Date: Wed, 7 Mar 2018 21:17:35 +0000
From: Douglas DD <thehakaanen@hotmail.com>
Subject: Aiden II  Chapter 14

Welcome back. In this chapter, Aiden gets to spend time with and bond
closer to his hero, Marty.

Please donated to the Nifty Archive to keep the stories coming.

Thanks to all who have sent emails. I love getting them.
thehakaanen@hotmail.com

Douglas

CHAPTER 14
PERFECTION

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 14

<Keegan>

Keegan set his last box on the floor of the studio apartment. It was the
last of the five boxes he, Natalie, and Drake had carried up to the fourth
floor on the slow, rickety elevator. He surveyed his total belongings. He
had five boxes of belongings, mostly clothes, toiletries, along with dishes
and kitchenware he'd purchased at the Goodwill. The apartment was furnished
with a couch, an overstuffed armchair, a table with two chairs, and a
Murphy bed with a mattress. The landlord said he would provide a new
mattress if Keegan was willing to pay an extra $20 in rent, to which Keegan
readily agreed.

"Well, it ain't much, but it's mine," Keegan said. It was as much as he
could remember possessing in a long time. "All we got to do now is get some
sheets and blankets and some food."

"Don't forget the beer," Drake said hopefully. Natalie's thirteen-year-old
nephew had suggested the three of them have an apartment warming on
Saturday, which Keegan and Natalie had not yet agreed to.

"We'll see," Natalie told her nephew.

"When my mom says that, she means no."

"Let's go shop." Keegan wasn't about to step into the little tiff between
Drake and his aunt. They'd been arguing about a beer party all week. Keegan
was happy to have his own place. Between his three to four day a week job
at the McCall Trucking warehouse and some sheetrock work on his days off he
was making a good enough income to afford the little studio in the Ballard
district.

As much as he liked Natalie he realized he needed his own space. Natalie
had been telling him the same thing for the past few weeks. Drake told
Keegan he wanted to move in with him on weekends. "We could drink and smoke
pot all the time," he said.

"I don't think so," Natalie and Keegan said simultaneously.

"Your mom wouldn't approve," Natalie pointed out.

"So, who's going to tell her?" Drake asked. "I spend almost every weekend
with you anyway. This way you get some time to yourself." He looked over at
Keegan. "Maybe I can stay with you sometimes."

"Won't happen. But, I have to say that you're worse than I was when I was
thirteen," Keegan said.

The young teen grinned. "And that's why you like me so much."

"We'll see about your staying here sometimes," Natalie said.

"Okay, then let's at least have a party and go from there."

"Let's shop," Keegan said again. All he wanted right then was to move into
his own address. The way he saw it having his own place would look good
when he had his meeting with Child Protective Service next Tuesday about
how to gain custody of his son. Having some privacy for himself was another
benefit of the move. He liked Natalie and Drake, but he was tired of living
with somebody else. While Drake usually just dropped by on weekends, it
wasn't unusual for his mother to drop him off on a weekday for a day or
two.

Getting custody of Aiden was the primary goal in his life. He felt badly
about thinking the boy's name had been Allen, but he blamed that on his
brother Troy for not correcting his mistake. He knew that Troy had
intentionally allowed him to look stupid and he resented him for
it. Tuesday's meeting was going to be the first step in his taking his son
away from his faggot little brother and his pervert husband who had adopted
him. The kid has to be as unhappy as hell, he thought, and I'm the one to
take him away from that hell. His being with his father would be perfect.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 15

After two days of calm, Friday's lunch was like Tuesday's with everybody at
Aiden's table being a horny little boy. As was so often the case, Mason was
the catalyst, although this time Muddy was his target instead of
Miles. Muddy had become more sociable with his friends as he quit bragging
about being older. He even let Mason slide his hand inside of his pants and
fondle his cock under the table.

Their fun didn't last long since Autumn started hovering near their table,
clicking her tongue and making comments about naughty, nasty boys. The
truth was, Autumn enjoyed the naughtiness at the table, but she wanted the
boys to notice her instead of each other. Ed might be her boyfriend, but
boys were boys, especially Muddy, who looked so grown up to her. She also
hadn't yet given up on Aiden and Gordy, especially Gordy whom she wanted to
see naked.

When the boys got up from the lunch table and bused their trays and lunch
bags, Muddy made sure his friends knew that he would have cum if Autumn
hadn't been around. When class resumed after lunch, Mrs. Riley handed back
the English test they had taken on Wednesday. Aiden looked at his score and
flinched; he had 39 right out of 40. He had been expecting a perfect
score. Before even looking through his test he took a guess as to which
question he missed. When he flipped to the third page he saw that he had
guessed correctly as to where the incorrect answer was.

