Seal Rocks

Seal Rocks Part 10

Thanks to all who've written - please let me know what

you think of this, as it's growing in the telling. You all

know, or should know, the disclaimers - this is entirely

fictional, contains graphic sex, and should only be read by

adults. All that. Thanks again.

That night, Jesse dreamed of his father. He was walking into the living room of their house, with his father in his recliner, hidden, facing away from him watching TV. As Jesse drew closer, he was nervous - was his dad really there, and what sort of shape was he in? Then Jesse saw that the TV had the video of himself and Mike playing on it. His dad was watching Mike fuck him from behind, in slow motion. He tried to open his mouth to say something, to explain, to protest, but nothing would come out. The recliner turned slowly towards him, and his father appeared - neck twisted at a grotesque angle, eyes bugging out, skin grey and deathlike. He stared up at Jesse with lifeless eyes. But his voice was strong and even.

"Hey bud," he said. He had called Jesse that when he was small. Jesse remembered running and hiding from him in a park, behind palmetto trees, when he was a toddler, on a base somewhere, in the broiling sun, his father laughing and pretending to chase him. "Hey, bud, come here."

Jesse moved closer, leaning against the palmetto trunk. "Daddy," he whispered in a child's voice. "I didn't mean it."

The cadaver mouth twisted into a grimacing smile. "Yes you did, bud. Every word of it. Blamed me for messing up. Dishonored me."

Jesse shuddered. "honor" wasn't just a word to his father, it was a way of like. The Corps had drilled that so deeply into him that he practically wore it on his forehead. "What honor," his father asked, "have you left me?"

Jesse's anger flared. "You beat us up, Daddy," he accused. "You could have killed us. You beat up Mom. You you killed Tina."

The dead eyes flickered downwards. "My honor was gone long ago," he said tonelessly. "I lost my family long ago."

"Daddy, you can't lose me, I love you," Jesse said, frightened.

"You threw me away, bud. All I ever did wrong, I never threw you away."

"Bullshit Daddy. You beat up your wife."

He nodded. "And you," he said. "I used to hit Ben, too but not like that. I'm glad Gloria (Jesse's little sister) was away at camp so she didn't see this."

"Don't try to put your shame on me, Dad," Jesse said, his voice now his normal one. "You did this."

"Not all of it. Not all of it. I molested my own son, that's what they'll know about me. My own son." He looked up at Jesse. "Is it worth that?"

Jesse choked. "I had to, Dad. They'd find out."

His father turned towards the TV and watched. Jesse's face, in close up, was grimacing and panting as he was penetrated again and again. "Is that worth it, bud? Doing that is more important than your father?"

"It's who I am, Dad," Jesse objected. He was crying heavily now. "I love him."

"You love another man," his father said evenly. "My great disappointment."

Jesse's rage kindled. "Fuck you you hateful selfish old bastard, you tried to kill my Mommy, I hate you!" He threw the chair over and lifted it over his head, bringing it down again and again on the twisted corpse of his father lying at his feet, in the dappled shadows of the palmetto fronds. His father kept looking at him calmly, apparently feeling nothing, offering no resistance. Jesse was crushing his body with every blow, bones were cracking, blood spurting, but nothing - no cry of pain, no shout, no attempt at self defense. Just the eyes, looking at him . . .

He sat up in bed, sobbing, panting, shouting. He had no idea where he was. He tried to get out of bed, but a searing pain and wave of dizziness made him fall back onto the pillow. A light clicked on, burning his eyes, and a woman stood over him, saying something. His father was still speaking, fainter and fainter: "Why, bud?"

"Daddy!!" Jesse screamed as loudly as he could, bolting up again and sending the nurse flying backwards. He buried his face in his hands as the nurse again approached him.

"OK now, calm down, you need to calm down. You had a dream. It's over now, it's OK."

Jesse suddenly felt cold and hard as steel. He lifted his face and looked the nurse in the eye, with no sign of tears or upset.

"No," he said sharply. "It is not OK. Nothing is OK."

