Date: Fri, 3 Apr 2009 10:46:30 -0500 From: Andy West Subject: Asleep On The Beach Chapter 29 Asleep on the Beach Chapter 29 Home At Last Disclaimer: Please be advised that under aged youths are advised to not read this material, and indeed doing so may be illegal where you are -- so check your local laws first as there are sexual encounters ahead by youngsters in this story. If this offends you, perhaps you should not have read this far, and I certainly would not advise continuing further. Everyone else is welcome. Any comments are welcome: prompt and courteous replies from: andyoutwest@live.com Chapter 29 Home at Last Rain streaks across the passenger window colliding with droplets that formed on the class had me mesmerized. Mixed emotions about going home combined with the dull and grey skies had lulled me into a deep funk. The gentle rocking motion of the car also served to deep my mood. My mind was rife with flashbacks of being beaten up a few weeks ago and coming home; of the sights and smell of the barn as Jason and I rushed the bastard who hurt us all; of the sound of poor Brant crying on the dunes and the horror in his eyes when we discovered him naked there on the beach. Memories of my own room, my own bed...the safety and comfort of home...the flashes of walking down the stairs in my flannel PJs and coming into the kitchen welcomed by smells of freshly brewed coffee and breakfast waiting -- these memories of normality, safety, of...of...well...of home -- warred with the tormenting thoughts of the evil I had seen and witnessed. I could feel my lips quiver at the thought of a fourteen-year-old boy having to know so much evil. "I will not cry," I told myself as a pressed my quivering lips together and swallowed hard to force the feelings back under control. "Nearly there," Dad said, rescuing me from my own overwhelming thoughts. His calm and gentle voice had a soothing affect on me. His voice was manly. Rugged, but gentle at the same time. His tone was of peacefulness, a serene strength. It made me feel good, and I was grateful for the distraction from my wandering mind. The sound of the windshield wipers somehow though, dominating my consciousness. "What do you want to do, Buddy?" Dad asked. I suppose I had a faraway look or a blankness about me when he looked back after he received no immediate response. "Do you want to eat something first? Watch some TV? Or take a nap?" Oh. Now I get it. "Umm..." I stumbled for the clarity I needed to decide, "I guess I am kinda hungry, Dad." I said, a smile breaking across my face. I knew his response before he said it. "Hungry! How'd I figure that...you're ALWAYS hungry!" He said with great pride and pleasure. I was quietly mouthing the last three words to myself. Yup. I knew he'd say it. His predictability was comforting too. I suppose there is something to be said for having family in times like these. "Leave the boy alone," Mom piped in, teasingly swatting Dad on the shoulder. She turned to me and patting me with affection on the face. "What shall we have then, Dear? What are you hungry for?" I shrugged my shoulders...in truth, it didn't matter. I really wasn't sure I WAS hungry...but somehow I wanted to feel the normality of Mom cooking and Dad and I waiting for the food while the smells drove us crazy hungry. I suppose my mind was attempting to use home for a safe-haven from the torments that plagued me just below the surface of my consciousness. Mom didn't press me...I think she could see my mind reeling with thoughts. A quick touch of my face again with her soft hand and she turned back to the front, just as Dad turned into the drive. Home at last. I'm not sure what I expected. Tears did well up in my eyes just by being back in the driveway. Damn. I hate all this crying...will it ever stop? I blinked the damned things back. Not gonna cry. Dad got out and made his way around to my door to open it and help me out, after first telling me not to try to get out own my own. He leaned inside the car and as I swung my legs out and prepared to get on my feet, Dad was leaning inches from me -- face to face. I looked up into his eyes, and watched him mouth, "I love you, Son," voicelessly. I nodded a tiny bit in response, fearing to say a thing and allowing an opportunity for unwanted tears. The rain has eased slightly to a soft drizzle...somehow the cool drops felt comforting as I felt them upon my skin and clothing. Dad sipped his hands under my armpits and pulled me up to my feet with surprising agility and swiftness. Dad really is a powerful man...I'm glad he isn't mad at me. Once upright, Dad held on to me to make sure I was stable. I was surprised at the soreness from the short car ride. It was like I had not even been forced to rise and sit and walk a million times at the hospital before they would