Anything to Turn You On

By moc.loa@OBOZATALZ

Published on Aug 30, 2000

Gay

Here's the legal section. After reading it, please read the section below.

All Legal disclaimers apply and are in effect. If for any reason it is illegal where you live to view material of an 'Adult' nature of if you are under the legal age limit, please leave this site now. The Author reserves all rights. Copyright 2000. The Author is Terrence Allessandro Julian with added input by Andrew Simon van Ryan. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ --------

Hello to all. When I finished 'Anything to Turn You On..', I stated that if you were interested in having the story continue to e-mail me. I have been overwhelmed with and by your messages. I had no idea!

So, I've decided to continue and pick up a little ways along from where I left off.

Here comes a warning. Parts twenty-six and twenty-seven deal with a tragic time in our lives. The subject matter is pivotal and is included here as such.

My own conduct leading to these events should in no way be considered as an approval of or as an encouragement of such behavior. It should in fact be a statement of my disapproval and serve as a warning to others. I do not condone this type of behavior in any way whatsoever.

That said, I invite you to join Andrew and I again in the continuation of 'Anything to Turn You On....'

Anything to Turn You On....

Book Two / Part XXVIII

by Terrence 'TJ' Julian

Copyright 2000. All Rights Reserved

We returned to 'little' Andy's' bedroom and peeked in to find Polly and Anita leaned over the crib, starring at him. "TJ!" Polly whispered and waved wildly for me to enter. She pointed at little Andy and said "He opened his eyes and they're like yours! Dark brown!". I looked back at Andrew. He shrugged his shoulders and said "His Mothers eyes are blue and mine are green, so don't ask me!"

About this time, Little Andy opened his eyes and indeed, they were the exact color of mine! He then let out a small sound, not a cry and not a whimper. Just a happy little sound. "I think it's feeding time" Andrew said, peeking over the three of us at his son.

"Let me!" Anita and Polly both cried out as they turned to face Andrew. He began to giggle and replied "OK, but don't start fighting over him. I don't want it to go to his head!"

As the two of them made a dash for the kitchen, Andrew stood next to me at the side of the crib.

"Terry" he said "I want to tell you something. I never want to leave your side again, as long as I live. I let you down by spending all my time working. I didn't mean for it to happen, but It slowly took me away from you. I was miserable not being with you and I didn't know how to tell Steven I wanted to quit".

I stopped him and said "I know Andrew. I was unhappy, too. I began doing the wrong things, trying to get your attention. Instead of saying how I felt, I thought I could get you to stay home by being weak and pathetic. In doing so I became addicted. Starting the night you left I fought the hardest fight I've ever had and I won. I'll never do it again, Andrew. I know I won't because I love you".

Andrew stared at me with a single tear running down his cheek. "I'll never leave you home alone, Terry. I don't want to work in the music business again. What I want to do is stay home with you and Skip".

"Skip?" I questioned. "Is that his nickname?". Andrew smiled and said "Yes. See, I was named for my Grandfather, so I'm not 'Andrew, junior'. He's Andrew van Ryan the third, not Andrew junior, because the name 'skipped' a generation. Hence the nickname 'Skip'".

"You're still the Andy I know" I smiled at him. "Only a bit wiser" he replied. He wiped at the tear as Anita and Polly practically burst though the door with Skips' bottle.

"You're still the Andy I know" I smiled at him. "Only a bit wiser" he replied, wiping at the tear. Anita and Polly practically burst though the door with Skips' bottle as he was doing so.

"Perhaps we should leave them to it and return to the living room" Andy giggled.

Seated again on the sofa, Andrew took me in his arms. "I'm so in love with you, TJ. The time I spent away has been the worst time of my entire life. I never want anything to come between us again".

"It was the worst time for me as well, Andrew" I said looking into his eyes "Nothing will ever divide us again. I'm the Terry you fell in love with. The demon who separated us is dead".

He smiled and held my chin in his cupped hand "I know, TJ. I can see it in your eyes. My handsome Terry is back and I love him with all my heart".

He leaned over and our lips met. I recalled the night he kissed me the very first time and I found myself reliving the thrill of it all over again. I knew just how much he loved me and how deeply I loved him. Thankfully, we would never again be apart.

I slept that night curled in his arms with my head resting against his chest. For the first time in what seemed ages, I slept straight through the night without waking in darkness, tears in my eyes.

