All the characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, either living or dead, is entirely unintentional.
The story is copyrighted and may not be reproduced in any way without the express permission of the author who can be contacted at:
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PJ
D'n'M Part 7
From Chapter 6:
Milo sat silent and still, his face wet with tears, his head swamped with bitter- sweet memories of his childhood, with a kaleidoscope of random images and, most of all, with a sea of regrets spreading out in every direction.
Dan stood, equally silent but tense and angry, his fists balled and with his mind swirling with resentment and bitterness.
And Nico, all those thousands of miles away, what of him? Who knew?
Chapter 7:
The days that followed somehow all seemed to melt into themselves, so that later, when they tried to tell people what had happened and when, Dan and Milo could never fully agree on the exact sequence of events. The one pocket of time that was clear in both their memories became known as The Night After The Day Of The Letter or, for short, The Night After, sometimes simply TNA.
Having got to the end of Kate's last known message they weren't left alone in the room for long. It was almost as if Ms. Lamar had been waiting outside with an ear pressed against the door's frosted glass panel. As she walked in it struck her that the two men looked totally out of place there in the offices of Children's Services dressed, as they still were, in their full cycling gear. She noted that Dan was standing completely still, staring out of the one, narrow window. The tension in his shoulders and back was all too obvious, ominously underscored by the thunder-dark look on his face and the balled fist. In contrast, Milo was sitting exactly where he had been when she'd left them, with his attention still seemingly fixed on the now-blank screen. Except, she quickly realised, it wasn't fixed on anything, it couldn't have been because his vision was now completely overwhelmed by the torrent of tears streaming down his face. The contrast between the body language of the two men couldn't have been more marked. And then she noticed one more thing, something that found its way into her pissed-off-that-she-was-having-to-work-on-a-weekend, determined-to-keep-things-brisk-and-efficient, always-totally-professional, heart. Dan and Milo were holding hands, their fingers entwined together. Here was yet another thing to add to her on-going mental inventory of the two of them as potential carers for the newly-motherless boy many thousands of miles away who, for now at least, was very much her responsibility and priority.
Neither Dan nor Milo took any notice of Ms. Lamar's arrival back in the room, each completely lost in his own, contrasting, reactions to what they had just read. She made a discreet coughing sound to get their attention and then suggested that they go home, shower, change, eat and then give themselves some time to think, before returning on Monday morning for a more thorough assessment of the situation. She could only imagine, she said, how much of a shock all this must be. It was less than twenty-four hours since they'd learnt of the existence of their far distant nephew and now, not only were there the facts of his horrific background and experiences to absorb, but also the news of the tragic passing away of the boy's mother, Milo's sister. It all, she said, must be very hard to take in and they surely needed time to process all of this new and possibly life-changing information. She wasn't really surprised when neither Dan nor Milo responded so she offered to call a cab to take them home but they said "No", they'd prefer to cycle, get some fresh air, clear their heads, let things begin to sink in. Then, just as they were about to leave, Milo suddenly realised something he'd completely forgotten about in the effort of trying to get a handle on the devastating news of Kate's passing -- the boy, Nico.
"When can we see him? Talk to him? He must be totally overwhelmed by everything that's been happening to him. He needs to know that he's not alone and that we're here for him. I'm a psychologist and I've worked with dozens of young kids who have experienced dreadful things in their lives but even I, with all that experience, can only imagine the degree of trauma he's suffering."
"That, I'm afraid, won't be possible ..." began Ms. Lamar but Milo broke in and demanded, "What do you mean, `Won't be possible'? He's my nephew and it's absolutely imperative that I speak to him. I insist, preferably on a video call but by phone if necessary."
"Please, Mr. de Beer-Reed," began Ms. Lamar using her most no-nonsense and professional tone of voice, "Please. When I say it won't be possible that's not because I, or, indeed, Children's Services, wish to be at all obstructive, quite the reverse. The fact is that the authorities in Buenos Aires have their own protocols and procedures when dealing with unsupported minors and until they have been completed we can do nothing but wait."
Milo's face spoke volumes of frustration and unhappiness.
Ms. Lamar continued, "Believe me when I tell you that there is nothing you or I can do about it so, once again, I suggest you go home and begin to give yourselves time to adjust to what you have heard and read today. Perhaps you need to give some thought to how to break the news of Kate's passing to your father, Nico's grandfather."
`Dad! Shit!' Milo had totally not thought how he was going to tell his father. "Yes," he said, "You're right. But you'll be in touch as soon as you hear from the people in Buenos Aires?" Ms. Lamar nodded as she held open the door.
