The 1970s saw more changes at the Charterhouse. In 1972 one of the alumni, that is an Ancestor, went to visit the Charterhouse with his entire family, including his grandchildren. He was there in an official capacity, as he was the under-secretary of Education in the new government. The man was fifty-two years old; he was one of the first orphans received in the Charterhouse. He had six children and the older two were married and already gave him five grandchildren, Together with his third son, a twenty-two year old handsome young man with a shy expression, there was also his boyfriend, a youth of twenty-five.
When this third son introduced his boyfriend to Serge, he said, "I have been really lucky, believe me, to have such an open-minded and understanding father. And I know that I owe this luck mainly to the fact that my father was reared in your splendid institution, here at the Charterhouse. Therefore both I and my boyfriend were really curious to be at last able to come to see it. Dad talks about Montsabot so much..."
"We always did our best for our boys and are trying to go on doing it. Every time we can see the result of our efforts, we not only are glad, proud, but this also abundantly pays us back for all the difficulties we had to overcome" Serge answered.
The under-secretary wanted to visit the family-house where he grew up, the B, and he stopped for a long time to visit with all the boys, while his family was touring the other parts of the Charterhouse.
"Monsieur, where did you sleep?" one of the children asked him.
"Upstairs. I noticed it has changed a little from when I lived here, at first we all slept together in one big room. But now it is much better, I think."
Another of the kids asked him, "Can you please show me your picture in our family album?"
The man stood up, went to check the several portraits hanging on the living room wall and pointed at one of them, "Here it is... do you see, there is my name under it... this was me when I was your age..."
"Hey, listen..." one of the children started to say.
The family-head reprimanded him, "This is not the way to address an adult man, you have to say - sorry sir."
The man smiled, "But even though I am an adult man, you are my only original family... What did you want to ask me, my little one?"
"Sorry, sir," restarted the child, correcting himself, "when you had to go away from here because you were too old, did you find somebody at once, out there, with which to make love? And was he a boy or a girl, or both of them?"
The family-head, intervened again, "It is not respectful asking such questions, Didier!"
"Ah, your name is Didier like mine! But amongst members of the same family, no question is bad. Of course it is not so with strangers, but I am one of your Ancestors, therefore... So, Didier, when I left the Charterhouse, I wanted to see how it was doing it with girls, as I already knew how it was with boys. And I saw that for me it was better with girls, therefore I chose one who liked me and we married."
Another of the boys asked, "So, are girls better than boys?"
"No, it depends. For some of us girls are better, for others boys are better. But the most important thing is to choose the person you feel love for and who loves you. Didn't they teach you this?"
"Yes, they did, exactly as you say, Monsieur Didier." the boy answered.
Another of the boys asked him, "Do you miss our family-house?"
"I miss it a little bit, yes. I spent very beautiful years here. You see, all we who pass here in the Charterhouse are, after all, very lucky, because we all have three families - the one where we were born, this one that brings us up, and then the one we can make once out of here."
"But I would still rather have my Mum and my Dad..." one of the boys commented with a really serious expression.
"Of course, it's natural. But how many boys who don't have their dads and mums any more, also don't have a beautiful family as this one where you are living now? This is why I said that all of us, after all, have been lucky, in our misfortune."
When the under-secretary left the Charterhouse, he promised Serge that he would make sure that the Ministry raised the allowances for the institution's boys at least a little, and also to send a non-recurring allowance to modernize the laboratories.
That same year Serge, who was sixty-two, decided to leave his role of dean, and asked the counsel of the teachers' representatives, of the personnel, and of the boys, to elect a new dean. Each component proposed three names of people who could accept that charge, then the names were voted on. At the first ballot the teacher of sciences, Marc Duchesne, thirty two years old, got seventy per cent of the votes.
The new dean asked Serge to stay in the Charterhouse with the title of dean-emeritus. Serge accepted but proposed to become, so to say, a kind of "foreign affairs minister" for the Charterhouse; that is to start combing through France looking for funding and donations. His proposal was accepted at once, so Serge started to program his journeys.