He awoke around 8 the next morning, when the sedative the nurse gave him wore off. Dr. Stassi was in the room signing something on a chart. "Morning, Jesse," he said in a calm voice. "Looks like you had a rough night."

Jesse blinked through the morning fog, trying to remember. When he did, he shuddered. "Um, yeah. Bad dream I guess. Sorry."

Dr. Stassi shrugged. "No need. Since you're awake I'd like to get you down to the CAT scan now, before the day's appointments start. That'll be quicker. OK?"

"Sure, whatever."

Carlotta appeared in the room a few seconds later with a wheelchair. "Have a seat, young man, and get a first class ride."

Jesse half laughed. "I don't need that - I can walk."

Carlotta nodded. "Humor me. The hospital has its liability rules. You need to use the restroom before you go?"

He did. "Um, do I have to pee in the jar again?"

Carlotta smiled. "Not any more, honey. We're OK on that now. That's why we took you off the drip last night."

Jesse sat up slowly, fought off the momentary dizziness, and slid onto his feet, touching the side of the bed lightly until he caught his balance. Carlotta was beside him instantly. "It's OK, I'm doing OK now," he said, and padded into the bathroom.

It was after he'd pissed that he finally looked at himself in the mirror. He had stitches across the bridge of his nose, both eyes had deep black half circles beneath them. There was a nasty bruise on the left side of his chin, and some scrapes on both cheeks. Jesus, he thought, I look worse than Mom. The thought hardened him again: so I'm supposed to feel sorry for you, huh? Look at me, look at Mom. Bastard. He strode angrily out of the bathroom, ignoring the thumping in his head.

"You all right there, honey?" Carlotta asked.

Jesse threw himself into the wheelchair. "Yeah. Great. Let's go, OK?"

Through all that had happened, Jesse had never felt any real fear. That changed as the technicians strapped him onto the steel slab that would slide him into the CAT scan machine. It looked like a tunnel into a shining steel monster, a gleaming hole of a torture implement. "D - do I have to be like trussed up and all?" he asked, squirming against the restraints.

One of the lab techs - a burly, bearded guy probably in his late 30s - smiled and laughed as he bent over Jesse. The smell of his cigarette breath washed over him, and he felt slightly nauseous. "It's OK, kid, we have to keep you as still as possible for the machine to read right. It's better if the patient's unconscious, to tell the truth. Fewer worries."

That's nice, Jesse thought. I'll just hit myself over the head with a 2x4 and you guys can have your fun. They were packing cold plastic covered padding around his head now to immobilize it. The other tech, a thin Asian man with impossibly long, graceful hands, was arranging the padding by his throat. He smiled down at Jesse. "It'll be OK," he reassured Jesse. "This only takes a minute, and you won't feel a thing. We just need to be sure we get a good image series, OK?"

Jesse swallowed hard. "OK."

The faint hums of the machine's various parts as it turned on did little to reassure Jesse. And when the metal table he was strapped to slowly slid him into the machine's round maw, he closed his eyes and tried as hard as he could not to panic. Relax, it's all right, this'll just take a minute. It did, but it was a very, very long minute before Jesse was slowly ejected from the chamber and back into the comparative warmth of the examination room.

"You OK, son?" The Asian tech asked as he and his colleague quickly unstrapped Jesse.

"Yeah, fine." It wasn't until he sat up that he felt how soaked with sweat his gown was.

He changed before sliding back into bed in his room. The adrenaline rush his fear had caused was past, and he was tired again. His head felt funny. He closed his eyes and drifted off.

The noise of his mother's arrival awakened him. She was dressed in a stylish dark blue sweatsuit Dad had gotten her for Christmas last year. Her face looked a lot better less puffy, with a lot of the bruises fading already. Or maybe it was just a shitload of makeup, Jesse thought. "Hello, Jesse!" she trilled as if waking him on a perfectly normal Saturday morning. "Did you get a good night's sleep, baby?"

"Yeah Mom, great," he lied. So she was being discharged. Good. But what about him?

"Your brother is parking the car, he'll be here any minute," she continued. "It's so good do see him!" The reason for his being here she appeared to have suppressed for the moment.

