The Lovers in Rossford

[ChrisGibson]

Yes. https://www.mysouthshoreline.com/tickets/maps-stations Fenn got fed up and took the train to Chicago (Rossford is south of Miller if it is anywhere) and a couple of hours later, Dylan did the same thing with Ruthven, only ended up on the wrong one bound for South Bend and ended up in Beverly Shores (which is actually where Eden takes place.) Dylan is not wise yet, so even his Fenn like movements, are often botched. This is the opposite of the trip he took with Fenna few chapters ago where Fenn was in the lead and in charge. This time, unconsciously, Dylan had followed his father, but ended up in the total opposite direction. Meanwhile, a few other friends must remind themselves to stay away from the drama of being a sidekick and live their own lives. How many of us need to learn that lesson.

 

[ChrisGibson]

END OF CHAPTER


“Whaddo you mean we’re on our way to South Bend?”
“I don’t know how to make it any clearer,” the conductor
said. “You took the wrong train.”
“We took the only train coming,” Ruthven protested.
“Well, the only train coming at this time is the last train to
South Bend.”
“We could have looked at the sign,” Dylan said dismally.
“It was dark,” Ruthven said. “We weren’t really thinking.”
The conductor had shrugged and moved on. As the train
whizzed through the night, Dylan said, “South Bend is nice
and all, don’t get me wrong. But, I don’t really need to go
there.”
Ruthven nodded. He sat up a little and pulled his train
schedule from his back pocket.
“Next stop is Beverly Shores.”
“I don’t think that’s really much of a stop.”
“Well, then we’ll just keep going toward South Bend.”
“No… No,” said Dylan, “Beverly Shores it is.”
When they got off at the little stucco station in the middle
of nowhere, the conductor looked doubtful, but she said,
“Have a nice trip back.”
Once the train was gone, Ruthven squeezed Dylan’s hand.
“I have never, in my life, felt more in the boondocks than
right now.”
Across from the train tracks, on the other side of shrubbery
was a liquor store, and a car was just coming down the road.
Apparently in both directions, if they were willing to walk a bit,
there had to be something.
“I could call Todd,” Ruthven said. “He’d bitch, but he’d
come, and we’re only an hour or so from home, I’m guessing.”
Dylan shook his head. He sat down on the bench before
the platform.
“I like this. Just us here.”
Ruthven, his hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts, was
still looking up and down the tracks. He turned around, and his
face was gentle and sweet.
“We haven’t had just you and me,” Dylan said. “And that’s
what you wanted.”
“Right.”
Ruthven came and sat down beside him.
“How are you feeling?” Ruthven said now. “After
everything?”
“Honestly?”
“Well, certainly not dishonestly.”
“Happy.”
“Really?”
“Yup,” Dylan nodded.
He sighed.
“Cause I don’t have to pretend. I realized it all the way back
here. I wished I loved Lance Bishop. Cause he loves me. And
also because he’s easy. Like you said. And I’ve been spending
so much of my time romancing him. Fucking him. Trying to
make it what it can’t be.”
Ruthven sat with his knees wide apart, his hands on them,
and he said nothing.
“I’m scared of you,” Dylan said. “I mean, I’m scared of
what you would do with my feelings. Because of what
happened before. All that happened before. And what if it
doesn’t last? I keep thinking about that.
“But all I can do is think about how much I’m in love with
you.”



THE FIRST THING Chad North always said upon entering
Layla and Will’s was: “Am I interrupting anything?”
He was whistling and Layla said, “I guess something nice
happened to you, tonight?”
“You’re not interrupting a damn thing,” Will said, though
Chad noted Will moving away from Layla who said, “You were
interrupting me about to get laid. But…” she changed her
tone, “there is something serious I have to discuss with you.”
Will cleared his throat, and Chad understood that whatever
it was had to be big.
“It’s Bryant Babcock,” Layla said.
“What about him?”
“My mother was over there. And Paul,” Layla said. “He
tried to kill himself.”
“What?” Chad snorted, and then realized Layla was serious.
“I thought you should know.”
Eyes turning inward, brow wrinkling, Chad nodded.
“Can we do anything for you?” Will said, after a moment.
“I’m not the one who tried hari cari,” Chad said. “I… I
think I need to walk.”
Both of his friends nodded.
“I’ll see you guys,” Chad said, his voice distracted, and he
waved politely, and then headed out of the house.
“Do you think he’ll go to him,” Will said when Chad was
gone.
“No,” said Layla. “I don’t think he can. Not yet.”



“Mathan, I don’t really know where I am,” Meredith told him.
“Let me help you,” he said, slowly. “You are in Rossford,
Indiana. In the home of Lee Philips and Tom Mesda.”
Danasia, who had never cared for Meredith anyway, turned
away before she could snort, and at that moment Lee was
coming down the steps.
“You know what I meant, Mate.”
Mathan nodded, and he didn’t say anything else, because he
didn’t want Meredith to be embarrassed around his family.
The front door opened and, dismal, Tom entered.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Danasia demanded,
unsympathetically.
“Everything’s happened in the last few hours,” Tom said,
sitting down.
“Yes, Adele told me,” Lee said.
Lee did not sit down. He just looked at Tom and asked,
“Are you going to sit there like an idiot, or are you going to do
something?”
Meredith didn’t know what was going on, but she said,
“Maybe I should leave.”
“Maybe you should,” Mathan told her.
She nodded and said, “Goodbye everyone.”
Lee remembered to be civil, but Danasia made a noise. Ron
came down the hall as Meredith was leaving, and his wife said,
“I didn’t even know you were here.”
“Well, now I won’t be.”
“Are you going to meet with Noah?’
“No,” Ron told her with a theatrical smile. “I am not, and
thank you for constantly reminding me of that.”
“I just don’t want you doing him wrong.”
“On that note,” Ron said. “I’m leaving.”
“Ron?” Tom said.
“Yes?”
“Whaddo you know about my son being a model?”
“Not a fucking thing,” Ron said, and then he was gone.
“I should have said what do you know about my son being
a slut,” Tom concluded, dismally.
“Whatever your son is,” Lee said, “you need to get up off
of your ass and do something.”
“Like what?”
Lee frowned and then, to his daughter’s surprised, slapped
Tom across his head.
Tom stared at him with a half snarl that didn’t touch Lee at
all.
“Like get the fuck up, go to Todd’s and bring your child
home.”


The train ride was always long. He lived in the last half of the
Red Line, and it seemed to get longer and longer every night.
Could he be making this up, or could they possibly be adding
new stops? Could Chicago be getting bigger and bigger from
the inside?
As the El clicked through neighborhoods, passing the backs
of houses, clotheslines and porches, Brendan groaned at the
last stop before his. For some reason, the few blocks between
this and his stop seemed longer than the whole trip from the
Loop.
And then he was here, and it was cold tonight, and he went
down from the platform into the city. It was a lie that Chicago
never slept. It seemed to be sleeping now. He found himself
on Belmont, where there was life again, and for a brief
moment thought twice about heading into the quieter streets
where the rows of apartments could become beatific place to
be mugged.
He was always on alarm those last few blocks, and even
into the building, to check his mail in the small lobby, and then
head up the steps to his home. So when he opened the door
and a voice spoke out of the dark, he screamed.
The light went on, and Carol was saying: “Bren, you need
to chill the fuck out.”
Brendan let his briefcase drop to the hallway floor and put
his hand to his chest.
“Ah, you’re back,” Fenn said, and Brendan jumped up
again.
“Scared?” Fenn said. “Well, you should be. Your life is
falling apart. Mine is too, but that’s a different matter.”
“Now,” Carol said standing up and coming toward her
brother, “I am not one to tell you how to live your life, but you
need to get back to Rossford.”
“Is Kenny alright?”
“Kenny’s fine. Kenny’s probably more than fine,” said
Fenn. “And if you want to be fine with him, you need to pack
your shit and go. Right now.”




Lee and Tom could not have looked more different. Lee sat in
a chair, one eyebrow raised, but Tom stood in the living room,
his hands clasped. Todd came back down the stairs with a
note.
“Read this,” he told Tom, even though Tom could clearly
see the letter was addressed to Todd and not to him.
Tom’s eyes moved over it and then he turned to Lee and
said, “He’s left. Dylan is gone.”

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a great end to the chapter! Dylan is gone but hopefully he makes his way back to Rossford soon. As for Brendan I like him and Kenny together but I don't know if what they had is going to be saved by going to see Kenny. It might be too late. Great writing and I look forward to more soon!

 

[ChrisGibson]

