Ambush

The following fictional story deals with sex among males. If you are offended by such material, are too young, or reside in an area where it is not allowed, depart. Though not observed in this story, care enough about yourself and humankind to practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.

EvanBradley33@Yahoo.com

Chapter 38 Dances in Shared Spaces

Miles Forbisher's phone call to Evan Halsey of the previous evening had related Jim Belton's numbing resignation to selling the family farm to clear the way for his divorce from Brenda. The conversation had left Evan in a somber frame of mind. As soon as he reached school the next morning, he headed for Jim's office in the basement. It was empty. Jim reported for work early to do morning follow-up cleaning after the night crew, whom he called "the Swipers," came in to sweep the halls and to collect paper trash, aluminum cans, and plastic drink containers for recycling. But the real cleaning of the classrooms and the like in Evan's wing was left to Jim. However, Jim's absence told Evan that he probably was taking a personal day. Someone entered behind him. Turning, Evan and Ron eyed each other. "Miles called you about Jim last night?" Ron asked.

"Yes," Evan replied. "I think we won't see Jim today."

"I can't blame him," Ron responded.

"No." They stood, looking around the room. Then Evan walked over and threw his arms around Ron. "I can't help it. I need this. Am I breaking the rules?"

"No. We can hug," Ron said, pulling him into a power embrace. "We can kiss," he said, making their contact passionate. As they pulled back, he continued: "We can go out, eat out, visit each other's home, spend time with the kids and buddies, all that stuff. We need to spend more time together. Just no sex until we're ready for it." Evan dropped his head on Ron's shoulder, tightening his arms about Ron's big, sexy body, basking in the warmth, scent, and closeness of his man. Even under the sexual restrictions, Evan felt loved, secure, at peace.

Suddenly Evan's head popped off Ron's chest as he looked into his dark eyes. "You don't think Jim would do something desperate, do you? He has Miles now, but this whole business of having to sell the farm has left his self-image diminished, so he'll think it has been diminished in Miles's perception too."

They stood, looking into each other's eyes, pondering Evan's observation. Ron said quietly, "Call Miles. He'll know what to do."

Evan walked to his attache, fumbling around inside. He pulled out a cell phone and an address book. He thumbed through the book after handing the phone to Ron. Ron looked quizzically at Evan. "I hate that thing," Evan explained. "I'll give you the number, and you key it in and talk to Miles."

Ron snickered, knowing the challenge machines and technology posed to Evan, remembering him mumbling about machines not knowing that they were created to be subject to humankind instead of causing them trouble. Evan considered it a deliberate affront when a machine wouldn't work, causing him to paint the air blue with profane expressions and salty talk. Evan's antipathy to machines was one of the doorways Ron had entered as Evan's champion against the trials of the world. Ron knew Evan had warmed to his new, self-appointed role. As he read off the number, Ron keyed it in, listening to the ring. "Miles, it's Ron. Evan and I are here in Jim's office at the school, but Jim's not here. We know that means he won't be in today. Uh . . . we were a little worried. He wouldn't do anything desperate would he?"

Ron listened, shaking his head in agreement. "We'd kill ourselves if we didn't step in to keep anything bad from happening." Ron listened again. "Let me give you Evan's cell phone number. Call him when you find out anything. He'll be in class, so he'll have shut the phone off, but you can leave a voice mail. Include instructions for us about anything you two need from us." He listened, then read off Evan's number. He laughed. "Well, he has one, but he resists using it. That's why I'm the one talking to you instead of him. I think he can manage to turn it on." He laughed, so Evan knew they were sharing a joke at his expense. He cocked one eyebrow in disdain and flipped the bird at Ron. Ron ended the call, looking archly at Evan's sassy gesture. "I keep telling you, 'not now, dear,'" which earned him a double salute from Evan.

Laughing, he walked over to Evan, returning the cell phone and pulling him into a clinch and hot kiss. After a long while, he whispered, "Miles is going to go out to the farm to check on Jim. He'll let us know what he finds." They stood that way for a while, rocking gently back and forth. When they heard student voices floating down the stairs from the floor above, they broke apart, but each saw longing in the other's eyes.

As Burt Graham was driving down Brooker Boulevard, his eyes were drawn to a little kid hustling along the sidewalk, carrying a backpack almost as big as he. 'Weird,' he thought, 'do kids in junior high have to lug home that many books? We never did in my day. They make that kid carry any more books and he'll look like a turtle under a shell.' Closer inspection suggested that there was something familiar about this boy. As he rolled by, he slowed his car to give the kid a look over. 'Hey! It was that kid from the mall. What was his name? Something about a fish. . . . Jonah! . . . Jonah Stedman. That was it.' Burt pulled to the curb and hit the button to roll down the window on the passenger side, waiting for Jonah to come even with his car.

"Hey, Jonah, need a ride to school?"

Jonah came to a screeching halt, studying Burt. "Come on, let me drive you to school, buddy. I want to talk to you."

Jonah continued studying Burt, betraying no emotions but clearly not into trusting mode. "I won't hurt you," Burt continued. "We have something in common, you know. Remember?"

Jonah slowly made his way over to the curb, leaning down to look in the passenger window. "Remember me? I'm Burt. . . , Burt Graham. From the mall. My dad abandoned my family too."

"Hi," Jonah said quietly.

"Hop in. Let me give you a ride to school."

Burt saw Jonah hesitate. "Jonah, I don't blame you for thinking I might be up to something the way we came on to your and your buddy at the mall." Burt stopped talking for a few moments, swallowing hard before speaking. "We're five losers who are mad at just about anyone, but it's all an act to save us from being mad at ourselves. We've made some bad decisions, and we're paying for them. We don't know what to do about it. Well . . . we know what to do about part of it; we just don't know how to start. Maybe we need a courage boost. I was kind of thinking you might help me with that. You know, one guy whose father skipped helping another guy whose dad skipped?"

Jonah's acute mental faculties allowed him to realize immediately the internal struggle required for Burt to be so honest with him, nearly a stranger and one markedly younger at that. He realized that Burt had to be strong to be so honest. Jonah opened the door, dropped his backpack on the floor, and slid into the passenger seat, pulling the door closed after him. Burt grinned. He held out his hand, which Jonah accepted with a handshake.

"Buckle in, fella," Burt instructed, driving on.

They rode in silence for a bit. "So how can I help you, Burt?" Jonah inquired.

Burt collected his thoughts, keeping his eyes on the traffic. "Remember when Troy asked what school we attended and we admitted to being drop outs?"

"Yes," Jonah answered, intrigued at the possibilities that suddenly were beginning to occur to him.

"You think he'd talk to me about that? About maybe getting back into school?"

"Of course he would. If he hadn't wanted to, he wouldn't have been sad when he heard that you guys had left school. You could tell that day. Troy's a nice guy. All the kids look up to him. He would help anybody who wanted to do better. And you ought to see his girlfriend, Susan Connolly! She's a knock-out!" Jonah exclaimed, grinning.

"Jonah, could you set it up for me and Troy to talk? And would you take part too, please?"

"Oh sure. I'll talk to Troy today. You want him there because he's big in school. But why do you want me there?"