He went into the bathroom and composed himself as best he could: washed his face, smoothed his hair (by now really greasy) over, brushed his teeth with the hospital issue tiny toothbrush, and put on a new gown and some deodorant. He was walking, a bit unsteadily, back to the bed when Ben came in at about 90 miles an hour.

His appearance was a shock to Jesse. Ben had always looked more like his father than Jesse had: The strong brow line and jaw, the piercing grey eyes, the light brown hair. That resemblance was only made greater by the military haircut he now wore, in anticipation of his reporting to basic training in early August. But he'd obviously not slept: his face was sallow, his eyes deep set and lined below with dark pouches. He grabbed Jesse into an embrace that felt like it'd surely crush them both, his left hand in Jesse's hair. "Hey Ben," Jesse managed to croak out as his ribs slowly collapsed.

Ben pulled back and looked at Jesse's face, his eyes tearing up. He ran a hand over Jesse's cheek. "Oh God, Jes," he whispered shakily. "Oh God."

This time it was Jesse who grabbed Ben into an embrace, hanging on for dear life and crying. His brother's finger dug into his back, and for a minute or two they stood together, shoulders shaking. Jesse's mother sank into the only chair in the room, wiping her eyes.

Ben finally broke away with a loud sniffle. "You doing better today?" he asked in as casual a voice as he could muster.

"Yeah, a lot. I - I'm glad you're here."

"Me too. Better late than never I guess."

Dr. Stassi knocked and entered. He introduced himself to Ben, politely, then turned to Jesse. "I think you should stick around one more day, Jesse. Things look good, but I'd like to be more certain before we send you out into the wild world." He looked at Jesse's mother. "Is that all right, Mrs. Sullivan?"

Jesse's mom had barely composed herself. "Of course, whatever you think is best. I would like to have Jesse out tomorrow, though, for the memorial. He needs - to say goodbye," she explained with a slight catch in her voice.

"I don't think that'll be any problem, ma'am," Dr. Stassi answered. "The scan results were very good - no hemorrhaging of any type, affected area shrinking rapidly. You're a horse, Jesse - you'll be just fine before you know it."

"When will I stop being dizzy?"

Ben took hold of him by the shoulders. "You dizzy now, Jes? Let me get you back in bed."

Jesse smiled, letting Ben mother hen him like he always had. "I'm OK, Ben. I'm OK now. I just sort of get hit with it sometimes." He sat on the edge of the bed, Ben close by him.

"Mrs. Sullivan," Dr. Stassi said, clearly conscious of the mood in the room, "I'd like to take one last look at you before you go, if I could. And there's some paperwork, I'm afraid."

"Of course." She rose and walked to the bedside, putting a hand on each of her sons' faces. "You two talk all you like. Ben, call me when you're ready to leave."

Ben nodded and smiled. Jesse loved it when Ben smiled; it reminded him of when they were younger and they'd play together. Ben always stood up for Jesse, even with their father, and protected Jesse against anything he could think of, however implausible. Jesse felt safe with Ben around.

When they were alone, Ben turned to him. "Jes, I'm sorry. I didn't know. I can't believe -"

"No, Ben, it's not like that. Dad - Dad didn't do that stuff."

Ben stared at him, perplexed. "But they said you told them -"

"I told them he never hurt me. They thought I was just being tough or something."

"But Jes, they found, like, evidence. You know."

"Yeah, they did." Jesse took a deep breath. "But not from Dad."

Ben took a moment to process this. "Oh shit, Jesse, who did this? You've got to tell them, they have to be stopped - "

"Ben," Jesse pleaded. "It's not like that."

It took Ben another, longer moment this time. "Holy shit," he finally said.

Jesse felt tears coming to his eyes. Ben would hate him now, he'd lose him just like he'd lost his father, and it'd all be his fault. And when his mother found out, he'd lose her, too. All his fault. He watched Ben's face, waiting for the disgust, the disbelief, and repulsion.

Then Ben gently took Jesse in his arms and hugged him. "Oh, Jes," he whispered very quietly. "Oh my poor little bro. I'm so sorry, I didn't get it."

