how he’d react if he realized a man was so openly leering at and flirting with him.

When the check came, Brian brought us a free dessert, specifically noting that Max had leftover calories after such a nutritious lunch. I had to consciously stop my eyes from rolling. Seriously, part of me wants to take this guy aside and tell him to relax before he gets himself into trouble.

I don’t think Max was still hungry, but he politely ate a few bites of the brownie and scoop of ice cream. I tried a bite and Emma polished it off, suggesting I leave Brian a good tip. “He was so attentive.”

He sure was, but I doubt we’d have received that same level of service if we didn't have a gorgeous boy at our table. I normally tip 20% as a matter of course, but grimaced rewarding this fucker.

***

“Well, that was awkward as fuck,” Max commented once we dropped Emma back off and were on the road. Did he pick up on the lecherous waiter after all?

“What?” I asked, not sure how to broach the topic. Or maybe he’s just bored with or resentful for coming all this way for an hour’s worth of work? “I know that wasn’t as fun as hanging out with Cam and Noah, but it’s work Max, not play time.”

“Seriously? You didn’t pick up on any of the tension?”

I cocked my head. “With what?” We are clearly not on the same page.

“Emma! You didn’t notice how she totally ignored me and was giving me dirty looks the entire time?” Max exclaimed animatedly. “She was totally pissed I was there.”

What is he talking about? She was fine. Maybe a little tired, but he’s being dramatic. “You’re imagining things. You’ve known her for years, Max. Why would she care?”

“I don’t know, but she sure seemed unhappy that I came,” he said, shaking his head. “When I told her you were chaperoning to Europe, man… if looks could kill. I think she’s jealous.”

I laughed. Is that what he’s worried about? “She was probably just surprised,” I said. “I assumed Kim already told her about Europe, but apparently it hadn’t come up.”

He looked at me incredulously.

“It’s not like she didn’t go to Mexico or cruises almost every year growing up. She has no reason to be annoyed with you, and I really don’t think that’s it, so please don’t brood.”

“Okay, but I’m telling you, something felt off.”

This is bothering him more than I initially thought. He’s really wound himself up, for no reason. I want to be sensitive, but this feels like sibling rivalry that exists only in his anxious little mind. He’s an only child and not used to sharing my focus. I guess he does with Noah (and even Cam, sometimes), but that’s different. Even then, I remember watching the movie with Noah a couple of weeks ago made him territorial to the point Kim picked up on it. And now that I think about it, I’m not sure he’s even been around my girls since we started spending more time together.

“I’ll have Kim touch base with her. Whatever you think you perceived, it’s fine. Trust me?” I patted his leg. “Thanks for your help, by the way. I’m sure she appreciated it, too.”

Max still doesn’t look convinced, but thankfully he dropped it. My feeling is something else is bothering him and he’s projecting his anxiety onto his interaction with her.

***

On the drive back, Stacy called to find out when Max would be home. She has a date with James, who Max refers to as ‘the lumberjack.’ Her having a date definitely caught Max by surprise. She claimed to have mentioned it earlier in the week, but he just shook his head.

I offered to keep Max longer and feed him. I assume she’s having a dinner date, but she said she already has chicken and rice in the oven.

“You’re not having dinner with James?” Max asked.

“Nope, not this time. We’re going to a club to see his friend play, and will barely make it. His sons have some function he has to attend. See you soon, sweetie.”

After we disconnected, Max groaned.

“What? You don’t like your mom dating?” Maybe that’s what has Max on edge?

“No, that’s fine… he seems nice. But a club, after last night? She’ll probably be hungover again tomorrow.”

“Ah,” I replied, nodding slowly. Bingo! He’s anxious about her drinking and it’s completely coloring his outlook. “I see where you’re coming from now. I know you don’t like when she drinks.”

“I thought she stopped! Other than one glass of wine at dinner a few weeks ago, I hadn’t seen her drink at all until last night.” He sounds completely exasperated. I’m glad he’s finally opening up about what’s really bothering him. 

“Hmmm. Well, if it’s any consolation, I don’t think she was trashed,” I explained. “Yes, she had a couple drinks at dinner and some wine at Adam and Lisa’s, but she wasn’t out of her mind. We were all a little buzzed.”

“‘Buzzed’ enough to talk about my sex life?” Max asked sarcastically.

He has a point. “Okay, fair point. But I wouldn’t assume one night is an indicator she’s reverting to old ways. I know she went to a happy hour in Denver on that work trip. I’m sure she had a drink then, too,” I suggested. “I know it’s something you’re sensitive about, but most adults drink and it doesn’t make them an alcoholic. I think you might be making a bigger deal out of this in your head than you should.” 

I paused to gauge his reaction. He just folded his arms, which I’ve learned is a warning sign of his temper beginning to flare.

“Are you sure there’s not something else bothering you? You truly don’t mind her dating?” It occurs to me, just like he might be having a hard time sharing my attention, he may have similar feelings about her seeing someone, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

“No, it’s just the drinking I don’t like! It reminds me of my father too much. He didn’t get drunk a ton, but when he did, he was an even bigger jerk.”

He sulked in his seat, looking out the window. Poor little bud. Even now, little things about his dad come out and he projects them onto others. 

“You know, it wouldn’t be disrespectful to share your concerns and feelings on the subject. You hold more sway with her than you realize.” The truth is, Stacy values — almost to a fault — what Max thinks. 

“I don’t know. I don’t want her to get upset or think I’m being ridiculous.”

“She won’t. I can be there, if you want.”

“I dunno. I’ll think about it.”

***

Part III —

Stacy was just pulling her casserole out of the oven when we walked in. “Smells good,” I commented, as Max greeted her with a quick hug.