TEN
THINGS TURN


Bryant Babcock was surprised by the phone ringing. Dan and
Keith had just left, and who else would be calling, he couldn’t
guess. Maybe Tina? Maybe best to simply pick up the phone.
He was surprised when it read ADELE DAVIS, and he said,
“Good morning?”
“I just called,” Adele said in the voice of something half
drowned, “to make sure you were alright and hadn’t done
anything stupid.”
“I’m fine, Adele.”
“Good,” she responded with a finality that implied a hang
up.
“Adele?” said Bryant.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you,” said Bryant.
Adele said, “You’re welcome.”
And then she hung up.
Bryant reflected that this should not have been totally
unexpected. Adele Lawden—well, Adele Davis, now—was a
good person. And then he remembered that he had things to
do, and got on the phone to make a call.
“Hello.”
“Nick?” Bryant said.
“Bryant?” said Nick Ferguson.
“Yes, I need you to come here.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“Are you at the office?”
“No, I’m at my house. I’ll expect you in an hour.”
“Is this work related?”
“It’s very work related,” Bryant said. “I’ll see you soon.
Good bye.”
He hung up and went to lay out his clothes and take a
shower.
Bryant was fully dressed when Nick arrived. Nick Ferguson,
not knowing what to say, said, “You look terrific.”
“Thank you.”
Bryant had on a wine dark shirt and a black silk tie. “I was
supposed to play organ this morning at Saint Barbara’s.”
“But now you aren’t?”
“No.”
“Who is?”
“It hardly matters,” Bryant said. He hadn’t thought of it.
He’d merely called in sick. Let them figure it out for once. Let
Tom do it.
“Well, that’s probably—” Rick began.
But Bryant said, “Take off your clothes.”
“What?”
Bryant looked at him.
“Take off your clothes,” he told him.
Rick stared at him, still deeply confused. But he began to
unbutton his shirt, and when it hung open, Bryant said, “And
now your pants. I want to see your underwear.”
Nick unbuttoned his trousers and let them down enough to
reveal snug, black briefs. Bryant could see his sex through
them. Bryant approached him. He put his hands in Nick’s
briefs, feeling him, stroking him, feeling him grow hard and
hearing him whimper. He moved his hands to caress Nick’s
hot ass, to stroke him and run his fingers over the hot crevice.
His hand went between Nick’s legs, sliding in and out of the
warmth, running over his balls while, slack jawed, Nick
Ferguson endured it.
“But that’s not what I asked you,” Bryant said, almost
conversationally. “I asked you to take off your clothes.”
He moved his hand away and now Nick undressed,
trembling, quickly, the jangling of his belt buckle pronounced
as it hit the floor.
“Against the door,” Bryant said. “I want you against the
door.”
Nick obeyed and Bryant went to his knees delicately,
stroking Nick’s balls. Running his hand over Nick’s penis, he
made it grow, and then he took it in his mouth. He took it
deep to his throat and made love to it while Nick groaned.
Bryant’s hands went up his chest, planted themselves on his
breasts and kneaded his nipples. They went down the small of
his back and cupped his buttocks. With his mouth, he held all
of Nick hostage, and under Bryant’s control, Nick buckled and
moaned.
“Turn around,” Bryant commanded, breathlessly. Nick did,
and Bryant planted his face in his ass, lapping, sucking,
touching him in secret places so that Nick’s eyes shut and his
hands went open in ecstasy. A string of sweet curses went out
of Nick’s mouth while Bryant ate him and, pulling his own
pants down Bryant started to stroke himself.
“Suck me,” Bryant told him, suddenly, standing up. And
now he pushed Nick’s head on his cock, fucking Nick’s mouth,
fucking it harder and harder and then he gasped and said,
“Now you stand up. We’re going to the living room. And I’m
going to fuck you.”
In the dining room, with Nick’s hands planted to the table
and Bryant’s hands planted to his, he fucked him harder and
harder. The sweat sealed their bodies together, part of him,
seeing Nick’s red face, hearing Nick’s groans, knew that Nick
had been dying for this.
“Are you about to come?” Nick gasped.
Bryant fucked him harder and suddenly, in a gasp, he felt
himself spilling. It took him in waves and he shuddered at the
ball aching orgasm, at the wonder of the semen shooting from
his stiff cock, deep into Nick.

For a while they both were like that, and then Bryant came
out of him, his dick still hard. To his surprise, Nick, big and
naked before him, exhausted and red faced, turned around and
immediately started sucking his dick. It felt so good, and then
they both went to the floor face to face.
At last Bryant said, “This is the way it has to be. I’m not
going to be powerless. If you start this, I’m going to finish it.”
He sat up.
“I don’t give a shit about your wife, or your kids or
anything. You come when I call. I control this. I’m not going
to be controlled. Alright?”
Still exhausted, breathing heavy, Nick, on his side, nodded.
“Whaddo you want to do now?” Bryant said.
“Go upstairs,” Nick told him, touching Bryant’s hip. “That
felt so good. I’ve been wanting that so long. Can we just go
upstairs and keep having sex?”
“You’d like to fuck me, wouldn’t you?” Bryant said.
“Yes.”
“You have condoms?”
“No.”
“Well, I do.”
“We didn’t use them just now.”
“I know where I’ve been,” Bryant said. “You don’t come
inside of me without a raincoat.”
Bryant thought of saying, “You don’t come inside of me at
all.”
Chad, Tom and Todd were the only men who had ever
spilled inside of him. And Paul. He’d made that trucker come
on his back. But who knew? He might change his mind.
Bryant stood up, dick still dangling, half hard. He held his
hand out to Nick Ferguson.
“Come on, Nicky,” he said. “Let’s go upstairs. Let’s fuck.”


Dylan Houghton Mesda felt on top of the world. Well, no, he
felt at peace with the world. Everything had been rocking
almost to the point of falling apart, and he had been so
stressed about the love he shouldn’t have but couldn’t help
feeling. He had been bent over double, sometimes, literally,
trying to love Lance more than he could and, finally, he was at
the end of all that, and Ruthven was at his side, and they were
on the train, waiting to come into Miller.
In Michigan City the train halted a while, and when the
conductor came down the aisle, she told them, “The train
coming in from Chicago is ahead of schedule. We have to
move over for them.”
A few moments later, Dylan could see a train whizzing in
the direction of South Bend, and then they were back on track
again and soon in Miller. When they disembarked, Dylan felt
Ruthven slip his hand inside of his own.
“Really?” Dylan said.
“Do you care?” Ruthven said, smoothly. “Cause I don’t.”
Dylan’s fingers tightened around Ruthven’s and he said, “I
don’t either.”
They were coming off the train, and Dylan was
concentrated firstly on Ruthven and secondly, on the tricky
steps and the door, when he heard the voice of his father say:
“Mr. Mesda, I hope you enjoyed your trip.”
Standing before him, expressionless, with Brendan Miller
on one side of him, and Carol Miller on the other, was Fenn
Houghton.
“I’m sure Todd will deal with you on his own time,” Fenn was
telling Ruthven. “For now Dylan sits by me, and I’m going to
deal with him. Right now.”
Dylan had, to put it mildly, a sinking feeling as he and Fenn
got into the middle of Todd’s Jeep and Ruthven sat beside
Todd. Carol and Brendan were in the back and it seemed to
make no difference at all to Fenn that he was about to dress his
son down before them.
“You’re grounded. simple as that,” Fenn said, casually.
“You go to school, you come home, you stay home until I say
you don’t, and God help you if you try to defy me. You’re
grounded for disrespecting your father. I found out about you
and Tom. You’re grounded for running off and taking a train
to God knows where—”
“Beverly Shores,” Ruthven and Dylan began.
“Beverly Shores?”
“We caught the wrong train and were on our way to South
Bend, so we just stayed there for the night.”
“Well, then considering east is pretty easy to tell from west,
also you’re grounded for being a pair of dumbasses,” Fenn
added.
He continued: “And you are grounded because I am not
going to have my son running around at the age of fifteen
hopping in and out of beds and doing whatever he wants to
like he’s a grown up. I know they say you can’t put the cat back
in the bag, but goddamnit, I’m going to try.”
“Dad, can I speak?”
Fenn looked at him.
“I respect everything you’re doing—”
“Well, that’s what matters,” Fenn said in a deadpan voice.
“But… can I get the chance to see Lance? To tell him it’s
over?”
“Firstly, it should never have started. Secondly, no.”
“Dad!”
Fenn clapped his hands. “Yes! That’s the voice I want to
hear! Now, go ahead and tell me I’m not fair.”
Dylan chose to keep his mouth closed.
“Well, wait, because here’s something that’ll make you
talk,” Fenn went on.
Dylan blinked at his father.
“You know that modeling gig? You’re not doing it.”
“No!” Dylan cried out.
“Yes,” Fenn said
“No, Dad. Really,” Dylan looked at him desperately. This
was Fenn. Fenn understood everything. Fenn accepted
everything. “I was going to be good at this. This was going to
be my thing. I was going to make money at it.”
“With Logan at the head of it.”
“Logan introduced me to it, but he’s not at the head of it.”
“Logan and Casey Williams and who knows who else.”
“It’s not porn. It modeling.” Dylan said.
“Modeling for a gay magazine allied with porn. My fifteen
year old half dressed, then not dressed and then being asked to
do all sorts of things.”
“Sorts of things like what?” Dylan fired.
“Like getting your dick sucked, Dylan!” Fenn said, when they
were back on Versailles Street.” Like being asked to have sex
with your director, like escorting, Dylan. I’m not stupid. I’m
not far from that world.”
“And you think I would do that?” Dylan said.
Fenn looked at him.
“Dylan, you haven’t given me anything to say you
wouldn’t.”
Dylan's face contorted, but Fenn went on.
“I love you, and you are good and sweet. But I had to deal
with the fact that you were sleeping with Lance at age fifteen
and now I hear that you’ve been fooling around with all sorts
of men since you were thirteen. You are a danger to yourself,
and you’re behaving stupidly. I believe if someone threw a
check at you, you're the type of person who’d go out and make
a porno, or escort, or pimp yourself.”
“No, I wouldn’t!” Dylan shouted. “How could you say that
about me?”
“How could I not?” Fenn said, hopelessly.
“Now,” Fenn continued, “I can’t make you something
you’re not, but I’m not going to make it easy for you to keep
on being what you are. You stay in this room. I’m not Tom.
I’m not going to have a fighting match with you and let you
run off. My word is law, and it is laid down. And I am
finished.”
Dylan looked red faced and his mouth moved around.
“What?” Fenn said.
Dylan took his hands through his hair.
“Alright, alright. So you know. So what do you think is
going to happen? You think I’m not going to have sex for the
next three years? You think I’m just going to sit in my room
and read the Bible or something?”
Fenn said nothing.
“You think I’m not going to fight you on this?” Dylan said,
a new fierceness in his voice.
Fenn raised an eyebrow and came closer to Dylan.
“I think,” Fenn said, “that you got your father’s looks but
my brain, and I think we’re going to fight a lot. But I also think
that you will have the sense to pick your battles carefully. And
this moment, right now, is not one where you want to fight
me.”
Dylan looked as if he were, indeed, choosing if he wanted
to fight or not, and then he nodded.
“When can I go out again?”
“I don’t know.”
“I love Ruthven. You know that right?”
“We’ll have this discussion later,” Fenn said. “Right now
you’re being punished.”