Jesse clung to Ben, sobbing. "Please don't hate me, Ben. I can't handle that."

Ben pulled back a bit and wiped Jesse's face. "I don't hate you, Jes, I could never hate you. You're my brother, I love you to death." They embraced again. "But you have to tell me everything - how this happened, who with, everything."

Jesse blinked as he stared over Bens' shoulder. Everything, he thought. God, isn't the basic version bad enough? "Promise you won't do anything?"

"Jes. I don't care about that - I just don't want you taken advantage of by some old guy or anything like that."

Jesse shook his head. "It -it's Mike."

Ben considered this for a little. "Yeah, that makes sense," he nodded. He looked at Jesse with a smile. "It must be pretty intense then - you two are so close anyway."

Jesse could barely hold himself together. "Ben, I - I love him so much."

Ben smiled. "It's OK, Jes. Relax."

"No, it's not," Jesse protested. "It got Dad killed, and Mike's all scared, and last night Kate Sandowski came in here and - and played with me, and I'm all guilty for - for liking it, and Mike'll think I'm like a slut or something . . ." It was all pouring out, until Ben placed a gentle hand over his mouth.

"Whoa, slow down. What about Kate Sandowski?" Jesse briefly described his encounter. Ben suppressed a giggle. "Damn, Jesse, you're doing better than I do up at Cal! Was that part of your therapy?"

Jesse giggled wetly. "Nah," he sniffled, "just a little extra, I guess."

"Chicks dig scars, Jes," Ben teased him, and they began laughing hard for a minute or so.

Jesse quieted first. "Ben, I have to tell Mom. She at least needs to know that Dad - Dad wasn't like that."

Ben nodded. "I understand, Jes, but he was a lot of other bad things. He was mean to you - well, both of us, but especially you - and to Mom, and look what he did to the two of you. This isn't the first time he's hit people." His hand again stroked Jesse's bruised cheek. "I don't think I could ever have forgiven him for this if he'd lived."

"I know, but that's not the point. He - he had, you know, faults and all -" Ben snorted in agreement " - but he wasn't - he didn't like molest me. He doesn't deserve to be called that."

Ben sighed. "They've closed the investigation, you know. It's all official - the conclusion is that Dad assaulted you, probably lots of times, flew off the handle and beat you guys under stress Thursday, and hung himself when he was confronted with what he'd done."

Jesse put his head in his hands. "That's my fault, don't you see? I killed him, Ben. I killed Dad. He did it because of the shame . . ."

"Bullshit, Jesse. You were out cold and hadn't told anyone a thing when he died. Nothing you said made him do that."

"But he knew, Ben. When they told him, he had to know that - that I was a faggot."

Ben stiffened. "You ever call yourself that again, you'll have another concussion, you hear me?" Jesse, surprised by the vehemence of this command, nodded. "Jes, you're still you, nothing's changed."

"He couldn't deal with that, Ben. With one of his sons being gay."

Ben licked his lips. "Oh yes he could. He already has."

Jesse's jaw fell open. He stared at his brother so stupidly, and for so long, that Ben's initial nervous look while making his confession dissolved into laughter. "Well you could say something, asshole!"

Jesse couldn't think of anything to say. "B - but you - you're like - aw, no way, Ben!!"

Ben shrugged and smiled ruefully. "Well, bisexual I guess is better. I, uh, I sort of fell for Brent - my freshman roommate, remember?" Jesse did: a lithe platinum blonde guy with a sparkling smile and impossibly blue eyes. Jesse had thought him a god when they first met, and Ben had seemed so happy to be in college and with Brent and grown up and gone from Jesse's life . . . he had wound up perversely hating Brent for that. "Well, we sort of got involved, and I decided I had to tell Dad. He got - really, really mad. He hit me."

Jesse blinked. "Was that the time you like left in the middle of the night?"

"Yeah. I was kinda bloody. I hit him back, though, and he stopped. He never should have taught me hand to hand," he smiled grimly. "That was when he told me I had to go into ROTC and the Corps or he'd stop supporting my tuition and stuff." He sighed and ran a hand over his military-short hair. "So I did. He said it'd cure me, that it'd make me a man."

