Owen

Owen

Chapter twenty-one

by Roy Reinikainen

"Oh geeeez," Sam murmured, taking Owen's hand and looking toward the looming brick building, complete with tall white columns gracing the front of Lucas' parents' home. He turned to Owen, while Lucas walked around the side of the car. "I thought people lived like this only in stories," he murmured. "Y'sure his folks are just normal folks?" Sam glanced toward the house with its brightly lit Christmas tree, so large it graced two enormous windows, and the set of equally impressive pine bough wreaths, one in the center of each of the double entry doors.

Owen squeezed Sam's hand. "I felt the same way, the first time I was here. Relax. The Horton's are very nice. They'll make you feel right at home."

"Everyone back home is not going to believe this," Sam muttered, smiling as Lucas approached. He was anxious to see Jonah. He had so much more to say than their brief telephone call, earlier in the day, could cover.

Jonah, breathless, had answered his and Owen's call. "I knew it had to be you!" he said, still out of breath. "I was outside doin' my exercises. How're things? How's Owen? What's his friend like? What about the weather? I miss you," he moaned. "The house is so empty without you around. I've been studying and exercising, but I'd much rather be hangin' out naked, with you." He paused to take a breath. "The bed's so cold and lonely when you're not next to me.

"What sorta stuff have you been doin'? What's the big city like? Is it cold? Have you seen snow?" Sam laughingly told him to slow down, that, first, Owen wanted to talk to him.

"He's standin' here bouncin' on the balls of his feet," Sam teased. "If I don't let him have the phone soon, he's going to take it from me." Owen snatched the phone out of Sam's hand.

"Jonah!" Owen had almost shouted in an excited voice.

"You don't need to yell," Sam interrupted from across the room. "That's why you have the phone." He'd smiled and slowly shook his head at Owen's impatient shake of his hand.

"I've missed you so much Owen," continued, lowering his voice to a more normal level. "I always thought of you as my little brother. But, after being away from you for all these months, I realize that you've always been much more than that. You've always been my best friend." He swallowed, continuing to pace back and forth while Sam sprawled on the sofa watching him.

"I promised myself that the first time I spoke with you I was gonna tell you how much, havin' you close-by has always meant to me." He took a deep breath. "I also want to tell you that I'm sorry I never told you how important you are to me . . . and lastly, how much I love you."

Sam watched as Owen paused, then turned and gave him a strange look. "No," Owen continued, "Sam didn't tell me to say any of that. I came up with it all on my own. You are important to me. I am sorry, and I do love you. I should have told you how I felt while I was still livin' at home, but . . ." His shrug would be unseen by Jonah. "I just . . . didn't. Too wrapped up in my own affairs, I guess."

Owen perched on one of the bar stools, slowly swinging a leg as he spoke. "Another thing I need to tell you is that I totally understand how you feel about Sam, and how he feels about you." There was a pause. "Yes, he told me. I'm glad you're outta the folks' house. You and Sam can take care of one another while I'm away. No," he added quickly. "There's no need to apologize for anything.

"Y'see, I've become intimate with the guy I'm stayin' with. His name is Lucas. He's the guy I've mentioned in my letters to you. I met him the day I arrived. Actually, he rescued me at the airport. When my apartment burned down, he took me in, like Sam had you move in with him.

"So . . . see I do understand about you 'n Sam, just like Sam says he understands about Lucas 'n me." The idly swinging leg stopped swinging.

"No." There was a long pause. It was almost possible to see Owen's thoughts. "No, I don't love him. Not like I love Sam, at least. I mean, I do love him, but . . . Do you understand what I'm tryin' to say? I'm sorry, I'm getting all tongue-tied, and Sam is motioning for me to give him back the phone.

"Merry Christmas, Jonah. You take good care of yourself. I'm planning on giving you a big bear hug whenever I get back. Then the two of us are gonna have a lot of catching up to do." His voice lowered. "I love you, little brother." He sniffed, then handed the phone to Sam, who'd spent the next half hour answering Jonah's questions and assuring him that Owen's sentiments were genuine.

That was earlier in the afternoon. Now, Sam, Owen and Lucas were poised for what Sam expected to be an ordeal . . . a Christmas party at Lucas' parents' house. 'I'm feelin' so out of place, already,' he thought to himself, thankful for Owen's presence.

"Ready, men?" Lucas asked, standing behind Sam and Owen and resting an arm on their shoulders. "If we stand out here for much longer, our shoes'll freeze to the cobbles."

"Hey, Lucas," Owen urged. "We better get inside quick. Poor Sam's gonna hyperventilate, and then where will we be? I guarantee your mother won't appreciate us having to carry in one of her guests." Sam gave him an appreciative grin and tried to control his breathing, not realizing his anxiety had been so obvious.

"Cobbles," Sam murmured, almost to himself, as they crossed the large drive-court. "I have gravel in my driveway. These folks have cobbles!" He shook his head in disbelief as they climbed the stairs and paused a moment before the home's front doors.

