Shilo

The first time I met Shilo, he was a skinny little kid in a wheelchair, sitting off to the side of our driveway watching the neighborhood boys play basketball. The hoop was on our garage. Mom and Dad rarely parked in the driveway, so we'd play game after game through the long, hot summer evenings. Shilo had heard the noise and come to see what was going on. At that time, he was all arms and legs, with mousy blond hair and the biggest brown eyes I'd ever seen, he looked half starved his eyes were so big.

I was a big, broad shouldered fifteen year old and my brother Lane, was almost as big at twelve. Most of the kids playing were between 12 and 15. We were a loud, carefree bunch with lots of slamming into each other and falling down as well as jumping and laughing: most of us had known each other since elementary school. Our house was the local hang out because Mom and Dad never minded the noise and rarely interfered with our activities. Mom was the local mom for all the neighborhood kids.

"Who's that?" Roger asked nodding to Shilo.

No one knew, but we knew that there were new people in the brown house up the street so maybe he came from there. Mick suggested asking him but the other guys seemed a bit wary. Scared of the chair, I figured. But the little kid looked so lonely and so forlorn that I couldn't just ignore him.

"Hey!" I said walking over to him. He looked up surprised and started to wheel the chair backwards. "Don't go. It's okay," I wiped my sweaty hand on my shorts and held it out to him, "I'm Christian Borren."

"Shilo James," he said taking my hand. I was surprised at how strong he was.

He told me that he had indeed just moved into the brown house up the street. He was out exploring, he said with a laugh. I was surprised his mom let him out unafraid of him getting hurt. Ours wasn't a bad neighborhood, but it wasn't the best in the city either, just an ordinary neighborhood in the city of Ogden. Over the next several months, I discovered that Shilo had almost no fear of anything.

Shilo was almost 12 and the oldest of 6 children, most of them adopted, including Shilo himself. His aunt had adopted him when he was just an infant. He was the only child that was handicapped. Cerebral palsy, he explained, a very low level case of it, but it had left him with very bad balance and semi paralysis in his lower body. He volunteered this information shyly, obviously pleased that someone wanted to talk to him.

After that Shilo showed up most evenings to cheer on whichever team he took a fancy to that night. He was eager and excited and could tear you a new one if the occasion warranted! Shilo never seemed to have favorites and soon he became our referee. Many afternoons he and I would play one on one. Even in a wheelchair he kept me hopping; he told me wheelchair basketball was a real sport and maybe some day it would get the recognition it deserved. My admiration for him grew each time we'd play. He was quick and smooth in movement without any wasted motions or gestures.

I had known forever that I was uninterested in girls except as friends, so I was always careful in my dealings with Shilo that I never did anything that could lay me open to any accusations of improper behavior. I liked the kid; he was funny and smart and played a mean game of basketball. We never became buddies, as in go to the movies and mall, but we were friends. I suppose the age difference had something to do with it, and being in two different schools our only interaction time was playing basketball or just hanging out at my house.

When winter came I saw Shilo a whole lot less. The snow made it hard for him to get around and he was so small he got cold easily. The basketball games became rare and our group spent more time inside playing Playstation or watching movies. Being only fifteen it never occurred to me to go invite Shilo over, I just figured if he wanted to join us he'd come over. My experience with handicapped people had been so rare that it never occurred to me that Shilo couldn't even get up our porch steps to ask if he could come in.

One evening in early March as the snow was starting to melt off, Lane came home and told me there was a moving van out front of Shilo's place. And sure enough by morning the house was empty and Shilo was gone. I hadn't realized how much I had been looking forward to seeing him and hanging out with him again until I saw the empty house. It was like someone had ripped a piece out of my heart and stomped on it. I didn't even have an address to write him. I ran home and hid in my room and cried.

