Though there were no more insinuating remarks or sneers from Dylan, the rest of the day proved torturously awkward. That evening after he'd provoked Mason into losing his temper Dylan did indeed arrive promptly at the dinner table, sullen and dour. Though Aidan had chosen to spend the evening grilling on the patio in the frigid temperatures "for something special for Dylan" the boy hardly took three bites of the steak, baked potatoes, and roasted seasoned corn they'd picked up from the market before returning earlier in the day. Instead he chose to sit glaring at the half-filled glass of soda he'd been served, his occasional gaze shooting darts at Mason.
Mason knew he should've been worried about Aidan's reaction when he realized Mason and Dylan had had words the first evening off. But the more he silently stewed over his own dinner, stabbing murderously at his half-eaten steak, the more his own stubbornness reared and roared within him. How dare that little whelp come into their house, into his and Mason's home, and immediately start making remarks about his and Aidan's relationship!
How dare he, now having some idea about the truth of his and Aidan's biological tie and his own conception, come into this house spouting his father's self-righteous hypocrisies about whether gay men were right or wrong to love! Bradley McManus had slept with half the women in the county before leaving to take care of this boy! But as the evening progressed, and he kept finding himself under Aidan's piercing questioning gaze, Mason knew it was no good. Aidan might as well know the truth!
Mason took his time that evening in facing the discussion he knew was coming with Aidan. "There was no rush," he told himself. After all he'd have to face Aidan's fury over what he'd said to his younger brother soon enough, and there were dishes to do! So with the excuse of "giving Aidan and Dylan time together" Mason set about keeping busy and out of the way for much of the evening. The only problem with this was that he'd no more than set to his chores than a quiet voice spoke from the doorway, causing his heart to practically halt its rhythm within him.
"So, you've already had a row, have you?"
Mason braced himself for the oncoming explosion of Aidan's anger he feared was rumbling just beneath the surface. But when he turned to face Aidan he found him heaving with silent laughter! Mason stared at Aidan for a moment, not sure what to make of the scene before him. Unsure of how to judge Aidan's reaction he began spluttering an offer of apology. "Look, I was going to talk to you about this, really I was! I planned to speak with you about it tonight, when we had some private time. I'm afraid.......well, you probably already know I lost my temper and said some hateful things. But he was deliberately pushing my buttons! He......he...."
Aidan casually pushed away from where he'd been leaned against the doorpost, his laughter now filling the house. Despite his best effort to remain calm Mason felt himself tense as two strong arms swiftly wrapped around him and jerked him into a crushing hold. But when he chanced a glance into the two blue eyes that sparkled down at him he was relieved to realize that they shown with a mischievous light, and a deep voice rumbled in a half-whisper. "And here I was worried about being the one who would get mad and let him have it! You're turning into a little spitfire, you know that?" Mason practically collapsed against the counter as Aidan released him, winked and headed back out of the kitchen, offering one last explanation over his shoulder.
"Oh, and by the way.............I was in our bedroom when it happened, your getting upset...........I overheard the whole thing!"
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If Aidan and Mason had hoped for some sign of progress throughout the following weeks they were to be sorely disappointed. Though Aidan blamed Mason for nothing, it seemed Dylan was determined to hold some unspoken grudge against the two of them for they're being together. He remained steadfastly as silent and sullen as ever each time he came into a room where they were to be found. Most days he spent his hours reading or roaming the mountaintop bald when the weather was fit for outdoor activity, anywhere away from them. It seemed he was determined to never allow them to forget how he felt, or rather as they suspected, how his father felt about their relationship.
Many nights Mason was to lie awake as Aidan grumbled about his father's hypocrisy of seemingly instilling the young man with such high moral standards on certain issues, only to have conveniently forgotten to explain and instruct him in others. Though Mason didn't want to widen the rift between Aidan and his father, especially during this time when Brad was facing a terminal illness, he had to agree. It seemed more than a little bit of a double standard to preach about one sin and neglect another! But regardless of what effort either of them made to reach out to the young man who now cohabited with them their attempts and offers of some form of family life were rejected.