"Maybe because you're starting to feel like a little brother to me. And if this works and I . . .we get back into school, I'm going to need a tutor. A couple of the other guys may come with me. If you can't help them, I bet you know someone who can. Are you up for it?"

"I'd like that. Do you mean your buddies will follow you back into school too?"

"Chad Murphy and Rex Tolliver will for sure. I think Austin Wilson may also. Denton Cooper probably won't. He's a tough dude to corral. . . . His mom told me once he's her 'lost child.' Denton comes from a big family, but he always keeps himself apart from them. He's the youngest of the brood. He's hard to talk too. I've tried to find out why he feels that way, but he's not into sharing information about himself." Jonah began mulling all that Burt had disclosed about Denton, relating it to the obvious anger that Denton was exhibiting at the mall.

When they reached the school, Burt asked for a piece of paper so that he could leave his phone number. Jonah reached in his backpack, pulled out a spiral notebook, ripped out a page and handed it and a pencil to Burt. Then they took their leave of each other, Jonah being certain to thank Burt for the ride and promising that Troy or he would be in touch with him soon.

Miles had called Rosamund, his secretary, immediately after Ron's call, telling her he needed to go check on Jim. He'd only recently tipped to the fact that a warm regard had sprung up between Rosamund and Jim. He guessed it must have happened all those times Jim had spent in his office reception area waiting to see him about the divorce or to join him for dinner after the day's last appointment.

Miles explained to Rosamund the low emotional state to which Jim had fallen last evening when he received the news that the farm would have to be sold. Upon hearing about that news and Ron's information, Rosamund urged Miles to drive out to Jim's farm.

"Oh, wait a minute. Do I have any appointments today?" Miles queried.

"You were going to reserve most of today for catching up with the business side of the office. You have just one appointment this morning, Mr. and Mrs. Alderson. They wanted to talk to you again about their estate.

"Oh," Jim's voice fell. "They're important clients. But I really feel that I need to go to Jim's farm now."

"You let me take care of them," Rosamund insisted. "Don't worry. When I'm finished with them, they'll be happy they're not coming in today. And I do mean they'll be happy. If you should happen to run into them today or tomorrow, just cough a lot. Mr. Alderson is in the initial stages of emphysema. I'll assure them that we were worried for his health and welfare, so we didn't want you to communicate your respiratory infection to him. Besides, you know they have to talk at least a month before they decide to do anything, so they won't really be missing anything today."

Miles chuckled. "Did I ever know you were so devious?"

"I work for a lawyer," she observed coolly, but Miles knew she was grinning. "And give me a call when you locate Jim. Just to let me know he's okay so that I won't worry."

"Done," Miles replied.

Glancing at the speedometer of his Explorer, he eased his foot back on the accelerator. He couldn't identify at what point Rosamund became another mother for him, one of the best. She wasn't intrusive, didn't boss, but she always looked out for his best interests, gave him sage advice when asked, and generally troubleshot the professional side of his life. Once again, he found that he had to ease back on the accelerator. He told himself for the tenth time that Jim was okay. No emergency to which he had to rush.

After arriving at the farm, he walked up to the back door of the farmhouse and knocked. No one answered. He tried the door, which was open. He entered the kitchen, shouting Jim's name, but there was no answer. A trip through the downstairs rooms assured him Jim wasn't there and nothing was amiss. He climbed the stairs to the upper story, checking Jim's bedroom, which was neat as a pin. A check of the other upper rooms revealed no Jim. Returning to the first floor, he decided he'd check out the farmyard buildings.

As Miles walked to the back gate, he saw from a distance that the barn doors were open. He strode in that direction. Sliding the doors open, he saw immediately that one of the horses was gone. Fortunately, he was wearing jeans, so he saddled Zephyr, the horse he usually rode when he was at the farm, and headed out into the back pasture. "Hey, girl, go find Jim and Barney." Feeling that she had the reins, Zephyr headed in the direction of the stream and pool that had become a favorite place of theirs. 'How did a horse ever end up with the name Barney?' Miles wondered.

The morning was already balmy. It was going to be a beautiful day. Spring was clearly upon the land. They moved at a leisurely pace for about ten minutes. As they topped a rise, Miles could see Barney tied to a sapling down by the stand of trees enclosing the stream and pool. He didn't even have to direct Zephyr there. Barney looked up dispassionately at their approach. Miles alighted from Zephyr, tying her to Barney's tree. Then he walked toward the stream. Some sensibility kept him from calling out. As he walked through the last of the underbrush and shrubs, he spotted Jim sitting, looking at the pool, a sprig of grass sticking out of his mouth.

At the sound of Miles's feet crunching over dead leaves and grass, Jim turned and looked up. "Miles! What are you doing here?"

"When Evan and Ron didn't find you at school, they called me, fearing for your welfare. We - that includes Rosamund, by the way - thought I should come out to see that all was well with you."

"Thought I couldn't handle it, huh?" Jim said a little defensively.

Miles tossed his head slightly aside, betraying a small grin, knowing that he'd triggered one of Jim's 'prideful' buttons. "No need to get prickly, Jim. We all care about you. You know I love you. You're having a hard time," he said as he dropped to the ground beside Jim, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing for a moment. Then he picked a long blade of grass, sliding it in his mouth. "We would be feeling the same if something comparable happened in our lives. We hope you'd care enough to check on us. That's what buddies and friends do. Besides, I seem to remember hearing accounts about someone showing up more than once to help Evan when he returned to school after his flight down the stairs. This same guy probably stood off, unseen, watching for several days to see that Evan made his way safely to his car. Evan didn't get prickly about that, did he?"

"Naw. . . . Okay. I'll be as grateful about it as Evan was. Does that make you all happy?" Jim asked, still not smiling, but Miles could see warmth in Jim's eyes as he answered, telling him Jim wasn't pitching attitude any longer.

They sat in companionable silence for a while. "I just wanted to take a last ride around," Jim finally explained. "I figured I'd use today to do that - my day for the land and me. Then I'd be ready to start letting go. I could start doing all the dismantling of my life here on the farm."

Miles just shook his head in understanding. They sat in silence for a while. "Maybe instead of looking at it as a dismantling, Jim, you need to look at it as moving on into the next phase of your life. If it's as good as this phase, it can't be something to be dreaded, can it?" Miles asked softly.

Jim studied him. "I guess I have to get into that new phase before I can feel it offers any hope," Jim uttered softly. They were silent for a space. "I don't want you to assume, Miles, that I'm thinking I don't have anything important in my life anymore." Jim reached over, grabbing Miles's hand, lifting it to his lips, planting a soft, warm kiss on the back. "You're just as important to me as this farm and all it represents. It's just that I had the farm in my life and heart for a long time before I met you. Even after the farm's gone, I'll still have you, and I'm grateful for that. . . . I've been sitting here thinking what I'd be feeling if I'd gotten some other lawyer, if I hadn't had the opportunity to fall in love with you. I'd be in sad shape. But I'm not that bad off. I felt last night that I was, but after you'd left, my heart directed my thoughts toward you, toward your wonderful picnic, which helped soften the blow and painted a warm, close picture of how much you cared for me. That was special."

Again, they allowed silence to wrap around them. "I have to confess that the picnic was a suggestion of Evan's, but I liked the idea immediately when he offered it," Miles explained.

