Come Christmas Steve
Chapter 41
Didn't See that Coming
The next morning was crazy hectic with everyone trying to shower. Mom wouldn't have approved, but we doubled up in the upstairs shower. Billy and Steve showered together first and while they were drying off, Whittaker, Todd, and I jumped in. It was crowded in the small space and we bumped and rubbed against each other. I think it must have been the first time that Todd had seen Whittaker naked. He was staring aghast at Whittaker's amazing dangling specimen. I laughed and nudged him. "What you looking at?" I asked. It reminded me of being back in the dorms when Whittaker would wander around showing off his big dick.
"Umm, sorry. It's just..., I've never seen one that big, and I've seen a zillion dicks," Todd said.
"Well pull yourself together, rinse and move over to soap up," Whittaker told him. Todd quickly stepped out of the spray to soap up and wash his hair, or more precisely, his scalp. His hair was buzzed short like Steve's. Whittaker and I took turns soaping and rinsing, then Todd rinsed off and we all got out to dry off. By the time we all piled down the stairs, Mom was making threats that there would be no lunch for any of us if we made her late.
When we got to the Elks Lodge, the crowd was shockingly large. We weren't late, but there was still only chairs left near the front. It's strange to me how churches always fill up from the back first and the last rows to go are the front ones. Unlike a concert or a rodeo where the front rows go first.
We passed by Cheyenne and her little boy. The boy was sitting on the aisle and swinging his legs back and forth. Seeing me, he smiled and waved. I was sure he was remembering how I let him shoot the baskets at the Turkey Shoot, even though he had no tickets left. Kids get so much joy from little things in life. Adults should learn from that.
I noticed that Cheyenne was looking better than I'd ever seen her. She was in a new, light green dress, and she was even wearing some makeup. She'd curled and styled her hair instead of leaving it to droop over the sides of her face. She was sitting next to Shawna and Jaime. I wondered if the two of them had something to do with the makeover. Whittaker peeled off and went to sit in an empty chair that Shawna had saved for him.
Our group filled an entire row of seats. Pastor Nichols expressed his appreciation for all of the help with the fundraiser and announced that with the success of the Turkey Shoot, combined with some anonymous donors, there were enough funds to engage an architect for the new worship center. It was very exciting, and I was happy our family was part of it. I felt like we'd really found a spiritual home. I was so happy to be sitting next to Steve in church. I never dreamed I'd be able to share that part of my life with him.
Pastor Nichols centered his sermon on trusting in the Lord. He shared, with my permission, my experience of being troubled by my important plea bargain decision, and my feeling a need to counsel with him. He'd also cleared it with Colt and Mrs. Withers to share some experiences from the trial. Pastor Nichols told of how he'd felt compelled to drive all the way to Caspar in one night and meet with me in jail. All of that, he did on faith - not really knowing why he needed to come see me. He shared a small portion of our conversation in Caspar and the gut-wrenching decision I had to make.
"Shane was potentially facing decades, or even life, in prison," Pastor Nichols began. "He had a chance to take an eight year deal at a lower security facility that would be a safer environment for him. He knew he was innocent. He had decided to do the rational thing and take the deal. He prayed for guidance and wished in his heart that he could talk to me or his father about his decision. This turned out to be a faith promoting experience, not only for Shane, but for me as well."
He paused, getting a little emotional, and then carried on, "The Spirit of God wrought upon Shane's soul and showing great faith, Shane trusted those promptings. It was risky. Some would even say it was foolish. But Shane felt peace when he decided to reject the deal and fight the charges. As a living miracle, Shane is here amongst us today. Sometimes, my friends, we have to simply trust in those promptings we receive from God. He loves us completely and just like a loving parent here on earth, he can't always protect us, but when he can, he will try."
Steve had tears sliding down his cheeks. He wrapped his fingers into mine and I leaned into him. I felt chills. I felt blessed. The rest of the sermon centered on trusting God. Steve loved the music and the sermon. Afterwards we filed out and the crisp November air prickled the lungs. There were leftover patches of snow on the yellowing grass that we spilled out onto. The congregation's atmosphere was lively and festive. I was getting so excited for the coming holidays. Billy invited Jaime over to celebrate Thanksgiving at our ranch, and Whittaker invited Shawna. Mom asked Cheyenne if she had somewhere to go for Thanksgiving.
"No, Ma'am. I have to work that morning at the hospital, so I'll just have my sitter bring my boy over and we'll eat there at the hospital," she answered.
"What time do you get off work?" Mom asked her.
"At one," Cheyenne answered.
"Well, we'd love to have you join us. We won't be eating until three. Please come," Mom offered.
"I don't want to impose. I'm sure you have a large group already," Cheyenne responded.
"We do, and two more, well one and a half more, won't make any difference. It's settled. We'll see you shortly after one o'clock." Cheyenne thanked her and admitted it would be nice to share the holiday with a family. She commented that she'd never done that in her whole life.
As the week progressed, preparations for Thanksgiving heated up. We cleaned out the barn and setup cots for all us guys and the boy cousins who were coming. They would be with us through the weekend. We had a sledding and tubing trip planned over at Lawrence Park on Saturday. Steve was really excited for that. He remembered how much fun we'd had doing that together at Christmastime. We cleaned out the shop and setup tables. It was the only place large enough to seat everyone.
On top of that, we kept busy with the sprayer business. Whittaker devoted most of his time to that. I helped with the business and also helped show Steve and Todd what to do on the ranch. Steve and Todd worked eight full hours a day winterizing the equipment, mending fences, and doing the daily chores with the animals.
Wednesday, after everything was setup, Billy announced he was going to visit Jaime. "Mind if we join you?" Steve asked.
Billy smiled. "Not as long as you get your own room," he answered.
"Oh we'll definitely get our own room," I stated. We let Dad know we would be gone a while and climbed into the truck. As we drove into town, Steve remarked how he could never get used to the beauty of our valley. We stopped at Wal-Mart to get condoms for Billy and lube for Steve and I. I thought Billy might tease us, but he didn't. He totally accepted that we were lovers, and it didn't bother him at all.
