April 16, 2001
Luke's Secret Art Chapter 9
Written By: Justin Case
Edited By: Jeremy and Wayne ------------
Disclaimer: This story is rated for mature audiences only, as it contains sexually graphic and vulgar language. People of legal age should view it only. It is a story about young gay love, if you find that offensive please leave now. Just right click your mouse, you will get the "BACK" prompt, back your way right on out. This material is the property of the author, and is protected by copyright. This story is fiction, based on reality. All similarities to the real world are coincidental and intentional. Justin Case is a registered trademark.-c2001-
SoapBox-- Hey, hey! I am back. I have missed you all terribly. I have many that have written or IM'd me wanting more of Luke. I am overwhelmed to say the least, because we've had eight chapters and no sex. I remember, when I first came here to Nifty some of the stories were just sex, sex, and then again some more sex. Not that I minded; hey I read `em, didn't I? I just thought, there was more to say about our lifestyle, I also thought Nifty was a great vehicle to carry that message. Now, I find so many great stories here. Many wonderful people have graced me with their thoughts and support. I am truly amazed at how far we have come, and know the journey to "FREEDOM" is long, and not yet accomplished. For that, my dear friends, I pray.
I have begun to accept work from others, who have the same dream I do. The dream to carry a message of hope and understanding to the world beyond. I will post the best I receive on my own web site. If you're interested in writing, send me your stuff for review, I may post it to my site, http://Justinscorner.homestead.com If you'd like, you can visit the site, it's FREE! Drop me a note, sign my guest book or, take a look at my exclusive story Comedy of Errors, only found there.
In the meantime, my good friends, I have run across two wonderfully written stories, both in the High School section of Nifty. One of them is "Angel of Mine," written by a James Treanor, last update was 3/19/01. I highly recommend you read it and drop him a line. I am impressed with another story I just started; it is written by a Willie B. It is the second one of his stories I have come across, this one is titled "Flip," also in the High School section of Nifty, its last update was 2/25/01. You just have to read these great pieces.
Just to let you all know, my computer problems have become a memory. I hope they stay there. Hehe. If you feel so compelled, send me an e-mail or instant message, I love hearing from you all. Justin69SK@aol.com is still the address that puts you in touch with me.
I sat there watching Travis scoop his ice cream out of the deep, thick glass dish with the serpentine humps on the rim, with the long, slender handled spoon. I couldn't take my eyes off his beauty. When he would take a mouthful, his face took on a look of sheer enjoyment. He truly savored every bite of the tasty flavored, frozen cream.
"What?" He quipped.
"What, what?" I wondered.
"Why you staring at me? Do I have whip cream on my face?"
He did, I couldn't stop myself, and I just laughed. I had to hold my sides they hurt so badly. This time he really had something hanging off his face, although I thought it was cute. He had this huge white cream mustache; it made my mind reel with dirty thoughts. I tried to be discreet, so I pointed to his face with my hand that I kept close to the tabletop.
He reached his right hand to his upper lip and found it. Instead of removing it, he smushed it, and looked even more hilarious. He got whip cream on the side of his hand when he put his hand back down. He tried to wipe it away and got it on the table. He finally reached for the napkin dispenser and knocked the small glass of water over in the process. The water ran off the table into his lap, so he quickly tried to catch it and got the cream on his pants. He became a mess in a matter of seconds; which just added to my laughing fit.
He stood up. His pants were wet right where it looked like he had had an accident. Oh, my God, now I was roaring with laughter. I couldn't help myself; I actually was writhing in my seat. Tears were running down my face. I laughed so hard the mouthful of ice cream I had just taken actually came spurting out of my nose. I was mortified.
Travis stood there; pants all wet, whip cream on his face and hand, and started laughing at me as my ice cream spouted out my nostrils. His face was deep red, and I saw his eyes watering, too. He laughed so hard he could only point his finger at my face.
I was totally embarrassed. out of the corner of my eye, I saw the waitress coming towards us. She didn't look too happy. She was dressed in one of those "Friendly" outfits; you know, everything at "Friendly's" is "Friendly," including the cola. Her brown eyes were glaring at us; her face was contorted in a fit of anger. I knew whatever she was going to say wasn't going to be "Friendly."
