Date: Fri, 19 May 2017 22:30:37 -0500 From: Eric Trager Subject: It Is What It Is: Chapter 44 Please don't forget to donate to Nifty if you enjoy reading the stories! Email feedback can be sent to trager2275@gmail.com. © 2015 by Eric Trager. Yahoo group: https://groups.yahoo.com/IIWII NOTE: This chapter skips ahead roughly six months in time from Chapter 43. CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR JUNE 2015 The Winter and Spring months flew by for the boys. They'd had their good times over the Winter. At the trip to the Dickson cabin, all six who went swore themselves to secrecy, pledging that what happened there would forever stay there isolated only in their own memories. There were a few ski trips thrown in as well, and all except for Tim, already a golfer, busied themselves with indoor golf lessons at the Country Club. As usual, when a new athletic opportunity presented itself, Brett proved a quick study. So did Andy, with the curiosity being for the other two that Sean seemed to struggle here and there in his attempts to master the game which brought no end of teasing from Tim. The star, though, was John. He was a natural at golf, or at least the lessons. Proof would come when the course opened in late Spring. Andy's Leukemia had responded to treatment. It was said by the Doctors to be in a state of remission. His blood counts returned to being well within normal, the chemotherapy drugs not taking an undue toll on him and he'd made good his weight loss and then some, still standing 5'11 ½ inches but now sporting a taut 170-pound body that he'd exercised over the Winter and into the Spring. Despite being two inches shorter than Sean and twenty pounds lighter, the two cut a dashing pair at school events, enough so that they were unofficially crowned as one of their class' "Power Couples." Andy thought that to be ridiculous, as did Sean, but they went with the flow as long as not too many demands were made of them to join in things they found to be juvenile and artificial. There almost happened the legal battle for custody of Andy between Andy and Joe on one side, and Andy's Uncle Dean on the other. Although celebrating his birthday on December 6th, it was only Andy's seventeenth birthday and therefore he was still a minor. A Court date was set, but then Dean suddenly withdrew without explanation to the other parties. One knew why, though, and that was Joe Wyman. As Joe promised Andy months before, Charlie Ditmar's people had indeed prepared a dossier on Dean. Uncovered were a few rather interesting irregularities in some of his business practices involving elaborate skirting of Federal and Texas tax laws as well as dealings in Chinese gray-market merchandise. Enough detail was gathered for Joe to feel comfortable making a quick one-day round trip to Houston, showing up unannounced at Dean's office, and getting a meeting. All Joe would say is that he had information, dropping only enough tidbits to show he wasn't bluffing, and letting Dean know that it was information one could only regard as unfortunate should it end up in the hands of "certain people." Joe made a point of stating the obvious, "Dean, you're not an idiot. You know what it'll take to make me forget this shit and never bother you again... Or you can come to Wisconsin and depending on how things go it could end up in front of the Judge. It's your call..." Dean's lawsuit was dropped two days later. Joe never told the boys he made that trip. Simultaneously, plans were in the final stages for Brett, Tim, Danny and Jim Nolan's weddings. The plans had to be changed somewhat as there had been a freak electrical fire at Saint John Vianney doing damage that would take a few months to repair. At Father Taylor's behest, the Bishop of Madison interceded and a new venue was found, the Nativity of Mary Church, known by locals simply as Saint Mary's. Saint Mary's was by a wide margin the richest Catholic Parish in Janesville, and it showed. The Church building was far older and grander than Saint John Vianney, built at the turn of the twentieth century, atop the highest hill in the city, in High Victorian Gothic style with an interior of soaring scissor arches and vaulted ceilings rivaling any Cathedral. In fact, the Church had been purpose-built to be a Cathedral but never was as when the Archdiocese of Milwaukee was subdivided the new Diocese was headquartered at Madison, not Janesville. While not the Church of Tim's choice, he'd been there a few times for Mass and had to admit that as a venue for a Catholic High Mass, Saint Mary's was a hard act to top. Plans were also underway for the graduation of the Craig High School Class of 2015. As everyone expected, Brett was to be the Class Valedictorian. Herb Dowling went out of his way to let his son know how proud he was of the year he just had. He apologized for his poor handling of the relationship between Tim and Brett in the beginning, and admitted that it was his own father who had to set him straight. Brett let his dad know that it was all water under the bridge and didn't matter anymore. Tim, as also expected, toted up the second highest marks in the class and would be Salutatorian, delivering the Salutatory Address opening the graduation ceremony. Brett and Tim both worked on something that was short, snappy and unlikely to land Tim tongue-tied in the middle of it. "Just memorize it," Brett said. "Practice it in front of a mirror as many times as you have to. If anything doesn't sound right, or sounds clumsy when you read it out loud, just change it so that it sounds like normal speech." "Nobody REALLY wants to hear from you and me anyway. It's all bullshit..." Brett went on. "Everyone just wants to graduate and get the hell out of there. Besides, with 672 in our class, we can't be taking up time. It's gonna take way more than an hour for everyone to get their diplomas... I've already timed my Valedictory address. I have to go last, so I made it short. Two minutes. That's it. And it's not corny, either. That would be the absolute worst..." "I'll be fine," Tim said. "hard to believe this is it, hey?" "It was always gonna happen, Sweetheart. I'm just glad it happened with you. I mean with me and you..." "It'll always be me and you...." Tim replied, touching Brett softly. Amid all going on with the others, Sean and John both found their ways forward as well. Sometime after Christmas, Sean's balance problems reappeared and worsened. Further examination revealed that the damage from his concussions hadn't fully healed as it should have and was more extensive than originally thought. Put on a regimen of physical therapy he made progress, slow at times, but progress nonetheless. He thought that might be a reason why he was having difficulty with the golf lessons, but Doctor Schroeder assured him that a sport like golf involving fine muscle control and having to put one's body in somewhat unnatural positions in order