"All that says is that we have good friends who care about us, who wish us well, who give us good advice. I'm still better off even if I have to let go of the farm." He leaned forward and brushed his lips over Miles's, sending little tremors to both their nether reaches.

Miles reached over and clasped Jim's hand in his own, leaning his shoulder against Jim. They sat that way for perhaps five minutes, when Jim sighed. "Come on, let's ride over the entire farm."

"Okay," Miles said, allowing Jim to pull him up. "I've got to call Evan and Rosamund to let them know all is well with you." For the first time that day, Jim sported a killer grin. Lots of good folks cared about him.

Evan had started his lunch period reading essays, but Greg Dunwoodie's so-so essay, way below his ability level, had discouraged him. He'd quizzed Paul Hartford and Beth Walker several times about how Greg was faring since Ross Brownlee had been forced to return home upon his father's death. Ross had been an art major at the city's college and Greg's boyfriend. Initially, Paul and Beth were hopeful, roping Greg into attending gatherings with them, even trying to connect Greg with a couple of gay acquaintances. But Greg was distant, uncooperative. Evan could see their hope fade to the point that they just gave up. They'd made a good faith effort to help their friend, who wasn't going to have any of it.

Evan wondered what it would take to move Greg back out into the stream of life again. He squirmed. Greg's behavior sounded similar to Evan's own behavior in the past. 'What got me moving?' he asked himself. He was pondering that, staring out the window, when it hit him - the ambushes! They had opened a new stream of experience for him that, whatever had happened since, was still beneficial. 'So, Mr. Self-Acutalizer,' that inner voice challenged, 'you didn't get yourself started at all. Somebody else did that for you. That's why, Evan, you can't behave like you are an island unto yourself. Some people are meant to jog you in a new direction. For whatever reason, you can't do it, so they must. If you are wise, you'll allow that to happen.'

'So is there someone who's going to get Greg started?' Evan wondered. 'How soon? I hate to see him drift, lose out, remain empty.'

In defeat, Evan turned from his reverie to his lunch. He was drinking V-8 juice and reading a book of Philip Booth's poetry, "Before Sleep," when Susan Connolly stuck her head around the door, catching Evan's eye. "May I tear you away from your reading for a bit?"

Evan smiled warmly. "Anytime," he replied, marking his place and setting the book aside.

Susan gracefully moved around the doorframe into the room, sitting at a desk in front of Evan. "I'm glad to see you smiling at me. I wasn't certain what greeting I'd receive."

"Meaning?" Evan probed, his eyes twinkling with happiness over Susan's presence.

"I was afraid our threesome hadn't met with your approval."

"Susan, whatever formations you move into are none of my business."

"Come on, Evan. You know that isn't good enough for us."

"Okay. . . . I have no problems at all with the threesome. In fact, I'm delighted that you all have created such a close, sensitive relationship. I was taken by surprise when I saw the three of you in the kitchen, you may remember, but a little focused thinking led me to assemble the pieces as they formed over the past few months. The picture revealed helped me realize that it is such a natural formation. You, of course, were the question mark. I guess I wasn't certain you'd ever want your relationship with Troy to be so open. But then I remembered how you encouraged Troy to have a relationship with me - on several occasions, if memory serves," Evan stated archly, looking off into space, faking innocence with a big grin on his face. "And then you adroitly exacted a 'double-dollar' deal with him."

"Double-dollar?" Susan inquired.

"Every time he got it on with a guy, he had to get it on with you twice before he could be with, say, Cody again."

Susan's wonderful laughter bubbled up. "Cody? Aren't you dissembling, sir? I believe you were involved . . . how many times was it? I lost count."

Evan playfully swatted her hand. "It's not nice to paint a lascivious picture of a friend." Susan laughed heartily. "I can see stronger people emerging from your threesome," Evan continued. "It wouldn't happen with everyone, but it can happen with you folks. You will each bless the others many times over. Besides, Cody told me about how you've won the Lottery of Love among your 'sorority sisters' for BOTH Troy and Cody."

More bubbling laughter, one of the true joys of knowing Susan. "Yes, but I can't boast about it, or Coach Hernandez will have to post guards around Troy and Cody. Some of the hungrier women around here will kidnap them to make them their love slaves."

Susan and Evan cracked up at such an eventuality. "Oh man!" Evan exclaimed. "Could I ever have fun with that scenario! I'm not certain we'd ever get Cody to rejoin us. He seems the sort who'd take to Amazonia!" More companionable laugher. "I'm glad you all had Cody share your experience with me. I guess you're okay with that?"

"Yes, we knew Cody was going to talk to you. But I knew that you and I needed to talk too. I wanted you to know that Troy, Cody, and I drifted into this arrangement. We were together so much, and we felt so comfortable with each other and enjoyed our time together so much that we began to draw closer. Without ever talking about it, Troy and I began to feel some emptiness when Cody would take his leave at the end of the evening. We missed his caring and concern for us, his orneriness, his in-your-face challenges that resulted in our settling into each other more deeply. One night, upon Cody's departure, Troy commented on that strange emptiness. I told him I knew exactly how he felt. He looked at me a bit and then said that one of his fantasies was to keep Cody and me with him - in bed. He looked relieved when I smiled. I told him how I'd felt a growing attraction to Cody, which had started during those moments when the two guys seemed a mirror image. He observed that I sometimes called him 'Cody,' which used to crack him up because, even though I tried to hide it, my verbal slip embarrassed me. We talked about how a threesome might work, what the dangers might be. I believe the name 'Evan Halsey' came up at that point." Evan's eyebrows reflected a "Do tell?" response. "So Troy began his planning. I think Cody told you what happened after that."

"You're quite fortunate, you know," Evan observed. "You three have made something that not everyone enjoys. You're all old enough to have experienced being alone in a crowd. And you understand that one can remain in the constant company of others, moving into circles of activities with them, yet never feel fulfilled. That's not true of you three."

"There's an even nicer aspect for me personally," Susan observed. "For several years, I haven't felt myself changing much. It was as though I sat in the eye of a hurricane as I watched classmates and friends swirl and change around me, generating rather frantic patterns of behavior, looking for meaning and the beginnings of an adult identity. Not often but occasionally I wondered if anything was wrong with me because I remained above all of it. I asked my mother about it once, and she told me that she'd had that same experience when she was in high school. But to be loved by two good, sexy men - a woman can't be connected with them and not change."

"Two? Well! I would have included myself in that number!" Evan exclaimed.

"Evan, I never allowed myself to imagine as much," Susan responded genuinely.

"Why not? You can see right into me." Evan's smile invited more information.

"You certainly don't think I'm intruding every minute, do you? Everybody needs some private space. I only really scope you out when I think you are having a problem. . . . Now that you mention it, I DO think of you as someone to whom I can turn when I need help."

Evan chuckled, looking at the ceiling. "Let's see. The last time you needed help from me was three years ago when three rain drops fell on you." Susan gently shoved his shoulder in protest. They settled back into the previous line of discussion.

"I'm changing, Evan, but it's for the good. It's as though everything I had felt before has suddenly deepened. Everything - hugs, kisses, talks, fun, sex, love - is deeper, more fulfilling, more enjoyable. I never would have imagined it possible. I thought I was already feeling to the ultimate degree."

