This story contains sexual situations between males. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. If you are under 18 years of age you are probably not legally allowed to read this story. This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental. The author claims all copyrights in this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed (except by the web sites to which it has been posted) without the consent of the author.
After the tiring few days we'd had, the last thing I was expecting was that Ty would be in the mood for sex, but perhaps I was getting ahead of myself, and his invitation to join him in the shower was just that – let's have a shower together?
Either way, I was happy. It was a relief for me to see Ty functioning again, and tonight was the first time I'd noticed he was back to being upbeat and positive, certainly the result of Lachlan's doctors giving him such a promising update.
I tiptoed over to where George was dozing in front of the television and quietly turned the sound down. When I heard our en suite shower running I made my way into the bedroom and stripped off my clothes, dropping them next Ty's in a pile outside the bathroom.
Behind the closed door, I took his hand and led him into the shower. Under the steamy torrent, he kissed me roughly before breaking away. We stood watching one another and without the need for words, I knew that Ty needed me.
I pushed him against the tiled wall, facing me, and slicked my hands with gel. I started with his face, massaging and cleansing as I went. I ran my hands over his neck and smiled to myself as I felt him swallow. I quickly caressed his chest, flicking his reawakening nipples with my thumbs. Then lower, over his stomach and down his happy trail to his bush which I rid of sweat. I took his slick, soft cock in my hand and washed it. It throbbed a little and started filling with blood. I recoated my hands with gel and let them slip lower, rolling each of his love nuts between my slippery fingers. A soft groan left his lips and his dick swelled even more.
Before he had time to react, I spun him around and faced him against the tiles, away from me. I stood close against him so my erection was pushed down and nestled in the valley between his glutes. My hands glided over his shoulders, down over the blades and then fanned out to clean his broad, manly back.
Then lower, as I stood back and grabbed two handfuls of buttock. I rubbed them quickly and applied more gel to my right hand. My gelled fingers found their way into the crease and I worked them over and into his twitching knot. Our mutual trust saw him open, like a flower.
He moaned. I stopped. Gently I pushed on his back until he assumed the position, bracing against the stark tiles. I stood tall, slicked my own turgid love muscle and lined it up with the door to his soul.
I waited, making him squirm. He pushed back, I moved back. I rubbed the tip of my cock against his cavity, teasing him. I knew what he wanted; this was an urgent need. He was not looking for romance. Without warning, I propelled myself forward, the sudden invasion forcing him to stand on his tip toes. I filled him completely and held myself still. My dangling ballsac snuggled between his thighs. I flexed my cock rapidly several times.
He moaned again, and his well trained muscles clamped and clutched at me. He wanted me to begin the time- honoured sport, thrust and parry, yet I made him wait. For a few moments we were still. Ty was completely impaled on me, his inner walls creating a vacuum around my pulsating prick.
And then I started. I eased back and slammed into him again. And again. I picked up the pace and started to fuck him as though my ejaculation was the only thing that would save my life. I forced myself to forget that I was inside the man I love with all my heart. He was for that moment a man with a desperate longing to be fucked.
Relentlessly I plunged in and out of his guts, as I slipped one hand around to his groin and found, not surprisingly, that he was rigid.
My still slimy hands started milking his manhood in time with the assault happening on the opposite side of his reproductive system. As the troops gathered, the speed of my thrusts increased, as did the movement of my hand on his throbbing man plough.
I didn't hold back, forging on as my balls tightened and prepared to spew. I buried myself as deep inside him as I could and let loose the cannon of cum that had been building since my last encounter with his warm, welcoming interior.
I flooded him with semen and simultaneously, he surrendered his own sperm, which shot from him in long arcs, splattering the already white tiles before slipping fast to the swirling water of the drain.
I collapsed against him, resting my chest on his back before pulling my still mostly erect prick from its sheath while he stayed in position. I crouched and rested on my haunches, my hands holding his orbs apart, and when the milky river started to run from his dam, I lapped it up; the final stage of the clean up. By the time I finished, he was moaning, but spotless.
Ty kissed me lightly on the lips. I knew that the next time we fucked, the act would be tender. Blissful. We would fuck, but we would love each other. I smiled at him. "I love you," I said.
He was about to respond when we both froze.
"What's going on in there Ty?" came the unmistakable voice of Ty's father from the other side of the bathroom door.
"Fuck!" Ty whispered, and then called out, "Ah, nothing Dad. Everything's OK. I'll be out in a minute."
Ty immediately shut the water off, grabbed a towel and leapt from the shower recess, throwing a towel to me as he did. As he began furiously towelling himself, he leaned in to me and whispered, "Thank God he didn't come in. He used to do it all the time when we were younger ..."
Dry, Ty wrapped a towel around his waist and pressed his ear to the door. Satisfied the coast was clear, he cautioned me to stay in the bathroom until he'd dressed. Then he disappeared. I continued drying myself, cleaned my teeth and, with a towel around my own waist, walked into the bedroom five minutes after Ty.
He had returned to the lounge room so I dressed quickly, but not before noticing that my clothes were still on the floor next to the bathroom door, next to where Ty's had been dropped. Shit!
I regained my composure and wandered back to the lounge room, to find Ty and Scott deep in conversation and Dot knitting on the couch. Frank was in an armchair and he turned to look at me strangely when I walked in. I knew I was smiling wanly at him and despite myself, my face coloured.
Before long, we were all seated and talking pleasantly enough about the update from Lachlan's doctors. Dot let us know that during their visit, Lachlan had managed a few words and had let them know that he was feeling more comfortable, especially since his morphine dose had been reduced.