After school, Aiden was still sulking some over his missed question. While
Mrs. Riley almost slobbered over him congratulating him on having the best
score in the class, he was still upset. As far as he was concerned, the
English language wasn't fair, unlike his math test that morning. Everything
in math was just the way it should be—perfect. When he was wrong in
math, he was really wrong.

Aiden, Mason, Miles, and Muddy chatted on the school bus platform. Mason
and Muddy were both disappointed that Mason couldn't get Muddy off, thanks
to Autumn and her "stupid friends".

"I haven't made Muddy cum in so long. I wanted his stuff on my hand. I
really wanted to suck him off."

"You would have looked a little kinky kneeling under the table sucking on
Muddy's cock," Aiden told him.

"I know, that's why I didn't do it."

Aiden saw Mrs. Emerson give him the signal to board the bus. He said
good-bye to his friends and climbed onto his bus. The chat at the bus stop
made his dick half-hard, but it quickly drooped as he sat next to Kalie. He
needed to figure out a way for Kalie to see that he had a boner. He didn't
know why he felt that way since Kalie wasn't a boy. Besides, for Kalie to
see that he had a boner, he had to actually have one, which wasn't the case
right then.

As Aiden walked through the garage to the basement he thought about asking
his friends if they should let Kalie sit at their lunch table when there
was an empty seat. After all, Kalie was close to being a boy. She liked
sports, wore jeans, didn't have boobs, and most importantly, she didn't say
stupid things. He decided he'd shoot his idea past Gordy. Gordy actually
liked girls, except for Autumn, but he didn't go all gaga over them like Ed
and some of those guys did. That was a big reason Aiden liked his friends
so much, they were guys who liked guy things and didn't get silly over
girls, even if they liked girls.

Aiden went up to his room, took off his clothes and checked his email. He
only had two. One was from Mason, who said he wished he could have finished
Muddy, and the other was from Logan, who was just saying hi.

Grabbing his English test out of his backpack, he went downstairs. He took
his Hornblower book off of the book shelf in the reading room and sat in
his favorite chair to read. He had thought about jerking off, but couldn't
get into the mood.

He was reading "Hornblower and the Hotspur", the third in the series. The
reading wasn't easy and he often found himself stopping to write a word on
his wordlist for him to look up later. Sometimes he had to stop and look up
the word right away so he could figure out what was happening.

While he read his left hand kept finding his little cock and fondling
it. Without trying he gave himself an erection, but he made no serious
attempt at masturbation. He was naked in his favorite recliner, his left
hand on his boner, and his book on his lap when he heard the garage door
opening. Other than making sure the book was covering his erection he
didn't change anything.

"Hey, kiddo," Larry said as he walked into the room.

"Hi, daddy." When Aiden didn't get his usual hug, he knew that his dad knew
that he was naked.

"What are you reading?"

"More Hornblower."

"You do like your sea stories," Larry chuckled. "How was school?"

"It was okay. We got our English tests back."

"How did you do?"

"I missed one."

"Great job," Larry smiled.

"No, it sucked. I should have got a perfect score. The one I missed was
stupid."

"Do tell."

Aiden set his book on the table and grabbed his test. Since his boner was
now gone Aiden had no problem with his daddy seeing him naked. He opened
the test to the third page. "Look what I missed!" he grumped loudly. Larry
looked over his son's shoulder. "Syrup is a good <complement or compliment>
to pancakes," Aiden read out loud. Aiden had circled compliment. "How is
anybody supposed to remember that stuff? Why can't the word have just one
spelling and then you couldn't miss it? That is so stupid."

"English can be complicated and confusing," Larry said sagely.

"It should be like math. You don't have two different ways to write a
number. I mean, eighteen is eighteen and it's perfect, but complement is
not compliment and it's not perfect at all. If I ran the world it would be
perfect and everybody could spell."

"A great baseball philosopher once said. `If the world were a perfect
place, it wouldn't be.'"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Think about it for a while."

"Who is this great baseball philosopher dude?"

Larry sat on the couch and beckoned Aiden to sit next to him. Aiden parked
himself to the right of his daddy, not getting too close since he was
naked. He wished he had either put underpants on before he came down or had
brought a pair downstairs so he could cuddle up close to his daddy. "The
great baseball philosopher is Yogi Berra."

"Yogi Berra? You mean like the bear in the cartoons?"

"Nope, that is Yogi Bear. I'm talking about Yogi Berra. Look him up, you'll
be amazed by him."

"You could just tell me who he is," Aiden pointed out.

Larry put his arm around Aiden's shoulder. "We've had this discussion
before. You'll learn more by looking something up."

"You're hugging me and I'm naked," Aiden pointed out.

"It's not a full body hug," Larry said.

"I like it whatever it is. I like when you and dad hug me and touch me. I
don't like it when you mess up my hair, though."

Larry tousled Aiden's hair, causing him to squirm and duck his head
away. "Your hair wouldn't look right if it wasn't messed up."

