*DISCLAIMER: This story is fiction, any reflection of real life and any description of an area or person is purely coincidental.
This story is about a young man who discovers himself and love as well as a few supernatural surprises along the way. There is death, love, hate, friendship, and bigotry.
There are potentially scenes of M/M sexual contact in each chapter, do not continue reading if reading text of this nature is illegal where you are located, likewise if you are under the legal age to read pornographic material.
Please enjoy and feel free to send comments. This is my first story being submitted to Nifty.
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Chapter 04:
I slowly regained consciousness in the morning. I had forgotten the beautiful ache the morning after a good fuck. After nearly a minute of willing myself awake I realized John was no longer in bed with me, glancing at the alarm clock it was shortly after 11am. Fuck. I need to get up to get mom's lunch ready. Getting to the shower is key. There's little I want less than to walk out into the kitchen smelling like sex to greet my mother good morning. The shower felt great, getting all the sweat and cum off me that John's quick cloth didn't get the night before. Throwing on some gym shorts I headed off to determine if John was still here or gone, and to get lunch ready for my mother and I.
Walking down the stairs I could hear my mother talking but there was no one responding. Her voice was sounding so very weak. As much as I wanted to deny it, my mother was going to die soon. I knew it, she knew it. It was the epitome of the elephant in the room. We just kept on keeping on as my mother likes to say. Getting down the stairs I glanced into the living room, noticing it empty, and continued into the kitchen, seeing my mother sitting in her chair and talking on the phone.
I couldn't stop something inside of me from being upset that John wasn't there, I hardly knew him, we'd spent one night together, but damn if I wasn't becoming attached. I kept hoping to turn around and see his tall, (well, taller than me), lean, quarterback built body. His face giving that cocky grin and dazzling teeth under the black hair that never seems to be completely tamed, but never what one would call messy, all seemingly existing to frame those eyes blacker than the darkest obsidian. Impossibly black, they truly were. Even looking at them from inches away, it was nearly impossible to tell where his iris ended and his pupil began unless he was laughing or staring intently then he had shimmers of silver that shone through. I noticed that last night before we got into bed, it had felt like a huge revelation.
"Jake!" Huh? Oh shit I was daydreaming.
"Yes mother?"
"Where were you? That was the fourth time I said your name. What happened last night, spill. That look on your face just now tells me something happened. C'mon, I wanna hear it."
My face began to flush, I couldn't talk about sex with my mother, let alone sex with a man! "Mommmm, please, no. I had a good time, can we just leave it at that?"
"I imagine it was a bit more than just a good time considering that hunk of a man who was walking down the driveway this morning as I was waking up and the couch was most certainly not slept on. Don't you dare tell me you didn't get laid last night! I'm dying, not dead."
All the blood that had just risen to my face now drained out and dragged my jaw with it. "Mother!"
"Don't you 'mother' me, Jake. This is honestly the happiest I have ever seen you. It makes me happy that at least once before my time is up that I got to see real happiness on your face. It suits you. It makes me so so very happy to see you finally look happy."
Wow. I had no idea she could tell how sad I was all this time. "Yes mom, last night was great, and yes John spent the night with me...in my bed. That's all I'm going to say, use your imagination. And yes, I'm happy. I really hope it wasn't just a one night stand. I hope he can take the steps to make it into something, but given that he basically ran away this morning. I don't know if that'll happen any time soon. Oh, and who did you call? I didn't hear the phone ring."
"I called my lawyer to make sure everything was finalized for passing everything of mine into your name and the interment and casket all paid for next to your father. He assured me everything was set and ready."
"This is terrible to think let alone say out loud, but for once I'm glad none of us three had siblings, I don't want to go through this ever again." I could barely contain my emotions by now, all this death and talking about death was starting to pull at my final threads of sanity.
"I know Jake, and you're handling it better than anyone could've asked for. I love you so much, I hope you know that." She didn't say it, but the look on her face said that she was actually saying it out loud because she didn't know if she'd get another chance tomorrow.
The rest of the day and in fact the whole next week went quietly, just household stuff and spending time with my mother. Only venturing into town to get groceries. I had not heard from John at all; I was determined that I would not be the one to seek him out. I had made it clear to him, at least I thought, that I was interested in him. No promises were made, so I wasn't going to dwell on it, didn't mean I couldn't be upset and mad, but I wasn't going to let it ruin my time with my mother. I never had the chance to spend this much time alone with my mother, it was great.
Sleeping at night was difficult. I couldn't help but think about John non-stop as soon as I got into bed. I had not changed the sheets, hoping to retain his scent a little bit longer. On top of the smell of our sex assaulting my senses, though after a few days it was basically gone, the wolves, or at least a couple of them, seemed to have taken up a den in the forest not far from my house. They seemed to be up all hours of the night howling and yipping close by. On more than one occasion looking out my window I could swear I saw a set of eyes catch light from the moon looking out from the edge of the forest.