“It is good, simple but tasty. Max loves it. It just needs to brown a few minutes more,” she replied, giving Max a kiss on his cheek. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner if you’d like. There’s plenty.”

“Do I have time to shower?” Max asked

“Yes. About 10 minutes and it will be ready. I’ll wait for you, but please don’t dawdle.”

Max turned to me and started to speak, but I interrupted him. “I’ll still be here when you come back down. Go get cleaned up and then, if you smell better, I might let you give me a hug.”

Max doesn’t really stink, but I enjoy teasing him, and I think a shower will help him relax. Besides, Stacy and I need to talk — privately.

***

As Max bounded up the stairs, I sat at the kitchen table and invited Stacy to join me.

She laughed nervously. “Uh oh. Why do I have the feeling I’m in trouble?”

“I wouldn’t say that, but I did want to touch base. Max is pretty anxious about you drinking last night,” I explained. “He assumes you were hungover this morning, which is why you didn’t respond until this afternoon. And I guess Jackson did tell the kids some of what was discussed after they went downstairs.”

Stacy covered her mouth and immediately blushed. “Shit!”

“I tried to do damage control. I assured him you weren’t wasted and it’s normal for adults to drink, especially when out with friends, and it doesn’t make you an alcoholic,” I said. “And I minimized the actual conversation. Thankfully, Jackson didn’t share details, but said enough to spike Max’s discomfort.”

Stacy is stroking her hair. Rachel does the same thing when she’s nervous about something.

“Thanks for trying. I’m sorry you were put into that situation. I still can’t believe some of the stuff I said,” she admitted. “And I wouldn’t say I was hung over, but I was definitely groggier than normal. Thanks again for taking care of him today.”

I nodded. “Of course. And I’m not as concerned as he is, but I think it dredges up bad memories with Rick.” I paused, observing her reaction. She’s pretty stoic but nodded slightly when I invoked his name. “Your drinking definitely puts him on edge, and he’s been pretty broody about it this afternoon, so I wanted to give you a heads up. I encouraged him to talk with you about it directly, that you value his opinion, but you know he tries to avoid confrontation… until he blows.”

She patted my hand. “No, I really appreciate you telling me. I know I had too much last night, and this is a good reminder that drinking makes him uncomfortable,” she acknowledged. “Plus, I know I shouldn’t have vented as much as I did about private stuff. It just sort of bubbled over and came out.”

“We all make mistakes. I don’t think it’s anything unforgivable, so don’t be too hard on yourself. But yeah, no one wants their sex life dissected, so I wouldn’t make a habit of it.”

“I still can’t believe he even has a sex life. Or that I talked about it so openly,” Stacy said, cringing. “We had such a brutal fight the only time we’ve talked about it, right after the dance and he came out, and we’ve both avoided the topic since. Since they’ve both been grounded, it was kicked down the road, but I know we’ll have to have it out soon. I’m dreading it.”

“I get it. That’s not anything a parent likes to talk to their child about, especially when they’re the opposite-sex and still in middle school,” I validated. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

She shook her head. “I wish, but no, this isn’t something I can outsource to anyone else. Just do what you already are… encourage him to make responsible decisions and when the need arises, backchannel with me — like you are now.”

“Sure. We all want Max to be happy and healthy and well-adjusted.”

“I know I’m more conservative on this than you, but I really am so grateful to you for everything you do for him, for us. I’d be completely lost navigating this stuff with him if it weren’t for you.”

I know she means it as a compliment, but damn, that hit hard. If she knew the full truth… Ugh.

Just then, Max descended the staircase. 

“Perfect timing,” Stacy announced, pushing her chair back. “Food is ready.”

I walked toward Max and gave him a goodbye hug. “Thanks again for the help today. See you later this week.”

He hugged me back, hard. “No problem. Can’t wait.”

I squeezed him closer and whispered. “Don’t forget what we talked about. Bring it up if it's bothering you.”

“You’re sure you can’t stay for dinner?” Stacy asked, putting a plate in Max’s spot.

“I'd love to, but Kim texted that she made us dinner plans. I'll definitely take a rain check,” I said. “Enjoy your date.”

“I’m sure I will. Thanks again Craig, for everything.” 

To my surprise, Stacy gave me a hug before I parted.

***

I arrived home to find Kim wrapped in a blanket, binging a Hallmark Christmas movie. “Really?” I groaned, immediately recognizing the genre. “It’s not even Halloween yet.”

She shrugged. “Well, with 200 movies to show, they have to get started early. Besides, you know I love them.”

“I don’t know why,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “They all have the same damn plot.”

She scoffed. “Maybe, but I still enjoy the romance. And the towns are always so cute! It’s a girl thing.”

“And you make fun of my taste in cinema.”

“That’s because it’s ridiculous,” she teased. “Anyway, how was Emma?”

“She’s good. Needs new brakes. The other things on her daddy to-do list were easy,” I said. “Max and I wiped them out in no time.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Max? He went with?”

“Yeah. Stacy was incommunicado this morning, so I took him along. I told him to consider helping me today a chore for Europe.”

She smiled. “Good thinking.”

“I thought so too, but according to Max, it wasn’t such a great idea.”

“Huh? Why?”

I sat next to Kim on the loveseat and she (mercifully) paused the movie. “I didn’t notice, but Max swears Emma was annoyed that he was there. Like she was full-on jealous or something.”

“Hmmm,” she replied, pondering. “That doesn’t sound like Emma. Plus, she’s known Max since he was little.”

“That’s what I said, but Max was adamant. I suppose I should have given her a heads up, but it didn’t even occur to me because I didn’t think it would matter,” I explained. “When I mentioned chaperoning to Europe, Max swears her eyes were shooting daggers.”