In 1974 they celebrated the fiftieth anniversary of the Charterhouse. For that occasion, besides having all the facades cleaned and the long fencing surrounding the estate remade, it was decided that at the crossing of the two naves of the former church they built a radial set of arches so that they could separate the dome with a floor, and use it like a festivity hall; therefore were put again in use the two winding stairs that were in two of the pillars of the cross leading to the dodecagonal dome and to the lantern crowning it and from which there was a splendid panorama, and to place a gilded sphere at the place of the cross that crowned the lantern.
Also the Saint Bruno chapel was thoroughly restored and transformed into the Charterhouse "Memories Museum". Moreover down the valley, just beyond the two guard houses and entrance arch and gate that were the Charterhouse's entrance, a wide parking area was built, digging it into the rock on which the Charterhouse complex was standing.
Last thing they did to celebrate the fiftieth year was a famous fashion designer of Paris, Christian de Joinville, the lover of one of the Ancestors, designed new uniforms for the boys and personnel in a modern style, always using the white and light blue that were the distinctive colours of the Charterhouse - the kepi was abandoned, the tight and short jacket was replaced by a normal soft jacket and a waistcoat of the same cloth and light blue colour, a white shirt with blue tie. Also the trousers had a looser cut and cuffs for the boys older than fifteen, and long at the knee for those up to fourteen.
Not everybody was happy with this change of uniforms, mainly amongst the Ancestors, but the council approved it, on the new dean's suggestion, and thus so it was done.
For the fiftieth anniversary celebrations, to avoid a too massive flow of people, but at the same time to allow everybody to attend, it was decided to repeat the celebrations on four dates with a limited number of invited.
The year after the celebrations for the fiftieth anniversary, one of the Ancestors came to the Charterhouse, announced by a telephone call. It was the president of the juvenile tribunal of Lyon, Judge Raimond Chenardin, on a private visit.
After a chat with Marc, remembering Roland that he well knew, and Serge who was at that time absent, and telling about a thousand small anecdotes, and after thanking them for the punctual sending of the Charterhouse magazine, the man stated the reason why he made that long travel.
"Dean Marc, I know that what I am about to ask you is outside of the Charterhouse rules, and I also know how much you are rightly not willing to make exceptions, not to create precedents. But the Charterhouse is my last hope..."
"Tell me, Judge..."
"As you can well guess, my duty as a juvenile judge is not only a delicate task, but puts me everyday in contact with real dramas. Now, I am treating a case I've had to treat already several times. It concerns a fourteen year old boy... I have some of his pictures... here they are..."
Marc took them and started to look at them while the judge was resuming talking.
"This kid's name is Raphael Curtin. He is the older child of a woman working at the Draperies du Vieux Lyon. His father was killed in a brawl among drunk people when Raphael was just two years old. When he was eight, his mother married again with a widowed man who already had a sixteen year old son. When Raphael was thirteen, he ran away from home because of squabbles with his stepfather. He lived on the streets for a couple of months, until he was caught stealing in an apartment. When he saw he was caught, he set fire to the apartment. He was put in a juvenile prison, then three months ago he ran away, but the police found him again, while he was prostituting himself.
"He was brought back again to the prison... and the boy told me that if I put him in there again, he would kill himself... In my opinion it wasn't an empty threat... Now, each of these boys are to me an aching pain in my heart, I wish I could do something more for them, but it is not always so easy and I have to apply the law anyway, my hands are tied. But if the boy killed himself... I would blame myself for his death for the rest of my life. When I finally was able to have him tell me why he wanted to resort to such an extreme gesture... he told me that his companions in the prison know that he is 'sick' as he likes boys and not girls, therefore they subject him to degrading practices..."
"Poor boy..." Marc murmured.