"So you and Cody really have connected?" Evan asked.

"Oh yes. Sometimes it's like being loved by twins. At other times, Cody is Cody, now aggressively challenging me to let him into my heart and mind, another time holding, protecting, and loving me. Neither Cody nor I look to Troy for approval when we want to touch or kiss or hold each other. Once or twice Cody's even initiated our love-making. And you know, Evan, how good he can be as a lover."

Evan blushed. "Yeah, I know the randy beast!" Susan and he laughed at their secret knowledge of the lusty side of Cody's personality.

"You probably don't know how much Cody loves you, Evan."

"Now that you mention it, I don't know how much I count with him. But how would I know? We aren't together that much. And when we are, it's rather rushed by sexual drive - you know Cody!"

"I said 'love,' Evan, not 'count,' Susan stipulated. "Remember the talk we had about how important it is to Troy to have a man like you in his life?"

"I'll never forget it. It made a big difference," Evan stated, remembering the visit they'd had when he was in the hospital.

"It's the same with Cody. I think you know how he lacks anything more than a biological relationship with his father. Cody saw how Troy was drawing to you. Because he felt you were squeezing into his space with Troy, he hit Troy up about it once. Troy gently explained what you meant to him. From that point on, I noticed Cody listening carefully to us when we were talking about you, about our class with you, paying more attention to you when you were in our company. He asked to join us when we studied together for your class. I believe it was not long after that that, while the rest of us were in the sunroom chattering away one evening shortly after Jeremy came to live with you, that Cody left his date and ambushed you after you'd gone to bed. When Cody and Troy talked about it, Troy felt a little jealous." She paused a moment. "We were afraid we might cause you to feel jealous when you saw the three of us together."

Evan looked away. "I don't think that's what I felt." He paused. "I do this stupid thing." Susan's eyebrows rose in question. "When I'm startled by something new, my first reaction is to ask how it's going to affect me. My answer is never positive." Susan cocked her head to one side, her brow knitted. "I know," Evan stated with a little attitude. "I said it's stupid. When I found the time to consider your threesome, I was genuinely happy for all of you, for the way you were creating a space to accommodate all of you." He frowned. "Creating shared space seems to be happening less these days," he observed quietly as he looked out the classroom windows, frowning.

"Things are on tilt for you and Ron?" she asked quietly.

"Yes." Evan was silent for a while. Susan waited. "Ron had a talk with Miles Forbisher and Jim Belton - you know Jim, of course, and you surely remember Miles from Jeremy's reception?" She shook her head in the affirmative. "That talk led Ron to decide that our relationship had no proper center, one that would hold up under storm and stress, that is." He glanced at Susan. "Seems we created the relationship around sex, not love - although we had strong feelings for each other." He blushed.

"Don't you think that's understandable? You'd both had negative experiences with Tim Minor. You both are caring, loving men. You both wanted someone. You wanted someone to need you. I'll always believe that Tim played matchmaker for you two. I think he did it not only because he'd played the 'hit and run' pattern too many times on some decent men, but he'd also played it with two men who'd touched him deeply. I believe that down, down, down, under all the insecurities, fears, fabrications and facade that make Tim Minor who he is, there's a good guy. So he set you two up for each other."

Evan merely shook his head in agreement, pausing before continuing. "Miles and Jim explained their feelings for each other to Ron." Evan paused. "I guess you saw already that Miles and Jim are a duo?"

"Couldn't miss it," she smiled in answer. "LaRonda spotted it too. I guess she let you know that. It's only you men who think that personal reactions are opaque." She cocked her head a little to one side. "To a perceptive woman, they're transparent."

Evan groaned. "Don't let that get out. You'll frighten anyone with a male chromosome." Laughter followed Evan's observation.

"Anyway," Evan continued, "Miles and Jim explained to Ron how their feelings for each other remain constant without the absence of the other diminishing those feelings at all." At this statement, Susan's head began shaking in agreement. "Further discussion led Ron to the decision that we two have to go back to the beginning, starting over in building a relationship." Evan's eyes sparkled mischievously. "So there's no sex until we realize we've moved into what Miles and Jim feel in their relationship. It's probably going to kill me." He aped the final throes. Susan chuckled.

"I believe you'll live. I probably sound like a woman now, but if you fail to give the dating phase its due, my friend," she said, reaching over, squeezing Evan's forearm in her hand, "you won't end up where you want. You are so impatient, Evan, that you'll endure the stages that make a relationship grow without ever using them to rebuild your feelings about Ron and you. I've heard you remark more than once that 'it's all in the details.' This is definitely a time for Ron and you to 'live the details.'"

Evan's eyes had grown to saucer size. He couldn't remember a time when Susan had spoken so directly to him, treated him so much as her equal, taken the lead in directing him so wisely. "Wow," he uttered softly. "You DO love me."

Susan squeezed his arm again. "So much, Evan, so much. Just like all the others."

"Others?"

She frowned, dipping her chin, staring intently into his blue eyes. "You know what 'others' I mean." He looked away. "Maybe that's a conversation for another time. . . . Evan, all those small gestures Ron and you initiate for each other are the little steps that open up the depths in each of you to the other."

"Make space inside one for the other?" Evan asked, childlike.

"Exactly. When you've created enough space, you begin to dance around the center."

Evan's eyebrows arose. "What a beautiful image!"

"Isn't it?" she replied. "Sexy too," she said, looking archly at Evan. They both chuckled at their mutual understanding.

Suddenly Evan's eyes sparked. "Now don't tell me that Cody opened up depths for you and Troy. Cody, the Emotional Bulldozer?"

"Just as I told you, he did, Evan. We don't expect thoughtful, considerate gestures from Cody, so when he visits one of them on us, he sets us back on our heels."

"I'm prepared to believe," Evan said smiling, "but I need proof."

"At first, when Cody was going out with Troy and me for the evening, he'd walk up to me and hug me and kiss me on the cheek, then do the same with Troy. Another time he brought a rose for me and a rose for Troy. Then he'd end up between us, taking our hands in his. Another time he'd place a hand on each of our backs, slowly caressing us. Another time he'd be a gofer when he anticipated we needed or wanted something. Gradually, his loving gestures escalated in intensity and effect. Finally, when leaving us, he'd embrace and kiss each of us on the mouth, increasing the heat and passion of his kiss."

Evan's eyes were big again. "You're talking about Cody? I think he's been this way only with you."

She shook her head in the negative. "Who do you think posed the idea of telling you about us? Whose idea do you think it was to go to your bed? To reassure you about Jeremy?"

"I just assumed it was you or Troy."

Susan shook her head in the negative. "No, it was Cody. He's really quite the coach and leader, Evan. It's just another way he and Troy seem twins. Sometimes Cody appears very much the puppet master that made all of this happen for all of us - and with so much heat too!"

Evan's eyebrows arched. "Well, he is a hot, sexy, deviant dude, isn't he?" Again they both laughed at the apt depiction of Cody's private nature. But Evan knew they were grateful for Cody's allowing them into his inner space. Just then they heard Cody's voice out in the hall, "Where's our woman? I can hear her laughing." A few seconds later, Troy and Cody walked in the door and over to the group, standing on either side of Susan, each touching her in greeting.