Kim groaned. “Sending her a text would have been only courteous, Craigory.”

“Yeah, I know — but I still think it’s all in his head and he’s actually worried about other stuff,” I explained. “It was news to her that I’m going to Europe with the boys. I assumed you kept her apprised.”

“I guess it never came up. Maybe she was really looking forward to some one-on-one time? Still, that’s no excuse to be cold toward Max,” she declared. I nodded, although I still think he’s making a big deal out of nothing. “I’ll call her tomorrow and check-in, but I’m sure it’s not worth worrying about. What makes you think he’s ‘worried’ about something else?”

“Thanks hun,” I replied, patting her knee. “He’s definitely worried about Stacy’s drinking. He observed it at dinner, then she was unresponsive this morning when he texted her, so he assumed she was hungover. And, apparently Jackson did allude to what he overheard in the kitchen, which put Max even further on edge.”

Kim slapped her forehead. “That reminds me, when I went to grab the mail, I ran into Lisa. She’s still annoyed with Stacy’s outbursts last night. She’s going to find a time to talk with her and remind her to respect Max’s privacy. She agrees the boy deserves to preserve some dignity, and while she fully expects Stacy to give her all the details, Max’s sex life shouldn’t be put on blast for a whole audience.” She took a sip of her tea. “As odd as it is to think that he has one of those, of course,” she hastened to add.

While Max’s sex life is of significant interest to me, I have zero desire to rehash last night’s awkwardness. “When I dropped off Max, I took the opportunity to express my concerns to her. After he opened up about his misgivings regarding her drinking, I felt like I had to,” I began. “Honestly, she was very receptive. She realizes the wine got the better of her and she lost her filter. I told her that I tried to smooth things over with Max as best I could. He’s very sensitive about her drinking, more so than I realized. I think it stirs up anxiety about Rick. ”

“I can see how that would upset him. According to Lisa, Rick could be an ugly drunk.”

“Max definitely gets anxious when she drinks — I think in part because of how his father behaved. Or, maybe Stacy drinking just reminds him of Rick,” I posited. “I mentioned that too as well, and counseled him to speak with her directly about how he’s feeling.”

“You're a good man,” she replied, giving me a hug and peck on the cheek. “I’ll check in with the girls tomorrow.”

“Perfect. Thanks dear.”

I know it seems strange I wouldn’t do that myself, but our daughters have always been more likely to open up with their mother. It’s ironic, since Noah and Max tell me everything.

It isn’t that I’m not close to my girls — I love them immensely — but Kim has always been their primary confidant, and I try to respect that. I definitely relate better to boys, so it stands to reason females would have a similar dynamic to their mother. I’m who they come to with questions about adulting, but not so much the touchy-feely stuff.

“Now if you don’t mind, I have a predictable romcom to enjoy.”

“Yes dear. Enjoy the ridiculous sappiness. I need a shower, anyway.”

***

I was watching football when Kim arrived home from church the next day.

“Oh boy,” she said, sighing as she dropped her things in the entryway.

I muted the volume. That sounds ominous. “What?”

“Max wasn’t imagining things. I spoke with both girls.”

My stomach lurched. “Shit. What’s the problem?”

“Don’t get worked up; it’s not that serious. I had a text from Rachel when I walked out of services. She was curious about you chaperoning to Europe, so clearly she’d talked with Emma.”

I stared at her blankly. “Really? She could have just asked me.” I mean, I know Kim talks to them more than I do. It’s a mom thing. But, it’s not like we never communicate. I’m actually getting a little annoyed.

“She could have. I think she mostly wanted to give me a heads up that Emma was bent out of shape.”

I rolled my eyes on reflex. “Oh geez.”

“I guess Emma called her to bitch,” Kim explained, walking into the kitchen to grab a drink. “I called E on the drive home, but she was elusive. Said she didn’t want to rehash anything.”

“She must have worn herself out, whining about me to her sister.”

“Now Craig, don’t be like that,” Kim chided. “Anyway, I didn’t poke the bear, but did invite her over next Saturday. She hasn’t actually been home since she started that new job in Rochester this summer.”

“Yeah, she complained about being swamped with work,” I agreed. “That’s a good idea. We can have a nice, quiet family dinner. We should ask Rachel too,” I suggested. “We’ll make their favorite dishes and play cards or board games or watch movies that don’t involve ridiculous and repetitive plots. Maybe they can even stay over, if they want.” 

“You know, Princess Bride is way dumber than any Hallmark movie,” she retorted, laughing. “But I like that idea. It would be nice to spend time with just them.”

“Agreed. It’s been too long since we did something, just our little family, like old times.”

I took out my phone and shot Emma a text, apologizing for springing Max on her without any advance notice and expressing my excitement to see her next Saturday. I also shared my idea to make their favorite meal for dinner. 

I also messaged Rachel an invitation. I suspect she’ll want to bring her boyfriend, which is fine, but I’ll leave that to her to initiate. I would be perfectly content with just the four of us.

***

Max texted me Monday afternoon with some good news. He’s been officially recruited to be an office aide. It was nice to hear good news coming from Olympia Middle School for a change. His excitement must have been high, because I could sense it via text. It really is very endearing, both that he’s enthusiastic about such a thing and still willing to share his eagerness with me so openly.

I told him I was proud of him and that I knew he would do a great job. I’m glad the school recognizes what a good citizen Max is. I need to remember to thank Mr. Tim, since I’m sure this is his doing.

***

Part IV —

I didn’t hear from Max until Thursday rolled around and I performed my standing duty as chauffeur to gymnastics. He was a chatter-box from the moment I picked him up. 