Wal-Mart had their "Giving Tree" up already. Steve pulled me over to it. "We have to do this again," he said. Billy didn't really want to. He was anxious to go pick up Jaime and get on with the purpose of our trip.
"C'mon, Billy," Steve chided. "It won't take that long. You'll still have plenty of time to get your rocks off with Jaime. Now pick out a kid and let's go buy them something."
We each selected a child's wishing star off of the tree and read their age and a couple of things they liked. We grabbed a cart and headed out to make our selections. It was fun. Billy really got into it once we started, and he chose a pirate ship with cannons that actually shot miniature cannonballs for the little boy he'd selected. Steve purchased a doll and some clothes for a little girl. I bought a fishing pole and tackle box for a young teen who liked fishing. I hoped he liked ice fishing or it would be a while before he could enjoy his present around Kalispell.
"That was fun," Steve said. "The coolest part is that I bought it all with money I earned myself." I smiled at that and realized how many things Steve had never done that most kids with a normal family take for granted. I felt like it would be an adventure watching him experience many things for the first time.
"I agree. That was fun. I think I'll take Jaime here on Saturday and do it again with her," Billy added.
We picked Jaime up, and she was surprised, and a little amused, to see me and Steve in the truck. We each rented our own rooms and only paid for one hour. The clerk didn't bat an eye over Steve and I renting a room together. Maybe, we weren't the only gay couple doing it. We headed to our rooms and I'd no more than shut the door than Steve was grabbing for me.
We practically ripped our clothes off and headed for the shower. Steve was pretty dirty and stinky from working around the ranch all day. It was nice to be naked in the shower together and to have his strong hands roaming all over my naked body. When we finished, we were both boned up solid. We dried off and headed straight to the bed. Foreplay consisted of some kissing and hurried fondling, and then Steve took charge. He was extremely horny and on a premeditated mission. He fumbled with the lube we'd purchased to get it free from the packaging. I was lying on my back and stroking his stiff bone while he was messing with the lube.
Once he extracted it from the packaging, he lubed up my dick instead of his and then dobbed some in his ass. He straddled me and directed himself down onto my engorged shaft. He dropped down onto it, impaling himself with a satisfied moan. "Switching roles today, are we?" I asked.
"Do you mind?" he replied.
"Not at all. Feels good," I answered. "I like you taking charge."
He smiled. "I got the feeling, you know?"
"I know, I know. It was so hard in jail, worrying that it might be years before we'd get to lie together again and make love like this. If I'd taken the eight year deal, think how long it would have been before we could be together?" I mused.
"That scares me," Steve said. "I really love what Pastor Nichols shared last Sunday. I'm proud of you for having the courage to reject the plea agreement and fight the charges. I doubt I would have been so brave."
"I was scared. Really scared. At times during the trial, I felt like I'd made a huge mistake, but I just kept feeling peace whenever I thought about it. I just knew it would be okay somehow, and if it didn't work out, there would be a reason for it."
It seemed odd to be having such a deep discussion while my manhood was buried so deep into my lover. It wasn't exactly pillow talk. I reached up and caressed his broad chest with my left hand, while I gently stroked his silky erection with my right. His balls were pressed against my pubes. I looked up at him and smiled. "I love you," I said softly.
"I love you too," he echoed. "I think this is going to work out between us."
"I think so too," I agreed.
He leaned down and kissed me tenderly. Then he sat back up and wiggled around on my firm shaft. He started riding me and I resumed stroking him. He squeezed my shaft by clenching his sphincter muscle as he rose and fell, intensifying the experience for me. He leaned a little further back, adding tension to my erect penis and sped up with a little urgency. His neck flexed and I could see the veins start to protrude. "Ah, ah, ah," he gasped with each downward thrust until he rocked backwards and shot his warm semen over my chest and neck. Some landed on my chin and I licked it. It was tangy and warm. He rolled us over so that I was on top and he said, "Now I want you to fuck me, Shane. Pound me."
And fuck him I did. I started pounding his ass in wild abandon, eyes closed, teeth clenched. "Yes! Yes!" he cried out. He didn't lose his erection, even though he'd already shot his load. My pounding on his prostate gland kept him erect. He lifted his legs and wrapped them around my back. He clutched at the bedsheets while I lustfully drove myself in and out of him. I crested and moaned, "Cum, Shaney, cum."
When it was over, I fell onto him and we kissed and swapped tongues. His cum was slippery and sticky at the same time, gluing us together. I suddenly slipped out of his ass with a small pop and we giggled over it. Then we kissed some more. I traced my finger across his lips and smiled sweetly at him. He smiled back, "That was incredible. Thanks," he whispered.
"Thank you," I responded. "I hate to say this, but we need to get showered up and head out. Our hour is almost up."
"That sucks," Steve said. "I could lay here naked with you all day."
"Someday, my love. Someday, we will be able to do that," I answered.
Steve and I were all smiles on the way home. Good sex just makes me happy inside. Billy and Jaime seemed a little edgy, though. I wondered if they'd had some kind of disagreement.
When we got home, Nicolas's family had arrived and so had my brother, Tom. Tom and I hugged and I thanked him for all his help with my case. He played it off, but Adam had told me how much background work Tom had done for the case. Tom said he wanted some time together to hear my side of things about being in jail and what it was like to be falsely accused. He wanted a client's perspective on the kind of things that would interest a budding attorney. Plus, as loving brother, he was genuinely interested in how I was a doing.
I went over to Nicolas when he was alone and apologized to him. "I'm sorry I told my friend about what you taught me as kids. I never dreamed it would ever get repeated, especially in court," I said.
"Yeah, you little fucker. When this fed showed up and started into asking me shit, I was like, 'Whoa, what the fuck?'"
"I imagine you did. I am really sorry."
"Nah, it's all good now. It's over and done with, and no one really give a shit about it, anyway. He extended his fist and we bumped knuckles." Then he bluntly asked, "So you're gay, huh?"
"Yeah. I'm gay."
"Is it my fault?" he asked. He was dead serious.
"No," I chuckled. "It's not your fault. I've always been gay. You don't become gay - you're either born gay or you're not."