"What's so funny?" Cody asked.

Evan answered, "We were talking about what 'a hot, sexy, deviant dude' you are."

Troy snickered. "You got that right."

Cody said nothing, but he was beaming as though he'd just won the "All State Power Forward" title. He reached toward the desk, grabbing Evan's book, "Before Sleep." "When I'm around, there's no time for sleep - or even reading about it."

Troy groaned. "You can say that again. Thanks, Evan, for taking him off our hands and into your bed the other night. He's like a new puppy who wants to be loved every second. For a night at least we got some rest."

Cody merely wagged his eyebrows above a devilish grin.

Ron was wandering aimlessly around the apartment. He'd been delighted no end when Kenny had dropped by his lab just before lunch. He always felt good when he saw Kenny. He didn't know why. Well, yeah, he did: Kenny was just wholesomely good. And he had a hot little body that made one want to wrap around it, hold it tight, and smother it with love. It also turned him on every time he thought about Robert and Kenny ambushing Evan - repeatedly. Evan had been Kenny's first fuck. Ron chuckled at the images filling his mind. When he'd inquired about the reason for Kenny's visit to the lab, Kenny had asked if he could come over to Ron's apartment after classes for a talk. He'd agreed readily. Before he could ask the topic to be discussed, Kenny had shot out of the lab, telling him over his shoulder that he had to meet Jeremy in the cafeteria.

He supposed Kenny wanted to talk about Evan and him. Or maybe there was a problem with Jeremy? He hoped not. He had intimations that Jeremy and Kenny had been spending most of their time at Kenny's home, causing him to worry a little about Evan. Since Evan and he were together only fitfully, he thought it important that Jeremy be near at hand. Though he disliked butting in, maybe he should gently suggest to Kenny that they needed to give Evan some time too.

A gentle knock summoned him to the apartment door. He opened it to a smiling, beaming Kenny. Ron stepped back, gesturing for Kenny to enter. As soon as he'd shut the door, Kenny shrugged off his backpack and flung himself into Ron's arms, pullng himself up to give Ron a hot kiss. Ron couldn't help it. He kissed back, squeezing that hot little body in his arms, running a hand over that poochy ass. When they broke the kiss, Kenny snuggled into the crook of Ron's neck. He could hear Kenny giving him a big sniff. "My Lion!" he whispered.

"Cub," Ron replied. "You never cease to delight." Slowly, Kenny pushed away and stood back. "I'm here to sketch you," Kenny stated.

"Oh?" . . . "Okay! As I told you that morning in Evan's kitchen, I've never been sketched. What do you want me to do?" he asked, leading Kenny into the living room.

"Strip!" Kenny commanded.

"Huh?"

"Off with the clothes and down on the floor. I want to sketch you reclining. I've been seeing it in my mind's eye for days. I know just how it's going to turn out."

Ron shrugged his shoulders, pulling off his shoes and socks and unbuckling his trousers. When he was down to his boxer briefs, Kenny pulled off his pullover, much to Ron's surprise. Immediately Ron's cock lurched when he spied the fringe of dark hair escaping from Kenny's armpits.

"I'm recreating the scene when you claimed Jeremy and me," Kenny explained, pulling off his shoes and socks.

Ron grinned, unbuttoning his shirt. "Jeremy okay with this?" he asked, pulling down his briefs, revealing his thickening cock.

"What do you think we talked about when I had to rush off to join him at lunch?" Kenny commented, pulling off his jeans and boxer briefs in one move, allowing his fat, five-and-a-half-inch dick to swing up out of its pubic bush. Evan studied Kenny's lightly defined pecs, slim thighs curving out a bit with muscle, and the bubble butt he'd caressed earlier. The sight put steel in his dick.

"So what about Evan? What's he going to think?" Ron continued.

"He started it. That time when you were claiming Jeremy and Evan was holding me, he told me to use this special sight I have to see within you the way I do when I sketch people. So I did."

"And?"

"I saw you as a Lion - strong, possessive, protective. Besides, Evan knows that you and your 'son' Cody get it on, but he's not upset about that."

Ron's eyebrows shot up. "How does Evan know that?"

"Cody told him when he went to bed with him last week. Don't worry. Evan didn't know what Cody had planned. You see, Troy, Susan and Cody have this threesome thing going." Ron's eyebrows rose even higher. "They walked in on Evan in the kitchen one morning. He figured it out immediately."

"What'd he say," Ron asked.

"Nothing. You know Evan. Just shot out of the kitchen like a bullet. So they were worried about what he would think. Cody suggested that he 'visit' Evan the next night. As he was describing how Troy introduced Susan and Cody to sex together, Cody demonstrated on Evan. That was when Evan asked him about you two. He wasn't upset. Maybe wanting to know that you weren't developing a case of blue balls. You know - just wondering."

"Does Evan ever 'just wonder?'" Ron muttered.

"Yeah . . . sometimes. Really, he thinks Cody and your getting it on is understandable. And if he didn't, Cody reminded him it would be the same as Jeremy climbing into Evan's bed, as he's done. So I know Evan would be okay with us. He loves us both, and he knows you're like my second father-in-law. But if you're worried about it, why don't you ask him?"

"Is that all Cody told Evan?"

"No. He told Evan not to worry because of all the time Jeremy and I were spending at my folks' house. We were just trying to establish ourselves there before we started dividing our time evenly between the two places. When we knew that Cody was going to visit Evan, we asked him to tell Evan for us."

Ron shook his head distractedly. "You guys talk together a lot! Do you tell each other everything?"

"Yeah, pretty much everything. We're more than friends, Dad. It's just natural for us to share everything happening to us."

"Tell me about this special sight," Ron said, naked, flopping down on the floor.

"You don't believe me," Kenny paused, his brow wrinkling. "I have it - I really do."

"Kenny, I just want to learn about you. I'm not challenging you. I love you so much I'll believe whatever you tell me. I have nothing to gain by doubting you and everything to gain by believing you."

Kenny looked Ron over for a bit. "Evan calls it the 'magic of eye and heart.' I can't really figure out when it started. I only became conscious of it when I sketched Jeremy. That was when I was still with Robert and Jeremy was having hard times. I'd sketched Evan before." Kenny grinned mischievously. "He was nude like you."

"Man, I'd like to see those sketches," Ron said hopefully.

"I expect that that can be arranged," Kenny replied, "if you make me happy, that is."

"Is that the way a son-in-law treats his dad?"

"Yeah, when he's packin' your hot stuff."

Ron barked out a laugh. "So are you going to use your special sight now?"

"Yep."

"What do you want me to do?"

Kenny walked over, pulling Ron up on his right elbow and hip, stretching him out some and crossing his left calf over his right one. He leaned down, gently pulling Ron's ball sack so that it fell down his right thigh. Then he licked Ron's dick, evoking a surprised moan. "I want your dick to be shiny," Kenny replied.

"You can capture the shine in a sketch?" Ron expressed dubiously.

Kenny grinned. "Just wait. You'll see."

