College Life - Part Five
by ds elliot
This is the story of two college men involved in a gay relationship.There are details of sexual contact. If such stories offend you, if you aren't of legal age to read such stories, or if such stories are illegal in your area -- please stop now and redirect your browser to another location.
This story is for your enjoyment on this site only. You may not link this story to any other site or publish this story in any other location without the permission of the author. All rights reserved. Copyright 2004.
Please share your comments and constructive criticisms with me at: dselliot28@yahoo.com
and now to Part Five....
The idea of adding children to our happy home excited both of us. Ryan and I were thinking about everything from changing diapers to raising a teenager. We really didn't have any idea about what we were actually taking on. No amount of preparation could really prepare us for the experience until it arrived. We had attended an evening orientation/instruction session that explained the responsibilities we would have as foster parents as well as information on what type of child we could expect and a long list of resources that would be available to help us with the placement. When we left the meeting we were overwhelmed by all of the possibilities. The meeting didn't diminish our desire to have a family or help kids who were struggling for whatever reason.
Our first placement came after two month of waiting. I guess Ryan and I both expected we would have a child within the week, but the wait was likely a good thing for both of us. It allowed time for both of us to lower our expectations some and base our expectations in the reality of the situation we would most likely face. Connie, the case worker from Child Protective Services, called me one morning to tell me she had a child to place with us. She asked to meet me at noon. When we met she gave me a fairly complete background on our young charge. First of all his name was Patrick. He had recently turned 13. He was removed from his home because of severe neglect and physical abuse. His mother was arrested at the time on drug charges. His mother's boyfriend was arrested on charges of physical abuse, drug charges, and resisting arrest. Patrick had been treated at the hospital for the injuries he incurred during the most recent abuse. While nothing was broken, he was badly bruised and did require a few stitches. He would continue to need medical care over the next few weeks to be certain that all of his injuries were healing. He spent last night in the hospital and was scheduled to be released in the afternoon. Connie wanted to bring him to the house after 3:00 that day unless there was some change in his condition.
After talking with Connie I called Ryan to tell him the news. Since nothing pressing was happening at the Mayor's office -- no one had screwed anything up lately so my services weren't mandatory today -- I left for home to make sure we were ready. Ryan wanted to be there at 3:00 when Patrick arrived, but he had meetings scheduled for the rest of the afternoon that he couldn't easily get out of attending. Ryan and Patrick would meet when he got home from work that evening. I thought of all the things I wanted as a kid at that age. It seemed the most important thing to me was food. I stopped for fresh produce and swung past the bakery for cookies and cake. We had soda and juice -- and plenty of other food so these additions were simply to make certain all bases were covered.
I was as ready as I ever would be when Connie arrived with Patrick. I'm not certain what I thought Connie's responsibilities were in this situation, but whatever I thought -- the reality was that she basically dumped him at the door. She introduced us, gave me a file that detailed his medical treatment and doctor for follow up visits, and wished us well. I don't think she was here for even 15 minutes. Patrick and I shared those first minutes alone together in awkward silence -- neither of us knowing what to say really. All of a sudden I felt overwhelmed. I took Patrick's coat (and he told me he was called Pat). He had a plastic bag with his things in it. The bag didn't look very full at all. I took Pat down the hall to show him the three bedrooms that were open. I asked him to pick the one he liked the best and told him that would be his room. He inspected all three rooms very completely and settled on the one with the best view. I told him about Ryan and me so he would hopefully feel more comfortable. He wasn't from this part of the city. He told me about his school. He didn't like it there because the kids picked on him and called him names. He didn't have any friends really, but there were a couple kids in his old neighborhood that he hung with on weekends and after school. The tour ended in the kitchen. I asked Pat if he was hungry. He stared at the plate of cookies I placed on the table. I poured us both a big glass of milk and we proceeded to devour all of the cookies. We each had another glass of milk before we decided that we'd had enough. Our stomachs full, we headed to the family room to get to know each other. There is something about sharing food that seems to create a bond between people. Pat seemed more relaxed and willing to talk. I started by asking,
"So Pat... Welcome to our home. I really don't know how long you will be with us, but we are happy to have you and hope you enjoy yourself while you are with us. You are our first foster child so we're learning as we go here. Connie told us that you've been in a few other foster homes when you were younger so you probably have a better idea how this works than we do. Any help you can give us along the way would be appreciated."
"Are you and this Ryan guy gay or something?
"Yes we are. I don't imagine you've really been around many gay men before. We really are pretty normal actually. We both have jobs and work each day. I will be taking some time off work until you are settled here and enrolled in school."