to perform well could only be a good thing to do. For his part, Sean battled through as he always did, determined to conquer what for him was a first: a physical disability. He recalled his discussion with Coach Slater in the Fall about not playing next year and as much as it bothered him, he had to admit in the end that it was the right decision. How he loved the game, priding himself as being a `thinking-man's player' and a leader, but he knew shortly he would be presented with two little bundles who would depend on him for many years to come. He would simply do the best he could in the next year as a Coach. In addition, not only had Sean made a successful renovation of Brad's house on South Jackson Street notwithstanding some moderately annoying interference from the City, jealous as they always were to enforce rules in a so-called Historic District, the renovation was beautifully done and earned him a feature article in The Janesville Gazette, returning the old home to its original look and feel. He gained experience dealing with government bureaucracy having had to fight battles over the City's insistence that he use wood siding in the style of the day with Sean winning the battle allowing him to use a superior engineered product that would never require painting and would never rot. He ran into the same thing when the City initially balked at Sean's choice of a metal roofing system and Sean winning again when he was able to prove that metal roofs were common in those days and the systems currently available carried lifetime warranties. Sean's argument to the City was always the same: he was after quality, buttering them up by adding, "within your guidelines, of course..." The result proved so well done that three other homeowners from the block approached Sean asking if he'd be interested to purchase their homes, and a fourth asking if he could pay them to do a similar renovation. Sean agreed meaning that he now had a small inventory of property to work on, and with Andy's construction knowledge he was learning fast in terms of planning accurately for project time and costs, as well as developing project systems. In addition, Sean was gaining knowledge of finance. Brad elected, with some behind the scenes convincing and a sweetener from Ginny, to sell Sean the house outright, continuing to rent the apartment at Joe's Main Street building that he moved into after the sale of his house. When the renovation was done Sean as the current owner put the property up for sale. Not finding any Buyers wishing to live in a rougher neighborhood only barely just starting to make a comeback and who had cash, or qualified for a normal bank loan, Sean found a Buyer and financed the sale himself. Not only would that guarantee him a stream of income with interest, but it brought into play gaining experience with tax ramifications, the knowledge of which was also important. John and Kathleen were still a couple, John settling in more and more to his new life. He did as he said he would do and tried out for the Wrestling Team after the Football season was over. He made the Jayvee team at his 112-pound weight class and while not the star of the team managed to win more matches than he lost. The Coaches rated him a solid and reliable, if not stellar, performer and he gained the reputation among his team mates as a no-nonsense competitor and a guy who always gave his best effort. His team mates kidded him that he was the only one on the team who could get the guys from the Championship Varsity Football team to show up for Jayvee wrestling events. It won him a wider circle of friends, too, something he thought he sorely needed instead of being thought of behind his back merely as "that new Mexican kid, the one that dates Kathleen Kennedy." John followed through on filling his lawn care business book from Ginny's contacts, and unsurprisingly, as Ginny remained President Emeritus of the Janesville Country Club, he secured the contract for their lawns. Sean advised John he'd need to hire some help as it was a very full book of business. It occurred immediately to John to ask Brad if he'd be interested, which he was as John was willing to pay more than Family Dollar. As well, Brad had a driver's license which John even though he'd turned sixteen in February still lacked meaning that the two would be able to make it around to where they needed to be. All he was missing was a work truck to pull the equipment trailer which he took care of by getting Joe to allow him to use some of his money to make that investment, securing at a good price a three-year-old, no frills GMC Sierra 1500 pickup. John also got Sean to agree to accompany them until he was satisfied that they were proficient enough to work efficiently, pointing out that while Brad was as honest as the day is long, and obviously had a good work ethic, he was also, putting it in as polite fashion as he could, not Albert Einstein. "He's good with money, though..." Sean pointed out. "You ever notice he knows exactly how much something costs, like right to the penny? I can just picture it if someone tried to short him on a job he'd stand there and drawl, `Woll, that ain't whatcher s'poseta pay me...'" "Yeah, it's like a Savant thing..." John laughed. Jim Nolan and Danny made their move into the apartment over the garage at the Alamo without much fuss, Danny transferring to University of Wisconsin-Whitewater and Jim enrolling at Craig. Danny put his Grandmother's old house in Kenosha up for sale knowing he'd never return to it, and Jim settled into the student life at Craig easily. He had but one semester to go before graduation anyway, and being a friend of Sean and Andy gave him an entrée into the upper level of the Craig student body. It turned out as well that Jim, never having thought of himself as a particularly good student, had been a little better than he thought and in terms of requirements to graduate only had one English class to complete while the rest of his schedule could be filled with electives. It would be for him an easy semester. At present things had indeed settled down into what most other people would think of as being a recognizably normal pattern of life for the boys. Or so it seemed... And it continued to seem that way as Brett, with Sean's help on the wedding party fashions put the finishing touches on the dress for the wedding. As earlier decided, the four men to be married would wear gray morning dress, white shirts and black bowties. Their mothers would be dressed in solid-color dresses made of sturdy, quality material in yellow with tiny hints of cream highlights and matching hats each trimmed with a jet-black feather. Stylish but understated. Sean suggested they look to the timeless way Queen Elizabeth II always dressed on public walkabouts for general style ideas which Brett agreed with except for the hats, noting that, "her hats are all kinda boxy, ya know... I think the