Kenny sat on his shapely ass, crossing his legs, and studied Ron. He began sketching almost immediately. Ron wondered how long it would take to complete the sketch. As time passed, he was surprised that his cock still stood out hard and bold. Kenny was totally absorbed in his sketch. When his eyes were clearly focused on Ron's crotch, Ron turned his head a little this way and that to check if Kenny's dick was hard. Finally he could stand it no longer. "Your dick hard, Cub?"

"Oh yeah. Like a pipe," Kenny stated, a little breathlessly, lifting his drawing tablet so that his fat dick bobbed up. Ron started grinning. The head of Kenny's dick was shiny with precum.

For his part, Kenny couldn't remember being so caught up in a sketch. It was due to what he was seeing in Ron. As he had before, he focused clearly on an Alpha male. But he saw struggle too, which caused him to purse his lips. "Talk about Evan," he commanded Ron.

Surprised at the directive, Ron asked, "Talk about what in regard to Evan?"

"Anything - just start talking." Ron did.

Kenny wasn't listening to Ron's commentary on Evan so much as studying and analyzing Ron in talk mode. It had been a stroke of brilliance to get Ron to talk about Evan, for it made what Kenny had merely glimpsed previously prominent now. Whereas he'd seen so much strength before, now he spied struggle within Ron. He tuned into Ron's words, which were relating what he'd heard about Evan's reputation as a teacher just after he'd arrived at the school. "Talk about you and Evan as a couple," Kenny commanded.

Ron's eyebrows rose in surprise, but he quickly complied. Immediately Ron's inner struggle became more distinct to Kenny: This proud Alpha male was subjugating himself to Evan so that Evan's independent spirit would not be overwhelmed. Ron loved Evan's independent spirit because it was so much like his own. Besides, he wanted to avoid conflict with Evan.

Kenny sketched for perhaps ten more minutes. Then he looked up at Ron. He stood up on his knees, walking over to Ron and handing him the sketch. In the sketch, Ron saw himself on the floor, but his attention was riveted on the stiff alignment of his body and his clouded eyes and heavy brows lowered over his face, which was creased by heavy lines. "Oh! You did get the spit gleam on my cock in the drawing. But I didn't realize I was looking at you like that," he exclaimed.

"You were and you weren't," Kenny replied.

"Explain, please."

"You weren't looking at me like this on the outside. In fact, you didn't have much of an expression at all until you started wondering if my cock was hard. You were looking at me like that on the inside. It wasn't a reaction to me. When I asked you to talk about Evan, I saw struggle. When I asked you to focus on Evan and you as a couple, I realized that you feel caught in an uncomfortable dilemma. You want to honor Evan's independent spirit, but you feel as though you have to destroy yours to connect with Evan."

"Go on."

"Sex for you two has been your way of trying to find a balance in this struggle. I imagine you top Evan most of the time. But I'll bet you've let him top you once or twice just so he wouldn't feel that his maleness was second to yours. You do know that he wants you to top him most all the time?"

"Uh, no, I don't think I realized that. . . . Now that I think of it, I was just looking at us from my perspective, colored by my worries. He's never flat out said he wants me to be dominant all the time."

"He wouldn't. But I think you don't entirely trust what he says. Besides, for you two . . . maybe sex and spirit stay separated. You think if they were they to join, one of you would have to knuckle under to the other. You think Evan defers until something you do or somebody else does challenges his independence. Then he wants to step back into control, which leaves you wondering if what you'd felt was ever real. You even wonder if you and Evan can ever establish a balance. You two have trapped yourselves into thinking it has to be one way or the other about control. You've never asked yourselves if control even has to be an issue. You see - it's because you're an Alpha male and Evan is such a strong presence. It's very male, isn't it?"

Kenny looked up from the sketch at Ron, whose mouth was gaping. "What?" Kenny questioned.

"You CAN do it! You've set it out more clearly for me than I'd seen it." Ron's eyes fell back on the sketch, which he studied. "It doesn't give me any answers, but it helps me see the questions more clearly." Kenny smiled.

Suddenly a gleam arose in Ron's eyes. "Do you sketch only where people are, or can you sketch where they could be, assuming all the details fall into place?"

Kenny looked thoughtful. "I don't know. I've never tried it. I just concentrated on developing the insight I have. The idea interests me. But remember that I'm not a fortune teller. I just sketch what I see."

"I wonder if there is some way to push what you see toward the future, such that you could begin to glean what could be there for Evan and me."

Kenny cocked his head to the side. "Well . . . I guess we could try."

"How about this," Ron began. "You told me you were sketching me as the Lion, head of our Pride. What if I asked you to sketch me as Evan's husband, and while you were doing that, I talk about what I see and feel in that role?"

"Might work," Kenny answered. "It can't hurt anything to try," he stated, gently tearing his completed sketch from his drawing tablet and handing it to Ron, who placed it in front of him. "Go ahead."

Ron thought a moment. As he began to talk, Kenny sketched rapidly, looking at Ron intently but listening more carefully to what Ron was saying.

Quickly, Ron found himself lost in his description of how he would like to be Evan's husband, how they would be as a couple, what he'd do for Evan and what Evan would do for him. How intense their feelings would be, their life would be! All the while Kenny's hand was flying across the page. He'd never sketched so rapidly before. It was as though some faculty in his head had taken over, pointing his eyes at this detail this second, and then off to another detail seconds later. At the same time, he found himself responding to the tenor of Ron's remarks. Finally, Ron finished his account. "Is that enough?"

Kenny sketched on for a few moments. He stopped, expelling a breath. "Wow! I've never felt like that before. . . . Gee! Wait until I tell Jeremy about this."

"So let's see the sketch," Ron requested. Kenny scooted over beside him. They looked the sketch over together. The lines in the sketch were bolder, stronger. Ron was sitting up ramrod straight, his hard seven inches aligned with his spine; his ball sack was big, full. His legs were open, providing space between his hairy, strong thighs. His feet were resting on his heels, reminding Kenny of his first sketch of Robert that they sent to Evan. Ron's pubic bush seemed to fill in the space between his thighs. Ron's eyes gleamed with an inner light. His face suffused with joy, bespeaking strength but love too. His lips were open just enough to suggest that he was preparing to kiss someone. His arms were held out in a perfect half circle, preparing to embrace, but his palms were up. Just that simple arrangement of his hands offered a haven, peace, love.

"Wow!" Kenny and Ron said simultaneously. They looked at each other and then laughed together at their joint reaction.

"I'd say you and Evan can make a great couple if you sort out the struggle that you are feeling. Have you ever discussed it with him?"

"Ron's head shot up in surprise. "No. It never occurred to me. I just thought we would spend time together, get to know each other better, and then we'd move to a stance that was comfortable to both of us."

"All fairy-tale automatic, huh?" Kenny asked, his eyes dancing.

Ron glanced at him, catching on immediately to his bold challenge to Ron's mindset. Ron lightly snorted in contempt. "Yeah, I should have thought more clearly about that."

"Don't be hard on yourself," Kenny counseled. "Two bits says Evan was thinking the same thing."

How did you get to be so smart?" Ron asked, taking the sketch gently from Kenny's hand and placing both of them in a nearby chair. Then he pounced on Kenny. "I can't help it. You've made me so happy. I have to show you how much I love you, Son, for you've got me cranked up to a dangerous level."