"Oh. Kind of like how we both got the Steele chin?" he asked.
"Yeah. Like that, I guess. It's all in the chromosomes," I told him.
"Hmm. So you're a chromo-sexual," he joked. I laughed along with him. I had to admit, that was pretty funny. Usually Nicolas's jokes were either crude or rude or both. Nicolas was what my mom would call "a handful."
"I guess you could say that," I agreed.
"Well if a Steele's number was due up to get the gay chromos, I'm glad it was you instead of me. I like pussy way too much," he said.
"Glad I could take one for the team then," I told him.
"You da man, dude," he joked, then gave me another fist bump. I got called on to go help setup chairs out in the shop. Nicolas got up and came to help, which ended our conversation and I was glad to have that bit of awkward business out of the way. The apology had gone okay. I still needed to talk to his little brother and clear the air with him. I promised my mom that I'd talk to both of them so there wouldn't be any uncomfortable situations over the holiday weekend.
Karl and his wife, Cynthia, showed up late. Karl had worked a half day. I had to miss their wedding because I was in jail awaiting trial when they got married. I congratulated them on their marriage and they were both very gracious. They expressed how thankful they were that everything worked out for me. They seemed so deliriously happy together. They were still totally wrapped up in each other and touched and kissed all the time. I wondered how long it would be before I'd become a gay uncle.
We had a nice dinner together. It was simple because the big feed was the next day. Mom pressured Steve into strumming some chords on the guitar. Mom played the piano and we sang some Christmas songs. Thanksgiving was sort of the official time that it was okay to start celebrating Christmas at our house. Afterwards, we all separated for our sleeping quarters. Karl and Cynthia got the "lovers bungalow" that Whittaker and Todd vacated. All the single boys headed for the barn and crawled into our sleeping bags and under Mom's heavy quilts, which she'd laid out for us. It would get seriously cold during the night.
We chatted a bit. Tom shared some funny stories from Dartmouth. Nicolas and his brother Daniel got telling dirty jokes. Some were funny, but most of them were not. Steve, Todd and I didn't share much. Whittaker got talking about my dad's invention and some of that was interesting. Then Nicolas said,
"Hey, here's a joke for Shane and Steve."
"Oh my god, really?" I asked.
"You'll like it. It's good. Hey, I been telling straight jokes all night, I gotta do some gay ones for equal rights," he spouted.
"Go on then," I groaned. "Get it over with."
"So these two condoms are walking down the street in San Francisco, right? And one condom says to the other one, 'Let's go in that gay bar over there and get shitfaced.'" Daniel laughed, and Nicolas laughed, but no one else did.
"Okay. Okay. If you don't like that one, here's one you gotta like."
"Seriously, Nicolas?" I said.
"Hold on. You'll like this one. I promise you'll laugh. If you don't laugh, Daniel here will give you a blowjob," Nicolas said.
"Fuck I will," Daniel objected.
"Okay. So did you hear they're doing a remake of that old TV comedy show 'Leave It to Beaver'?" Nicolas paused for us to prompt him to finish.
"Nope," I said. "What about it?"
"Yeah, they are. Only, it's going to be a little different. The brothers on the show are both gay and they're changing the title."
"How are they changing the title?" I asked, playing along.
"They're calling it, 'Leave It, It's Beaver.'" I actually laughed at that one. It caught me off guard and was actually a little bit clever. Unfortunately, that encouraged him.
"So do you know why gay guys can't drive over 68 miles an hour?" Nicolas asked.
"No, why?" Steve asked this time.
"Because when they do 69, they blow a rod."
"Okay, that's enough of those," Tom said.
"All right. Here's a lawyer joke for you then," Nicolas said. "If a lawyer and an IRS agent were both drowning and you could only save one of them, would you go to lunch or check your email?"
"Ha-hah," Tom said. "I've heard them all."
"Yeah, whatever. You know you liked them. So what're we doing in the morning, besides freezing our nards off when we climb out of bed?" Nicolas asked.
"Chores," I said. "Everything has to get done in the morning before things get going for the big feed."
"Okay, I'm tired," Tom said. "How about we all try and get some sleep." There was common agreement and we started drifting off. Nicolas pinched his cheek and started making fapping noises.
"Oh my god, Nicolas," Tom groaned. "Knock it off. What are you thirteen?"
"It wasn't me," he claimed. "I think it was coming from over there. Someone move their cot between Steve and Shane so we can all get some sleep tonight."
"You're about as funny as a blind Jewish Mohel," Steve said. Only Tom and Todd started laughing. The rest of us didn't get it.
"Huh?" Nicolas asked. "I don't get it."
"Look it up in the morning," Steve told him. One by one the rest of us slipped under our covers and googled Jewish Mole. It corrected it to Mohel and one after another we all busted up laughing. That finally shut Nicolas up and we fell asleep. All except me. I was reliving the amazing sex I'd had with Steve at the motel.
Billy had been strangely disconnected from the conversation. I was even more convinced that he and Jaime must have had a disagreement. He'd been on his cell phone all night. Out of curiosity, I slipped the phone from his fingers as he slept. I checked the text messages from Jaime. There was no clue, and in fact, they hadn't communicated at all since earlier that day at the motel. I felt guilty for intruding and clicked out of messages. The internet site he'd been searching came up when I closed messages, and I looked to see what he'd searched on. It was an article on menstrual cycles. I chuckled to myself. I figured his irritation must have been from Jaime being on the rag and refusing him entry. He probably had to settle for a hand job or blowjob, perhaps. He was still so immature in many ways.
The morning was crazy cold, and we did in fact freeze our nards off when we had to get up and dress. We all pitched in to get the chores done and by noon, they were finished. Billy showered first and took off to collect Jaime, Shawna, and Cheyenne with her little boy. The upstairs bathroom was designated as the men's room and the downstairs bathrooms were for the ladies. There were two bathrooms downstairs.