It was the second Monday after my date with John that my mother went to sleep the night before and never woke up. I took it well, I think, I did what had to be done, called the people that needed to be called and that Friday I hosted the celebration of her life like she did for my father and like she asked for herself. There were many people there consoling me, bringing food for me for the next week or so to relieve me of needing to cook. Many times I caught whispers, "poor boy, losing both parents within a month of each other", "not a single other family member in the world", it was true, I couldn't fault them for it, I was alone now.
It was nearly the end of the evening, the announcement had said 6pm end time, it was 5:45, and I was talking with the last person still there when John showed up. I could practically feel when he walked in, even though I had my back to the propped open door. He hadn't made even the slightest sound, but I could somehow feel that he was there. I stopped mid-sentence and that was when the person I was talking with noticed him too. She politely said good-bye and was on her way, leaving John standing in the doorway and me standing with my back to him.
"John...you missed the celebration." I was not going to show my pain to him. I was going to be the bigger man, just, with my back to him.
"I'm sorry." It sounded like there was a lot of pain in those two words. I wanted to believe that the pain that was in his voice was real. That the emotion that I thought I felt behind those words meant more than just sorry about the missing the celebration. I wanted to believe he actually was sorry for not calling even to say hi for over a week. Normally I'm not this clingy or attached easily, but something just pulled me to him like nothing I'd ever experienced before.
I pointed to the montage I had set up, with pictures of my mother and our family, "the montage is there if you want to take a look, there's some food in the kitchen. If you don't mind, I'd like to start cleaning up so I can have an early night tonight, the wolves have been keeping me awake most nights, so I'd like to get to bed before they're out tonight." I still had not looked at him. I turned and kept my eyes to the floor opposite of him and walked towards the kitchen. By time I got to where I'd be walking through the door, John was blocking my way. How the hell did he get from the door to standing in front of me without making a sound.
"Yes?" I couldn't keep the shaking apprehension out of my feeble voice.
"I truly am sorry. I have been meaning to call or stop by, both honestly. My father..."
"No."
"No?"
"No. Don't make excuses. There were no promises made, no expectations laid out. It was a good night. Now, please, pay your respects, help yourself to food and then... and then..." I couldn't tell him to leave. If I was honest with myself, I didn't want to be alone, and beyond that I wanted him to be sorry and to care and to be here with me. The finality of everything had kicked in. I was truly and utterly alone and despite barely even knowing each other before my father's life-celebration, he was the only person I felt I could actually speak to and connect with. We had had good conversations that night before the sex began.
"You're right, Jake. No promises were made or expectations spelled out, that doesn't change my feelings though. I just don't have things in place to face off against my father. It would leave my sister and mother vulnerable. I don't have a place to go to take my sister with me and be able to afford supporting both of us."
"So, what, are you going to live with your parents for the next year? Celena is graduating high school next summer and will probably get out on her own, but your mother is married to the man. She chose him. You could get out and take your sister with you. You must make enough to do that. Hell, you could live here, I certainly have enough space for it and that would save you needing to find a place." The words just spilled out without my thinking about them. My word-vomit was getting pretty severe. Move in with me? I just offered him to move in with me. We fucked once and hung out once. Once, and I was asking him to move in with me? Was I going insane? No, it didn't feel insane, it felt right.
The silence felt like a hundred pound weight on my chest. Finally he spoke, "do.. do you mean that? If I stand up to my father and tell him I'm gay, I will be kicked out, and I will take my sister with me, so it'd be a two for one deal, and ... there's some other... baggage, I guess you could call it, of mine that you need to know before that can happen. Baggage that you have to either accept or swear on your mothers grave you'll keep secret until your dying breath." He sounded as apprehensive about it as me at first, but that last bit about accepting his baggage or taking it to my grave as a secret, what the hell kind of baggage did he have and how did he go from apprehensive at the start to saying that last part with more authority and conviction than I'd ever heard from someone, not to mention the slight sound of pleading in his voice.
After a short pause to catch my thoughts, I spoke instead of just thinking it, "if it's murder, homicide, rape, molestation, or pedophilia, you can get out right now and avoid the trouble of having to say it out loud. I think...most anything else, I think I might be able to handle it."
This somehow earned a small chuckle apparently. "No...no, nothing like that Jake. This.. well, I guess you could say, is totally out of this world." There was that trademark shit-eating-grin, the one that was gaining more and more traction against my resolve the more he used it, and he seemed to know that too because he kept using it, unless it was just his default look. "If you'll forgive me for the past 9 days. I'd like to help you clean up, show you that I do care for you and then show you my baggage, and I really hope that you can accept what I show you, because regardless of whatever we have going on between us, I'd like us to always be, at the very least, friends, from now on."