Five years passed before I saw Shilo again. By then I had come out to my family and friends. My family was quite supportive and so were most of my friends. I was still Christian, who could play a wicked game of basketball, drank beer and watched action movies! I was still the grand master in Grand Theft Auto on the Playstation and could eat a whole pepperoni pizza by myself. In other words, I was still me. The guys that drifted off hadn't been around since elementary school like Roger, Mick, Kyle and Jorge. Roger was like "so f*** em" and I said NO FREAKIN' WAY! Which after a moment of embarrassed silence lead to the five of us leaning on each other to keep from falling down laughing!

We all got properly wasted at graduation and I ended up giving the football star a blowjob in the school bathroom while his girlfriend was out in the hallway screaming for him. I think I commented to him about what a bitch she was and he agreed but then added damn could she suck cock! When I sobered up the next day, I was SO VERY glad that I wouldn't be facing any of those people again for quite a while!

Most of my classmates scattered to colleges and universities outside of Ogden. Roger and Mick started at Weber State University here in town, Kyle went to Arizona State and Jorge had another year of high school. I had planned on starting WSU but at the last minute changed my mind. Instead I started work in Dad's electrical company and by the time I was 20, I was making pretty good money.

I met a guy shortly after I graduated high school, at a college dance I attended with Roger and Mick. We were together for a while but there was no real "magic" and we split up after about 6 months. I dated a girl who was one of Lane's friend's cousins for a couple months, just to see if I was missing anything. I guess the sex was okay and she was fun to be with but I really wanted the company of a male. I developed a crush on one of Lane's friends but he was so obviously straight I couldn't even work up a decent whack off fantasy involving him.

I had, by then, grown to a solid 6', broad shouldered with an athletic build. My hair had darkened and was nearly black. Several women and even a couple men had professed an undying love of my blue eyes and dimple, but something held me back. Sometimes in my dreams I would see a mischievous grin, but had no idea to whom it belonged.

Then one summer Saturday afternoon, not long after I turned 21, I was hurrying through the public library thinking about lunch and not paying attention to where I was going and barreled right into someone coming around the end of one of the stacks. A blond boy about 16 or 17; he went down hard on his butt. The book he was carrying flew out of his hand and smacked the floor with a thud. Even more embarrassing was the clatter of his crutches as they too hit the floor. I was mortified and humiliated beyond belief.

"I'm so sorry! Here let me help you! I'm so sorry!" I babbled over and over again, scrambling to get his crutches.

The boy burst out laughing. "It's okay, Christian. Kath says I need to pay more attention to where I am going!"

"CHRISTIAN!" I thought startled. I dropped the crutches, the noise sounding extraordinarily loud in the quiet library. I stared at the blond guy. He was a little shorter than me, about 5'9-5'10, and broad shouldered with thick, wavy blond hair and big brown eyes. He was wearing a t-shirt, jeans and a backpack. The t-shirt was stretched across his chest, nicely outlining his pecs and stomach. There was something familiar about him. I must have looked really confused because he burst out laughing again.

"Christian, its me, Shilo. I haven't changed that much have I?" He grinned at me.

"OH MY GOD!" I yelped in surprise. "Shilo!"

"Yeah," he answered with a grin. "Dang, you grew a lot in the last five years."

"Me!?" I laughed. "Look at you! You're not a kid anymore. And you're walkin! When did that happen?"

Shilo held out his hand and I pulled him up. He swayed and started to fall but I caught him. The boy had filled out in the intervening years and was now almost solid muscle. The feel of heat and muscle in my hands was making me far more aroused than I wanted to admit. Shilo steadied himself against the end of the stack. His face was slightly flushed and his eyes looked everywhere but at me.

"Fetchin hell," I thought. "Is he embarrassed about being touched by me?"

"Or holy crap, is Shilo attracted to me?"

The second thought followed the first one so rapidly, I had hardly processed former. Was it possible? Was that pretty boy gay as well?! I swallowed nervously and took a half step back from him. His eyes flickered and his smile seemed to sag. To cover my own confusion, I stooped down and picked up his crutches. When I stood up again, he was smiling as brightly as ever.