"Has it?"

Ben smiled. "It's not all bad, Jes. It's - I'm really proud to serve, and all. It's a good thing."

"But won't they like bust you out if they find out you're gay?"

"They won't find out."

"How? You can't be like, um, celibate your whole life."

"I'm not," Ben laughed, "believe me. You met Jeanine, remember?" She was Ben's girlfriend, a funny brunette girl who'd treated Jesse like her own little brother when he'd visited Ben the previous month - it seemed years ago now. "She and I - well, you know . . ."

"But what about Brent?"

"We still see each other. He's sort of into running around with anything he can get into bed; I don't like that. It's dangerous, for one thing. You do understand that, right?" Ben looked hard at Jesse, who nodded. "But, you know, we're friends, and sometimes we just, uh, do stuff, you know, together . . ."

Jesse shook his head. "Does Jeanine know?"

Ben shook his head. "I don't know what I'd tell her, honestly. How she'd react. I really like her, Jes," he added defensively. "I don't wanna like fuck it up."

Jesse stared into space, thinking. He was young, answers for him were simple and clear cut - not a bad viewpoint, actually. "But isn't it gonna get fucked up eventually? I mean, if you got to like decide, or do one and not the other."

Ben sighed. "I don't know, Jes. It's complicated. Brent's a good friend, and - and I like doing stuff with him, but I really like Jeanine. Complicated."

Jesse sighed in his turn. "I guess. It's all pretty complicated all of a sudden." He looked up at his brother. "Is Mom going to be OK - money wise and all?"

Ben nodded. "I think so. Dad's survivor benefits should take care of her, at least the basics. She may have to sell the house, though - move someplace cheaper."

The idea of leaving his home hit Jesse like a weight, deep in his stomach. "Oh, shit," was all he could think of to say.

There was a knock on the door, and Mike poked his head inside. "Hey, dude!" Jesse cried as he saw his familiar face, trying to put the uncertain future out of his mind. Seeing Mike made that easy to do.

"I can come back," Mike said sheepishly. "I didn't know - "

"C'mon in Mike," Ben said with a wide smile. "We're just shootin' the shit here. And I think Jes needs to see you anyway," he added with a wry smile.

Mike stopped in his tracks halfway into the room and turned beet red. Jesse started laughing and held out his arms. "It's OK, dude, Ben knows and -" he looked at Ben who shook his head slightly "- and he's OK with it."

Mike looked at Ben, who nodded, before crossing the rest of the way to the bed and tentatively touching Jesse's cheek. He looked back at Ben. "You sure you're, like, OK and - "

"Relax, Mike. I live up around San Francisco, right? Lots of gay guys up there. I, uh, I even know some," he added with a slight flicker in his eyes.

Mike exhaled in relief. "Ben, I'm so sorry about your dad, it's - "

"Thanks, Mike, no sweat. I got to say I'm not that sorry myself." Mike looked down at Jesse. "Did you tell him - "

"Yeah."

"So what do we do, Ben?"

Ben took a deep breath. "Up to Jesse, I think. I'll tell Mom, along with some other stuff she should know." He looked hard at Jesse for a moment. "But I think the cops and all are pretty much done, and it doesn't change what basically happened. It's not like the suspicions of molestation have leaked - it's all been pretty hush hush. So Dad's reputation isn't like tarnished or anything. It'll be easier for you two to just let it alone."

"But you'll tell Mom, right?" Jesse asked.

"I will. Don't worry about it, OK?" He looked at the two of them, on the bed together, secretly envying their bond. "Mom'll be fine."

The door opened again, and Jesse's mother walked in smiling. "Oh, Mike, I'm so glad you're here to keep Jesse company! He's going to be so lonely here today, I'm afraid." Mike murmured something embarrassed, while she looked at Ben. "We need to go now, dear. We have a lot to do." Her voice was quiet, but steely - she had braced herself for a hard and emotional day.

