Date: Mon, 28 Nov 2016 12:29:30 -0700
From: h.schreiber@hushmail.com
Subject: Chapter 41 of Come Christmas Steve

Come Christmas Steve

Chapter 41

Didn't See that Coming

The next morning was crazy hectic with everyone trying to shower. Mom
wouldn't have approved, but we doubled up in the upstairs shower. Billy and
Steve showered together first and while they were drying off, Whittaker,
Todd, and I jumped in. It was crowded in the small space and we bumped and
rubbed against each other. I think it must have been the first time that
Todd had seen Whittaker naked.  He was staring aghast at Whittaker's
amazing dangling specimen. I laughed and nudged him. "What you looking at?"
I asked. It reminded me of being back in the dorms when Whittaker would
wander around showing off his big dick.

"Umm, sorry. It's just..., I've never seen one that big, and I've seen a
zillion dicks," Todd said.

"Well pull yourself together, rinse and move over to soap up," Whittaker
told him. Todd quickly stepped out of the spray to soap up and wash his
hair, or more precisely, his scalp. His hair was buzzed short like
Steve's. Whittaker and I took turns soaping and rinsing, then Todd rinsed
off and we all got out to dry off. By the time we all piled down the
stairs, Mom was making threats that there would be no lunch for any of us
if we made her late.

When we got to the Elks Lodge, the crowd was shockingly large. We weren't
late, but there was still only chairs left near the front. It's strange to
me how churches always fill up from the back first and the last rows to go
are the front ones. Unlike a concert or a rodeo where the front rows go
first.

We passed by Cheyenne and her little boy. The boy was sitting on the aisle
and swinging his legs back and forth. Seeing me, he smiled and waved. I was
sure he was remembering how I let him shoot the baskets at the Turkey
Shoot, even though he had no tickets left. Kids get so much joy from little
things in life. Adults should learn from that.

I noticed that Cheyenne was looking better than I'd ever seen her. She was
in a new, light green dress, and she was even wearing some makeup. She'd
curled and styled her hair instead of leaving it to droop over the sides of
her face. She was sitting next to Shawna and Jaime. I wondered if the two
of them had something to do with the makeover. Whittaker peeled off and
went to sit in an empty chair that Shawna had saved for him.

Our group filled an entire row of seats. Pastor Nichols expressed his
appreciation for all of the help with the fundraiser and announced that
with the success of the Turkey Shoot, combined with some anonymous donors,
there were enough funds to engage an architect for the new worship
center. It was very exciting, and I was happy our family was part of it. I
felt like we'd really found a spiritual home. I was so happy to be sitting
next to Steve in church. I never dreamed I'd be able to share that part of
my life with him.

Pastor Nichols centered his sermon on trusting in the Lord. He shared, with
my permission, my experience of being troubled by my important plea bargain
decision, and my feeling a need to counsel with him. He'd also cleared it
with Colt and Mrs. Withers to share some experiences from the trial.
Pastor Nichols told of how he'd felt compelled to drive all the way to
Caspar in one night and meet with me in jail. All of that, he did on faith
- not really knowing why he needed to come see me. He shared a small
portion of our conversation in Caspar and the gut-wrenching decision I had
to make.

"Shane was potentially facing decades, or even life, in prison," Pastor
Nichols began. "He had a chance to take an eight year deal at a lower
security facility that would be a safer environment for him. He knew he was
innocent. He had decided to do the rational thing and take the deal. He
prayed for guidance and wished in his heart that he could talk to me or his
father about his decision. This turned out to be a faith promoting
experience, not only for Shane, but for me as well."

He paused, getting a little emotional, and then carried on, "The Spirit of
God wrought upon Shane's soul and showing great faith, Shane trusted those
promptings. It was risky. Some would even say it was foolish. But Shane
felt peace when he decided to reject the deal and fight the charges. As a
living miracle, Shane is here amongst us today. Sometimes, my friends, we
have to simply trust in those promptings we receive from God. He loves us
completely and just like a loving parent here on earth, he can't always
protect us, but when he can, he will try."

Steve had tears sliding down his cheeks. He wrapped his fingers into mine
and I leaned into him. I felt chills. I felt blessed. The rest of the
sermon centered on trusting God. Steve loved the music and the
sermon. Afterwards we filed out and the crisp November air prickled the
lungs. There were leftover patches of snow on the yellowing grass that we
spilled out onto. The congregation's atmosphere was lively and festive. I
was getting so excited for the coming holidays. Billy invited Jaime over to
celebrate Thanksgiving at our ranch, and Whittaker invited Shawna. Mom
asked Cheyenne if she had somewhere to go for Thanksgiving.

"No, Ma'am. I have to work that morning at the hospital, so I'll just have
my sitter bring my boy over and we'll eat there at the hospital," she
answered.

"What time do you get off work?" Mom asked her.

"At one," Cheyenne answered.

"Well, we'd love to have you join us. We won't be eating until
three. Please come," Mom offered.

"I don't want to impose. I'm sure you have a large group already," Cheyenne
responded.

"We do, and two more, well one and a half more, won't make any
difference. It's settled. We'll see you shortly after one o'clock."
Cheyenne thanked her and admitted it would be nice to share the holiday
with a family. She commented that she'd never done that in her whole life.

As the week progressed, preparations for Thanksgiving heated up. We cleaned
out the barn and setup cots for all us guys and the boy cousins who were
coming. They would be with us through the weekend.  We had a sledding and
tubing trip planned over at Lawrence Park on Saturday. Steve was really
excited for that. He remembered how much fun we'd had doing that together
at Christmastime. We cleaned out the shop and setup tables. It was the only
place large enough to seat everyone.

On top of that, we kept busy with the sprayer business. Whittaker devoted
most of his time to that. I helped with the business and also helped show
Steve and Todd what to do on the ranch. Steve and Todd worked eight full
hours a day winterizing the equipment, mending fences, and doing the daily
chores with the animals.

Wednesday, after everything was setup, Billy announced he was going to
visit Jaime. "Mind if we join you?" Steve asked.

Billy smiled. "Not as long as you get your own room," he answered.

"Oh we'll definitely get our own room," I stated. We let Dad know we would
be gone a while and climbed into the truck. As we drove into town, Steve
remarked how he could never get used to the beauty of our valley. We
stopped at Wal-Mart to get condoms for Billy and lube for Steve and I. I
thought Billy might tease us, but he didn't. He totally accepted that we
were lovers, and it didn't bother him at all.

