This story contains portrayals of homosexual actions and lifestyles. There may be references to, or explicit descriptions of, sex between consenting adults.
If homosexuality, sexually explicit language, or swearing offends you, or if reading material that contains these topics violates any law or personal or religious beliefs, or if you under 18 years of age, please leave now, without proceeding further.
This story is entirely fictional, and any resemblances to actual persons are completely coincidental. Actual locations are mentioned, and are used for 'background' only.
Many of the character's names are Finnish. For those who wish to know how they are pronounced, read on.
Mikko - MEEK-ko Paavo - PAH-vo Joel - YOE-el Halonen - HALL-oh-nen
Roy roynm@mac.com
Leith - chapter 7
"I saw them Joel!" Susan turned to her husband in outrage. "Brett and . . . that boy. She made a face, as if struggling to think of an appropriate name for her nephew. "They walked out to the pool holding hands . . . naked, and they were kissing!" She hissed the last word. "They're not in this house for twenty-four hours and already one of them has corrupted my son. I knew there'd be trouble having them say here. I just never thought it would happen within hours of their arrival!" She had begun to pace back and forth, her silk pajamas catching the moonlight through the dining room window, where she had dragged her husband after going to investigate noises she said she heard in the back yard.
"Shhh, Susan," Joel urged, leaning against the dining table crossing his arms and ankles and watching his wife through narrowed eyes. She was in full fighting mode, a state she rarely achieved, and from which she was not easily dissuaded. He clenched his teeth in a struggle to remain calm, causing a muscle on his jaw to twitch. His wife ignored the subtle signs of her husband's displeasure.
"Don't you shush me, Mr. Halonen. My son is no longer the innocent boy he was only hours ago . . . because of them!" She spit out the last word, gesturing vaguely in the direction of her guest's bedrooms. Her voice was beginning to rise. He knew the longer she carried on the more difficult it would be to make her see reason.
"Susan," Joel reached out and gripped his wife's arm as she walked past. Her eyes flashed but the grip was hard enough to make her stop talking. She opened her mouth, flicked a quick look at the firm set of her husband's jaw, and then closed it slowly. "Listen to me for a moment, and don't say a single word until I'm finished." Joel spoke deliberately and slowly, something he only did when he wanted to convey information of utmost importance . . . or when he was prepared to be very angry. When he used this tone of voice, his children and wife knew to remain quiet and listen to what was said.
"Brett is not only your son. He is mine as well. Do we understand each other?" She nodded grudging agreement, but was still breathing hard. "Good, we agree on something. The grip on her arm relaxed and some of the tension seemed to leave his jaw. "Now, let's move on to something more difficult." She turned her head toward the back yard, unwilling to leave the current subject. He grasped harder, once again focusing her attention on what he was going to say. She glanced at his fingers on her arm and then at his eyes which flashed, before briefly focusing on something over her shoulder. She made as if to turn around to see what had caught his attention, but was prevented when he began speaking. He relaxed his grip on her arm but didn't let it go.
"Susan, Brett has not been the innocent you imagine for quite a few years . . . and before you say anything, Leith had nothing to do with it. Brett spoke of it to me the day after."
"Oh my baby," Susan wailed. "Someone hurt him. He was in pain!"
"Susan," Joel laughed, shaking his head in exasperation, his shoulders relaxing a bit. "Sweetheart, you are definitely living in an alternate reality." She turned a hurt but defiant look on her husband.
"Dear," he drew her into an embrace, shaking his head in amusement at the look on her face. "Brett came to me because he was happy, not because he had been hurt, or was in pain. He was laughing and pacing back and forth in my office, thrilled with what had happened." Joel paused a moment, recalling his son's mood. "I remember his sparkling eyes most. He was so excited that whenever he would try and sit down, he would jump back up and start pacing again." His smile softened. "I've rarely seen him behaving like that. Both you and I know how seldom he leaves his melancholy mood behind." She nodded reluctant agreement, dropping her eyes. "He was absolutely buoyant," Joel continued. "In fact I don't think I've ever seen him in that kind of mood since. He was better than buoyant. He was positively incandescent." Susan's breathing had returned to normal under the soothing touch of her husband on her back. She looked at him puzzled, not recognizing her son from her husband's description.
"Do you know what it was that got him so excited?" He waited while his wife considered the question.
"I'm afraid to think," she muttered, still not completely willing to abandon her anger at her brother-in-law and nephew. Joel chuckled in recollection.