Lachlan may have been comfortable, but I certainly wasn't. There was something about the way Frank was looking at me, and then at Ty, that was making me increasingly uneasy. I felt like a deer that had been caught in the headlights and while nothing was said directly, or even hinted at, I just knew Frank had wised up. It was palpable.
Rather than spend any more time feeling ill at ease, I excused myself and headed for bed. For once, it was a relief to be on my own, but try as I might I couldn't settle. As I tossed and turned, I wondered about what Frank might be thinking and what the possible repercussions might be. When I wasn't thinking of Frank, my thoughts turned to Ty and his upcoming tour, and to Lachlan and the long rehabilitation he faced. How was it all going to work out?
It was a very long night ...
After a fitful sleep, I got up early and got dressed. The house was quiet as I made some coffee and toast and, although tempted to quietly check on Ty in the bedroom we normally shared, I dared not risk bring sprung a second time.
I let myself quietly out of the house and was on the way to work by 7.30, grateful I didn't have to see anyone. At the end of our street I pulled over and sent Ty a text letting him know I'd made an early start, before continuing on to the office to absorb myself in work.
A short time later I receive a reply text from Ty telling me he would be visiting Lachlan at Prince of Wales Hospital from late morning and hoping I'd meet him there in my lunch hour. I worked solidly until midday before grabbing my keys and heading to Randwick.
I made my way through the corridors to the ICU and, on entering Lachlan's room, was surprised not only to find that Ty wasn't there, but also by how improved Lachlan's condition appeared to be. He was sitting on top of his bed, arms and one leg still heavily bandaged, gazing out the window.
"Hello mate!" I grinned.
"Hey Mike!" Lachlan greeted me back, obviously pleased to see me.
"You're looking a treat!"
"Yeah I feel a lot better," he replied. "That morphine is nasty stuff!"
"You sure look better than you did a few days ago."
"The doctors tell me I'm doing good, but it's gonna take time. I just wish I could wash myself and take a leak on my own."
"Come on mate!" I laughed. "You get some hot nurse holding your dick for you and it's covered by Medicare! Who's complaining?"
"Yeah," he smiled. "The hot nurse with the piss bottle I don't mind so much. But it's a male nurse in the shower with me!"
"Hey!" I chuckled. "Even better! I might book in here for my next holiday".
"Don't know that I'd call this a holiday ..." Lachlan trailed off.
An awkward pause followed. "So, you haven't seen Ty today?"
"Nah, he hasn't shown yet. I guess he'll be here soon."
I sat by Lachlan's bed and we talked about his injuries for a while, until he steered the conversation around to the funerals of his mates, Lieutenant Matthew Burgess and Private Rodney Maguire. Reinforcing what Ty had told him, that the service was moving and respectful, I assured him that Ty's performance of "Heaven Was Needing A Hero" had ended the occasion with dignity.
"I can't stop thinking about them," Lachlan said softly. "They were great mates."
He went on to confide that what he really wanted to do was meet the families of the two men he'd called his friends in wartime; to put faces to the names of his mates' loved ones, and personally to express his condolences.
"That shouldn't be too hard to arrange, mate," I assured him. "I can call the Minister for Defence if you like and find out how we go about it?"
"Friends in high places, eh?" Lachlan smiled.
"Well, it's his press secretary actually," I chuckled. "But he's a good guy and I reckon he'd help."
"I have a favour to ask, Mike," he said, before directing me to his knapsack in his bedside cupboard. Rummaging through his belongings until I found the photo wallet he mentioned, I opened it to find a postcard sized shot of Lachlan with his arms around two men I knew from the television images were Matthew Burgess and Rodney Maguire. They were laughing and relaxed, three fit and healthy Aussie men bonded by war.
"Do you think you could have the photo enlarged twice, and buy a couple of silver frames?" he asked. "I'd like to give one each to their families. They probably wouldn't have seen that shot."
"Of course I will mate," I agreed. "I'll drop it into the photo shop on my way back to the office."
I sent Ty a text to see whether he'd be arriving before I headed back to work, but got no reply. I tried Scott, but again, no response. By 2pm I had run out of time and after giving Lachlan a hug and rearranging his pillows, I made my way back to the office.
I arrived just in time for a 2.30 briefing which was followed immediately by a meeting with a music industry client wanting advice on how to break her contract with her record company which, she believed, was not promoting her properly. We went through her contract thoroughly and while it was watertight, there was one default clause I believe we might be able to exploit. I made an appointment with her for the following Friday and was just seeing her to the door when my secretary buzzed me.
"Mr. Hill is here and he wants to see you," she announced.
"Which one?" I asked with a smile.
She lowered her voice and whispered into the mouthpiece, "The youngest one, the cutie!"
Thinking she was going to say Ty, I was surprised. I walked out to reception and shook hands with Scott, but I could tell straight away that something was wrong. I quickly ushered him into my office and I'd barely closed the door when Scott blurted out that Ty was in the car downstairs in a terrible state.
My fears were confirmed. Frank had confronted him about the clothes on the bedroom floor and had asked whether I had been in the shower with him? Ty chose the moment to finally out himself to his parents and his big moment was greeted by a tirade from Frank, who was not only shocked and disgusted, but blamed me for corrupting Ty.
My thoughts of course were with Ty. I asked Scott to stay in my office while I slipped down to the car park and got Ty, secreting him into my office by the back stairs to avoid the commotion that customarily greeted his arrival anywhere.
Back behind closed doors, the details came tumbling out. Ty had been very defensive about me, and assured his father that he'd known since he was a young teenager that he was gay. Frank wouldn't have a bar of it; he "knew this would happen" when Ty got involved in the music scene. He'd been worried about Ty becoming involved in drugs, but had no idea that his first son was going to turn out a "poofter".