Wal-Mart had their "Giving Tree" up already. Steve pulled me over to
it. "We have to do this again," he said. Billy didn't really want to. He
was anxious to go pick up Jaime and get on with the purpose of our trip.

"C'mon, Billy," Steve chided. "It won't take that long. You'll still have
plenty of time to get your rocks off with Jaime. Now pick out a kid and
let's go buy them something."

We each selected a child's wishing star off of the tree and read their age
and a couple of things they liked. We grabbed a cart and headed out to make
our selections. It was fun. Billy really got into it once we started, and
he chose a pirate ship with cannons that actually shot miniature
cannonballs for the little boy he'd selected. Steve purchased a doll and
some clothes for a little girl. I bought a fishing pole and tackle box for
a young teen who liked fishing. I hoped he liked ice fishing or it would be
a while before he could enjoy his present around Kalispell.

"That was fun," Steve said. "The coolest part is that I bought it all with
money I earned myself." I smiled at that and realized how many things Steve
had never done that most kids with a normal family take for granted. I felt
like it would be an adventure watching him experience many things for the
first time.

"I agree. That was fun. I think I'll take Jaime here on Saturday and do it
again with her," Billy added.

We picked Jaime up, and she was surprised, and a little amused, to see me
and Steve in the truck. We each rented our own rooms and only paid for one
hour. The clerk didn't bat an eye over Steve and I renting a room
together. Maybe, we weren't the only gay couple doing it. We headed to our
rooms and I'd no more than shut the door than Steve was grabbing for me.

We practically ripped our clothes off and headed for the shower. Steve was
pretty dirty and stinky from working around the ranch all day. It was nice
to be naked in the shower together and to have his strong hands roaming all
over my naked body. When we finished, we were both boned up solid. We dried
off and headed straight to the bed. Foreplay consisted of some kissing and
hurried fondling, and then Steve took charge. He was extremely horny and on
a premeditated mission. He fumbled with the lube we'd purchased to get it
free from the packaging. I was lying on my back and stroking his stiff bone
while he was messing with the lube.

Once he extracted it from the packaging, he lubed up my dick instead of his
and then dobbed some in his ass. He straddled me and directed himself down
onto my engorged shaft. He dropped down onto it, impaling himself with a
satisfied moan. "Switching roles today, are we?" I asked.

"Do you mind?" he replied.

"Not at all. Feels good," I answered. "I like you taking charge."

He smiled. "I got the feeling, you know?"

"I know, I know. It was so hard in jail, worrying that it might be years
before we'd get to lie together again and make love like this. If I'd taken
the eight year deal, think how long it would have been before we could be
together?" I mused.

"That scares me," Steve said. "I really love what Pastor Nichols shared
last Sunday. I'm proud of you for having the courage to reject the plea
agreement and fight the charges. I doubt I would have been so brave."

"I was scared. Really scared. At times during the trial, I felt like I'd
made a huge mistake, but I just kept feeling peace whenever I thought about
it. I just knew it would be okay somehow, and if it didn't work out, there
would be a reason for it."

It seemed odd to be having such a deep discussion while my manhood was
buried so deep into my lover.  It wasn't exactly pillow talk. I reached up
and caressed his broad chest with my left hand, while I gently stroked his
silky erection with my right. His balls were pressed against my pubes. I
looked up at him and smiled. "I love you," I said softly.

"I love you too," he echoed. "I think this is going to work out between
us."

"I think so too," I agreed.

He leaned down and kissed me tenderly. Then he sat back up and wiggled
around on my firm shaft. He started riding me and I resumed stroking
him. He squeezed my shaft by clenching his sphincter muscle as he rose and
fell, intensifying the experience for me. He leaned a little further back,
adding tension to my erect penis and sped up with a little urgency. His
neck flexed and I could see the veins start to protrude. "Ah, ah, ah," he
gasped with each downward thrust until he rocked backwards and shot his
warm semen over my chest and neck. Some landed on my chin and I licked
it. It was tangy and warm.  He rolled us over so that I was on top and he
said, "Now I want you to fuck me, Shane. Pound me."

And fuck him I did. I started pounding his ass in wild abandon, eyes
closed, teeth clenched. "Yes! Yes!"  he cried out. He didn't lose his
erection, even though he'd already shot his load. My pounding on his
prostate gland kept him erect. He lifted his legs and wrapped them around
my back. He clutched at the bedsheets while I lustfully drove myself in and
out of him. I crested and moaned, "Cum, Shaney, cum."

When it was over, I fell onto him and we kissed and swapped tongues. His
cum was slippery and sticky at the same time, gluing us together. I
suddenly slipped out of his ass with a small pop and we giggled over
it. Then we kissed some more. I traced my finger across his lips and smiled
sweetly at him. He smiled back, "That was incredible. Thanks," he
whispered.

"Thank you," I responded. "I hate to say this, but we need to get showered
up and head out. Our hour is almost up."

"That sucks," Steve said. "I could lay here naked with you all day."

"Someday, my love. Someday, we will be able to do that," I answered.

Steve and I were all smiles on the way home. Good sex just makes me happy
inside. Billy and Jaime seemed a little edgy, though. I wondered if they'd
had some kind of disagreement.

When we got home, Nicolas's family had arrived and so had my brother,
Tom. Tom and I hugged and I thanked him for all his help with my case. He
played it off, but Adam had told me how much background work Tom had done
for the case. Tom said he wanted some time together to hear my side of
things about being in jail and what it was like to be falsely accused. He
wanted a client's perspective on the kind of things that would interest a
budding attorney. Plus, as loving brother, he was genuinely interested in
how I was a doing.

I went over to Nicolas when he was alone and apologized to him. "I'm sorry
I told my friend about what you taught me as kids. I never dreamed it would
ever get repeated, especially in court," I said.

"Yeah, you little fucker. When this fed showed up and started into asking
me shit, I was like, 'Whoa, what the fuck?'"

"I imagine you did. I am really sorry."

"Nah, it's all good now. It's over and done with, and no one really give a
shit about it, anyway. He extended his fist and we bumped knuckles." Then
he bluntly asked, "So you're gay, huh?"

"Yeah. I'm gay."

