I
have several other stories out on Nifty. I'll post the links after
this story!
Speaking of Nifty...this site has been giving me my jollies for a long time now, as I'm sure it has for you also. Take a moment to make a donation so stories like this can keep flowing and so can you <wink>!
Now
for the usual disclaimers: 1. This story is about love and sexual
relations between adults and minors. If it is illegal to read these
stories where you live, or if you are under the age of 18, close the
site now. 2. This story is PURE FICTION. The reason for a site like
this is to get our rocks off without participating in illegal
activity.
This
first part is celibate and introduces the characters and how the next
chapter evolves.
Now
to the story!
Wyatt's Wishes
Part
1
by
Nifty Silver Bear
My mother and he best friend went into labor on the same day. In less than 5 hours apart, my best friend and I were born. We grew up living next to each other in Glencoe, a suburb of Chicago. While growing up, my best friend, Dale, and I experimented with each other sexually. When we turned 15 or 16, I realized that it wasn't a phase with me and Dale started dating girls from school. Dale and I remained best friends and when we graduated college, our mothers' decided they wanted to retire to Florida and left us the houses we were raised in. Dale married his high school sweetheart, Sylvia and I dated several guys, but no one seemed to want a full time relationship.
My name is Jim, by the way. I'm 6' tall, 180lbs, blond hair, hazel eyes, smooth body with good muscular tone and a 7" cut dick. (Just in case you're interested). I'm currently a full time paramedic with Cook County. I've also studied midwifery for those tricky calls involving women in labor.
It was a little over 3 years after Dale (who became a prosecutor) and Sylvia (a geriatrics nurse) got married that they were told they were going to have a child. Of course, I became the first contact when Sylvia would go into labor. I was at home, resting on my day off when I got a call from Dale. Sylvia was screaming in pain in the background. I rushed over to their house and barely had time to get a towel before Wyatt came into the world. He was perfect, 8lbs 9oz, 18" long, 10 fingers and toes. Since Dale and Sylvia were both part Native American, Dale was blessed with a full head of beautiful dark hair. I was as proud as any uncle/god father could be.
When Wyatt was 8 months old, he was christened and I was officially names his god father. I was involved with every aspect of Wyatt's life and a good baby sitter as well. When Wyatt was 2, Sylvia was carrying Wyatt when she tripped and fell down the stairs of their home. She was rushed to the hospital where she was pronounced brain dead. She was taken off the respirator a few days later. Wyatt had suffered a broken pelvis and a slight concussion. Dale was in shock. I stayed at the hospital to help with Wyatt while he took care of the arrangements. Dale fell into a deep depression and took a leave of absence from his job. Wyatt's injuries healed and it was almost a year before things started getting to normal. The only side effect of Wyatt's broken pelvis was he had a slight swishy limp when he walked.
By the time Wyatt started kindergarten, Wyatt's hair was below shoulder length and he, Dale, nor I would NOT hear of having it cut. Dale had dated a few women, but nothing had panned out. He resigned to staying a bachelor, at least for a few years. Because of his schedule, Dale named me as a guardian so I could pick up Wyatt from school, take him to doctors' visits and answer any legal questions that needed to be answered. So, when Wyatt came home from school crying about a bully, I went to the school to intervene. It seemed that a second grader has called Wyatt a girl and pushed him down because of his long hair. After speaking to the teacher and principal, the bullying seemed to stop, at least for a while. I had to make 4 separate visits to the school that year. 1st through 3rd grade was the same. At least 4 visits a year were made about bullying. It wasn't until the 4th grade that things turned worse.
Dale and I took Wyatt to his first day of 4th grade to meet his teacher. Miss. Phelps was an older, grandmotherly lady who seemed to have a calm demeanor and a kind attitude. How wrong we were. The second week of school, Dale called me bawling. Wyatt was taken to Cook County Hospital with cuts, bruises and a possible broken arm. Miss. Phelps had encouraged several older boys to "beat the queer" out of Wyatt. Dale went to the hospital while I went to the school. Miss. Phelps and 3 other boys were in the office in handcuffs being questioned by officers. When I walked in, Miss. Phelps started screaming, "That's the fag who taught Wyatt how to be a sissy."
"Excuse me?" I questioned, "Who do you think you are to question my sexuality? Why do you think I'm teaching Wyatt to be a sissy?"
"I'm an Officer of the Almighty God, a soldier in His army, that's who! Two men raising a boy is an abomination in God's eyes. We've all seen how Wyatt swishes when he walks. His hair was long, like a girls and he never shows interested in looking at girls. You're a fag teaching the next generation of fags to be just like YOU!"
"What do you mean his hair WAS long?"
At that moment, the principal, Mr. Reeves, stepped forward with hair clippers in his hand. "Miss. Phelps used these to shave Wyatt's head."
At that moment, I saw red. I almost forgot my mother's warning about ever hitting a female. I glowered at the bitch, "How dare you? His hair was a symbol of his Native American heritage. His limp is from a broken pelvis when he mother fell when he was two. You know NOTHING about Wyatt and you know NOTHING about me!"