Ty had exploded back and Dot had become very upset, trying in vain to calm them down. Frank had turned on Scott. "Did you know?" he demanded.
Scott had nodded, "Yes sir".
"And you didn't tell us?"
Scott explained that it was not his place to talk about Ty's private life, to which Frank had asked, "And you think it's OK?"
Scott and Ty had exchanged glances before Scott took a deep breath and told his father, "I'm gay too, Dad."
And that, as they say, is when the shit really hit the fan.
Frank, according to the boys, could barely cope. Dot seemed shell-shocked. She was about to speak when Frank started in on them again. Furious at his father's reaction, Ty had grabbed Scott by the arm and dragged him out to the car, and they'd driven straight here.
I had my head in my hands and suddenly felt emotional. The stress of worrying about Lachlan had been straining enough, but I now felt an overwhelming sense of having caused a rift between Ty and Scott and their father.
"This is my fault," I sighed, and was surprised when they both jumped up and surrounded me in my chair.
Ty took my face in his hands. "This is not your fault Mike," he insisted. "I'm sorry you've been dragged into this, after everything you've done for them. Jesus, I wanted to punch him in the face."
Scott jumped in with, "It's not fair. Ty's right. You didn't do anything wrong."
I drew a breath. "OK, you know how we deal with this?" I asked. "We get in the car now and we drive home, and we deal with it."
"No fucking way!" Ty barked. "He can get fucked."
"Ty, he's your father," I replied.
"He's an asshole".
"No, he's your father, and you love him. And he loves you. His perfect world just fell over and he's dealing with it like any dad who thought he had three red-blooded all-Aussie, skirt-chasing, fathers-to-be. Let's not forget that in the space of a few days he gets the news that one of his perfect boys may have been killed. He just gets over that mountain, and then the other two perfect boys tell him out of the blue that they prefer dick, thanks all the same."
Despite himself, Ty smirked. "Yes, but he's still a fucking asshole. How dare he judge me, or Scott, or you for that matter? I'm 30 fucking years old. He always used to say he was proud of me, and like, now suddenly he's ashamed of me? Fuck off."
"No Ty," I said, "he's your father." I turned to the silent brother, "and he's Scott's father, and you both loved him this morning. Nothing's changed. Except, you've finally told them. They've had a shock. Remember how you felt when you first got the call about Lachlan? You shut down for a while. And that's what your parents are doing. You're a family, just ride this one out. Scream and shout if you have to, but just deal with it now."
"I'm not going back," Ty said. "He'll just go off again and I don't fucking need it right now. He mightn't have noticed but Scotty and I've had a fucking nasty few days too."
Scott suddenly found his voice. "Yeah, now's probably not a good time. He'll just yell a lot and we'll end up getting pissed off, and poor Mum will get real upset."
"Shut up, asshole," I said. "We're going home now and we're going to deal with it."
"Didn't you hear me?" Ty sighed. "There's no way I'm going back there now. Not until I've calmed down."
"Not calmed down is good," I said. "You'll say what you really think. Give me the keys."
"No."
"Give me the keys."
"No. I don't want to go home."
"Give me the keys. If you don't, I'll call a cab and deal with it on my own."
Ty handed me the keys. "Asshole!" he whispered.
"Yeah, and what an asshole!" I grinned. "I'll book us a table at Bei Amici in Darling Point after the big scary confrontation."
I let my secretary know I was leaving a little early and then managed to get Ty and Scott to the back stairs without encountering any staff members. The drive to Point Piper was jocular for a while, but as we drew nearer to our home, Ty started to become tense.
"I don't know that this is such a good idea," he said. "Maybe we should do the restaurant first and then go back later?"
"Mate," I said. "I'm a lawyer and I probably shouldn't tell you this, but lawyers wouldn't be needed if people just learned to fucking deal with issues while they are still just issues. You can all be as indignant as you like, but you're only delaying the inevitable. Say it all now before you have time to rehearse your lines."
Ty sighed. "Mate, you're right. You're always fucking right. I don't know how you put up with me," he said. Then, flicking his thumb behind him to the back seat, he added "or him".
Turning to smile at me he continued, "but I love you, mate, and Dad's just gonna have to deal with it."
"Atta boy!" I laughed.
"I love you too Mikey," came a smirking voice from the back seat.
"Asshole!" I replied. "I love you too. But just not quite as much as I love your curly-haired brother."
I screeched the brakes and brought the car to a halt, thankful there were no cars behind me. I turned, grabbed Ty's face and kissed him on the lips.
"Oh get a room," sighed Scott.
"Shut up asshole," I shot back. "Ty, I love you. So do your parents. In a way, they've lost you, there's someone else in your life now, taking their place. They just need some time."
"Well don't say I didn't warn you."
"Hey I don't mind a good screaming match!" I chuckled.
"What?" Ty asked incredulously.
"Yeah," I laughed. "Makes me horny ..."
The groan from the back seat was audible ...
I pressed the remote control for the gates and once in the driveway, Ty wanted to sit for a few minutes to collect his thoughts. Once he'd composed himself, we all got out of the car and walked up the stairs to the front door. We stood for a moment before I slipped the key into the door.
"Keep your cool, Ty," I suggested, but I knew that Ty was bracing himself for battle.
Inside the house, the greeting was strained. Dot was relieved to see us and immediately offered to make tea. But Frank remained on the couch, deadpan and uncommunicative.
Ty ignored his mother's offer of tea and started straight in. "So, Dad? Is there something you need to say? Now's the time to say it."
I cringed.
Frank shook his head, saying "What did I do deserve this?"