It was a toss-up as to whether Ron pulled Kenny into a tight embrace or Kenny melted into his arms. Their kiss was passionate and long, full of tongues, gently caressing and sliding over each other. They pulled apart, taking turns nibbling on each other's lips. Their hips were making little thrusting movements against each other, which became more numerous as precum coated their dicks. Ron was aware for the first time that he was sharing, not dominating. He slowly rolled Kenny on top of him, running his hands down Kenny's ribs, making him jiggle his cock on Ron's because he was ticklish, but he didn't break the kiss. Slowly pulling his palms back up, Ron gently squeezed the muscle bundles he felt. Meanwhile, Kenny had broken away from the kiss so that he could lick Ron's lips, chin, ears, shoulders.

Kenny slowly pulled Ron over on top of him, ministering to Ron's bigger muscles and ass as Ron had done to Kenny, kissing and gently biting the balled muscles in Ron's shoulders. He set up a determined butt wiggle that made their leaking cocks spread precum between, making surfaces even more deliciously slick. Kenny started whimpering, Ron moaning. "Tell me what you want of me, Son."

"I want you to make love to me as you will to Evan the next time you two choose to do so."

"As a husband, you mean?" Ron asked.

"Yes," Kenny replied. "I like what you are doing Dad. You are being Poppa Ron, but we're equal. You give and you allow me to give. Now fuck me, please. Let me feel not just your power but your love."

And Ron did. He started rolling them over and around on the carpet, with Kenny on top one time and Ron on top another. Finally, with Kenny on his back, he raised Kenny's legs, running his nose through Kenny's crack, moaning at the spicy musk he found there and the hair tickling his nose. Then he slowly started nibbling on Kenny's cheeks and licking Kenny's pucker, setting off shudders and moans. He stabbed his tongue into Kenny, tasting the spice more strongly. Kenny was moaning and trying to thresh around, but he held fast to Kenny's waist with his hands. Then he bounced up and attacked Kenny's balls, which elicited a squeal from the owner. Then he was burying Kenny's cock in his mouth and down into his throat, which brought Kenny's ass off the floor.

"Please . . . , please, Dad . . . , I'm going to cum soon. Please stick that hot, hard cock in me."

"Then you need to help out, Son," Ron said, putting Kenny's heels on the floor, moving his knees outside Kenny's legs, and knee- walking forward. Kenny lunged up to take Ron's dick in his mouth, allowing it to move deep into his throat, where he swallowed against it, setting up a shudder in Ron. Then he pulled back, licking Ron's cock and balls, really slathering them with spit.

Ron moved quickly back down, reclaimed Kenny's legs, and placed his flared cock on Kenny's pucker, against which he immediately started pushing. With a moan, Kenny opened to Ron, who slid into the tight, hot warmth of Kenny's interior. He nearly lost it, gulping loudly several times as he halted his movement. Kenny waited until Ron showed signs of recovering from a near orgasm, and then he thrust his ass against Ron, setting up a kind of mambo around Ron's cock. Every swish with his ass made the hair there caress Ron's balls. Ron gasped, amazed that he was getting as much if not more from their making love as Kenny.

Ron slathered his hand in spit, then grabbed hold of Kenny's fat dick, jacking it with movements now big, now little, all in a rhythm sympathetic to Kenny's dance on his dick. Kenny was pounding back against Ron, his ass convulsively gripping Ron's cock. Ron was thrusting back, but now in power strokes. This was to be about them both, not just one doing to another. Kenny was whimpering, whispering "Dad" to Ron. Ron responded with "Son." They were both close to the edge. Looking into each other's eyes, it was as though they were monitoring not just their progress but their speed to the finish line. As they neared it, their eyes began to close and their lips met just as the sparks ignited. Ron could feel Kenny's cum jet between them at the same time Kenny felt Ron's cock convulse inside him. Ron was moaning and Kenny was whimpering into their kiss. Their orgasm spun itself out slowly. Finally, they collapsed into each other, kissing gently, caressing each other's body, basking in the afterglow. Then they lay silent for perhaps five minutes.

Eventually, Ron rolled off. Kenny hopped up and immediately started dressing. Ron was startled. "Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

Kenny ceased dressing for a moment while he rushed over and planted a quick, hot kiss on Ron's lips. "Everything is A-okay! It was great, Dad. I felt so loved. I'm just hurrying because Jeremy wants to plunge his seven-inch tamer in me while your cum is still warm inside me." Kenny paused for a moment, ready to pull his shirt over his head. "Jeremy's got a kinky side," he said, laughing as he pulled the shirt over his head and down his torso. "I love it."

He jerked his socks on and rather stumbled into his shoes. "The sketches are yours, Dad. Maybe you want to show them to Evan. Discuss what the two of you see in them. I'll see to it that you get to see the sketches of Evan." As he headed to the door, Ron could barely contain a laugh. Kenny looked like he'd been tossed in a commercial clothes dryer to dress. His clothes were on him, but not in any decorous manner. "Good-by Dad," he shouted as he shot out the door.

'I wonder if Jeremy will wait for him to take all his clothes off before he attacks him,' Ron thought.

Miles wasted no time in lining up an auctioneer, who insisted that he'd need at least four weeks to gear up and properly advertise the auction. Miles held to his course: the auction would occur in two weeks. When the auctioneer implied that Jim could pay him back for the short lead time by leaving his furniture in the house - in fact, leaving everything pretty much as it was so that it would look more like a working farm, Miles agreed, smiling. Now he found delight in Brenda's determined stance with her lawyer, Ford Winston, in leaving the details of the auction to Jim, for she had already recognized her lawyer's eagerness to be involved to a degree that made her uncomfortable. Thanks to Brenda, Miles had a free hand in establishing dates and details, but he kept Brenda and her attorney informed. He got a stiff argument from Ford, which didn't surprise him. What did surprise him was Ford's apparent belief that Miles would do whatever Ford suggested. He decided it owed to Ford's being Miles's father's age, allowing him to believe a strong hand was needed "with the youngster." Miles politely but firmly put an end to such thinking.

Ever responsible, Jim wanted to begin immediately moving his farm equipment and the horses, but Miles had persuaded Jim to honor the auctioneer's request. Jim had argued that he would have so little time after the auction to take care of all those details that he might be forced to accept less-than-satisfactory locations. Ron assured him that there would be time enough and plenty of friends to help him move. Jim grudgingly capitulated to Miles's argument. Since he wouldn't be vacating for a while, Jim continued to live on the farm, but he spent more nights with Miles at his home in the city, or he would nearly beg Miles to spend the night at the farm. Miles knew Jim was drawing close because he felt threatened. In response to Miles's query, Jim was adamant that he would not be attending the auction. He just couldn't bring himself to engage in such a painful process.

The two weeks passed quickly. Miles had worked it out with Ron and Evan that, on the afternoon of the auction, Evan would escort Jim from school to Ron's apartment, where Jim would await Miles's arrival after the auction for dinner with all four of them. Jim had smiled when Miles told him about those arrangements, commenting that at least he would be surrounded by his buddies.