Guys were in and out of the upstairs bathroom and in various states of undress, showering and getting ready for the big meal. I got in the shower just as my dad got out and it was the first time in many years I'd seen him naked. I was fascinated that we basically had the same shaped penis - a smaller dickhead than shaft. I Googled it later on and found out that either parent could pass on the genes for that kind of physical characteristic. It was called a phenotype. It could even come from generations back, and it could be affected by external factors as well, such as the level of testosterone in the mother's system during gestation. I wondered if Whittaker's mom had been on steroids while she carried him.
Whittaker's parents and sister arrived around two o'clock to join us. Whittaker was excited to have them there and his sister was friendly and engaging. The last touches were being put on the dinner. The women were busy in the kitchen and no men were allowed. Most of the guys were jammed into the family room watching football. Billy arrived with Jaime, Shawna, Cheyenne and her boy. The little boy made friends with two of my older cousin's kids and they went off exploring the animal pens until it was time to eat. Once we all gathered in the shop, which had been converted to a dining hall, my father got everyone's attention and said grace.
In his prayer, he thanked the Lord for our many blessings and for the miracles our family had received. He asked for a blessing on the less fortunate and prayed for us to be able and willing to see their need and render comfort. After the prayer, Mom insisted that before we could dig in, we had to each say what we were thankful for.
When it came around to our table, Todd went first. "I'm thankful to the Steele's for their generosity in letting me stay with them until I can get a permanent job."
Steve went next. "I'm thankful to be alive and freed from the shackles of my past. I'm especially thankful to Shane and Whittaker for making both of those things possible."
Whittaker stood up and said with all sincerity, "I'm thankful to know Shane. I'm thankful for his kindness and his example of loyalty and courage. Shane gave me the courage to find myself and be a better person."
Shawna went next and said, "I'm thankful that Shane got me introduced to David. His friendship is a wonderful blessing to me." All of that made me smile and feel really good.
At the next table, Billy was thankful for Jaime and Jaime was thankful for Billy. Not a big surprise. Cheyenne shyly said, "I'm thankful for my son, who gives my life meaning and purpose."
Everyone finally finished with their thankful comments and Nicolas asked, "Can we eat now?"
Dad declared it open season and everyone started dishing up. The food was as phenomenal as ever, and I realized with each bite, how blessed I was, and how blessed we all were as a family. Things couldn't have been any better. After stuffing ourselves with the amazing meal, we all agreed to put off having dessert until later. The guys helped clear the tables and the teens and young adults all helped with the cleaning up of the kitchen and washing dishes.
Whittaker and his mom went back out to the shop and sat together with Shawna at a corner table. They were engrossed in a seemingly serious conversation. I couldn't help but wonder if they were discussing Whittaker and Shawna getting serious with each other. It would be like Whittaker to keep that private from me. I was curious as a cat, but didn't want to intrude. Steve had gotten involved in an extensive conversation with Cheyenne, and they walked together out near the animal pens so that her little boy could pet the sheep and feed some scraps to the pigs while they caught up. I supposed they were reliving their experiences back at the corrupt boys home. Billy and Jaime were off taking a long walk together, probably to find a place to make out. So Todd and I found ourselves oddly partnered up since neither of us had much interest in watching the football games.
Walking out to the barn, Todd asked me, "How are things with you and Steve?"
I was immediately defensive. "Why do you ask that?"
"Just wondering. No need to get all freaked. Steve just hasn't said much about you and him since we've been here. He talked about you all the time back at the prison," he explained.
"Things are good between us. We love each other," I answered as we entered the barn. I was glad to hear he'd been talking about me.
Todd wanted to see the rope swing that Steve had told him about. We climbed up to the loft and I let him try swinging on it a few times. He liked it and was good at it right off.
"Are you in love with Steve?" I asked as we sat on a bale of hay.
"I'm not a threat to you," he answered. "I know you think that, but I'm not."
"That's not what I asked," I told him. He smiled at me.
"I know," he said. "But I thought I'd cut straight to the question you really wanted to ask."
"Okay, maybe that was my reason for asking, but I still want to know if you're in love with him," I said.
"I guess I love him, but not like you're meaning it. We went through a lot together at the fucked up boys home. We had a ton of sex with each other and we had each other's backs. I imagine it's a tiny bit like being soldiers. Those guys love each other but they don't really LOVE each other. They just bond in a unique way because of what they go through together."
"But you and Steve did make LOVE to each other. That's a big difference," I argued.
"We never really made love. We had sex. Sometimes it was a performance for the cameras, sometimes it was forced on us, and sometimes it was just recreation. It was never really making love like how you're implying it."
I pondered that. It was a similar thing that Steve had said to me. I guessed I couldn't really understand it since I'd never experienced anything like they'd been through. I didn't fully understand how to separate sex and emotion. Even when I'd done it with Nicolas as a boy and with Whittaker, there was some level of emotion involved. Steve and Todd made it sound like picking your nose. "Do you think Steve and I have a chance to make a relationship work?" I asked.
"I would have said no, a while ago. Steve was a hardened cynic with a fierce sense of right and wrong and he had been wronged so much. I don't think he had the capacity to love. I'm not sure if I do either. Finding out that asshole, Judge Arty, was actually his biological father sent Steve into a really dark place. Arty used to do us, for God's sake, and he wasn't gentle about it. Then he'd just toss us back into the home. How does that not screw with your head? But that preacher guy in Yankton really had an effect on Steve. Plus your love for him and how much you risked for him. He never really wrapped his head around why you'd do that. That all softened him up a lot, and he's doing tons better."
"I feel so bad for Steve. I wish I knew how to help him," I said.
"You have helped him. Your persistent meddling ended up being the best thing that ever happened to Steve and me. I'll tell you this, Steve feels really indebted to you," Todd said.
"So, Steve told me we needed to take things slow to get to know each other better before we commit. Is he just doing that because he feels indebted to me?" I asked, fearful of what the answer would be.
"No. Steve wouldn't do that. He hates that kind of thing. He's a straight shooter. He always does what he thinks is the right thing. If he says he wants to take some time, he means it. He's not just fucking with your emotions. He has feelings of love for you. He's told me that. He's just not going to trust his feelings, or yours for that matter, without being very sure," Todd explained. "Trust comes really slow when you grow up like we did."