"Yes, a poor boy indeed. I'm afraid there is much more to his story, but couldn't succeed in having him tell me more than this... So, then, I thought... I have the authority to put him on probation in a foster family or in an institution... and if you could receive him here with you... with the atmosphere he would find here, with the education you will give him, you could possibly succeed to... to make a normal boy of him again. I know that all the boys you accept here are orphans of both parents, and legally he is not, although in fact he is, can you understand me? I don't want, I cannot send the boy to the juvenile prison again. I don't want one day to find his file on my desk stamped 'deceased by suicide'."
Marc nodded. "Yes, I can fully understand you, Judge Chenardin... And totally agree with you that we should possibly make an exception to our rules. But as you certainly know, the dean here doesn't make decisions, but he just ratifies what the representative council votes. Even though afterwards the legal responsibility is mine, as I have to sign the official documents, in fact the law doesn't recognise the validity of our college deliberations, as minors are part of it... But our internal laws impose upon me not to assume autonomous decisions."
"But you certainly can bring to bear your opinion, I think. The dean has anyway a great influence in the Charterhouse, a totally peculiar influence..."
"Yes, that is right, and I can assure you that I will use all my influence... even though I have been in my office just for one year. Anyway it would be helpful to wait for Serge's return, and I am sure he would totally agree, and even though he cannot vote any more, he would use all his great influence, so much bigger than mine. But I'm afraid he won't be back for a month... Do we have that much time?"
"I'm afraid we don't... for the moment the kid is in an isolation cell of the tribunal, but I can't keep him there for long, the law doesn't allow me. And anyway I don't think that the isolation can do him any good... This is anyway the reason I came in person, exactly not to waste time..."
"All right, judge, I will busy myself immediately and will give you an answer as soon as possible. Give me your personal telephone number, please. I will have the bell rung at once to summon the council."
"If your decision is positive, as I hope, could you come and fetch him at once? I could have him brought here by a police van, but I would prefer to avoid it, if possible."
"Certainly yes, I will come in person, with one of the teachers and two of the boys."
"A very good idea. Thank you. I beg you, do all you can. I leave you the kid's pictures... they might be of use, don't you think?"
"Yes... although he has this bad boy expression... they give a great feeling of tenderness."
While the judge was leaving the Charterhouse, the first members of the representative council were gathering in the Abbott's Tower. When all were there, Marc exposed to them the reason for that extraordinary meeting. Like each time before, the matter was involving an exception to their rules; as Marc imagined, the discussion was rather heated. Marc was agreeably surprised seeing that all the boys' representatives, none excluded, were for accepting the kid. The most heated no's weren't so much against making an exception to the rules, but for the worry that an element like Raphael Curtin could bring problems into the life of a family-house.
So one of the boys' representatives proposed to immediately have meetings in all the family-houses, to verify how many of the boys felt ready to accept Raphael amongst them. Marc at once gave his authorisation. That same evening all the family-heads brought to Marc the result of their family's discussions and vote - of twenty-six houses, twenty-one gave a favourable answer. Therefore the college voted the admission of Raphael. At that point it was just left to decide in which of the family-houses to insert him.
Marc gathered the twenty-one family-heads and discussed the problem with them. First of all he checked in how many houses there already was a boy of fourteen - seven of them didn't have one. Amongst these seven, they discussed which family-head was more suitable for facing the problem of the insertion of such a difficult boy as Raphael and everybody agreed that the best one was Luc of the Hand. As this was settled, in spite of the fact that it was ten in the evening, Marc called the judge to tell him that the following day, in the afternoon, they would go and fetch Raphael Curtin. The judge assured them he would enact a decree of probation, entrusting the boy to the Charterhouse the following morning, so that they would find it ready on their arrival.
The following morning early, Marc the dean, Philippe the librarian, Luc the family-head who was eighteen, and Albert, a seventeen year old boy also of the Hand, took a car and went to Lyon. When they reached the juvenile tribunal, not yet twenty-four hours had elapsed since the visit of the judge to the Charterhouse.