Finally came the day when Aidan came thundering down the hall of the second floor, his eyes ablaze and his jaw firm, thundering to Mason as he landed at the bottom of the stair. "I've had it! I tell you enough is enough! I've tried everything I can think of to reach out to that kid. We've offered him everything from video games and cell phones, to fishing rods and shotguns! I've offered to sign him up for sports teams at the high school while he's here, or even taking music or art classes if he wanted, but nothing gets through to him! He's made his mind up he wants to sit up in that room and pout from now until doomsday, so let him do it!"
Mason watched Aidan wrench the refrigerator door open and grab a pre-made protein shake before slouching back up the stairs toward his workout room, his heart aching for Aidan. Aidan had promised him with his sworn word that he didn't hold Mason responsible for the way the young man was acting. But still Mason couldn't help but feel more than a bit guilty as he recalled the first afternoon Dylan had arrived. He'd said some pretty ugly things to the young man, and more than once since then he'd wondered if he might not have made things worse between Dylan and Aidan. But if only there was something he could do!
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The obnoxious bell gave a teeth-chattering ring that echoed along the hallway. The warning bell....Dang! He was gonna be late again! Dylan hurried along the hallway, now practically deserted, save for a few stragglers and the few students who'd taken the long ride from the distant part of the county with him. He grumbled to himself for the thousandth time that morning, wishing on one hand that the bus could've arrived five minutes earlier, but knowing that would've meant him having to crawl out of bed that much earlier than he already resented doing. Why on God's green earth did they have to live on top of that stupid mountain?!
He hurried along the corridors of the Math Department, his ears growing ever more aware of all footsteps but his own disappearing into various rooms along the hallway. He hated being late! Stupid bus driver! He would have to ride the bus driven by some old geezer who did half the speed limit! He wouldn't have minded being so late to some of his other classes, but this was Mr Webb! Dylan's heart skipped a beat at the thought. Mr Webb. He wasn't sure what it was, but there was something he'd always liked about his algebra teacher.
Chad Webb wasn't like the other old fossils who roamed the halls. At only around 35 he was still a tall, muscular man who held the respect and admiration of his students. He had a way of making what, at least to Dylan, normally would've been one of the most boring subjects in school a rather enjoyable experience. It wasn't as if algebra was Dylan's best subject. Oh, heck no! In fact Dylan had struggled to play catch-up since moving in with his older brother. But Mr Webb had been so kind as to offer to spend some time after school each day with Dylan, until he'd caught up with his classmates.
Normally spending any more time around school than necessary would've been the last thing Dylan would've been interested in. He hated school! He would've never considered spending extra hours around school campus had Mr Webb not phoned Aidan one night and explained that he believed Dylan to need a bit of extra help. But hesitant as Dylan had been to consider the idea of "tutoring" it had taken only a couple of after-hour visits to Mr Webb's classroom to change his mind. Mr Webb was........there was no other way to say it.....cool!
He was an athletic man ( anyone could tell that just by looking at those snug shirts he wore!) He wasn't as brawny as Aidan, but anyone who spent as much time staring at someone as Dylan spent staring at Chad Webb could still see that he was quite lean and trim! Dylan guessed all that running up and down the soccer field with the kids he coached had something to do with that. But that was another thing Dylan liked about Mr Webb; he wasn't your typical football jock! Athletic as he was, he was also a Star Trek fan, and he liked old musicals! While most of the kids bemoaned "Mr Webb's stupidity" for quoting Brigadoon and Singing In the Rain, Dylan clung to every word as though it were the last he'd hear.
Mr Webb liked One Direction.............how cool was that?! Most old people, Aidan's age and older didn't care for that stuff. But on more than one occasion Dylan and Mr Webb had spent time having heated mock arguments over "which album was the best," and "which of Harry's tattoos was coolest." Yes, the simple fact was that Chad Webb had turned out to be the best friend Dylan had since moving here to this cowtown!