I felt so much better with that explanation. "Thanks for sharing that with me. I have to confess, I never really liked you that much. But you seem okay," I admitted.
Todd smiled. "Yeah, I know. You almost had Whittaker break my fucking neck, back at MSU. I wasn't too big of a fan of you or him back then."
I smiled also. "I guess not."
"It's crazy the way things turn out sometimes. Things you never expect," I mused.
"That's for sure," Todd agreed. "What'll you do if this trial period thing with Steve doesn't work out for some reason?"
"I don't know," I answered. "I don't have a plan B. What are you planning to do with yourself?"
"Find a job. Get an education. Eventually find someone to spend my life with, I hope. I'm not rushing into that decision either. Just like you and Steve. Well..., Steve. I'm guessing you'd marry up with Steve tomorrow, if he'd say okay. Am I right?"
"You're right. I would. I guess I shouldn't be so impetuous like that. It has kind of gotten me into trouble in the past," I admitted. We took some more swings on the rope and then headed back to the house. Steve and Cheyenne were still talking together. I asked Todd, "Did you know Cheyenne when she was at the boys home?"
"Sure. She worked in the kitchen. Steve talked her into sneaking us food. He shared it with me," he answered.
"They were friends?" I asked.
"Not really, I don't think. I don't really know. Steve was helping her with something. Classes maybe. Steve's really smart and I think she might have been going to night school or something. Steve's a good guy. He's a sucker for an underdog."
"I know. He helped me when I needed it most," I said. We went in and watched football with the other guys after that and arrived just in time for the pie and ice cream. I saw Steve come in and go upstairs, so I finished my pie, took the plate to kitchen sink, and went up to find him. As I was climbing the stairs, Billy announced that he was taking the girls back home in a bit, and he was going to hang out at Jaime's place for a while. He didn't mention that it was his dick that was going to be doing the hanging out. I found Steve sitting on Billy's bed - the one they were sharing. He was staring out the window in deep thought. "Can I come in?" I asked.
Steve looked over at me slowly, then motioned me in with a slight nod. I walked over and sat down next to him. "Did you and Cheyenne have a nice chat?"
"I guess," was all he said.
"Okay. Did talking about the boys home with her bring back some sad memories or something?" I pried.
"Not really."
"Okay. So, Billy's taking all the girls back home and then he's hanging out with Jaime for a while. I'm sure they have more than just hanging out planned. Made me think that maybe you'd like to go work off some calories too. Interested?" I asked. I was hopeful.
"No. Not today," Steve declined. "Sex, sex, sex. Shit Shane. Can't you think of anything else?"
"God, I'm sorry. I just...." I felt the burn of disappointment welling up.
"Listen," he said, looking me in the eye. I was dying to know what had him so sullen, but I didn't dare pry any further because I knew how much he hated that. He'd share when he was ready to share. He finished his sentence, "Cheyenne told me about an entry level job at the hospital accounting office. I'm going to go apply on Monday."
"Why? You still have work here you can do," I said.
"We both know it's mostly made up work at this point. Todd can handle it. I need to be thinking longer term and it's local. It's what I need to do," he said.
"Okay. That's all part of our plan, right? You get a job and a place here and then when the time is right, we move in together and all the rest just like you planned."
"Right. Just like I planned," Steve said flatly.
"What do you want to do instead of going with Billy and Jaime?" I asked.
He looked back out the window a minute and then he looked at me. "Eat some pie and ice cream, hang out with you, practice on my guitar, and not think about anything beyond today."
"Great. I'm good with that. What kind of pie? I'll get you some," I offered.
"Surprise me," he said. If your mom baked it, it's my favorite." I smiled and leaned over to kiss him. He let me and it was just a smooch. He didn't turn it into anything more. I was okay with it, though. After talking with Todd, I had a different perspective on Steve's emotions. Something was bothering him and sooner or later, he'd tell me. Or he wouldn't, and I wouldn't pitch a fit either way. I was determined not to repeat that mistake.
The evening turned out nice. Steve slowly came out of his funk, whatever it was about. We hung out a long time in my room and he played the guitar while I listened. We chatted and shared our experiences since we'd been separated and grew somewhat philosophical.
"Have you ever played the game, 'would you rather'?" Steve asked me.
"Yeah, why?"
"Just wondering." Then he asked, "Would you rather be thought of as foolish but courageous or would you rather be considered wise but cowardly?"
"Can't you be wise and courageous?" I asked.
"No. Well, sometimes, but usually you have to be a little foolish to do courageous things. It is not wise for a fireman to run into a burning building to try and save someone," he explained.
"True, but just because someone does something unwise, doesn't necessarily mean he doesn't know that it's unwise. He just does it anyway because he's willing to take the risk in order to save a life."
"Okay," Steve agreed. "But what if he knew he had no chance to survive himself?"
"If he has no chance to save anyone and goes in anyway, then that's just foolish pride. He just wants to be a martyr. But if he knowingly sacrifices his life, expecting that his sacrifice will save others, then that is the highest form of courage to me," I said.
"Why did you do it, Shane?" Steve asked. His voice broke.
"Do what?" I asked.
"Why did you put yourself at such risk to try and find me?"
"I kept looking for you because I love you, and it was just the right thing to do," I answered.
"I wasn't worth it," he muttered. "It cost that Calvin kid his life and nearly ruined yours. You and Whittaker almost got yourselves killed by the river. I'm just an orphaned bastard who grew up so callous that I was willing to let other kids be exploited the same way I'd been. I didn't want to risk my chance for an education and a better life by exposing my asshole old man and his child sex ring. Doesn't that scare you about me?" he asked, choking out the words.
I slid up next to him and put my arm around him. "That's not true. There was never one more deserving of being rescued. You're a good man with a good heart, in spite of a horrible childhood. Do you remember the time you found me in the barn after my meltdown last Christmas?" I asked.