Dylan went to go sit down on the bed because he had
always known that Fenn was not to be crossed. Nothing had
really changed. Fenn had always given him a long leash. Look
what he’d done with it. And now, here he was and Fenn’s word
was law. It always had been.

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a very well done portion! I am glad Bryant seems to not be thinking of suicide again. I am also glad that Fenn laid down some discipline on Dylan. He was starting to get out of control and who knows where he would have ended up if his behaviour had continued. Great writing and I look forward to more soon! I hope you are having a good night!

 

[ChrisGibson]

It seems like Bryant laid a little discipline down too! Who knows how he'll feel at the end of the day, but for now he's found something to get him out of that funk even if the something is Rick Ferguson. Meanwhile Fenn has laid down the law and all gloves are off, so we'll see what his house looks like tomorrow night.

 

[ChrisGibson]

THINGS TURN
PART TWO









“What part of he’s fifteen years old doesn’t ring in your head?”
Todd asked, sitting down at the kitchen table before his
nephew.
“I know how old he is,” Ruthven said. “Why do you think I
had such a hard time with it? It’s all that goes through my
head.”
Todd shook his head.
“I don’t even know what to say.”
Fenn was coming down the steps, and both Meradans
straightened, expecting something to happen, but he seemed
serene enough. He looked at Ruthven, but the look implied
nothing, and then he went into the living room.
“Todd,” Ruthven began.
When Todd waited for him to say something, Ruthven just
shook his head.
“I don’t know. Just… I’ve felt that way about Dylan since
we were both little kids and well, it got physical when I was still
a kid.”
“That doesn’t make it sound any better.”
“The point is we’re really in love with each other. No,”
Ruthven said, hitting the table. “We love each other. We get
each other. He’s a part of me.”
“You are eighteen, and he is fifteen.”
“So what?” Ruthven said. “So what?”

Todd got up and went into the living room. Fenn was
sitting on the couch. He looked up and said, “I told you. I told
you from the beginning. Him and Ruthven.”
“So…” Todd approached Fenn. “You don’t want to stop
it?”
“I don’t think we can stop it,” Fenn said. “We can curb it,
and I think we should. Just like I can’t stop Dylan, but I can
stop him from killing himself.”
Fenn was quiet for a bit and then he said, “Dylan stood
there in front of me and he told that he hoped I wasn’t trying
to stop him from ever having sex again. I had to be as honest
with him as possible. I’m not trying to get him to not sleep
with Ruthven. They’ve done it. They probably did it last night
and if they can they’ll find a way to do it tonight. I’m just trying
to keep Dylan from ending up dead on a corner or being a paid
escort.”


I feel like I’ve seen too much and been part of too much for
one day,” Carol told Brendan as they sat in the living room of
Fenn’s house.
“Well, I’ve still got the key to the apartment, so we might as
well go downstairs and see Kenny. You can make some
breakfast or… Something.”
“It’s pretty much all about something,” Carol confessed.
“My life is one big ass something.”
Brendan sighed heavily, pushed himself up and Carol
followed him out of the house saying, “Should we tell them
we’re gone?”
“No,” Brendan said. “They’ve got shit of their own.”
They walked along the side of the house and Brendan took
out his key and opened the door.
The sounds were loud and aggressive and only unknown to
Brendan because they were so far from his expectations, but
Carol’s ears pricked up and she caught her brother’s sleeve.
“Don’t go in there,” she said.
Brendan shook his sister off and went down the steps
descending to the living room, and there was Chad North
naked, his head back in ecstasy, while Kenny sat nude on the
sofa sucking his dick.
Chad’s eyes flew open and Kenny rose up slowly with a
look that was more annoyance than guilt.
“Brendan,” he said.
Carol, at the top of the stairs, just visible said, “I think I’ll
go now.”
Chad looked at Kenny, and then bent for the floor, pulled
on his Jockeys in one swift move and said, “I think I will too.”


“Chad North?”
“You say it like there’s something especially horrible about
Chad North,” Kenny told him.
“It’s not that it’s Chad, it’s that it’s anyone,” Brendan said.
“You left me for Chicago.”
“Not the same.”
“No, worse, because you can’t fuck the Windy City and it
can’t fuck you back,” Kenny said. “You don’t call, you don’t
check in. You’re not around when I do. I’ve been gone for
weeks, and you don’t give a shit. And then you show up and
don’t even knock.”
“You’re not going to apologize to me?” Brendan said.
“Apologize for what?” Kenny said. “Because I know you
can’t think that what me and Chad are doing is cheating on
you.”
“If you have a boyfriend,” Brendan said, “and you start
screwing someone else without telling him, then yes, it is
cheating.”
“Yes,” Kenny said, “if I have a boyfriend.”
“What are you saying?” Brendan looked at him.
“What am I saying?” Kenny repeated. “I’m saying a
relationship isn’t just I claim you. I own you, now you’re mine
and no one else’s forever. A relationship is—”
“This is bullshit.”
“Fucking listen to me,” Kenny said a little more frantically.
“A relationship is you fucking being there. And you’re not
there. What the fuck else did you expect me to do?”
Brendan didn’t answer. He only said, “So we’re done?”
“You’ve made us done, Bren!” Kenny shouted, turning to
the refrigerator and pulling out the milk.
“Shit, Bren! I haven’t felt anything like a man in months. I
just pine away in that apartment and take bullshit jobs while
you have this interesting life. And you come home when you
feel like it—”
“It’s not when I feel like it! I’m a lawyer, Kenny. From
Valpo. With something to prove. The law has to be my
priority.”
“I thought I was your priority.” Kenny said. “I was
supposed to be your priority. And until I am, I don’t have
anything to say to you.”
Brendan looked like he was trying to stop himself from
saying something angry. He took a breath and then said,
“Alright, Ken. What, do you want me to do? To prove that
you’re a priority.”
“Leave Chicago and come to a law office around here.”
“I can’t do that,” Bren said.
Kenny shrugged and put the milk back in the fridge.
“Then get the fuck out.”



When Laurel showed up it was with a tall gawky boy that
reminded Dylan of Will Klasko, even though they didn’t really
look that much alike. She sat down on the bed and immediately
asked how long the punishment was.
“It’s pretty indefinite,” Dylan shrugged. “But sooner or
later my sin was going to find me out.”
He tried to grin.
“When you look at all the stupid shit I’ve done, it’s amazing
all I got was grounded. And of course I’ve got to face my dad
tonight. Tom. I’m not looking forward to that.”
“What all happened?”
“We really fought, and… I’m not used to that.” He didn’t
want to say that Tom had slapped him. That sounded too
victimy, and the truth was he would have slapped himself too.
“I did not help matters by running away. But enough about
me,” Dylan gestured to the boy beside Laurel.
“This is Alex,” Laurel said.
“The protector of my cousin and possible one day cousin-in-
law,” Dylan held out a hand.
Alex shook it and said, “That’s too much to predict.”
Dylan looked at him knowingly and said, “Laurel tells me
you’ve got the Gift.”
“Laurel told me everyone in her family had the Gift,” Alex
countered. “You included.”
“Can you guess what I’m about to do?” Dylan asked him.
“No,” said Alex. “But I can guess your gift.”
Dylan waited.
“Charm,” Alex said. “You’ve got good looks, but you’ve
also got charm and you try to use it on men. It almost always
works. You don’t trust other boys, and that’s why you don’t
have any for friends. Just the ones you have sex with. That
charm is your gift, but if you don’t watch out it’s going to kill
you.”
Dylan sat up straighter and his face turned red. Laurel was
looking between both of them, afraid of some danger. But
Dylan looked embarrassed now and he said, “That’s about the
shape of it.”
“You don’t have to do that with me, though,” Alex said.
“In fact you can’t do it to me. I don’t need to be seduced to be
a friend.”


“Carol, where were you going?”
She was surprised because she had been walking to her car
when the front door opened and there was Fenn.
“I was just going to my parents.”
“Well, you could. Or you could hang out a little longer.”
“My brother might need me. He’s still downstairs.”
“All the better for you to stay right here,” Fenn told her.
“Never think that just because everything in this house is
falling apart there’s no room for courtesy.”
Carol nodded and Fenn said, “You might think I don’t get
it but I do. From what we talked about last night, the last thing
you need to do is be stuck in your mother and father’s house.”
When Tom arrived with Lee, he was followed by Danasia and
Mathan.
“You need an entourage?” Fenn addressed his ex, sitting on
the old sofa.
“We just came to see you,” Danasia said. She cocked her
head and looked at Carol. “I’ve seen you before.”
“She’s Brendan Miller’s sister,” Mathan said.
“That’s right,” Carol smiled. “And you’re with Dena’s
stepsister. Right? We don’t really know each other. Carol.”
“I know,” Mathan told her. “And I’m Mathan.”
“Mathan is my cousin,” Fenn explained. “Lee’s nephew.”
“And speaking of relations,” Tom said, putting his hands
together grimly, “where is my son?”
“Upstairs,” Fenn told him. He gave a slight gesture to Tom
and called him into the dining room.
“Yes?” Tom replied upon entering.
“I’ve grounded him, and if it’s alright with you, I want him
grounded here.”
Tom looked at Fenn.
“It just seems like moving him from house to house is the
opposite of grounding.”
“And you think you can look after him better.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you think it.”
“What I think, Tom, is that Dylan is afraid to ever put a toe
out of line around me. He’s more afraid of me than he is of
you.”
Tom shrugged. “Well, I can’t argue that. Hell, I’m afraid of
you. Alright, he stays here. Plus, I’ve lost parental points. I
totally lost it.”
“He’s your son.”
“He’s yours too.”
“Not my blood. Not my genes. Doesn’t look like me.”
“You think that makes a difference?”
“I think you see yourself every time you see him, because
he is you. He’s me too, but not in looks. I don’t know if that
makes a difference.”
“I wish you had told me when you first found out.”
“All I knew about was Lance Bishop.”
“Still, Fenn.”
Fenn nodded, but he said, “As much as my parents loathed
each other, when I told one a thing they always told the other.
It was like talking in stereo and I never liked that. I swore I’d
never do it to my children if I had them. Dylan didn’t want
either one of us to know about Lance. But I found out by
accident. I thought it was his secret to tell. Not mine.”
“But, Fenn—”
“Go see your son,” Fenn told him.
Tom realized that pursuing this was useless. He nodded,
and turned to go up the stairs. Fenn turned around and came
back to the living room where the first person who came up to
him was Carol Miller. She dragged him back into the dining
room and said, “Did you know that this Meredith bitch just
dropped Mathan for a convict?”
Fenn frowned. “I think I knew something like that.
Apparently I’m not involved enough in my family’s business.”
“Well, never mind that,” Carol brushed past Fenn’s guilt.
“The real question is: Am I too old for Mathan?”
“Yes,” Fenn said.
Carol blinked, and then she pushed up her breasts.
“I think, Mr. Houghton, that what I’m going to do is
pretend you didn’t say that, and make a stab for that very fine,
very tall, very black man.”