"Are you rich? It looks like it from this place. The apartment I lived it with my mom and Jack would fit in this room. You got a lotta stuff."
"I'm not rich. Ryan has some money, and his family is rich. His granddad gave us this apartment when we finished college and moved to the city."
"So is this Ryan some old guy?"
"No. We are the same age."
"Is he ugly or mean or something?"
"No. He is the most attractive man I know. He looks like a model in a magazine. He is also one of the most generous men I've ever met. I think you will really like him when you meet him. Everyone likes Ryan."
"Are you gonna try to do gay stuff to me?"
"God, no. We never would do that to a child or anyone else."
"I'm not a child."
"You're right. You aren't a child. We would never do that to anyone. I didn't ask Connie if you are straight or gay. I have no idea whether you know that or not yet. To us it doesn't matter. I assumed you are straight and will stay with that assumption until you tell me otherwise. Starting your teenage years can be a very confusing time. Your body is going through changes. You are starting to see everything a different way. Your attitudes will change towards your likes and dislikes. Things that were cool last year won't be this year. Added to all of that you've had some bad experiences at home -- experiences no one should have to live through especially a child. I see our job, Ryan's and mine, to help you through these trying times while giving you a safe and secure home. I'd like you to see us as substitute parents -- two adults you can come to with any question or concern or problem. We'll do our best to help you through every situation."
"So what are the rules here?"
"I don't know. I never really thought about rules for you. What do you think the rules should be?"
"Every place I lived before had rules. One place I stayed for a couple months didn't have too many. I don't think those people cared what we did as long as we didn't cause them any problems. They had three other foster kids living there. I was the youngest. At the other place I was like the slave. I had all these chores to do everyday. They punished me if I didn't get them all done or done right. They didn't hit me like Jack did, but I couldn't watch TV or play outside and stuff. I really didn't like staying there. I don't know what the rules should be. I never stayed with rich people before."
"You really shouldn't look at us as rich people. You should look at us as substitute parents. We'd like you to see us as your parents. I don't know how long you will get to stay with us, but while you are here we will consider you our son. I'm know we will treat you like that. We will likely use our parents as the role models to follow. We had rules at my home when I was growing up, but they were pretty easy to follow really. Those rules were things like keeping our rooms clean, helping with the chores around the house, cleaning up our messes, putting toys away, being home for dinner on time, asking permission to go out and telling my parents where we were going and who we'd be with, and things like that."
"That doesn't seem to bad I guess."
"I think what you and I should do is think about what rules would be appropriate. We will each make a list of the rules we think would be good and necessary then compare them tomorrow afternoon and together we can come up with a list of rules we should all follow. How does that sound?"
"You're gonna let me make the rules? No one ever asked me to make my own rules before. I think it's a good idea though."
Pat and I continued to talk about all sorts of topics... his likes and dislikes, games he enjoyed, sports, his home life with his mother and her boyfriend, drugs, guys he played with or hung with, hobbies, school, favorite subjects in school, the guys who picked on him and some of the names he was called, his grades in school. It was a time to get to know each other better. Pat occasionally asked questions too, but he didn't ask a lot. He seemed conditioned to not ask questions -- probably from years of punishment when he did ask. When I brought up the most recent circumstances of his hospitalization, Pat tensed up more than he had at any time. I told him what Connie had told me about some of his injuries. Pat was obviously embarrassed, but I told him that talking about it would help him get past that experience. Pat told me that Jack had always been mean to him and always smacked him around or whipped him for stuff, but this time was the worst. Pat wasn't sure what set Jack off this time. He didn't remember doing anything wrong. It started when he went to the kitchen to find something to eat for dinner. Pat told me that he thought he was going to die because Jack just wouldn't stop. While the beating was happening his mother was high in the bedroom and never did come out to see what was happening to him. Pat cried when he talked about his mom. I moved closer to him and put my arm around his shoulder -- pulling him into a hug. He put his free arm around me to hug back as he continued to cry for a few minutes. My eyes were brimming with tears as i thought about the emotional scars that must come from the abuse and neglect -- and the knowledge that someone who is supposed to love you is more concerned about getting high in the next room than a child's safety. Pat pulled back from the hug and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. He said.
"I suppose you think I'm a cry baby."
"Not at all. You have every reason and right to cry. The beating must have been awful. I've never been through anything like that. I know I had tears in my eyes when you were telling me about it. It really is ok to cry."
"I'm not a baby you know. I can take care of myself. I've been doing it for a long time."