rounder off-the-face ones her mother wore would work better." Sean agreed saying that the Queen Mother's hats also added height and since all the guys in the wedding party were tall it would give the illusion of the whole group being more even in height when photographs were taken. Sean made sure as well that George Dickson performing his duty as Justice of the Peace would also be in black morning dress, however with a dark red bowtie. Neither boy wanted anything to do with patterns, or too many colors risking that some might clash. "You don't want patterns. Who knows what styles are gonna be down the road and I'm sure you won't want to look at the pics thirty years from now going, `WHAT were we thinking!'" Sean said. The best men would be in black morning dress all except for Tim's brother David who would wear his United States Marines dress uniform, also basically black. The Church would be festooned with flowers, Sean again making the suggestion and that it would be good to go with Birds of Paradise and let the flowers provide the contrasting colors. The Choir was practiced, and as luck would have it, the pipe organ keyboard, pedals and stops at Saint Mary's were nearly identical to those Peggy Dickson's old friend played at the Cathedral of Saint John the Evangelist in Milwaukee. With two weeks to go before the wedding and one week in front of graduation, it was a busy time but also a golden time that in years to come none of them would ever forget. It was also nearing the time when Sean could expect to become a father. Over the months, the pregnancy had gone more, or less uneventfully especially for a young mother's first. Sean made the trip to Stevens Point a few times to check up on things. Twice when he was there he made it a point to actually visit Colleen. Their first meeting was not one that Sean felt he could term a success if only because of the resentment Colleen showed, screaming non-stop at Sean for having been "fucking locked up in this shitty fucking place. You had me locked up here, and don't think you won't pay for that! You'll fucking pay, you bastard!" Sean reminded her that the only choice on offer was for her to be either where she was now, or the Rock County Jail. He also reminded her that he was paying for the whole thing, including her medical care, and that he wasn't interested in her opinion of her present accommodations. "Look, you're the one who drugged me and raped me because you're really nothing more than a spoiled fucking drunk and a meth-head. Talk to the hand, because I ain't gonna listen. Once you have the babies, that's it. You did it to yourself. And then you'll probably end up in a REAL jail that nobody can bail you out of. And not your dad, either. In fact, if he hasn't told you already, he had to sell his business. He's got no power over anybody anymore. And there's a lot more I could add, but I'm not going to, so just know that whether you hate it here, or not, it doesn't mean shit." The second time he saw Colleen she seemed a bit contrite. It seemed to Sean that as time drew nearer, she seemed maybe to be on her way to reconciling herself with the fact that what she had done was wrong. By now heavily pregnant and seemingly physically uncomfortable she told Sean she'd just be glad when it was all over. She made it a point to ask about the future of the babies, indicating that she was under some impression, Sean had no idea where it came from, that she'd have some role in raising them. "I am going to raise them. By myself," Sean said in an even voice. Colleen registered sharp surprise and a loud, swearing tirade at what she had just been told. "Look, here's the deal..." Sean replied. "It's my call, and there are no plans for you to be involved in raising those boys. Nor will there be. Period. And I'm the only person who can change that. Not anybody else. Your father made an enforceable, written agreement that he's not going to fight me for custody. And neither should you. You wouldn't stand a chance of winning anyway, and you haven't got any money to hire a Lawyer to fight it. Your dad might have the money, but he can't pay for you to fight me because if he did he'd be violating his agreement, so you see there's no way forward for you there. I suppose you COULD try to fight for some kind of visitation rights, yeah, but if you try that I'm afraid I'd tie it up in Court for so long and put so many conditions on it those kids'd be out of High School by the time anything was decided. So, again, I am the only person who could change that, and I wouldn't even think of doing it until they were old enough to understand anyway. I want that to be crystal clear. Besides, if you go back to meth, you probably won't be alive by then..." "YOU are a FUCKING ASSHOLE!" Collen hissed. "Yeah, well, I hope I was worth it..." was Sean's dry-as-tinder reply. Sean reduced these dealings to writing, providing copies, and copies of the audio recordings of his conversations with Colleen to George Dickson. Even though at this stage George felt the chances of one of the Kennedys filing a custody suit once the twins were born was remote, and that if one of them did the chances of them prevailing were infinitely more infinitesimal, as always George erred on the side of the old saying that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. As a further precaution, Sean had the City of Janesville come in and inspect the children's quarters and nursery at the Alamo in order to document that everything passed the building codes, that the homes fire protection apparatus was functional and exceeded minimum requirements and that the yard passed the City's requirements as if it were to be used as a Nursery School, even though Sean never intended such a use. While unnecessary, it would get into the City's records the exemplary condition of the property and suitability as a place for small children. Just in case. The English Nanny that Ginny hired arrived in advance of the births so she could get settled in and be ready from Day One. Her name was Mrs. Cheadle and she bore herself as the archetypal, no-nonsense, forty-ish Englishwoman one could easily imagine in a prior life directing RAF Spitfires out to intercept the Luftwaffe during the Blitz. Sean saw no wedding ring on her finger, and wondered where Mr. Cheadle might be. "Will Mr. Cheadle miss you while you're here?" Sean asked. "Right..." came the tartly brisk reply. "There is no Mr. Cheadle. In my profession, we are all called Mrs. If that will be all for now, Sir?" Sean found it all very amusing and soon affectionately nicknamed the her "Mrs. Doubtfire" a moniker which surprisingly Mrs. Cheadle bore with good humor. She had the use of Sean's car and complete authority to stock the Alamo with whatever she thought she needed for the care of two newborns. "They won't be needing much right away, Sir," she explained to Sean. "Just fresh nappies, feed them when they want it and