He shook his head in acknowledgement. "There's something you told me about the many boys who came and went through the boys home. You said so many of them couldn't love others because they never learned to love themselves. That helped me realize that I needed to end my one man pity-party. Then you shared that poem about the woods. Hand me my Robert Frost book," I requested.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
"You told me that meant we have to go on. We can't just lie down and give up," I said. "I want to read you another one."
I had withdrawn in forest, and my song
Was swallowed up in leaves that blew alway;
And to the forest edge you came one day
(This was my dream) and looked and pondered long,
But did not enter, though the wish was strong:
You shook your pensive head as who should say,
I dare not--too far in his footsteps stray--
He must seek me would he undo the wrong.
Not far, but near, I stood and saw it all
Behind low boughs the trees let down outside;
And the sweet pang it cost me not to call
And tell you that I saw does still abide.
But 'tis not true that thus I dwelt aloof,
For the wood wakes, and you are here for proof.
"What are you saying?" Steve asked.
"Don't you see how it fits us?" I asked. "We were separated and blown about like leaves in the wind of corruption and deceit. We couldn't even communicate with each other and every attempt I made was blocked. Now we're together in sight of each other. You're at the forest edge and I'm hiding in the trees. You don't dare risk coming into the woods for fear of being good enough for me, and I don't dare invite you, for fear of rushing you into something you're unsure of. But 'tis not true that thus I dwelt aloof, for the wood wakes, and you are here for proof."
"I'm here," Steve agreed. "But I'm still so unsure of everything. I'd be a liar to deny it."
"You're too mental. I kind of get why it's hard for you to trust your heart with what you've lived through. You have to analyze everything. Here, read this one," I pointed out another poem by Frost about the heart and the mind. It basically said that you can't always let the head make your decisions. Sometimes you have to trust your heart.
"Does it hurt your feelings after all you've done for me and with how easily you love me, that I struggle still?" Steve asked.
"It hurts. I don't think it hurts my feelings. It's just hard, and scary. It scares me that something will happen that will drive you from me or keep us apart. That's not something I want to have to accept and move on from. From a logical perspective, it makes perfect sense what you've proposed," I said.
He didn't respond so I went on, "I believe whatever is right will end up happening. We didn't go through all of this shit for no good reason and whatever that reason is, it will be for the best. When I was in jail, facing the big decision on whether to take the plea deal or not, I prayed to know what to do. I got the definite feeling that I was supposed to learn something from it all. One of the things that made me take the risk of a trial was the fear that if I was gone for eight years, I might lose you forever," I admitted.
"Oh, man. That makes it worse. How can you be so damned sure of things?" he asked.
"Have you ever prayed?" I asked.
"Not really. I only recently started to accept the possibility of God existing."
"Try it," I suggested. "Tonight, after everyone else falls asleep. Ask God if he loves you and if you are worthy of being loved. Then, ask if it's right for us to be together and see what you feel. Don't even tell me what answer you get in your heart. No pressure that way. Just trust what comes to you."
"I'll try." Steve grew ponderous. "Can you ask anything?"
"I think so. Anything you want help with, I guess."
After a few minutes of completely comfortable silence, sitting side by side and holding hands, Steve suggested we go downstairs and socialize. We ended up playing poker with Nicolas and Whittaker and a couple of my uncles. Steve was surprisingly good at it. I guessed he'd played in the boys home.
The following morning, Steve and I found each other. We spent the day playing games, eating leftovers, and doing the mandatory chores. We put the shop back together and Dad, Whittaker and I did what few essential items needed to get taken care of for the business. In the afternoon, Steve and I had some quiet time together. We bundled up and went for a walk.
"Did you pray?" I asked.
"Yes. I prayed. After everyone fell asleep, like you suggested. It was awkward. I just held my palms upward like the preacher guy at the prison did and spilled my guts."
I smiled. "Interesting way of putting it," I said. "Did you get some answers?"
"Some. I guess. I just had some thoughts come to mind. I got a bunch of additional questions, too. I know I have to do something. I still don't know exactly what I should do," he confided. "It's really complicated."
"That's good though, right?" I asked. "You got some direction."
"I guess," he responded. I could tell he was still deeply troubled. "I feel like God loves me now. So I guess I have to learn to love myself. So that part's pretty good. I had such a warm feeling when I asked to know if he was there and if he loved me. The rest of it was..., complicated."
"That's really, really good." I desperately wanted to pry, but I'd promised not to. It nearly killed me to change the subject, but I did. "Are you still planning on trying to get the job at the hospital?"
"Yes. I really want that. I need to have my own job and stop relying on others so much. This gives me a chance to do that and still stay in town," he answered.
"Good."
We stopped at the big oak tree and I shared with Steve the beating I'd experienced at the hands of the Sheriff. Steve got really angry, but I told him that I'd forgiven Sheriff Withers and actually felt sorry for him now. I explained that it was kind of like what he'd told me about his mother, who'd abandoned him. We don't know their personal demons or what was driving them to do what they did. I think it's the same with Sheriff Withers. I'm sure he'd been abused as a boy somehow because of what he'd said to me before beating me up. He was genuinely afraid that I was trying to do to his son what had been done to him.
"My mother did what she thought was best for me. At least, I'd like to think that," Steve said. "I don't think you can say that same thing about the Sheriff beating the crap out of you."
"True. I still don't want to hate him for it. Hatred and anger only eats at me inside. I'm the loser in that deal. I just want to move on from it. In the end, I'm the victor and he's getting his own reward. It's sad really, when you think of all he's lost - all because he couldn't be honest with himself and just sacrifice his own sexual needs for the sake of the family he created."
"Hmm," Steve pondered. "Interesting thought. Sacrifice isn't easy. In fact, it sucks."
"No, it's not easy. We always want what we want and giving that up for the sake of others is hard to do," I agreed. "But making sacrifices is what proves true character."
After chores on Saturday, we went to Lincoln Park and had a sledding and tubing party. The girls came and joined us. Whittaker and Shawna rode on a tube together and hit a bump. They went flying off and Whittaker landed on top of Shawna practically nose to nose. I thought they might kiss, but they didn't. They did start laughing like a couple of grade school kids, though. It reminded me of the time that happened at Christmastime between me and Steve. I remember the look in his eye. The first time I recognized a spark of love for me. The time I thought he might just lean in and kiss me. I smiled at the memory.