“How’s the newest office aide? Had a good week?”

“Great,” he answered. “Except my first office aide task was to haul Spencer to the office for a meeting with his mom and the principal.”

“No shit? What did he do?”

Max sighed. “Shook his bare ass at someone in the locker room.”

“Jesus, that’s social suicide in sixth grade.”

Max proceeded to tell me how Spencer has really made a name for himself by being way too forward with other boys. Apparently, he spent the night with a new friend and couldn’t resist trying to initiate sex play. The boy turned him down, and didn’t seem bothered — but blabbed about it. Needless to say, that rumor spread quickly, giving Spencer a rep for being a homo. Some boys were teasing him in the locker room and, in vintage Spencer fashion, he mooned them and shook his butt, insinuating they wanted a piece of it.

And I thought Max does stupid shit! Spencer is very, um, spontaneous and doesn’t hide his thoughts or feelings, so this anecdote doesn’t surprise me. That said, I didn’t expect something so boorish this early in his middle school career. He may never live it down.

“I knew from that weekend in Madison, back in May, that he’s super impulsive,” I said. “Unfortunately, I think he’s the type who has to learn things the hard way. Weren’t he and Ian kind of… you know?”

“They were,” Max answered. “But Ian isn’t interested anymore. Now that he’s in middle school, he wants a girlfriend.”

“That’s common, I suppose. Some straight boys are willing to experiment and fool around when they’re younger, but then something shifts and they’re just not open to it any longer. That’s how it was with my boyhood friends, anyway.” I had several friends who liked to mess around and then it was like a switch suddenly flipped and it was ‘too weird.’ 

“I guess,” Max pondered. “But some straight guys seem to really get into it more and more — kind of like Noah. Others have hang-ups even though they haven’t ever done anything, and others seem to discover them only after doing stuff. It’s strange and hard to make sense of.”

I laughed. His observations are quite astute. The fact is, when it comes to human sexuality, “normal” runs the gamut. “Yep, human behavior is like that. I dare say all of that is probably quite typical. It’s just that one person’s ‘normal’ may be completely out of bounds for someone else. Some people are more open minded and adventurous, others have a heightened disgust reaction or are insecure. Especially so with sex.”

Max nodded, seeming to agree. “I also realized I haven’t been a very good friend to Spencer,” he said, his tone changing. “Here he was, starting middle school and getting into trouble and I've paid very little attention to him. I had no idea he was struggling so hard with school. Or that his parents are splitting up.”

I appreciate that Max is caring, but he doesn’t need to feel like he has to solve everyone's problems. He’s had plenty going on himself. “Sounds like he’s had a rough few weeks. But then again, someone else has too,” I replied, adding one of my patented leg pats. “I love that you’re so empathetic, but you can’t beat yourself up for not noticing.”

“I know, but I still feel crappy about it. I’m going to spend the night at his place on Saturday, after the meet,” he explained. Well, if that’s the case, Spencer at least won’t get turned down for sex. Max continued, “That was actually Cam’s idea, God bless him. Plus, I invited him to Cam’s for Halloween, so he’ll have plans and people to go out with. He doesn’t really have any other friends right now.”

The ‘God bless him’ comment definitely makes it obvious that he plans to get his dick wet.

“First… do we need to have the condom conversation again?” I asked pointedly.

I swear, I almost slapped him when he rolled his eyes. “Hey, you didn’t live through the ‘80s. It was bad, and you aren’t exactly monogamous.”

“I know, but we’re all friends and it’s confined to just a small group we all do stuff with, and none of us have diseases.”

“That you know of. After… Mexico, then Chad, you really should get tested,” I suggested. “It isn’t like you’ve just been with other boys who have only played with each other.”

“We used condoms… mostly, and so did he, so…”

I took a deep breath. I hate when he becomes obstinate. “Still, it’s best practice. And the thing with disease is, they don’t always show symptoms. You can spread it without even knowing. If you’re going to have sex, you need to get into a routine of maintenance testing every few months, or at least at your annual check-up.”

“I know Craig. I won’t get any diseases. I get that I’m sexually active with different people and that seems risky, but it’s different when you're our age and everyone is only doing stuff with each other,” he responded, as if he’s some sort of expert. Seriously? “Honestly, this might be the safest time in life to ditch the latex, at least until you find your person and only do stuff with them.”

“I know I’m never going to convince you with Cam, or probably even Noah, but don’t put yourself at undue risk,” I urged. I know that even I can only press so far, but I’m not going to stop pushing the issue. “I know I’m an outlier, as an adult, being okay with you having sex at your age. Please don’t make me regret it.”

“I won't. I'm sure we’ll start using them with other people, if we aren’t already totally monogamous in a few years.”

I thought for a second. I need to be careful how I choose my words. “I’m not going to ask you to promise, because that isn’t fair or realistic, but I want assurances.”

“Of what?”

“That when the time comes you absolutely need to start consistently using protection, you won’t argue. That you’ll trust me when I say it’s time, at least until you’re 18,” I demanded. My shift in tone seems to have gotten his attention, because he appears to finally be listening. “Once you’re legally an adult, I can only advise. But I hope that we’ll have a strong enough relationship that you’ll still value my judgment.”

“Yes Dad. Can we talk about something else, please?” he finally asked, pleading. I’ll take it as a mark of progress and shift gears. Also, I still melt every time he calls me ‘Dad.’

“I think it’s awesome you’re including Spencer, even though he’s younger. It’s a sign of maturity and being a good person when you feel guilty about something you needn’t. I’m proud of you for stepping up to be there for him,” I complimented, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “I’ll be sure to give him some accolades at the meet as well.”