some bright things to get their attention. They'll let us know when they move past that and need more. I'll record their weights, eating, urination and defecation habits daily in a log book. I will require the bedroom next door to theirs so I can attend to the night feedings and of course I will be putting up a modest portrait of Her Majesty the Queen. At any rate, the really little ones can be loud at night sometimes, you know... And we'll be needing suitable clothing for them. Nothing poncy to start, mind you. Just one-piece things they can't hurt themselves with. I prefer to use the old-fashioned cotton diapers. Better for their skin. I've engaged a diaper service for efficiency. Not to worry, Sir, your boys are in good hands." Sean knew they would be in good hands. Ginny showed him Mrs. Cheadle's résumé, and among others she had cared for the newborns of two British Prime Ministers, Tony Blair and David Cameron. In addition, she had been on the short list to care for Prince William's first-born, Prince George. Unusually for a Nanny, she had a Degree that in the United States would be the equivalent of a Registered Nurse and was registered back in England with the Nursing and Midwifery Council. Her references were, in short, impeccable. And she didn't come cheap. Sean's own research revealed that likely she was costing Ginny around £75,000 a year, a figure equal to about $110,000. Those facts, too, went into George Dickson's file. When asked why she hadn't been a Nurse in England instead of a Nanny she replied using language that in England would be par for the course, but in the United States considered somewhat salty. "Right, well, you have to work for the NHS* if you're a Nurse. Twatty NHS wouldn'tve paid me a bloody farthing compared to what I've made as a Nanny over the years. One does like to be able to treat oneself to a few nice things once in a way, you know... Anyway, it's all the little buggers what I like to care for. Give them a proper start in life." "Hmmm, `twatty.' I'm gonna hafta remember that one..." Sean laughed. "Bugger me if I know what amuses you Yanks..." Mrs. Cheadle smiled. "Sir..." "You can call me Sean, you know," Sean said wondering why she insisted on calling him Sir. "I suppose I could call you lots of things if I thought about it, Sir. But my employers are Sir and Ma'am." With that, Sean considered the idea closed that he would ever be anything other than `Sir' to `Mrs. Doubtfire.' JUNE 9, 2015. The next day was graduation for the Craig High School Class of 2015. Brett and Tim made ready, their gowns pressed, honors chords accounted for, and speeches rehearsed. "Fuck!" Tim exclaimed. "I better not fucking fuck this up..." "You won't. It's easy as pie, and it's only a minute long. Besides, you can't fuck it up because you're having one of the graduation parties later on and you don't want everyone giving you shit... Which I will see to it that they do if you fuck it up." "Asshole!" Tim chuckled. "You are what you eat!" Brett rejoined. "We're going for a ride," Tim said. "C'mon!" "Where to?" "You'll see..." Tim stopped off just long enough to find Peggy. "Hey, mom, we need to take the CTS for a little while... Then I'm gonna drop Brett off at his house." "Well, alright you two hoodlums. No funny business in the car now don'tcha know... I don't want my clothes sticking to the seat! You two got that look in your eyes... I'm surprised your peckers haven't fallen off yet if ya really wanna know... I'da bet they had by now!" "Jeez, mom, is that all you think about?" Tim said, read as a beet. "Go on, now..." Peggy laughed. Once in the car, Brett asked again where they were going. And he got the same answer, "for a ride." Tim knew where he was going. All week long he'd felt a sense inside him that one chapter of his life - the only chapter he knew so far - a comfortable one where other than his battle coming to terms with being gay, everything had been familiar to him and came with little fanfare. Scholastic, and athletic achievements he had in buckets full and without flash, or braggadocio. But one thing he hadn't had until that fateful day nine months ago was fulfillment. And now he had that in buckets full, too, but some of that was to be turned on its head. The finish line of graduation would mark the starting line of a new life and one, a situation heretofore unknown to Tim, that he had no idea what it would bring, or even what might be expected. And so, in that moment, he decided he'd take Brett to the place where it all began. After a time, he pulled Peggy's Cadillac CTS into Riverside Golf Course. "Are we going where I think we're going?" Brett asked, a smile on his lips. "Yup. That OK?" "Yup, and I brought the same thing tonight as I did that night. I know you, Timothy." The two boys made their way, hand in hand, to the same hole on the course and the same spot where they fell in love. The time of the day was now late enough so that they'd have their place to themselves as they had before. Brett reflected as Tim did on the Omega and Alpha of where he stood. Unlike Tim, he had no trace of anxiety. Up until this last Fall, Brett had been a little-noticed, nerdy, shrimpy, run-of- the-mill student not really fitting into any of the cliquish groups standard in any large American High School. He was a loner. While he didn't lack self-confidence, he merely viewed himself as a cypher. His loner-ness, however, had given him a resilient shell. He'd never really fit into any group and therefore didn't feel any burning need to do so. If he did, fine. If he didn't, well, that was just fine, too. But his new-found athletic success gave his self-confidence something it hadn't had, and that was an air of authority. He'd found out that people not only noticed him now, but they also respected him. He was smart enough to tuck that knowledge in the back of his mind and use his new stature sparingly, if at all, figuring it might be useful to him in the future. And he knew one hundred percent that he owed it all to Tim. Brett knew that if he hadn't gone outside of his own comfort zone that day at the Mall last Fall, reaching out to a boy he'd always found attractive but who unbeknownst to him at the time wrestled with his own demons, he would not be where he was now. And he learned that lesson, too. The lesson of how to go for it. Arriving at the place burned into their memories from that first time, they both sat down exactly in the same places they'd been on that night seemingly so long ago... Brett took Tim's hand in his, his hand now at least now on par in size and meatiness with Tim's. He leaned in and kissed Tim, feeling Tim instantly responding to his overture. Reaching down, he felt Tim's hardness through his jeans. Tim opened his legs allowing Brett better access as he continued furiously kissing his soon-to-be-husband. Reversing the roles they had on that first night, Brett undid Tim's jeans exposing his swollen