agree to let me come home. That short interval between here and there was enough to make me sore all over. Dad seemed to anticipate this. I guess this is why he wouldn't let me try to get out on my own power. Dad's arms slipped from under my pits where he had them to stabilize me at first, and quickly engulfed me in a huge bear-hug, burying my face deep into his chest. God. How'd he know I needed a hug just then? I mean...how? Really! All I know is I needed a hug, and he was there with it. And somehow, a hug sends the brain a message of comfort and love. I can never figure out how so simple a gesture can be so freakin comforting...no matter...it works nearly every time it is tried. It did this time, for sure. After he'd held me a few moments in his embrace, he took my shoulders firmly and guided me from the car to the porch. As with my broken ribs from before, I can tell you that you just have no idea of how much an abdominal wound hurts when you try to go up steps! Jeez. We managed it, Dad and me. On the porch, Mom had gotten out of the car ahead of us and already had the door unlocked and open for us. The carpet, the wood-floored entrance, the stairs leading up to my room...all the sights and familiarity swept over me. I was really home. We kicked off our wet shoes leaving them at the doorway. Dad kept me moving, leading me directly to the kitchen. He said there was no need to have to get up twice from a chair. "I don't know how many of those you got left in you today, Buddy!" I laughed at his corniness. I had just sat down good at the kitchen table when the door bell rang. The sound was inviting and chilling at the same time. A sense of dread swept through me like a chill wind, causing me to shutter. This was not missed by my Father, who was standing directly behind me. He placed his hand on my shoulder and whispered, "I'll go see who it is. Don't worry, nothing bad is going to happen to you now, Buddy. You're home. It'll be okay." I nodded my understanding as he went to the front room to see who was calling on us. I heard the door open, and a bit of shuffling and commotion. Quickly I turned...no...not quickly...hurt too damned much to be quick...I turned toward the front room to see what was happening. Instinctively, I started to rise. Through the cased-opening of the kitchen bounded in Jason and Brant! Holy Cow! That was fast! My eyes lingered past their approach, searching for Lenny...he wouldn't' be there...but I still looked for him. "Hey, Liam!" Jason shouted as he ran to greet me, "Welcome home!" Somehow, better judgment stopped him from tackling me out of my chair! Fuck...I would'a killed him if he'd done that. Brant was immediately upon is heels, eager to make my home-coming special. Jason was hugging me, and Brant was joining him...both were jumping up and down and acting like little school girls screaming at a Mariah Carie concert. I loved it! After all the excitement of my boys fawning over me and going crazy, I noticed that Jason's parents both were standing in the doorway holding hands. I guess tragedy has a way of healing superficial wounds. Brant's Mother was standing behind them watching our antics. She had an odd look of satisfaction on her face. Time and trouble can be amazing things I guess. A flash of memory of her walking out the door when she first heard about how Jason felt about me crowded my mind...so different from the look I saw on her face this day. I forced the memory away. "Stay here in the present. Don't go backwards," I told my mind. Mom and Dad pushed their way into the room and invited everyone to come on in and sit for lunch. The ladies all set about the task of preparing a feast, while we men sat around the table and talked. Dad got Jim a cup of coffee...he offered some to us boys but we were too far into our excitement to stop for adult beverages. Jason sat right up beside me on my right, while Brant closed in on my left side and stood leaning against me. I let my left arm slip around his waist and he seemed to snuggle into me, his elbow resting on my shoulder. Jason and I were holding hands too. It seems that Brant and Jason heard I was coming home today and they worked it out to have Brant come over. Then they sat in the front room watching out the window anxiously awaiting our car to pull up. I was so happy they were here with me. Jason still had greenish-black eyes, but he had a crown on his broken tooth, and the cut on his lips was nearly gone. Except for a real angry looking bruise on Brant's upper arm just showing halfway under where his sleeve ended, you couldn't tell by looking at him he'd just undergone such horrid brutality. Well...except for the hauntingly hollow eye sockets, and the dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep and stress...and the nervous way he clung to me and