"A friend of his . . . a boy . . . his own age . . . held his hand at the movies!" His wife looked up at him with skepticism. "Susan," he said, tilting her chin up so he could look into her eyes.
"Love; Brett's gay. Not because of a boy friend of his holding his hand, or anything either of us did . . . or didn't do, but because he is. Instead of being upset with him or Leith, we should be thrilled our son is happy; that he is apparently interested in someone we already know to be a good person, and that he is comfortable being himself in his own home. Many parents of a gay child would envy our situation." Susan frowned slightly but refrained from making a comment. "They have children who, for whatever reason, can not accept the fact they're gay. They end up seeing god knows who . . . or where." He spoke persuasively.
"Love, accept our son's sexual orientation, and be happy for him . . . and for us. We have a good boy who knows right from wrong. He's eighteen now, so he's an adult and can make decisions of his own. Let's be there for him when he needs us, but let's not make him think there's something wrong with him, or that we somehow think less of him because of his orientation." He paused and looked over his wife's shoulder to see his son close the patio doors to his room and pull the drapes closed.
"Please, Susan. Let him love whomever he chooses. He'll make good choices if we don't interfere." He grinned encouragingly. "Deal?"
"I don't have to like it, do I?" She grumbled.
He chuckled. "No, but give him . . . and Leith a chance. Okay? There's nothing we or anyone else can do to change anything. Let's give him an opportunity to seek his own destiny; to be happy with someone, comfortable to be in our presence with his partner."
She nodded slowly, still not pleased, but willing to accept the wisdom of her husband's words. "They better not start kissing in front of me though." The slight quirk of her lips however, belied the flash in her eyes.
He grinned and patted her back, gently pulling her closer to him. "I'll warn them. . . . Definitely no kissing in front of Aunt Mom . . . at least for a couple days."
"Humph," she said, grinning at his joke and melting into an embrace that had always made her feel safe. "Good. It's settled, then. No kissing."
"Right," he smiled into her hair, running his hand over the back of her silk pajamas.
"I guess I could handle it if they held hands . . . " she trailed off, leaning against his chest and not seeing his smile, or the lights go out in Brett's room.
There was a knock at the bedroom door. Brett groaned, drowsily raising his head to look at the bedside clock. "Six-thirty," he moaned, moving the clock back and forth, trying to focus and make sure he was seeing the time correctly. "We just got to sleep," he mumbled as he untangled himself from Leith's limbs. There was another quiet knock.
"Yeah, yeah, just a damn minute." He continued to mumble as he looked around the darkened bedroom, squinting as he searched for a pair of underwear. Not finding any, he snagged a towel from the floor and wrapped it around his waist, noticing it was still damp after his and Leith's early morning shower.
"Who the fuck gets up at six-thirty on a Saturday morning and starts knocking on people's doors? We've only had two hours sleep for pity's sake. That's not enough!" He muttered as he moved across the room, stubbing his toe and hopping a couple times in surprise as he tried to hurry to the door before the knocking awakened Leith.
He glanced over his shoulder to the bed and grinned. Leith had turned on his side and was embracing Brett's pillow. The sheet barely covered him, exposing his bare hip and the length of one leg before it draped over the edge of the bed creating a white puddle on the floor. Brett felt as if his life had changed during the course of the past night. He wasn't quite sure yet how it had changed, but he was convinced things would be different from now on.
There was another gentle knock. 'Whoever it is is certainly patient,' he thought, 'and insistent.' He thumbed the lock and opened the door part way to discover his father standing in the hall.
"Dad?" He asked, puzzled at the early intrusion, as well as at the expression on his father's face.
"I'm sorry for disturbing you guys, but you and I need to visit for a few minutes before everyone else gets up." Joel spoke quietly, glancing over his son's shoulder to see his nephew still asleep. "I'll make sure everyone leaves you alone when we're finished." Joel stepped aside as his son left the bedroom then silently motioned him to close the door behind him. They took the few steps to the adjoining bedroom; the one in which Leith was supposed to be sleeping, in silence. Joel closed the door and sat on the edge of the bed, patting a spot beside him, asking Brett to join him.
"Dad?" Brett held the towel closed and sat, turning slightly toward his father. "Are things okay? Why the mystery?"
"Things are fine, son," Joel smiled kindly and reached up to brush his hand lovingly over his son's hair. Brett sat quietly, intuitively knowing something important had happened and his father would tell him of it when he was ready.
"Did you and Leith enjoy yourselves last night?" Joel grinned when his son blushed and smiled.