"Wow," he murmured, looking up to the lantern hanging from the center of the front porch's ceiling, connected to each corner of the porch roof by a long swag of pine boughs interspersed with small twinkling white lights. He gave Lucas a diffident grin. "Already, I'm overwhelmed."

"Don't be intimidated," Lucas laughed. "It's just fancy window dressing. The people inside are no different than anyone else." Sam softly snorted, not wishing to contradict Lucas and compare what he saw around him with what he was accustomed to.

'Geez,' Sam thought, flicking a glance at Owen, who was uncharacteristically silent. 'If it's more than what I am accustomed to, what must Owen feel like? He's never had a Christmas.' Sam glanced to Lucas, who was reaching for the front door lever. 'I wonder what Lucas would think if he knew how much different this is than what Owen's and my world is like.' He thought a moment about the man he'd come to know over the past few days. 'Most likely he'd be embarrassed, afraid that we'd think he was showin' off.'

Lucas swung the door open wide and gestured his friends into the house. Only when he turned around, after closing the door, did he realize his parents were not alone. His stomach knotted. The unexpected had happened.

Bailey and his parents and . . . Corey, were standing with Olivia and Neil. As one, they turned, smiled, and greeted the three newcomers with wishes for a Merry Christmas. Lucas' eyes darted from side to side and then, as his mother would say, "breeding took over."

'Corey!' he thought, trying to sort things out in the brief moment before making introductions. 'Corey and Bailey . . . together!' His world-view seemed to shift.

Corey smiled brightly, raising a hand slightly in greeting, delighted with what must certainly be a look of astonishment on Lucas' face.

'He certainly seems happy,' Lucas thought. 'And Bailey . . . I'd scarcely recognize him!'

"Ahem." He turned to Owen and Sam. "Guys, I'd like you to meet some friends of my parents' and mine. Owen, you already know Bailey. He's with his father George, and his mother Louise Wilkins, and a friend, Corey Hatfield.

"Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins, Bailey, Corey, I'd like you to meet two of my very best friends, Owen and his partner, Sam. Sam's visiting for a couple weeks during the Holidays."

Olivia Horton, Lucas' mother looked on with maternal pride. She knew how difficult the introduction had been, especially given the past history between her son and Bailey. She'd been pleasantly surprised at the changes in Bailey. She imagined Lucas would be even more so.

Owen shook hands with Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins and Corey, then embraced Bailey and gave him a pat on the back, as Sam shook the Wilkins' hands and Lucas introduced him to his parents.

Corey stood at Bailey's side, a preoccupied grin on his face, studying Owen as the two men, acting like old friends, greeted one another. When he caught Sam watching him, the grin flickered, twisting into a crooked smile. He bowed his head, and stepped closer to Bailey.

"How's my friend?" Owen's accent was one he'd not heard in a long time. It made Corey's breath catch in his throat.

'Home,' he thought. 'This man knows what it's like. Owen . . .' He paused. 'There's something about him,' Corey thought. 'Something . . . familiar.' Even as Owen smiled and laughed along with Bailey, there was an overlying sense of melancholy hanging about him. Corey's glance flicked to Sam, then back to Owen. 'He's running away,' Corey concluded. A smaller voice, one he was usually able to ignore, whispered, 'same as me.' He did his best to still his breathing, bit his lower lip, then automatically smiled as someone in the background laughed.

Sam watched the numerous emotions play across the handsome man's face. Corey reminded him very much of Owen, a man of average height with a ready smile. Unlike Owen, Corey was brown-haired, with dancing light brown eyes. Dancing, until a few moments earlier, when all emotion seemed to drain away. Like Owen, Corey obviously lifted weights. His clothing seemed to cling to him, displaying the rippling muscles beneath.

Owen held Bailey by the shoulders and studied him at arm's length. "You're looking great!" It went without saying that Owen was comparing the man's present appearance with how he looked at the downtown city jail, the last time Owen had seen him.

Bailey returned a bashful smile and blushed. He looked completely unlike the man Owen had become accustomed to. Everything, from the cut of his hair to how he was dressed, had changed. Owen would never have imagined he'd witness Bailey blush. He still dressed impeccably, of course, but the constant preening and flaunting, seemed to have been eliminated, along with the flowery language and exaggerated mannerisms.

Bailey's parents looked on with pride as their son greeted the man they'd heard so much about. "I'm doing well, Owen . . ." He lowered his voice. "Thanks to you." His smile and handshake was one of genuine friendship as he greeted Sam. When he held out his hand for Lucas to shake, Lucas instead, drew him into the same type of embrace Owen had given him, surprising Bailey into speechlessness.