"Is it my fault?" he asked. He was dead serious.

"No," I chuckled. "It's not your fault. I've always been gay. You don't
become gay - you're either born gay or you're not."

"Oh. Kind of like how we both got the Steele chin?" he asked.

"Yeah. Like that, I guess. It's all in the chromosomes," I told him.

"Hmm. So you're a chromo-sexual," he joked. I laughed along with him. I had
to admit, that was pretty funny. Usually Nicolas's jokes were either crude
or rude or both. Nicolas was what my mom would call "a handful."

"I guess you could say that," I agreed.

"Well if a Steele's number was due up to get the gay chromos, I'm glad it
was you instead of me. I like pussy way too much," he said.

"Glad I could take one for the team then," I told him.

"You da man, dude," he joked, then gave me another fist bump. I got called
on to go help setup chairs out in the shop. Nicolas got up and came to
help, which ended our conversation and I was glad to have that bit of
awkward business out of the way. The apology had gone okay. I still needed
to talk to his little brother and clear the air with him. I promised my mom
that I'd talk to both of them so there wouldn't be any uncomfortable
situations over the holiday weekend.

Karl and his wife, Cynthia, showed up late. Karl had worked a half day. I
had to miss their wedding because I was in jail awaiting trial when they
got married. I congratulated them on their marriage and they were both very
gracious. They expressed how thankful they were that everything worked out
for me. They seemed so deliriously happy together. They were still totally
wrapped up in each other and touched and kissed all the time. I wondered
how long it would be before I'd become a gay uncle.

We had a nice dinner together. It was simple because the big feed was the
next day. Mom pressured Steve into strumming some chords on the guitar. Mom
played the piano and we sang some Christmas songs. Thanksgiving was sort of
the official time that it was okay to start celebrating Christmas at our
house. Afterwards, we all separated for our sleeping quarters. Karl and
Cynthia got the "lovers bungalow" that Whittaker and Todd vacated. All the
single boys headed for the barn and crawled into our sleeping bags and
under Mom's heavy quilts, which she'd laid out for us. It would get
seriously cold during the night.

We chatted a bit. Tom shared some funny stories from Dartmouth. Nicolas and
his brother Daniel got telling dirty jokes. Some were funny, but most of
them were not. Steve, Todd and I didn't share much.  Whittaker got talking
about my dad's invention and some of that was interesting. Then Nicolas
said,

"Hey, here's a joke for Shane and Steve."

"Oh my god, really?" I asked.

"You'll like it. It's good. Hey, I been telling straight jokes all night, I
gotta do some gay ones for equal rights," he spouted.

"Go on then," I groaned. "Get it over with."

"So these two condoms are walking down the street in San Francisco, right?
And one condom says to the other one, 'Let's go in that gay bar over there
and get shitfaced.'" Daniel laughed, and Nicolas laughed, but no one else
did.

"Okay. Okay. If you don't like that one, here's one you gotta like."

"Seriously, Nicolas?" I said.

"Hold on. You'll like this one. I promise you'll laugh. If you don't laugh,
Daniel here will give you a blowjob," Nicolas said.

"Fuck I will," Daniel objected.

"Okay. So did you hear they're doing a remake of that old TV comedy show
'Leave It to Beaver'?" Nicolas paused for us to prompt him to finish.

"Nope," I said. "What about it?"

"Yeah, they are. Only, it's going to be a little different. The brothers on
the show are both gay and they're changing the title."

"How are they changing the title?" I asked, playing along.

"They're calling it, 'Leave It, It's Beaver.'" I actually laughed at that
one. It caught me off guard and was actually a little bit
clever. Unfortunately, that encouraged him.

"So do you know why gay guys can't drive over 68 miles an hour?" Nicolas
asked.

"No, why?" Steve asked this time.

"Because when they do 69, they blow a rod."

"Okay, that's enough of those," Tom said.

"All right. Here's a lawyer joke for you then," Nicolas said. "If a lawyer
and an IRS agent were both drowning and you could only save one of them,
would you go to lunch or check your email?"

"Ha-hah," Tom said. "I've heard them all."

"Yeah, whatever. You know you liked them. So what're we doing in the
morning, besides freezing our nards off when we climb out of bed?" Nicolas
asked.

"Chores," I said. "Everything has to get done in the morning before things
get going for the big feed."

"Okay, I'm tired," Tom said. "How about we all try and get some sleep."
There was common agreement and we started drifting off. Nicolas pinched his
cheek and started making fapping noises.

"Oh my god, Nicolas," Tom groaned. "Knock it off. What are you thirteen?"

"It wasn't me," he claimed. "I think it was coming from over there. Someone
move their cot between Steve and Shane so we can all get some sleep
tonight."

"You're about as funny as a blind Jewish Mohel," Steve said. Only Tom and
Todd started laughing. The rest of us didn't get it.

"Huh?" Nicolas asked. "I don't get it."

"Look it up in the morning," Steve told him. One by one the rest of us
slipped under our covers and googled Jewish Mole. It corrected it to Mohel
and one after another we all busted up laughing. That finally shut Nicolas
up and we fell asleep. All except me. I was reliving the amazing sex I'd
had with Steve at the motel.

Billy had been strangely disconnected from the conversation. I was even
more convinced that he and Jaime must have had a disagreement. He'd been on
his cell phone all night. Out of curiosity, I slipped the phone from his
fingers as he slept. I checked the text messages from Jaime. There was no
clue, and in fact, they hadn't communicated at all since earlier that day
at the motel. I felt guilty for intruding and clicked out of messages. The
internet site he'd been searching came up when I closed messages, and I
looked to see what he'd searched on. It was an article on menstrual
cycles. I chuckled to myself. I figured his irritation must have been from
Jaime being on the rag and refusing him entry. He probably had to settle
for a hand job or blowjob, perhaps. He was still so immature in many ways.

The morning was crazy cold, and we did in fact freeze our nards off when we
had to get up and dress.  We all pitched in to get the chores done and by
noon, they were finished. Billy showered first and took off to collect
Jaime, Shawna, and Cheyenne with her little boy. The upstairs bathroom was
designated as the men's room and the downstairs bathrooms were for the
ladies. There were two bathrooms downstairs.