"You boys need to leave, you are disturbing our other customers," she shouted, her hands and arms were flailing all about.
We didn't argue, we just left; Travis with his wet pants and whip cream mustache; me with the ice cream still stuck to my face. We laughed the whole way out the door. I heard the waitress shout as we crossed the threshold.
"And don't come back!"
We got into his car. He pulled it out of the parking lot and began driving away. I felt so good to be sharing my time with Travis. It was the first time I had had fun in such a long time; fun that I shared with another. It was certainly something I had longed for, a true friend. I settled into my seat and looked over at him. His eyes locked on mine.
"Luke?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"It's just that... well... it's just... Never mind, I can't..." his voice trailed off.
I kept my gaze on him. I wondered what it was that was on his mind. I really was beginning to feel it was the same thing that was on mine. Fear kept me from saying what I wanted to. He just kept his eyes on the road; he didn't look my way. I finally turned my attention to the roadway, keeping my thoughts to myself.
I watched as we drove by the Isabella Stewart Museum, a reconstructed palace brought over from Italy stone by stone; where fine tapestries, paintings, and period furniture are featured. In the springtime it is surrounded by a beautifully planted courtyard; it was covered with snow as we passed it. I thought about the last time I had been there, it was with my dad. My mind began to travel back to when my father was still with us; it had only been a few days since his demise, but it felt like a lifetime had passed.
Travis just seemed to want to drive around. I looked up from my journey through memory lane and noticed the Old State House, with its balcony, the place where the Declaration of Independence' was read in 1776. I realized how much American history our fine city of Boston held in its archives. I thought about Paul Revere as we passed the Old North Church. I wondered where Travis was going, as we aimlessly drove the streets of Beantown.'
I looked out my window and noticed the Charles River. How desolate it looked in December, I thought. In the summer it would be dotted with sailboats and racing shells rowed by college students. The Boston Common would be crammed with tourists and Bostonians alike. The city would come alive in a few short months.
"Where're we going, buddy?" I finally asked.
"I don't know, I was just riding around. You want to go somewhere?" Travis seemed so distant as he answered me.
I decided to take the plunge, my fear be damned. It was now or never, I finally convinced myself. I could feel my stomach as it began to flutter. I clenched my hands on my legs and turned my face towards him.
"Travis," I said quietly, but directly.
"Yes?"
"Travis, have you ever thought about other boys?"
"How do you mean?"
"Well, you won't think bad about me, or something, will you?" I took a deep breath.
"Luke, I assure you, no matter what, I will always be your friend. Can I ask you something? Are you trying to ask me if I'm attracted to other guys?"
"Kind of," I only half confessed.
I studied his face hard, trying to read his thoughts. He turned his face to me, his lips pursed. I felt my heart begin to race. I was terrified of what he was about to say. I kept my hands clenched in my lap.
"Luke, I want to tell you something. I need you to promise me you will never tell a soul. I also want you to promise me, no matter what, you will always be my friend."
"I promise."
"Luke, I'm afraid. I am so afraid to tell you, but I get these feelings when I'm near you. I got them the first time I saw you in Carver. I really think you get them too. I don't know how to explain it, but, I feel you and I are very much alike. I am only attracted to one boy, YOU."
I saw him tremble, I watched as the color drained from his face. I knew he was scared, he was scared of how I would react. I couldn't wait another second; I had to calm his fears. I put my left hand on his right thigh.
"Travis, I do feel the same way. I think I love you. I know I do. I have never felt this way before."
"Do you really mean it? Do you really think you love me?"
"Travis, I know I love you."
"I love you too, Luke, I really do," he said tenderly, as he put his right hand over my left hand.
He pulled the Honda over to the side of the road. He looked into my eyes. I felt his hands pull my head towards his and he kissed me gently on the lips. I kissed him back, my whole body was bursting with pleasure. I felt his tongue as it entered my lips searching for mine. I didn't resist him. I wanted this so much, and I wanted to be loved by another. When we had finished our kiss, he looked me square in the face.
"Oh Luke, what are we going to do? How can we be happy, when so many won't understand?" Travis asked me, as he began to tremble again.
"I don't know, buddy. I just know it's right for you and me. We don't have to tell anyone our business," I stated with confidence.