Bailey turned to Corey, who had been looking on with interest, his eyes flicking from Lucas, to Owen, then to Sam and back to Bailey, all the while wearing an abstracted hint of a smile. "Corey," Bailey said, placed a hand on the small of Corey's back in a decidedly possessive action, then reached for Owen's hand. When he spoke, the hand, the warmth and affection in his voice was unmistakable. "This is the man I've told you about. He started me on my road to . . . I guess one would have to call it, recovery. I owe everything to him, from my new haircut," he grinned, "to you. If Owen hadn't sat me down and challenged me to have faith in myself, we would never have met." Bailey's and Lucas' parents looked on, proud spectators of a true-life drama involving their sons.

Corey stepped forward and hugged Owen, holding the embrace. "Thank you for what you did for Bailey," he smiled. "He's become pretty special to me. He speaks of you all the time, and it's wonderful to finally get a chance to meet you." He included Sam in his smile. "And you, too, Sam. You've probably gathered that everyone here thinks pretty highly of your partner."

Sam grinned and stepped close to Owen, not entirely sure what was going on, or what was expected of him. 'What has he been up to? I thought he was here to go to school. Instead of hearing about school, all I hear about is how he's changed everyone's life. First Lucas', then Bailey.' Sam sneaked a glance at Owen, proud beyond words. 'Owen's like that,' he thought. 'Just knowin' him makes a person want to do whatever it takes to be as good a person as he is. *I've felt it for years,' Sam grinned to himself. 'Now, the rest of the world is experiencing what I've known all along.'

In the background, everyone continued talking, and no one saw Corey give Owen another hug. "You 'n I need to get together over a cup of coffee." He grinned at Sam, then stepped back to Bailey's side, leaving both Owen and Sam perplexed, each wondering what Corey's invitation might mean.

"Um . . . Thank you, Lucas," Owen heard Bailey finish speaking. "But, Corey, my folks, and I were just on our way out."

"One moment, son." George Wilkins held up a restraining hand, turning to Bailey. "May I?" Some sort of unseen communication passed between them. Bailey nodded once and accepted Corey's hand, and everyone else quieted, wondering what George Wilkins could possibly have to say.

Bailey's father turned to Owen. "Louise," he nodded toward his wife, "and I would like to thank you, young man . . . for giving us our son. We swore if we ever met you we would give you a hug." He raised his eyebrows. "May we?"

"It's not necessary, sir," he said, feeling everyone's eyes on him. Owen disliked being the center of attention, but saw no way out of the predicament. Additionally, he continued to wonder what Corey's extra hug and invitation to coffee could possibly mean. 'No sleep for me 'n Sam tonight. I'll be up all night explaining things,' he told himself.

"I believe it is necessary. Besides, it would make us very happy," George added.

Owen bowed his head wearing an embarrassed grin as Bailey's father embraced him and patted him on the back. When Mr. Wilkins tried to speak, his voice was thick with emotion. "Thank you, Owen, for everything you've done for our family. I consider it a debt of honor to repay you for your kindness to Bailey." He cleared his throat. "If there is ever anything. . ." He paused. "And I do mean anything, that we can do for you and Sam, please let us know. We owe you more than you can ever know. I now have the son I've waited for, for so long. No matter what I might do for you, it will pale by comparison with what you've done for me, my wife . . . and my son . . . and of course, Corey." He patted Owen on the shoulder and stepped away, blinking and wiping his nose, as Bailey's mother took his place. Owen had to lean forward as she kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you, Owen," she added in an emotion-filled voice. "Please remember what George has just said."

"Well . . ." Olivia Horton, Lucas' mother, spoke into the sudden, emotion-laden, silence. "I'd say we're all going to have a wonderful Christmas." She turned to the Wilkins'. "I wish you'd reconsider, and stay for a longer visit, Louise."

"We really can't, Olivia. We have a few more stops to make. I am, however, pleased to have been here to see Lucas once again, and to meet Owen and Sam."

"It has been a pleasure, Sam," Bailey said, after shaking his hand on the way to the door, following his parents. "You are a very lucky man to have Owen's love." Sam ducked his head, and reached for Owen's hand, not sure how to respond.

"And thank you, Lucas," Bailey said, as he shook Lucas' hand with both of his. "I apologize for all the grief I've given you over the years. It was childish behavior, and I am embarrassed by the things I've done. Please, may we begin again, and establish a new friendship?"

"I look forward to it." He embraced Bailey and kissed him on the cheek, causing Bailey to blush and everyone to chuckle at his discomfiture. He grinned.

"Didn't think I could blush, did you?" he asked everyone.

"He's blushing all the time, when he's around me," Corey added, his good humor temporarily unleashed. "Woops!" he grinned, ducking his head. "He hasn't been able to teach me to keep my mouth shut though," he added, as everyone laughed.

Corey smiled at Lucas and Sam, then gently patted Owen's shoulder as he passed.

As everyone trooped to the doorway and waved goodbye, Sam turned to Owen and gave him a questioning glance.

"Later," was all Owen could say before Olivia took Sam's hand, leading everyone into the living room with it's enormous Christmas tree, it's roaring fire, and the smell of steaming drinks, redolent of cinnamon.