Cheyenne was there with her boy and he immediately sought out my cousins who were close in age and they all had a great time playing together in the snow. Steve and I helped them make a snowman and we had a snowball fight with them. We even piled them all on the toboggan with us and rode down the hill several times. I was surprised that Steve actually initiated the interaction with Cheyenne's boy and the cousins. He seemed at ease around the young boys, in spite of his prior aversion to them. I guess the fear of being misunderstood about his motives in such a public setting was gone. Steve held Cheyenne's boy up and let him stick a carrot in the snowman's face for a nose and then the boy twisted himself into position to give Steve a huge hug around the neck. Steve clearly enjoyed making the boy happy. I was hopeful that kind of interaction would be good therapy for Steve in getting over his past.
At dusk, we lit a fire in the fire pit and cooked up two big cauldrons of hot chocolate and coffee. Mom broke out a box of homemade cinnamon rolls and even heaven couldn't be any better than that. I sat in a lawn chair next to Steve sipping hot chocolate and eating the sweet roll. Some frosting was smeared on my chin and Steve unabashedly leaned over and licked it off in front of everyone. No one made any comment at all about it. It was a completely natural act. It was a night to remember.
As we made our way home, I sat next to Steve in the back seat of the truck. I slipped my hand into his and we caressed each other's fists with our thumbs. I took out my phone and sent him a text, "Let's slip off to the shop tonight after others are asleep and do something wild and crazy."
Steve read it and grinned. Then he gave my hand a squeeze and just shook his head, no. "Not tonight," he whispered to me. I was disappointed. I texted again, "Tomorrow after church, then!!!"
He smiled and whispered an exasperated but amused, "Okay, horny toad."
Sunday morning was crazy hectic. Again, it was like a fire drill in the upstairs bathroom. This time, I ended up being in there while Cousin Nicolas was there. He had definitely filled out since we jacked off together. Seeing him naked totally stirred up some memories. Happy memories of our boyhood escapades in the barn. It made my dick twitch and I was definitely in the mood for some more private time with Steve. Steve and Whittaker came in at the same time as I was getting out of the shower, and seeing them naked really got me going. I had to quickly dry off and wrap the towel snugly around my waist to avoid exposing an embarrassing boner.
On the way to church, I sent Steve a text to his new phone. We added him to our family plan. "Remember what we're doing after church?"
He nodded that he remembered. I smiled. My dick started boning up on me just thinking about it. It was hard to concentrate on the sermon. The crowd was very large and after the service we were waiting to file out when Pastor Nichols pushed through the crowd to reach us. "Steve," Pastor Nichols said, gripping his arm. "Do you have a few minutes to talk privately?"
"I guess. Now?" Steve responded.
"Yes, if you can. Shane will you excuse us for a few?" Pastor Nichols asked.
"Sure. I'll just meet you in the truck with Billy and Jaime," I said in hopes that would remind him where we were headed instead of going home.
Billy started getting annoyed at how long it was taking. He was as anxious as I was to get to the motel and have some fun. We listened to the radio while the two lovebirds in the front seat did some publicly appropriate smooching. They controlled themselves and avoided any heavy making out.
"It's about time," I said when Steve finally climbed in the back seat with me. "What took so long?"
Steve didn't give a reason. He never felt the need to give reasons for his actions and I was still trying to get used to that aspect of his personality. "Lots to talk about," was all he offered up.
We paid for our hour and found our way to the room. Steve had been silent and staring out the window all the way over. Once in the motel, I set out the lube and some washcloths to wipe up with after we finished. "Want to shower first?" I asked.
"Sure," Steve answered. I was already naked and he was still fumbling around with his belt. I took over and finished stripping him. I was already boned just from thinking about his firm dick getting shoved up my twitching ass. His manhood was still drooping. I'd fix that.
We showered quick, cleaning up all the important spots. It was so nice just to be able to run my hands over his taut, muscled body. I was anxious to get back into better shape and vowed to keep up on my exercise routine. We dried off and made our way to the bed. Steve lay on his back and put his hands behind his head. I slid up next to him and pressed my firmness against his hip, slowly sliding against it.
Steve's penis was still showing disinterest. I started to fondle it and he moaned soft approval. He didn't, however, grow.
"What's up?" I asked. "Is everything okay?"
"Things are fine," he said. He continued to stare intently at the ceiling. I chose not to pursue it and slid over on top of him, Then, I kissed and nibbled my way down to his waist. I took his flaccid penis into my mouth and worked on bringing him to life. Although he swelled some, he never reached full tumescence. I let him slip free and rolled to his side again. I stroked a finger across his lips. My excitement dimmed.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"It's all right. Will you please tell me what's wrong?" I pleaded.
He sighed heavily and sat up. He pulled his knees up against his chest and rested his forehead on them. I sat up also and rubbed my hand tenderly over his back. He was tense and tremulous.
"It's okay, Steve. Whatever it is, we can deal with it. What's upsetting you?" I asked softly.
"Do you know Cheyenne's little boy?" he asked.
"Yes. What about him. Is he sick or something? Is that what Pastor Nichols talked to you about?" I guessed.
"No." Steve adjusted his head so that he was leaning on his temple to look at me. "Do you know what his name is?"
I thought about it. I didn't know. If I'd heard his name, I didn't remember it. "No," I admitted, "I don't think I ever knew it. Why?" I asked.
"His name is Steven."
"Okay," I thought it was cool that they shared a name, but couldn't understand why he told me that. I gestured for him to say more and he furrowed his brow at me. That's when it hit me. The way he furrowed his brow. I remembered how I'd recognized that exact gesture in Cheyenne's little boy. It had reminded me of someone and I suddenly, and dismayingly, understood who.
"Oh," I said. "He's yours."
Steve nodded. He rolled his forehead back towards his knees and began to tremble. He was crying. I held him tightly against me while he wept.
"Are you all right?" I asked as he sniffled. I handed him the washcloth that had been intended for something else. He used it to wipe his running nose. He looked up at me and said, "I'm sorry, Shane. I'm so sorry."
