Date: Sun, 17 Oct 2021 15:01:11 +0000
From: Isuccum <Isuccum@protonmail.ch>
Subject: What came next 8

What Came Next
A sequel to `The Valley Cottage'

Chapter 8

Dad was right. Martin's nightmares began to fade as he received more
counselling and came to terms with the fact that he would be a grown man
before his father ever had the chance of being released from
prison. Martin's eyesight came right after the swelling went down, but it
did take a while after we couldn't see any swelling. The doctor said this
was because of internal bruising putting pressure on the eyes. By the time
the holidays ended and we had to go back to school, Martin was almost a
hundred percent, physically. He still needed to continue with his
counselling; his counsellor said it might take as long as a year before he
was entirely able to cope with what had happened.

Fortunately, the court had ruled that the media could not publish any names
connected with the case to protect the minors involved, although Bethany
had already turned eighteen by the time the court cases took place. This
meant that when Martin returned to school there weren't any funny looks or
mocking jeers. It took a while before anyone twigged on to the fact that he
was living with me and not with his parents.  One benefit of living with
your boyfriend is that you can take care of all your excitement at home and
not take risks that could compromise you at school, especially useful as we
were not out. Outside of the three families concerned and the employees on
the farm, the only person who knew more of the story was Tom, who also
enjoyed some naked times together with Martin and me.

The little cottage in the valley became a weekend retreat for us three
boys. My parents knew what was probably going on when we took off for a
weekend, and Dad had moved some spare furniture into the cottage to make it
a bit more comfortable for us. We still had the mattresses on the floor on
which to sleep and enjoy some times together.

Neither Bethany nor Martin would ever see their father again. When word got
around the prison of what he was in for, he got severely beaten. He was
hospitalised for several weeks, then sent to a different prison. He
couldn't keep his mouth shut there and suffered another beating that put
him back into hospital. The third prison took an even stronger dislike to
someone who would beat up his own son just because he thought the son was
gay. There he got raped several times a day for a couple of weeks before he
used his bed sheet to hang himself.

Bethany did meet her mum when she was released from prison, but Martin
refused. Neither ever went back to live with her.

As for Martin, Tom and me, for the next couple of terms we enjoyed each
other's company, both dressed and naked. Then Tom met another boy, from a
different school, quite by accident. Tom was walking into town when this
boy, Jarrod, rode into him with his bicycle. Neither of them was badly
hurt, and Jarrod walked the rest of the way into town with Tom. By the time
they got into the precinct they had both been heading for, they had become
friends. It didn't take them long to realise they both wanted to improve
their relationship. At their first sleepover together, they discovered each
other's bodies, intimately. After that sleepover Tom told us about
Jarrod. He said he found what he did with Jarrod had more meaning for him
than what he did with Martin and me. We were happy for him and made it
clear that we wouldn't be hurt or upset by his going with Jarrod and not
us. Martin and I were already a couple, and this freed us up to stay true
to each other.

Martin was a year ahead of me at school. This meant that when he went off
to university I stayed behind at school. It was quite a wrench for both of
us, even though we knew he would come home for holidays and breaks. The
change from high school to university is massive, and Martin changed with
it. We discovered that our love was not that strong, and while we remained
friends we were no longer lovers by the end of Martin's first year. This
was just as well, as I was accepted into a different university. While we
kept in contact, we each found a new partner to love and share our physical
needs with. When I got married, Martin honoured me by being my best man. He
had met my partner, Derek, several times, and we had enjoyed some good
evenings out with Martin and his partner.

When I graduated with a degree in animal science I returned to the farm and
began to learn even more, with the view that I would take it over from Dad
when he retired. Dad suggested I might want to convert the valley cottage
into a liveable home for me and Derek. We hadn't even talked about living
together long term when Dad suggested this. I mentioned this to Dad
privately a little later, and he just said, "Take your time, but to me it
looks like you two are meant for each other. You have your mum's and my
blessing."

I took Derek to the cottage with the plan to sleep the night there. I had
already told him all about our times there, and he had met both Martin and
Tom by that time. We were sitting in front of the fire, waiting for the
kettle to boil to make some coffee when I told him about Dad's suggestion
to turn it into a house for me to live in while I worked on the farm. I
didn't mention that Dad had included Derek in his suggestion. He took on
the idea and discussed how it could be altered and built into the rocks
behind the cottage to have some of the rocks as features inside the
house. I got kind of excited when he made those suggestions and I could see
he would be the perfect person for me to spend the rest of my life with.