"I suspect that you have been taking care of yourself, but now Ryan and I are here to help. I hope you will let us. We really do want the best for you. I hope you will think of this as another chance. I think you'll see that we are decent guys who only want the best for you. If you stay here long enough I know you will see me cry too."
"Does Ryan beat you?"
"No -- never. Sometimes he makes me so happy that I'm overwhelmed with emotions. My tears are from being too happy."
"I never heard of anyone crying because they are too happy. It never happened to me or anyone I know."
"Well maybe it will while you are here. It is really such a good feeling. It happens to me when I'm overcome with joy and happiness. Ryan goes out of his way to do incredibly nice things for me, and my heart feels so full of love and happiness that my eyes tear up and start to fall."
"That seems pretty weird to me. I only ever cry when I'm hurt."
As Pat finished his last statement, Ryan came bounding into the room. His natural energy and excitement filled the room. I introduced him to Pat. They shook hands. Pat seemed to sink into the chair he was in as Ryan bubbled over with enthusiasm over our new charge. He realized that Pat and I had the afternoon to get acquainted and didn't want to force Pat to repeat everything. Ryan was good at asking questions to get the information he wanted, and he was so very non-threatening as he did this. I'm certain Pat never realized that he was being interrogated by the best.
After talking for an hour, Ryan announced that he was starved. I hadn't even thought about dinner. Ryan suggested we all go to a restaurant for dinner and to celebrate Pat coming to stay with us. Ryan went down to our room to change, and I took Pat to his room so he could wash up. Connie had given me a paper bag with medication for Pat. I went through the bag and found a pain killer that he could take if the pain was bad. I told Pat that I had pain medication for him if he needed it. He said that his chest and ribs hurt and his butt was pretty sore. I gave him one of the pain tablets. Pat was looking through his plastic bag for something, but he didn't seem to find what he wanted. He said,
"I can't find my toothbrush and toothpaste. I guess they didn't pack that stuff. I think I got everything else though."
"There is a new toothbrush in the drawer and everything you should need in the cabinet over the sink. If there is something you need or a brand you would rather have, just let me know. We usually shop on Saturday so make a list of anything you need and we can pick it up then."
We all met in the foyer of the apartment then headed out the door. The doorman hailed a taxi for us. Ryan gave directions to the driver, and we were off. At the restaurant Pat seemed overwhelmed by the choices and prices. We encouraged him to pick what he really wanted. I think it occurred to both Ryan and I at the same time that Pat probably had no idea what any of the items on the menu were. He likely hadn't been to a decent restaurant before -- if he'd ever been to one at all. Ryan and I discussed several items in great detail to give Pat the information without making him feel awkward. He seemed to listen intently as we discussed several of the menu offerings. Pat told us he hadn't heard of most of the things on the menu, but thought he knew what he'd like to try. Ryan ordered a couple of appetizers, salads for all of us, the entres we each selected then large glasses of milk for each of us. Ryan really like to be in charge.
Back at home I helped Pat put his things away. There really wasn't much to store, and most of what was there was badly worn. Pat mentioned that he had some ointment that he needed to put on and some new bandages. I got the bag for him and took out what he needed. I offered to help him, but he said he could do it himself. I left him to the business of preparing for bed and left telling him I'd be in to check on him in a little while.
Ryan and I were talking in the family room when Pat came into the room. He said,
"Jake.. can I talk to you for a minute... in private?"
"Sure you can."
I followed him to his room. He told me that it hurt to take off his bandages. I told him I would be happy to help him. He could have another pain tablet so I gave him one with a glass of water. I then helped him take off his shirts. The t-shirt was difficult because he had to raise his arm to get it off. I stretched the material to the limits to make it as painless as possible. He had an elastic bandage wrapped around his chest. Under that was another bandage that had to be changed. He had a few stitches just below his nipple. I tired to distract Pat as I removed the bandage and put a new one in place. I put the elastic wrap back around his chest making sure it wasn't too tight. I asked where the ointment was supposed to go. He told me that it was for his butt. He was reluctant to let me help at first, but finally gave in. I tried to calm him down by telling him he shouldn't be embarrassed about this. He unbuckled his own pants, but he was having difficulty bending down to remove them. I helped him take them off. His briefs were a very dingy gray and too small for his size. I helped him take them down and off his feet. I knew he was uncomfortable so turned him around so his back was to me. I'm glad he was turned away from me. The shock and horror that must have shown on my face wasn't something I wanted him to see. I couldn't believe how badly this poor child had been beaten. His bottom and upper thighs were a mass of crisscrossed welts. His butt was red in some areas and black and blue in others. There were two bandages covering what I suspected were the worst of the welts. There was some staining on both bandages. I honestly couldn't imagine how the poor kid could sit. He must have been in immense pain. I helped him lay face down on the bed then removed the bandages. I cleaned the area with a warn wash cloth then applied the ointment to the welts. This salve was supposed to ease the pain and promote healing. When I finished with the application of the ointment I told Pat that I was going to see if I could find a pair of pajama bottoms for him to wear. Once I had him dressed for bed I kissed him on the forehead. I told him that if he needed anything during the night he should just come to our room down the hall. I also let him know that if he was too sore to get up by himself he should just call me. I told him I'd leave both bedroom doors open so we could hear him.