I heard and understood what he said but I did not respond right away, and he didn't move. I stood there looking into his eyes, was he being serious? Show me that he cares for me? Show me his baggage? I'd already seen him naked, did he carry it in his clothes or vehicle? Was he being literal? "I do forgive you John, I was upset and hurt and wanted to be mad, but I'm not, at least, not anymore. I'd appreciate the help cleaning up and we'll get to the last two when the cleaning is done, that's the best I can do right now, I need more time to think but standing here and thinking is wasting time, I can think while cleaning. Ok?" I was able to say this while looking him in the eyes to show that I really meant what I was saying.
"Thank you Jake. I'll take it. I'll do the living room and hallway so you can do what you want with the food in the kitchen and dishes."
"Sounds like a plan. Thank you John, this really means a lot to me."
He leaned forward and pulled me into an embrace and kissed my forehead. "No problem babe, it's the least I can do."
With all the concentration on getting all the food to fit into containers and fit into the refrigerator and freezer so that the foods didn't go prematurely bad, I didn't get any time to really think until it was time for the dishes. I put what I could into the dishwasher and then got time to think while doing the mindless task of washing the rest of the dishes by hand. Was he being sincere? Was I really up for him moving in with me and bringing along his 17-turning-18-year-old, high school senior sister? It didn't take long for me to come to the conclusion that yes, I was ok with it, in fact I wanted it, if for no other reason than because I had no family or friends. None at all. Except John. I guess Simon and William are ok and could become friends, but right now, they're still just John's friends. Even if things don't work out as a relationship, we could end anything sexual before we ruined our friendship though a part of me was saying that it wouldn't fail, that impossibly this was going to last for a long time.
Then there was John's baggage. How bad could it be? Did he have a disease too? I don't think I could handle dealing with another person who was doomed to die early. What if it's AIDS or cancer? Oh man. This is where my brain usually starts running wild. All the years spent alone and friendless engendered a very strong imagination. After a while of my imagination running wild, imagining all kinds of scenarios from him having cancer like my mother all the way to incurable obscene athletes foot that he had managed to somehow cover up for one single night but would be impossible to cover all the time. It was at about that point that the sensible part of my brain kicked in and I resolved that I would make the promise to at the very least, keep it as a secret to my death if I couldn't handle it as knowledge of a friend or lover, I can at least do that much.
It felt like no time at all before everything was cleaned up and I was bringing a glass of water to him in the living room. We drank slowly, neither of us speaking. Finally, the water was gone and I realized that he was waiting for me to answer those final two questions. "Alright John. I swear on my mothers grave, that if you show me this...baggage, as you call it, I will at the very least keep the secret until I die, I can only promise that much though. I can't promise that I'll accept it into a relationship of any kind, just that I won't tell anyone about it." While saying this, I was able to see the emotions so openly playing across his face. Happy to sad in a second or less.
"I understand." The sun had nearly set by now, I hadn't thought cleaning up had taken so long, but apparently my perception of time while thinking and cleaning had went out the window. I waited for him to go and get whatever his baggage is, but instead he began to undress. This piqued my interest. Suggesting it was potentially one of the disease scenarios, since he wasn't getting anything. I don't remember running my hands over anything that night, and if it'd been contagious, oh no, what if it was something contagious and he never told me that night, we used a condom but we were kissing! As if he could sense I was scared now and somehow knew what I was thinking he stopped after getting off only his shirt and socks and shoes.
"No Jake, I'm not sick and it's not something you can catch. It's something you're born with, it's carried from one generation to the next on the female side of the family." Not sick. Ok, but it is something you're born with that's carried by the women of the family. Totally confusing, but then again I only had an associates degree in accounting, what did I know about biology or medicine, I was lucky to have passed biology class in high school with a C-. By now John had removed his jeans and was dropping his boxers and stepping out of them.
I took the time to look over his body in the daylight. He was exactly what I liked in a man. My breath caught in my throat as I drank in the details of his body. His face, taut and so very masculine. Arms and legs both long and obviously strong but not bulky. Chest built and muscular but not overly so, pecs that were solid with hard nipples poking out. A light dusting of hair just as dark as the hair on his head covered his pecs and down the center of his chest to his abs and over his stomach which was a nice set of abs. Just a bit lower hung that cock that had been so pleasuring a little over a week ago, soft and uncut, from experience I knew that it grew to be quite thick and pleasantly long. I noticed the well taken care of pubic hair that I only had the chance to feel against my ass last time and not gotten to explore like I so very much wanted to. After what felt like minutes of drinking up his naked body standing before me, I came to my senses and realized what I must have looked like. I looked up into his eyes and saw a humored look before he deadpanned, "like what you see?"
I barely managed to squeak out a "yes" before he continued, "I really hope that is still the case a minute from now" and then it looked like my eyes were going crazy, I could swear he started growing fur!*