“So, you and Kim are still coming?” he asked nervously. “It might be kind of crowded.”

“‘Crowded’? Why? I thought this was like a practice meet or something.”

“It is! But now Noah, Ashley, and her little brother are coming,” he said, with a hint of disdain. I can tell he’s hesitant about having an audience he actually knows. 

He explained how it all started when he saw Ashley’s mom with Aron at school, picking her up for an appointment. “Now even Liam is trying to come. I’ve never had friends come to a meet, except Noah like four or five years ago, but that doesn’t count. Besides, it’s weird, my gymnastics and school worlds merging.”

While I understand some trepidation at the novelty, I’m not pleased he’s thinking of his friends as some sort of burden. He should be pleased they care enough to come root for him. 

“What’s wrong with extra support? I’m sure they won’t do anything to embarrass you.”

“I hope not,” he mumbled. 

“Seriously? They aren’t going to show up with homemade signs and hoot and holler. Noah would turn ten shades of red himself. I’ll keep them under control.” Him worrying about this is completely unnecessary.

“Yeah, I know you’re right, it just makes me a little anxious. Like, what if I make some huge mistake and everyone sees me land flat on my ass or something?”

“Max, look at me,” I commanded as I put the car in park. 

He looked up and I gave him a stern look. His body visibly tensed. I can tell I’ve got his attention. “S-sir?”

“They’re your friends. They want the best for you and are choosing, of their own accord, to spend their free time supporting you. Do you know how fortunate and rare that is?” I asked, pausing to let my message sink in. “Look, you perform in front of hundreds of people at big meets, right? Just focus on the job at hand, do your best, and everything will be fine. Trust me on this?”

***

I enjoy Thursday evenings for a variety of reasons. Obviously, spending concentrated time with Max is chief among them, but I also enjoy watching so many fit lads work out. Honestly, the atmosphere of the gym is fun, and conversing with the other parents can be interesting, too.

Usually, Max puts on a clinic and is an obvious leader of his team. He encourages everyone, but always makes a point to help the elementary kids who are nowhere near his ability level.

Tonight, though? I’ve never seen him perform so poorly. It was actually kind of painful to watch. He was uncoordinated and made mistake after mistake. His coaches are exasperated, and he looks like he’s stuck in a feedback loop. Frankly, he’s being surly and lazy. I’d go down there to pull him aside and try to reset his attitude, but I know that would mortify him and I don’t want to compound his angst.

He was silent, head down, as we walked to my car.

“Are you okay?” I asked tentatively. “You don’t seem like yourself.”

“I already fucking know I sucked!” he roared.

Damn, that’s not an appropriate response, and he needs to realize it’s unacceptable. But… I also don’t want to escalate him into full-tantrum mode. I took a deep breath. 

“Whoooa! Max, I know you’re frustrated with yourself, and I’m sorry practice didn’t go well, but you don’t need to be rude to me. I’m trying to be supportive here — and you need to check your attitude and tone, right now.”

He didn’t reply, just kept sitting there, staring out the window.

“Can I make an observation?”

I didn’t get any words, but he did grunt an acknowledgement.

I know I need to tread carefully, but I’m not going to sugar coat anything, either. “I've watched a lot of your gymnastics practices, and I’ve always been impressed by how hard you work and support your teammates. I didn’t see that today, and I’m a little concerned because that’s so out of character for you. Is everything okay?”

He began to argue but I shut that nonsense down right away. 

“Max, can you honestly say you tried your best? That you had a good attitude?” I asked. “I think you’re upset with yourself because you know I’m right, and you’re embarrassed and anxious and stuck in your head about everything.”

Apparently, that was not the thing to say, because Max glared at me and raised his voice. “Why are you calling me out so hard when you know I’m already upset? It’s kind of dickish.”

I’m not trying to be harsh. I know he’s frustrated, and I want to help, but he’s also not a little kid and he doesn’t need to be coddled right now. Referring to me as ‘dickish’ is unacceptable, but I don’t want to feed into him fishing for a response.

“I’m sorry it feels that way, but I’m calling you up, not out. You can do better, because you usually do, and we both know it,” I declared, maintaining eye contact and sharpening my tone slightly. “I believe in you too much to let you wallow in self-pity.” I buckled my seatbelt and motioned for him to do the same. “Take responsibility, learn from your mistakes, and move forward.”

Max folded his arms. Danger, Craig Peters.

Despite knowing things are tenuous, I reacted nonchalantly and adjusted the rearview mirror. I’m not going to let him be shitty to me or dishonest with himself.

“Look, bud, I’m really sorry things didn’t go well tonight, but it isn’t fair to take it out on me, or anyone else. Make sure you write this down for Jan, in your anger journal,” I instructed flatly, poking Max’s knee to demonstrate I’m not upset. It’s amazing how casual touch so often calms him down. “Let’s get dinner. Food might improve your disposition. I think you’re hangry.”

Max shifted himself away from me, but his tone immediately softened. “Maybe we can just go home? Please? I’m tired.”

I considered his request, and while I don’t doubt his sincerity, I determined quickly that’s a bad idea. “No, sorry. You need dinner. So do I, and I think you’ll feel better. This is one of those trust Craig moments.”

He sighed but didn’t argue. He knows he’s lost. “Fine.”

Max stared out the window. It’s raining at a pretty solid clip and he’s definitely focusing on anything that isn’t me. Whatever. As my mom always said, he’ll get glad in the same pants he got mad in. 

Normally I let Max control the radio when we’re in the car together, but he didn’t reach for it, and frankly, he needs to learn that not everything is always about him or his preferences. 