Guys were in and out of the upstairs bathroom and in various states of
undress, showering and getting ready for the big meal. I got in the shower
just as my dad got out and it was the first time in many years I'd seen him
naked. I was fascinated that we basically had the same shaped penis - a
smaller dickhead than shaft. I Googled it later on and found out that
either parent could pass on the genes for that kind of physical
characteristic. It was called a phenotype. It could even come from
generations back, and it could be affected by external factors as well,
such as the level of testosterone in the mother's system during
gestation. I wondered if Whittaker's mom had been on steroids while she
carried him.

Whittaker's parents and sister arrived around two o'clock to join
us. Whittaker was excited to have them there and his sister was friendly
and engaging. The last touches were being put on the dinner. The women were
busy in the kitchen and no men were allowed. Most of the guys were jammed
into the family room watching football. Billy arrived with Jaime, Shawna,
Cheyenne and her boy. The little boy made friends with two of my older
cousin's kids and they went off exploring the animal pens until it was time
to eat. Once we all gathered in the shop, which had been converted to a
dining hall, my father got everyone's attention and said grace.

In his prayer, he thanked the Lord for our many blessings and for the
miracles our family had received.  He asked for a blessing on the less
fortunate and prayed for us to be able and willing to see their need and
render comfort. After the prayer, Mom insisted that before we could dig in,
we had to each say what we were thankful for.

When it came around to our table, Todd went first. "I'm thankful to the
Steele's for their generosity in letting me stay with them until I can get
a permanent job."

Steve went next. "I'm thankful to be alive and freed from the shackles of
my past. I'm especially thankful to Shane and Whittaker for making both of
those things possible."

Whittaker stood up and said with all sincerity, "I'm thankful to know
Shane. I'm thankful for his kindness and his example of loyalty and
courage. Shane gave me the courage to find myself and be a better person."

Shawna went next and said, "I'm thankful that Shane got me introduced to
David. His friendship is a wonderful blessing to me." All of that made me
smile and feel really good.

At the next table, Billy was thankful for Jaime and Jaime was thankful for
Billy. Not a big surprise.  Cheyenne shyly said, "I'm thankful for my son,
who gives my life meaning and purpose."

Everyone finally finished with their thankful comments and Nicolas asked,
"Can we eat now?"

Dad declared it open season and everyone started dishing up. The food was
as phenomenal as ever, and I realized with each bite, how blessed I was,
and how blessed we all were as a family. Things couldn't have been any
better. After stuffing ourselves with the amazing meal, we all agreed to
put off having dessert until later. The guys helped clear the tables and
the teens and young adults all helped with the cleaning up of the kitchen
and washing dishes.

Whittaker and his mom went back out to the shop and sat together with
Shawna at a corner table. They were engrossed in a seemingly serious
conversation. I couldn't help but wonder if they were discussing Whittaker
and Shawna getting serious with each other. It would be like Whittaker to
keep that private from me. I was curious as a cat, but didn't want to
intrude. Steve had gotten involved in an extensive conversation with
Cheyenne, and they walked together out near the animal pens so that her
little boy could pet the sheep and feed some scraps to the pigs while they
caught up. I supposed they were reliving their experiences back at the
corrupt boys home. Billy and Jaime were off taking a long walk together,
probably to find a place to make out. So Todd and I found ourselves oddly
partnered up since neither of us had much interest in watching the football
games.

Walking out to the barn, Todd asked me, "How are things with you and
Steve?"

I was immediately defensive. "Why do you ask that?"

"Just wondering. No need to get all freaked. Steve just hasn't said much
about you and him since we've been here. He talked about you all the time
back at the prison," he explained.

"Things are good between us. We love each other," I answered as we entered
the barn. I was glad to hear he'd been talking about me.

Todd wanted to see the rope swing that Steve had told him about. We climbed
up to the loft and I let him try swinging on it a few times. He liked it
and was good at it right off.

"Are you in love with Steve?" I asked as we sat on a bale of hay.

"I'm not a threat to you," he answered. "I know you think that, but I'm
not."

"That's not what I asked," I told him. He smiled at me.

"I know," he said. "But I thought I'd cut straight to the question you
really wanted to ask."

"Okay, maybe that was my reason for asking, but I still want to know if
you're in love with him," I said.

"I guess I love him, but not like you're meaning it. We went through a lot
together at the fucked up boys home. We had a ton of sex with each other
and we had each other's backs. I imagine it's a tiny bit like being
soldiers. Those guys love each other but they don't really LOVE each
other. They just bond in a unique way because of what they go through
together."

"But you and Steve did make LOVE to each other. That's a big difference," I
argued.

"We never really made love. We had sex. Sometimes it was a performance for
the cameras, sometimes it was forced on us, and sometimes it was just
recreation. It was never really making love like how you're implying it."

I pondered that. It was a similar thing that Steve had said to me. I
guessed I couldn't really understand it since I'd never experienced
anything like they'd been through. I didn't fully understand how to
separate sex and emotion. Even when I'd done it with Nicolas as a boy and
with Whittaker, there was some level of emotion involved. Steve and Todd
made it sound like picking your nose. "Do you think Steve and I have a
chance to make a relationship work?" I asked.

"I would have said no, a while ago. Steve was a hardened cynic with a
fierce sense of right and wrong and he had been wronged so much. I don't
think he had the capacity to love. I'm not sure if I do either.  Finding
out that asshole, Judge Arty, was actually his biological father sent Steve
into a really dark place.  Arty used to do us, for God's sake, and he
wasn't gentle about it. Then he'd just toss us back into the home. How does
that not screw with your head? But that preacher guy in Yankton really had
an effect on Steve. Plus your love for him and how much you risked for
him. He never really wrapped his head around why you'd do that. That all
softened him up a lot, and he's doing tons better."

"I feel so bad for Steve. I wish I knew how to help him," I said.

"You have helped him. Your persistent meddling ended up being the best
thing that ever happened to Steve and me. I'll tell you this, Steve feels
really indebted to you," Todd said.

"So, Steve told me we needed to take things slow to get to know each other
better before we commit. Is he just doing that because he feels indebted to
me?" I asked, fearful of what the answer would be.

"No. Steve wouldn't do that. He hates that kind of thing. He's a straight
shooter. He always does what he thinks is the right thing. If he says he
wants to take some time, he means it. He's not just fucking with your
emotions. He has feelings of love for you. He's told me that. He's just not
going to trust his feelings, or yours for that matter, without being very
sure," Todd explained. "Trust comes really slow when you grow up like we
did."