Ben nodded and turned, directing his mother into the wheelchair that Carlotta had pushed to the doorway. "They need you to go out like this, Mom," he said. "Liability stuff and all."

"Well, it's silly, but I understand." She bent over Jesse and kissed him on the forehead, her cool hand running in his hair and across his cheek. "I'll be back later on, baby, and you'll be going home tomorrow - as long as you behave."

" `K, Mom," Jesse smiled back. "I won't wreck anything too much today."

She held her composure, with some difficulty, and sat down in the wheelchair. As Carlotta turned it and started out, she called over her shoulder, "Stay as long as you like, Mike, I'll tell your mother."

"Thanks, Mrs. Sullivan," Mike answered. When they were alone, he sank onto the bed by Jesse's hip. "Are you OK?"

Jesse smiled and put his hand on Mike's leg. "Great. Especially now."

"I - I thought they were letting you out today and all."

Jesse shrugged. "They want one more day. They did a scan thing, maybe they saw something."

"Something bad?" Mike sat up straight, concerned.

"Not from what they told me," Jesse answered. "Just like a precaution, I guess."

"OK," said Mike, not sounding very convinced.

Jesse laughed softly. "Relax, I'm gonna be OK."

Mike smiled, but he was suddenly tearing up. "I know," he said in a cracking voice, "but it's - I've been so scared, Jes. About you, and us, and th - the Web stuff. Everything . . ."

"I know." He pulled Mike into an embrace, his nose buried in Mike's fragrant hair. His whole body seemed to relax. "You, uh, you missed quite a night here." Mike pulled back a little to look at him questioningly, and Jesse told him about Ernie's visit and the money they'd earned. "I can pay off Dad's credit cards and stuff with the money, Mike. I can help."

"How do you explain it to your mom?

"I don't. I get home first usually. I just scan the mail, pull out bills I can pay and get rid of them. She doesn't know, she doesn't ask anything."

"She'll catch on."

"Maybe. She's not too good with that sort of stuff. I have to try, anyway." He paused. "Ben - Ben thinks she may have to sell the house."

Mike frowned. "I can give you my money, too, if you want. It's not like I need it or anything."

Jesse gulped: now it was his turn to tear up. "I - I can't ask that, Mike. I mean it's like I got you into all that, and -"

"Bull. It just happened. We did it together, we're in it together." They fell quiet for a minute. "So, Ernie wants more, huh?"

"If we want to do it."

Mike looked at him. "It'll pay for stuff for your mom, right?"

"Yeah, it'll probably help." Mike understood him so well it was scary sometimes.

"Well, you better get well fast, then," he said with a crooked smile. "I need my booty call."

Jesse laughed harder than he'd laughed since before he'd gotten hurt. His head throbbed quietly from it, but he didn't care. Mike was there, with him. His co-conspirator, his lover, his fuck. His booty call. Mike lay alongside Jesse now, pulling the two of them together, and they kissed softly, close lipped - Jesse's tongue still was pretty sore. Jesse felt himself respond to Mike's body. He pushed against Mike's hips through the thin hospital blanket and his gown.

"Whoa there, dude," Mike whispered. "You better take it easy, you're hurt."

"Not there." Jesse smiled. "Besides, I didn't tell you the rest of last night." He suddenly felt awkward. Would Mike be angry, jealous? "I, uh - I had another visitor."

"Ya?" Mike sensed his unease.

Jesse nodded. "Kate. Kate Sandowski."

Mike's look became perplexed. "That was cool of her. What's wrong then?"

Jesse felt himself blushing. "Well, it was, um, quite a visit." He described what had happened briefly. Mike sat with his mouth open. Jesse searched his eyes as he spoke for some sign of anger or resentment.

"It just happened, Mike, I didn't encourage it or mean it to happen or anything," Jesse finally concluded. "Don't be mad, OK? I - I still only love you, you know that, right?"

Mike shook his head as Jesse held his breath. "You amaze me. You get beat up within an inch of your life, you're in a hospital bed with a concussion, and you get laid." He started laughing. "Amazing."

"You're not mad?"

Mike laughed harder. "Mad?! I'm fucking envious! That must have been hot - getting laid in a hospital." He shook his head again.