I’ve had a busy day and haven’t even had a chance to catch up on the news, so I flipped to NPR and listened to the top-of-the-hour newscast. We drove in silence, and that’s okay. We both need to become more comfortable with not always being thrilled with one another.

***

Part V —

I decided to try a new pizza place several coworkers said was good.

“Two slices and a soda for $9.95? Do you want to get a side salad too? They’re only $3.00.”

“No, I just want to eat, shower, and get some sleep. I really am tired.”

“I’ll have a slice of the pepperoni-jalapeño-pineapple and sausage mushroom, plus a side Caesar.” I looked down at him. “Max?”

“Carnivore and cheese please,” he said quietly but much more politely than he was with me a few minutes ago. He grabbed our cups and made a beeline away from me.

As I waited for our food, I texted Stacy and told her the boy is pissy and asked if she minded if I kept him overnight to work through things. She agreed but asked that he call her before bedtime.

Max set the table — sodas, napkins, straws, and even red pepper flakes. He doesn’t have much of an affinity for spicy food, but he knows I enjoy it. I interpreted this as a peace offering.

“Thanks for getting the table set. Here,” I said, handing him his plate with two humongous slabs overflowing the edges. “Damn, look at how gooey your cheese is.”

Max fiercely dug into his first slice. Yep, he was hungry, just like I thought.

Damn, the work wife is right, the pizza is good. When I took a sip, I realized Max gave me Coke Zero. I don’t drink soda often, but he knows that’s my favorite. Another mea culpa. 

Max came up for air, pizza sauce slathered at the corner of his lips. Gah, he looks cute.

“Thanks for dinner. I’m sorry I was pissy earlier. I’m just nervous and don’t know what happened today.”

Aww, my sweet boy is back. I felt warmth spread through my body as I let go of my annoyance from earlier, and smiled. “I know bud. What can I help with?”

“Well, my friend Liam texted that his parents can drop him at the meet and pick him up after. But… they want to talk to you or Mom, I guess to make sure it’s okay or something.” He looks sheepish for some reason.

I nodded. “No problem. I can handle that, but you should still share your mom’s number too,” I suggested. “I’ve wanted to meet Liam, anyway. You seem to really like him.”

“Thanks,” he replied, biting into his second slice. I swear he looked like he was having a transcendent moment as the flavor washed over him.

“Maybe Liam can keep Noah company if Ashley has to deal with her brother — Aaron, is it?”

“Yeah, but I think it’s spelled with one a, for some reason,” he clarified, shrugging. “He seems sweet, but different. Like he has some sort of a disability, but I don’t know what.”

It’s nice Max is compassionate to him, not that I’d expect anything less.

Without warning, Max suddenly changed the direction of our conversation.

“So… did I tell you Ashley gave us permission?” Max asked, smirking. 

What is he talking about? “Huh?”

“On his birthday, she told Noah he could do stuff with me and Cam. Texted me too.”

I seriously choked on my soda. “Who brought THAT up?”

“Her. She’s cool with it.”

I’m incredulous, amused, and slightly turned on. I’m also mystified at how fast a teenage boy’s mood and focus can change. Weren’t we just talking about his attitude like three minutes ago? “So, I guess Noah had a happy ending to his happy birthday, after all?”

He grinned. “Twice. Once with Cam, then with me the next morning. And Cam and I did each other in between.”

Jesus! It always amazes me how he holds back sometimes and then just blurts out specifics later. Seems like he would have told me this on the way to Rochester, when it had just happened. “So, the three of you had six orgasms in like ten hours?”

“Seven if you count Noah splooging on the walk home,” he corrected, laughing. “Some people jerk off four or five times a day, so once before bed and another when you wake up doesn’t seem that crazy.” It’s interesting how he frames things.

“Yeah, but that’s still a lot of anal sex in a short period of time,” I replied. Thank God this place is empty and we don’t have to whisper. “And the two of you still had energy to sneak attack me?” I added, kicking his foot.

“Well yeah, we aren’t old like you,” he answered blithely. The little shit.

“As I recall, I handled you both easily.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts, old man,” he shot back, giggling.

I feel a little bad getting him back on track, but I have questions. “So, Ashley sanctioned things? Interesting.”

“Yeah, she saw me alone a couple of days ago during my aide period. She said Noah wouldn’t tell her anything, but was curious how our night ended. Said she’d love to watch sometime and thinks boys doing stuff together is hot. Even enjoys gay porn. Weird, huh?”

He thought for a second. “Not really. Some women are aroused by the idea, although I’m not sure how common it is. So it stands to reason that some girls who like boys would find that sort of thing exciting.”

“I guess. I just never thought girls could be like that. Guys are sex maniacs, but girls?”

I get where he’s coming from, but that's also a stereotype. Hell, it’s usually Kim who initiates between us. “Everything is a continuum, and girls have urges and attractions too,” I explained. “It’s more intermittent and sometimes more tied up with emotion, but it’s not like they don’t have desires.”

Max looks utterly repulsed by the concept. 

“Anyway, what did you tell her?”

“Nothing really, just that I didn’t want to break Noah’s trust. She said she respected my loyalty and reiterated how hot she thinks it is,” he said between bites. “I thought it was odd Noah didn’t warn me. Like she would have asked him about it first, right?”

“Probably, but he probably didn’t know how to handle it. I think you’re right not to get into details, though. If they break up and she gets angry, she could spread rumors. And if she ever took a picture or video, it would be very bad, especially for him.”

I nodded. “That occurred to me too. I like Ashley, and I don’t think she’d be like that, but it could be ugly. She can be vicious. I saw it when she defended me against the haters,” he explained. “It just felt awkward, although I really do like her. I’ve never had a girl as a real friend before.”