Kenneth McGrath had rolled out the canvas and taken up his
paints. Right now he was doing a pencil sketch and talking on
the speaker phone.
“You don’t even have to worry about that,” he said to
Chad.
“I thought you were in trouble or something,” Chad said.
“You have to admit, what we’ve got going on here is pretty
precarious.”
“No it isn’t,” Kenny disagreed. “At least not anymore. I like
being with you. I like us being together, and we work really
well. I haven’t felt like this in a long time.”
There was so much silence, Kenny was about to check the
phone for reception, and then Chad said:
“Me neither. You know, this is the first time I’ve felt sane.
If that makes any sense.”
“I’ve seen all the mess you’ve been involved in for the last
ten years, so yes, “ Kenny said, drawing a curve, “it makes
sense.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Chad laughed.
“Gladly. Tonight. All night if you want.”
“So, we’re still on?” Chad said.
“Yeah, Chad,” Kenny told him. “We’re definitely on.”

 

[CharmedFan28]

Sorry I am so late posting, went out today and only got back just now. That was a great portion! I am glad Fenn is sticking to grounding Dylan. Dylan needs some discipline. I think Kenny was right to leave Brendan. Their relationship had been non existent for some time. I like Brendan still but I think Chad is better for Kenny at least at the moment. Excellent writing and I look forward to more soon!

 

[ChrisGibson]

No responses to responses last night because they came very late and i had to be up very early, but I did read them and appreciated them.

WEEKEND PORTION
ONE




“I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS,” Brendan was saying.
Cup of tea in hand, Dena Affren walked back into the
living room, rounded the coffee table and put the cup before
Brendan as she sat down.
“You can repeat that phrase as many times as you want,”
she told him, “and it won’t change a thing.”
“I don’t see why you can’t believe it,” Milo told him.
Brendan looked at him.
“Bren, how many times have you left Kenny in the lurch,
and how many times has he been there, waiting for you?”
“Milo,” Dena began in a low voice.
“No,” Milo shook his head. “Now you’re gonna hear this,
Bren. You’re my friend, but Kenny’s by best friend, and he
deserves to be happy. You haven’t been making him happy.
He’s been suffering in a way I never want to see him suffer,
and if this thing with Chad helps him, well then I say good.”
“What thing with Chad, Dad?”
They looked up and Rob was standing in the living room.
“The grown up thing you’re not supposed to be hearing
about, Boyo,” Milo said. “Now go find your cousin Meredith
and have her take you to Great-Grandma’s.”
“You always don’t tell me stuff,” Rob said, walking away.
“It’s because we love you,” Dena murmured to her
departing child, and then Milo said, “I don’t know if this thing
with Chad’ll last, Bren, but one thing I think it will do is make
you take Kenny a little more seriously.”


“Grandma, can I play with the record player?”
“Kid you can do whatever you want,” Barb Affren said.
As Rob ran off, Barb said, “He can do whatever he wants
because he always drops the great and just calls me grandma.
Makes me feel seventy again.
“And,” she added, while her granddaughter chuckled, “he
likes the record player. Everything old is new again. Including
me.”
“You’re not old, Grandma,” Meredith said.
Barb looked at her.
“Either you’re stupid, or you think I am. Pick one.”
Barb sighed, “When you were Rob’s age, there was no
everything is old is new again. Everything was just old. I was
so concerned about getting old. Now, I’m totally there, and I
realize it doesn’t matter.
“Your father came by this morning. And your stepmother.
I think they wanted to check to see if I hadn’t lost my marbles
yet.”
“They just worry about you living here alone.”
“I’ve been living here along for well over a decade. Where
do they want to put me?”
“Nell keeps on thinking it would be nice for you to live
with them.”
“I guess they think it’s better than a home.”
“Well, it is, Grandma.”
“Mere, you don’t get it. But one day you will. Any home
that isn’t your own is a place you don’t want to be. Not after
you’re used to running your own place. You’re a very smart
girl, Meredith. Most of the time. But not all of the time.
“Like with Mathan.”
Meredith raised her eyebrows.
“Did you think it wouldn’t get back to me? Rossford’s a
small town.”
“It’s not that small.”
“I’m a nosey woman. And I still go to Mass. That new
priest isn’t much to speak of, but the gossip train’s as good as
ever. I thought you and I were so much alike—except I was
prettier when I was your age—”
“What?”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Barb said. “You’re very pretty,
Merry. But… me… Oh, man. I was the cat’s pajamas. And
titties too!” Barb cackled with remembering. “Titties for days.
“But back to you: what the hell was going through your
head to quit Mathan? I wanted a black great-grandbaby. I
wanted a Houghton great-grandbaby I just knew it was going
to happen.”
“Well, nothing was going to happen, Grandma. It was all
getting really old. Plus… I met someone else.”
“Yes,” Barb said, turning her a basilisk stare. “I heard…
“A fucking criminal!”



The two of them looked at each other nervously.
“I should probably talk first,” Tom said.
Dylan nodded.
“Well…” he began.
“I’m sorry, Dad!” Dylan spat out. “I’m so sorry for
everything, and I was out of line. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sorry for hitting you,” Tom said, coming to the bed.
“I’m sorry for losing my temper and everything.”
Dylan bowed his head, ashamed to look at his father, and
kept nodding.
“I was just so scared,” Tom said. “And confused. I still am.
And angry, Dylan.”
“I know.”
“Your father thinks you should stay here for a while,” Tom
said. “He thinks that it’s no point in grounding you and
moving you from house to house.”
Dylan nodded.
“He’s probably right,” Tom reflected. “I would get soft or
something. Fenn’s not going to soften up.”
“No,” Dylan agreed. “He won’t.”
“I… I just want you to talk to me. I’m just… Dylan, I’m
still upset. And afraid. You know we both are.”
“I’m always careful,” Dylan said.
“You shouldn’t be being careful. You shouldn’t be being
anything. Except a normal kid.”
“Normal kids do what I do,” Dylan said. “They’re not just
playing stickball or whatever. Kids are… having babies and
using drugs and doing all sorts of stuff, and I’m not doing
either one of those things.”
“But, Dylan… You were… Is it true you were going out
and being with different people?”
Dylan snorted and then covered his mouth.
“I didn’t mean it,” Dylan said. “It’s just… your
euphemisms, Dad.”
“I would prefer for them to be euphemisms.”
“Me too,” Dylan agreed.
“Look, Dad. I don’t know what you think, but it was never
tons of people. Just, it’s been more than one.”
“You’re fifteen, that’s one too many. Two too many.”
“Yes,” Dylan said, patiently, “I’m sure that you’re right. But
it’s in the past. I was curious. And sometimes I was angry. And
sometimes I was in love, and I am in love and I am committed
to one person, so I’m not going to be doing any of that stuff
anymore. I promise.”
“Well…” Tom said, at a loss. “You still have to be
grounded.”
“Yes, I figured that.”
“And we still have to figure out what happens in the
future.”
“I know.”
“Dylan, we love you,” Tom touched his hand. “And we’re
just trying to do right by you. We just… you need boundaries.
Children—and you’re not a child, you’re a young adult. I get
that. But people need boundaries. My parents gave me lots of
boundaries, and I always felt really loved, but we haven’t really
put that many on you.”
“So this is like… extra, extra love?”
“Yes,” Tom said with a smile, and when Dylan realized that
his sarcasm had gone completely over his father’s head, he
understood why Fenn had insisted that his punishment take
place here, under his eye.



“Hello!” Kirk Hanley sang.
“Kirk, it’s Fenn.”
“Heya, Fenn. What’s going on? Is everything alright?”
“Everything’s fine,” Fenn said. “I had started a
conversation with your other half, and I was wondering if he
was around.”
“Paul!” Kirk called, and then he said, “Here he comes.”
“Thanks, Kirk.”
A moment later, Paul Anderson picked up the phone.
“Hey, Fenn. What’s going on?”
“I cut you short on a conversation yesterday.”
“Was it only yesterday? I guess it was. Well, there were
other things to attend to.”
“Yes,” Fenn allowed. “And now they have been attended
to. So what’s going on with this—no one else is on the line are
they?”
“No,” Paul said, his own voice hushed.
“Good. Well, then what’s going on with Noah?”
“Nothing. I mean nothing has happened. But we really
haven’t hung out together or anything like that.”
“Was this just a passing thing, or do you still want what you
said?”
“It was strictly a passing thing.” Paul waited a moment and
then said, “With you and Tom…?”
“Yes?”
“Do you ever want him?”
“I had ten years of him.”
“Tom’s a good looking guy, though. And you all have some
nice chemistry. I mean, you never think about sleeping with
him?”
“Firstly, our chemistry isn’t that nice, and secondly, like I
said, I had years of sleeping with Tom. I’ve already tasted that
flavor, and it was younger and fresher when I had it. This is
about you and Noah.”
“Well, I was only asking because Noah is in my past and
Tom is in yours.”
“But I’m happy with Todd.
“Are you saying I’m not happy with Kirk?”
“I’m not saying that at all. But is it what you’re saying?”
“Fenn, I’d almost think you’re twisting my words.”
“I’m just trying to be honest.”
“Honestly,” Paul said after a time. “Honestly, when I’m
with him I think of how things might have been, in another
world, where Noah was my guy. And when I think of Noah
the memories are physical, because we have been together. I
feel like if we could just do it once, then I might be over it.”
Fenn didn’t say anything, and when Paul realized he wasn’t
going to, he said, “What would you do? If you were feeling this
way about someone else, not necessarily Tom, but anyone else,
what would you do?”
“I would tell Todd,” Fenn said simply. “And if things are
really like this, you need to talk to Kirk.”



