Here, embarrassingly delayed, is the next part of the story. My apologies for that delay, and especially to the folks who've e-mailed asking what was going on. Life was going on, in essence, and writing has to take a back seat sometimes. Please let me know what you think of the story - I actually enjoy getting critiques, compliments (especially those, no surprise), even flames. At least I know then that someone's interested!
The usual caveats apply here. This is entirely fiction, though I do include actual places to ground the story. It's my property, subject to Nifty's User Agreement, and if it's ilegal to read this stuff where you are turn around now.
Seal Rocks Part 12
The next morning, Jesse watched from the T-Street pedestrian bridge as his father's funeral boat slowly motored to the back side of Seal Rocks. He remembered his father paddling him out there in the summer after fourth grade, Jesse clinging to his father's eight-foot board for dear life and his father reassuring him the whole way.
The world on the far side of the rocks was different somehow. The noise of the breakers inshore was almost inaudible, and the beach itself seemed an eternity away. Dolphins splashed between their board and the rocks, and Jesse could see them, and the seals as well, flashing by underwater. A few seals poked their heads above the water and stared at them, regarding them with a dog's curiosity. The ones draped across the rocks barely stirred from their daytime torpor. The air smelled faintly of the salt spray, damp stone, bird guano, rotting seaweed, and seal excrement. It had an oddly fresh and invigorating quality.
"Let's go closer, Dad," he pleaded.
"No Jesse, the seals own the rocks. We just visit."
"But I see people boat out here and climb on the rocks all the time."
"Some do, but not us. We respect their privacy - their home. They're God's gift, son."
And there they sat, for almost an hour, watching the seals above and below the water, the dolphins, the seagulls and pelicans that flew past, the feeding frenzy that erupted when a school of fish ventured too close to the rocks - seals and dolphins slashing the water from below, while pelicans divebombed the surface from above - about 100 yards beyond their resting place.
When his father lowered himself to start paddling back, Jesse cried, "No, no, I want to stay!!"
"Time to leave them alone, son. Let them rest."
That morning, as they arrived back at the beach, had been Jesse's first ride on a surfboard alone. His father had helped him paddle into a wave, then rolled smoothly off as Jesse stood and pressed the long board's nose down and across the foaming face, a board so big compared to him that it would've taken a sledgehammer to knock him off it, and his mother had run along the beach cheering for joy as he brought the board all the way in, until its fin ground against the coarse sand. His face felt like it would split in two with his grin.
Now he watched the rented motorboat bob precariously about 50 yards outside the rocks, and through binoculars saw his mother and Ben lean over the side as Pastor Ed read from the Bible or something. His mother lowered the urn to the water and spilled it, a small dusty specter rising for an instant as the dark ashes swirled down into the sea. The noise of the boat's horn arrived a few seconds later as she straightened up and looked towards where Jesse stood. He waved. A small Marine honor guard stepped forward in place of his mother, and fired off five rounds, the smoke puffing away from the rifle barrels long before the snapping reports reached his ears.
Mike kept an iron grip on his shoulder. "You OK, Jes?"
"Ya." His father's back was strong as he paddled them out to the rocks, with faint scars visible where the shrapnel had cut him up. "Ya, I'm OK."
"We should get you back into bed, dude. You got a doctor's appointment this afternoon. You didn't sleep worth shit last night."
"I'm OK," Jesse said vaguely. He didn't want to sleep, he didn't much want to be awake. Everything had merged into a bullshit pseudoworld that he wandered through like a ghost. His dad splashed the water by their board, trying to get the dolphins to come closer. Mike was slowly pulling him to the car. Tina's brains were sprayed across the dining room wall. The online world knew how high he could shoot his come.
Mike looked worriedly at his mother as he buckled Jesse's seat belt. "Mom, this isn't right. Jesse's like left the building here. We gotta do something." The tone in Mike's voice was desperate, almost crying. Jesse looked into Mike's eyes, saw the tears forming, and he snapped back. He needed Mike to be there, to be with him, to be strong. He couldn't' hurt Mike, of all people not him - he might go away too.