"Deserve this?" Ty exploded. "I'm not sure you understand this Dad. It's not about you. It's about me and Scott, the fact that we've taken our own paths in life. This isn't a casual choice, Dad. It's just how it is."
"Jesus," says Frank. "Next you're gonna tell me Lachlan's a queer too."
Ty exploded again, and suddenly turned sarcastic, a side of him I'd not seen before. "No Dad," he spat. "Lachlan's the `normal' one. He likes girls. So Lachie can be your trophy son."
"Don't speak to me like that, Tyson."
"You know what, Dad?" Ty seethed. "Lachlan's your all-Australian, all-straight son. You'll be able to breed from him. But your all-Australian, all-straight son loves his brothers, and he accepts us for who we are. You're the one we all learnt from and looked up to, Dad. And you can't accept us for who we are?"
"I wasn't expecting this," Frank mumbled.
"Expecting what?" Ty thundered.
"Two homosexual sons."
"It's not a terminal disease Dad," Ty said between gritted teeth. "We still pay our taxes like you do. And we're even allowed to vote now. The rest of the world can deal with gay people, but apparently not Frank Hill from Stanthorpe?"
"You were raised as men!" Frank barked. "Men don't ... do things with other men."
"We are men!" Ty screamed back. "We're just not the kind of men who fit your narrow little vision of what's fucking `normal'."
I could see the colour rise in Frank's face and I braced myself for the next level when George, bless him, burst through the door.
"Enough! That is quite enough!" he yelled. "All this noise is scaring Floppy, and you're making Scruffy pant. And all that nonsense about being raised as men meant I burnt the top of the potato and cauliflower gratin. So you need to stop yelling. Now."
It was Frank who broke the tension cord. "Christ, not another one?"
"Yes sir," George deadpanned. "Died-in-the-wool. Certified. Dare I say, you're outnumbered here."
"None of this would have happened Tyson if you'd stayed in Stanthorpe like your mother and I wanted you to," Frank admonished.
"Oh really, Dad?" Ty asked. "And how's that? I'd meet a nice girl and settle down, and live a lie?"
"You haven't met a nice girl and settled down, so how do you know?"
"I met plenty of nice girls dad. I even had sex with some of them," Ty replied, before turning to his shocked mother and whispering "Sorry, mum". Turning back to his father, he continued, "I tried to be `normal', dad. I tried to be what you obviously wanted me to be, but it just didn't work out that way."
"No, it didn't, but only because you got caught up in the music industry and ended up meeting guys like him," he spat, pointing at me. "Your queer lawyer."
Ty was now fully enraged. "How fucking dare you," he yelled. "Leave Mike out of this. Spray your poisonous, bigoted venom at me if you want, but leave my partner out of it."
"Your partner?" Frank yelled, jumping to his feet. "Is that what you call him? You move out of home and suddenly you're having sex with men, and now you've got yourself a `partner'? And on top of that, you've managed to corrupt your little brother too. Jesus wept!"
It was only when Ty made a lunge for his father that I stepped in and held him back.
I steered him towards the couch and pushed him back into a seat. I snapped my fingers at Scott and pointed to the seat next to Ty, and Scott dutifully sat.
I turned to Frank and, with as much authority as I could, indicated the couch opposite. "Please. Will you and Dot sit down?"
"I don't want to sit down," Frank replied.
"Sit!" I repeated, my voice slightly raised. Dot took Frank's arm and moved him to the couch.
Frank sat cross-armed and scowling on one side of the coffee table, Ty cross-armed and scowling on the other; Dot fidgeted and Scott looked at the floor. George hovered in the background.
I looked at them one by one, drew breath and started. "I got somethin' to say, and then I ain't gonna say no more," I began.
I looked at four faces, but nobody registered recognition. I looked at George, who was smiling. "Mayella Ewell in `To Kill A Mockingbird'!" he mouthed at me.
I smiled back and felt emboldened.
"OK," I continued. "Frank, Dot, I'm going to say to you what I said to Ty and Scott earlier. This is an amazing family. I've never seen a family so tight-knit in my life. This morning, everyone in this family loved one another. Tonight, you're at one another's throats. And why? Because two sons opened their hearts to their parents. And I know they've told you something you don't want to hear, but it's not going to go away. You can say whatever you like about me, it's water off a duck's back. But you deserve the truth, and the truth is, I love your son, and he loves me. There's been no seduction here, no evil at work. Ty and I are adult men, we're gay, and lucky for us, we found each other."
I stopped for a moment. Ty was smiling at me, so were Dot and Scott, but Frank was still scowling.
"Your three sons love you very much, Frank. Don't let that change because of something you can't understand. Your boys have grown up and they all have lives of their own now, but they need you and Dot just as much as they did when they were little. Nothing's changed."
I stopped again. Was anything sinking in?
"OK," I continued. "That's all I've got to say. You can put that in the mental microwave and see what defrosts. Ty, Scott and I are going to Bei Amici for dinner. You're welcome to join us."
I picked up my keys and wallet as Ty and Scott stood to move to my side. "No?" I asked. "OK, we'll be back later. Are you coming George?"
"Thank you sir," George responded. "But I have quite a bit of laundry to do."
Frank suddenly spoke. Ignoring us, he addressed his remark to his wife. "I think we should move out of here and stay in a hotel."
Ty was about to snap back, but I cut him off with a glance. "You can do that if you wish, Frank," I said. "But we'd prefer you didn't. We'd prefer you stayed here, in our home, so your family can all be together to support Lachlan. But the choice is yours. You need some time to think about everything, and at some stage before you go home you need to talk to Ty and Scott on your own."
No response.
"Come on guys," I sighed. "I'm hungry".