The next morning we had a good look around, and I took him to the cave
where we had left our clay markers. There were still some traces of the
clay there, but nothing was really recognisable anymore. Derek said we
needed to try and work that cave into the house. I liked the idea but
couldn't work out how we could. But then Derek was the designer, with a BSC
in architecture! Back at the house, Derek began talking to Dad about his
ideas, and Dad just looked at me with a little grin. I knew he was telling
me, `I told you so' and enjoying it.

Derek did convert that cottage for us. When it was finished, it was a
beautiful split-level home. Three bedrooms, one en-suite; two reception
rooms; and what was the original cottage was now a magnificent kitchen. It
still had the fireplace, but with an Aga stove instead of an open
hearth. The cave he fitted into our lounge, and more than one of Derek's
nephews and nieces slept in the cave when they visited. Derek had two
brothers and a sister who all got married and produced children, who were
farmed off to us at different times. For most holidays we had at least two
or three of them on the farm with us. With the farm being fairly close to
town, Derek was able to join an architectural firm, where he eventually
became a senior partner.

When Dad retired, we still had the same four farm hands. Investing in the
sheep had given each of them a different sphere of the farm to specialise
in. Will had taken over the poultry, while the others had taken over the
cattle, sheep and crops. When I took over the reins from Dad, I already
knew all the staff, and they knew me. The change went largely
unnoticed. Dad and Mum stayed on in the house they had raised me in until
they both passed, well into their nineties.  Will married Janet, and they
had three kids of their own, who were all teenagers when Mum passed. I
offered Will the house at a nominal rent, as he was the only one who was
still living off the farm. Dad had been building houses as he got enough
finances together, and the other three hands were already living on the
farm. Will and Janet moved in just before Christmas. They suggested we all
have a get-together for a Christmas meal and perhaps invite some of our old
friends or other family members to join us.

I liked the idea and set about organising it. I got all the wives to join
me in planning the meal and set Derek the task of organising the
venue. Christmas is too cold to have an outdoor event, so Derek got the
guys into decorating the tractor shed for it. He chose the tractor shed
because it was the biggest, as well as the newest, barn we had built. It
was also the easiest to clean, because ease of cleaning had been a factor
when Derek designed it. For one day the tractors and other vehicles and
implements would have to brave the cold.

Christmas eve, eighty-one of us sat down to a full-on Christmas meal with
all the trimmings and extravagance we could fit into it.  During the
festivities Will approached me with his youngest son. "Rick, Malcolm has
some questions about his sexuality. When he spoke to me this morning, I
knew that you would be the best person to help him. Please, could you have
a chat with him? Malcolm already knows that both Janet and I love him very
much and whatever comes out of this chat with you will not change that."

I looked at Malcolm. He was holding his head up, but I could see both
confusion and hope in his eyes. "Why don't we get ourselves something to
drink and go and check if your dad's chickens are alright?" I suggested.

We walked over to where we could help ourselves to a drink. Malcolm got
himself a can of coke while I grabbed a beer. Then we headed out to the
closest hen house. I knew the vestibule of the house would be warm enough
and also private. We had a long chat. Malcolm already knew me and knew that
I am gay. He wasn't sure if he was gay or not. When we finished up, he
still didn't know which way he was leaning, but he did know that he didn't
have to make that decision yet. At fifteen years of age he had time to test
the waters and learn what his heart was going to tell him. And I was
contented that he had the knowledge now to give him the courage to test
those waters. What was more, he knew he could come and talk to me whenever
he needed and I wouldn't treat him as a child.

Some years later, I would have the pleasure of seeing him take a beautiful
girl as his bride and come back to live on the farm and help his father
with the chickens. And his kids would come and sleep in the cave in the
cottage. That was a joy that both Derek and I experienced well into our
retirement, the excitement of a young person sleeping in a cave in our
lounge.


I hope you have enjoyed this story.  If so please would you write to me to
let me know your thoughts on it.  - isuccum@protonmail.ch

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Thanks

Rick