The next day we spent deciding how to get a fresh start. Over beignets at the Cafe du Monde we decided neither of us wanted to return to Hampstead right away. I had spent the last ten months alone there and we both recalled the time leading up to him walking out as painful.

We also realized that fall was soon upon Europe. The house in Montreux would be cold, and I'd given my Mother the house in Milan. Cannes was OK, but again there were memories still too fresh. I suggested we stay in New Orleans. Andrew agreed with one stipulation. He insisted we return to England before little Andy began learning to talk.

"I love hearing English children speak and I want Skip to speak that way" he told me. Then with a quizzical look he asked "Have you noticed that you've developed an accent, TJ?" I sighed and said "Yes. I've had it for nearly three years". He looked sad and replied "Oh, Terry! I was away so much I didn't notice".

Andrew started to sniffle as I reached out and took his chin in my hand. "Andy, that was then and now, it's today" I said "Life is lived in the present and mistakes of the past serve only as a reference for what not to repeat. Let's look forward and remember the past is the past. The future is ours to mold as we want it, Andrew. We just need to keep our minds set on the goal. Everything else becomes easy if we always keep our minds set on the goal". ` He sniffled once and said "That's true TJ. What a wonderful way to look at life" His smile reappeared and he asked "Where did you learn that?"

I answered him "A wonderful man who could overcome any obstacle told it to me a long time ago".

We took a lease on a house along St. Charles Avenue in the Garden District. It was a big house and a fine example of 'Italianate' architecture. Polly demanded we let her stay, saying Andrew needed her assistance now more than ever before and we agreed!

Anita decided to take a six month leave of absence from Allessandro International and stay with us too. She said at the time "The two of you need time alone together. Polly and I will make sure you get it!"

Andrew proved himself the kind of Father who loves to be home with his family. Polly soon pointed out that I was acting like a Father too, spending long hours playing with Skip or fussing over him.

Within a short time, Andrew and I found ourselves more in love than ever. It was as if the darkness had given way to a light neither one knew existed.

That first night we spent in the House on St. Charles, Andrew and I made love with such passion that it washed all of the past away. Afterward, he held me and cried, saying he'd heard the angels singing. I cried my eyes out too. His words were the sweetest ever spoken to me. Our love was not only intact, but improved and strengthened as well.

Little Andy had reached the crawling stage when Andrews birthday rolled around. Anita and Polly insisted he and I go someplace alone for a long weekend. Deciding on a trip to the Caribbean we spent four days on a small sailboat in the British Virgin Islands. While on board, Andy was gazing toward St. Maarten and he remarked "TJ, lets' move to an island someday!" I thought about it and said "When Skip is old enough to start school, we'll look into it. If we can find an island with good schools, OK." He grinned and replied "OK, Dad!"

Lounging in the sun by day and making love at night, the vacation seemed to end too soon. Yet both of us were eager to return to little Andy.

Back home in Hampstead, our absence had become the subject of much speculation amongst our friends. Many knew of the troubles we'd had but none knew our current whereabouts or anything regarding Andrews son.

As does happen, wild rumors began to circulate. Tales spread saying Andrews' departure had sent me over the edge. Some said I'd been locked away in an asylum in Sweden after losing my mind, others that I'd entered a monastery near Milan in Italy.

When summer finally arrived, we came home to Hampstead Heath and to many a raised eyebrow! Ben Leith and Charles Winston, as I recall, were the first to visit us. As they greeted us, both remarked how good Andy and I looked.

"My God!" Charles remarked "The two of you look like you did when I first met you. Except tanned!" Ben had visited me a few times during the ten months Andy was gone and he said "Terry, you look wonderful! When I think of how awful you looked two years ago and how you look now, the memory makes me shudder" Turning to Andrew he said "Last time I saw you, it appeared as if you hadn't slept in six months. You look great Andy, welcome home!" Andy smiled and said "Oh, I've been home quite a while. Terry is my home".

We were sitting in the newly redecorated living room when a baby's' cry echoed into the room. "Excuse me" Andy said, getting up to leave "Must be feeding time". Andrew left and our guests turned to stare at each other, then at me. Noticing their confused faces I remarked "We had a baby".

"What?!" they both cried. "C'mon" I said "Let me introduce you"

We got up and they followed me into the library where Skips' play pen was. Andy had just given him his bottle and was talking at him as we entered the room.