He pulled Mike into an embrace and started crying - again. "I'm sorry," he spluttered. "I'm so sorry. Don't be mad or anything, please."
"Mad?! Dude," Mike was starting to choke up himself, "I can't be mad with you. We - we're buds and - and all, right?" He glanced at his mother as he said this, then back at Jesse with a tiny glint in his eyes. "Let me help you, Jes, please. I wanna help."
"I know," Jesse sniffled. "I wish I knew what to do. What to ask for."
Mike's mother leaned back, her eyes moist as well, and rubbed his knee. "It's so hard, Jesse, I know. I can't imagine how hard it must be right now. Just know that we're all here for you, all right? Whatever you need."
Jesse nodded, staring down at his hands. They seemed unnaturally far away from him. He raised them slowly as if for the first time, trying to get a measure of their size and mobility. "I think my head's still fucked up or something," he muttered to himself. "Messed up, I mean," he added hastily, looking at Mike's mother nervously.
She smiled. "Nothing I haven't heard before, Jesse. Your mother said you have another appointment at the hospital today; you should ask about how you're feeling. I'm sure the concussion isn't helping at all." She started the engine and backed out of the diagonal parking space that had been reserved for them right next to the overcrossing.
As they drove up the hill, Jesse took several deep breaths, leaning out the window a bit to let the cool morning air blow his hair. It cleared him. He looked at Mike, who he knew hadn't taken his eyes off him, and smiled. When Mike didn't smile back, he winked, and nudged his hand against Mike's. He glanced down at Jesse's hand and covered it with his own, and they went on in silence.
Dr. Stassi was pleased with Jesse's progress. After another scary session in the MRI machine, Jesse got a clean bill of health. "Your concussion looks like it's pretty well resolved. The reason you've been feeling so odd the last day or so is that your medication was getting too strong for you. We'll wean you off it now, with a pretty dramatic drop immediately. You'll feel a little woozy the rest of today, and by tomorrow you'll be back pretty much to normal."
Jesse nodded. "Good. I've been like all weird lately, I thought it was me and all."
"You've got good reason to feel out of your element, Jesse - some pretty major traumas have happened here." He paused. "We need for you to meet with a Social Services caseworker, because of the domestic violence issues. I delayed it as long as I could, but they need to speak with you. They've already met with your mother and brother."
Jesse frowned. "What about my tongue?" he asked, trying to deflect the discussion. "Can I eat regular stuff yet?"
Dr. Stassi smiled and nodded. "Just no glass chewing for a couple of weeks, OK?"
Jesse grinned and tried to think of another subject to bring up. But before he had time to articulate anything, a small rotund woman in a slightly scraggly brown dress suit had walked in to the examination room, her glasses dangling on a cord around her neck. "Hello, Jesse," she chimed up in a falsely friendly voice. "My name is Erika Vasquez, and I'll be talking with you today." Her hair was pulled into a frizzy bun, with a few strands escaping their prison to dangle out like dark wires. "May I be alone with Jesse for a little while?"
Dr. Stassi and the nurse dutifully left, and Ms. Vasquez made sure the door closed tightly behind them. She sat on the stool facing Jesse. "Well, we have a very sad situation here. I'm so sorry for your loss."
"Um, thanks."
"Now, Jesse," she said calmly, smoothing the front of her skirt, "do you know why I'm here?"
Jesse shrugged. "Probably cuz Dad shot himself and all." His voice was leaden.
"Partly. But also because there was a pretty significant domestic violence incident that led up to that." She paused. "And some fairly serious medical findings about you, that raise some important questions about both your parents."
"Both?" Jesse asked. He was trying his hardest now to focus on her through his fog.
Ms. Vasquez nodded grimly. "Both. We know what your father did - "
"I told everyone he didn't do that! Don't you people listen - "
"I know what you told people, and what your brother has been saying," Ms. Vasquez continued. "We understand how difficult this can be for you."