As I turned to leave, Ty and Scott both walked back and in turn, kissed their mother. Ty ignored his father but Scott hesitated, looked at his father and said, "Don't go, Dad. We all need to be together for Lachie."
No response.
The boys joined me as we walked out the front door and jumped in the car.
"Hey, that went well then ...!" I laughed.
Ty looked at me. "He called you a queer lawyer."
"I am a queer lawyer, Ty," I reminded him. "I mean, it doesn't exactly say that on my business card, but that's what I am. The words don't bother me, so don't let them bother you."
"You were great Mike," Scott said. "You shut Dad up."
"I wasn't trying to shut him up, mate," I replied. "But now he's got time to think about it without us being around. Just give him time."
Ty chuckled.
"What's so funny?"
"I was just thinking," Ty grinned. "I oughta ring George and ask him to hit on Dad, just for fun. Shit, I'd like to see that!"
Scott started to laugh. "We could tell him it's contagious, and maybe they'd better go home to Stanthorpe before mum turns into a lesbian!"
I rolled my eyes and the car rolled up outside Bei Amici. "You guys are assholes."
Scott laughed even louder. "Actually, we're queer assholes. The Two Homosexual Sons."
"Doesn't have quite the same ring about it as The Olsen Twins," I smirked. "But I like it!"
At Bei Amici, I made the boys agree that the subject of Frank was off the menu, and that we'd just enjoy a night out. And enjoy it we did. Ty ordered spinach rag pasta with a ragu of duck and fresh hazelnuts. Scott chose a slow roasted belly of pork with baby carrots and tarragon salsa, and I settled on an eggplant and smoked mozzarella lasagne. For dessert, as expected, big and little brother ordered the upmarket equivalent of ice cream with chocolate sauce, while I chose the white chocolate mousse with berries, and pear and honey sorbet.
It was late when we got back to the house and nobody was around. George had already turned in for the night. Frank and Dot's closed bedroom door and Dot's handbag still on the coffee table suggested they'd decided to stay, if only for round three in the morning.
Scott decided he too was tired and soon disappeared to his room, while Ty and I had a Bourbon each on the balcony. When we'd finished, I found a dark corner of the balcony, unseen from inside the house, and planted a long, languid kiss on my guy before we returned to the lounge room.
It was late, time for bed, but Ty seemed not yet ready. He sat on the couch with his `tour' notepad and started jotting things down. This was a good sign. For the first time since we'd heard the news about Lachlan, Ty was showing interest in his work.
I stood, stretched and yawned before announcing that I too was off to bed.
In my lonely `pretend' bedroom, I stripped off my clothes and slipped beneath the covers, trying not to think about how much better I'd feel if Ty was alongside me, where he usually was. My mind was still active, but I could feel myself gradually slipping off.
I was unaware of how much time had gone by, but even in sleep state, I felt Ty in the room. I couldn't see, smell or hear him, but I knew. It was just a presence. I stirred slightly, now half awake, but my eyes remained closed.
The doona lifted and silently he slipped into bed behind me. His moulded his body to fit my sleeping form; I felt his even breath on my neck and his warm chest against my back. I sighed as his soft cock nestled in the hot crevice of my ass cheeks, a part of me I had long ago surrendered to him, along with my heart.
Gently I felt his arm slip beneath me and he tenderly drew me even closer into his embrace. He was a natural explorer, whether roaming the streets of an unfamiliar town or in our bed, and tonight he started his discovery tour at my belly. I hoped from there it was a downward journey and as always, he did not disappoint. His hand tickled my pubic hair for a moment before slipping down and engulfing my balls; he knows how much I love that.
I moved further back into him, trying to make sure that every part of our bodies connected. His manhood, which had been snugly resting in the valley between my buttocks, was stirring quickly. So often, when I was in his hold, I was overpowered by urgency, a burning need for him to become part of me. He was taking his time, being considerate. But he was taking too long.
I reached back and took hold of his painfully hard prick and drew it to the cavern door. My explorer knew too well that for him, there would be no need to knock, no resistance. For him, the `welcome' sign was permanent. Soon enough, it would be replaced with a "no vacancy" sign.
He knew what I wanted, what I craved. I could not see his face, but I knew he would be smiling. With a lunge – gentle for sure, but a lunge still the same – he slipped inside and filled me completely. I felt his man bag slap against the far end of my ass crack, as his hand once again closed tightly around my eager shaft.
And then, with love in his heart and fire in his loins, he started to fuck me, stroking me in rhythm with his thrusts. Together we started our long journey, together we slowly and exquisitely climbed to the summit, and as one, we reached the peak. I felt his ragged breath hot on my neck as he staked his claim and filled me with his liquid love, and simultaneously my tortured balls gave up their goodness, which shot from my body in long arches that landed somewhere in the distant darkness.
Together, our bodies sagged; the race had been run and we were both the victors.
He whispered in my ear, "I love you". I felt no need to respond, for he knew. This man, the anchor of my life.
It was mid-afternoon and I was completely engrossed in briefing notes for an upcoming royalty battle between a newly signed electro pop band and their record company, when my intercom buzzed.
"There's a Mr. Hill in reception to see you," said my secretary.
Was it Ty or was it Scott? Despite myself, I smiled; this was becoming a daily occurrence. "Which one?" I asked.
"I'm not sure," she replied. "An older guy. The dad, perhaps?"
Shit. This was all I needed, a scene at the office. "I'll come and get him," I assured her, as I quickly gathered my wits. At my door, I squared my shoulders and strolled to reception.
"Frank?" I said, and was greeted by a curt nod. "This way".