Abigail tiptoed into the kitchen and embraced her mother where she stood, in front of the oven. "Merry Christmas, Mama," she whispered, lest her father hear. "Opie and I are gonna do all your chores today, so you can relax." Bea grinned and tenderly ran her fingertips over her oldest daughter's cheek.

"Thanks sweetheart. I'll let you both help, but your father wouldn't be happy if I sat around doing nothing." She cupped her daughter' chin and smiled. "Thank you so much for thinkin' of me though. It means . . . a lot."

She cleared her throat, then turned back to the oven and the smell of cookies baking. "I've made some of your's and Opie's favorite cookies." She bowed her head. "I'm sorry that's all I'm able to do." She softly snorted. "It's not much of a Christmas, I'm afraid."

Abigail took her hand and gently squeezed her understanding. "Things'll change someday," she murmured. "Besides, as long as we're all together, that's what really matters, isn't it?" She sighed. "I just wish Owen and Jonah were here."

"Me too, sweetheart," Bea murmured, with a catch in her throat. "Me, too."

Both women looked up as Jonathan walked into the kitchen. Rather than storming in wearing a frown, he seemed distracted by something. He wandered to the back door and looked out to the garden, then turned to his wife.

"Smells good," he murmured, meeting her eyes for only an instant, "whatever it is you're makin'."

"Why . . . thank you, Jonathan," Bea replied, completely caught off guard by her husband's attempt at a compliment. "I'm makin' some Christmas cookies. They'll be out of the oven in a couple minutes, then we can all have some." Bea gave her daughter a preoccupied nod as Abigail left the kitchen in search of her sister.

"Bea . . ." Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck. "I . . . I'm sorry we're not able to have a better Christmas." He looked up at his wife's silence. "Your cookies'll sure be good though, with a cup of coffee." He busied himself with the coffee maker. "Thanks for makin' them," he said, not looking at his wife.

"Jonathan . . ." Bea hesitated. "Thank you. I think we're going to have one of the best Christmases ever." She leaned close and gave her husband a tender kiss on the cheek. "Merry Christmas to you too."

"Gee willikers," Corey grumbled, as he and Bailey left Bailey's parents' house and trotted, slipping and sliding, over the icy driveway to Bailey's car. "It's colder out here than an old maid's bed in January!" As he rounded the car to the passenger side, he slipped on the ice and fell flat on his back with a loud yelp.

"Corey?" Bailey shouted, alarmed at his friend's surprised cry. He gingerly made his way around the car and knelt by the man who was lying on the ice-glazed drive, wearing a dusting of snow flakes and a disgusted expression. "Are you okay?"

"'Course I am," Corey responded, resting his hands on his chest in the pose of death, and closing his eyes. "I'm just getting in a little practice time, for when I'm laying in my casket."

"What?" Bailey squawked. "Casket?"

"It'll probably be as cold six feet under as it is lying here in the driveway," Corey groused, accepting Bailey's hand to help him stand while bracing himself with his other hand on Bailey's car. "It can't possibly be any colder." He brushed himself off. "I don't like the cold, y'know," he grumbled. "Except that when it's cold it means the two of us can get all nekkid and cuddle." He grinned, sliding into the car as Bailey held the door for him.

"Thank you, kind sir," he grinned. "I shall do my best to show my thanks the moment we get into bed." He relaxed as Bailey cautiously began the long drive to Corey's apartment.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Bailey asked, when the silence had stretched longer than normal. "The dinner, my parents, and everything?"

Corey grinned. "No, I had a good time, though I still feel like I've been drug through a knot hole . . . backwards." He sighed, resting his head on the passenger side car window. "When I saw that dinner table, all glittery with your folks' silver and china I was pretty intimidated. And all those wine glasses! Geez, Bailey, do your folks set the table like that every night?" He softly snorted. "Hell, where I come from, we ate off of paper plates!" He lapsed into silence as Bailey drove on, wearing a slight smile.

"I don't know what happened to all those wine glasses," Corey continued, "but you must have put out the word that I get a little weird after a glass of the stuff. Hell," he added. "I'd probably have made a pass at your Mom! She's a nice lady 'n all, but I think I'll stick with her son." He chuckled as he rubbed a hand over Bailey's thigh. "So all n' all, it was nice, though I am glad I can start bein' myself again. It's rough taking the South out of this Southern boy, even for a little while. I'm glad I don't have to do that when I'm around you. I prefer being me, instead of pretending to be someone I'm not, just to please people."

Bailey laughed, choosing to visit the hidden meanings in Corey's comments at a later date. "Is that why you've become so . . . Southern . . . all of a sudden? Cold as an old maid's bed in January?" Bailey teased.

"Well, it is!" Corey protested. "Besides, it sounds better than me screaming, 'gawd, but it's fuckin' cold!', doesn't it?"

"Certainly more . . . picturesque," Bailey granted.

"Yeah, that's me," Corey sighed. "I'm nothin', if not picturesque." He sighed, rubbing the back of his head where he'd hit the driveway.