"My dad didn't molest me, how clear do you want me to be?"
Ms. Vasquez sighed and straightened up a bit. "Then you need to explain to me how you sustained the sort of traumatic injuries the doctors found when you arrived at the hospital."
Jesse felt his face reddening. "I - I got hit. He hit me."
"And the rectal trauma?" She was clinical now, emotionless.
Jesse gulped. "I - I just - you know - tried some stuff out. On myself, like. You know, like experimenting and stuff. Like kids do, right?"
"And what did you use?"
Jesse's mouth froze open. He had no idea what to say. He scrambled for an answer inside his head, but nothing came. He realized he was blinking, while Ms. Vasquez was sitting very calm, watching him keenly. "Broom." He finally blurted out. "Broom handle."
"You inserted a broom handle into yourself?"
"Yeah, y'know, just, just like, to see." He tried to shrug it off as no big deal. Ms. Vasquez continued her unwavering stare for another few seconds.
"All right, Jesse. We'll leave it there for now. But we WILL talk again, all right?" Her smile was forced, artificial. She stood, and Jesse instinctively stood as well. "No need," she waved him off, "I can find my way out."
Mike sat silent in the bedroom later that afternoon as Jesse recounted the conversation. "Dude, you have to tell her the truth. She'll keep at you and all, and it'll only make things worse for your mom."
Jesse sighed. "If I tell her, then she tells my mom. That'd kill her, especially now. I gotta keep it quiet, for a little while anyway." He looked up. "And I can't let anything bad happen to you - if it gets out, what'll your parents do?"
Mike frowned. "I dunno," he said quietly. "I don't think they'd be too happy, that's for sure. I mean I'm their stud surfer boy and all, pictures of me with the prom date and shit. I think my dad - " he hesitated, swallowed hard - "My dad would be like crushed." He took a deep breath. "And then there's the Voyeur thing."
Jesse nodded. It was all getting too complicated. He crawled across the floor and onto the bed next to Mike. "I just want to be here. With you. None of this other shit."
Mike put a hand in his hair and pulled Jesse against his chest. "I know."
The rest of the week seemed a blur. There was a large memorial reception, at which dozens of ex-Marines and work colleagues of his father's hugged him, slapped his back, commiserated with him, and offered him their help. There were evening meals at Mike's house, with both mothers working hard to keep things on as light a note as possible. There was Ben announcing that he was taking a year off from Berkeley and dropping out of ROTC to help Jesse's mom, and Jesse's mom's initially angry, but grateful, reaction. There were more trips to the doctor's, with the stitches finally coming out of the bridge of his nose,leaving only a slight red mark.
There was Mike, next to him in bed every night, as Jesse tried to fall asleep with only occasional success. They didn't make love. Mike seemed scared to make a first move, and Jesse was too preoccupied to have much interest. But they talked, and were close, and the easy intimacy they developed was far better than any orgasm could have been.
On Thursday, Jesse's mother announced that the house was ready for him to move back in. "It's all fixed and very nice," she assured him. "I'm sure you'll like it." They made plans for Jesse to stay beginning Friday night back at home.
Jesse was relieved, and sad. The thought of returning to normal, even in some small way, was comforting, but leaving Mike's bed was painful, and only got more so the more he thought of it. That night they lay together, naked, and just touched each other, crying in their turn, until they fell into a troubled sleep. They both knew they had an appointment the next day.
They slipped out Friday morning unnoticed on their bikes, cruising down to San O in the hot morning sun. On the whole ride, they were silent. Ernie's RV was in its usual place near the south end of the park. Its door opened as they approached, and Ernie emerged, shirtless, and smiling. "Hello Ron," he said to Jesse, "and Jamie."
"Hi," they answered, a bit confused. Another man was emerging from the RV - an older, balding guy in a too-loud aloha shirt and tinted glasses. This guy's a walking clich‚, Jesse thought.