Frank followed me to my office. I held the door open for him and then closed it behind us. I indicated a chair for him to sit before walking around him and sitting down again. I shuffled some papers while Frank kept his eyes cast downwards.
After an awkward silence, I found my voice. "What can I do for you, Frank?" I asked, as casually as I could.
He paused for a while before he spoke. "I owe you an apology, Mike," he said tentatively.
I hid my surprise. "You do?" I asked.
"Yes, I'm sorry for those things I said about you. I didn't mean to be so insulting. I was just ... well, shocked I guess."
"And why the change of heart?"
"I've been with Lachlan."
"And?"
"He tore a few strips off me. I told him what happened and he just ripped into me."
"So you're apologising to me because Lachlan said you should?"
"No, no. He's right. I handled it all very badly. Lachlan told me everything, how he's known about Tyson for years and had his own thoughts about Scott, too. And he told me how much he loves his brothers and how it doesn't matter what they do in their private lives, they're still his best mates like they always were, and they're still the same great sons they always were."
"That's what I was trying to tell you last night, Frank."
"Lachlan reminded me of a line I used to quote him from the Bible; `judge not that he be not judged'. You probably don't know your Bible, do you?"
I smiled. "Matthew 7, Frank," I replied. "'For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again'."
Frank seemed surprised. "I'm impressed," he said.
"Gay people are God's children too, Frank," I gently chided.
"I judged Tyson and Scott, and you, and I didn't have any right to do that."
"We all make mistakes. The important thing is you realise it was a judgment."
"Lachlan also reminded me and Dot how much you've done for Tyson, and how good you've been to our whole family. He even told us about the whole mix-up at Tyson's concert when he turned up out of the blue."
I smiled at the memory of my flip-out when I thought one of Ty's long-lost lovers had turned up to claim him back. "I thought I'd lost him, Frank," I mused.
Frank raised an eyebrow. "He means that much to you?"
"He means everything to me, Frank," I said, holding his gaze. "He's my soul mate. What we have is special. I love him and he loves me."
"I can't say I understand it ..." Frank's voice trailed off.
"Nobody's expecting you to understand it, Frank. We all just hope you'll accept it, and that the Hill family just moves forward. Personally, I'm relieved that you and Dot know now. I don't like having to hide things, especially from the two people who mean so much to the boys."
"Dot's fine," he said. "She copes with everything. It's just me ..."
"You and Dot should be so proud of all three of your sons," I replied. "They're fine men. The most important thing to understand is that there's an unbreakable bond between the three of them and they'll always be there for each other. They accept each other just as they are, and I know it's their dearest wish that they have that same acceptance from their mum and dad."
I thought for a moment Frank was going to cry, but he managed to keep it together. "I know I might have sounded like I was favouring Lachlan when I went off at Tyson," he faltered. "But I love them all equally. Like you say, they're all fine men and I'm proud of them all."
"Why are you telling me this, Frank?" I asked.
"What do you mean," he questioned. "I wanted you to know ..."
"It's Ty and Scott you should be talking to. They're at home, stressed out of their minds that the dad they love so much might cut them out of his life."
"I'd never do that," he said indignantly. "They're my boys ..."
"Then go tell them Frank. Go. Shoo ..."
Frank stood and held out his hand. "Do you accept my apology?"
"Yes, I do Frank. Thank you."
"So we're good?"
"We're good!"
I saw Frank to the door, and smiled to myself as I watched him walked through the work area to reception, nodding to each of the office girls in turn.
When 5.30 rolled around, I lay back in my chair, stretched my legs and arms and yawned. It had been a long, taxing day and I was looking forward to getting home and especially to seeing whether Frank's about face had smoothed the waters with Ty and Scott.
I left the office and walked to the photography shop to pick up Lachlan's photo enlargements and had the sales assistant put them in two silver frames I chose. On my way back to the car park, I dropped into a wine bar for Bourbon – a little Dutch courage before heading back to the house.
I found the house quiet when I opened the front door. The TV was off and nobody seemed to be milling. I was hanging my coat when George appeared and asked how my day had been. The look I gave him said it all.
"Scott has gone to the hospital to see his brother, and Mrs Hill is in the kitchen making some soup," George smiled.
"And Ty and Frank?"
"I can't be sure, sir," he replied. "Mr Hill came home and he talked to the boys together on the balcony."
"And?"
"Things seem to have settled down, sir," George assured me. "I just don't know what happened after that."
George moved to the lounge room to set the table for dinner, and I walked into the kitchen. Dot looked up and smiled. "Hello dear".
I walked behind her to the fridge and grabbed a beer. She scooped some of her homemade vegetable soup from the pan onto a clean spoon and offered it to me to taste.
"Mmmm," I enthused. "That's great Dot! Ty'll love it!"
"He was always one for his vegetables," Dot smiled. "I had to practically force Lachlan to eat greens, and Scott was never much one for vegetables either, but Tyson always ate whatever was put in front of him."
"Speaking of having to swallow things," I said, moving to the kitchen table. "How's Frank doing?"
"Oh, he's alright dear," Dot assured me. "I know he went to see you today after Lachlan talked to him and set him straight. I'm glad he did. He came home and had a long talk with Tyson and Scott."
"How did that go?"
"Well, it seemed to go very well, dear," she replied. "I didn't hear what they said, but there weren't any raised voices."
"And how about you, Dot?" I asked. "How are you doing?"
"I'm fine dear," she smiled.
"I know you're fine, Dot. But how are you handling things? I have a feeling you knew ..."