Jason...and the way he wouldn't let anyone stand behind him... I guess you could tell. My heart ached at the site of the haunting look in his eyes. Brant had been such a happy boy before. Lenny and Brant made each other so happy, and Lenny had just begun getting Brant to put the past abuse from his own brother slowly behind him. I wondered how all this new shit was going to set him back emotionally. Like I said, it made my heart ache just looking at him. Lenny's absence from our table was palpably on each of our minds. Lenny hadn't been well enough to leave the hospital yet. He was still in the room next door to me when I left this morning from the hospital. Dad and Mom waited out in the hallway as I went in to check on him and tell him good bye. Approaching his bed, I could see he had been awake watching cartoon network, but had closed his eye and drifted off to sleep. The volume completely muted on the TV control at his head. His left eye (the one away from me) was still heavily bandaged and gauzed up. The bandages still wrapped around his head in typical mummy fashion. His frail small body looked even tinier in the sterile environment of the hospital bed. (I don't know where the name gurney comes from...I always expect to see a Jersey cow when they say that word.) As I reached his bed, I suppose my shuffling feet awoke him, because his right eye popped open with suddenness, and a sweet Lenny-caliber smile warmed his face. "Hey," Lenny whispered with his even deeper voice. Sleep, and who knows what else had caused his already low and gruff voice to be even more gravely. But his smile was still radiant. It made me smile in return. "You about to leave?" he inquired, attempting to sit up. I placed a restricting hand upon his chest, letting him know I didn't want him to sit up, so he settled back into his bedding. "Yes," I whispered. His own soft and quietness prompting me to be equally quiet. I took his hand in mine and brought it to my lips, kissing the back of it, then holding it to my cheek. With my other hand I reached out and tenderly to pat his chest. "They tell me you can probably come home soon too," I offered. "Mhmm," he nodded in agreement. "Daddy was here just now and told me you was leaving. He said the Doctors want the swelling to come down in my eye socket some more so they can prepare to get me a glass eye." My heart skipped several beats at the thought. I started to say something...I don't have a clue what pearls of wisdom I could have given him just then. But, he nodded me into silence. I closed my mouth and looked down at him. "Don't worry Liam," he said, "I'll be the only guy in school who can take his eye out and make the girls scream!" A devilish grin on his face caused me to laugh at him out loud. "Only you would think of it," I teased while gently nudging his arm. I was afraid to touch him anywhere. There was hardly a place on him that wasn't a bruise, cut, tear, scrap, or burn. Never in my life had I seen someone so battered. Dad poked his head in the door and said we had to get going. I acknowledged him wordlessly, then turned back to Lenny. "Oh Lenny," I cried, holding his hand to my face like a worry doll. "I just can't believe this has happened. It is like a horrible nightmare and I can't get it to stop playing over and over in my head. I...I wish it had been me that got taken instead..." The tears couldn't help but sill over and down my face onto his bedding. Lenny squeezed my hand, and with his deep husky voice, that sexy deep voice on such a tiny little boy, he said, "It wasn't a nightmare Liam. It really happened. And, if...if I didn't have you and Brant, and Jason to help my mind focus...I think he might have killed me. But, I kept hearing your voice. You called me back. I think I was going away...but you called me back." He paused a moment. Tears were falling down the right side of his face. I took my free hand and wiped them for him. "You saved me, Liam. You called me back when I was about to go beyond coming back." He swallowed hard, then looked straight up at the ceiling. "Lee," he said softly (he had started calling me Lee...a name no one else ever thought of calling me...it was a special name for me he used to make me all his own), "Lee, I am not going to let him win. I am not going to let that man make me afraid, make me hate, or make me sad for myself. I won't let him win. "You and Jason, and Ray...you gave up your very lives almost to save me. I'm not going to let a missing eyeball make me different." "I know," I comforted him, "I know you mean that...but Len, he did a lot to hurt you...things will take a lot of time to heal...they may never heal completely in your heart." Dad and I had talked already about this. While I had never been raped, I had at least suffered great pain at someone else's hand. So