erection. He stood Tim up against the same tree he'd been fastened to that night and engulfed his lover's pole with his throat. Attentive as always, Brett skillfully manipulated Tim's balls and perineum bringing forth Tim's guttural groans. Tim removed his shirt, running his hands over his muscular torso and caressing his hard nipples as Brett throat fucked himself. Lubing a finger, Brett found Tim's asshole. Circling it lightly, Tim whimpered releasing sweet precum onto Brett's tongue. By now, Brett was so hard he had to pause to remove his own pants, His cock sprung out like an angry dragon from the elastic waistband of his underwear. Tim reached his hand, enveloping Brett's turgid hardness, jacking it until precum came to lube the head and shaft. Brett indicated that he stop, returning to swallowing Tim's erection, and reaching around behind him to continue teasing his hole. Tim gasped as Brett's index finger entered and found the tiny round nut of his prostate, rewarding Brett with a cascade of warm, salty-sweet pre-jizz. Tim's hard cock expanded and twitched inside Brett's mouth as he kept up a gentle, steady massage on Tim's prostate and taint. Tim whimpered, gasping, his legs growing ever wobblier. "Make me cum" he rasped. "Make me cum NOW!" Brett decided he didn't want to swallow Tim's load, but that he'd rather see his lover's healthy cock explode, shooting his creamy load as far as he could. He increased his prostate ministrations, taking his other hand and lightly pressing on and massaging the area just above Tim's cock that was always so sensitive. "Oh, GOD! I'm gonna CUM!" Tim oathed. "Cum for me, Tim," Brett whispered. "Come on, cum for me..." Tim's dick was released from Brett's mouth as Brett torridly jacked it. "Shoot your load! Shoot it!" Tim responded, clenching his ass cheeks together as his cock expanded and contracted reaching the point of no return. "Fuck! UH! Shit! Uh, here is comes! I'm gonna fuckin' blow! OH GOD!" Tim hissed as he let loose with rope after rope of creamy cum spurting long-distance into the grass. Brett intercepted one of Tim's volleys in mid-flight, covering his fingers which he licked off all the while leering at Tim. "I'm gonna fuck your ass now," Brett said. "Turn around and bend over. You want my cock up your ass? Do you? I wanna fuck your hot ass, Tim... Let me fuck you! Let me shoot inside you!" "Fuck me, Brett. Take me!" Brett spun Tim around, pulling him down onto the ground on all-fours. Lubing his still-raging boner, he got on his knees moving up close to his target. Again, he lubed his fingers sticking two up Tim's ass, continuing to massage his prostate. Tim was a copious cummer and flowed more precum which dripped on the ground. Withdrawing his fingers, Bret moved his cock up to Tim's waiting hole, rubbing the head all around the pucker. "Stick it in!" Tim begged. "Fucking fuck me!" Brett steered the head of his penis dead center on Tim's waiting orifice. Pushing ever so slightly he felt his lover yield to him, the length of his swollen dick sliding gracefully in one motion up to the hilt. Tim gasped, begging even more to be used. Brett took this as a sign that Tim wanted it rough, so he reached around, harshly pincering one of Tim's nipples with one hand while jacking him off with the other. He set up a motion of even, long strokes making sure that each one almost removed the head of his dick from Tim's hole so he'd have to plunge back in stretching and contracting it each time. "Pound me, Brett. Cum in me! Make me cum! FUCK MEEEEEEE!" Brett could take no more, quickening his pace both fucking Tim and jacking him off. He felt himself reaching a crescendo, his cock expanding, the tell-tale sign of impending orgasm. His breath heaved as his muscles pounded Tim for all they were worth. "Want my cum in you? Want me to shoot inside you?" "Fuckin' cum in me," Tim pleaded. "Cum in me NOW!" Brett could stand no more. "SHIT! FUCK! Oh, fuck man! Fucking SHIT!" he swore as he let loose spasms of sperm shot up Tim's ass, each one Tim feeling as a warm spot in his intestines. Tim could feel Brett's dick expanding and contracting inside him. He came again, another healthy load this one so musky in its male scent that it pushed Brett over the edge to a second orgasm. "I love you!" Brett gasped, his pulse still racing as he collapsed on Tim's back his dick still inside him. They stayed that way for what seemed an eternity, both spent, unable to stand, and silently thinking the same thoughts. "I love you too," Tim whispered. "More than you will ever know... Should we get going? Don't wanna get caught with our pants down..." he laughed. "Yeah, the night before graduation... OK, let's go..." Brett said, standing up, extending his hand to Tim and pulling him up. Pulling into the Dowling home's driveway, Brett invited Tim in. Herb and Marilyn greeted the boys when they entered. "You guys ready for the big day tomorrow?" Marilyn asked. "I guess we're as ready as we'll ever be..." Tim said. "As long as some guy doesn't get smart and take a shot atcha..." Herb laughed. "DAD!" Brett exclaimed. "Ah, don't worry... Your dad's teasing and I don't think I'll get shot at tomorrow. I hafta go first. You go last. Go on too long with your speech and someone'll plug YOU, for sure..." "That's right, I damn near forgot about that," Herb said. "We got the Valedictorian AND the Salutatorian right here in our front room. Whadya think of that, Marilyn?" "Well, maybe they're smart enough to load the dishwasher, then..." Marilyn laughed. "If not we wasted a whole lot of tax money all these years..." In an instant, Tim was in the kitchen and had the machine loaded up, soap in, and running. "Big mistake there Tim..." Herb said. "Huh? I know how to load a dishwasher..." "Sure, but now BRETT knows you know how to load a dishwasher... See what I mean? There ARE finer points to being a husband, you know..." Herb said, by now into an honest-to- goodness belly laugh. "Jesus, dad..." Brett said. "Whadya mean?" Herb continued laughing. "You're the smart one - you didn't go fill the dishwasher..." "Well, then, I'll never do laundry..." Tim said. "By the way, Herb, I put all your coffee cups in right-side-up so they'll be full of water when the machine's done... Just lettin' ya know... So...maybe I'm not so dumb after all..." "You'll make an excellent Lawyer, Tim," Marilyn said, tousling Tim's hair. "Alright, well, I better shove off. I'll see you guys tomorrow, then!" "Night, Tim!" They all said. JUNE 10, 2015 Graduation this year was outdoors at Monterey Stadium. The 672 graduating Seniors of the Class of 2015 were seated in the order they would be called to receive their diplomas. The ceremonies were opened by the Superintendent of Schools, a rather unimpressive-looking middle-aged woman who thankfully took less than one minute to deliver her monotonous and soporific remarks. Next up was Principal McVay. "Ladies and