Jesse shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I didn't get laid. Not technically."

"Close enough." Mike bent down and kissed his cheek. "You want her more than me?"

"No," Jesse protested, "didn't you hear what I just said?"

"Yeah, I did. That's why I asked, cuz I knew the answer. Shit happens, dude. I may have to set up cameras like Ernie did to keep track of you in here. My own little beat-off tapes."

Jesse giggled. "It was pretty amazing, actually. Really caught me off guard." His grin faded. "She felt really good, to be honest - but all I could think of was how I wanted you"

"Really?"

"Ya," Jesse, answered, blushing a little. "Actually, how I wanted your cock - in my mouth, in my ass, y'know." He lowered his eyes to Mike's collarbone and smiled softly. "It's a nice cock."

Mike's hand ran through Jesse's hair and across his cheek. Jesse's eyes closed reflexively from the warmth of the gesture. "You're off the shelf for a little, Jes. You need to get better. I'd be scared to do anything with you regardless of what Kate did."

"I know," Jesse sighed. "I probably can't even really kiss you for like a month or so or my tongue'll fall out or something. Sucks."

Mike smiled and shifted his weight; Jesse could feel his hardness.

Jesse put his hand on Mike's zipper. "Dude, don't. Be careful."

"I'm not doing anything that'll hurt me. Just what'll be good for you." His fingers tugged at the zipper, undid the waist button. "I wanna make you come, Mike. Right now. So I can watch, and get it on me."

He opened his gown with his other hand while pushing Mike's cargo shorts downward. When his hand wrapped around Mike's shaft, he felt Mike shake slightly. "Oh, dude. Oh, Jes," was all he said, falling quickly into a rhythm with Jesse's stroking. Jesse shifted his body downwards on the bed, putting his chest and throat near Mike's cock. Mike unconsciously helped by rising partly onto one knee over Jesse as he grew more stimulated. Jesse watched Mike's face scrunch up, his eyes closed, as he neared the breaking point. "Oh shit, Jes, oh shit, I - I - gonna - Oooooohhhh . . ." The head of his cock was huge, purple, stretched like a balloon near bursting. The ooze from it began to show whitish. Suddenly he jerked hard forward and poured himself onto Jesse's chest and neck, groaning loudly with each ropy spurt. Mike was trying to say something, but wasn't being especially articulate. Jesse simply whispered, "Sssshhh," and kept pumping until Mike sagged away, gasping for breath, his cheeks mottled red and sweaty, his hair lightly stuck to his forehead.

Jesse released Mike's cock and brought his hand to his nose. He inhaled the aroma of Mike's semen, looking at it drooling downwards on his hand. He carefully licked his hand all over, cleaning it up as best he could, then ran both hands over where Mike had sprayed him, rubbing the fragrant thick liquid into his skin. He wanted to keep the smell of it with him, it made him feel so safe and cozy and loved. He wasn't even conscious of his own hardness until Mike took a deep breath, threw back the blankets, and took him into his mouth. He was definitely aware of it then, though. His right hand flew into Mike's hair, his left clutched at the steel rail along the side of the bed, and he held his breath as much as he could to keep from crying aloud. He lost control in seconds, it seemed, and the white pulse of his orgasm came this time with less pain in his head, at least at first. But he kept coming and coming, and his whole body soon ached for release from the sensations. "Too much dude," he croaked, pushing at Mike, and as he lifted upwards and released Jesse's cock from his mouth, Jesse felt himself shuddering over and over as if unable to stop himself. He groped blindly for Mike, and only when safely back in his arms did Jesse finally come down, sinking slowly into the bed exhausted like he'd seldom felt in his life.

Mike looked at him. He had a few stray splotches of come on his face. Jesse smiled. "You're all messy," he whispered.

"You, too. On your chest and all."

"MMmmm," Jesse said, stretching. "I like it."

"Me, too, Jes. A lot." He sat up a little. "Dude, you gotta know I'm here for you. Like whatever happens, with your family, and your dad and mom and -"

"I know," Jesse smiled. "I know."