"WHAT! EVER!" Aiden barked.

Larry irked him even more by laughing, but father's words soothed the
ten-year-old. "God, I love you, kiddo. You're a very special boy."

"But I didn't get a perfect score on my test."

"And I don't have a perfect coaching record, but the one I have is damned
good. Not being perfect doesn't subtract from how good I am and from how
good you are."

Aiden thought seriously for a moment and then said, "Just like my test
score is damned good." That netted another laugh from Larry. "Daddy, maybe
Yogi Bear is saying that if everything in my world was perfect for me, it
wouldn't be perfect for somebody else, so when the world is a perfect
place, it really isn't."

That earned Aiden another quick squeeze. "That shows some very good
thinking, son. Some very mature thinking."

"Thanks, daddy," Aiden said with genuine humility.

"And that dude's name is Yogi Berra, not Yogi Bear."

Aiden leaped up off the couch. "Not anymore," he squealed. He zipped out of
the room and up the stairs, giggling hysterically. Larry looked at the
empty doorway, counting his blessings at having had such a wonderful piece
of sunshine dropped into his life.

Twenty minutes later Aiden came back downstairs wearing a Seattle Sounders
t-shirt and a pair of red sweat pants. While he had been up in his room, he
finally took care of business and enjoyed a pleasant orgasm. His fantasy
when he got off was Mason taking his pants off and kneeling on the floor
under their lunchroom table, while Aiden was naked as Mason sucked him
off. Sometimes he imagined Kalie standing behind him watching.

Aiden found his daddy in the kitchen getting dinner started. "What's for
dinner?"

"Baby back ribs and baked potatoes that were prepared by your dad, last
night, and a salad that I will be preparing as soon as I get everything
into the oven."

"Yummy."

"When is Marty picking you up for lunch tomorrow?"

"Twelve-seventeen."

"Really? Is that what he told you, twelve-seventeen?"

"Yep, and he wouldn't tell me why that time, so don't ask."

When Phil got home, they enjoyed their dinner and family time together. The
basketball team was playing an away game at Harborview. Larry and Phil
elected to enjoy a rare night of just family instead of the two-hour trip
to Harborview and back.

That night, Phil read from Aiden's bedroom book. After he left, Aiden blew
a kiss to Horace, shut off the desk lamp, closed his eyes, and said how
grateful he was that he and his world weren't perfect. He wasn't sure why
he should be grateful about that, but it seemed to make sense.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 16

Aiden sat in his watching chair just before noon. He wanted to be ready in
case Marty came early. He was dressed in a green and white polo shirt with
the Seattle Mariner logo on the left breast and his best jeans. The
temperature was in the low forties and it was raining out. His hooded coat
was draped across the right arm of the couch. He was so excited he couldn't
sit still.

At twelve-fifteen he saw Marty's 4-Runner come up the road and turn into
the driveway. He grabbed his coat, yelled good-bye to his dads, and was out
the front door before the SUV came to a complete stop. Aiden hopped into
the middle seat and buckled in.

Marty looked back at Aiden. "Hey, sport, good to see you again. You could
have waited for me to get to the front door so I could give you a giant
hug."

"Give it to me when we eat. I'm hungry."

"Are you sure you're just ten? Your dads say you have an appetite like a
thirteen-year-old and I'd better buy you a big lunch."

"Well, they're right. I like to eat." Aiden pulled his phone out of his
pocket as Marty backed out of the driveway. "It's twelve-seventeen. If
you'd come to the door, then you'd be late now."

"And I would have never heard the end of it, right?"

"It's okay, nobody is perfect. `If the world were a perfect place, it
wouldn't be," Aiden quoted.

"That sounds like Yogi Berra," Marty said as he started down the highway.

"How do you know about Yogi Bear?"

"I study baseball history. If you are going to be good at what you do,
there is more than just doing it. You should also know the history and
background of what you are doing. I love studying baseball history. How do
you know about Yogi BERRA?"

"Daddy told me about him. I call him Yogi Bear because it makes daddy mad."

"Well, how about we call him Yogi Berra and show our respect for a great
player and a great man."

"Can I say he's smarter than the average player?" Aiden asked with a sly
grin.

"Or you can say he was smarter than the average manager," Marty told him.

"He was a manager, too?"

"As another great baseball philosopher once said, `You can look it up'."
Marty was referring to Yogi's old manager, Casey Stengel.

"I guess that means I really should go and look up Yogi BERRA."

As they started across the dam, Marty agreed with his young
protégé. "I think you should do it when you get home. I thought you
liked baseball."

"I love baseball," Aiden told him.

"Then act like it and work hard at all of it, including its history and
traditions."

Aiden sat quietly chagrined as Marty pulled into the downtown (such as it
was) section of Mayfield, parking near the Mayfield Café. Aiden didn't
like being chastised by his idol; he wanted to be perfect in Marty's eyes.