He mentally shook himself as he simultaneously reached for the door and checked his watch on his other arm. Oh crap! 9:05! He couldn't believe he'd just spent the last five minutes daydreaming about "how cool" a teacher was! He turned the nob, hastily but quietly as he could, and crept toward an empty desk along the back row.He was going to have to be more careful. If he didn't watch where he allowed his mind to wonder he'd wind up acting just as strange as that.........that gay at Aidan's house!
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Paul Williams had been Aidan's closest friend throughout his time in the service. While a few years older than the group of boys he'd been in charge of "making soldiers out of," Sergeant Williams had still been young enough to earn the respect, and more importantly friendship of his charges. A southerner himself, he and Aidan had struck an immediate friendship that had lasted throughout basic training, and two tours of duty in the Middle East, where the beloved sergeant had requested transfer to serve alongside Aidan's own company.
A robust, larger-than-life personality, Williams had been the subject of many of Aidan's stories and recollections of their time together in the service. But Williams' military career had taken a tragic turn of events during the last month of the company's being stationed in Iraq. Suffering life-threatening wounds from an IED blast, Williams had been flown back to the States as soon as his condition had been stabilized sufficiently for him to safely make the trip. But the road to recovery had been a long, painful one for Paul Williams.
As fate was to have it Williams had lost a leg and sight in one of his eyes due to the blast that had nearly taken his life that day on the dusty roads of Iraq. Though once again a jovial, seemingly carefree personality, Williams had spent two excruciating years being constantly moved from hospital to rehab facility for yet more skin grafts and therapy in hopes of reconstructing his scarred body, and that he might one day regain his mobility. But though many of his former friends and comrades had shied away from their once-beloved superior, not being able to cope with the effects and scars of Williams' wounds themselves, Aidan's own loyalty to the wounded warrior had grown, if possible, fiercer.
Hardly a day went by that either Aidan or Williams didn't phone the other. It amazed Mason at how the one-time sergeant, known for "busting a man's ass if he didn't tow his line," had transformed and mellowed into a mild, soft-spoken southern gentleman who's deep voice rumbled pleasantly across the telephone. Mason often listened quietly outside the door of the den or other rooms where Aidan's and his friend's conversations took place and marveled at the simple, genuine friendship that had grown between them from the torturous conditions they'd face together.
Sometimes their conversations were of the simplest of things, the weather, or a football game. But then again two men such as they, two men who'd seen the worst of life and humanity, knew how to appreciate the simplest of blessings in life! Soldiers such as they knew just how precious life was, just how great a blessing each day of life truly was, and they knew to appreciate those little things. Mason often stood just outside a doorway with a smile as he listened to the chatter and natter between his beloved Aidan and his own friend. But as the winter days slowly transformed into the first early days of springtime Mason noticed a worrying change. The calls from Williams became fewer and fewer until one day he and Aidan both realized that they'd stopped altogether.
For a time Aidan merely shrugged the fact off as a possibility of a family vacation, or a sudden, unexpected trip out of town. ( "Maybe he just needed to get away for a while! ") But as the time since their last conversation grew ever longer Mason noticed that Aidan did seem a bit worried about his friend. Mason attempted to assure Aidan in every way he thought possible as to his friend's sudden disappearance. But eventually came the telephone call, late one rainy spring night, that brought terrible news. Williams had contracted an infection during his last surgery for skin grafting, and was now in critical condition. His wife's call had ended quite ominously. ("If you want to see Paul alive you might want to get down here quick!")
Mason had helped Aidan hastily pack a bag of clothes for the trip to Williams' Savannah home, and had wished him safe travel. But as he listened to the muffled rumble of the Mustang, already well out of sight, he couldn't help but worry. What was he going to do about Dylan? The kid hated him! There was no sense in sugar coating the truth. The boy couldn't have made his feelings for Mason any clearer during the time he'd been here; he resented everything about Mason! Mason sadly shook his head as he listened to the last echoes of Aidan's mustang. He couldn't explain what he felt, but there was more wrong than just Paul Williams. Something wasn't right. And though he'd never been one for instinct and "gut feelings," something told him his uneasiness had to do with Dylan.