"If you mean did we have sex, the answer is no." He raised his chin an inch. "If you mean did we have a good time, the answer is definitely yes." Joel frowned slightly, not understanding what he was being told. "Dad," Brett paused a moment. "Leith was not ready for sex of any sort last night." He swallowed, remembering how his cousin felt in his arms. "He needed to be held . . . while he cried. I held him, and he in turn, made me feel needed . . . important, you know?" Joel nodded in sympathetic understanding.
"Then we went swimming . . . in the moonlight." Once again Brett blushed. "He's a wonderful kisser."
"He is?" Joel enjoyed seeing his normally melancholy son on such an emotional high.
"Yes." Brett's bright smile changed to one of affection. "And then we went back to bed and he held me, and we talked . . . and kissed, and we finally fell asleep a couple hours ago." He paused a moment, remembering his feelings, and then recalled exactly where he was, and continued. "So, Dad. I'm tired, and grumpy, and wondering why we're in Glenn's room talking in secret so early in the morning. I really want to be back there in bed with Leith." Brett slightly nodded in the direction of his room.
Joel heaved a sigh and spoke quietly. "We're talking because your mother heard something in the night and got up to investigate . . . She saw the two of you kissing." Joel watched the color drain from his son's face, his mouth forming a silent "O." Joel reached out a comforting hand and rested it on Brett's knee.
"Don't worry son, things are cool. Your mother and I had a long talk about . . . things. She's doing fine . . . though I am supposed to tell you not to kiss Leith in her presence . . . at least for a few days." He grinned at his son's reaction.
"You can however, hold hands . . . or so she says."
"What? . . . Kiss him? . . . Hold hands? What did you say to her? I thought she'd freak and call me her little boy or something." Joel shrugged and grinned, surprised at how closely Susan's reactions had been predicted.
He shifted around to face his son, bending one leg and bringing it partially onto the bed. His voice was gentle and his smile was one of deep paternal satisfaction. "I told her to remember how proud we both are of you." He smiled at his son's reaction. "I also reminded her that you're an adult who knows right from wrong, and is able to make intelligent decisions regarding your own life. We both agreed how much we love you, no matter what your sexual orientation is, and that this is your home as much as it is ours. You and Leith, or you and another young man are welcome to show the same sort of affection toward each other that your mother and I do." He once again rested his hand on his son's knee. Brett jerked his chin up at the touch and sniffed, close to being overcome with emotion. His father gave him a few moments to compose himself before continuing.
"Brett, don't try to hide your affections from us. . . . I know what a toll hiding a large part of your life can take. It's like you're living two mutually exclusives lives." He swallowed and bowed his head. "Your mother and I want you to be happy, Brett . . . I want you to be happy. Be yourself. Don't hide. The rest of the world can go take a hike if they don't like it. If you . . . and your partner are happy, I'm happy, and your mother is as well." Brett slowly shook his head from side to side in wonder.
"Dad, did you and Mom talk about you and Uncle Mikko? Joel sadly shook his head.
"No, we didn't. We were talking about you and Leith . . . and I didn't see a need." Brett watched his father's discomfort. "I'm a coward, I guess. But, there's no need to hurt your mother." He paused a moment. "No, that's not right. I will not hurt her."
"Brett, I love your mother. I also love Mikko. Sex with either of them is great . . . Different, but wonderful. What you saw yesterday between Mikko and me was as exciting as sex gets for me, but it doesn't mean I'm going to run off with Mikko and abandon you, your brothers, and your mother. Mikko and I are big boys. We can handle things. Being close to each other is what's important for us." He grinned. "An occasional fuck would be nice though." Brett grinned and nodded slowly.
"So you still haven't . . . cum yet?" Joel asked, incredulous, recalling his son saying he and Leith had yet to have sex.
Brett shook his head and grinned. "Well, since Mom doesn't want us kissing in front of her, I think Leith and I are going to hang out in my room all day and kiss and . . . hopefully cum . . . a few times." He giggled. "You can shove food under the door, or something . . . like room service, you know?"
"In your dreams! I may love you, but I'm not your maid, mister." Joel laughed.
"Well, suit yourself, but once I go back in that room I'm not coming out until I'm no longer a virgin." Brett stopped speaking abruptly, his eyes wide. After a second he grinned, at his father's expression as much as at what he had just said. "Well, now you know that is there anything else you're curious about?" He laughed, trying to cover his embarrassment.