I felt so much better with that explanation. "Thanks for sharing that with
me. I have to confess, I never really liked you that much. But you seem
okay," I admitted.

Todd smiled. "Yeah, I know. You almost had Whittaker break my fucking neck,
back at MSU. I wasn't too big of a fan of you or him back then."

I smiled also. "I guess not."

"It's crazy the way things turn out sometimes. Things you never expect," I
mused.

"That's for sure," Todd agreed. "What'll you do if this trial period thing
with Steve doesn't work out for some reason?"

"I don't know," I answered. "I don't have a plan B. What are you planning
to do with yourself?"

"Find a job. Get an education. Eventually find someone to spend my life
with, I hope. I'm not rushing into that decision either. Just like you and
Steve. Well..., Steve. I'm guessing you'd marry up with Steve tomorrow, if
he'd say okay. Am I right?"

"You're right. I would. I guess I shouldn't be so impetuous like that. It
has kind of gotten me into trouble in the past," I admitted. We took some
more swings on the rope and then headed back to the house.  Steve and
Cheyenne were still talking together. I asked Todd, "Did you know Cheyenne
when she was at the boys home?"

"Sure. She worked in the kitchen. Steve talked her into sneaking us
food. He shared it with me," he answered.

"They were friends?" I asked.

"Not really, I don't think. I don't really know. Steve was helping her with
something. Classes maybe.  Steve's really smart and I think she might have
been going to night school or something. Steve's a good guy. He's a sucker
for an underdog."

"I know. He helped me when I needed it most," I said. We went in and
watched football with the other guys after that and arrived just in time
for the pie and ice cream. I saw Steve come in and go upstairs, so I
finished my pie, took the plate to kitchen sink, and went up to find
him. As I was climbing the stairs, Billy announced that he was taking the
girls back home in a bit, and he was going to hang out at Jaime's place for
a while. He didn't mention that it was his dick that was going to be doing
the hanging out.  I found Steve sitting on Billy's bed - the one they were
sharing. He was staring out the window in deep thought. "Can I come in?" I
asked.

Steve looked over at me slowly, then motioned me in with a slight nod. I
walked over and sat down next to him. "Did you and Cheyenne have a nice
chat?"

"I guess," was all he said.

"Okay. Did talking about the boys home with her bring back some sad
memories or something?" I pried.

"Not really."

"Okay. So, Billy's taking all the girls back home and then he's hanging out
with Jaime for a while. I'm sure they have more than just hanging out
planned. Made me think that maybe you'd like to go work off some calories
too. Interested?" I asked. I was hopeful.

"No. Not today," Steve declined. "Sex, sex, sex. Shit Shane. Can't you
think of anything else?"

"God, I'm sorry. I just...." I felt the burn of disappointment welling up.

"Listen," he said, looking me in the eye. I was dying to know what had him
so sullen, but I didn't dare pry any further because I knew how much he
hated that. He'd share when he was ready to share. He finished his
sentence, "Cheyenne told me about an entry level job at the hospital
accounting office. I'm going to go apply on Monday."

"Why? You still have work here you can do," I said.

"We both know it's mostly made up work at this point. Todd can handle it. I
need to be thinking longer term and it's local. It's what I need to do," he
said.

"Okay. That's all part of our plan, right? You get a job and a place here
and then when the time is right, we move in together and all the rest just
like you planned."

"Right. Just like I planned," Steve said flatly.

"What do you want to do instead of going with Billy and Jaime?" I asked.

He looked back out the window a minute and then he looked at me. "Eat some
pie and ice cream, hang out with you, practice on my guitar, and not think
about anything beyond today."

"Great. I'm good with that. What kind of pie? I'll get you some," I
offered.

"Surprise me," he said. If your mom baked it, it's my favorite." I smiled
and leaned over to kiss him. He let me and it was just a smooch. He didn't
turn it into anything more. I was okay with it, though. After talking with
Todd, I had a different perspective on Steve's emotions. Something was
bothering him and sooner or later, he'd tell me. Or he wouldn't, and I
wouldn't pitch a fit either way. I was determined not to repeat that
mistake.

The evening turned out nice. Steve slowly came out of his funk, whatever it
was about. We hung out a long time in my room and he played the guitar
while I listened. We chatted and shared our experiences since we'd been
separated and grew somewhat philosophical.

"Have you ever played the game, 'would you rather'?" Steve asked me.

"Yeah, why?"

"Just wondering." Then he asked, "Would you rather be thought of as foolish
but courageous or would you rather be considered wise but cowardly?"

"Can't you be wise and courageous?" I asked.

"No. Well, sometimes, but usually you have to be a little foolish to do
courageous things. It is not wise for a fireman to run into a burning
building to try and save someone," he explained.

"True, but just because someone does something unwise, doesn't necessarily
mean he doesn't know that it's unwise. He just does it anyway because he's
willing to take the risk in order to save a life."

"Okay," Steve agreed. "But what if he knew he had no chance to survive
himself?"

"If he has no chance to save anyone and goes in anyway, then that's just
foolish pride. He just wants to be a martyr. But if he knowingly sacrifices
his life, expecting that his sacrifice will save others, then that is the
highest form of courage to me," I said.

"Why did you do it, Shane?" Steve asked. His voice broke.

"Do what?" I asked.

"Why did you put yourself at such risk to try and find me?"

"I kept looking for you because I love you, and it was just the right thing
to do," I answered.

"I wasn't worth it," he muttered. "It cost that Calvin kid his life and
nearly ruined yours. You and Whittaker almost got yourselves killed by the
river. I'm just an orphaned bastard who grew up so callous that I was
willing to let other kids be exploited the same way I'd been. I didn't want
to risk my chance for an education and a better life by exposing my asshole
old man and his child sex ring. Doesn't that scare you about me?" he asked,
choking out the words.

I slid up next to him and put my arm around him. "That's not true. There
was never one more deserving of being rescued. You're a good man with a
good heart, in spite of a horrible childhood. Do you remember the time you
found me in the barn after my meltdown last Christmas?" I asked.

He shook his head in acknowledgement. "There's something you told me about
the many boys who came and went through the boys home. You said so many of
them couldn't love others because they never learned to love
themselves. That helped me realize that I needed to end my one man
pity-party.  Then you shared that poem about the woods. Hand me my Robert
Frost book," I requested.