"Hey, cheer up, sport," Marty told Aiden as they exited the 4-Runner. "Just
do what you should have done after you talked to your dad, and life is
good."

"But..."

"I don't know what kind of excuse you're trying to conjure up, but forget
about it. Spend the energy on doing what you should have done."

Aiden nodded as they walked across the street and toward the café. He
reached up and placed his hand on Marty's shoulder, soaking in his idol's
strength and his love. Yogi's quote on perfection came to Aiden's mind and
he remembered that all he could do is work to be better, not to be
perfect. And then, who knew, maybe he would be perfect until he wasn't.

The Mayfield Café was busy with a Saturday lunch crowd. There were a lot
of out of town customers as travelers on Highway 12 came into town looking
for lunch. The veteran travelers knew that the Mayfield Café was one of
the best places on the highway for lunch—far better than the fast food
places that had sprung up in Kentburg.

Marty was told the wait would only be ten or fifteen minutes. He and Aiden
sat on a bench near the entrance.

"I've never seen this place so crowded," Aiden said.

"Nobody comes here anymore. It's too crowded."

"Huh? That doesn't make sense."

"I bet you can guess who said it, though."

Aiden flashed his signature grin. "Yogi BERRA. So it doesn't have to make
any sense at all."

"At least not until you think about it," Marty told him.

Aiden loved the lunch. Most of the Mayfield residents eating in the café
recognized Marty, but they all were polite and didn't bug him and Aiden
much beyond saying hello and wishing Marty good luck when spring training
started. Aiden felt proud to be having lunch with a celebrity like
Marty. He had a BLT which, while not as good as his dad Phil made, was
delicious. Marty had a French dip with fries.

"Why 12:17?" Aiden asked as they munched on their lunch.

"Why not 12:17?" Marty asked in return.

"Huh?"

"I had to give you a time I'd pick you up and that time sounded as good as
any."

"But you gave a time that meant you'd have to be perfect or you'd be
wrong. You could've said around twelve or something like that."

"You were ready for me right on time weren't you?"

Aiden nodded as he took a bite of his sandwich.

"Then I guess using that time worked."

Aiden nodded and sipped his soft drink. "So, Marty, I've been thinking," he
said after taking another bite of his lunch.

"Thinking can be good, or it can be dangerous."

Aiden ignored Marty's remark and went on. "I guess I'm supposed to improve
myself and always try to get better, but I'll never get to be perfect,
except maybe sometimes, only I really won't be perfect."

"You sound like my AA book," Marty grinned. "It preaches progress, not
perfection."

"Yep, that's what I just said." Aiden then quickly changed the subject, as
he so often did. "Will I get to sleep in your bed with you on my
overnight?" he asked conspiratorially, making sure nobody was trying to
overhear their conversation.

"Don't count on it. The couch folds out, you'll be fine."

"Will Rich be there?"

"He'll be staying at his parents' that night. It's just you and me, sport."

"I sleep with my dads sometimes," Aiden said.

"Do I look like either one of your dads?" Marty asked with a grin.

"Well, no."

"There you have it."

Aiden didn't totally accept Marty's answer, but he knew there was nothing
he could do about it right then. "I'm bringing Horace with me," he told
Marty. "He can be with Mortimer." Horace had a way of opening his dads'
bedroom door at home. He hoped that he would have the same effect in
Marty's bedroom.

After lunch, Marty took Aiden home and accompanied him into the house. "I
never got my hug," Aiden told Marty.

"So you didn't." The big baseball player took the slightly built little
blond boy and gave him a tight, manly squeeze. "I love you a lot, little
bro," Marty said quietly.

"I love you, too, big bro."

Phil was in the living room as the two hugged in the foyer. "Are you guys
coming in, or are you just going to hug all day?"

Marty greeted Phil and got a hug from behind when Larry entered the living
room. "Dang, coach, you're a sneaky devil," Marty laughed.

"Just trying to maintain my imprint on you," Larry told him.

Phil, Larry, and Marty chatted for a while, mostly about baseball. Aiden
listened to them with full concentration, fascinated by how much they
knew. He even heard Yogi Berra's name mentioned. Marty told Larry and Phil
he would pick Aiden up at school for the overnight and bring him home
Thursday morning.

"I think the Centralia Steak House sounds good for dinner after we work out
at the batting cages, don't you Aiden?"

Aiden's eyes lit up. "We're going to the cages? Awesome. And I hope Peter
is our waiter, he's the best waiter in the world." His smile dropped for a
moment when he said, "But we'll be all sweaty and you'll be all smelly."

"Speak for yourself bro. You guys probably never needed it, but they do
have a small locker area with showers at the cages. We'll be fine."