"Nice guys, Sam and Owen," he continued. "I heard about how great Owen was during my dinner date with Lucas, and from you, of course. In fact, Owen was all Lucas talked about . . . the entire dinner! It's easy to tell everything I've heard about him is true. He reminds me of home," Corey reflected, almost to himself.

"You don't sound too pleased about that," Bailey responded, glancing toward his passenger, who merely shrugged, uncharacteristically somber.

"Home wasn't good?" Bailey ventured, reaching out and squeezing Corey's hand. "You never speak about your folks, or anyone other than your dancing aunt."

Corey sighed. "Not now Bail," he said, in a voice of utter neutrality. "Later perhaps. But . . . not now. Okay?"

"Sure. If you say so."

Corey squeezed Bailey's hand in silent thanks. "All-round, this has been a nice day. I didn't make a fool of myself or break anything at your folks' place. We got to visit with Lucas and Owen and Sam, and, best of all, I'm the one who's getting to go home with the sexy man." He brought Bailey's hand to his mouth for a kiss. "Bingo! I hit the jackpot! Everyone else is jealous, I'm sure." He chuckled, some of his good humor returning. "I'm looking forward to being skin-to-skin with you, my handsome friend. I'm thinking I'd like to taste your tongue, too," he teased, turning his head on the seat's headrest, to face Bailey. "You're an outstanding kisser, y'know?"

"You've kissed that many people to know?"

Corey chuckled. "A few. I'm big on kissing, but, like I said, you're the best."

Jonah looked up, startled out of an erotic dream by the knock on the door. He'd been sprawled on the living room sofa, drowsing, a school textbook resting open on his chest. "Coming," he shouted, at the second knock, adjusting his erection, which shown prominently at the crotch of his sweat shorts. 'Damn,' he thought. 'I can't answer the door like this.' He glanced around then grabbed his textbook and held it in front of him with one hand as he swung the front door open.

"Doctor Johnson!" he smiled, relieved. "Come in." His smile faded. "Is something wrong? Are Mama and the girls okay . . . Sam?"

"Easy," doctor Johnson smiled, patting Jonah on the shoulder as he walked past. "As far as I know, everyone is fine." He watched as Jonah closed the door. "I just came by to bring you this." He held out a deep blue baseball cap emblazoned with the logo of the state university he'd heard Jonah mention. "I know it's not much, but I wanted to make sure you had at least one Christmas gift."

Jonah took the hat, a stunned expression playing across his face. He opened and closed his mouth as if he were unable to speak, then turned a helpless look on the doctor.

"What is it?" Daniel asked, reaching out with a comforting grip on Jonah's bare shoulder. "It's one of those one-size-fits-all caps, so it should fit . . ." Jonah mutely shook his head.

"No . . . no . . . it's not that." He cleared his throat. "It . . ." He glanced at the baseball cap then back at the doctor. "It's just that . . . this is the very first Christmas gift . . . I've ever received." He convulsively swallowed. "Thank you." He set his textbook on the coffee table and donned the hat. "How do I look?"

His overjoyed expression suddenly changed. "Doc, I'm sorry, but I don't have anything to give you."

"Of course you do," Daniel smiled. "We're both alone this Christmas. You can give me the pleasure of your company . . . and," he grinned, "perhaps a cup of coffee?"

"Oh, of course. I should have asked." He gave the doctor a shy smile as he headed toward the kitchen.

Daniel followed the slender young man with his eyes, and was touched when he saw Jonah remove the cap and study it with a wistful smile on his face. 'The poor boy,' he thought. 'There's no reason for him . . . nor anyone in that family, not to have received something as a Christmas gift.'

He wandered into the kitchen and smiled as Jonah once again donned his new cap and went about preparing coffee.

"If you don't mind my askin'," Jonah began, as he lowered himself into a chair at the kitchen table and leaned his elbows on the wooden surface.

Daniel made a slight motion with a hand, giving permission to ask.

"Why're you alone today, Doc? I mean, I know why I'm alone, but why you?" Daniel shrugged, stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed them at the ankles. "Haven't you ever met the right person?" Jonah concluded.

Daniel nodded. "I've met her . . . yes . . . but . . .," he hesitated. "Things are complicated, Jonah," he sighed. "Very complicated."

"They always are, aren't they? I mean, look at Sam and Owen and me. It's tough to imagine things getting much more complicated."

"Oh, I assure you, they can," Daniel laughed. "Sometimes it feels as if I'm doing nothing more than playing out the part of some character in a story. I don't seem to have any control of how things happen. If things were up to me, hell, I'd snatch the woman and take her away from everything."

"Then, why don't you? I mean, if you know what you'd like to do, why don't you?" Both men lapsed into an introspective silence. Finally, Jonah answered his own question. "Complications, I imagine." Daniel snorted a soft response.

"Got that right," he answered. "Waaay too complicated. Besides, I'm not exactly sure of how she feels . . . about me."