Bitch spat, "Native Savages! Worshiping false gods and rocks and trees. The boy's mother fell and died because of sin in her heart. Wyatt was injured because of sin in his parent's and YOUR heart. My brother was right about all you fags and fag enablers. All of you are going to hell and you're going to take Wyatt right along with you."
At that time, the principal told the officer to remove her from the school. But I was thinking. The name Phelps, her brother, fag enablers? Then it hit me. She had to be from the Westboro Baptist Church. We found out later that was true and that she was being booked for felony assault, endangerment of a child, inciting violence and other hate crimes. The boys who carried out the attack and held Wyatt were being booked for aggravated assault.
Once the office had been cleared of scum, Mr. Reeves had me step into his off where, when the door was closed, broke down into sobs. "I've held this in as long as I can. I'm so sorry that this happened at my school. I'm going to hand in my resignation first thing in the morning."
I
shook my head, "Mr. Reeves. That bitch had me fooled and I'm a
GREAT judge of character. Was there anything that stood out that
made you think she'd be capable of this?"
"No, nothing.
She seemed the perfect little old lady teacher to me. I can't tell
you how sorry I am this happened to Wyatt. He's such a happy boy
and his grades are straight A's. I'd never wish this on anyone,
much less a delightful boy like Wyatt."
"I'd hold off on that letter for the time being. I don't believe you had any idea of what she was planning, or of what was going on with the other boys either. Let me talk to Wyatt's dad before you throw away your career on something you had no control over."
I left the school and headed to the hospital. When I arrived at the ER, I was blocked by nurses telling me that I wasn't allowed back there. I texted Dale and came up front and told the nurses that I was allowed back there. The nurses still wouldn't allow me stating that only family members were allowed back.
"This is Wyatt's uncle, and unless you want me to bring a lawsuit against each and every one of you and the hospital, I'd open the doors and allow him back there."
I was finally allowed back and we went to the room where Wyatt was resting. His arm was in a sling, but no cast. His eye was swollen shut and he had 6 stitches across his forehead. His beautiful long hair was cut to 1/4 inch in length. It was all I could do to keep from bawling. His one eye opened and he mumbled, "Uncle Jimmy." I went to his bed and stroked his cheek.
I told him, "I'm here, Buddy."
"They cut my hair."
"I know they did. They're in jail right now and I don't think they'll be out anytime soon."
About that time, the doctor came in and introduced himself. He said Wyatt was lucky. His arm had a minute fracture in it, and needed to be in a sling for a while, but nothing was seriously wrong. He'd stay overnight to make sure he was find and would be able to go home in the morning. Around 7:00, a nurse came and gave Wyatt some pills. One was an antibiotic to help fight off any infection he may have and the other, we were told, would make Wyatt sleep until at least 10 the next morning. Dale and I decided to go home and get some rest.
When we got to Dale's house, I told him everything that happened at the school. "I'd love to be on the team that prosecutes that woman and those kids, but I won't be allowed to. And, you're right, Jim. From what you tell me, Mr. Reeves had no clue on what was happening. I hope he won't let this ruin his career. Maybe I'll go see him before we hit the hospital tomorrow morning."
The day's activities was working on Dale's ability to stay awake, so he went upstairs to bed and I went home. I cried again, thinking about the wonderful person Wyatt was and how cruel some people are in the world.
I woke the next morning to the sound of an incoming text message on my phone. It was Dale asking if I wanted to ride with him to the school and hospital. I accepted. After a quick shower, I was dressed and we were on our way. Our conference went well, and after much crying on Mr. Reeves' part, it was decided that he would not resign and we wouldn't be holding the school accountable, considering how quickly they stopped the attack and called the police.
We went to the hospital next and met with the doctor. "Wyatt is doing much better today. The swelling around his eye has gone down and he can open his eye. He needs to be seen by his doctor in a week for an update on his arm, then in a few weeks to have the stitches removed from his head. With that being said, I see no reason why Wyatt can't go home as soon as I draw up the paperwork."
We thanked the doctor and sat with Wyatt, waiting for his discharge papers. It was a few moments later when a nurse walked into the room and handed Dale the papers for him to sign. "I'm Marci, the head nurse for the ER. I heard about what happened yesterday about my nurses not letting Wyatt's uncle come in and see him. Each nurse involved has had a reprimand place in their record, except one who was terminated. This is because she's already been disciplined about this before. Before they denied access, it's the policy of the hospital to check with the attending guardian to make that decision. I'm truly sorry about everything."
We assured her that it was no real harm done and, because of the reprimands, all was forgiven. We brought Wyatt some clothes from home, since his old clothes had blood on them. We got him dressed and soon, we were on our way home. Wyatt wanted both of us close by that night, even though he would be given medicine to make him sleep the night. I went back to my place, got a change of clothes and came back. I stayed in the guest room, right next to Wyatt's. Since it was Thursday, we decided that Wyatt would stay out of school until after the weekend. Wyatt's face returned to its regular shape and color and he was in good spirits. Dale got notice from the police department that Miss. Phelps and the boys who assaulted Wyatt would be in detention for the entire weekend, since the bale was too high for any of the families to raise it until Monday.
