All the characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, either living or dead, is entirely unintentional.
The story is copyrighted and may not be reproduced in any way without the express permission of the author who can be contacted at:
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PJ
D'n'M Part 7
From Chapter 1:
Suddenly there was his mum, wrapping him in a fierce and consoling hug, whispering words of love and reassurance, guiding him gently to his childhood bedroom and its comforting familiarity.
Then, sleep -- black, empty, enveloping sleep.
Chapter 2:
"Let's get this straight. You're telling us that Milo had sex with Nico when he was in Buenos Aires?" The disbelief in Helen's voice couldn't have been more obvious. "D, do you know what you're saying?"
"No, mum, they didn't actually have sex." Dan paused. Even after several blissful hours of near-unconsciousness, he was still feeling totally washed out, still feeling the effects of the last twenty-four hours in his body and in his mind, still wishing, as he had been doing for at least half an hour, that his mum would stop with the inquisition. But he knew that wasn't going to happen, not until she was satisfied that she'd wormed out of him every single painful detail of his last conversation with M.
"But M wanted to. He told me, came right out and said he'd got the hots for his own nephew." His words were becoming increasingly heated. "He's just a kid, mum. And his own mum hasn't been gone more than a few weeks." Increasingly uncontrolled. "It's sick." Increasingly hysterical. "Sick!" He was almost shouting through the tears that were, once again, welling up behind his eye lids.
It was later the same day, five o'clock in the afternoon. Dan had slept for ten hours straight, had showered and dressed in clothes left in his room from when he'd last slept there as a teenager, had been persuaded to eat some of his dad's mushroom scrambled eggs and French toast, and now he was on the big sofa, with his dad on one side and his mum sitting opposite. He felt almost human again -- almost. But mostly he still felt empty. And angry. And numb. And here was his mum sounding as if she didn't believe him about M and Nico; sounding as if she was on M's side. He could feel himself tensing up. He was distantly aware of his dad squeezing his knee and gently rubbing a familiar hand up and down his thigh.
"I don't disbelieve you, D, really I don't," continued Helen.
"Well it sure as fu..., it sure doesn't sound like that," responded Dan before his mum could continue. "It sounds exactly as if you don't believe me. But I'm telling you, M right out admitted that Nico got himself naked and came on to him after he'd showered. And M was more than keen to jump the poor kid right there and then. Could barely control himself. Said Nico reminded him of me when I was fourteen and how much he'd wanted to get it on with me." Dan's tears were flowing freely now, but whether of sadness or anger he really couldn't say. He was vaguely aware of Roger increasing the pressure on his leg.
"Whoa! Just rewind there for a minute." Like a dog with a new smell to investigate, it seemed as if Helen had picked up on something new. "Did you say it was Nico who started the whole thing? Or at least, tried to? That he'd stripped naked and waited for M to finish his shower and come back into the bedroom?"
Dan had already been through the whole sick story once, but this was, indeed, the first time he'd mentioned the part about it having been Nico who had offered himself up to Milo in the first place.
"And that it brought back memories of you at the same age?" Helen was suddenly in full, `I'm-your-mum-and-I-expect-a-straight-answer' interrogation mode.
"Yeah, that's what he said. That Nico had looked like some young Greek god and was spread out on the bed, all primed and ready to go -- if you get what I mean."
"Yes, we get the picture." Roger spoke for the first time since they'd all sat down. "No need to go into every detail."
"Yes, you're right, Rog, we can pretty much fill in the blanks, but what D's just said is not just some minor detail. It's a really important piece of the picture. And it seems to me that it makes a huge difference. Don't you see that, D? It wasn't M who set the ball rolling."
"No, I don't see." There was a real edge to Dan's voice. "M seriously wanted to have sex with his fourteen-year-old nephew. How is that anything but disgusting?" He was on his feet now and pacing. Roger shot an alarmed glance across at his wife. In his view, Dan didn't need to have any more of his buttons pressed. But Helen ignored the look. She was determined to get to the bottom of this situation. She realised, perhaps better than her husband, how close Dan and Milo were to disaster.
"Dan, just stop and think for a minute. Think how difficult everything has been ever since you first found out about Nico; since you read in Kate's letter about their life in Buenos Aires; since he came to live with you; since he turned on the silent treatment and did everything he could to hurt you and shut you out. Think how stressed you and M have both been, coping with the boy's anger and resentment, trying to make this unfamiliar and unexpected life work for you all. Think how worried you've been, not only about Nico but also about Gerry and his health. Your father and I have seen how it's all built up and up and affected you both. And your relationship. Everything has been thrown completely out of whack. It's been a really, really awful time."
"So! Even if any of that is true, how does it make any sort of difference?" Dan knew that everything his mum had just said was true. He couldn't deny it, even to himself. But he was nowhere near in the right head space to be reasonable or to acknowledge that, like every coin, there were two sides to this story. He wanted -- no, expected -- his mum to be totally on his side and to back him up 100%.