"Ask," was the simple reply. "No. Wait!" Jonah grinned, holding out a hand, palm outward. "Complications, right? I'd better keep my mouth shut. Here, I'm feeling as if I'm in no more control about . . . things than you. I shouldn't go about handing out advice, now, should I?"

"Are you missing Sam?"

Jonah nodded. "Yeah. I'm missing the conversation, and . . ." He glanced from underneath his lowered lashes. "Being held." He grinned, blushing. "The other stuff ain't too bad, either. Besides, I don't like being alone. I've done about all the studyin' I can handle, but, in the end, I'm still alone." He drew a cross-hatch pattern on the wooden tabletop with his finger. "I'm hopin' I'm not gonna stay alone."

He looked up with a stricken expression. "I'm sorry, Doc. I wasn't thinkin'. I didn't mean that I didn't want to end up like you." He bowed his head. "I told you I should have stopped talkin' a while back. Now, I've gone and put my foot in my mouth."

"It's no problem, Jonah . . . really. I knew what you meant. Besides, I've sorta become accustomed to the way things are."

Jonah stood, walked to the coffee maker, and poured two cups of the steaming liquid. "I'm not gonna go there," he said, with his back to the doctor. "We both know that neither one of us are satisfied with the way things are."

"You're planning on staying here tonight, aren't you?" Sam asked Lucas, as they left the parking garage and headed to Lucas' apartment. "Both Owen and I are feelin' bad. It's as if we've kicked you out of your own place. It's nice of your folks to let you stay at their house, but this place is yours."

"I'd planned on picking up a few more clothes, then heading back to Mother's and Dad's. I want you guys to have all the privacy you need. After all, you've been apart for months," he concluded, as the elevator door opened on his floor. "You don't need me hanging around." Lucas unlocked the apartment door and opened it, gesturing for the other two men to enter.

Sam took Lucas by the arm as he passed, and guided him to the living room sofa, leaving Owen to close the apartment door and wonder what Sam had in mind. He perched on the arm of an overstuffed leather chair, slowly swinging one leg, looking on as Sam sat on the coffee table.

"You're wrong," Sam said, facing Lucas. "Both Owen and I do need you hanging around, as you call it. You've given the two of us nearly a week of private time, providin' us with groceries, and everything we need . . . everything that is, but your companionship." He reached for Lucas' hands. "I've hardly had a chance to get to know you, and I hate that. Please stay with Owen and me. Give your folks a call and let them know you'll be stayin'." He looked over his shoulder. "I'm right, aren't I?" he asked Owen, who nodded, wondering where Sam had acquired his newfound assertiveness.

'I love it,' Owen thought to himself. 'It's as if we're equal now. He's not leavin' everything to me to decide, trailin' along behind me like an abandoned puppy dog.'

"But, guys," Lucas protested. "Where will I sleep?" He glanced askance at the apartment-sized sofa, too short for him to lie flat, and made a face. "I don't like to sleep on the sofa, or the floor."

"You'll sleep in the bed, of course!" Owen spoke up. "Hell, Lucas, you've got a king size bed. There's room enough for an army." He grimaced. "Well, almost. Certainly enough for the three of us."

Lucas frowned. "Guys . . . I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Good idea or not," Owen broke in. "You're stayin'. You're sleeping in the same bed with Sam and me, and you're going to enjoy it . . . understand?" he asked, with a playful grin.

"Yessir," Lucas responded, turning to Sam. "Does he get all bossy like this very often?" Sam shrugged, as Lucas smiled. "Kinda exciting, isn't it? I mean, he doesn't act macho very often . . . does he."

"That's okay by me," Sam grinned, flicking a glance in Owen's direction. "It leaves more time for me to be the boss."

"Hmm," Lucas agreed, nodding.

"So . . ." Owen said. "Since I'm being macho, call your folks, then let's all go to bed and cuddle." He thrust the cell phone in Lucas' direction.

"Guys . . ." Lucas gave them a wary look.

"Call!"

"Yessir." Lucas took the phone and made the call, while Owen stood behind Sam and slowly massaged his shoulders.

"So I'm not macho enough for you?" he murmured. Sam tilted his head back and smiled up at Owen.

"Just teasing. You okay with this?" he asked, his voice low. Owen leaned forward and kissed Sam's cheek, murmuring in his ear.

"More'n okay."

Lucas closed the phone, with a wary 'what next?' look on his face.

"Bedtime," Owen announced, offering a hand to Sam, then encouraging Lucas to stand, with a firm grasp of his hand. He turned to Sam, as they headed for the bedroom, turning the lights off behind them.

"Y'know," he said, with a smile in his voice and laughing eyes. "Lucas sleeps nekkid, just like you'n me. He also likes to cuddle."

"What are you doing, Owen?" Lucas' voice rose in protest.

"He's trying to put you at ease, my friend," Sam answered. "You're still actin' like I don't know you guys have had sex. I do know. I think it's great that you have. Now, neither Owen or I are suggestin' that the three of us have sex tonight, but . . ."

"We can at least jack off, can't we?" Owen moaned. Lucas rolled his eyes as Sam chuckled.