"Sorry for what?" I asked.
"I've made a mess of things. I was just a curious fifteen year old. I wanted to try it. I just wanted to try it. I don't know what to do," he whimpered.
"How did it happen?" I asked.
"We made friends. She was nice to me. My asshole father was using her for his sex trade too. He was probably doing her on the side as well. The older boys would make videos with her. I'd sneak out before lockdown to meet up and talk with her when she was alone in the kitchen cleaning up. We did it three times together in the storeroom. She said it wasn't her time of the month and we should be safe. A few months later, she just disappeared. No one knew why or where she went." Steve heaved a heavy sigh and added, "I don't know what to do."
"Is that what Pastor Nichols told you earlier? Did he tell you that little Steven is your son?" I asked.
"No. I already knew that. Cheyenne had already told me. Pastor Nichols wanted to know what I was going to do about it and gave me some advice."
"What kind of advice?" I asked. I felt a hole in my heart burning wider and blacker with every word. The ramifications of this revelation were buzzing around my brain in erratic patterns.
"Just like my mother did for me, Cheyenne refused to abort our son. Arty forced her to leave the boys home and put her on a bus to Chicago where she had an aunt. He threatened her not to come back or contact me or he'd have her prosecuted for rape by having sex with me, a fifteen year old boy. She was nineteen. She lived with her aunt until Steven was born and then when he was six months old, the aunt kicked them both out. She lived on welfare and small jobs to get by. When the news reports about the boys home scandal broke and your involvement with me came out, she made her way here to find out what she could. She was no longer afraid of arrest, since Arty was in a prison hospital and had bigger things to worry about. Now, I have a big decision to make."
"What decision?" I asked.
"I have to choose."
"Choose what?" I asked. "What is there to choose?"
"I have to choose between my love for you and my responsibility to my son. I love you, Shane, and I owe you my life. But, I have an obligation to my son." he whispered.
"Is she insisting that you marry her?" I asked.
"Yes, she is. She can't deny me access to Steven if I don't marry her, but if I decide to choose my son instead of you, I want to get married. I don't want little Steven to grow up in a separated family situation," Steve answered. "If I'm going to be his father and not just his sperm donor, I want him to live with me and take part in his whole life."
"There is no decision to be made then. You have to be a father to your son," I said.
"But what about us? I love you, Shane. And you love me," he stammered. "How is that fair to you?"
I smiled and kissed him. "All I need to know is that you love me. Yes, my heart is breaking right now, I can't lie about that. But my heart is swelling too. You have a son. You have a chance to be the kind of father you always wished for. There's no decision to be made, Steve, and you know it as well as I do. It's enough for me to know that you love me. I know, without a doubt, that you really love me if you considered, even for a minute, to abandon your son in order to be with me." We both fell into each other's arms and hugged tightly. Tears were shed. His tears were mostly from relief while mine had more bitterness in them.
"Thank you, Shane. Thank you so very much. I love you. I love you, and I always will love you," Steve told me as we held each other.
"And I will always love you. You have to promise not to be a stranger. I want to be godfather or uncle or someone special in your son's life. We can't be lovers, but we can be friends, I hope. Can we?" I asked. I wasn't sure how comfortable Cheyenne would be with that, but I desperately hoped she would allow it.
"We will always be friends," Steve promised.
"Do you love Cheyenne?" I asked a bit sheepishly.
"No. Not yet. But I like her. She's a good enough person. We'll figure out the love thing. We have to. We have a child." He kissed me and whispered in my ear, "Would you like one last time together?"
"I would absolutely love one last time, but I wouldn't feel good about it. I'd rather we left that part of us to the good memories we already have. You need to dedicate that part of yourself to Cheyenne now and to no one else. Can I have one last kiss, though?"
Steve didn't answer. He simply pressed his palms to my cheeks and his soft lips to my lips and kissed me so tenderly and so meaningfully that I cannot imagine I will ever be able to appreciate another kiss as much as that one for the rest of my life.
We were startled by the phone ringing. The office was informing us that we were overtime on the room. We dressed quickly and hugged one last time before leaving the room and heading to the truck. Billy and Jaime were impatiently waiting.
"Geez, you guys. Really?" Billy said as we climbed into the back seat.
"Shut up, Billy," I said firmly. "I don't want to hear it."
"Okay, Mr. Sensitive. Chill," he answered. He turned around and eyed us both. I'm sure he could tell we'd been crying. He spun back around, put it in reverse and we drove to Jaime's and then home. Steve and I held hands for the duration of the ride. No one spoke.
When we got home, Mom asked me to get the other boys together and go clean out the barn. The relatives had all left for home, so we had our bedrooms back. We all worked together on it. We talked amongst ourselves about the great holiday weekend it had been. Steve and I chimed in here and there, but we were mostly distracted with our own thoughts.
"Are you two okay?" Whittaker asked.
Billy stopped what he was doing and waited to hear what we answered. I looked over at Steve and gave him a little smile. "Yeah, we're better than okay. We're great," I said plainly. "Steve has some exciting news to share with everyone."
He looked at me and I nodded. "Well," he began. He folded his arms across his chest and continued, "I wasn't planning on telling everyone just yet, but I found out recently that I have a son. I'm the father to Cheyenne's little boy." There was a long period of stunned silence and then awkward glances towards me.
I broke the ice, "Isn't that awesome? I'm so happy for him. He'll make the best father ever, don't you all think?"
With that, everyone breathed a relieved sigh and then broke into congratulatory slaps on the back and high fives. Everyone heartily agreed that Steve would make a fantastic dad and Steve was smiling. I knew he appreciated my gesture. I was happy for him - almost as happy for him as I was sad for myself. I loved him too much to be a martyr. So, I just put on a happy face and joined in the celebration.
###
I hope you aren't too sad about this last turn of events. It was hard for me to write it but it has always been the intended story line. Remember the words of peace that came to Shane earlier, "Trust." Trust in me as well and read on to see how it all ends up.
Hans h.schrieber@hushmail.com