"Yeah, I'm not gonna deny that the last few weeks have been difficult, but what happened in that hotel room in Buenos Aires was before Nico came to live with us."
"I think you mean what didn't happen, son." This was Roger, choosing to make his first significant contribution to the discussion. "You just said that Milo didn't actually lay a finger on the boy, even though that's obviously what Nico was angling for. For reasons that I can't even pretend to understand."
"Your dad is right. And have you stopped to think what that whole sorry mess in the hotel room tells us about Nico's state of mind? How damaged he's been by the life that Kate put him through? It horrifies me to think that he believes that behaviour of that sort is any kind of normal. If anyone's at fault here it's Kate," Helen added emphatically.
Dan couldn't believe what he was hearing. Both his parents seemed to be going out of their way to see every point of view except the most important one -- his; wouldn't accept that his husband, the man he'd never imagined could cheat on him, had wanted something way, way worse than ordinary cheating -- he'd wanted to have sex with a child. It was like Mr. Baker all over again. Dan's whole body shivered. He turned back towards his mother.
"And how can you be sure that M wasn't planning it all along?" Dan's anger was taking over. "Hadn't started working out how he was gonna fu ... have sex with him as soon as he found out that Nico had been selling his body for years? Saw an opportunity to ..."
"Dan! Stop! Just stop!" Helen shouted. "Listen to yourself. How can you even think such horrible things, much less say them out loud?" Helen was on her feet and angrily facing Dan across the coffee table that occupied the no-man's-land between them. "This is Milo you're talking about. Milo, the only boy you say you could ever love. The man who has stood by you through thick and thin. The person who has never given you any reason to believe any of the horrible things you've been saying about him. You should be ashamed of yourself." She sat down, cold fury written across her face.
Dan stood, staring down at the floor, his mother's words bouncing around inside his head. But it was what Roger said next that really pulled him up short.
"Would you feel so outraged if Nico was, in fact, Nicola? A girl, not a boy." Dan wasn't sure what point his dad was trying to make. There was no way that M would ever show the slightest interest in a girl, not of any age, and he knew that his dad knew it. "Now don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to justify the idea of a grown man wanting to have sex with someone underage, but would you be feeling so betrayed if it was a girl that Milo had the hots for?"
"Nico's his nephew dad, not just some random kid."
"That's true, but there are many cultures and parts of the world where relationships between family members are completely normal. Places where marriages between first cousins, uncles and nieces, happen all the time." Roger was deliberately keeping his tone calm and reasonable and as non-confrontational as he could. He was well aware just how challenging his line of questioning was becoming. "All I'm asking you to do is to work out exactly what it is that you find so unacceptable about what M told you. Is it the sex? Nico's age? That M's your husband and promised, in front of witnesses at your wedding, never to cheat on you? What is it, exactly, that makes you feel so outraged?"
"And, maybe, you could put that in the context of everything that has been going on in your life, in Milo's life, these last few weeks," added Helen. "Are you really ready to throw away everything that you and M have fought for and built up together?"
For a long moment there was no sound in the room as the three of them mentally ran back over what had been said. It was Roger who broke the silence.
"I've never told you this before, Dan, but it took me quite a while to get my head around the fact of you and M being together - a couple - especially with you saying that you're not gay. But I've come to see what the two of you mean to each other and to understand what an unbelievably strong bond you have. A love like the one you share is rare and something totally special. Believe me, it's not like an old toy to be thrown away or abandoned over a misunderstanding. Or in the heat of a stressed-out moment," he added.
Just a minute. Had Dan heard right? Did his dad just say that he wasn't comfortable with his son being in a same-sex relationship? That he wasn't happy, even? What the fuck? As he was trying to get his head around the implication of Roger's words it occurred to him that he couldn't remember the last time he'd heard his dad speak like that - about love and relationships - with such emotion and conviction. Actually, couldn't remember it ever happening before. Helen, watching closely from the sofa, was sure that it never had, and she couldn't help but feel both surprised and proud. She'd known, of course, right from the start, about Roger's reservations regarding Dan and Milo being together. Unlike her, he hadn't seen it coming, especially as it was right off the back of Dan dating Christy which had, on the face of it, seemed to be going pretty well. But she hoped Roger's words, clearly a surprise to Dan judging by the look on his face, would bring him to his senses. Something needed to. The thought of him and Milo breaking up was unbearable and she was prepared to do everything she could to make sure it didn't happen. But she also knew that, at the end of the day, it was for the two of them to work out a way through the emotional minefield that had suddenly sprung up around them when Nico had entered their lives.