gentlemen, soon-to-be-graduates. Welcome to the forty-ninth annual Craig High School graduation ceremonies. One-hundred and fifty-sixth if you count the days before Parker was built and we were just Janesville High School. That's even older than some of the faculty... Anyway, we've got a big program to get through here today, so without further ado I give you the Salutatorian of the 2015 Class, Timothy Dickson." The tall, athletic, auburn-haired visage of the Class Salutatorian and starting Varsity Quarterback mounted the stage in his Royal Blue cap and gown, honors chords and sash draped around his broad shoulders and his speech in his hand to a standing ovation and thunderous choruses of "We're Number One!" from both his classmates and the audience. True to form, Tim gave a wave and a huge smile. Taking the podium, he gave a pause, cocked his head and adjusted the microphone with the moves of an accomplished actor. Then he saluted the audience. "They, um, they said I was the, uh...Salutatorian, so I guess I'm supposed to salute. Or something. Anyway, I have this speech all written up here, butcha know what?" And with that Tim held his speech up and ripped the paper in half. The audience again cheered. "I'm just gonna say what's in my heart, and I promise I'll keep it short. Four years ago we all came here and we were just fourteen-year-old ninth graders. Seems like yesterday, doesn't it? We didn't know jack. We were just kids. Think about it. But here we are. Because our parents, our school, our teachers and coaches cared enough to let us make it happen for ourselves. We're leaving now as adults. And we're ready... Are we ready?" "YES!" the entire class boomed. "I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" Tim bellowed into the microphone. "YEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!" came the deafening response. "Good. That's all I have to say. Thank you." With that Tim again saluted, walked off the stage to a standing ovation, and returned to his seat. Next up was Coach Slater to present the year's athletic awards. "I had no doubt that Mister Dickson would deliver something short, sweet and to-the-point. With that, we'll present the awards for this year's outstanding Senior athletes..." Tim got an award never before given, for Valor. Brett was awarded for Best New Athlete. The Athlete of the Year Award, as everyone knew, had gone to Sean and so was not announced, or presented at the graduation ceremony as Sean, a Junior, was not graduating that day. Coach Slater then wrapped up, "Last but certainly not least, and it seems fitting to announce it here today. Normally these things take years, but the Janesville Athletic Association in conjunction with the Craig Athletic Department by a unanimous vote of both parties hereby inducts all members of the 2014 Varsity Football team and supporting crew, each man individually and the team as a whole into the Janesville Athletic Hall of Fame and the Craig Athletic Hall of Fame. The inductions are effective immediately. Congratulations, gentlemen." And then came various other awards, honors, the announcement of scholarships, and the meat of the program – the long process of presenting diplomas to all 672 graduates, each one taking the walk across the stage as practiced. Lastly, Brett was called up to the stage to give the Valedictory Address. He took the stage with the same presence and poise Tim displayed at the opening of the ceremonies, but with an air of physical grace and beauty that Tim simply not match. More than one mother in the audience, and some dads, felt an inconvenient twinge. "Well, it's over guys," Brett began. "And I think Tim had a good idea," Brett laughed, ripping his speech in half, too. "Tim was right. We came here as kids. Here and now we leave as adults. I don't think I'm supposed to salute you, but I guess as Valedictorian maybe I'm supposed to validate you. Or as Tim would say, `Or something.' OK, you're validated... Some of us will miss this place, and some of us won't. That's just how it goes, but it's fair to say none of us will forget it. We're done, guys. We did our jobs. So, one last time... ARE WE READY? Brett didn't have to ask a second time. The response brought the house down. Principal McVay unexpectadly mounted the stage informing the crowd that, "There's one last announcement before Rabbi Brayman from Temple B'nai Abraham delivers the closing benediction."** "A late scholarship came in. It was delivered literally just now so we weren't able to get it into the rest of the program. I have no idea what it is, so this will be as much a surprise to the rest of us as it will be to the recipient." Principle McVay opened the envelope, read the contents. His eyes went wide, and he coughed. He looked at the document curiously, and read it again. "Uh, ladies and gentlemen, this, uh... This appears to be someone's lucky day. Uh, reeeally lucky day... It says here that the Scholarship is a one-time gift from an anonymous donor and that it will pay all tuition and related expenses and all living expenses for the education of the recipient's choice up to and including two graduate and/or professional Degrees at any school, or schools of the recipient's choice." The crowd gasped, mouths hanging open. Every single one of them. "It says the scholarship shall be awarded to the student who delivered the Valedictory Address to the Class of 2015. Well, congratulations to our Valedictorian, Brett Dowling. This is certainly, uh, unreal... Brett, come back up here. Wow... Congratulations!" Brett, totally dumbfounded, trooped back to the stage, accepted the Scholarship, and just as dumbfounded returned to his seat. Seated next to him in the Honors section, Tim elbowed him, took the paper and read it. "Jesus Fucking Christ!" Tim whispered, handing the paper back. "Rabbi Brayman?" Principal McVay nodded in the direction of the Rabbi. After the Rabbi's benediction, common sense delivered in a classic Yiddish accent which the old Jew, tearing in half his prepared remarks as the other two had done, knew enough to keep as short as those who went before him, the proceedings closed as 672 Royal Blue caps flew into the air on that brightly sunlit day at the old stadium by the river. JUNE 13, 2015 On this lovely early Summer Saturday night, the old Supper Club north of town had been reserved for the pre-wedding dinner. Dressed to the nines, the hosts and guests for the evening filtered in. In true George and Peggy Dickson fashion, they asked the restaurant to keep things light and informal. Instead of choosing a set dinner menu which would have been easier for the kitchen, they elected to allow guests to order whatever they wanted from a pared-down menu, and as expected George would pick up the entire tab for the evening, only allowing Herb and Marilyn responsibility for the tips. Sean and Andy arrived early, with Joe, John and Kathleen following. Standing outside, Sean