As soon as Marty left, Aiden ran upstairs to his computer. It was time to
make progress and learn about Yogi Berra.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 19

<Keegan>

Keegan glared at the Child Protective Services social worker. As far as
Keegan was concerned the man was a pompous ass who had no intention of
providing even the slightest bit of help.

"So, I want to make sure one more time that I have this right," Keegan
growled. "There is no doubt about the fact that I am the boy's father,
right?"

"That is correct Mr. Miller." Dylan Lee was a veteran social worker with
CPS. As a result, he had learned how to be a patient man when his job
required him to be confronted by assholes, which was all too often. As far
as Dylan was concerned, Keegan Miller had placed himself securely in the
asshole category.

"But even though I am Aiden's father, I can't contact him in any way,
right?"

"As I explained to you, Mr. Miller, the court has terminated your parental
rights, setting down some rules that must be followed for you to see your
son. On top of that, the court has issued a no-contact order—a
restraining order, to so speak, since you tried to contact Aiden without
the permission of the court or of the boy." And I've told you this about
half a dozen times now, you moron, Dylan thought.

"Then what the fuck is your job? Aren't you supposed to consider my rights
as a parent?"

"The rights of the child come first with us." Dylan sounded a bit more
officious than he wanted to.

"Did you know that you're a pompous ass?"

"Mr. Miller, I am forbidden by law and by professional ethics from telling
you Aiden's location. I have given you the information you will need to
contact the court. Only they can change things. Until then, you are not to
contact the boy. Now, you have been rude and insulting and I am going to
ask you to leave my office immediately."

"Or what, you'll call the police?"

"That's my plan."

Keegan stood up from his chair and stared down at the social worker. "I AM
getting my boy back and there is nothing you or any fucking court can do
about it. He is living with two perverts instead of his father, and you
don't give a shit about that. The child comes first," Keegan spat
out. "What a crock of bullshit that is."

Dylan picked up his phone and started to punch in a number.

"You don't need to call anybody asshole. Just remember whose side you
should have been on when the shit hits the fan."

Keegan turned and stomped out of the office. Dylan completed his call,
which was answered by a sheriff's deputy downstairs. He instructed the
deputy to make sure that Keegan left the building and gave a quick
description of Keegan. The deputy got up and headed for the elevators.

When Keegan got out of his elevator on the first floor, he saw the deputy
looking him over, and knew exactly why he was there. While he wanted to
flip the officer the bird, he held his head up high and walked out of the
front entrance with an attitude that said that he was better than any of
the dumb shits working in the building.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 20

<Aiden and Marty>

Marty was waiting for Aiden at the parents' pickup area in front of
Lakeview School. Aiden flashed Marty the grin that always warmed the young
man's heart. Aiden greeted Marty with a boyish, "Hi, Marty," and a fist
bump as he scrambled into middle seats in Marty's 4-Runner.

"Hey, little bro. Are you ready for a big day?"

"I got everything I need in my backpack."

"Which one?" Marty laughed as he pulled out of the driveway. "You're
carrying two of them."

"Well, one's for school and one's for today. Kalie helped me carry the
school one off the bus."

"Kalie? I haven't heard of Kalie? Is she your girlfriend?"

"No way! She is just my friend. I can have a friend who's a girl, right?"

"Yes you can. I had a few of my own."

"So there."

As they reached Highway 12 and headed for Centralia, Aiden got involved in
chattering and Marty listened with patience and amusement to the young boy
he had grown to love so much.

"I really didn't need my school backpack, because we hardly did anything in
school anyway. I could have put my notebook in my overnight backpack. I
have an overnight bag, too, but it's too big for my locker and I couldn't
carry it around school, so I used my spare backpack. And, you didn't
correct me."

"Correct you how?" Marty asked, pleased to have a chance to say something.

"I said I got everything in my backpack and I should have said I have
everything."

"You slipped that one right by me."

"Did you play basketball in school?"

"I did. I was okay at it. Of the four sports I played as a kid, basketball
and soccer were the ones I wasn't really great at. Football and baseball
were my best sports."

"Especially baseball," Aiden said. "That's the one you're a pro at. Do you
think I could be a pro some day?"

"I think if you work hard at your game you have a chance to be very
good. Working hard at your game is the thing that you can control. The rest
will take care of itself."

Aiden was quiet for a while as he chewed on what Marty had said. It wasn't
the first time Marty had given him that bit of philosophy, and it wasn't
going to be the last time. Marty knew that as Aiden grew up he would need
to hear things like that often. Good thoughts and decisions don't always
stick in a young adolescent's head and quite often some outside glue is
needed.

"You make me think too much sometimes, just like my dads," Aiden finally
complained.

Marty laughed for the next couple of miles. "Bro, that's the best
compliment you can ever give me."

"That you're like my dads?"

"Exactly."