	The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
	But I have promises to keep,
	And miles to go before I sleep,
	And miles to go before I sleep.

"You told me that meant we have to go on. We can't just lie down and give
up," I said. "I want to read you another one."

	I had withdrawn in forest, and my song
	Was swallowed up in leaves that blew alway;
	And to the forest edge you came one day
	(This was my dream) and looked and pondered long,
	But did not enter, though the wish was strong:
	You shook your pensive head as who should say,
	I dare not--too far in his footsteps stray--
	He must seek me would he undo the wrong.

	Not far, but near, I stood and saw it all
	Behind low boughs the trees let down outside;
	And the sweet pang it cost me not to call
	And tell you that I saw does still abide.
	But 'tis not true that thus I dwelt aloof,
	For the wood wakes, and you are here for proof.

"What are you saying?" Steve asked.

"Don't you see how it fits us?" I asked. "We were separated and blown about
like leaves in the wind of corruption and deceit. We couldn't even
communicate with each other and every attempt I made was blocked. Now we're
together in sight of each other. You're at the forest edge and I'm hiding
in the trees.  You don't dare risk coming into the woods for fear of being
good enough for me, and I don't dare invite you, for fear of rushing you
into something you're unsure of. But 'tis not true that thus I dwelt aloof,
for the wood wakes, and you are here for proof."

"I'm here," Steve agreed. "But I'm still so unsure of everything. I'd be a
liar to deny it."

"You're too mental. I kind of get why it's hard for you to trust your heart
with what you've lived through.  You have to analyze everything. Here, read
this one," I pointed out another poem by Frost about the heart and the
mind. It basically said that you can't always let the head make your
decisions. Sometimes you have to trust your heart.

"Does it hurt your feelings after all you've done for me and with how
easily you love me, that I struggle still?" Steve asked.

"It hurts. I don't think it hurts my feelings. It's just hard, and
scary. It scares me that something will happen that will drive you from me
or keep us apart. That's not something I want to have to accept and move on
from. From a logical perspective, it makes perfect sense what you've
proposed," I said.

He didn't respond so I went on, "I believe whatever is right will end up
happening. We didn't go through all of this shit for no good reason and
whatever that reason is, it will be for the best. When I was in jail,
facing the big decision on whether to take the plea deal or not, I prayed
to know what to do. I got the definite feeling that I was supposed to learn
something from it all. One of the things that made me take the risk of a
trial was the fear that if I was gone for eight years, I might lose you
forever," I admitted.

"Oh, man. That makes it worse. How can you be so damned sure of things?" he
asked.

"Have you ever prayed?" I asked.

"Not really. I only recently started to accept the possibility of God
existing."

"Try it," I suggested. "Tonight, after everyone else falls asleep. Ask God
if he loves you and if you are worthy of being loved. Then, ask if it's
right for us to be together and see what you feel. Don't even tell me what
answer you get in your heart. No pressure that way. Just trust what comes
to you."

"I'll try." Steve grew ponderous. "Can you ask anything?"

"I think so. Anything you want help with, I guess."

After a few minutes of completely comfortable silence, sitting side by side
and holding hands, Steve suggested we go downstairs and socialize. We ended
up playing poker with Nicolas and Whittaker and a couple of my
uncles. Steve was surprisingly good at it. I guessed he'd played in the
boys home.

The following morning, Steve and I found each other. We spent the day
playing games, eating leftovers, and doing the mandatory chores. We put the
shop back together and Dad, Whittaker and I did what few essential items
needed to get taken care of for the business. In the afternoon, Steve and I
had some quiet time together. We bundled up and went for a walk.

"Did you pray?" I asked.

"Yes. I prayed. After everyone fell asleep, like you suggested. It was
awkward. I just held my palms upward like the preacher guy at the prison
did and spilled my guts."

I smiled. "Interesting way of putting it," I said. "Did you get some
answers?"

"Some. I guess. I just had some thoughts come to mind. I got a bunch of
additional questions, too. I know I have to do something. I still don't
know exactly what I should do," he confided. "It's really complicated."

"That's good though, right?" I asked. "You got some direction."

"I guess," he responded. I could tell he was still deeply troubled. "I feel
like God loves me now. So I guess I have to learn to love myself. So that
part's pretty good. I had such a warm feeling when I asked to know if he
was there and if he loved me. The rest of it was..., complicated."

"That's really, really good." I desperately wanted to pry, but I'd promised
not to. It nearly killed me to change the subject, but I did. "Are you
still planning on trying to get the job at the hospital?"

"Yes. I really want that. I need to have my own job and stop relying on
others so much. This gives me a chance to do that and still stay in town,"
he answered.

"Good."

We stopped at the big oak tree and I shared with Steve the beating I'd
experienced at the hands of the Sheriff. Steve got really angry, but I told
him that I'd forgiven Sheriff Withers and actually felt sorry for him
now. I explained that it was kind of like what he'd told me about his
mother, who'd abandoned him.  We don't know their personal demons or what
was driving them to do what they did. I think it's the same with Sheriff
Withers. I'm sure he'd been abused as a boy somehow because of what he'd
said to me before beating me up. He was genuinely afraid that I was trying
to do to his son what had been done to him.

"My mother did what she thought was best for me. At least, I'd like to
think that," Steve said. "I don't think you can say that same thing about
the Sheriff beating the crap out of you."

"True. I still don't want to hate him for it. Hatred and anger only eats at
me inside. I'm the loser in that deal. I just want to move on from it. In
the end, I'm the victor and he's getting his own reward. It's sad really,
when you think of all he's lost - all because he couldn't be honest with
himself and just sacrifice his own sexual needs for the sake of the family
he created."

"Hmm," Steve pondered. "Interesting thought. Sacrifice isn't easy. In fact,
it sucks."

"No, it's not easy. We always want what we want and giving that up for the
sake of others is hard to do," I agreed. "But making sacrifices is what
proves true character."

After chores on Saturday, we went to Lincoln Park and had a sledding and
tubing party. The girls came and joined us. Whittaker and Shawna rode on a
tube together and hit a bump. They went flying off and Whittaker landed on
top of Shawna practically nose to nose. I thought they might kiss, but they
didn't.  They did start laughing like a couple of grade school kids,
though. It reminded me of the time that happened at Christmastime between
me and Steve. I remember the look in his eye. The first time I recognized a
spark of love for me. The time I thought he might just lean in and kiss
me. I smiled at the memory.