indicated to Andy that he'd like to have a smoke before they went in and lit up a Camel Straight. Presently, they were approached by a man appearing probably a little older than they were. He was alone. Strikingly tall with flame red hair and ice-blue eyes, Andy estimated his height at about 6'5" and quite thin. Not quite as thin as Brad, but almost. As he approached, he looked them over appearing as if he was trying to say something, but saying nothing. Both Andy and Sean thought it was a little creepy. When he was within five feet of them he stopped. Again he looked them over. "Um, you guys are, um, Sean and A...Andy... Um, yeah?" he said with a healthy stammer. "Uh, yeah..." Sean replied warily. "And you are..." "I'm, um... Well... I'm, um, K...Kevin Dickson. I'm, um, Tim's, um, brother..." "How'dja know who were were?" Andy excitedly asked. "Um, T...Timmy, um... Well, he, uh, like he, um, told me about you g...guys. I, um... I don't get home much, so, um, I like...I only know you from p...pictures he sent..." Sean and Andy were somewhat dumbfounded that after getting to know Tim, George and Peggy here would be Tim's oldest brother, gangly, awkward, stuttering and painfully shy. A closer look revealed that Kevin's facial features took after his mother, unlike Tim who was the spitting image of George. Andy was the first to stick out his hand, smiling broadly. "Wow, it's great to meet you, Kevin! Or do you go by Kev... We were wondering if we'd ever get to meet Tim's brothers... Fuckin-A!" "Um, yeah... I... I go by, um, Kevin..." he stuttered, slowly shaking Andy's hand. Sean realizing that Kevin must have been terrified even to approach them, offered his hand next. "Pleased to meet you, Kevin," was all he said, giving what he hoped was a reassuring nod and a smile. "We'll walk in with you is that's OK..." "Um, OK... Is, um, I mean...is, um D...David...here yet?" "That's your other brother, right?" Andy asked. "Yeah..." "We don't know! We've never met HIM, either!" Andy replied, grinning. "D...David, um, d...doesn't stutter..." Kevin said with the faintest shy smile. Sean put his cigarette out and the three entered the Supper Club, showing their invitations at the front desk and moving into the bar area. They spotted George and Peggy right away. Kevin, surprisingly to Sean and Andy moved smartly ahead of them. "H...Hi, mom and d...dad!" Kevin smiled, this time a huge smile reminding Andy and Sean of Tim's broad smile. "I m...met Andy and Sean in the p...parking lot on the way in! T...Timmy told me all about them..." "Kevin!" George exclaimed. "C'mere number one son! Give your old man a hug!" Kevin and George hugged tight, George even though much shorter mussing his son's fire red hair. "go say hello to your mother while I getcha a beer!" Peggy stepped right up, taking George's place as if it were choreographed. "Oh, Kevin!" Peggy smiled. "You're the apple of your old mom's eye, don'tcha know... You'll always be my first one! So, tell your old mom where the bear shits in the woods! Whatcha got goin' on now thatcha went and graduated College, Mister! When do ya move to Chicago, now?" "M...Mom's always l...like this..." Kevin said to Sean and Andy, who instanly returned a look of, "And we didn't know that?" George returned from the bar with a round of beers for everyone while Peggy continued, "Oh, shush now, Kevin!" Peggy said. "These two hoodlums are the reason your baby brother's gettin' married in the first place, aren'tcha now, ya two little street urchins..." Peggy then tweaked both Sean and Andy on the cheek. "You three run along now. You have a couple o' beers and get to know each other, now..." Doing as they were told, Sean and Andy got to know Kevin a little bit, both thinking what a striking contrast he was to Tim and their parents. He seemed genuine, and if not personable, and as time went on least friendly. They learned that he just graduated from University of Wisconsin-Madison, Cum Laude, with a BBA in Finance and already had a job at BMO Harris Bank in Chicago waiting for him. He would be moving in a couple of weeks. He seemed to warm up to the other two, even if somewhat deliberately, and didn't really initiate conversation but would willingly answer questions. Other guests filtered in at intervals. The Dowlings arrived shortly thereafter and stood with George and Peggy. Danny's parents, his mother being George's sister came in, however Sean did not see Jim Nolan's `parents.' He hadn't really expected to. Joe, John and Kathleen, Ginny, guys from the football team, Coach Slater, and others. Soon the Supper Club was packed with people milling around, talking, enjoying cocktails and socializing in the easy way many such functions go. Tim and Brett had not yet arrived, Peggy kidding Marilyn that Tim would be late to his own funeral. Suddenly, Sean who had been asking Kevin a question about his Finance education was interrupted by someone. It was a man, his age Sean couldn't guess but probably no more than 25 years old, well-tanned, dark hair and eyes, maybe just under six feet tall and built like the proverbial brick shithouse. He wore a closely-cropped flat top haircut, and Sean could see his muscles rippling under his Oxford shirt. "Jesus Christ, Kev! You're lookin' good, man!" He exclaimed in a booming voice, slapping Kevin on the back. Rather than recoil, Kevin actually smiled broadly. Andy and Sean wondered who this could be. "Hey, who are your buddies here, anyway?" the new guy asked. "Th...this is, um, Sean W...Wyman a...and A...Andy Churchill. Th...this is m...my other brother, D...David. Sergeant David D...Dickson, U.S. M...Marine Corps." "Well, shit..." David boomed again. "I heard about you guys from Timmy and mom and dad. You, Wyman! You gave Timmy a fuckin' run for his money at Quarterback, and Churchill, you're the one found him his husband, aren'tcha! You can fuckin' call me Dave! You guys want a drink? What about you, Kev?" Again, Sean and Andy's heads spun. There was Tim, one of their best friends. Earnest, sometimes tongue-tied yet outgoing, normal-in-every-way Tim, then there was the shy, almost meek, stuttering Kevin and then the muscle-bound, loud, earthy David. "Dave, I'll go to the bar. You stay and talk to your brother. Besides, I'd buy a Service Man a drink any day." Sean said. "Whatcha drinkin'?" "If it says beer on it, I'm fuckin' drinkin' it..." David laughed, a deep hearty laugh. "You got it." At the bar, Sean cut in next to Peggy. "So, I see you guys finally met all of my evil spawn there, Sean." "Yeah, we did. They don't look anything alike, though... I never woulda guessed in a million years they were Tim's brothers..." "Well, now ya see, all my boys are different, that's for sure..." Peggy laughed. "You probably noticed Kevin's stutter and how shy he is. Ya see, when he was born it was a breach birth and there was a time he went without Oxygen. It didn't affect his intelligence, but it did affect