Dan wasn't thinking about minefields, though he was definitely feeling bombarded from all sides -- his mum shouting at him, his dad being unhappy about the whole Milo thing and then trying to justify a grown man and a teenage kid hooking up. But mostly there was M. M was his rock. His lover. His life. But, then again, was he? Was he still his M? Still the only man he could ever love? Still his reason for going to bed at night? Or was the whole thing just some huge mistake? Had he thrown away more than half his life on someone that he really didn't know at all? Had the fact of Nico turning up in their lives been the key that opened the door to reveal the truth that Milo had been hiding for all these years? What was that phrase his dad sometimes came out with for something that wasn't real? -- "All smoke and mirrors." Yes, that was it, smoke and mirrors. Is that what all their years together had been? Their marriage? The future that Dan had imagined for the two of them? Their whole relationship from when they'd first met in the park aged just four years old?
Dan's head felt like a balloon that someone was continuingly blowing up to the point where it would take just one more breath for it to explode into a million pieces. He staggered sideways and was only stopped from falling flat on the floor by Roger who, in the instant before, had realised what was about to happen and had jumped up, catching his son in his arms and then gently supported him back to the sofa, slumped against the cushions.
Dan wasn't sure if he'd actually blacked-out - maybe just for a few seconds - but the sight and feel of being cradled in his dad's arms was enough to make him think that, somehow (and he definitely didn't know how) everything really was gonna be okay.
It was Helen who spoke. She, too, had moved quickly across the room and was now perched on the arm of the sofa, stroking Dan's hand and smiling reassuringly. She couldn't, however, keep the depth of her anxiety out of her voice. "Dan, my lovely, lovely boy, you mustn't make yourself ill. Nobody wants that and it certainly won't help with finding a way through all this."
"Your mum's right. And you've got to know that we'll do anything, everything, we can to help you and M sort out this, ... this situation."
Dan did know, and a wave of gratitude washed over him, understanding, as he did, that there was no way that he and M would be able to do it on their own. This was too big, too overwhelming, too scary.
"So, how's this for a plan?" suggested Helen. "Why not go back to bed for an hour or so, give yourself a chance to catch up on some more of the sleep you missed out on last night? Then, when you're feeling more rested, and have had a chance to get a decent meal inside you, then we can sit down together and calmly talk things through."
On the face of it this was a perfectly reasonable and logical suggestion, and Dan was quick to agree. He thought that, yes, a few more hours of sleep, when he wouldn't have to think of everything that had happened, would be very welcome. What he didn't suspect was that, behind his mum's innocent-seeming suggestion, she had her own secret agenda. Helen wanted to get Dan safely tucked up in his boyhood bedroom, well out of earshot, giving her and Roger the time and opportunity to carefully and methodically go over every shocking revelation that had been thrown at them since Tom's phone call early that morning. She, for one, was still inwardly shell-shocked from what Dan had told them about what had, or, maybe, hadn't, happened between M and Nico in that hotel room thousands of miles away. And she wanted to speak to M, to get him to explain exactly what he'd said to D, to try to get some sense of what had driven her precious boy to spend the night wandering the streets, half-dressed, bare-footed and out of his mind with sadness.
There was no way that Helen was prepared for the sight that greeted her as Milo warily opened the door to the apartment. He looked haggard. Yes, that was the word for it, as if the blood had drained out of his body leaving just water in his veins. There were dark rings around his eyes and, somehow, his usually lightly tanned skin had taken on the pallor of raw pastry. His shoulders were hanging so drooped and low that they looked as if they were trying to escape from the rest of his body. He clearly hadn't showered and he was dressed in only his underwear. Immediately her mind went back to that horrible day when she'd arrived home to find Milo sitting hunched on her front steps, distraught and desperate -- the day his mum had thrown him out of the house for being something that he had absolutely no control over. For being gay.
She gently pushed at the door but Milo put up no resistance. He had seen no-one, spoken to no-one since D had stormed out. It had taken many hours and all the strength he could find to pull himself off the floor and onto the bed; the bed that he'd shared with D; the bed where he'd experienced some of the greatest and most joyful moments of his life; the bed that had always been a place of comfort and security. He'd been so tired, but he hadn't been able to lie on the bed, much less sleep in it. It no longer held any sense of comfort or security. He felt only rejection and loneliness. So he'd summoned the last of his strength and rolled back onto the floor. And there he'd stayed, more or less conscious, until he'd become aware of, first, the ringing of the doorbell, and then, when there'd been no response, the loud thudding of someone banging and banging to get his attention.
That's why it was a barely-recognisable version of Milo who Helen threw her arms around and pulled closely against her own body, gently supporting him back along the hallway towards the sitting room. They didn't speak as she sat with him, holding his hand, letting the minutes roll by until she felt his breath slowing and the tension in his body begin to ebb away. Then she began the rehab process, steering him towards the shower before putting on the coffee and searching in the fridge for the ingredients for some sort of simple meal.
When Milo emerged, clean, dressed and hungry, though still looking barely alive, she was able to set out a mug of strong coffee and a plate of cheesy scrambled eggs and toast. Slowly, silently Milo worked his way through the food that had been put in front of him. Still nothing was said, until, eventually,
"How's D? Is he okay? Has he told you?"
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