"Jeez, I'm sorry, Shilo." I said. "Mom says I'm a bull in a china shop!"

"It's okay, Christian," he said, taking the crutches from me.

I watched him slide his hands through the cuff shaped pieces of metal at the top of the crutches. I was fascinated, I had seen crutches like them but when Lane had broken his leg two years before he had used the kind of crutches that rested under your armpits. I remembered him complaining about how much they hurt his shoulders.

Shilo shifted his weight, so that the most of it rested on his legs and back same as me instead of on his arms as I would have expected. I retrieved his book: a hefty book on Renaissance art. Overriding his attempts to take it, I carried the book to the elevator. Shilo walked along beside me, the crutches sounding almost musical as they rattled and creaked with each step.

"I've been walking about a year now. My physical therapist, in my old school, felt that there was no reason I couldn't walk with the crutches. Apparently, I have enough control of my ass muscles." He blushed.

Where are you living?" Shilo asked shyly. "Still at your parents?"

"Yep," I answered. I yammered on, as the elevator dropped to the main floor, about home and my job. I held the door open and Shilo swung out. For a moment he was balanced in air, then he landed, swinging his crutches along side of him. I laughed and he grinned a grin full of mischief. God, he was adorable. Together, we walked the 20 feet or so to the checkout desk. I helped him get his card out of his backpack and then put both card and book in the pack.

After I checked out my book, we stood looking at each other in now-what-do-I-do embarrassment. Shilo laughed nervously and looked off to the right towards the floor to ceiling windows that looked out onto the park behind the library. And across the park, on the other side of the street, hidden behind the senior citizen center, my house; the basketball hoop still on the garage.

"So, umm, where are you living now? Do you need a ride home?" I asked unwilling to just let Shilo walk back out of my life. He smiled softly, his eyes never leaving the windows.

"The old house is still there." His voice was soft, contemplative. "I wonder how many people have lived there since we left?"

"About four families," I answered.

He shook his head. "Kath thought about trying to get the old place back. We liked it there," he said, turning to look at me. "But instead she bought a house up on Eccles, the poor side of Eccles." He snickered and I grinned.

"Poor Shilo, not living in a mansion," I teased him, referring to the block of Eccles where the houses of several prominent and well to do families had been built.

He shrugged. "It's a nice area and Caleb and I will attend Ogden High this year."

I remembered Shilo's next younger brother Caleb: a chubby boy about 2 years younger than Shilo. Caleb was black; he was as dark as Shilo was fair.

"Cool," I answered. "Lane is starting his senior year this year. Maybe you two will see each other."

Shilo nodded and silence settled over us again. I felt stupid standing there in the library lobby struggling to make conversation. Had we grown so far apart that we had nothing in common anymore? I was so glad to have him back in town and I couldn't even think of anything to say to keep him interested in me!

"Have you had lunch?" I blurted out, then blushed. "I mean, are you hungry? I was thinking of grabbing a bite before I ran into you."

"Literally, no less," he said with a grin. I grinned back. "Now that you mention it, yeah, I'm thinking food is a good thing."

"Cool," I said.

"Where?" Shilo asked.

"Burger King?"

"Is there still one? We discovered the one behind where the mall was, is closed. And that's so weird! I leave and the mall is there blocking the view, I return and it's just a vacant lot! I was like, are you sure we're back in Ogden, Kath?"

I laughed and we talked about the city's plans for the property as we walked out to my truck. Shilo oohed and ahhed over the shiny red Chevy 1500 Silverado. I unlocked the door and helped him into the truck, then stowed his crutches and backpack in the bed alongside my tools. I studied the back of his head as I walked around the truck. Almost as if he knew, he half turned and smiled at me. A tremor ran through me: his was the grin I saw in my dreams!