“So how do you guys feel about it?” Chad asked them.
He and Kenny were sitting in Claire and Julian’s house,
across from their friends, the two men lightly touching hands
and looking anxious.
“I think it’s great,” Claire said.
“Yeah,” Julian said.
“No, they don’t,” Chad looked at Kenny. “They’re still
uncertain.”
“The truth is we’re a little indifferent,” Julian told them.
Claire thought this was a crass confession, but it was more
or less honest.
“It’s too new,” she added. “It’s new and you and Brendan
weren’t that great, and you and Chad aren’t really that official
so…”
“How do you like that?” Chad said, releasing Kenny’s hand.
“After all this talk about the necessity of outness, it turns out
no one gives a damn.”
Kenny yawned and pulled at Chad’s hand.
“I’m tired,” he said.
“Is that a let’s go to bed yawn?” Chad smiled at him.
“Alright,” Julian rose up. “Take that shit out of here.”
“Closing time!” Claire sang. “You don’t have to go home, but you
can’t stay here!”

When Chad and Kenny were gone, the phone rang and, on
her way to pick it up, Claire said, “It’s Noah. Are all of our
friends gay, or am I just imagining it? Hello,” she said, picking
up.
“I need to talk to you and soon.”
“Is this a right now thing, or a tomorrow at lunch thing?”
“Oh, my God. I forgot I’m unemployed! I could never do
lunch before. Well… no. It’s a right now thing.”
“Oh, alright. Okay.”
Claire put the phone to her chest. “This shit will probably
actually be important,” she told Julian.
Claire gave her friend the ready: “Alright, Noah.”
“I love James,” Noah began.
“That’s good,” Claire told him. “Good… And hardly a dire
confession.”
“The dire confession is about Paul.”
“My Paul?”
“Yes,” said Noah.
“Alright,” Claire nodded. “Spill.”
“See, I’ve been paying attention to us, lately. And… I think
I love him too.”

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was an excellent portion! I am glad Dylan has accepted the discipline that Fenn has dished out. I don't know if the grounding will work but it's a start. This Paul and Noah thing has me curious. I wonder if they are going to get together or at least have sex? I will just have to wait and see. I liked Meredith and Mathan together but it looks like that is definitely in the past. Great writing and I look forward to more in a few days! I hope you are having a great week!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Well, I hadn't post the next section, so you're about to get more writing now. When you read it is your own affair, though. It does seem like a lot of old loves are coming to an end and a lot of new experiments are beginning, and who can say where they will go. Even Fenn's discipline is a bit of an experiment.

 

[ChrisGibson]

THINGS TURN

CONCLUSION


“Meredith, things are crazy over here. We’ve got Brendan
sleeping on our couch cause his stuff has fallen apart, and I
wouldn’t be surprised if Chad ended up over here too,” Dena
told her stepsister. “So, look, I am not trying to denigrate,
downplay or any other thing that begins with the letter D your
feelings, I’m just saying maybe, maybe, maybe, you should
seriously reconsider your feelings for the men in your life.”
“Even Grandma thinks I’m crazy,” Meredith said, as she
strapped her overnight bag on.
“That’s because Grandma isn’t senile,” Milo told her.
“Miles,” Dena said, quietly.
Milo let out a great sigh, and Meredith said, “I’m going over
to visit Kip, and that’s it. I’m going over, and trust me to have
some sense to do the right thing.”

The drive was nearly an hour, and now she was used to it. She
hardly noticed the shapes of fences and the lines of trees in the
dark. There was scarcely any moon out tonight and so after the
headlights, it was only red taillights like cigarette butts that
accompanied her. Now and again a yellow light came her way.

It seemed she was making so much noise as she turned into
the driveway and ran over the gravel, and as she parked, the
screen door for the house opened, and Kip was standing there.
She parked the car, and put her hand over her chest. She
got out of the car and came across the gravel to him.
“Merry,” he said, his voice soft.
“I’m here,” she said simply, putting her hands to his waist.
She felt a gentle electric throb as she did that.
“I am here,” she repeated, firmly. “Let’s do this.”




“You…” Rick Ferguson shook his head as he buckled his belt.
“Insatiable.”
Bryant sat on the side of the bed. He was pulling a tee shirt
on over his chest, and Rick said, “They tell you that the older
you get the more settled you get. And they say how you don’t
care about sex or… any of that stuff anymore.”
Bryant stood up. He was pulling on jogging pants then
picking up his trousers and shirt.
“That hasn’t happened to me. I haven’t changed. I’m just as
restless as ever.”
“Yes,” Rick said, smiling at him in admiration. “You are.
“I’m glad we finally decided to do this.”
“I am too.”
“I don’t know what we were waiting for.”
“You weren’t waiting for anything,” Bryant said, leaning
against the lentil of the bedroom door. “Or… the only thing
you were waiting for was me.”
“Well, what were you waiting for?”
“Something that’s not going to happen,” Bryant said,
simply.
Nick seemed caught up short by this answer. His hands
were on his tie, knotting it.
“Well… yes. When should we get together again?”
Bryant was thinking of saying something like, “We’ll get
together when I say so,” But instead he said, “Tomorrow.
Tomorrow in my office, on my floor, in my chair. Wherever.
“This thing is on,” he decided.
Nick stood looking at him.
“What?” Bryant said.
“I think I’m a little scared of you.”
Bryant chuckled. “That’s silly.”
“No it isn’t. I’m deeply attracted to you and totally afraid. I
want to kiss you, but I can’t do it without your permission.”
“Well, then you have my permission,” Bryant said.
Nick Ferguson stepped up to him. He cupped the planes of
Bryant’s face and looked at him. Bryant looked younger than
he was, and he was panting a little. His eyes looked like they
were daring him. No time to think about it. Just kiss him. Kiss
him like when they were making love, uninhibited, aggressive,
inside of each other, hands over each other, bodies pressing.
“I don’t get tired of you,” Nick said. And then he said, “I
gotta go.”




“Please tell Paul that this is a bad idea,” Claire said at her sister-in-
law’s table.
“Whatever it is,” Shelley rounded the table, “it’s a bad
idea.”
Paul gave her a hooked grin.
Then Shelley asked: “Now what is it?”
“What is what?” Matty entered the kitchen.
“There’s just no privacy left,” Paul said.
“There can be,” said Claire. “if you need it.”
“No, no!” Paul threw up his hands. “Alright, here we go. I
have thought about—haven’t done it yet, but thought about—
having an affair.”
Shelley leaned forward and slapped her brother-in-law in
the back of the head.
“Ouch.”
“That’s my advice,” Shelley said. “Don’t do it.”
“It’s with Noah Riley,” Claire threw out.
“Oh, well, then definitely don’t do it,” Shelley warned.
“Let’s wait a minute,” Matty straddled the chair.
“Wait a minute for what?” Claire asked him. “What’s there
to wait for?”
“Well, just this, Sis: Here we are; you, me, Shelley. We’ve all
talked about this affair Paul wants to have. Has he talked about
it with Kirk?”
Paul blinked at his brother.
“Have you?” Matty said.
“You got three kids with this guy, right? And didn’t you
say—remember when you all first got together—that you
would follow him anywhere. You were going to move back to
California for this guy, but right now you’re seriously thinking
of Noah, who has someone, doesn’t he? I mean, what the fuck
inspired this?”
When Paul didn’t answer, Claire said, “He saw some old
pictures of when they were together.”
Matty Anderson had never known about the porn. They
had gone so long without talking about it that, one day, Claire
and Paul just decided they never should. All Matty knew was
that Paul and Noah had once been together, and wasn’t that
enough?
“I don’t know if talking to Kirk’s the best idea,” Shelley
said.
“Wouldn’t you want me to talk it over with you?” Matty
said.
“Honestly? I’m not so sure, Matt. I don’t know that I’d
want to hear that some other woman was looking good to you.
I think I’d rather not hear about that. I think I’d just want you
to do the right thing.”
“I think,” Claire said, “You might want to go talk to Noah
himself. Really have it out.”
“Unless you think you’ll be too carried away by lust and just
fuck him on the table top as soon as you see him,” Matty
countered.
“You’re a fucking poet, you know that?” his wife said.
Matty shrugged. “I’m just a humble country boy from East
Carmel.”


The screen door to the porch opened and Paul turned from his
contemplation of the night. Matty came out to sit beside him.
“Hey.”
“Hey, yourself,” said Paul.
“Remember when we used to sit out on the stoop, at the
old house and wait for Dad to come home?” Matty said.
“You and Claire were so little then.”
“He’d be late all the time. Later and later. Sometimes not
come at all. Mom had the sense not to worry, not to come
out.”
“We don’t really know what was going on inside of Mom,”
Paul said, more in discovery than declaration.
“No,” Matty admitted. “And then I remember we waited
and we waited, and he just didn’t come back. We didn’t know
it was the last time.”
“I don’t remember when the last time was.”
Matty said, “It was the thirtieth of March. I remember that.
March twenty-ninth was the last time we would see him. He
never came back.”
The brothers sat on the porch steps, quiet for a while. In
the distance a truck came rumbled down the road. Finally
Matty spoke.
“Noah is one of the best guys in the world. If you’re going
to do something crazy, you need to really, really think about it.
Because Kirk is one of the best guys too.”
“I never even thought about gay people or you being gay or
any of that till you came back from California. And now I’m so
used to it. You and Kirk look so right together, Bro. You can’t
screw that shit up. At least not without a very good reason.”
“You’re right. Of course you’re right,” Paul said.
He chuckled.
“What?”
“Lust. It’s funny. I thought that me and Noah were such a
good idea because of something I saw for a moment and
now…” he just shook his head.
“No, it’s Kirk. I’m so lucky with him. It’s always been
Kirk.”