"Good night, Pat. I'm glad you are here with us."
"Good nigh, Jake. Thanks for helping me. Your really nice."
I went back to find Ryan. He was concerned about Pat. I told him what Pat needed and how bad the beating was that he'd received. We sat talking about Pat and what we could do to help him. The most difficult part was not knowing how long he would be with us. Ryan believed that it would be at least a year with his mother's legal problems. He had learned that both adults were additionally charged with intent to distribute drugs because of the large quantity found in the apartment. Since this wasn't the first drug arrest for either individual Ryan believe that both would receive extended jail time with Jack likely going away for the longest period because of the additional charges. As we walked to our room we stopped in Pat's room to check on him. He was sleeping soundly. Ryan ran his hand through Pat's hair then bent down to kiss his forehead. Then Ryan whispered, "We're gonna help you little guy. You're our son now." I had tears in my eyes when he came back to me. I wanted Pat to see my tears of happiness just so he'd know it was true.
In the morning Pat was very stiff and sore. He managed to get himself out of bed, but it must have been a struggle. Ryan and I were in the kitchen. It was Friday morning and Ryan had clients. He expected to be home by mid afternoon barring any problems. We discussed taking Pat uptown to some clothing stores since he was badly in need of clothes that weren't ripped or torn or badly tattered. I could see the excitement in Ryan's eyes as he discussed that plan. Pat came into the kitchen and stood leaning against the counter. Ryan ruffled his hair and bid him a good morning as he donned his suit coat to head out the door. Ryan and I kissed and held each other before he left. I watched Pat as I kissed Ryan good bye. Pat's eyes got big as he watched us kiss.
I fixed breakfast for Pat and gave him another pain tablet. He ate everything I made for him, but didn't want more when I offered. I asked if he'd like to soak in the tub for a while. I told him that it would relax his muscles and take away some of the stiffness and soreness. He told me he'd try it. The apartment he lived in only had a shower so he hadn't ever taken a bath that he could remember. I took him down the hall towards my room. I told him I had a jacuzzi tub that he'd really like. I think he was a little hesitant to follow me into the room, but his fears seemed to subside as he slowly came into the bedroom and then the bathroom. I started to fill the tub then helped Pat remove the elastic wrap from his chest. I told him I would leave the room so he could take off his pajama bottoms and get settled into the tub. He told me that it really didn't matter since I'd seen him naked already, and he thought he'd need help removing the bandages on his butt. I poured some lavender bath oil in the tub along with some bath bubbles. When I got Pat settled comfortable I started the jacuzzi action. He was slightly startled at first, but was like a little kid as the pulsing water turned the tub into a sea of bubbles. I left Pat to soak while I went to take my morning shower. Both were in the same room, but far enough apart to give both of us some privacy. I knew Pat probably saw my naked backside, but I didn't put myself on display for him. I was trying to demonstrate that I was not ashamed of my body and that I was not a threat to him.
With a towel securely wrapped around my waist I offered to wash Pat's hair. I used a hand-held sprayer wand to wet his hair then applied shampoo. It was a little greasy so I suspected it hadn't been washed for a few days. I rinsed and shampooed it again before another rinse and an application of a hair conditioner. I then applied soap to the wash cloth and cleaned his back. I washed his neck as he giggled telling me that it tickled. I washed over the bandage on his chest. It was loose so I took it off. I used the wash cloth to wash his arms and chest and he giggled more as I tried to wash under his arms. I told him to finish washing the rest of his body as I got up to leave. I went into the bedroom to dress. When that task was finished I went to check on Pat. He as still in the tub so I asked,
"Are you ready to get out of the tub?"
"I can't right now. I guess I'll just sit here a little longer."
"Do you need some help getting out? I suppose it still hurts when you have to bend and twist your upper body."