The judge received the four in his office in the tribunal, gave Mark the probation documents and made him sign some papers, then had Raphael Curtin brought to his office.
"Have a seat, Raphael. I want to introduce you to Luc, Albert, Marc and Philippe. All four are members of Montsabot Charterhouse, where I decided to send you..."
"Are they priests?" Raphael asked in a belligerent tone, throwing them a black glance.
The judge smiled, "No, it is a kind of boarding school, or to better say a boys' town."
"A prison." the boy said, even more diffident.
"Anything but a prison, I can promise you!" the judge answered.
"And what the fucking shit is a boy's town? Where is the snag?" Raphael, all but persuaded, asked.
"May I try to explain to him in a few words, judge?" Luc then asked.
"Hi, my name is Luc. We are a kind of family, where we boys live according to rules we made, with the help of some adults who advise and lead us to help us to grow healthy, educated and free..."
"You all are dressed the same, like soldiers..." Raphael cantankerously remarked.
"Of course, to express that we are all peers, in our place, we all have the same rights and the same duties." Albert then explained him.
"And you all are dad's darlings, I bet..." the kid said in a sarcastic tone.
"None of us has his Dad any more... and adults like Marc, that is he, and Philippe, that is he, are to us like older brothers..." Luc explained.
"Sheh! Older brothers! The worst pain in the arse that can exist..." Raphael exclaimed with a grimace.
"They can at times seem a pain in the arse... but they really care for us..." Albert said with a small smile.
"And... these rules you were talking about before? These duties? What bullshit are they?"
"Explaining to you everything now would take too much time," Philippe said, "But if you come with us to the Charterhouse, you will gradually get to know and to learn them. You will be welcomed in Luc's family, where Albert is also, and other boys of different ages..."
"Family? What's that, is Luc the father and Albert the mother? Do they fuck together?" Raphael asked with sarcasm.
"Luc and I? Yes, at times we two have a nice fuck together, but I'm not the Mum, and Luc is the family-head, not the Dad..." quietly Albert answered.
Raphael this time was speechless, looked at them amazed. Then he gave an amused sneer, "Sheh! You are taking the piss out of me! If it was real, you wouldn't have said it in front of the Judge!"
Nobody answered but everybody smiled.
Then Raphael said, "As I thought, you are taking the piss out of me. But what if I didn't want to go with them?" he then asked the Judge.
"I would be forced to send you back to the juvenile prison... The choice is up to you, Raphael, either with them or..."
"All right, I'll go with them... then we will see. But don't fool yourselves, I ran away from the prison once, I will manage to run away from your... boarding school or what the fucking shit it is, as easily as I want!"
"Hey, Luc, why do you give everybody that fucking fake money but not to me?" Raphael asked with a belligerent tone. "Don't I also have the right to get it?"
Luc smiled, craftily, "A duty corresponds to any right. If you do your duties, you will get your share like everybody else, according to the rules."
"Fuck your rules! What a shit kind of freedom is this, if one HAS to do this and that? You get that money to give it to us, not to keep it for yourself."
"And in fact I don't keep it, it is just blocked in our bank..."
"Sheh! And what the fucking hell should I do to get it, give you my arse?"
"No, you just have to behave as we all do. Now leave me in peace, I'm busy."
Later, while Antoine was cooking, said, "Raphael and Michel, today it's up to you to set the table."
"I don't feel like it!" Raphael said and went out of the house.
"Michel, would you please do it alone?" Antoine asked him with a smile.
"Yes, of course. But why does Raphael behave so?"
"Because he still doesn't understand... too many things. But he will, he will you will see. We have just to be patient."
When the little house bell rang to call the boys to the table, Luc shut the external door. Soon Raphael knocked.
"Hey, let me in, I'm hungry!"
"I'm sorry, but no food for you!" Luc answered him from behind the door.
"What fucking shit is this novelty?" the boy yelled, angry.