When they arrived at the Centralia cages, Don, the owner, came out to greet
them as soon as he heard Marty had arrived. He'd seen the reservation and
knew to expect him. "Hey, Marty, welcome. It's always good to have you
here."

"It's good to be here, Don, although you didn't always think that back when
I was in school."

"That was only because I thought you'd wear out my pitching machines," the
owner laughed. He looked down at Aiden and said, "I see you brought your
little friend with you." The owner was pleased when Aiden shook his hand
instead of trading fist bumps.

"I'm his little bro," Aiden said, "but his big friend."

"Oh?"

"Yep, Marty is my big bro and he says I have a big heart, so I might be his
little bro, but I'm his big friend,"

"Marty's a great guy and don't you ever forget it."

Aiden went to the locker room to change. Marty already had his workout
sweats on so he and Don got everything ready for the hitting workout.  The
afternoon went too quickly for Aiden. It had been almost a month since the
last time he'd hit at the batting cage, but he soon got into a
rhythm. After a few reminders and tips from Marty he was beating a steady
tattoo of line drives.

When it came time for Aiden to take a rest, Don's assistant, Carlos Perez,
fed the pitching machine for Marty. The solid thunk of the wooden bat
striking the baseball was like music to the ten-year-old's ears, a much
different sound than the ping of his aluminum bat. Aiden couldn't wait to
make that kind of sound with a baseball bat.

Aiden and Marty finished in the fieldhouse fielding ground balls hit to
them by Carlos. When they finally were finished for the day, Aiden was hot
and sweaty and very happy.

There were four showerheads in the small locker room. Aiden watched as
Marty started to undress. Off came Marty's shoes and socks, then his
Mariner practice shirt, followed by his workout sweats; he was now wearing
only a jock. Aiden pulled off his Mariner t-shirt. After it came off he
could see Marty again. His jaw dropped open when he saw his idol fully
naked for the first time.

Marty's sculpted body looked like how a boy in ancient Greek would have
imagined a god would look like. His muscular chest, with a fine coating of
hair, his strong arms, his solid ass, his low hanging balls, his thick
pubic hair and treasure trail, and a cut cock that hung around four inches.

"Take a picture, it will last longer," Marty said.

"That is so lame and so old," Aiden replied as he pulled off his sweats and
briefs, making him as naked as his big bro.

"But still true," Marty laughed. Marty took a bottle of body soap out of
his bag. "You can share with me. This stuff is way better than what you'll
find in the shower."

As he stood next to Marty, Aiden suddenly felt inadequate. His body was
hairless, his cock was tiny, his balls didn't hang, and he didn't have a
muscular body. "Do you think my body looks okay?" Aiden asked with
surprising shyness.

"Bro, I wish I'd had a body as nice as yours when I was ten," Marty
answered.

"For real?"

"I wasn't nearly as active as I should have been. I was in okay shape for a
kid, but you have gotten yourself into excellent shape."

"Will I ever look like you?"

"I hope not. I hope you grow up looking just like you're supposed to."

Aiden grinned as he watched Marty wash himself. He grabbed Marty's bottle
and did the same. Marty washed Aiden's back, but didn't touch his sweet
little ass, and Aiden washed Marty's back, avoiding the same area. Aiden's
legs started shaking when he reached up and washed the big athlete's back;
this was the most perfect shower he could ever remember.

After the two of them were dry and dressed, Aiden wondered if he would ever
see Marty naked again. He knew Marty might see him naked, simply because he
was often naked at home and who knew when Marty might come to visit. Aiden
was wearing the green button down shirt he'd worn to school, a V-neck
sweater with a Mariners logo on it, and a pair of Dockers. Marty was
wearing a red and white striped long-sleeved shirt and a pair of
slacks. They were taking their dinner "date" at the Steak House seriously.

"I noticed you didn't bring Horace along," Marty observed as he climbed
into the 4-Runner.

"There was no place for him at school and I didn't want to just stuff him
into my locker or have somebody mess with him," Aiden said. "So, I left him
up on his shelf. I think he misses seeing Mortimer."

"Then it might be a good idea for us to head out to your house and pick him
up before going to my house."

"That would make Horace happy," Aiden grinned.

"Or I could do this..." When Aiden saw what Marty had in mind, he approved,
because as much as he wanted Horace to be with him that night, he didn't
really want to go home to get him. In his mind, going home would upset the
continuity of his time with his big brother.

When they arrived at the Steak House, Peter the waiter was the person to
greet them. "I saw the reservation and knew I had to be here for my
favorite customers," Peter said.

Peter seated them and then brought ice tea for Marty and lemonade for
Aiden. He knew what they wanted without being told.

"So, is this a date?" Peter asked.

"Nope, it's two bros going out for dinner," Aiden said. "Marty can't date
because he is married."

"What about you, can you date?"