“So do we start with your story, or with mine?” Carol said.
“Oh, I don’t really have much of a story,” Mathan told her.
“Some people say everyone has a story.”
“Some people say Taco Bell is Mexican food.”
Carol shrugged. “Still, I bet there is far more to you than
you think, or for that matter, than that girl thought.”
“I…” Mathan began, opening and closing his hands before
him as he walked, “I am tall. I am the tallest member of my
family.”
“Well, the Houghtons aren’t the tallest people, no.”
“And I am always the calm one,” Mathan said. “I’m calm
and steady and that’s pretty much what I can say about me.
That’s all.
“The truth is I’m just not that interesting.”
“But are you interested?”
“What?”
“Someone once told me,” Carol said, “that it was more
important to be interested in life, than to always try to be
interesting. Everyone wants to be so interesting. They’re bored
because they don’t pay attention. And as far as I’m concerned,
that’s the reason they’re boring. I learned to stop being
interesting by the time I was twenty-five.”
Mathan snorted, then quickly put his hand to his mouth.
“What?” Carol said.
“Nothing. Only… I’m not twenty-five, yet.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty two.”
“Oh,” Carol said. “I must have been about twelve when
you were born.”
Neither one of them said anything for a while, then, as they
neared the old brown house where Dena and Milo stayed,
Mathan said, “Well, this is it.”
“Are you coming in?”
“Not right now,” Mathan said. “I have to be up early.”
“Will I see you again?”
“I’m sure you will.”
“I would like to see you again,” Carol said with a little more
force in her voice.
Mathan seemed to have not caught on, and then he said,
“Oh… I… Oh. Well, yes. Well, what about breakfast?”
“Early,” she assessed, “but with none of the commitment
implied by dinner. Sure. Breakfast it is.”
“Tomorrow morning then? Eight?”
“Yes,” Carol decided. “Yes.”




When Todd came out of the bathroom, brushing his teeth,
Fenn was sitting on the bed with his open journal on his lap.
The pages were largely blank. Fenn was too tired for writing.
“Hurry up and gargle so you can come to bed. I need this
day to be over.”
Todd chuckled with his foamy mouth and, in his Jockeys,
walked back to the bathroom, spat, and then Fenn heard him
gargling. A moment later he came back to bed and sat down
beside Fenn, who yawned.
“Do you think we should check up on Dylan?” Todd
asked.
“No. He’s reached his limit of pulling shit,” Fenn said. “He
knows better.
“Oh, Todd, what next?” he lamented, turning the light off.
“I’m too old for this, and it doesn’t seem like shit’s going to get
any easier.”
Todd turned his light off and fell back into bed beside
Fenn.
“What can I do?” he said.
“You,” Fenn said, turning to him and placing his head on
Todd’s chest, “can squeeze me incredibly tight, and by your
amazing powers of osmosis make it all go away.”
“Like that?”
“Yes,” Fenn said, delighted. “That’s it.”
Neither one of them said a thing, and then Fenn said, “That
fool. Those fools.”
“Hum?”
“Dylan has no idea. He doesn’t know anything about this.”
“By this you mean being old?”
“By this I mean knowing your lover will be here and having
someone who stays in this bed night after night for years, and
who you want even more than when he was twenty.”
“You want me more than then?”
“I’d say you look the same, but you actually look better, and
you still make me want you.”
“You keep saying that,” Todd murmured, pulling Fenn
closer, “and we’ll never have any trouble.”
“And, not only that, but over the years you’ve gotten that
other power.”
“What? The power to squeeze you and make it all go
away?”
“Yes,” Fenn said. “That’s the one.”



Upon waking, Meredith was immediately conscious of her
breasts. She never slept without a top, and now the bed sheet
touched her bare nipples. She was completely naked.

Beside her, back to her was Kip, curled in a fetal position.
The wings of his shoulders were sharp, and his ass was covered
in a light dusting of hair. He snored softly. Meredith pulled the
blanket over them, and tried to lie still before realizing she
didn’t feel comfortable at all. She had to go to the bathroom,
that was it. She sat up, reaching for her clothing, assembling
enough of a wardrobe to go down the hall.

When she came back, she stood in the bedroom and looked
at Kip. His mouth was a little open and he was sleeping on his
hands. She could not climb back in that bed. She had to go.
“You just can’t leave without a note,” she told herself.
Meredith went to her purse and dug around until she found
a scrap of gum and lipstick scented paper, and then she had to
find a pen. She quickly scribbled on it, needing to get this
written before he woke up. She pushed the note onto his
pillow, and then she was gone.




SHERIDAN WENT TO ANSWER the door and was
surprised to see Meredith standing before him in yesterday’s
clothes.
“Where’s Logan?” she said.
“He’s gone to LA for a photo shoot.”
Meredith could tell her friend was about to go on about
how proud he was, but she didn’t have time for this, so she just
pushed ahead and said, “That’s good. That’s good. I don’t
think I could take it right now if anyone else was around.”
“Meredith, what’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong,” Meredith began, her voice trembling, “is
that I used to be a very sensible girl. I used to make some
fucking sense.”
Sheridan only nodded.
“People used to count on me to do the intelligent thing.
“I went to Kip’s last night. I slept with him, and then I got
up and ran away, and now I’m here, and he’s at home
wondering what’s going on, and Mathan is gone, and
everything’s crazy.”
Suddenly Meredith began to cry.
Sheridan knew her too well too walk over and hug her. He
just stood there, quiet.
Meredith took the back of her hand across her face before
lamenting in frustration:
“I don’t know who the fuck I am anymore.”

 

[CharmedFan28]

Poor Meredith. Her life has gone downhill a lot in the last few chapters. I hope she can find what she wants in life and soon before she does something even worse. I am glad Paul has realised that he is still in love with Kirk. I don't know what will happen with him but it will be interesting none the less. That was a great conclusion to the chapter and I look forward to more in a few days! Have a nice weekend!

 

[ChrisGibson]

You have a great weekend as well. What a week. We all deserve a bit of a rest.

 

[ChrisGibson]

ELEVEN
SECRETS THAT WOULD
GO TO THE GRAVE


“SO, WHAT YOU’RE SAYING is you’re in love with him?”
“What I’m saying,” Paul said, “is that I am attracted to him.
I am attracted to Noah. In twelve years I haven’t been attracted
to another man.”
“But have you been attracted to him for twelve years?”
“What?”
“To Noah Riley? For twelve years have you been wanting
him?”
“No,” Paul began. Then, “I don’t know.” Then, “It’s hard
to say. Does it matter?”
“It matters if you’ve been in love with him for twelve
years.”
Paul’s face hardened. He said, “There’s no doing it right.
Keeping it to myself, that’s not doing it right. Coming to you,
that’s not doing it right, either. We need to work this out.”
“It seems like you have worked it out,” Kirk said.
“Kirk, sit down. Please sit down. We need to work this
out.”
“I don’t want to work this out,” Kirk said. “You think you
get tired of this? I get tired of it too. You think you get tired of
me? Well, I get tired of you, too.”
When Paul said nothing, Kirk said, “Go on ahead, fuck
him. Go and fuck Noah as hard as you can, just like you used
to. I don’t really care.” His voice was tired.
“Just fucking go.”


“WE THINK YOU’RE GOING to do really well in this
campaign,” the man behind the desk said. “And so far we’ve
got some really nice shots.”
Logan nodded his head and smiled.
“I mean, you’ve definitely come up the hard way into
modeling, but I don’t really know that there’s an easy way.
Look at me. I took the easy way. I could never be a model.”
Logan grinned and said, “Naw, you look great.” He knew
how to be charming and casual. “And you’re the one on the
other side of the desk, right?”
“Well,” the man said, “I guess I am.
“Now, there’s one thing I’d like you to do.”
“Okay,” Logan nodded.
“I want you to try something. I want you to get on your
knees, right here.”
There had been stranger things Logan had been asked to
do, and for far less promise.
“That’s right,” said the man. “You’re a really good looking
boy.”
Logan nodded. They wanted you sweet and gullible, affable
and pliable. Even though you’d been fucked a million times
and jizzed across a thousand faces, you were still the all
American, affable boy.
“Just take off your shirt. I want to see what you’ve got
again.”
Logan obliged, and the man got out of his chair and came
around the desk. Logan wondered what was going on as his
new boss stroked his shoulders and ran a hand over and down
his chest.
“You’re nice. You’re nice,” he purred. His voice reminded
Logan of the crazy man in Silence of Lambs.
It puts the lotion in the basket, Logan thought, and chuckled.
“You’re nice,” the man said, chuckling along.
“Okay, now what I want you to do,” the executive said, the
jingling of his belt accompanying his voice, “is to suck on my
cock for a while.”
Logan coughed and moved back, surprised a little.
“What are…? No, I’m not into that now. I’m modeling.
Remember?”
Maybe he’d forgotten. “I’m spreading out…. and all.”
“And that’s great, but everything is part of everything,” the
man in the grey suit said, pulling his pants down. “It’s all very
sexual,” he elaborated, his voice not changing as he took out
his penis and began stroking it.
“The things you’re going to be doing, your photo shoots,
are already very sexual. This is just part of it. Now suck my
cock.”