"Who doesn't work, doesn't eat. You didn't want to set the table, and we don't want to give you food. End of the conversation!"
"Go fuck yourself!" Raphael yelled and went away.
He loitered in the Charterhouse area, seething.
Another day, during his free time, when Raphael went out of the bedroom of his age group, he heard behind another door unmistakable noises. He eavesdropped and smiled, amused. He opened the door - two of the boys of his age were doing a sixty-nine, lying naked on a bed.
"Hey, boys, what a bout a nice threesome?" Raphael merrily asked, drawing nearer and starting to unbutton his uniform.
"Nobody taught you to knock?" one of the boys, upset, asked him.
"No. And anyway I feel horny. Who of you two wants to take it in the arse, while you go on in your blow job?"
"None of us, let us in peace. Nobody invited you." the other boy said, annoyed.
They both, naked as they were, got off the bed and went towards him with a menacing expression. Raphael judged that in a fight, he would get the lower hand, therefore thought better to withdraw.
"Go on fucking, you bastards... and may the jizm go the wrong way!" he shouted while going away.
Raphael was feeling a big need to have sex, but everybody seemed to avoid him, nobody wanted to have sex with him. And the boy was fed up with masturbating alone.
In the afternoon, while he was loitering around the H house, that is his house, he saw Dominique, the twelve year old boy that slept in his same room, go back to the house.
"Hey, Domi, where are you going?"
"To have a nice shower, I'm all drenched in sweat..." the boy answered in a merry tone and went inside.
Raphael knew that in that moment there was nobody else in the house, besides Marcel who that day was on duty to care for the babies, but they were on the first floor. Silently, he too went in. He heard that the water was already pelting down in the shower room. He undressed in the living area, leaving all his clothes in an untidy heap on the floor, walked through the short corridor and went into the shower room. Dominique was soaping his body, turned towards the wall and didn't hear him enter. Raphael went at his back, already aroused, embraced him and pushed his hard-on between his small buttocks. The boy turned around, surprised.
"Hey, Raphael, let me in peace!" he said, rather annoyed.
"No, I will now fuck your nice little arse... come on, you'll see, you'll enjoy it..."
"I told you to leave me in peace." the kid said trying to escape him.
They both fell on the floor. Raphael was stronger than the kid, and laughing amused and even more aroused, in spite that their bodies were slippery with the soap, gradually managed to immobilize him and to put him in the right position.
"No, Raphael, no!" the kid screamed.
"Yes, instead... yes... You let the others fuck you, don't you? So, why not me? I'm skilled in using my cock, you will see..."
"Let me go... no!" Dominique screamed again.
But Raphael managed, facilitated by the soap that was in the arse furrow of the kid, to push his member inside him, emitting a grunt of pleasure.
"Ha, finally a good fuck!" Raphael said starting to vigorously hammer into his companion, keeping him still with his arms to not let him escape.
"Stop it... no, stop it! You cannot..."
"Of course I can! I'm doing it!" the boy sneered going on to hammer inside him like a madman.
But suddenly he felt he was violently pulled back by the hair and the pain was so sharp he had to let go his hold on Dominique, and was pulled away from him. Luc, Albert and Rhémy were there and looked at him with an angry expression.
"You, Rhémy, give a hand to Dominique. You, Albert, help me take Raphael up to his room." Luc curtly ordered.
They dried him haphazardly and in spite he tried to wriggle away with all his means, the two adult boys managed to take Raphael, still naked, to Albert's room.
"Albert, go and call Jean, and while I keep him still, he will fuck Raphael's arse until he gets some common sense!" Luc ordered.
"In that case I'm afraid he will have to fuck him till Doomsday..." Albert laughed while going out.
"Hey, you cannot do that to me!" the boy protested trying to wriggle free, but Luc's hold didn't leave him any escape.