Travis put his hands back on the steering wheel of the car and pulled it back into traffic. We quietly drove towards my house. I held his soft, warm right hand in my left as he wound through the streets heading towards my brownstone.
I saw my house as we approached it and noticed a car parked in front of it. It was Cassandra Tacano's; I recognized it from the funeral. I wondered what brought her to our home; I thought Grandmother was going to go to the office. I hoped I wouldn't have to deal with Miss Bitch-on-Wheels.
I called out to my mother as we entered the house. I could hear voices coming from the reading room. My grandmother's voice was the loudest; I could only imagine what was going on. I decided to step in to see for myself; I dragged Travis with me. I figured if I brought him with me, I wouldn't have to stay long. I decided not to tell my mother about getting the things from my dad's car until after Miss Tacano had gone. I still didn't trust that woman.
"Luke, there you are," Mother said, her blue-green eyes looking at me through her glasses.
She sat in one of the kitty-cornered chairs, with the little antique table between them; Tacano seated in the other chair. My grandmother was standing near the sofa, which was across from the chairs; I noticed as I peered into the room.
"Luke, where have you been?" Grandmother looked in my direction, I noticed how her face relaxed as she did.
"Oh, Travis and I went riding around the city, just to get some fresh air. I need to talk to you when you get a minute."
"Oh, that would be wonderful. I have a minute right now," she said, looking at me.
I watched her as she turned her attention back to Cassandra; her face became tense again. I noticed her hands as they were by her sides; clench into fists. She was wearing her red pants suit; I always thought she looked best in red. Her silver hair seemed to look softer when she wore bold colors.
"Ms Tacano, if you'll excuse me, I have some personal business to discuss with my grandson. I do hope to see you soon. Make sure you leave the office number, so I can call for an appointment. Oh, never mind, I just remembered, we have that number. Don't you have ours?" Grandmother said, with obvious discontent in her voice.
"Yes, Mrs. Rogers, I have the number. I am sorry to come unannounced. It was just that this German fellow sounded so important. I thought I should come right over." The phony sweetness in Tacano's voice sickened me.
I couldn't help but feel this woman was on some sort of a fishing expedition. I just didn't know if she knew more than she was letting on, or trying to find something out that we didn't know ourselves. I would have to find out. I was sure Travis would help in my quest to find the answers to the mystery that seemed to cloud my father's death.
My grandmother just nodded her head as she departed the pink room and led Travis and I into the dining room. She moved with such grace and dignity, there was no question in my mind who was in charge now. The three of us filed into the dining room. My grandmother closed the door so our conversation wouldn't be overheard.
"Oh, Luke, I hate that woman. I have never detested anyone as much as I seem to detest her."
"I know Mrs. Rogers, she is something," Travis said, in total agreement.
"Grandmother, we went to Father's car. We got the things out of it; my picture was in there, with some files. We left them in Travis' car," I reported to my family matriarch.
"Really?" Grandmother smile at me. "You are something. Don't go getting into any trouble, you two. We'll have to take a look at those things after that woman leaves."
I felt so proud of myself. I was also happy that my grandmother seemed to like Travis so much. I felt her warm hands, with the long delicate fingers, as she clutched my cheeks and drew me near her to kiss my forehead. It was something that I cherished; the expression of love from my grandmother. It made me feel as loved as when my mother would touch her palm upon my head when I would be ill. The touch only a mother or grandmother had. I sometimes feel those touches when I am lonely, I picture them in my mind and I am comforted.
"Why don't you two young gentlemen run to your bedroom. I'll tell Helga to make dinner. We can talk about all this at dinner. OK?"
I nodded and looked at Travis. I saw how beautiful he was. I was truly in love with my friend. I had a slight thought of what we could do in my bedroom, now that the truth had been told. I felt a little guilt with my thoughts and my body involuntarily shuddered.
"Come on, Buddy, I'll beat you at a game of Mario Brothers, or something."
Travis was right at my heels as we raced up the stairs to my bedroom. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing I was. I could hope, couldn't I? Am I bad? We burst through my bedroom door. He was behind me, so he closed the door. I felt his arms as they grabbed a hold of me from behind. I felt my body being pulled into his, my back to his front; it was total heaven. I relaxed in his embrace, his arms locked around my stomach.