"It's not that. I... well... I got a hard on when you were tickling me and well... it is still kinda hard."
"Pat, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to do that."
"Yea... I know that. Does that mean I'm gay? No one tickled me before. I didn't know it could make my dick hard."
"At your age just about everything can make your dick hard. I bet you get erections all the time. I use to get them in class sometimes and had to carry my books to hide it. It embarrassed me when that happened, but my dad told me that it happens to guys that age. It doesn't mean that you are gay. All of the research I have read over the years suggests that people are born gay or straight and nothing can change that. You could try to deny it or ignore it, but your sexuality is something you get at birth -- like the color of your eyes."
"Jack said I was turning into a fag. He said that cause I liked that show were the gay guys fix up a straight guy. He told me I was a fucking fag. He told me I even looked like a girl and wanted to be fucked like a girl."
"Pat... don't think about any of the things that Jack said to you. He is just an ignorant jerk who didn't know anything. Just because you liked to watch a show doesn't make you gay. It is actually a pretty funny show. I know lots of straight people who watch that show. Most of the people in my office talk about it the day after it's on TV. Some of the women even suggested that we should have the fab five do a make over on the Mayor. I also don't think you look anything like a girl. I've seen lots of girls. I have several sisters too. Believe me you don't look like any of them."
By the time we finished that conversation Pat had calmed down enough to get out of the tub. I helped him out and gave him a towel to wrap around himself. He asked if I would dry his hair for him so I did. That little bit of action got him stirred up again. He was tenting the towel that was wrapped around him. I didn't say anything about it and tried to act like I didn't notice it. Pat walked back to his room to get dressed. He came out with a t-shirt a short time later asking for help to get it on. He didn't have a shirt with buttons so we had to make due with this one.
Pat and I took a walk around the neighborhood. We stopped at a hair salon. I told Pat that I thought he could use a hair cut. He told me that his mom cut his hair. He claimed she did a good job if she wasn't too messed up, but two times he had to nearly shave his head cause she cut too much off one side or something. We went inside to get his hair cut. The wait wasn't too long so while we waited we looked through several magazines to find a style Pat liked. He found one that was popular with most young people -- that messy, spiked look. The woman washed his hair again then did the cut he wanted. When she was finished she styled it for him with some products she recommended he get. As I got up to pay I made sure we had a supply of whatever it was she used so he could recreate the style himself. As we left the salon Pat said,
"I know you get some money to take care of me, but I don't think it covers stuff like this. Since I'm your first kid you probably don't know that."
"Well actually I do know what the state pays for your care, but you need other things beyond that I think so don't worry about it. Ryan and I both make pretty good money so we can afford a few more things."
"I just didn't want you to get mad cause you spent your own money on me... then send me back."
"We aren't going to send you back, Pat. We both want you to be part of our lives. We both want to give you the chance to grow up in a healthy environment."
"Good! I like you guys. You are both really nice. No one's ever been this nice to me before."
"Well they should have been this nice to you."
We walked to the school I would enroll Pat in on Monday. We went to the administration office to request a tour. A student was assigned to show us around the building. The girl was very pleasant and seemed to take a liking to Pat. We saw some of the classrooms, the gym, and the cafeteria before going out to the area where kids were hanging out after their lunch. Before we left I made an appointment with the principal for Monday morning to get Pat registered and his records transferred. Pat seemed tired from the walk. When I asked him he told me that his butt hurt and his ribs were bothering him. I had the secretary call a taxi for us then proceeded out front to wait. Before long we were back home. I gave Pat another tablet for pain then started to make sandwiches for lunch. After lunch Pat napped until Ryan came home.
Ryan was more excited than anyone to shop. He just loved to help others less fortunate than himself. He had complete control of his trust fund now so didn't worry about anyone prying into his spending habits. Ryan and I rarely discussed money, I suppose that was because it was never an issue. We shared a joint account for our spending needs. Ryan was basically in charge of our finances, and I never questioned what he chose to do. My paycheck was directly deposited to our account so I only knew what funds were available when I went to get cash from the ATM. I was pretty frugal from years of scraping by. Having more money didn't cause me to want to over spend or spend lavishly on unnecessary items. I still shopped for bargains -- Ryan always bought what appealed to him.
As we exited the lobby of our building, Ryan's grandfather's driver was holding the door to the limo open for us. Pat's eyes were huge as he looked at the car. He asked with a tone of awe in his voice,
"Is that your car?"
"No. It belongs to my granddad. He isn't using it this evening so I thought I'd borrow it for our shopping trip."