I think I was able to get some sort of idea what he might be going through...just a little bit anyway. I was trying. Lenny shook his head, then looked back up to the ceiling. Slowly his smile returned...that radiant beautiful smile. He turned to look at me again. "No. WE win, Liam Neilson, WE win. Not him." I had never ever witnessed such bravery, such determination. He was so small, so frail...but so huge in stature. All around him people were on pins and needles, but he wasn't afraid. He had more guts than a battalion of soldiers. I loved him. He was braver than me, and I loved him for it. ~~00~~0~~00~~ "Hey," Jason whispered to me as he squeezed m hand, leaning in to me in a conspiratorial manner, "lets blow this joint and go to the Bahamas!" He raised his eyebrows a couple of times in a poor imitation of Grouch Marks. I giggled. Jason could always get me to laugh. "No?" he whispered at my laugh, "Okay...lets at least go up stairs. I want to be alone with you." I looked quickly to my left at Brant, now seated in the chair, but he had it so close to me he was practically sitting on my lap. Jason understood the dilemma. "Yea," Jason whispered in my right ear, "Bring Shrimp there with us...let's goooooo!" And with that he stood, pushing the chair away from the table, and with my hand still interlocked in his pulled me up to a standing position. Brant, of course instinctively stood with us, and like a boy-caravan, we headed out the kitchen doorway toward the stairs. I guess the parental units knew we were ready for some boy time alone, because not a single word was said to either of us as we padded in our sock clad feet out the door. At the stair landing a dread swept over me...god...I hated the thought of climbing those stairs. Jason had a plan though. He dropped my hand and dashed to the living room grabbing a throw-pillow off the love-seat. Bounding back to me and Brant at the stairs, he put the pillow in my midsection and took my arm and positioned it to hold the pillow to myself. Jason read my quizzical look. "They made my cousin hold a pillow to his stomach when he had to get up, cough, sneeze, or stuff like that after she had surgery down there once. He told me it helped a lot." "Oh," was all I could muster. So, I clutched the pillow, and Brant took the lead, I followed, and Jason gently pushed me from behind. Somehow, we made it up the stairs live. Jason took full opportunity, and put his hands on my butt as we got about halfway up the stairs. I smiled at his groping, as I knew he what he was doing...and by the time I got to the top, I had a full raging boner! Brant was sitting on my bed when we got into the room, and Jason paused long enough to lock the door behind us. Taking the pillow from me, Jason tossed it over by the hamper by the closet, and then he took me in his arms and embraced me like a lover. Oh god. With sweet gently kisses, Jason began nuzzling my neck, and chin, then worked his way to my lips. Our arms around each other as though it had been months we'd been apart...it felt forever ago that we kissed. Jason's lips felt so warm, so soft. As he pressed ever slightly firmer to my own lips, I parted mine, and soon I could taste him. Our tongues touched...it was like I had never kissed him before...He was magic...his tongue was so amazing to me. The room began slowly disengaging its moorings and a spinning sensation came over me. All time stood still...just me and my Jason. I wanted to hold him and kiss him like this for a thousand years before we actually did kiss...now it seemed as though there was no yesterday, no tomorrow...only this...this embrace, this kiss...this boy in my arms. My penis was desperate for a touch...but I didn't want to break off the magic of this moment. I felt tiny arms work around my waist. Brant. The realization that we weren't really alone caused me to choke a tiny bit, and I pulled away from Jason just enough for little Brant to worm his way into the middle of our hug. Jason smiled down at the youngster, and pulled me back to himself causing a group hug. Brant turned his head and snuggled to my chest. His arms encircled me, and Jason had his arms wrapped around us both. It was awkward kissing, so we just left that off and stood there holding one another for a zillion years...or a couple of minutes. Somehow we were drifting as we rocked back and forth comforting one another. The next thing I knew I felt the bed at the back of my legs. On cue, we pulled apart without saying a word, and all of us worked our way on the bed...me in the middle, Jason on my right, and Brant on my left. Jason inched his way to be face to face with me and we picked back up with our kisses. Brant just ever so gently laid his head on my chest, careful to avoid my sore belly, and allowed me and Jason to kiss while he purred