It wasn't far to Burger King and the ride was over a lot sooner than I wanted. As I drove, I pointed out to Shilo, the new apartment buildings downtown, and new police headquarters, as well as several other buildings built since he had moved. Shilo shook his head and commented that he felt like he had moved to a new town not back to the city he had lived in before. He chattered breathlessly about Lindquist field, the baseball stadium, as we passed it, laughing about the carved stone velociraptors that had lent their name to the team. He looked so dreamy that I offered to take him to a game, even though I'm not much of a baseball fan. It would be an evening of sun and yelling and Shilo. He blushed and accepted with a shy smile.

The Burger King parking lot was crowded. No surprise on summer afternoon. As I jockeyed my truck to wedge it between a minivan and a Dodge Durango, I muttered and cursed MAVs- Mormon Assault Vehicles to us unbelievers- and the people who drove them.

"Don't let Kath hear you," Shilo laughed. "She drives a minivan! Kinda have to with all us kids. There are two more you don't know, the twins Jade and Tanner. They are three."

"Jeez, I guess we have some serious catching up to do!" I laughed.

I climbed out of the truck and walked around the back to Shilo's door. He already had it opened and was sitting sideways waiting for me. Handing him his crutches, I was able to take a closer look at him: he was definitely not the skinny little kid I had known. In five years he had grown out as well as up; he was now broad shouldered with a solid trunk. The muscles in his arms bulged pleasantly as he slid out of the seat. He was not a body builder by any stretch but rather a young man who used his arm and trunk muscles more than the average guy. I had no doubt that if he didn't need the crutches that he could play a wicked game of basketball.

Shilo looked up at me shyly. His eyes were still huge but his face had filled out enough that he no longer looked starved. A shield shaped face with a straight nose and curving full-lipped mouth, I wanted nothing more than to kiss those lips. I looked away in frustration. I was going to have tell him I was gay and soon. I swallowed and looked back at him. There was a puzzled expression on his face and I wanted to kick myself for causing it.

"Come on," I said.

"I need my pack. It's got my wallet in it," Shilo said.

"Nah," I said. "I asked, I'll pay."

Shilo hesitated for a moment then shrugged and followed me into the restaurant. We ordered our food and found an open booth in the front corner. I gazed out at the traffic flying up and down the road, thinking that if things had been a minute or two different I'd have not met Shilo again. Maybe someone was looking out for me after all.

"So what's this about twins?" I asked.

"Jade and Tanner. Jade is a girl and Tanner is a boy. They are three," Shilo paused and stared at the burger in his hand.

"We thought for awhile Kath was going to marry their father," he continued looking up at me. "But no, he took off or she threw him out, I'm really not honestly sure which it was.. but he's gone." Shilo shook his head.

"You'll like the twins. They are angels. Jade is always running to get things for me and Tanner follows Caleb around until he has to lock himself in his room to escape the kid. Keva spoils them rotten," he grinned again.

Keva was 4 years younger than Shilo and, until the twins, the only biological child of Katherine James. Keva and Derek were only a couple months apart in age, although Derek had been adopted at age three. Keva's father had been Hispanic and Derek's mother had been Indian, originally from India. Listening to Shilo, I started to remember the things I had known about the kids. The last two kids were Mykell, whose mother had been Middle Eastern and Peter, a delicate Asian. Altogether the kids were a rainbow of color.

"The twins' father was Greek," Shilo said munching a fry. "Kath says we look like a meeting of the U.N. General Assembly each time we sit down at the dinner table!"

I laughed. I was looking forward to seeing Shilo's siblings again. Peter had been only four when they moved. I remembered him as a delicate little boy who liked to climb into people's laps and cuddle. I wondered if he had changed as much as Shilo.

"So, I guess, your aunt never got married?" I asked

Shilo shook his head. "Nope, she says she prefers it this way."

He shrugged and scowled at the table; I hurriedly steered the conversation onto safer topics. Conversation drifted back and forth as we got reacquainted with each other and caught up on what had happened in our lives in the last five years. Shilo talked about his family and about his old school and the couple friends he had had there. He told me that he had taken up gymnastics and swimming as a form of therapy to strengthen his arms and back muscles.