We all climbed into the limo. Pat sat very close to me -- almost like he was afraid of the car. I think Ryan had just shocked him. It is important to know that Ryan wasn't trying to impress anyone with his or his family's wealth. He was just going out of his way to give a kid a thrill he'd never had before. Ryan liked to create magic of sorts -- to watch Pat's expression go from awe to amazement as he got his first ride in a limo. Pat was even in more awe as Ryan began to shop seriously for clothes for Pat. The clerks were tripping over themselves as Ryan had them fetching several styles and colors of pants and jeans for Pat along with shirts and shoes. Pat looked bewildered as clerks measured him and showed him to the dressing rooms to try on various items. It was time for the personal items -- underwear. The young woman asked if Pat had a preference for a certain brand or style. Pat pulled me aside to say he didn't know about his preference. He asked what I wore. I told him that I wore boxers and that Ryan wore boxers too. Pat told me he never had boxers but was thinking about trying them. He also told me that he felt weird talking about his underwear with a girl. I did my best to calm his embarrassment at having a female clerk help him pick out underwear then told her we'd take some briefs and boxers and boxer briefs as well as a few packages of t-shits and socks -- white and black and brown. When Ryan was finished with this shopping spree, Pat had a completely new wardrobe -- a wardrobe that would likely cover nearly every occasion. He wore his new sneakers and coat out of the store. We loaded the clothes into the trunk of the limo then went down the street to an electronics store. Pat was again in awe of the many things he saw. He and Ryan both raced around the store checking out all the latest gadgets. I stood back watching my two kids having fun. By the time we finished there, Ryan had picked out a computer for Pat, a stereo for his room, a portable CD player, several CDs, a TV, a DVD player, and an X-Box with three age-appropriate games. Since everything was in stock all of the purchases were loaded into the limo. Not only was the trunk full, but the inside of the limo as well. I was worried we'd have to take a taxi home because there wouldn't be room for us to sit. Our last stop before heading home was for pizza. Pat was too excited about all of the things in the limo to talk about anything else during dinner. Ryan was equally as excited. My kids...
Back in our apartment I hung up and put away Pat's new clothes while Ryan and Pat hooked up all the new electronic equipment. By the time we were finished it was late and we were all extremely tired. I helped Pat off with his clothes, gave him another tablet for pain, and applied ointment and new bandages then tucked him into bed. I told him to call or come to our room if he needed anything during the night then bent down to kiss his forehead. As I did he wrapped his arms around my neck and kissed me on the cheek. He told me he really liked and appreciated all his new things. Ryan came back into the room and ruffled Pat's hair as he wished him a good night. He too bent down to kiss his forehead as Pat wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed his cheek telling him he was the best foster parent any kid ever had. I could see the tears welling up in Ryan's eyes as we turned off the light and headed to our room.
All of the emotions Ryan and I were feeling expressed themselves in a very passionate session of love making. It was tender and so charged with all of the feelings we both had from the past few days. The sex we enjoyed that evening was our outlet and a renewed expression of our deep love for each other.
The next morning we heard Ryan in his room. He was up early inspecting all of his new things. He had the TV on low while he tired out his new games. I could also hear the stereo playing softly in the background. Saturday was our day to rise late and breakfast at a relaxed pace. Our only chore for the day was to do some grocery shopping. Pat came to the kitchen when he smelled the bacon. He had showered by himself and dressed in some of his new clothes. He looked so cute -- that stage when boys are changing from childhood to manhood. His voice cracked some when he was excited. It cracked nearly constantly last night at dinner and at home. He sat at the table then said,
"I didn't believe you the other day when you told me that you can cry from being too happy. I thought you were just full of shit -- umm, sorry... I mean crap or well just feeding me a line. It was the truth though. Last night after you guys left the room I cried because I was so happy. It was better than any Christmas or birthday I ever had. It was better than all of them put together and more. No body ever gave me so much stuff. I'm gonna hate to have to go back to my mom when she gets out of jail."
"I'm glad we could make you happy." Ryan said. "We were both happy to get you those things. They really are mostly all things you need. You just enjoy them and that will be thanks enough for me. Pat, I don't know if this is the time to talk about it or not, but you need to know that your mom is facing some very serious charges along with her boyfriend. I'm fairly certain both will have to spend some time in jail. I know that is probably upsetting to you, but I think it is important to be honest and upfront with you. Neither of us will ever lie to you, and we won't sugar coat the facts either. I know you love your mom, but the things they were involved with are serious."