"But," Sam continued, casting an exasperated look in Owen's direction. "I'd like the three of us to feel comfortable being naked together. I'd like us to be able to touch and . . . stuff. Lucas, you love Owen. I love Owen."

"That's 'cause I'm lovable," Owen murmured, jumping out of Sam's grasp.

"And, he loves both of us," Sam added. "I'd like for you 'n me to get to know one another better."

"Hey, don't leave me out'a this love-fest."

"Do you think we could tape his mouth shut?" Lucas asked in an aside.

"That'd be a mistake," Sam responded. "His mouth and tongue are a couple of his best features. We wouldn't want to deprive ourselves of them." Lucas sagely nodded.

"What about my butt?" Owen protested. Lucas made a throw away gesture. "I'd give it a seven, on a ten point scale," Lucas added, falling into the playful mood.

"So high?" Sam asked. "I was thinking more like a five."

"Hey! I'm way better 'n a five, or a seven!" Owen dropped his trousers and skinned out of his underwear, turning his back to the two men who sat on the edge of the bed. He slapped his butt, leaving behind a pink impression of his hand on the milky-white skin. "This is a prime, grade A, number one, high class butt."

"Show off," Lucas chuckled, as he tried to adjust his growing erection. The sight of Owen's butt and hairless hole always affected him in the same way.

"Yeah, well since I'm such a show-off, and since I'm naked from the waist down, why don't you guys each choose a cheek and kiss it?" He leaned forward, bracing himself with his hands on his knees, thrusting his bare cheeks in their direction. "Show me that you love me," he chuckled, spreading his cheeks further and running the tip of his forefinger over his hairless anus.

"Seein' him like this, half naked, actin' macho'n all, makes me sorta horny," Sam said, turning to Lucas. "And," he continued. "I never could turn down an opportunity to kiss Owen's butt. What about you?" he asked.

"Ahem."

"He's just shy," Owen called, shaking his butt at the same time he dropped his shirt onto the floor. "I'm naked now! It's time for you guys to kiss my ass." He looked over his shoulder, first at Sam, then Lucas. "You guys have to be naked too." He leaned forward and pushed his erection down, so it was visible between his legs. "I'm hard. You guys can be too."

"Lucas?" Sam asked. "Join me?"

"I'm waiting!" Another slow wiggle, this time with spread cheeks. Sam slapped his hand.

"It's not necessary to keep showing us that, Owen!" he laughed, quickly stripping and tossing his clothes on top of Owen's.

"C'mon, Lucas. Owen's reserved a cheek with your name on it." He slapped the ass cheek opposite where he was kneeling, causing Owen to jump.

"Hey!"

"Y'sure? I mean . . . really?"

"We're sure!" Owen shouted, his impatience showing. "I can't hold this position forever, y'know. The blood's all gonna run to my brain and I'll lose my hard-on. Then where will I be? So . . . strip-off and pucker up or I'm gonna withdraw the offer. Now, Lucas," he added. "Don't be so shy, and don't be intimidated by Sam's dick. It's the product of a deranged plastic surgeon who happened to pass through Riverton."

Another flat-handed slap against the skin of Owen' butt.

"Quiet," Sam warned, barely controlling his laugher. "You promised not to tell."

"Sorry. I thought we were all friends." Owen jumped as both Lucas and Sam began kissing and licking his butt cheeks. Someone cupped his scrotum while someone else gently toyed with his butt hole.

"Ooooh," he cooed. "That's so good. But," he added, standing up, then jumping into the middle of the large bed. "Now, it's time to do some real kissing." He wiggled his tongue. "C'mon, men. My tongue is meant to be shared equally."

"G'on," Sam urged, running a hand over Lucas's back, then down to the swell of his butt. "You first."

"I've already kissed Owen," Lucas murmured, suddenly bashful, but excited by Sam's naked body and prominent erection. "But, I've not kissed you, yet." He raised his eyebrows and opened his arms. "Okay?"

"Oh, yes," Sam answered, stepping into Lucas' embrace, opening his mouth to Lucas' tongue for a brief kiss.

"Whew," Owen added, by way of commentary. "Now, that's a ten if I've ever seen one!" Sam and Lucas parted, each slightly breathless. "Now me." Owen urged. "C'mon guys. Enough joking around. Turn off the light. I'm ready to get serious."

Sam jumped onto the bed and crawled to one side of Owen, and they began kissing as Lucas looked on, his hands roaming over Owen's then Sam's body, wondering how he'd ever been talked into this, and loving every minute of it. The cloud of doubt about how Sam would react to his and Owen's intimacies had been lifted. On one hand, he wanted to shout with joy because he and Owen could continue their relationship after Sam returned home. On the other hand, he knew Owen would eventually return to Sam's side. 'Leaving me . . . where?', he wondered.