Logan didn’t have much practice in saying no and, what
was more, he knew that this was the unwritten part of the
contract. He’d done this before. He’d done it for a hell of a lot
less. He imagined every hot boy who was getting out of porn
had done this, so he did it. It would be over soon enough.
“That’s nice,” the man purred as he pulled Logan’s head
forward and attempted to thrust his cock as far into Logan’s
mouth as possible. “That’s nice,” he told Logan, tugging on his
head, “Do it like you mean it. Do it like you love it. Swallow
my fat white cock. Yeah, suck that cock.”
His voice never changed as he fucked Logan’s mouth.
“Lick those balls too. Lick them. That’s nice. You’re a good
little boy. How would you like it if I fucked you?”
Logan went on, enthusiastically sucking the man’s dick. If
you weren’t going to do it with enthusiasm, you shouldn’t do it
at all. They all got so upset unless you pretended.
“I’ve got a condom, don’t want to screw up your
reputation,” the man said, pulling his penis out of Logan’s
mouth. “Why don’t you get on your knees, kind of doggy style
so I can see that round little ass of yours? That’s right. Hold
on, let me get this on. I just really need to fuck you right now.”
Logan endured it, saying nothing as long as he could. The
real mantra was that he’d been through worse before, and he
had. He’d been roughly raped with no condom and a knife to
his neck in his own apartment. He’d been blown by meth
addict hillbillies living in a trailer park who had saved up for a
night with him. This was nothing. Even when this man began
tugging on his hair and saying, “Moan for me, baby. Moan like
you like it. Tell me to never stop fucking you…”
Even then, Logan thought of the past and said to himself,
This is nothing.



Noah answered the door for Casey. He was always surprised
by what his old friend looked like. Casey was always a little too
thin in those baggy jeans and that hoodie, always a little too
nerdy in the black rimmed spectacles, a trifle apologetic. Once
upon a time he looked like a porn star all the time, but then
they had both been porn stars, they had both looked like that.
What did people see when they saw Noah Riley, now Noah
wondered?
“Come in.”
Casey nodded and Noah said, “Can I get you anything?
Have you eaten?”
“Yeah, I don’t eat much. It was just a protein shake for
breakfast. You know…” Casey lifted his shirt momentarily and
Noah saw that Casey still had his body, “I’m not totally out of
the biz. It still owns me.”
“I’ve got juice. Pomegranate juice. Orange juice?”
“Pom, yeah,” Casey said, and they went into the kitchen.
Noah poured the juice and sat down across from Casey. It
had been years since he’d done a film, but starting in
Rummelsville, and then especially in California, Noah had
learned good health, so flax seed, pomegranate juice, things
that would not be in most houses in Rossford, were here.
“I came here,” Casey said, taking a sip of the juice,
“because I know how you’ve felt about me. I didn’t think you
should have to come to me for help, and I want to help you in
any way I can.”
“I don’t feel any way about you,” Noah protested.
“We used to be friends,” Casey said. “We used to both be
these crazy party animals. We used to do so much shit together
and have so much in common. Then you met James and went
your way, and I went mine.”
“And you also decided to start sleeping with my son.”
“I was getting to that,” Casey said. “And I understand you
never forgiving me. Cause you think I was just some perv
doing something to Chay, and I’m not saying that how it
started was right. You don’t understand, Noah. I had done a
bunch of films by then. I’d done a lot of things. But me and
Chay always scared me. That was the first time I was terrified
of crossing a line. He was so young. But I was so in love with
him. I mean, the same way you love James.”
“How is it the same?” Noah said. “I waited and waited for
James and he waited and waited for me. You committed
statutory rape with my kid. How’s that the same?”
“Cause I can’t live without him, and I’ll die before I hurt
him.”
Casey took another sip of the tart juice. His lips were
turning deep red.
“And anyway, he’s grown now, and we’re doing a damn
sight better than he ever did with that Sheridan. And we’re not
here about Chay. We’re here about you.”
“I don’t need a handout,” Noah said.
“Well, I’m not giving you one. Goddamn,” Casey swore.
“You know what?” Casey added. “I don’t really think about
God too much. Not seriously, but I really hope there is
something like, I dunno, heaven or peace or whatever, cause
maybe one day we can go back to being friends.”
“Only if heaven has blow and sleazy assholes who shoot us
fucking each other, cause that was pretty much the context of
our friendship,” Noah said. “I got over that period of my life.
You live in it. Well, com’on, Casey, what was your offer?”
Casey hunched his shoulders.
“Dare I even offer,” he wondered aloud, “given the
persnickitty tone of your holier than thou voice?”
“Persnickity?”
“Well, I will offer,” Casey said, adding, “but there should be
a rule that says that once anyone has had a train pulled on
them, he has to be a little bit humble concerning the morals of
others. Between you and Paul shit gets awfully churchy.”
Noah cleared his throat, indicating that Casey should go on.
“How many times have you heard pornstars lament not
getting treated right, not being paid enough, being asked to do
dangerous things for no money, all of that shit? Basically not
being protected.”
“All the fucking time.”
“Right. As far as I’m concerned we’re the gay military.
We’re out on the sexual frontlines, and no one treats us right.
We’re like war vets, born on the fucking Fourth of July.”
Noah couldn’t tell if Casey was serious or not.
“And when I started my company, it was about giving us
some freedom, giving us some agency. Well, here is the next
step in the Casey Williams porn legacy.”
“Are you serious?”
“You know what Noah? You were lucky. You found James,
You found some money. Paul was lucky too. If none of that
had happened, where would you be?”
Noah was quiet.
“I’m giving you the chance to get in on the ground floor of
my next step for the betterment of gay pornstars.”
“Which is?”
Casey put his hands together and smiled.
“Which is,” he said, “the Noah Riley School for Gay Porn
Stars.”




“SO WHAT ARE YOU going to do?” Mathan asked him.
Brendan tagged along to breakfast with his sister and
Mathan Alexander, and he shrugged, fork resting over his
pancakes.
“I called off of work for the first time ever, and I’ve got to
get back and work double time this week.”
“How can you work double, double time?” Carol
demanded.
“I wasn’t even talking about your job,” Mathan told him. “I
meant what about Kenny?”
“Kenny has really and truly made his decision,” Brendan
said, soberly. “I can’t do a thing about that?”
“Don’t you care?” Carol said.
“Of course I care,” Brendan said. “What kind of question is
that?”
Mathan looked at Carol, and then he looked to Brendan.
“It’s actually a really good question,” he said.
“You left him all alone,” Carol reminded her brother. “And
then, when he left, you didn’t do anything. Maybe you don’t
care. Maybe you really are through, Bren.”
“I know we’re through,” Brendan said, a little heatedly,
“because Kenny’s sleeping with Chad North. And I am not
doing anything because there isn’t anything to do. There’s
nothing to do.”
When neither Mathan nor Carol said anything, Brendan
continued, “I don’t know what else I could do. I did everything
I was supposed to do. There wasn’t a time I could have said, I
can work less, or I don’t have to do this or do that. And I just
found myself where I am, and now where that is—is alone.
“Well,” Brendan said, “To hell with it, I guess. I got a train
to catch.”
Brendan stood up. “I gotta go to the little boy’s room, I’ll
be right back. Don’t worry about the check, I got it.”
When Brendan was gone, Carol waited a minute and then
said to Mathan, “I knew inviting Little Brother to breakfast
would put a cramp in my game, but I never imagined how
much.”
Mathan smiled.
“How much could you stand to see this old woman again?”
“What old woman?”
“The old woman who was twelve when you were born.”
“I,” Mathan said, spreading his hands out, “see no old
woman, but this young girl in front of me I would be very glad
to see again.”
“Well, good,” Carol said. “Can you wait to see her until she
gets back from Chicago?”
When Mathan waited for an explanation she said, “The
good thing about being jobless and almost homeless is that it
frees you up to do what you should. And what I should do
right now is be there for my baby brother.”
Mathan nodded.
“If you’re there for him,” he said. “I’ll be there for you.”
He shrugged. “It’s not like I have any place else to go.”

 

[CharmedFan28]

Sorry I took so long to read this, I have had a busy day. Sounds like Paul has a decision to make, fight for what he has with Kirk or sleep with Noah. I wonder what he will do? Brendan seems to care more about his job more then anything else, including Kenny. That makes me a bit sad as he is one of my favourite characters. Hopefully all this sacrifice for his job was worth it. I wonder if Noah will take up Casey's offer? I guess I will have to wait and see what the answer is to all these questions in future chapters. Great writing and I look forward to more as always! Have a nice week.

 

[ChrisGibson]

Brendan has certainly prioritized work and his career in a way, that frankly, many people and many gay men who want to be successful do. While he is disappointing, he is realistic nd Brendan does have an old habit of doing the wrong thing and learning too late. Kenny is done with that, and as the story progresses we'll see what happens with that. The book os nearly done, but the story is not. I cannot say what will happen with Paul, only that a lot of people this time around are making not great choices.

 

[ChrisGibson]

TONIGHT A LITTLE PASSAGE WITH A LOT GOING ON



DYLAN SAT READING ON THE steps of Saint Barbara’s
High School. At last he had begun to thumb through his
father’s old red Bhagavad Gita, hoping for some clarity. There
was a section on duty. Well, there were several sections on
duty, but this morning when he had a true duty, he couldn’t
find them, and so he sat reading what was before him.

I am the ritual, I am the sacrifice, I am the offering, I am the herb, I am
the mantra, I am the clarified butter, I am the fire, and I am the oblation.
I am the supporter of the universe, the father, the mother, and the
grandfather. I am the object of knowledge, the sacred syllable OM, and the
Vedas. I am the goal, the supporter, the Lord, the witness, the abode, the
refuge, the friend, the origin, the dissolution, the foundation, the
substratum, and the immutable seed.

It was all very beautiful. All ‘I don’t get it’. But there wasn’t
anything to get. Not really. He remembered the one Bible class
they’d had, the kids saying they didn’t understand it. Dylan
understood it. He just didn’t care for it. He read on.

I give heat, I send as well as withhold the rain. I am immortality as well
as death, I am also both the eternal Absolute and the temporal, O
Arjuna. The Supreme Being has become everything.

Dylan read to the very end of the passage, the bit he had
browsed very early this morning.