his speech ability and he never was good at sports. He didn't really talk until he was almost three, don'tcha know. He's not slow, but in school the kids teased him something awful and that made him shy. He doesn't talk much, and he's a loner. Always has been. He's a good boy, though. Then there's David. He's got one speed: fast, and one volume level: loud. He was always Kevin's alter ego and he'd stick up like mad for Kevin in school if he was gettin' picked on even though he's two years younger. Never mind that, though, David worships Kevin. He always told me, "Mom, Kevin's the one with the good heart."" A tear came to Peggy's eye. "And then there's Timmy. David was two years old when we brought Timmy home from the Hospital and he was mad as hell. Jealous. But Kevin took to Timmy right off. Never let him out of his sight. Later on, David and Timmy would rough house like boys do, but Kevin even though he's older couldn't keep up, so things went the other way and the other two looked out for Kevin. "We didn't see much of Kevin once he went off to school in Madison. He likes to be in one place, that's how he's comfortable, so it didn't surprise me and George any... As soon as David finished High School, well, he joined the Marines, don'tcha know, so we didn't see much of him, either. I'm just glad I have all my boys home now... Who knows when that'll ever happen again..." Peggy said wistfully, withdrawing a Kleenex from her purse to wipe her eyes and blow her nose. Sean paid for his round of drinks and gave Peggy a nice, warm hug. "Thanks, mom," he said before returning to his group. He handed out the drinks just as Brett and Tim finally walked in. Their first stop was their parents with hugs, handshakes and joyful tears all around. Tim bade Danny's mother, his Aunt Ruth a huge hug of a greeting as well as Danny's father, his Uncle Steve, introducing them to Brett and asking about the whereabouts of his lookalike cousin. Pointed in the direction, they made off to seek the other couple-of-honor for the evening. Running across Sean, Tim and Brett stopped, then spotted both of his brothers standing next to Sean. Tim held his forehead in his left hand while tears came to his eyes. He entire face and lips screwed up, overcome with emotion. "It's my two big brothers. I'm...I'm so glad you both came. I miss you guys, you know... Goddamnit..." "It's O...OK, littlest brother," Kevin said, putting his arm around Tim. "I...It's good to see you, too..." "Yeah, little bro, now wipe that sorry excuse of a face off and introduce us to your guy here, will ya already?" David admonished. "Guys, this is Brett Dowling. In a week he'll be your brother-in-law. Brett, the beanstalk here is my oldest brother, Kevin and the jarhead is David. Brett's gonna be the best brother-in-law you'll ever have!" Tim said proudly. "Prolly the only one, too, there, Tim..." David teased, voice still reverberating. "Welcome to the family, Brett. And when ya cornhole him, do it good and make sure he barks like a dog... Seriously, though, welcome." "Y...Yeah, w...welcome, Brett..." Kevin said with the same big smile he had for David. "Nice to finally meet Tim's brothers!" Brett said with his usual class. "Tim's told me something about both of you. I never had a brother, or a sister, so this is awesome! And, David..." "Dave," David interrupted. "OK, Dave, I'll remember what you said. I mean about barking dogs..." Incongruously for the conversation that had gone before, Kevin who had been taking a pull on his beer spit it out at Brett's remark. "I...I c...can see Timmy m...met his match!" Kevin said, actually laughing a little bit. Just then John and Kathleen came over and in the middle of being introduced Ginny made her appearance. "Oy Vay!" Ginny said, fanning herself. "My drink's not the only thing that's moist with all this fine maleness around. You could give this old lady a heart attack...or the first orgasm I've had in thirty years... My, my, my..." "G...Ginny. You n...never change!" Kevin smiled. "Never hear of a vibrator, Gin?" David said. "Well, now that yer askin' I'll show ya what's in my nightstand alright, Sergeant Dickson. You could give me drill instruction, ya know... Mmmmm Hmmmm..." Even Kathleen laughed at that, but John turned as red as a stop sign. "What's the matter there, little dude!" David said. "Cat gotcher tongue, or is it a pussy?" "Wouldn't you like to know..." Kathleen teased back, sticking her tongue out. "Butcha never will..." David stood mouth open. "She shut you up, middle bro!" Tim said, punching David in the shoulder. "Well, you got your hands full there, J.R., I'll tell ya that much..." David admitted. "Well, guys, should we go in and eat?" Tim asked. "I can have dad tell them to get dinner service started..." "I...I c...could eat a f...fucking horse!" Kevin said. "L...Let's go!" Together they all filed into the dining room. "Everyone sit where you want!" George called out. "Order what you like and drinks are on the house!" The evening passed in good spirits and good company. Many remarked on the two couples, and how even though one of each set of grooms-to-be looked identical, their personalities were very different and that was reflected in their choices of two solid mates. More than a few remarked that they were so young, but looked so ready. Afterward, the owner allowed both couples and a few of their closest friends to stay at the bar, drinks still on the house. It was a private party so the owner was not concerned about checking ID's. George had arranged in advance for their cars to be driven back to town, and for a small shuttle bus to pick them up at 1:00 a.m., everyone dropped off at their own homes other than the two couples who were dropped off at a hotel, through the courtesy of the Dowlings, both couples with their own deluxe suite. JUNE 20, 2015 Two massively long, gleaming, jet-black, flawless 1976 Cadillac Fleetwood 75 Limousines, the pride of one of the local livery company's fleet, sailed as majestically as aircraft carriers into the driveway of the Dickson home and collected their eight passengers. Four young men about to become two married couples and their mothers. END CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR *NHS. In the United Kingdom, the NHS is the National Health Service. It's Britain's government- run and -controlled health care system. Health care employees are Government employees, but the Government is also responsible to deliver acceptable health care. Both of those things must be done within the budget constraint of what taxpayers can afford to pay by politicians facing reelection. One can imagine that reconciling those competing interests may very well be challenging. **By long tradition, the Craig graduation ceremony closed with a benediction from a member of the Clergy, rotating every year between congregations having students in the school. The turn this year was for the Jewish congregation.