Cheyenne was there with her boy and he immediately sought out my cousins
who were close in age and they all had a great time playing together in the
snow. Steve and I helped them make a snowman and we had a snowball fight
with them. We even piled them all on the toboggan with us and rode down the
hill several times. I was surprised that Steve actually initiated the
interaction with Cheyenne's boy and the cousins. He seemed at ease around
the young boys, in spite of his prior aversion to them. I guess the fear of
being misunderstood about his motives in such a public setting was gone.
Steve held Cheyenne's boy up and let him stick a carrot in the snowman's
face for a nose and then the boy twisted himself into position to give
Steve a huge hug around the neck. Steve clearly enjoyed making the boy
happy. I was hopeful that kind of interaction would be good therapy for
Steve in getting over his past.

At dusk, we lit a fire in the fire pit and cooked up two big cauldrons of
hot chocolate and coffee. Mom broke out a box of homemade cinnamon rolls
and even heaven couldn't be any better than that. I sat in a lawn chair
next to Steve sipping hot chocolate and eating the sweet roll. Some
frosting was smeared on my chin and Steve unabashedly leaned over and
licked it off in front of everyone. No one made any comment at all about
it. It was a completely natural act. It was a night to remember.

As we made our way home, I sat next to Steve in the back seat of the
truck. I slipped my hand into his and we caressed each other's fists with
our thumbs. I took out my phone and sent him a text, "Let's slip off to the
shop tonight after others are asleep and do something wild and crazy."

Steve read it and grinned. Then he gave my hand a squeeze and just shook
his head, no. "Not tonight," he whispered to me. I was disappointed. I
texted again, "Tomorrow after church, then!!!"

He smiled and whispered an exasperated but amused, "Okay, horny toad."

Sunday morning was crazy hectic. Again, it was like a fire drill in the
upstairs bathroom. This time, I ended up being in there while Cousin
Nicolas was there. He had definitely filled out since we jacked off
together. Seeing him naked totally stirred up some memories. Happy memories
of our boyhood escapades in the barn. It made my dick twitch and I was
definitely in the mood for some more private time with Steve. Steve and
Whittaker came in at the same time as I was getting out of the shower, and
seeing them naked really got me going. I had to quickly dry off and wrap
the towel snugly around my waist to avoid exposing an embarrassing boner.

On the way to church, I sent Steve a text to his new phone. We added him to
our family plan.  "Remember what we're doing after church?"

He nodded that he remembered. I smiled. My dick started boning up on me
just thinking about it. It was hard to concentrate on the sermon. The crowd
was very large and after the service we were waiting to file out when
Pastor Nichols pushed through the crowd to reach us. "Steve," Pastor
Nichols said, gripping his arm. "Do you have a few minutes to talk
privately?"

"I guess. Now?" Steve responded.

"Yes, if you can. Shane will you excuse us for a few?" Pastor Nichols
asked.

"Sure. I'll just meet you in the truck with Billy and Jaime," I said in
hopes that would remind him where we were headed instead of going home.

Billy started getting annoyed at how long it was taking. He was as anxious
as I was to get to the motel and have some fun. We listened to the radio
while the two lovebirds in the front seat did some publicly appropriate
smooching. They controlled themselves and avoided any heavy making out.

"It's about time," I said when Steve finally climbed in the back seat with
me. "What took so long?"

Steve didn't give a reason. He never felt the need to give reasons for his
actions and I was still trying to get used to that aspect of his
personality. "Lots to talk about," was all he offered up.

We paid for our hour and found our way to the room. Steve had been silent
and staring out the window all the way over. Once in the motel, I set out
the lube and some washcloths to wipe up with after we finished. "Want to
shower first?" I asked.

"Sure," Steve answered. I was already naked and he was still fumbling
around with his belt. I took over and finished stripping him. I was already
boned just from thinking about his firm dick getting shoved up my twitching
ass. His manhood was still drooping. I'd fix that.

We showered quick, cleaning up all the important spots. It was so nice just
to be able to run my hands over his taut, muscled body. I was anxious to
get back into better shape and vowed to keep up on my exercise routine. We
dried off and made our way to the bed. Steve lay on his back and put his
hands behind his head. I slid up next to him and pressed my firmness
against his hip, slowly sliding against it.

Steve's penis was still showing disinterest. I started to fondle it and he
moaned soft approval. He didn't, however, grow.

"What's up?" I asked. "Is everything okay?"

"Things are fine," he said. He continued to stare intently at the
ceiling. I chose not to pursue it and slid over on top of him, Then, I
kissed and nibbled my way down to his waist. I took his flaccid penis into
my mouth and worked on bringing him to life. Although he swelled some, he
never reached full tumescence. I let him slip free and rolled to his side
again. I stroked a finger across his lips. My excitement dimmed.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It's all right. Will you please tell me what's wrong?" I pleaded.

He sighed heavily and sat up. He pulled his knees up against his chest and
rested his forehead on them. I sat up also and rubbed my hand tenderly over
his back. He was tense and tremulous.

"It's okay, Steve. Whatever it is, we can deal with it. What's upsetting
you?" I asked softly.

"Do you know Cheyenne's little boy?" he asked.

"Yes. What about him. Is he sick or something? Is that what Pastor Nichols
talked to you about?" I guessed.

"No." Steve adjusted his head so that he was leaning on his temple to look
at me. "Do you know what his name is?"

I thought about it. I didn't know. If I'd heard his name, I didn't remember
it. "No," I admitted, "I don't think I ever knew it. Why?" I asked.

"His name is Steven."

"Okay," I thought it was cool that they shared a name, but couldn't
understand why he told me that. I gestured for him to say more and he
furrowed his brow at me. That's when it hit me. The way he furrowed his
brow. I remembered how I'd recognized that exact gesture in Cheyenne's
little boy. It had reminded me of someone and I suddenly, and dismayingly,
understood who.

"Oh," I said. "He's yours."

Steve nodded. He rolled his forehead back towards his knees and began to
tremble. He was crying. I held him tightly against me while he wept.