Aww, that’s adorable. “You're growing up, bud. Emotionally connecting with the opposite sex is a big part of adolescence, even if it is non-sexual.”

Max devoured the last of his crust. “Yeah, I don’t mind making friends with girls. It’s discussing sex that feels strange, even though I talk about it with my friends, and you, a lot.”

I secretly hope he never stops sharing, although I realize it’s probably coming.

“By the way,” he continued between sips, “is Cam right? Do you not like when I talk about sex with you? Like, does it make you uncomfortable?”

Damn, I didn’t expect to be put on the spot like that. It gave me pause, but I know I should be honest with him. 

“No. It’s awkward sometimes, but I appreciate you sharing. That being said, I never want you to feel compelled to,” I shared. He’s hanging on my every word. “I know I shouldn’t be interested, but I am.”

He gently tapped my foot with his and grinned. “It’s okay. Boys are hot. I get it.”

“Now, whether it’s actually a good idea or appropriate for you to keep sharing,” I continued, “well…”

He shook his head. “Maybe not to most grown-ups, but I don’t think it’s hurting anything or anyone else’s business, what I talk to you about. It’s not like I wouldn’t still have sex even if you didn’t approve.” 

“I just don’t want you to ever feel awkward about it. I’m happy to listen and give you advice and try to keep you safe, but yeah, I do enjoy details. I hope that doesn’t make you feel weird.”

This conversation has me flustered. Max must have noticed, because he rubbed my arm. “I don’t think men liking boys is weird. I like boys. Girls like boys. Boys like women. Boys can even like men, like I like you, so why can’t the inverse be true too?”

That makes me feel ten feet tall, but I sure hope he isn't still clinging to the hope we will eventually enjoy each other sexually again. “Society doesn't see it that way. Plus, we have the father-son thing going on.”

He scoffed. “Aren’t kids supposed to want to talk to their parents about big topics? And get advice and be guided and stuff? Why can’t I share a big part of my life with my dad? Why is sex or relationships any different? It’s no one else’s business what I choose to tell you.” Damn, he’s adamant and thought this through. He makes some compelling points, not that anyone else would see it that way. 

“I love that you still want to share, that you trust me enough and value my opinion. I just don’t ever want you to feel like you have to, if that makes any sense. If it ever feels wrong, stop.”

“I know,” he said adamantly. “You’ve never made me feel uncomfortable.”

It isn’t like I thought I had, but still, it’s a relief to hear. “That’s good. The same goes for your friends. If they aren’t comfortable, don’t say anything. I get the feeling maybe Cam doesn’t think you should.”

“Nah, he doesn’t care, not really. I mean, I don’t think he’d ever want to do anything with you in the same room, but he knows I keep no secrets from you. Everyone, even the adults, knows I tell you everything and they don’t think it’s strange. So why should I?”

“Well, for one, I don’t think he shares your attraction to men.”

Max downed the rest of his Sprite. “No, probably not. But he isn’t, like, grossed out by it either. He doesn’t judge me — or you, for that matter. Noah either. They love being around you almost as much as me.”

I have to admit, that’s comforting to hear. This was certainly not the discussion I expected over dinner, but I’m glad we clarified some things, and I’m glad to have Happy Max back. “We should probably head home. I know you’re tired.”

***

I let Max have control over the radio on the way home. “Are you confused, old man? My house is in the other direction,” he said as I turned off the main road. 

I realized I never told him I was keeping him overnight. “I texted your mom while we were waiting for our pizza, and told her you were in a mood. I joked that I felt like I needed to return you in as good or better shape than I found you in. She suggested I keep you for the night.”

His ears perked. “She did?”

“Well, actually, I asked when I realized with your meet and sleepover with Spencer on Saturday, tonight is the only chance to have you over this week. I hope that’s okay. I should have asked you as well.”

“So, I’m sleeping over?” he asked excitedly. I love how simply staying over thrills him. “Really? Will you tuck me in?” Five minutes ago we were talking about sex, now he wants to be tucked in. Though I know he thinks of it like I do — an opportunity to talk, one-on-one, and cuddle.

“Of course, if you want. But she does want you to FaceTime after your shower.”

Kim even paused tonight’s edition of the Hallmark Christmas movie to greet Max with a hug. “Friday morning is when Noah comes over for breakfast before school. Does anything in particular sound good?”

“You don’t have to make anything special for me,” Max said.

“Nonsense. We’re going to all sit down and enjoy a nice meal together. So, do you have a hankering for anything?”

“I’m easy. Eggs, waffles, cereal and yogurt, toast, whatever. I’m not picky.”

“Good night dear,” she told him, before turning off the TV. “I’m gassed. Sleep well.” She must be tired if she’s stopping in the middle of a Christmas movie.

***

While Max showered, I laid in bed and caught up with Kim. “You brush your teeth?” I asked as I eventually made my way upstairs. 

“Yes father,” he replied with an eye roll. I’m not nagging, I just wanted to make sure he was ready for bed before getting deep into a conversation about lord-knows-what. 

“Good. Do you still want me to get you settled?”

“Duh. Will you lay down with me until I fall asleep?”

I keep thinking he’ll eventually stop wanting me to do that, but as long as he’s game, I’m up for it. “Sure.”

Max grabbed his phone and changed the LED lights to a purple hue, darkening the room. 

“Thanks for offering to take me to the doctor,” he said, wrapping my arm around his torso and resting his head on my shoulder.

I’d actually forgotten. Stacy mentioned a week or so ago that Max was due to go for his annual well-check. I offered to take him if she needed help. She must have mentioned it when they talked. 

“Of course. I figured you were getting to the age that you don’t really want your mother tagging along,” I said. “Even if she stays in the waiting room, I bet it’s awkward. I stopped taking the girls once they got to be nine or 10. I knew it wasn’t my place.”