Later, as they lay side by side in bed, the fingers of Milo's left hand once again entwined in those of Dan's right, both staring at the shadowy ceiling, their thoughts followed very different pathways. Milo, not surprisingly, couldn't rid himself of the mental image he'd created of Kate as she faced the likelihood of her own death, surrounded by the filth and squalor of that back-street room, with nothing at all to console her and with fears for her son's future uppermost in her mind. Dan was also thinking about Kate but there was no sympathy in his mind, no charity, no concern for how her life ended, only anger at her continued ability to have a negative and malign impact on M, even after death.
"How are you feeling?" he whispered.
"Honestly?"
"Honestly."
"Well, honestly, I have no idea." M's voice sounded hollow and flat.
"How about overwhelmed?" Dan suggested.
"Yes, that I `spose, but also sort of hollow, as if there's nothing inside me that knows how to feel any more. That probably doesn't make sense, but ..." Milo's voice tailed off with a sigh.
"Of course it makes sense. You've been hit with some serious shit, I mean really serious, and there's no way you've had time to even begin to make sense of any of it. First there was finding out you've had a far-away nephew for the last fourteen years and then the news about Kate ..." Dan didn't get to finish his sentence because he didn't know how to without upsetting M even more.
"Yes, Kate. Poor, poor Kate. What a dreadful life she got stuck with. It broke my heart to read all that awful stuff she had to put up with -- the violence and the drugs and the ..." Now it was his turn not to finish.
Hearing this, Dan was outraged. He sat up and stared down at M. "The life she got stuck with? The awful stuff she had to put up with?" He was incredulous. "You make it sound as if she was some kind of victim. As if she hadn't brought it all on herself. That she hadn't brought a child into all that shit. I don't believe it!" He lay back down but didn't move his hand back to where it had been before.
Milo sighed. "I know it's hard to understand, D, but she's, she was, my sister. And yes, she did some horrible things when we were kids ..."
"Not just horrible things," protested Dan, "Evil things. To her own brother. Even turned your mother against you."
"Yes." Milo nodded wearily, "But, like she said in the letter, she was a screw-up herself back then and needed to find some way to make herself feel better. And let's face it, D, if only half the things she wrote about in that letter are true, she got paid back in spades. I wouldn't wish the life she ended up with on anybody. Would you?"
Dan knew that the truthful answer to that question was that, yes, he'd happily wish it on Kate, the sister who had come so close to destroying his beautiful, beloved M. In fact, he couldn't think of anything that he wouldn't wish on her. Nothing was too bad. But he wasn't going to say any of that in answer to M's question. If love meant anything at all it meant that there were times when the truth was the last thing that needed to be spoken, and Dan knew that this was one of those times.
"No, I suppose not, and definitely not for the kid. He didn't deserve any of it."
"He really didn't, but he's the one who's all alone and so scared or traumatised, or both, that he can't even speak. He needs to have his family around him. He needs to know that he's not all alone and that he's loved. That's what he needs more than anything right now and he's not getting any of it."
"But you heard what Ms. Lamar said, it's all down to the authorities in Buenos Aires and there's nothing anyone can do about that." Dan was trying hard to be calm and reasonable, hoping to reassure M so that he'd start to fret less and allow things to take their course.
"I could fly out there." The idea hit Milo like a light going on. Why hadn't he thought of it before? If he turned up in person, not only would Nico have visible proof that he wasn't all alone in the world but he, Milo, would be able to talk to the `authorities' in Buenos Aires face-to-face, convince them that the best thing for the boy would be to be put on the next plane home.
Dan's heart sank. He'd been hoping against hope that M wouldn't come up with this idea, fearing, as he did, that it was pretty much bound to fail on all possible counts. He searched round for a convincing counter-argument.
"That's a thought," he replied, non-commitally, "But we don't know what the boy's been told about you and your dad. Or about why Kate never wanted to leave South America. I think we need to know more than what Kate wrote in her letter before making any big decisions. Otherwise things could really blow up in our faces, and you definitely don't want to do anything to piss off the people down there." He hoped he'd said enough. There was a pause before Milo answered.
"Yeah, you're probably right as usual. But I hate it, hate being stuck here, so far away. I feel so ... so fucking helpless."
The use of the F-word didn't go unnoticed but Dan decided this was not the moment to tease M about it.
For a while, maybe for as long as five minutes, they sank back into their own thoughts and neither spoke, although their hands did reconnect. It was Dan who eventually broke the silence.
"Are you still thinking about Nico?"