"I decided that all you do, you will get, Raphael. You should already have understood it, if you were a clever boy. ALL you do you will receive, be it good or bad. Enough with games. Dominique asked you to stop. Here nobody has sex against the will of the other, you should know that. YOU did it, therefore now YOU will get it. Full stop, next line."
Raphael stopped wriggling and looked at Jean, the family-head of the Dice who meanwhile came in with Albert, and who was starting to undress. "And what makes you think it would be a punishment? I could possibly love being fucked as much as to fuck, can't I?" the boy said in a challenging tone.
But as he saw Jean's member, although still soft, he grew pale, "But he's hung like a horse! He will tear my arse apart, he will make me bleed... You can't do this to me!"
"But as Jean wants to fuck your arse, why should he not do it?"
"I don't want it!" Raphael screamed in a tone half between fear and pleading.
"Dominique also didn't want it, but you forced him only because YOU wanted it and are stronger than him. Well now WE are stronger than you. What you do inside here, you will get."
"Gosh, no... Please Jean, don't fuck me... If you want, I will give you head, but..."
"But I want to shove it all inside your nice small arse..." Jean answered with a smile, while his member was powerfully and menacingly rising, pointing towards the boy.
Raphael looked at it terrorized, like a little bird looks at the serpent rising in front of him, "No, Luc, no... please... Please, Luc... No..."
Luc forced him into position and spread his small buttocks. Jean drew nearer and started to brush his hard member in the furrow, on the small hole.
Now Raphael was sobbing, "No, Luc... Jean, please... I will do anything you want, but... no, please... Please... Luc! I swear, I will do anything you want... I'll obey... I'll behave... No, please... please..."
The boy was terrorized and shaken by sobs. Luc made sign with his eyes to Jean to go away. Jean smiled, tidied his clothes and went out. Raphael didn't even notice it, he was going on to sob and pray and promise, like in a litany. Luc made him straighten up and looked in his eyes.
"Raphael, for this time... but just for this time... but you have to seriously apply yourself. You can't go on as you have been, doing anything you like when the others in the house or in the Charterhouse loses because of your behaviour. We made our fucking rules, as you call them, to help each other to behave in a proper way. We are a family - if we don't help each other, if we don't have a mutual respect, all is useless. Can you understand that?"
Raphael nodded, serious. Luc then embraced him, almost cuddling him, and caressed his still wet and ruffled hair.
"Raphael, we love you, you are really a brother to us... Why don't you love us, why won't you be our brother?" Luc gently asked him.
Albert was sitting on a chair and looked at them, asking himself if Raphael this time really got the lesson.
"I... nobody ever respected me... nobody ever loved me... never... and even less my brother... I... I was just nine years old and my step-brother, who was sixteen, one night we were alone at home, took me and shoved it in my arse, even though I didn't want... He fucked me... three times just that first night. And told me that if I spoke about it, he would slit my throat... And so... and so every night, he first made me give him head, then banged it in my arse... Every night... I resigned myself, I even got used to it, it didn't even hurt and I started to quite love it... For three years... Then one night my stepfather caught us. And Jules, my stepbrother, told him I loved giving head and taking it in my arse... because I am a faggot...
"So my stepfather said he wanted to try it too and, while his son was watching, he too fucked me in the arse, then Jules shoved it in my mouth and both of them laughed... Then Jules told his father that I was nothing but a whore, and his father answered him that at least whores bring home money... And my stepfather said I too could earn some money... and started to sell me to people that he and Jules found... they brought them home and I... I had to do all they asked me or else it was lashes of the belt... and they got the money...
"I then went to tell my mother, and she told me I was a liar and beat me... but she could see those men who shut themselves in my bedroom with me, that gave my stepfather money to fuck me... Then I decided to go to the police to report them. The policeman asked me what I wanted to report. I was about to tell him, when one of his colleagues came into the office and said he knew me well and says to his colleague to let him take care of me - I then recognized him, he was one of the men who came to our home to fuck me. He brought me into another room and asked me what I wanted to report... I understood I was lost and said - nothing. He then, there in the police station, opened his trousers and ordered me to give him head and to swallow everything... then sent me away telling me that I would be in serious trouble if I tried again... and told his colleague that I just wanted to report that somebody stole my bicycle...