He shrugged. “It never bothered me. She would usually stay just long enough to say hi and ask a couple questions about shots or whatever, then got the ban hammer.”

“I see,” I replied. It dawned on me that this would be a good time to focus attention back on something that came up earlier when he was talking about Spencer — Max getting STD tested. It would be nice to know he’s still clean after his run in with Chad.

“When we go, I do have a request,” I asked hesitantly.

“What?”

“After everything the last few months, I want you to be honest with the doctor about being sexually active. He might want to test you for STDs,” I said. I gently stroked his damp hair. “I doubt you have anything to worry about, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. Plus, it’s just a good habit to get into once you’re sexually active.”

He sighed, but at least I didn't get an eye roll. “That seems like overkill, but if you think it’s important, I trust you.” I gave his head some of the scratches that I know he loves. 

He shocked me with a rather direct question. “So, do YOU get tested? I mean you do things too, like you know… Bob,” he asked.

I guess that’s a fair question, and an opportunity to bolster my point. “Yes sir, I do. I had my annual physical right after we arrived home from Mexico and did a complete work-up.” I was relieved at the time that everything came back clean. While I wasn’t surprised I hadn’t contracted anything, it managed to assuage at least some of my guilt for breeding Max during our last session. We ran out of condoms, he begged for one last time, and I was weak.

“Does that mean your doctor knows you…” 

Ah, I see what he’s really curious about. “Yes, he’s aware that I have more than one active sex partner. He’s never asked for details and just suggested regular testing until I told him it wasn’t necessary. It makes me wonder if it’s not as rare as I assumed.”

“What? Supposedly straight dudes doing stuff with other guys?”

“Yes, that,” I confirmed, though it would also be prudent for men with multiple female partners too. I didn’t bother to point that out. “Anyway, Raymond, the PI, can arrange for very discreet testing in his office even if the doctor doesn’t want to. But, he suggested we wait until mid-November.”

“Why then?”

“Some STDs can take up to 90 days to show up on tests. And mid-November would be about three months since your encounter with, uh, he-who-shall-not-be-named.”

“Chad?” 

“Yeah, him. If your doctor knew about him, he’d order the tests for sure. And he’d be required by law to report it. It would be best to avoid mentioning him.”

“And you,” he pointed out, flooding me with guilt.

“Yes. I hate to tell you to lie, but you need to make it clear your sex life only includes other boys your own age.”

He nodded. “Got it.”

“If your doctor wants to test you now, that’s great. If not, we’ll take Raymond up on his offer. I’ll feel much better knowing for sure that you’re clean, after what that asshole did to you — so you can forget about him once and for all.”

“Yeah,” he muttered. He looks worried. I hate bringing up that mother fucker. It mars every conversation. Max still hasn’t asked to watch his comeuppance, and I’ve decided to let it drop. Maybe someday he’ll change his mind, but if he doesn’t, that’s okay too. 

“Please don’t worry. It’s highly unlikely the tests will come back positive for anything. Most things would have shown up by now, and since prophylactics were used, I’m not as fearful of the things that don’t show immediately.”

He’s pressed tight against me, so I could feel his body tension loosen. “Okay.”

“But, maybe now you understand why I’ve been pushing you about condoms?”

“Yes sir. I get your concern.” I can tell he’s getting tired. 

“Good. I’ll make sure you are resupplied,” I said. “Anyway, we’ll see what the doctor thinks. And I’ll be there with you if you want, or I can stay in the waiting room.”

“That would be dumb. You know everything already. And don’t worry, I won’t be too honest.”

“I know you won’t,” I replied softly. 

We laid there quietly. I even closed my eyes, until I felt his hand unbutton my polo.

“Max, what are you doing?” I sure hope he isn’t going to try anything. 

“What? You know I like your chest hair. It’s soft and relaxes me.”

I laid there quietly for a few more minutes, allowing myself to be petted. I’d feel like a damn dog, but the truth is, I enjoy the platonic physical contact. It isn’t sexual for either of us. I suspect if it weren’t stigmatized and everyone were being honest with themselves instead of trying to seem hypermasculine, this sort of thing would be common amongst dads and sons. Hell, maybe it is, at least at younger ages.

Unfortunately, I need to pee. And honestly, while I love having Max curled up against me, I run hot at night and he stays plastered to me, so I rarely get quality rest.

“Sleep well,” I whispered before kissing him on the forehead and slipping out.

I stared at him from the threshold. He looks so content, his bare chest slowly rising and falling as his breathing shallows. If he isn’t asleep yet, he’s sure close. I grabbed my phone to turn off the LEDs (Max asked if he could put the app on my phone, just in case his was confiscated. I teased him that I sure hoped he wasn’t hedging his bets on another grounding) and quietly shut his door. 

Despite all of the craziness of the last few months, I really am so lucky. Even if Max weren’t so physically attractive, his presence fills a void in my life I never truly realized was there until I fell in love with him. 

I know that’s strong verbiage, but it’s true. I love this boy — my boy — more than I can articulate, and while it’s obviously complicated, it isn’t predominantly romantic. That’s layered in of course, and certainly makes it more complicated. I’ve come to realize that Max is the love of my life, but it’s so much deeper than base desire or emotional pining. The paternal instincts I have toward him are so intense… which necessitates the other thing being off-limits. 

*** End of Chapter 45 ***

Author’s Notes: We truly intended to get this chapter further along and break some new ground (for those of you reading both sides of this story). But as usual, it seems to get long on us so we wanted to get it out. 

As always, feel free to send feedback: craigpwriter888@tutanota.com