"Are you all right?" I asked as he sniffled. I handed him the washcloth
that had been intended for something else. He used it to wipe his running
nose. He looked up at me and said, "I'm sorry, Shane. I'm so sorry."

"Sorry for what?" I asked.

"I've made a mess of things. I was just a curious fifteen year old. I
wanted to try it. I just wanted to try it.  I don't know what to do," he
whimpered.

"How did it happen?" I asked.

"We made friends. She was nice to me. My asshole father was using her for
his sex trade too. He was probably doing her on the side as well. The older
boys would make videos with her. I'd sneak out before lockdown to meet up
and talk with her when she was alone in the kitchen cleaning up. We did it
three times together in the storeroom. She said it wasn't her time of the
month and we should be safe. A few months later, she just disappeared. No
one knew why or where she went." Steve heaved a heavy sigh and added, "I
don't know what to do."

"Is that what Pastor Nichols told you earlier? Did he tell you that little
Steven is your son?" I asked.

"No. I already knew that. Cheyenne had already told me. Pastor Nichols
wanted to know what I was going to do about it and gave me some advice."

"What kind of advice?" I asked. I felt a hole in my heart burning wider and
blacker with every word. The ramifications of this revelation were buzzing
around my brain in erratic patterns.

"Just like my mother did for me, Cheyenne refused to abort our son. Arty
forced her to leave the boys home and put her on a bus to Chicago where she
had an aunt. He threatened her not to come back or contact me or he'd have
her prosecuted for rape by having sex with me, a fifteen year old boy. She
was nineteen. She lived with her aunt until Steven was born and then when
he was six months old, the aunt kicked them both out. She lived on welfare
and small jobs to get by. When the news reports about the boys home scandal
broke and your involvement with me came out, she made her way here to find
out what she could. She was no longer afraid of arrest, since Arty was in a
prison hospital and had bigger things to worry about. Now, I have a big
decision to make."

"What decision?" I asked.

"I have to choose."

"Choose what?" I asked. "What is there to choose?"

"I have to choose between my love for you and my responsibility to my
son. I love you, Shane, and I owe you my life. But, I have an obligation to
my son." he whispered.

"Is she insisting that you marry her?" I asked.

"Yes, she is. She can't deny me access to Steven if I don't marry her, but
if I decide to choose my son instead of you, I want to get married. I don't
want little Steven to grow up in a separated family situation," Steve
answered. "If I'm going to be his father and not just his sperm donor, I
want him to live with me and take part in his whole life."

"There is no decision to be made then. You have to be a father to your
son," I said.

"But what about us? I love you, Shane. And you love me," he stammered. "How
is that fair to you?"

I smiled and kissed him. "All I need to know is that you love me. Yes, my
heart is breaking right now, I can't lie about that. But my heart is
swelling too. You have a son. You have a chance to be the kind of father
you always wished for. There's no decision to be made, Steve, and you know
it as well as I do. It's enough for me to know that you love me. I know,
without a doubt, that you really love me if you considered, even for a
minute, to abandon your son in order to be with me." We both fell into each
other's arms and hugged tightly. Tears were shed. His tears were mostly
from relief while mine had more bitterness in them.

"Thank you, Shane. Thank you so very much. I love you. I love you, and I
always will love you," Steve told me as we held each other.

"And I will always love you. You have to promise not to be a stranger. I
want to be godfather or uncle or someone special in your son's life. We
can't be lovers, but we can be friends, I hope. Can we?" I asked. I wasn't
sure how comfortable Cheyenne would be with that, but I desperately hoped
she would allow it.

"We will always be friends," Steve promised.

"Do you love Cheyenne?" I asked a bit sheepishly.

"No. Not yet. But I like her. She's a good enough person. We'll figure out
the love thing. We have to. We have a child." He kissed me and whispered in
my ear, "Would you like one last time together?"

"I would absolutely love one last time, but I wouldn't feel good about
it. I'd rather we left that part of us to the good memories we already
have. You need to dedicate that part of yourself to Cheyenne now and to no
one else. Can I have one last kiss, though?"

Steve didn't answer. He simply pressed his palms to my cheeks and his soft
lips to my lips and kissed me so tenderly and so meaningfully that I cannot
imagine I will ever be able to appreciate another kiss as much as that one
for the rest of my life.

We were startled by the phone ringing. The office was informing us that we
were overtime on the room.  We dressed quickly and hugged one last time
before leaving the room and heading to the truck. Billy and Jaime were
impatiently waiting.

"Geez, you guys. Really?" Billy said as we climbed into the back seat.

"Shut up, Billy," I said firmly. "I don't want to hear it."

"Okay, Mr. Sensitive. Chill," he answered. He turned around and eyed us
both. I'm sure he could tell we'd been crying. He spun back around, put it
in reverse and we drove to Jaime's and then home. Steve and I held hands
for the duration of the ride. No one spoke.

When we got home, Mom asked me to get the other boys together and go clean
out the barn. The relatives had all left for home, so we had our bedrooms
back. We all worked together on it. We talked amongst ourselves about the
great holiday weekend it had been. Steve and I chimed in here and there,
but we were mostly distracted with our own thoughts.

"Are you two okay?" Whittaker asked.

Billy stopped what he was doing and waited to hear what we answered. I
looked over at Steve and gave him a little smile. "Yeah, we're better than
okay. We're great," I said plainly. "Steve has some exciting news to share
with everyone."

He looked at me and I nodded. "Well," he began. He folded his arms across
his chest and continued, "I wasn't planning on telling everyone just yet,
but I found out recently that I have a son. I'm the father to Cheyenne's
little boy." There was a long period of stunned silence and then awkward
glances towards me.

I broke the ice, "Isn't that awesome? I'm so happy for him. He'll make the
best father ever, don't you all think?"

With that, everyone breathed a relieved sigh and then broke into
congratulatory slaps on the back and high fives. Everyone heartily agreed
that Steve would make a fantastic dad and Steve was smiling. I knew he
appreciated my gesture. I was happy for him - almost as happy for him as I
was sad for myself. I loved him too much to be a martyr. So, I just put on
a happy face and joined in the celebration.

***###***

I hope you aren't too sad about this last turn of events. It was hard for
me to write it but it has always been the intended story line. Remember the
words of peace that came to Shane earlier, "Trust." Trust in me as well and
read on to see how it all ends up.

Hans
h.schrieber@hushmail.com