"This is Denny Falcone, boys," Ernie smiled. "The head of Voyeur Video."
Mike blinked. "I - I thought - "
"Nope, I'm just a photographer or them," Ernie said cheerfully. Jesse realized Ernie was nervous. "Denny runs the shop."
Falcone extended a meaty hand. "Good to meet you boys," he said in a tobacco-thickened voice. "Great product we have in you two."
"Um, thanks," Jesse said as his hand disappeared into Falcone's. He looked over at Mike for guidance.
Falcone gripped Mike's hand in turn, then clapped his hands together. "Let's go inside." The boys numbly followed him in, with Ernie bringing up the rear to close the door.
"Juice? Coffee?" Falcone had a tray of beverages in front of him at the table. The boys shook their heads. "Well, Ronnie, I'm glad to see that you recovered from that skateboarding accident. You look just about good as new." Jesse glanced at Ernie, whose face was impassive. "You ought to know that there's a real big demand out there for more footage of you two together. You're a very hot item right now. We even have some calls from the mags, Freshmen and like that, asking for photo layouts. Now I'm not sure that's a good idea right now," he continued, noticing the boys stiffen, "but it shows how popular you are. I kind of like keeping you two a bit of a mystery - better for all of us." He smiled, extremely happy with himself.
Ernie stepped forward. "I have some ideas for the next shoot, if you boys are interested in doing it." He looked hard at them both. They hesitated, then nodded. They knew damn well they couldn't say no.
Falcone beamed. "Excellent. Why don't we meet at the Trestles lot Monday morning and we'll get it done."
"There?" Mike blurted out.
Falcone roared; Ernie smiled tolerantly. "Not quite," he assure them. "I have a couple of locations in mind. It'll be very safe, very private. We'll have one other person with us - a sound man. That'll make things even more realistic. About 9 OK with you two?"
The boys nodded. "Excellent. Now," Falcone leaned forward a bit, "this'll be a much more, um, intimate shoot than the one Ernie here got of you boys on the beach. Lots of close-ups and concentration on facial expressions. That requires some, well, grooming." He sat back. "Why don't you boys take off your shorts and let's have a look."
They froze. Jesse felt his face redden even further. He glanced at Ernie, who calmly nodded: do it. Jesse started fumbling with the cord of his boardshorts, barely noticing Mike doing the same next to him. The shorts dropped whisperingly to the floor.
Falcone leaned forward again, his eyes keenly inspecting them now. "Not bad, not bad," he said. He lifted Jesse's cock and ran fingers over his balls. "No hair, good. Your ass got any hair?"
Jesse blinked owlishly. How the hell did he know that? But Mike spoke up: "No." Jesse looked at him, and he smiled slightly. "I can vouch for that."
Falcone nodded and turned his attention to Mike, inspecting him as well. "Just a little shave here on your balls, Jamie, and you'll be fine. What about your ass?"
It was Jesse's turn. "Nope, he's all smooth there too."
"Good." Falcone sat back. "You gotta understand, boys, the smoother you are, the more it sells. That's the product, y'know? So keep yourselves nice and trimmed - not too much pubic hair or anything - and you'll be fine."
Mike looked vaguely nervous, for the first time. "So I have to - to like shave myself? Down there?"
Falcone grinned, a huge earsplitting grin that showed his yellowed teeth. "Have Jesse do it - he'll be real careful I bet. He like `em, after all."
"Well, what about, like, Nair or something?"
Falcone shook his head. "Burns the skin, son. Believe me, you don't want to do that."
Mike nodded, his eyes not focusing on anything. "OK."
Falcone clapped his hands. "Now, I just need one more thing." The boys glanced at each other again. "I know how well you shoot, but I want to be sure that none of your pubic hair goes out onto the shaft of your dicks when they're hard. So why don't you get boned up here and we'll have a look."
Ernie, as if anticipating their discomfort, stepped forward. "Why don't you sit here," he said as he ushered them to a small sofa toward the back of the RV, "and watch yourselves. That'll help. It's helped a lot of other guys, you know," he added with a knowing smile.