When Evan descended to Jim's office at the end of the day, he found him depressed. So Evan turned talkative, trying to keep Jim distracted. Jim refused to be drawn into much conversation. When they arrived at the apartment, Ron was already there, having just initiated preparations for dinner. "Hey, guys, come on in," he greeted Jim and Evan. "Hang your coats in here," he gestured toward the coat closet in the foyer. "Evan, why don't you give him a tour of the place?"

Jim politely allowed himself to be led around the apartment, but Evan knew Jim's mind was someplace else. When they returned to the kitchen, Ron was hard at work preparing a casserole. Evan walked over, putting his arms around Ron, kissing him lightly, and looking into his eyes, letting him know that he knew about Ron and Kenny. When Ron understood the import of Evan's look, Evan kissed him again, slower, hotter this time. "I hear I have competition," he whispered, flicking Ron's ear hard with his middle finger but so Jim couldn't see. "I'm checking into a branding iron," Evan muttered archly. Ron laughed out loud.

"I've got a couple of branding irons at the farm that I'll be selling," Jim said, watching them in amusement. "What would you be wanting your branding iron to say, Evan?" Jim asked, amused.

Evan blushed, not intending that his muttered comments be heard by Jim. "Hm- m-m-m, maybe 'V' for victory."

"Oh," Jim said, his voice falling in disappointment, "I thought you'd was 'SS' for Super Stud. Ron carries himself like one anyway."

Evan looked skeptical. "Oh come on now, let's not get carried away. All that just because the man's got a big ass?" Ron turned and swatted Evan's. "A little respect for the chef, please." Jim and Evan were chuckling.

Ron provided Jim and Evan a beer. The moment of levity being over, Jim seemed to revert to his quiet demeanor. Ron was trying to draw Jim into a conversation, but he wasn't having much luck. Evan had wandered out into the living room. All of a sudden a color analyst's voice issued from the living room. Ron grinned. Evan had turned the TV to ESPN, where a basketball game was in progress. Jim drifted in the direction of the voice, leaving Ron grateful that Evan had hit upon just the right activity that would pull Jim out of his misery. As Ron turned to preparing a salad, he heard Evan asking Jim some questions about the teams playing. On about the third question, he hit pay dirt, for Jim took over the conversation, explaining the team's performance to date. At just about the point that Jim might be too conscious of only his voice filling the room, Evan would ask another question. He was getting good at it, for each question seemed to require that Jim give a longer answer.

Eventually, Ron completed preparations for the meal and set the table in the dining room. Evan had fetched Jim another beer, so Ron grabbed one for himself and joined Jim and Evan in the living room. Between them, Ron and Evan kept Jim talking about the two teams. Finally, a knock sounded on the apartment door. Jim's eyebrows immediately knitted and he sighed. He knew it was Miles. He knew the auction was over. He knew the farm was gone.

Evan and Jim could hear Ron greeting Miles, hanging his coat up. When they walked into the living room, Jim arose and walked right into Miles's arms, who pulled him into a passionate kiss, as though it were the most natural circumstance for them to be kissing in front of Ron and Evan. In fact, it was a sign of the growing comfort among the guys.

Just then a timer sounded in the kitchen. Evan excused himself to get Miles a beer, and Ron went to the kitchen. At Ron's invitation, they moved into the dining room. After Ron and Evan ferried the casserole, salad, bread, and wine to the table, they all started eating.

"So put me out of my misery, Miles," Jim stated dolefully. "How soon do I have to leave the farm?"

"You don't," Miles replied.

Jim looked puzzled, cocking his head to one side. Ron and Evan looked at each other, smiles growing on their faces, beginning to understand the news that Miles was about to impart. They couldn't hold it in; they started laughing.

Jim looked at them, turning red. "What's so funny?" he asked indignantly.

"I think, Love, that they've figured out who the new owner of the farm is," Miles responded around a big grin.

"Who?" Jim asked, a blank look on his face.

"You're looking at him. Or one of them anyway. That's why you don't have to move from the farm," Miles explained, beaming.

Jim's reaction was quite other than the three expected. He lay his fork down, scooting his chair away from the table. The look on his face turned stony, leaving Miles, Ron, and Evan puzzled, their amusement gone.

"Does that mean I'm just a farmhand for you? Or are you going to lease the farm to me?" Jim asked, his manner cold.

The three men looked at each other. Suddenly, a light dawned on Miles's face. He arose, walked to Jim's chair, and fell on his knees, tenderly embracing him. Then he eased back, a big smile on his face that nearly erupted into a laugh. "I'm your partner, dufus!" he exclaimed.

Jim stared uncomprehendingly. "Huh?"

"Jim, as former co-owner of the farm, you receive half of what I paid for the farm, and Brenda receives the other half. If you wish, you can put your half back into the farm. If Brenda is to reap the appreciated value of the farm, she also shares in that mortgage. Brenda's proceeds from the sale will be reduced by her prorated share of the mortgage, which will go to the bank. That's written into the divorce decree. Then, if you wish, we'll refinance the mortgage in both our names, for she would like to have her name off the mortgage when she pays her share. Then we'll be partners. Jim studied Miles's face for a long time. After casting furtive glances at Ron and Evan, Jim asked, "So it's just a business deal?"

Miles blew out some breath in exasperation. "Jim, it's whatever you want it to be. No one is imposing anything on you, least of all me. I love your strong, proud, independent spirit. Whether it joins with me or directs me or bosses me, it's okay as long as I'm joined to you. Your spirit is so strong that I know you love me. I love you. So you tell me what you want it to be."

Jim continued to stare at Miles. Then he fell forward, hugging Miles tightly, his head tucked into the crook of Miles's neck, his shoulders shaking a little. Occasionally, they could hear Jim's sniffles. Miles's eyes shown with love. He'd not only saved his man, but he'd joined them together.

"So what'll it be?" Miles asked softly.

Sniffing, Jim teased, "I didn't hear Love Slave in there anywhere," evoking laughter from them all.

As they set about eating, Evan spoke up. "Miles, however improper, I have to ask how you pulled all this off. I can imagine, given his earlier behavior, Brenda's attorney kicking up a fuss if he learned you bought the farm.

"All Ford Winston will ever know is that a holding company bought the farm, Barney-Zephyr, Incorporated."

Jim snorted out a laugh. "You named a holding company after my . . . our horses?"

"Why not? I know stranger names for companies."

"So you couldn't have offered a bid at the auction. That would have tipped your hand," Ron asked.

"Correct. My accountant, Herb Moran, did the bidding for me. And we broke no laws and breached no ethical canons."

"Can one set up a holding company in two weeks?" Evan asked.

"I started as soon as Brenda decided she wanted her share of the farm, so I had about three weeks. But I called in some favors to get the company established in time." The guys looked among themselves, smiling, suddenly high-fiving each other.

(To be continued.)

I apologize, readers, for the time elapsing between this posting and the last. I wouldn't want to do anything to suggest that I don't respect you. For several months I've been living in cars, airports, and PowerPoint. I've been in 15 cities this year on business, several cities more than once and more than half since this summer. In a feverish moment, I made matters worse by having my study painted and new bookshelves installed, which kept me away from my computer (my study's still not back to normal). When I could get to the computer, I had to do workplace stuff. Life is settling down, at least for the rest of this year. My plans are that Chapter 39 will forthcoming sooner. I appreciate your patience.

Evan