"Luke, I love you so much," he said, as he turned me around to face him.
"I love you, Travis. I love you, too," I whispered, and then we kissed each other.
I heard a faint knock on my door. I quickly pulled away from him, I jumped to take a seat on my bed to hide the swelling organ trapped inside my pants. The damn thing sometimes had a mind of its own. Travis let out a sigh, and took a seat in the chair near my computer center.
"Come in!" I said, with a slightly raised voice.
The door opened and Helga stepped in to my room. She was looking her usual self again, I noted.
"Mr. Luke, I was going to make steak for dinner, with potatoes au gratin. Would that be all right?" Helga asked.
I liked being the man of the house; it seemed that I had acquired some new responsibilities. I have to admit, being only fifteen and now the one to approve of the dinner menu, made me happy; I would never have to eat liver again. That was the thing that made me the most thankful.
"Yes, Helga, that will be wonderful," I told the maid.
"It should be ready by six. Oh, and your grandmother would like you gentlemen to dress for dinner." Helga simply informed me and quietly left.
I was in my full delight; I had a friend whom I loved, and he loved me back, as well as being the new man of the house. I remembered what brought all these new privileges to my life and began to sob. I couldn't help but feel the sting of guilt, because I was feeling joy so soon after my father had died. I didn't think it was right. I sat on my bed with Travis across the room and just sobbed.
"Luke, are you OK?" Came his soft voice.
"Ahhh, yes. I just don't know how I am supposed to react to everything and can't help but be overwhelmed with thoughts of remorse. I'm happy when I should be sad."
"Why should you be sad? Because your father died? Do you think he would want you to sit around being sad? Not if he really loved you; he would want you to go on with your life and be happy. You have no reason to be guilty, life is what it is."
I just realized another thing that we could add to his list of attributes: sensitivity, Travis was the most sensitive person I knew. I only hope we will be friends for a long time to come. I needed someone in my life who was my age, who understood what I thought and felt. I watched him intently as he crossed the room and took a place next to me on my bed.
"Come on now, let's play some video games." Travis pulled me from the bed to the computer center.
I looked at the clock; it was five-thirty, so I figured we'd better get dressed for dinner. I knew I would have to loan him some clothes; he didn't seem to mind borrowing them. He had talked to his mother earlier in the week. She told him he could stay with us the whole vacation, as long as he celebrated Christmas with her.
Christmas, shit, it was only two days away. I suddenly remembered while we dressed. I had to do more shopping. I hadn't gotten Travis anything. Hell, I didn't even have a clue what to get him. Oh, the dilemmas of my life. I hate shopping at Christmas time, I really do. I hate all those whiny people whose patience had long since departed them. I would have to brave the crowds; I had to get Travis something that said 'I love you.'
The four of us ate dinner together. It was a quiet dinner. We told my mother about the stuff in my father's car. Afterwards, we brought it in and showed her. She decided she would wait until the morning to call the German Art Dealer; she wasn't sure about the time difference. We decided that if we called him about the same time he called us, we'd be safe.
After dinner, Grandmother decided to take us into the city to see the lights and decorations. The five of us, we took Helga along, got into my grandmother's car. She asked Travis to drive; it was a great time. We all seemed to be caught up in the spirit of the holiday. I could not remember another time that we had taken Helga with us. I think my grandmother really took people as they were; she never seemed to care where people stood in the status line of the social structure that so many seemed to cling to. Nope, not my grandmother, she took people as they were. I remember wondering how my father got to be so stuffy and full of himself.
As we drove around the city, I couldn't help but think of what Travis and I would be doing later in my bedroom. I was entranced in the thoughts of my newfound love. For the first time in a long time I was looking forward to Christmas. I imagined how happy I would make Travis with the gifts I would shower him with. We took our time meandering around downtown Boston, looking at all the glorious sites of the Christmas Season.
I certainly hope you are still enjoying the ride, it's about time the two boys got that off their chest. I know you all wanted to know what was so important, yet so long in coming. Just like you guys. Hehe, was that a pun?
Well thanks for your time. Send me your thoughts, e-mail address is Justin69SK@aol.com
I'd like to thank Jeremy and Wayne for editing this chapter while Ed is temporarily away.
Talk to you all soon.
Just, Justin