"I can have a bro dinner, which isn't a date." Marty listened to Aiden with
an amused smile on his face. His little bro was handling things quite
maturely.

"Do you have a girlfriend yet?" Peter asked Aiden.

"Not yet, and I don't have a boyfriend either. But, I do have some best
friends, and Gordy is my best friend of all."

"Well, when you get a girlfriend or," Peter looked over at Marty, "a
boyfriend, I want to be the first to know. Dessert on your first date here
will be on me."

"Yippee. I'll tell you for sure when it happens."

Marty and Aiden gave Peter their orders. Aiden ordered a petite steak,
medium rare, mashed potatoes and a dinner salad of mixed greens. Marty
ordered the same thing, except he had potatoes au gratin. As they ate,
Marty told Aiden that he would not be playing winter ball in Venezuela.

"The guy who set that up made a mistake. I guess he's not with the Mariners
anymore."

"So he got in big trouble?"

"I don't know. The front office doesn't tell the ballplayers all of the
inner workings of the ball club. All I know is that the three of us who
were talked to about winter ball will be going back to the rookie camp in
Peoria." Peoria, Arizona was the site of the Mariners spring training
complex which they shared with the Padres. "That was where we were supposed
to be all along."

"When do you have to go?" Aiden asked.

"Right after the first of the year."

"So we might be able to go to the batting cages again."

"If there is time after you get back from your big trip."

"There will be. Maybe I can bring Gordy and some of my friends along, too."

Marty finished chewing his steak. "You mean you're willing to share me with
your friends?" he chuckled.

"Just the cages, not the shower. Only I get to see you naked, so there."

"Why do I have a feeling you're going to turn into a big horn dog really
soon."

"Does that mean I'm horny and have boners all the time?"

"Something like that, but more like the way you've described your friend
Mason."

"Nobody gets that horny." Marty almost spit the food in his mouth out he
was laughing so hard after that comment.

After a dessert of apple pie ala mode, Marty paid the check and left a nice
tip for Peter. "Thanks for bringing your non-dates," Peter told them as
Marty and Aiden left. "You guys have fun tonight."

"We will, but not the kind you're thinking of," Marty said outside of
Aiden's hearing range.

"Well, a guy can dream," Peter grinned. "In three or four years he's going
to be one hot dude—kind of like you were at that age and are now."

Marty laughed, gave Peter a wave, and nudged Aiden out of the door. As
Peter turned and greeted some customers who had just arrived, he was hoping
his raging erection was not too evident.  "What were you guys talking
about?" Aiden asked as they got into the 4-Runner.

"We were talking about Peter's fertile imagination. He's a really good guy,
you know."

"I know. He's my all-time favorite waiter."

"Mine too. I've known him since I was around thirteen or fourteen."

"Whoa, that's a long time."

When they were about fifteen minutes out of Mayfield, Marty's phone rang
through the car's Bluetooth. Aiden could see on the dash readout that it
was Jeffrey.

"Mission accomplished," Jeffrey said. "The big donkey is now watching over
the old teddy bear."

Marty's phone call before dinner had been to ask Jeffrey to pick up Horace
and bring him to Marty's bedroom. Since Marty had already promised Jeffery
a private chat, Jeffrey was more than happy to run the errand. Jeffrey had
loved Marty since he was a little seven-year-old and was very fond of
Aiden, so he would have done it for nothing.

After getting to Marty's apartment beside the Bednarzyk house, Aiden and
Marty got comfortable. Aiden stripped down to his red and blue briefs and a
long, white t-shirt. Marty wore a t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts. The two
were soon involved in playing a video Major League baseball game with teams
consisting of all-time historic players. One of Aiden's first picks was
Yogi Berra as his catcher.

Marty was leading 5-0 going into the bottom of the ninth. He was impressed
by Aiden's play, but his experience had him winning the game fairly easily.

"It doesn't look good for you, bro," Marty said as he brought in his Hall
of Fame closer, Bruce Sutter.

"Remember what the baseball philosopher Yogi Berra says," Aiden told him
with a serious look of concentration of his face, "'it ain't over `till
it's over.'"

"You looked up Yogi Berra, did you?"

"Yep, that's why I picked him. He was a really good catcher and he won lots
of World Series and is in the Hall of Fame and he said lots of really
different and interesting stuff. So, don't think you have an easy win until
you win it."

With that Aiden chipped away at Marty's lead until the score was 5-3 and
Marty removed his closer for Tom Seaver with runners on first and
second. Seaver had been a starting pitcher in his career, but in video game
baseball you went with the best you had. The move didn't help because
Aiden's next batter, who just happened to be Yogi Berra, hit the first
pitch from Marty's new pitcher for a three-run homer and a 6-5 win.