Dot smoothed her apron and moved to the kitchen table, taking a seat opposite me. She stretched an arm across the space between it and held her hand over mine. "I wouldn't say I knew, dear," she started. "But I'm not shocked. Tyson was my first child and to me he was just the perfect little boy. He was always so happy and so affectionate. And then Lachlan came along, and he and Tyson were inseparable from the day I brought him home from hospital. And then later Scott came along, and both Lachlan and Tyson adored him. They'd have brought him up themselves if they could have."
"Like I said to you, Dot," I smiled, "they're like the Three Musketeers. They're as inseparable as Athos, Porthos and Aramis."
Dot smiled back and looked at me closely. "It was only when they started to grow up that I noticed that Tyson was a little different, especially compared to Lachlan. I didn't mean to compare them, but it was obvious to me that Tyson was the sensitive one where Lachlan was much more rough and tumble. Lachlan liked to get dirty, be naughty, and do all the typical boy things, while Tyson was quiet and brooding and spent endless hours on his own in his room with his music."
"It's not unusual for siblings to be completely different personality types," I responded.
"No dear, it's not," Dot said. "But when they got to their teen years, Lachlan was always the one out chasing the girls. Tyson always needed to be pushed. He went out with girls, but he never seemed to be terribly interested in them, the way Lachlan was. I used to think it was Tyson's shyness, but then I started to think maybe he just ... well, just wasn't very interested in girls."
"It was pretty much the same for me, Dot," I admitted. "I went out with girls, but my heart wasn't in it. I realised quite early on that I was gay, and I accepted it. As I got older, I started to think I was never going to meet the perfect guy. And then I met Ty."
"Lachlan tells us that you have a wonderful relationship, and that Tyson has never been happier. He says that Tyson loves you very much."
"If Ty loves me half as much as I love him, I'll be a very happy man Dot," I said. "I have a feeling we're in it for the long haul."
"I hope so, dear," she said, patting my hand. "Nothing is more important to me than seeing my boys happy. And now I need to check my soup."
As Dot moved back to the bench, I sipped my beer and through the open balcony door I heard barking in the distance. Scruffy! I moved to the balcony and looked down along the beach where my heart was gladdened to see Frank and Ty throwing sticks as they walked along talking.
At one point Ty stood still and embraced his father. I called to Dot who joined me on the balcony, and I pointed.
"I'm so glad," Dot beamed. "Frank can be as stubborn as a mule sometimes, and he's been forced to confront something he's probably thought about before but never really believed. But there's one thing I'll say for him, he loves his sons. This is something he'll come to terms with in his own way."
I watched as Ty, his father, and the ever-bouncing Scruffy drew nearer to the house, but I was called back inside by George, who handed me my ringing mobile phone. It was Vince, reminding me that Ty's tour rehearsals were starting tomorrow and checking to see that all was on track.
I filled him in on the improvement in Lachlan's condition, and on the confrontation between Frank, his sons and me.
"Poor Frank," Vince groaned.
"He's OK, mate," I assured Vince. "He's a man of the land. It'd take more than two gay sons to knock the wind out of his sails."
"How about Ty? I often wondered when he'd tell him folks ..."
"Well I don't think he'd planned to bring it up just yet," I replied, explaining the circumstances of the outing of the three of us. Four, including George.
"Fuck mate," Vince chuckled. "Frank and Dot came to the Big Smoke thinking they were staying in Point Piper, and instead they've ended up at Faggot Central!"
"Watch it mate," I smirked down the line, "or I'll tell 'em you're a bum bandit too!"
"Good on ya!" Vince laughed. "Tell your boyfriend I'll meet him at the rehearsal studio at 11 in the morning. And tell him to remember his guitar, his sheet music, his harmonica and a copy of the album."
"Done," I replied. "And I'll get George to put a packed lunch box, a drink and an apple in his school bag."
"Smart arse!"
"Asshole".
"Love ya."
"Love ya back!"
As I hung up, I heard laughter from the kitchen and mentally sighed; perhaps things were gradually getting back to normal? I stayed where I was and quickly called Derek, the Defence Minister's press secretary. He took my call and after thanking him again for the help he'd offered previously, I confided Lachlan's wish to meet the families of the two soldiers who'd died.
"I can't put you in direct contact with them, Mike," Derek explained. "That's against Department Policy. But I could contact them on your behalf and give them your phone number if it's something they'd like to pursue."
"That's great Derek," I said. "Lachlan feels bad that he wasn't able to be at the funerals, and he's had a really good shot of himself with both the guys enlarged and framed for their families. They both talked about their wives and their kids, and he'd really like to tell them that."
"Man, that's a really nice thing to want to do," Derek replied. "Both families need all the cheering up they can get. The wives have been left with debts, and they're going to find life a bit of a struggle for the foreseeable future I'm afraid".
"That's awful, mate," I said.
"It's the reality though Mike," Derek replied. "They were front page news until the funerals, and now everyone's forgotten about them. Except the people who loved them, who're left to pick up the pieces and go on with their lives."
"Let me talk to Ty," I said. "I'm sure he'll think of something that'll help."
I finished my call to Derek and sat in the study for a few moments, absorbing the truth about the families of Lieutenant Matthew Burgess and Private Rodney Maguire. I'd been so absorbed in my own little dramas that I hadn't really given any thought to the people those brave men had left behind. I finally understood Lachlan's heartfelt need to meet them.
The study door opened suddenly and Ty stuck his head around the door. "Everything OK?" he asked.
"Yes mate," I replied. "How about you and your Dad?"
"We're cool," he grinned. "We talked it all through and I think everything's OK now. I don't think he's quite ready to go to Mardi yet, but in his own time he'll get his head around it!"
"And Scott?"
"Yeah, he's good too. He and I need to have a longer talk to mum I think, but that can wait. George is getting ready to serve dinner ..."