Joel smiled and shook his head, then stood, watching his son stand and adjust the towel around his hips. 'Damn,' he thought, looking at his son's rippling stomach, defined chest and broad shoulders, 'the boy is certainly turning into a handsome young man.' Brett quirked his eyebrows at his father's silence. Joel cleared his throat.
"Well if you're staying in there until that momentous event happens, I hope to see you both soon, with a very satisfied expression on your face. Just try not to walk funny when your mother's nearby, okay?" Both men burst out laughing.
"I love you, Dad," Brett said, stifling a catch in his voice. "Tell Mom thanks for me. I'll tell her myself soon." Joel ruffled his son's hair, knowing he wouldn't be able to do that much longer.
"Oh, and Dad," Brett became serious. "If you need to talk about you and Uncle Mikko . . . or your feelings or stuff, I'm always available." Joel compressed his lips and tried to smile, nodding his appreciation of the offer.
"I just might take you up on that offer someday."
"Good." He seemed pleased his father had agreed. "Oh, and if you and Uncle Mikko are interested in showing off again, I'd like to watch . . . but closer this time!"
Joel laughed. "Knowing Mikko, I'm sure that could be arranged." Brett grinned and squeezed his father's shoulder.
"Now, I'm gonna go back to bed. The next time you see me I'm gonna be smiling." He wiggled his eyebrows at his father and walked back to his bedroom with a spring in his step.
"Ohhh shit." Mikko sat on the edge of his bed and ran his fingers through his spiky-curly hair. "She knows about the boys?" He asked again, just to make sure he heard correctly when his brother told him about last night's discussions with Susan. He knew he wasn't at his best early in the morning and his brain seemed to be especially slow this morning. Mikko watched Joel slowly nod and pull up a chair. Like he had with his son, Joel had awakened his brother, and after a brief, but thorough kiss, had broken the news.
After a moment, Mikko silently pointed to his brother then to himself, a questioning and alarmed look on his face.
"No, not about us." Joel gave a rueful grin. "I think deep down she already knows though. That's probably why she can be distant with you. She really does like you, Mikko, she just doesn't like the idea of the two of us spending too much time alone, where we can get into mischief."
"You already told Brett?" Joel nodded.
"I'll let him tell Leith. I guess they were up until just a few hours ago. Brett was pretty grumpy for me getting him out of bed." He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"He said Leith was pretty emotional last night." Mikko slowly nodded his understanding, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead then pinching the bridge of his nose.
"As far as I know, last night was the first time Leith's been with someone since Mason died. I'm glad it was Brett, someone who understands where Leith's coming from." He sighed, giving his brother a crooked grin. "Me holding him is not the same as someone his own age." He hesitated and then went on. "He was so devoted to Mason, I don't think he knows any other gay person his own age."
"Joel." Mikko paused and reached out to take his brother's hand. "I hope our presence hasn't made life difficult for you. I mean with Susan. . . . We can move to a hotel if it would help."
"What?" Joel was genuinely surprised at his brother's suggestion. "Think a minute! If you guys go off to a motel suddenly, it's telling Susan you're sorry for what Leith and Brett did. . . . I'm not. They're not. You shouldn't be. We and the boys need to send the correct message to Susan. Right now she's cool with everything. If we start behaving like we're embarrassed by the boys' behavior, no telling what she'll think. . . . No, stay here for as long as you like."
"I've told Brett he and Leith are free to be as affectionate in front of us as we . . . Susan and I . . . are in front of him. Sadly, you and I have to be more stealthy, which does not mean I don't want to kiss you every time I see you." Joel smiled. "Brett says Leith is a great kisser. Must take after his father."
Mikko grinned and tightened his grip on his brother's hand. "Thank you, Joel . . . for being my big brother . . . who I happen to love." He paused and thought a moment before adding. "A lot." Joel smiled and stood, spreading his arms, welcoming Mikko's embrace, and his kiss.
~To be continued.~
As with my earlier story, 'Phalen,' (Nifty College Section) I would like to thank you for taking the time to read my work. I would also like to thank Carey for his ceaseless efforts to make me a better writer, Gwynne for her daily doses of humor and her insights into the characters, and Larry in Finland for helping me with the Finnish language and for being a good friend. Writing may be a solitary endeavor, but the thoughts of each of these people, as well as you, the story's readers, affect the story's course.
I always welcome email from readers and enjoy hearing your thoughts. If you would like me to send a pic of the character(s) please email me.
NOTE: This story happens during the same period of time as the 'Phalen' story.
Thanks for reading.
Roy roynm@mac.com