The one thing Wyatt wouldn't understand is how Miss. Phelps thought that beating him and cutting his hair would make him any less gay. I asked him why Miss. Phelps thought he was gay, anyway.
"You know my best friend, Jamie? Well, Miss. Phelps caught me giving him a kiss in the hall. He was upset about his parent's divorce and I gave him a hug and just kissed him."
I looked at Dale and he nodded at me, knowing my next set of questions?
"Wyatt, do you like Jamie as more than a friend?"
Wyatt looked down at his hands, folded in his lap and he nodded, yes. He sniffed.
"Would you like Jamie to be more than a friend to you?"
Another nod, then a sob. A single tear fell from his eye, down his cheek and landed on his lap.
I put my finger under his chin and raised his face to meet mine. "Buddy, why are you crying?"
"Because I don't wanna go to hell and burn for eternity. That's what Mrs. Phelps said would happen to be if I liked boys. I told her my uncle was gay and you didn't believe that. That's when Mrs. Phelps told me that we'd go to hell together." He was actively crying at this point.
I picked up Wyatt and held him close to me. I shushed him for a bit, stroking his head and telling him everything would be okay.
"Wyatt, you know that neither your dad nor I believe in a god who'd punish someone for loving another person. God, if there is a god, is supposed to be a loving father to us all. I know your father loves you, no matter who you love. You can be gay, straight or bisexual, all your father, and I, hope for you is you find happiness in your life. My grandfather used to have a saying that I still believe in today. `Whatever floats your boat, as long as you don't sink others.' That means that, as long as you don't hurt anyone, treat people with respect and love with all your heart, whatever you do with your life is fine with me."
Wyatt sobbed one more time, took a big sniffle and look me in the eyes and said, "I love you, Uncle Jimmy."
I looked at him and told him I loved him also, with all my heart.
Later
that evening, Wyatt was sitting on my lap while we watched some TV.
He reached for the remote and paused the movie and looked at me.
"Can I tell you something, private?"
"Of course, Bud.
Anytime."
"There's someone else I like more than Jamie. I'm afraid to tell him because I don't know how he'll respond. I want him to be my boyfriend forever. I want to marry him."
"And who is this boy you like more than Jamie?"
His eyes went to his hands again and he said something I couldn't hear.
"What, Bud? I couldn't hear you."
"It's you." He said it in a whisper I had to strain to hear. But he had just told me he wanted me to be his boyfriend. He wanted to marry me!
My mind was going a thousand miles a minute. I had to be careful how I responded. If I was too blunt, it would upset Wyatt. "I'm very flattered that you want me to be your boyfriend. Would you rather had a boyfriend who's more your age?"
"Nope. I want you to be my boyfriend."
I chuckled, "I'm old enough to be your dad."
"I don't want my dad to be my boyfriend, I want you."
"I'll tell you what, let's put this aside for a bit, okay. Let me think about it and we'll talk about it in a few days. Is that okay?"
He nodded yes and pressed play on the remote. He snuggled into my chest and was asleep before the movie ended. I carried him to his room and tucked him in. I kissed his forehead where the stitches were and told him I loved him.
When I left the room, I knocked on Dale's door. I sat on his bed and I told him of our conversation. Dale laughed. He said, "I never knew if I was getting a son-in-law or a daughter-in-law, but I'd hoped that whoever he married wouldn't be older than I am."
"DAMMIT Dale, it's not funny. I don't know if it's the meds talking, or if he really feels like that about me. I don't know how to tell him that it's impossible. And I'm not older, we're the same age."
Dale, who'd stopped laughing and was looking at me with sincerity, asked, "Who said it's impossible?"
"Well, let's see. The police, lawyers, the supreme court and almost every state and federal law in existence."
"Hmm, that's true. But, it's not the first time that Wyatt's told me he wanted you to be his boyfriend. He told me when he was five that he was going to marry you someday."
I blinked at Dale. "He's a 9 year old boy. I'm thirty years older than he is. How do I let him down gently?"
He continued, "Whatever rocks your boat, as long as you don't sink others'"
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"What happens in our houses, stays in our houses. Jimmy, I've known for a while, now, that Wyatt was gay. He knows you're gay. He loves you. As long as he's not hurt in any way, I can't deny him what he wants. I won't stand in the way. The decision is yours and yours alone."
So, that was that. My best friend just told me it was okay to date his 9 year old son. Sure. I mean, why not. We can date. Dating doesn't mean sex. It's not illegal to take my nephew out on dates. Dinner, movies, carnival, circus, etc. Sure, I'll date him. What could go wrong?
To be continued.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/his-deepest-secret.html
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/halloween-boy.html
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/my-little-alien-encounter.html
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/the-boy-in-room-102/
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/adult-youth/first-of-many-firsts.html