"Andy, the guys wanted to meet Skippy" I said. Andrew turned and smiled. "Ben, Charles" he said lifting his son from the playpen "Meet Andrew Simon van Ryan the third". Andy turned and held Skip up. Skippy cried out a greeting with one of his happy little sounds.

"Now I've seen everything" a stunned Charles remarked flatly. "Andy! He looks just like you!" Ben exclaimed, then glanced at me looking worried. I began laughing and said "We're just one big happy family now!"

Andrew, without missing a beat said "Yes, TJ's become quite the doting Father".

"Ah, perhaps you could explain it to us?" Charles begged. "Sure!" Andy said carrying Skippy "Lets return to the living room, shall we?" I stepped over and gathered up a few of his toys, then followed them.

Once seated, Andrew told them in brief how he'd become a Dad. "I was fortunate, in that Terry understood and took me back regardless. I'm blessed to have both TJ and little Andy". I spoke up and said "There was never any question about it. I caused Andy to leave by my actions. He was in a vulnerable state at the time" I paused a moment, then continued by teasing "As I recall him telling me, a drunken vulnerable state". We all had a good laugh, watching as Andrew turned red faced, rolled his eyes and replied "Yes, I admit it!" Skippy giggled as I held out his toy bear. Andrew pointed and said to them "See what I mean about TJ?" They nodded their agreement.

"So, we're a family" he remarked "A bit different, but a family none the less. Skippy has two Dads. Polly has stepped in, acting as Mother". I added "I don't think the boy's at a loss for love in this home. He seems as happy as can be".

Charles grinned and asked Andy "Are you going to teach him to sing like Tom Jones?" Andrew giggled and replied "Only if he wants me to!"

Soon the word spread amongst our friends we'd returned to Hampstead and that we were now parents. Old friends came to visit and everyone fell in love with little Andy.

A few of the drug dealers heard I was back and when they came to the door Michael, the american bodyguard we'd hired in New Orleans, turned them away. He warned each one, saying if he caught them anywhere in our neighborhood again, the police would be the least of their worries. They knew he was serious.

Let me describe Michael to you and I swear this is completely true and accurate. He is the son of a Brooklyn, New Yorker Father of Italian descent and a full blooded Cajun mother. He was born and raised to the age of thirteen in Lima, Peru (his Dad worked for the US Embassy there). He learned to speak South American dialect Spanish, English and Cajun French. The family then moved to New Orleans where at the age of eighteen he started his first job as a bouncer for a Bourbon Street strip club. At 6' 3" and 265 lbs of muscle, he is NOT the kind of guy you want mad at you!

None of the drug dealers came knocking a second time. Michael was a good man to have around for protecting Skippy. He took his job very serious, yet was a great comedian when not working.

Andy and I did have one slight run in with the police in Hampstead shortly after our return. Andy was puttering around in the back garden and I was with him. It was a very warm day and both of us were wearing only shorts and t -shirts. It soon clouded up and a warm afternoon shower began. He was just about finished so we stayed out in the rain and got soaked.

I found myself becoming aroused at the way he looked with his clothes and hair all wet. I decided to kiss him. He must have been in the same mood, because when I kissed him he dropped what he was doing and grabbed me. Andrew pulled the t shirt from my body and began kissing me aggressively. "Oh, TJ!" he moaned as we groped each others wet bodies.

"Yes, Andy. Oh, Yeah!" I sighed as he reached into my shorts. Things were getting exciting when I heard a window slam shut. The sound came from two houses up and behind ours. "Oh, Oh!" I remarked "I think someone was watching us!" "Oh, damn it!" Andy cried "We'd better make ourselves disappear in case they call the police".

We hurried inside and quickly changed into dry clothes. I picked up the red phone and Polly answered. "Polly where are you?" I asked. "Next door, at home. Why?" she asked. "Is Skip with you?" I asked as I hurried to get my shoes on. "Yes, TJ. Why?" she quizzed. "OK, we're coming over. Meet us in the delivery entrance" I said and hung up. We ran down the stairs to the kitchen. Michael was seated at the kitchen table reading a newspaper when we burst through the door.

"What the hell?" he said looking up. "Put some boxes against the back of the pantry to hide the lift" I called out. "If the police come to the door, we're not home. Just let them come in and show them we're not here!" I shouted as Andrew called the lift. As we stepped into it, I could hear the familiar two tone English police siren coming up Hampstead High St. It would still take them about two minutes to reach the house, so when the lift stopped we ran down the tunnel to meet Polly. We hurried into the servants home and shut the door. By now the Police were arriving in front of our house on the opposite block and their siren could be heard loudly inside Pollys home.