upon his perch at my chest. His hand was feather soft upon my chest too. I could feel wetness on my tee-shirt. The little guy was crying. Jason's hands began snaking down to my crotch, and slipped under the elastic waistband of my shorts and undies. My penis was rock hard and pointing up toward my bellybutton, so almost instantaneously Jason's warm hand found it and wrapped around it. Slowly he began pumping my dick all the while kissing and holding his other arm under my neck...holding and touching my face. The sensations were powerful. I had never been in a sexual situation with Brant so close to me...but Jason seemed desperate to get me off, to make this happen. He, Jason -- the ever cautious-one -- seemed totally at ease with doing this with Brand having a birds-eye view of all he was doing. I whimpered into Jason's mouth as my orgasm neared. It had been so long since I last climaxed, and here I was in my lovers arms and he had me as putty in his hand...almost literally. Movement...Brant re-adjusted himself as Jason's tempo quickened. Jason, Brant, and I all sensed my pending explosion. Brant pushed Jason's hand away and I felt him take my swollen dick into his mouth. OMG. The touch of his tongue on my penis pushed me over the top...my body quivered with sexual tension and though my mind wanted to push the boy away...my dick took over the show and began erupting in orgasmic tremors. I was cumming in Brant's mouth, Jason was kissing me passionately, and my mind was totally blown away. Wave after wave after wave of pleasure engulfing me. The room spinning out of control. This was perhaps one of my greatest orgasms of my young life. After I stopped pulsing semen into Brant's warmth, and Jason had released my lips so I could catch my breath, I noticed Brant had pulled off my dick, letting the waistband of my shorts and underwear cover my shrinking member, and he resumed his place on my upper chest. Brand snuggled into me like a satisfied puppy, and Jason was petting his hair, leaning up on one elbow looking down at Brant and me with a smug look of satisfaction. "Thought you'd like that," Jason said softly, smiling down at me. I cocked my head in a quizzical look. "Me and Brant have been planning this for two hours!" Jason beamed at me. "We wanted to welcome you home properly." "You planned this?" I asked stupidly. "Well...yes...I mean...we planned to get you off...not the exact details." "Wow," was all I could think to say. "Ummmm...I loved it." We smiled at one another, Brant patted my chest lovingly. My mind began racing after the sexual high began to fade. I pulled Brant up a little to look at him. "Umm...are you...are you sure this wasn't t..too s.soon after..." I stumbled over my question. My mind suddenly frightened we had crossed a line of irrevocably poor judgment. A solitary tear was left on his face directly under the middle of his eye...about halfway down his sweet face. Brant sat up and crossed his legs Indian style and put his hands on my middle. He sniffed and looked directly into my face. "I want to be with you guys. You make me feel safe. Wh..What that man did wasn't sex. It was mean and cruel. It had nothing to do with love and nothing to do with being loved. "This," he said as he looked between me and Jason, "this is love. I want to be here. I wanted to do this." He was silent a long time. Me and Jason waited patiently...knowing something other was on his mind. "I want Lenny to come home," he said finally. Brant let out a deep sigh, then he moved over to take a prone position on his side at the pillow. He closed his eyes, and was almost immediately asleep. Jason and I kissed a moment or two longer, then we too settled in on the pillow and snuggled in for a nap. When I awoke later...several hours later, we were all three spooned together, me in the middle...someone had come and covered us. Jason's back was to me, I had my arm around his middle, our knees slightly bent in a classic position. I could feel Brant pressed tightly to my back, he was molded into the same position, and had his arm around me similar to mine around Jason. I could hear their contented sleepy breathing. As I drifted off to sleep again, smelling Jason's hair near my nostrils, I heard Brant whisper, "I love you..." Was that for me? Or Jason? Both of us?...or was he dreaming of Lenny. Oddly I was warmed that it could be all of the above...we were four boys in love. Sorry for the delays. I lost my job due to the ever shrinking American economic situation. I have taken part time work as I look for another real job. All we need is a few more Democrats to sink the whole damn ship! Good grief. Anyway...I hope to get another chapter out sooner than this one took. I anxiously await your comments as always! ~ Andy andyoutwest@live.com http://weststories.altervista.org