Shyly he told that he had started painting and had received good grades in art. He liked trying to express his feelings in a visual media.

"I want to reach out and grab people by the shirt front and pull them into the picture." He mused. He looked up and grinned again.

Time flew by so quickly and before either one of us was really ready to part it was 5 pm. Shilo was surprised and worried that his aunt might be panicky that he wasn't home yet. I lent him my cell to call his aunt and tell her he was all right and would be home soon. We refilled our sodas and I carried them out to the truck.

"I didn't want to move," Shilo said after climbing into his seat and taking his drink from me. "But you know, kids have no choice."

He paused and stared at the top of his drink. I shifted from one foot to the other and leaned against the open door. Shilo looked back up at me. He smiled shyly.

"I wanted to tell you," he said softly.

"So, why didn't you?"

"Because I wasn't sure if you'd care," Shilo looked down again. "I hadn't seen you for most of the winter. And I thought 'well I'm just some bratty kid he plays basketball with sometimes.'"

I reached out and touched his cheek lightly. He started and looked at me. His eyes were huge and he looked almost frightened. I shivered.

"Shilo," I stopped. "Shilo, I went home and cried when I saw you'd moved. I hadn't until then realized how much I missed you."

"Really!" Shilo threw his arms around me spilling his coke down my back. I wrapped my arms around him in pure reflex. I was sure he was coming right out of the truck. The cold soda was only marginally more shocking than the feel of Shilo against my body.

Somehow I managed not to throw him down in the parking lot and ravage him. I brushed away his apologies about the soda and laughed at his enthusiastic hug. But the feel of his body was burned onto my arms in a memory I would never forget!

The rest of the summer passed rather quickly as Shilo and I picked up where we left off. We went to the movies, the mall and swimming. The time at the pool was both heaven and hell: I was in an agony of desire for the boy. Watching his strong arms churn through the water made my stomach knot. I wanted those arms around me, holding me. I wanted to caress the muscles in his stomach and feel his light chest hair on my face. The best times were wrestling and dunking each other. Those were times when I had him in my arms where I wanted him.

I made it a habit to towel dry and brush his hair, as both were awkward to do when balancing on crutches. Shilo loved his hair brushed and would lean back against me, purring like a contented cat. Having him there sent sparks of pleasure through my body; it took all of my self-control to keep from wrapping my arms around him.

Shilo spent almost as much time at our house as he did at his own home. Lane and I built a ramp for him to get up the stairs onto the porch. We would return there to watch TV or play Playstation after the movies or the pool. Often I would find him there when I got home from work. I was always pleased to see him, smiling and laughing. But the ache in me was growing worse, the occasional grope in the pool or touch in passing was no longer satisfying my desire to hold him. Except for hugging me that first day, Shilo never again gave me any sign that he was attracted to me. The ache in my heart got bigger and bigger.

My family was picking up on my conflict as well. I would look up and see Lane studying me. He would roll his eyes and shake his head at me. Several times, when I'd get back from taking Shilo home, Mom would start to say something to me but stop and walk away.

When school started I saw a lot less of Shilo, but still he was over on the weekends and a couple nights a week. However, by the first part of October, Shilo was coming over less and less. And when he did come over he stayed only a short while, claiming he had homework.

Things came to a head on a lazy Saturday morning in the middle of October. I had called Shilo to see what we were doing that day. He told me he was busy. I tried to make plans for another day but he wouldn't commit himself.

"I'll think about it," he said before hanging up.

I dropped into a chair at the table, my mind whirling. What had I done? Why was he mad at me? Had someone told him I was gay and he didn't want anything to do with me because of it? I stared out the front kitchen window to the park across the street. Shilo! What did I do?

"So what are your plans for today?" Mom asked, sitting down at the table.

"I don't know," I said looking out the window. Leaves were falling off the trees, floating lazily to the ground. I felt as dislocated myself, like I was falling over and over not knowing where I'd land.