"Your turn," Sam grinned, leaning across Owen to kiss Lucas. "I'm lookin' forward to handlin' your sexy body." Lucas grinned uncertainly. 'Sexy?' he thought to himself. 'Hell, I'm the toad, compared with these two guys. Owen, with all his muscles, perfect skin, and wonderful smile; and Sam, with the mischievous glint to his eyes, almost hairless body, firm round butt, and beautiful penis. Me,' Lucas continued. 'Well . . . I'm glad they like what they see.'

"Hey, Cowboy," he murmured, draping one arm over Owen's chest and bringing his face close enough that he could feel the warmth of Owen's breath on his face.

"Hey yourself," Owen murmured, grinning. "I've been hoping the three of us could get together."

"You planned this?" Lucas' voice was barely more than a whisper.

"No. Just hoped." Owen reached up and pulled Lucas close, opening his mouth and welcoming Lucas' tongue with the same groan of pleasure as when he and Sam had kissed.

"Guys," Sam interrupted. "I gotta say that watching and listening to you two kiss, plus feelin' Lucas-up has got me wantin' to shoot." Sam dragged the head of his dripping cock over Lucas' cheek, and grinned when Lucas attempted to lick over the glistening trail. "C'mon, sexy, let's shoot our loads onto Owen."

"Uuuu, yeah," Owen smiled his agreement. "I love the idea of being spermed, then getting a tongue bath." He patted the side of the bed opposite Sam. "C'mon Lucas, you get on this side so I can alternate playing with you guys as we jack off.

Owen spit into his hand and began masturbating himself with his right hand while fondled Sam's scrotum with his left. A few minutes later, he changed hands and began playing with Lucas, this time, alternating running a finger over Lucas' hole and reaching through Lucas' legs to play with his butt cheeks.

"Aw fuck," Lucas groaned, closing his eyes and thrusting his hips forward. He ceased stroking himself, squeezed, and aimed his cock at Owen's face. A moment later his sperm shot out, hitting Owen, leaving a trail of white across his chin, mouth, and cheek, and making him flinch.

He opened his eyes just as Sam's cock erupted, draping three thick strands of sperm over Owen' chest. Sam had closed his eyes and was taking gulping breaths of air, jerking with each shot. 'Damn, that's so hot,' Lucas thought, mesmerized by the sight of Sam's cock. 'I wonder what it'd be like to have that thing up my butt.' He fancied he felt his anus twitch at the thought.

Now, it was Owen's turn. He rubbed a hand over his chest, gathering up some of Sam's jiz, and began using it a a lube. It only took a couple strokes, before he arched his back and added his own cum to that already covering his body. "Oh geez," he panted, slowly beginning to relax. "Go to it, guys." He grinned at both of them with a slightly glazed expression. "I'm all yours."

Jonah stood on the porch as the doctor drove off. 'It's been a nice Christmas,' he thought, to himself. The only thing that could make it better would be to have Sam with me. "He cupped his heavy balls and thick cock through the thin fabric of his exercise shorts, closing the door to the house behind him. 'I'd sure like to have him lick his jiz off of me.'

Jonah sat on the edge of the sofa cushion and extended both legs, resting them on the coffee table, spread as wide as possible, and began fondling his balls and stroking his cock, using his pre-cum as a slippery lube.

"Oh yeah," he murmured aloud, imagining Sam sitting on his cock, fucking himself with slow motions. Sam's sphincter almost seemed to milk him of everything he had. He knew for a fact, that after fucking Sam, he felt completely drained. When he masturbated himself, he could go again in only a short while. Riding Sam left him empty and exhausted.

He squeezed the base of his own cock with one hand as he slowly stimulated himself with the other, imagining feeling Sam's weight and the intensely hot sensation of being inside Sam, knowing that they both were about ready to shoot.

"C'mon lover," he aid aloud, using a word he never had enough nerve to use with Sam present. "I'm gonna fill you till you can't hold any more." One stroke. Another, and a final one, as his penis expanded. He arched his back, and watched his piss slit spread wide and spit out two thick streams of white. The first hit him on the chin. The second, splashed across his belly, while the third and fourth, merely oozed out, coating his fist as he slowly continued to stimulate himself, as his breathing slowed.

'I wish all that was inside you, my friend,' he thought, feeling a slight tingling at the base of his scrotum as he imagined sucking his own sperm out of Sam's smooth butt hole.

He gathered up as much of the slippery liquid as possible with his hand then licked his fingers clean. 'Come home soon, Sam. I'm missin' you so.'

~ to be continued ~

Thank you for taking the time to read my work. I always welcome your email and enjoy hearing your thoughts. If you would like me to send you a pic of the character(s), please ask.

My other stories on Nifty include: Phalen (located in the Gay College Section) Phalen - Finding Happiness (Gay College Section) Phalen - Reputation and Honor (upcoming) Chris (Gay College Section) Leith (Gay College Section) Owen (Gay College Section Wesley (Adult Relationships Section) Jess (Gay Incest Section) Travis (Gay Incest Section)

I hope you enjoy them all.

Roy Reinikainen roynm@mac.com