"What have you two done?" she asked in a scolding tone. "We were kissing in the garden and someone saw us two houses up" I said almost whispering. Don't ask me why, I just was! "Oh, no!" Polly moaned "That's the old vicars' wife!"

I'd heard Alex, Anne and Polly refer to the 'old vicars wife' many times in the past. She evidently heard about Andy and myself and made it her self appointed task to try and spy on us. The woman had waited YEARS to catch us at something and have us arrested. In this case, the charge would be public indecency and an Illegal sexual conduct charge. IF they caught us, that is!

Michael waited until they knocked and then answered the door. He stated the occupants of the house were away and had been so since early morning. He then invited them in to see for themselves. The two officers weren't all that interested it seemed and only wanted to check out the garden. Michael showed them to it and they spent perhaps two minutes looking about.

"When the owner returns this afternoon, have him give us a call" the senior one said and gave Michael a card. "Is there anything else, officers?" our huge American security man asked. "No, don't have him call" he said after reconsidering "However, you might want to warn your employer the old looney next block over has it out for him. She's a regular for calling into the station, she is! Losing her wits about her, now that she's up in years".

"Is she starting to imagine things?" Michael asked. "Hmmm" the Officer uttered "Called last week saying she'd spotted Adolph Hitler in the Heath. Feeding the pigeons, he was". "OHhhh!" Michael said, nodding his head knowingly. "I'll be sure and keep an eye out for him! Thank you for the warning!"

He waited perhaps twenty or thirty minutes before calling us to say all was clear. "You two are lucky! They think the old ladies cracked!" he told us. In the mean time we'd been getting a lecture from Polly.

"I can't believe the two of you! This could have been real trouble" she scolded "Couldn't you at least wait until you were inside?" Andrew and I glanced to one another then to the floor or the wall. "No!" we both giggled. "Oh!!" Polly barked "You two are like little children sometimes!"

Andrew and I honestly tried not to giggle, but it was useless. All we could do was sit leaned up against one another and squirm as we laughed. Polly shook her head and looked at Skippy, who she was holding. "I hope you have better sense than your Fathers do!"

After all this time, Andrew finally got the very top room in the house converted into our new bedroom. Showing it off to Anita, he'd asked "Isn't it wonderful?" Anita remarked "Looks how I imagine a Moroccan whorehouse might. If one were on LSD at the time, that is". "Pffhhhttt!" Andy exhaled "I think you're jealous!" Anita grinned and patted his shoulder "Good, Andrew! You keep thinking that!"

She and Polly teased us for weeks about our "Brothel" upstairs. None the less, we liked it! The odd angled walls had given Andy a way of displaying some of the Surrealist, Modern and Pop art I'd collected. Above the head of the bed he placed a large Roy Lichtenstein. He even found bed sheets (I wish I could find some of these now!) with Dali's 1931 painting "The Persistence of Memory" silk-screened on them.

Hiring a graphic artist to paint the room, they'd worked out an 'optical illusion' whereby the walls and ceiling seemed to 'float' away from their actual angles. Paintings displayed upon them looked as if they were almost suspended in air! A very clever effect. (It should be noted here that, after we occupied the new bedroom, the first time Andrew got drunk at the pub he slept downstairs on the sofa. Seems the room made him dizzy!)

Steven had been upset when Andrew first disappeared, but then realized he'd overworked and over stressed him. That's not mentioning the contributing effect it had on our relationship. He felt terrible and I think this was why he was the last of our friends to greet our return.

When he did, he spent the first twenty minutes apologizing before Andrew said cheerfully "We know you're sorry Steven. Now, what did you bring us for a welcome home present?" Steven stared dumbfounded for a moment, then laughed.

"Same old Andy!" he remarked, then asked "What's this rumor I hear 'bout you two being Fathers?" Andy said "Oh, Yes! Come on, We'll introduce you!" He led the way into the library again, where Polly was playing with Skip. Andrew reached down, picked the boy up and handed him to Steven, saying "Steven, this is Andrew Simon van Ryan the third!" Steven had just cradled him in his arms when Skippy decided to soil himself. "Oh!" Steven said handing him back "I see he has your sense of timing!"

I practically soiled myself from laughing!....

.......Continued

Next: Chapter 29


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