"So I ran away from home... but I was hungry, it was cold, I didn't know what to do... So I thought that after all I could find men who wanted to fuck me, but at least they would give the money to me... and it was not at all difficult to find such men... And after all I even enjoyed doing it with some of them... But one day a man took me to his home... and after having fucked me how and as much as he liked, wanted to throw me out of his home without paying me... I lost my temper and... and I went back that night and set fire to his home... They said I went there to steal... I told them the truth, but nobody believed me...
"So I was put in the juvenile... and I don't know who, spread the word I was a hustler... so they took me and every other boy could fuck me, even those younger than me... They fucked me in the showers, in the loo, during the night in the dorm... and if I tried to say no, they thrashed and beat me, and thrashed me... and the wardens pretended not to see... I ran away from there also, once when the boy-scouts came to make us play games... And I resumed hustling, because I didn't know what else I could do to have my meals... Until I was caught again..."
Raphael told all this sobbing, while Luc caressed him and kept him tightly embraced with tenderness.
Albert was like dazed, and was looking at him with eyes filled with pity, "Why didn't you tell everything to the judge, Raphael?" he then asked.
"He would not have believed me... or he would have pretended not to believe me, like my mother and all the others did. They don't give a shit for a boy like me."
"Raphael... here with us it is different, aren't you aware?" Luc asked him gently, caressing his cheek.
"But also here nobody wants me, everybody avoids me... nobody wants to have sex with me... What a fucking shit of a world is this?"
"Raphael, as I told you, here what you give you get, what you sow you reap... If you give respect, you get respect, if you give love, you get love... but if you give violence... you are refused..."
"Love? Respect? What do they mean? I don't know them..."
"You can... try. Stop thinking only about yourself and about all the injustice you met. Stop thinking of the ill that was done to you and instead of doing ill yourself... try to help the others, to respect them, to love them and you will see that, at least here with us, you will get help, respect..." Luc said.
"Raphael, but do you like making love with another boy, or else, after all they did to you..." then Albert asked.
"Of course I like it. I never feel horny for a woman, a girl, not at all... But I'm fed with beating it all alone... But here nobody wants to do it with me, they push me away..."
Albert then made a gesture to Luc who understood. He left Raphael on the bed and left Albert's room. Albert went to sit on the edge of his bed, near Raphael.
"I would like very much making love with you, you are a handsome boy, and you are exactly my type... Would you do it with me?"
"You want to fuck me?"
"No, but if you too like me... I would like making love with you... If and when you feel like... Don't you like me?"
"Yes, you are well built..." Raphael said, still shaken by some sobs, looking up at him from below.
"So, then, why don't you undress me? And then... I am ready to do with you all you ask me to do..."
"All I ask you to do? But you are older than me..."
"And what of that? Here at our place, you see, the older doesn't ever have to prevail on the younger one, he must never use him for his own convenience... But the older should protect the younger... and help him... and be available to him... Therefore, if you like me and if you desire it, I'm here, for you. And if you don't feel like it now... I will be here for you some other time. And if you respect and try to love the others, the others will also respect and love you."
Raphael sat up and, shyly, asked, "Do you feel like French kissing me, now?"
Albert smiled at him, gently took his face between his hands and French kissed him. While they were going on kissing, Raphael started to undress Albert. In a short while they both were naked, lying on Albert's bed, touching, caressing, and teasing each other, and gradually started to make love.
Raphael didn't change in only one day, but gradually the wounds in his soul healed up and the boy totally changed his behaviour. At eighteen he became a wonderful family-head - he was a carefree, merry, at times mischievous boy, but he was appreciated, admired, respected by everybody and above all... he was loved.