Jesse tripped over his boardshorts around his ankles and fell forward into Mike. They held each other, swaying a moment before recovering their balance, and looked at each other. The contact between their bodies felt warm, velvety, and safe. Jesse relaxed into an awkward embrace, and Mike started running his hand over Jesse's side instinctively. They both began to stir. That was the important thing, getting hard for this toad was nothing. They smiled at each other, sat down, and started touching each other wordlessly. Mike leaned over and kissed Jesse softly. As their tongues ran back and forth, they hardened quickly.
Falcone chuckled. "Kids. They can get it up in a second. Gotta love that. Now, let's see." He motioned for them to stand up, and took Mike's erection in his hand - not erotically, but as if inspecting a piece of fruit at the supermarket. Mike nonetheless let out a low hiss from the contact. "Yeah, just little trim here at the base - see that, son?" Mike nodded, swallowing. "Now you," as he grabbed Jesse's cock, "you look pretty good. Trim back your pubes on the sides here and you'll be great." He sat back down, wiping his hands on a towel. "Thanks boys, you can get dressed now."
He watched them retrieve their boardshorts and pull them up, expressionless. When they had, he clapped his hand again and his face lit up with that grin again. "It's gonna be great, boys," he said in a loud hale-fellow-well-met voice. "We'll all make some good money here," he leaned in closer, "and you two get to have a helluva good time!!" He winked and cackled wetly.
Jesse felt dirty like he hadn't in a long time over this whole thing. He felt his cheeks flush, and saw Mike's redden as well. Ernie moved to the door. "Thanks for coming down, boys," he said as he opened the door. "I'll see you Monday morning."
They rode back in silence deeper than the trip down. Without speaking, they both turned down the path to Trestles and set their bikes in the brush, walking along the creekbed trail to where the beach opened up in front of them. A long slow right break was curling over about 70 yards out, flowing smoothly towards shore. Several dozen people were out, jockeying for position on waves, chatting beyond the lineup, paddling about idly. They sat and watched for about twenty minutes. "You up for this?" Jesse finally asked.
"You - you and your mom need it, right? The money and all?"
"Ya, I think we will," Jesse said. He felt guilty saying it.
Mike smiled. "Then it's cool." He moved slightly closer. "And we really do get to have a good time."
Jesse blushed and started laughing. "Pervert."
Mike grinned back and shoved his shoulder. "You'd know."
Jesse stood abruptly. "Let's go."
"What's wrong?"
"I need," Jesse said, his eyes twinkling, "to perform a life-affirming act."
Mike grinned. "Thank God, I got it coming out my eyeballs."
"Not for long."
They rode laughing back to Mike's house in record time, and spent the rest of the day in bed. It was more than just sex, it was clinging to something that was going away, a chance passing them by unless they poured every ounce of their hearts and souls and sweat and come into it, and they kissed, sucked, fucked, shot, until they were exhausted.
Jesse lay on his stomach beneath Mike, still impaled, panting. His own latest orgasm coated his stomach and the damp sheet against his belly. He felt a drop of sweat fall from Mike's hair onto his shoulder. He took a deep breath, smelling all the smells of their lovemaking. It was so erotic he found himself hardening again, to his utter amazement. He moved his ass back along Mike's cock. "Oh, shit, Jes," he heard. "More?"
Jesse chuckled. "Can you?"
Mike's hand caressed Jesse's right hip and buttock. "One way to find out. But I want you to do it one more time to me, too."
"You got it," Jesse said, lifting himself up a little against Mike's body and starting to undulate his hips. Mike groaned, wrapped his arms around Jesse's waist, and they began yet again.
Later, when Jesse was in his turn lying spent atop Mike, his cock still driven deep inside, it was Mike's turn to move suggestively. Jesse groaned and fell away. "I can't," he mumbled. "All fucked out."