"It's Shilo isn't it?" Mom asked.

I nodded but didn't answer. Mom sighed. "Why don't you tell him, Christian?"

"I can't. I want to stay his friend. I mean.. jeez.." I looked at the table then back up at Mom. "You know how people are, 'specially people in this area. Gay isn't really the "in" thing here!"

Mom leaned across the table and rapped her knuckles against my forehead. I jumped back in surprise nearly knocking my chair over. My balance regained, I ran my hand through my hair pushing my bangs off my forehead and out of my eyes.

"You know," Mom said thoughtfully. "For a guy that can wire a house blindfolded, you're dumber 'n a box of rocks. And blind as well."

"Whaa..?" I stammered. "I don't understand."

"Christian," Mom said softly. "Anyone with two eyes can see that Shilo is head over heels for you. You are all he sees when the two of you are together."

"HE IS?!" I stared at Mom.

"Yes he is and apparently YOU are the only one who can't see it. Even Roger thinks you need a swift kick in the butt!" Mom chuckled. "And if a straight guy like Roger can see it well.."

"But.. but.." I stopped. "What should I do, Mom?"

"Ask him out."

"But I have.. he says he's busy."

Mom rapped on my forehead again. "Hello! Did you say 'Hey, want to go to a movie?' or did you say 'Shilo, do you want to go out with me? ' Makes all the difference, you know."

I stared at Mom. I had never thought I'd be asking her for dating advice. Or be sitting at my kitchen table listening to her tell me how to ask a guy out. Not that she had a problem with my being gay, but she was my MOM! Mom made an impatient gesture toward the phone then got up from the table and walked into the living room. I heard her speak to Lane, but didn't hear his answer.

I held the phone in my hand and actually started dialing. It rang once before I hung up. Grabbing my truck keys off the counter, I sprinted out the side door. Shilo lived about 5 blocks away and I was pulling into his driveway in no time.

The house was a tall two story old rambler built in the early 20th century. The front porch stretched across the front of the house. There were chairs and a swing at one end and a grill at the other. In between was a maze of scattered toys, sneakers and a sleeping black lab, named Turtle. Why Turtle, I have never had the courage to ask, but Turtle she was. Turtle raised her head and thumped her tail on the porch, but declined getting up.

Peter, Shilo's next to youngest brother, opened the door. Peter was a delicate 9 year old of Asian descent. He had almost feminine features and warm brown eyes. He smiled brightly at me and then hugged me.

"Goody, you're here," he said, his voice muffled by my jersey. "Maybe Shilo won't be so grumpy any more. He is always happy with you."

"Poor Shilo," I said stroking the boy's hair. "We mustn't let him stay all grumpy, hmm?"

Peter giggled and danced back from me. He disappeared through the archway on the left into the living room. The sound of Toon Disney was coming from in there. I stopped in the arch. Peter and the twins were sprawled across the floor watching the TV. Mykell was sprawled in an armchair, half watching the TV and half reading. Derek, who was 13, was reading in a chair, tucked into a bay window, at the far end of the room. As always with the James household, there were toys and books scattered all over. One wall was nothing but bookshelves crammed with hundreds of books and knick-knacks.

"Hey! Who was at the door? Oh, hi Christian." Shilo's next youngest brother Caleb walked through the door next to Derek. The kitchen was back there and the downstairs bathroom.

Caleb was a lean, long bodied black kid. Very black with shining white teeth, Shilo would tease him about not needing a flashlight: just ask Caleb to smile. And smile was one thing Caleb did a lot of, like all the James', he always seemed happy.

"Glad to see you, one more whine outta Shilo and I'm gonna throw him out the back door." Caleb grinned. "He is in one heck of a foul mood today. I figured you two had had a fight or something. Broke up even." Caleb shrugged.

I stared at Caleb. "Am I the ONLY person who didn't know we were dating?" I asked with a squeak.