"Yeah, sorta, but mostly about my dad. How am I supposed to break it to him that the daughter he's not seen for fifteen years has finally turned up ... dead? And that she's left behind a teenage son who's had a life you wouldn't want to even imagine? He's only just beginning to recover from a heart attack brought on by stress, so how am I supposed to tell him? How? And what about the fact that he's been holding out on me all these years, not telling me that he knew way more about Kate than her occasional need for money? What's that all about?"
Dan turned his face towards Milo and saw, reflected in the dim light spilling in through the slatted window, silent tears as they began to form in the corners of his eyes. Immediately he wrapped Milo in his arms.
"I don't know," he said, "And neither do you. So we need help. In the morning I think we should go over to see my parents. They've been good friends with your dad for more than twenty-five years but they're also a step removed from this whole mess. I reckon they'll be able to give us an objective steer on what to do next. They're good at that sort of thing, especially my mum." He hugged tighter and added, "How does that sound?" He dearly hoped that, suggesting a practical, doable course of action would help settle M's anxieties and allow him to get some sleep. And as a fall-back position he had another proposition up his sleeve -- at least, it would have been up his sleeve had he been wearing anything with sleeves or, in fact, anything at all in addition to his KC boxer-briefs.
"Yeah, that sounds like a plan. Like you say, talking to people who have some distance from the whole Kate and Nico situation but who care for you, me and my dad could really help us get things straight." Even as he was saying the words Milo began to feel the lifting of some of the weight which had been building up on his shoulders ever since he'd first spoken to Ms. Lamar. "Thank you, D, I don't know what I'd do without you by my side and looking out for me all the time. I love you so, so much."
With those words the magnetism that had held them closer than close for nearly half their lives now drew their lips together, gently at first and then with increasing strength and passion. Tongues mingled and hands began the familiar dance of caress and stimulation. Then, as he half expected, Dan felt M's body tense and begin to resist but before he could pull back completely or say anything to halt their love-making before it had properly started, Dan moved his mouth close to Milo's ear.
"Let me do this for you, my lovely man. Let me remind you just how much you are loved, how special you are to me and always will be and that, whatever shit life throws at us, I'll always be with you every step of the way."
And before Milo could say anything in response Dan was wriggling down under the bedcovers, kissing his way down M's toned stomach in a straight line aimed directly at his suddenly waking dick. Although his muscles may not have been as tight and defined as they had been through his teens when he was swimming at inter-school level, Milo still kept his body in good shape with regular visits to the gym and cycling most weekends. With Dan's help he also made sure the nest of dark brown hair above his dick was trimmed and his ball-sack cleanly shaved, a look they both preferred.
Over the years that they'd been sharing their bodies with each other, sex for Dan and Milo had grown to become a fundamentally important part of their life together. Sometimes it was slow and gentle, sometimes it was fast and furious, always it was passionate and expressive. They'd had many years of practice, of give and take, of listening to each other's bodies. They knew how to read the signs and to know what the other wanted, needed, so on The Night After, Dan was very well aware that, given the mood M was in and the strong possibility that he could shut things down at any moment, he didn't have time for a slow build-up or leisurely fore-play. What he needed was lubrication, something that was often provided by M and his ability to produce great quantities of pre-cum but which tonight would have to be squeezed out of the bottle Dan always kept handy on his side of the bed.
With M's dick rising rapidly to the occasion Dan slicked himself with the lube before applying a generous handful to his man. Then, before M could verbalise a reason why this wasn't such a good idea, Dan grabbed his lover's familiar tool and expertly lowered himself onto its solid six and a half inches, rapidly bottoming-out and immediately rocking himself backwards and forwards and establishing a steady rhythm before beginning to add an up and down motion to the mix. Whether facing M or pointed away from him, this position was one of their favourites, especially when one of them was happy to give the other full control of their love-making. It wasn't long before M's breathing became faster and more urgent and his hips were unable to resist the urge to thrust upwards to meet D's fall. It was all over in just a few minutes, M blowing a decent load (not one of his biggest) into D's welcoming butt and Dan briskly stroking himself to a happy climax.
"You were right, I did need to be inside you. Thankyou. As always, you're the best," Milo murmured as Dan lay down beside him once more.
"Always my pleasure," replied Dan before slipping out of bed to make the necessary after-sex trip to the bathroom. When he got back a few minutes later it was to find Milo was just about awake enough to return his gentle goodnight kiss. Dan lay awake for a while, trying to predict how their lives were likely to be impacted by the revelations of the last couple of days. But he soon realised that no amount of wondering was going to provide a magic answer so he allowed himself to sink into sleep, a quiet smile of `job well done' lingering on his face.
What he didn't know was that reasons to smile were going to prove to be pretty elusive in the days and weeks to come.
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