"Wouldn't want anything to stand between a Hill boy and his food. What is it tonight?"
"Bangers and mash, with peas and gravy," he beamed. "Mum's gravy!"
Right on cue, Dot called "dinner's ready" and the three Hill men were quickly in place. I sat, and George pulled out a chair for Dot, before serving generous helpings of thick lamb sausages with peas and potato mash. Scott reached out and picked up the gravy jug and was about to cover his plate when he was smacked suddenly on the hand by the back of Frank's fork. "Sorry Dad," Scott exclaimed, immediately offering the jug to his mother.
"Thank you son," she smiled before handing the jug on to Frank. And so it went through the family. First- born son next, then last born son, then me, then George.
Idle chat is not an option when the Hill men are eatin'; bangers and mash was clearly serious business. I could have told Ty, Scott and Frank that I'd fallen in love with Lachlan and they wouldn't have heard, so engrossed were they in their meal. Ty started with the sausages, swimming in Dot's gravy, and then saved the potato mash and peas till last, scooping them together on the back of his fork before running his fork through the gravy, in much the same way a five year old boy pretends he's flying an aircraft. I had flashbacks to previous occasions when I found I had stopped eating my own meal, so fascinated was I by Ty's love of simple foods.
He was the first to finish, but not by much. "That," he announced triumphantly, "was bloody fantastic!"
"Tyson!"
"Sorry mum," he grinned sheepishly.
"You're not too old to be sent to your room."
Ty grinned. "Speaking of rooms mum, it's actually Mike's and my room. And tonight, Mike's moving back in!"
"Would you like me to put Mr Stewart's things back where they came from, sir?" George asked.
"Thanks George," Ty smiled. "Unless you'd like to do it, Dad? ..."
"Don't get smart with me, boy!" Frank grinned.
"Or what, Dad? No TV for a week?"
"No," Frank replied. "No ice cream with chocolate sauce."
Ty laughed.
Scott suddenly said, "Who do you have to sleep with around here to get ice cream and chocolate sauce?"
"Scott!"
"Sorry mum. Mike taught me and Ty all this bad language, I swear!"
"Asshole", I swiped.
"Michael!"
"Sorry Dot ..."
Dessert was a solitary pleasure, too. Frank and his Two Homosexual Sons made quick work of what was probably half a litre of vanilla ice cream, swimming in more of George's chocolate Mars Bar sauce than the sausages had in Dot's gravy.
I took the opportunity of silence to remind Ty that his rehearsals started the next morning, and to raise the subject of my phone call from Derek following on from Lachlan's wish to meet the families of his fallen comrades.
"Do you think the boy's ready for that Dorothy?" Frank asked.
"I'm sure Lachlan wouldn't do anything he wasn't prepared for, Frank," she replied. "You know Lachlan".
"I think it's a good idea," said Ty. "I think it's something Lachie has to do, and I think it would benefit the guys' families, too. Lachie probably has some stories to tell them."
I went on to tell them what Derek had told me about the strained financial resources of both families, who were struggling to make ends meet.
"They'd get a war widow's pension wouldn't they?" Frank asked.
"Yes dear," Dot replied. "But that's not a lot to try and raise a family on. Look what a struggle it is for Nancy Wagner back home. The cost of everything keeps going up, but the pension doesn't."
"Maybe we could help them?" Scott asked.
"How's that, squirt?" Ty asked him back.
"Well, I dunno. Maybe do a concert. Yeah, a benefit concert! You could headline, Ty! And you could get some other big stars to do it too and all the money could be divided between the two families."
Ty sat back in his chair and smiled. He reached over and pinched his brother's cheek. "You know mate? You're not just a handsome face!"
"How would Vince feel about a free concert, especially with the tour coming up?" Frank asked practically.
"Oh, he'll be cool," Ty said. "He'll grumble at first, but he's a softy deep down. He'll wanna do what he can for the families."
Frank looked at Ty. "About Vince," he smirked. "Is he ...?"
"No Dad!" replied Ty, rolling his eyes. "There's another one for your team!"
We finished the meal with a nice cup of tea, made using proper leaves not teabags and poured from one of George's poncey teapots. We discussed our plans for the next day. Ty and I would drive to the hospital early to see Lachlan and I would drop Ty at rehearsals before going on to work. Frank and Dot would take Scott in to visit him mid-morning.
Ty eventually announced that we'd be turning in for the night because of our early start, and Dot agreed that she and Frank would also call it an evening. "Good nights" were exchanged all round and we retired to our rooms. That left Scott and George in the lounge room and we could hear them through the door.
"It's not fair George," Scott had whined. "Mum's got Dad to sleep with, Ty's got Mike. And I've got no-one!"
"Don't look at me!" George protested before adding with a chuckle, "you can have Floppy if you like!"
"I told you already George," Scott laughed. "I'm not interested in pussy!"
We heard a door open.
"I heard that, Scott Hill!"
"Sorry mum ..."
Ty and I lay spooning in bed and as I lazily ran my hand up and down his hairy chest and belly, my thoughts of the benefit concert reminded me that very soon, Ty would be on the road again and we'd be separated. At the same time, Lachlan would be ready to be discharged from hospital. Where would he go? Back home to Stanthorpe with Frank, Dot and Ty? Or should he stay at our house, close to medical facilities and with full- time care available?
It needed to be discussed, but nobody had yet raised the subject. I would need to pick the right moment, so as not to lessen the family's enthusiasm for helping the loved ones of Lachlan's army mates. I knew that pulling it all together would become a passion for Ty, and he would commit himself to it with all his heart.
Yes, he had a big heart. The pulsating column of flesh bumping my right hand reminded me that had another organ that was pretty bloody big too ...
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