Caleb shrugged. "Well, it isn't as if I don't have eyes. I mean jeez.. you two." He grinned at me. Derek looked up and chuckled, he nodded his head, and then went back to his book.

I threw my hands up and turned sharply on my right heel and stalked out of the room back into the entryway. From the top of the stairs, I heard a giggle. I crossed the narrow entry and leaned over the polished banister. At the top of the stairs sat Keva, cross legged. Slender and pretty, she grinned at me, her long black hair streamed over her shoulders and her skin glowed a warm apricot hue.

"Men!" She said with a giggle, before leaping to her feet and bouncing up the last couple steps. I heard a door shut from the upstairs.

"Oh and you're an expert on us?" I yelled up after her, but there was no response. I shrugged and pushed off of the banister.

The door to Shilo's room was at the opposite end of the entry from the front door. There was a poster on it of an ostrich. I had often wondered about it but wasn't quite sure I wanted to know why it was on the door. From inside the room, I heard music. I knocked on the door.

"Shilo, its me Christian. May I come in?"

"Hang on! Just a minute!"

Several minutes passed and the door opened. Shilo leaned on the door watching me warily. My heart leaped into my mouth just looking at him, because all he had on was a pair of faded jeans. His blond hair flopped over his forehead.

"May I come in?" I repeated.

He eyed me, then nodded stepping backwards. "Had to get some pants on," he said simply.

Shilo's room was an oasis of calm in a hurricane zone. Everything put away and nothing on the floor to trip or topple a crutch. I closed the door behind me. Shilo backed cautiously back to his bed and sat down. The blankets were tangled and one pillow had fallen to the floor.

"Shilo," I started then stopped.

"Shilo, apparently my mother and Roger, among others, feel I need a swift kick in the butt."

"Yeah, you do." Shilo grinned, "But what specifically do all those folks think you need a kick for?"

"Because," I said softly staring into his eyes, "I haven't been able to see how in love with me you are."

Shilo sputtered and his eyes widened. In fear? I waved him quiet. His room was small and I crossed the distance to the bed in a couple strides. Squatting down I took his hand and turned it over. Lane's girlfriend, Eva, had taught me a little about palmistry. I never took it seriously but being a person who worked with my hands, I firmly believed there was a lot about a person written in his hands. Shilo's hands were broad and strong with long fingers, an artist's hands.

"Shilo." I looked into his eyes. "Shilo, I want you, I love you. I have wanted you ever since you moved away.. maybe even before then, I just didn't know it."

"Christian? Do you REALLY mean that?" He whispered.

I nodded. "This summer has been the closest thing to hell that I have loved every minute of, because it's been with you."

Shilo's eyes filled up with tears. He blinked them away and smiled. That smile, that one that had haunted my dreams so long. My free hand brushed his cheek and gently pulled his head closer. Our lips touched.

That kiss was the sweetest thing I had ever tasted. I tasted sugar and cinnamon, a combination of sweet and sharp that had me shivering in pleasure. My tongue explored every inch of his mouth before teasing his tongue into my mouth. My hand pressed harder on the back of his head, Shilo's hair was baby soft against my fingers.

Shilo broke off the kiss and looked at me. I smiled in return. Neither of us needed to talk, we had spent all summer talking and hadn't said as much as that one kiss did. Shilo slid back on the bed and I followed him smooth as if we had rehearsed it. I gathered him into my arms. How I had ached to have him there and at last I had him in my arms, where I could feel him, hold him and revel in the smoothness of his skin.

I kissed him again. I didn't care what anyone thought, this was Shilo and he was mine. And I was his. Many times we had joked about being soul mates, now we really were: one soul in two bodies. Together...

August 11, 2004

Okay what do you think? Want more? I'm not sure how much more I can write about Christian and Shilo. I do have a couple disconnected scenes in my head, maybe I'll try hooking them together and come up with one or two more chapters. This takes place in my own hometown, so please be patient with the local slang, but at least I didn't use double negatives! smacks forehead OY! : D