"Yogi was a really good philosopher," Aiden grinned as he accepted Marty's
high five. Marty was impressed not so much by his little bro's coming back
to win as in his competitiveness even when things weren't going well for
him. Aiden didn't whine or complain, he just played with the idea that
maybe this time Yogi was right.

"Yogi was right and he got the winning hit. So, now it's over because it's
over," Aiden gushed.

They then talked about baseball and Aiden's upcoming trip and Marty's
upcoming return to Arizona and suddenly it was time to take care of
brushing, flossing, washing, pissing, and getting ready for bed. "Are you
sure I can't sleep with you?" Aiden asked as Marty pulled out the sofa bed.

"Positive. And don't ask me why because we've had the discussion."

"Sometimes you're meaner than my dads," Aiden sulked. "But they let me
sleep with them when I want to."

"Like I told you before, I'm not one of your dads."

"Yeah, you've got all your hair on your head," Aiden giggled.

"Yeah, I noticed Coach Phil is starting to get a little thin in back."

"He needs to glue Lance's cowlick there," Aiden giggled, "then they'd both
be perfect."

Since Marty had already put the bedding on the mattress, the sofa bed was
ready for Aiden. Aiden took off his t-shirt, more so Marty could look at
him without his shirt on than for comfort, and went under the covers.

"I guess your dads tuck you in and read to you."

"Yep, they do it most nights."  "I wish my dad had read to me at night when
I was your age," Marty said wistfully. As he spoke, the memories of how he
used to read to Jeffery flooded back to him.  "But you and your dad are
friends now, right?"

"Yeah, we are sport. I should know better than to regret the past, since
there is nothing I can do about it."

"Yep, because if we could do something about the past, I'd have my mom come
back."

The sadness in the room lasted only a moment, but in its own way it
strengthened the bond between the young boy and the young man who was his
hero. Marty kissed Aiden on the forehead, knowing that Coach Larry or Coach
Phil did that every night. He went into the bathroom to take a piss, and
then went into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. He looked at
Horace and Mortimer sitting contentedly next to each other on top of his
dresser. He smiled at them—the two stuffed animals symbolized the love
he and Aiden had for each other.

"Good night, Mortimer. Good Night, Horace." More than ever Marty hoped he
and Rich would find a way to adopt a boy in the not too distant future.

He started to pull off his t-shirt. He always slept naked, as did
Rich. Then he remembered what Aiden's dads had told him. "No matter how
much you tell him not to come into your bed, don't be surprised if he shows
up," Larry had said. "Even after 15 months and therapy he has abandonment
issues that will take time to heal. When he gets lonely he needs to sleep
with Phil and me. I will understand if it happens and you ask him to leave,
but I think you will let him stay because of how much you love and
understand him."  Before he climbed into bed, Marty sent a text to his
husband: "Good night, my love. Sleep well—I love you."  Rich texted
back: "I love you too – sweet dreams".  Marty pulled off his gym shorts
and went under the covers wearing a t-shirt and boxers. After Aiden's
comment regarding his mother, he decided he wouldn't be at all surprised if
the little blond opened the door and came into bed with him.

Aiden tossed and turned. The room felt empty. He had never slept alone away
from home before. He stopped turning and stared at the ceiling. He said
that he was grateful to have Marty as his big bro. He turned back onto his
side and knew from experience that he wasn't going to sleep and knew what
he needed to do right then.

He pulled off his covers, found his discarded t-shirt, and put it on. He
walked over to Marty's bedroom door and opened it. In the dim light he made
out the lump on the bed that was Marty. He had seen where Horace and
Mortimer were sitting. Marty was surprised to see Aiden go over to the
dresser and pick up the two stuffed animals.

Carrying Horace and Mortimer to the bed he asked Marty if he could please
sleep with him. "I can't sleep," Aiden said. Marty didn't mention that he'd
only tried for five minutes. "Horace and Mortimer will sleep with us and
make sure everything is okay."

Marty patted the bed. "Come on in," he whispered.

Aiden went under the covers and snuggled up to his idol. "Marty, you
remember what Yogi Berra said about a perfect world?"

"Yes."

"Well just because the world isn't perfect, that doesn't mean a day can't
be perfect and today was perfect. Thank you. I am grateful you are my big
bro and my friend and now with you and Mortimer and Horace I don't feel
like I'm alone."

As he had told Aiden to do, every night before falling asleep Marty found
something to be grateful for. On this night he was grateful for having
Aiden in his life. He was grateful to have the trust and love of this
beautiful boy. He stopped a moment and then thought, There is really more
than that—I am grateful to have this beautiful person in my life.

Marty gave the boy a squeeze. "I love you, young master Aiden." Marty was
not ashamed of the tears that dripped onto his pillow.

"I love you more," the boy whispered and within seconds he was sound asleep
surrounded by the strength and love of a powerful young man who himself had
not long ago been an angry and desperately lonely little boy.

Next: Pillow Talk