"I kinda love my mom. I mean I remember when she wasn't so bad, and I love that person. I wish she never met Jack, and I wish she didn't do drugs. She was better when I was younger, but she always did stupid stuff. That's why I got taken away before -- because she did stupid things or didn't think about me at home alone. It's probably mean to think this, but I kinda want her to go to jail so maybe when she gets out she won't want to do drugs anymore."
"That is a very mature attitude to have Pat." I said. "There might be some difficult times ahead for you. One thing Connie mentioned is that you may have to testify at their trials if it comes to that. We don't have to think about that now though since that is likely several months away. If they are both smart they will plead guilty or enter into a plea agreement with the courts. In either case you are in a safe place now and don't have to worry about going back any time soon."
We shopped later that morning. We tried to get Pat to tell us things he liked, but he told us he would eat anything. I tired suggesting some strange items like liver and cow's tongue and pig's feet just to get a reaction out of him, but he told me whatever I made was fine with him. We certainly had an unusual kid on our hands. I thought all kids were picky eaters or at least had favorite foods. Pat seemed happy with whatever we suggested no matter how gross it seemed to me.
Back at the apartment I was in the den working on a speech for the Mayor. Pat came in to talk. He started with...
"What are you doing?"
"I'm writing a speech."
"Are you going to give a speech?"
"No... I'm writing a speech for the Mayor to give."
"So you tell him what to say?"
"Not quite. He tells me what he wants to talk about then I write a speech covering those points."
"Can I ask a question?"
"Sure... What would you like to know?"
"Well, it's kinda personal. Are you like the woman... you know with you and Ryan?"
"No... I'm a man with Ryan. Ryan is a man too. I guess you could say that we're each other's husband. That probably doesn't make a lot of sense to you. What brings us this line of question?"
"Well, you know on that show where the gay guys help the straight guy? The gay guys act pretty girly. You guys don't act that way so I was just wondering who you know... well... when you did it who got to be the guy and who got to be the girl. I ahh... I kinda heard you guys having sex last night. It didn't sound at all like when my mom and Jack did it. They always called each other names and yelled at each other and hit each other. I guess I thought that was the way sex was -- you know mean... like your s'posed to hurt the other person. I kinda heard you guys doin' it last night. It was so quiet though. I came to the door of your room so I could hear better. Please don't be mad that I did that. I know it isn't right 'cause sex is personal and all, but I just wanted to know. At first I thought the reason I couldn't hear you guys was 'cause this place is so big, but you didn't hit each other or yell at all. It was more like movie sex than real sex. I thought that movie sex was just a fantasy thing and not real."
"Pat... I don't know where to start..."
"Please don't be mad at me, Jake. I was just curious. I didn't mean to make you mad. You told me I could ask you anything I wanted."
"I'm not mad at all. I'm a little embarrassed that you heard us, but I'm not mad. I just didn't expect to be having the sex talk with you so soon. I certainly understand your curiosity. I was very interested in sex when I was your age so I guess that means you're a normal, healthy boy. Sex between two people shouldn't ever hurt either person. Sex is an expression of love and a lot of other emotions. Sex should be fun and something pleasurable for both people. People respond differently during sex too. Ryan tends to be louder and more talkative during sex than I am. Sometimes he is louder than at other times. I suppose that is a difference between us that makes sex between us better. When you are ready to have sex I think you will find that sharing that experience with the right person will make sex not only very pleasant for you, but also something you both enjoy doing for each other."
"How do you know when you're ready to have sex?"
"That is a difficult question to answer because there are so many factors involved in that decision. First you have to find the right person -- someone you love more than anyone else and someone you want to make happy. Then you have to both be open to the experience of sex with each other. Then you have to be responsible enough to deal with the outcomes. Some of those outcomes can be one of many diseases if you aren't using a condom. Another can be a pregnancy because that is how babies are made. If you aren't prepared to be a father to the baby and take emotional and financial responsibility for the child then you aren't ready to have sex. Another is also the responsibility for the feelings of the other person involved. Your partner might feel that by having sex you are making a commitment of love. If you don't feel the same way then you would be taking unfair advantage of her. Our bodies play a mean trick on us because we are physically able to have sex way before we are emotionally ready for all of the consequences of sex. At your age you most likely masturbate on a regular basis -- maybe daily or even several times a day. Your body can produce sperm, but right now you aren't ready to take care of a baby and all of the work that entails not only when the child is small and can't fend for itself, but all the way until that child is able to care for himself. Being a father is at least an 18 year commitment to raising the child."