Mike somehow came up with a warm washcloth, which he used to wipe Jesse clean. They moved silently against each other and fell asleep.
Luckily, Ben found them before their mothers did. "Guys, get the hell up!! People are gonna be here!"
Mike and Jesse flew upright and scrambled about the room, flinging on clothes, covering the bed, straightening their hair, while Ben leaned in the doorway and laughed.
"I should've taken a picture of you two," he said softly. "I could've sold it on the Net for a billion I bet."
"Too late," said Jesse in a breezy voice. Only Mike noticed the sidelong look he gave as he said it.
Ben laughed again and left the room.
"Dude, you gotta watch that, he'll find it." Mike was laughing, but also worried.
Jesse shook his head. "Nah, I don't think so. I mean you gotta find that one site, it's like a needle in a haystack."
"Lot of people found the needle, it seems."
"They were specifically looking." Jesse didn't feel as confident as he let on, but he didn't know how else to answer. What if someone they knew did find the video? Would they tell? Would they turn them in to the cops or something? Jesse shook his head to clear such thoughts away: no sense worrying. He pulled a Rocky's shirt over his head and walked out to the kitchen. As soon as he had the sink full to start the dishes, Mike's mother bustled in the side door from the garage.
Jesse had thought they'd eat there, at Mike's house, but it appeared there were other plans. Mike's mother soon hustled them out into her SUV and they drove up the hill. As they approached his house, Jesse felt an odd knot grow in his stomach. It would all be different, even if it were the same. What would it look like?
In fact, his house looked exactly the same as always. The roses in front needed to have some spent blossoms cut (that was his job), but everything else was as immaculately trimmed as ever. His mother stood in the front door waiting for them, smiling broadly. Jesse felt his heart stir: he was home.
They had an incredible Mexican meal that night, that his mother prepared from scratch. There were chicken filled rellenos, soupy beans with bacon chunks, rice, chips and salsa, flan, and margaritas all around. Jesse had drunk them before with his family, but his weight loss made him especially susceptible to their effect. He soon was drowsy, smiling stupidly, and looking about the room. The glass on the front of the china cabinet had been replaced, everything inside appeared intact. "Dz'it still smell special inside the china thing?" he asked.
His mother smiled, a bit tightly, and nodded. "Everything is just like it was, Jesse. It's all fine now."
"'Cept Dad's not here," Jesse nodded. "And Tina." He frowned. "Dad never liked Tina. He said she shed too much. Pissed him off."
Jesse's mother wiped her mouth with her napkin. "Another relleno, honey?" she asked Ben, who was looking at Jesse very hard.
Jesse looked around the table. Everyone seemed to regard him as a bomb about to go off. He started laughing. "It's OK, I'm not gonna start crying or ranting or somethin'. Just weird being here after - after everything." He shrugged and sat back, eyes closed. He reached to his right and touched Mike's leg.
That stirred Mike to action. "I think you oughtta crash, dude," he said, rising quickly and taking Jesse under his arm. "C'mon."
Jesse smiled at him. "You gonna stay? I want you t' stay."
Jesse saw their mothers look at each other for a moment, then Jesse's mom nodded with a smile. "Of course, honey. I'll get the sleeping bag from the garage for Mike."
"We - ow!" Jesse's foot was suddenly under Mike's, and being ground down on hard.
"Sorry dude," Mike said, his eyes blazing at Jesse. "My bad. Let's get you sacked out, OK?"
Jesse nodded, realizing how close he had come. He felt suddenly tired. He barely remembered getting into his bed and its familiar feel and smells.
He woke up around 2, needing to piss. Mike was snoring below him, curled into the sleeping bag on the floor. Jesse stepped gingerly over him and padded down the hall to the bathroom. When he returned, he stood inside his closed door and looked at Mike's dark form. I don't deserve this, he thought. After what I did to Dad. After what I've done to him. What I did to everybody. His chest tightened and he slid down the door and sat, crying silently, for a long while, before he finally dropped off again.