I personally take care of both spiritual and material welfare of those eversteadfast
devotees who always remember and adore Me with single-minded
contemplation.

Ah, there it was. There was the promise. The tricky thing about
Jesus is he never promised anything. The Father maketh the sun to
shine on the good and the bad alike? Well, then what did it matter?
How could he trust that? He needed to be protected.
Especially now.
Dylan closed the little book, and stuffed it in his bag, toying
with breathing out the sound, “OM.” He was watching his
cousin kiss Alex, separate from him, kiss him again, link hands
and then finally run up the steps to join him as Alex got in his
car to drive away. When Laurel reached him, Dylan said, “I am
not looking forward to what I have to do, today.”

As Dylan and Laurel entered the school, Lance, closing his
locker, saw them, and the leggy young man, books swinging in
his long arms, blazer flapping, waved as he heading in their
direction.
“Hey, sports,” he said, catching Dylan’s hand lightly.
“I’m grounded,” Dylan said.
“I know, and that’s bad.”
“We need to talk.”
“I bet we do,” Lance said merrily. “I guess the old man
won’t be letting me come around anymore?”
“No, we need to seriously talk.”
Lance’s handsome face changed.
“Alright?” he said, looking suspicious. “Third period?
Before lunch? We both got a free period.”
“Right,” Dylan said, his voice doubtful.
Lance leaned in and whispered something in Dylan’s ear.
By the horrified look and the blenched expression on her
cousin’s face, Laurel guessed that what he had said was that he
loved him. Then Lance was off to his first period, and they
were off to theirs.
When Dylan came out of third period, Lance startled him,
standing right at the door, leaning on the lockers.
“You ready to talk?”
“Yeah,” Dylan said. He was as ready as he would ever be.
He hated himself right now, but he never backed down.
“Outside?” Lance said, and Dylan nodded.
They went to one of the little porches that overlooked the
blacktop and sat down there. Dylan couldn’t help thinking how
good Lance looked. He was tall and lean, growing into a man’s
body. He squatted on his hams and Dylan was aware that, if he
wanted it, they could go back somewhere and have sex. He
loved having sex with Lance. The urge woke his body up right
now. His father was right, he was too young for all of this. He
had to make a grown up decision and he couldn’t get above his
hard on.
“Hey, what’s up?” Lance said, concerned.
“I’m in love with you and you’ve never been so hot to me.”
Lance chuckled offhandedly.
“That’s not a problem. Not so long as we keep it under
raps. Remember when you got back from Chi, and we did it
right over there?”
Lance’s face was red, and Dylan heated up.
“I love Ruthven more,” he spat out.
Lance looked at him.
“It doesn’t make any sense but I feel like as long as…”
He stopped talking while Lance’s eyes sat on him. They
were very blue and very powerful, and a little bit angry.
“I feel like I am seriously stringing you along if every time
Ruthven shows up I think about him.”
“You think about him when he doesn’t show up.”
“I know,” Dylan said, helplessly. “It’s like I said. I’m in love
with him.”
Dylan added, “And he’s in love with me too.”
Lance took a breath and then, sighing, stretched back. He
seemed to be thinking about something.
“We’re breaking up?” he said.
“Yeah,” Dylan said, but his voice sounded doubtful, as if he
wasn’t exactly sure.
“Well, then you better go get your shit from my house.”
“Do I have anything there?”
“Yeah. Let’s go. Now.”
“We can’t just leave school.”
“Free period, and you got a lunch next. If you’re going to
leave me, at least do this.”
“Alright,” Dylan said. “Walking or driving?”
“Driving is best.”
Even though he’d been in Lance’s house a hundred times
before, it seemed too big and too empty this morning.
“Hello!” Lance called out as he closed the door behind him
and locked it. “Hello?”
No one answered and Lance raised a finger and then
beckoned for Dylan to follow him. He walked through the
living room and the dining room and the kitchen.
“Should anyone be here?” Dylan said.
“No one should be here,” Lance said.
“Well, then…”
“Best to make sure.”
“Alright,” Dylan shrugged.
Lance was very still.
“Where’s my stuff?” Dylan said. “I don’t even know about
the—”
Lance turned around with a strange look on his face and
Dylan shut up.
Lance put his hands to Dylan’s shoulders and then bent
down, kissing him. Dylan tried to squirm away, but Lance’s
grip was tight.
“Stop!” Lance said, sounding a little furious. “Stop
moving.”
Dylan did.
“You leave me? For that Ruthven. You leave me after you
come here, get me all hard, fuck with me. You’re not leaving
till I fuck you.”
“What are you—? Get off me!” Dylan shouted suddenly,
but at the same time, Lance pulled him roughly to the ground.
They were wrestling now, and Lance’s face was turning red.
Dylan imagined his was too. Lance pushed him down and
Dylan reached up to hit him in the face. And then Lance
slapped him back and threw him on his stomach so that the
wind was knocked out of him. Lance jerked his pants down
and his underwear, and Dylan struggled to turn around while
Lance held him to the ground. For a moment Lance loosened
his grip as he worked at his own pants, and then Dylan came
back up and pushed Lance off, but Lance slammed him on his
back and pushed up his thighs. Lance’s pants were down, and
he was kissing Dylan, and Dylan was confused and almost
melting into it, then struggling out of it, and then he felt a
finger, wet, and in his asshole, and he felt Lance vibrating on
his asshole and his grip slackened and he was out of himself.
“Don’t,” Dylan begged, weakly.

And then he was back, and suddenly Lance was fucking
him. They were on the living room floor, and Dylan was
looking up at the ceiling and at Lance’s face, angry at first and
then stupid and pacified, now slack jawed. Harder and harder,
quickly now, and then with a force, over and over again, Lance
fucked him, and it burned and bruised and went deep inside of
him.

Dylan found the strength to push himself back up and now
he straddled Lance and he rode him, taking him harder and
harder, stopping Lance from getting up when he tried. Now he
was holding Lance down, now Lance looked terrified, now
Dylan did this with total lust and total hatred and then he got
up, and because Lance was now weakened, he slapped him. He
turned him over, cuffing him in the back of the head and
fucked him hard, while Lance when red, while his eyes closed
and sweat poured down his face, while the color drained away,
and at the same time the color drained away, deep inside of
him, Dylan ejaculated. His hands were around Lance’s throat
while the orgasm took him off of his knees. He had been deep
inside of Lance, on his way to killing him when Dylan buckled
and disconnected from him, helpless under climax, and then
exhausted, he knelt like that and slowly rolled to his side.

Neither one of them said anything for a long time.
Lance got up first, weakly pulling up his pants, buckling his
belt, straightening himself. Dylan followed. Neither looked at
the other. Lance walked ahead of him, opened the door, and
Dylan went out. They went into his car, neither one of them
able to look at the other. As Lance turned the key in the
ignition and they started down the street, Dylan began
trembling. His teeth were chattering and he was shuddering so
hard he thought he might throw up. He wanted to get out of
this car. He wanted to get away from Lance. He wanted to get
away from everything. He had never understood the idea of a
secret that would go to the grave. He had heard of some
people who kept things to themselves, never telling anyone.
Shame had never really been a part of his life. Discretion, yes.
But not shame. Now, at this moment, Dylan wished he would
die. He knew he could never tell anyone about this morning.





“Hey, Chay.”
Chay looked up from his lunch.
“Hello, Sheridan.”
“Things are going to be awkward between us, aren’t they?”
“Is there really any other way they can be?”
Chay’s cell phone rang and he picked it up.
“Hey, Dad. I’m eating lunch and Sheridan’s here… What?
No, Dad, I won’t tell him that. No, I won’t tell anyone that.
What’s up? Really? Casey said that? Well, I suggested it. Do it.
You should do it. I don’t know,” Chay went on. “I’ll be home
tonight. Yes. Have you told Dad? Tell him. Great. All right.
Love you too. Bye.”

Chay slipped his phone back in his pocket without further
explanation of Noah’s phone call, and Sheridan said, “I was
hoping that one day things would be good between us.”
“One day, probably,” Chay said. “But not today. I think
that’s pretty impossible.”
He thought a while and said, “Sheridan, I really don’t want
things to be good between us. I mean, I really don’t think I
should have to bother with you right now.”
“But you’re not bothering with Meredith either. She’s at my
place right now.”
Chay shook his head. “I’m a little put out with her, too. I
know I don’t get a say in her life with Mathan, but still.”
“You can’t help who you love, Chay.”
“Get the fuck out,” Chay said, suddenly.
Sheridan looked at him.
“Really,” Chay said. “I think I’ve been really good. But I’m
eating my lunch now, and after you kick me to the curb you
come to me with all of this shit. You had me, you swapped me
out for Logan. You don’t get to have Logan and my friendship
and respect. Really, get the fuck out.”
Chay went back to eating; Sheridan turned around and left.
As he was exiting the cafeteria, Meredith’s head came from
around the corner.
“Are you avoiding Chay?” he asked her.
“Yeah,” she admitted. “A little. Especially when I looked in
and saw you talking to him.”
“I was making an effort.”
“Can I make a suggestion?” Meredith said. “Don’t make an
effort. Not right now. What you did to him was as bad as what
I did to Mathan. I don’t think he’ll ever want to talk to me
again.”
“Do you want to talk to him?”
“Yes. Well, a little. I… I’ve tasted the other side. Now I
know.” She shrugged.
“Oh, but that’s not what I came for. I came to tell you
Logan’s at the apartment, and he looks really, really tired.”

 

[CharmedFan28]

You were right, a lot went on in this portion. Poor Dylan. I didn't expect Lance to do that to him and I hope it doesn't happen again. I think Chay is right not to want to bother with Sheridan at the moment but I do wish him and Meredith could talk. Great writing and I look forward to the next portion.

 

[ChrisGibson]

In the end Lance came out of this skirmish equally poorly, so I think that's something that won't be repeated, but it certainly is a low point in Lance Bishop's character as well as Dylan's life. We're hitting a lot of low points here. How do you feel about Lance now? How did you feel about him before?