"Thanks Jake for being honest. I promise I won't watch you guys having sex anymore. I was just curious is all. Ryan really liked having sex with you. He moaned just like in the movies -- 'cept he sounded like a guy and not a girl."
I tried to go back to work on the speech, but I couldn't stop thinking about the talk I'd just had with Pat. I couldn't believe I didn't close and lock the door before Ryan and I went to bed. That was the first time since Mike walked in that I hadn't bolted the door before anything happened. I was staring at the computer screen when Ryan came into the room. He asked,
"Writer's block?"
"No. I just had the first sex talk with Pat. I neglected to close the door last night and he heard us. He's a curious boy that one. He stood outside the door to listen to us make love. He said it sounded like movie sex so he came to check it out."
"What exactly is movie sex? He doesn't know you're hung like a Porn Star does he?"
"God, I hope not. He told me that he heard his mom and Jack have sex. He said they always called each other names, yelled, and hit each other. We were quieter and I guess more passionate because to him we sounded like two people in a movie having sex. Pat thought that was just a fantasy because it didn't match up with his experience."
"I wanted to have that talk with him." Ryan said as he used his best pouting look.
"I'm just glad that you didn't otherwise the poor kid would have more details than he needs right now. You know I think that jerk Jack really did a number on Pat. It seems like Jack didn't miss a chance to call him a fag or tell him he acted like a girl. I really don't see any of that so I think he was just doing it to be mean to him. I think Pat is more than a little insecure about his masculinity. At his age there is enough self-doubt and insecurity without some idiot like Jack adding to it by calling him names and insulting him daily. I think it would be a good idea if we took him to the park to do some guy things... maybe some basketball or Frisbee or something athletic -- besides he's been cooped up here all day and that can't be good."
"Actually I was just going to suggest we all get out of here for the afternoon. Great minds think alike!"
Pat started eighth grade at the new school. His records indicated that he had no real problems with his classes, but did have a very spotty attendance record. We discussed the importance of school with Pat so he knew what was expected. He worked very hard to meet those expectations. His grades improved as well as his attitude towards school. I think it helped that he was starting fresh in a place where he wasn't picked on and harassed by fellow students. Pat also presented me with a list of rules he thought were fair. I had completely forgotten about our rule discussion. Evidently he had been watching "Seventh Heaven" or some similar show because the rules he came up with were very similar to rules my parents had for us growing up. He had bed times listed for weekdays and weekends as well as many other aspects of life. Honestly his rules seemed very much like the informal arrangements we had in place. He knew he had to let one of us know if he wouldn't be home right after school. He also told us whom he would be with if he was out of the apartment. He always asked prior to bringing someone over to the apartment. Pat was a good kid without any real direction from us. When I asked him about this he told me that he just watched what Ryan and I did and tried to do things the way we did.
Pat's mother and Jack took plea bargains. It seemed that both had been additionally charged with two armed robberies in their neighborhood. Going to court on all the charges would have locked both away until they were old and gray. The plea deals still had them both locked up for at least ten years each. Ryan and I discussed adopting Pat. Ryan did all the preliminary work to be sure that his mother wouldn't pose any problems during the process. She really didn't seem to care much one way or another and signed papers giving Ryan and I the ability to adopt him. When we discussed this with Pat he was very anxious to be our son on a permanent basis. Since the mother approved and Pat had already been in our custody for nearly six months and doing very well during that time, the adoption was really a simple process.
Ryan was getting more involved in local politics. He was constantly discussing issues and formulating his positions. I knew this to be the start of his political career. He hadn't yet decided what position he was going to campaign for, but from the issues I suspected it would be as a state assemblyman. This election would likely mean a move to Albany on at least a part time basis. There was no question but that I would help with his campaign. I had never managed an election of this size so it would be critically important to have someone with that experience. I would be able to write speeches and coach his presentations. I had absolutely no doubt that Ryan would win the election. He had everything one wants in an elected official and rarely ever finds.
And with that you are up to date on our lives. I'm not certain where we all go from here -- only time will answer that question. I can tell you that wherever we go, we will go together -- my love and soul mate -Ryan, our son -Pat, and I -- the luckiest man in the world.
Thanks for reading my story. I sincerely hope you've enjoyed it.
Please share your comments and constructive criticisms with me at: dselliot28@yahoo.com
Other stories I've posted at Nifty...
"Confusion Rains" in the 'High School" section -- last updated April 27
"Walk in the Park" in the 'Beginnings' section -- last updated April 19
Thanks for reading my submissions!
Peace and Love.
ds elliot