My Bodyguard

By Bill Porter

Published on Nov 15, 2023

Gay

My Bodyguard Chapter 10

A very special thanks to Ed for editing this chapter.

This story is not true.

This is a story of love, trust, hope, and commitment. It is not a sex story. However, this story deals with love between two teenagers. If you are offended by stories involving love between two teenage boys, please do not read this story. There will be some sex scenes in this story; however, sex is not the main theme. If you are under age 18 or 21 or it is illegal to read this story where you live, don't read it.

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Thank you for all your e-mails. If I have missed answering you, I am truly sorry. I have tried to answer all of them. Please continue to send me your comments.


I had another one of my weird dreams last night. I woke up and it was about 3:00 o'clock. I was safe and warm in Mark's arms. I managed to free myself without waking him up. I turned on his laptop and recalled my dream. I wrote this:

'I was back on the Desert Island. I was tied to a stake and there was firewood at my feet. The same six guys who attacked me earlier in the week were dancing around with torches in their hands. This seemed like something out of 'Lord of the Flies'. The six boys were dressed in hardly anything and had war paint on their faces and mud on their chests. They were dancing in a circle and chanting, "Kill the faggot, kill the faggot, burn him, burn him". Just when they were about to throw the torches down and torch me, Mark shouted at them to freeze. They ignored him and he pulled out his 45 automatic and shot all of them dead. He cut my ropes and drew me into his arms. I woke up.'

It sure felt good waking up in Mark's strong arms after that dream. I shut down the laptop and crawled back into bed with Mark. I moved in close and put my arms around his shoulders. I fell back asleep within minutes.

The next time I stirred it was morning. I looked up and saw Mark looking at me.

"Good morning," he said

"Good morning to you, how long have you been awake?"

"About a half-hour, you looked so peaceful I just could not wake you."

"Well, we have a lot to do today, we should probably get going."

"I am going to go for a run. Want to go with me?"

"Not today. I think I will take a shower."

"OK, I will see you in a bit."

I got up and went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I stripped off my shorts and stepped into the spray. The warm water caressing my body felt great. It was almost enough to put me back to sleep. I reached for the shampoo and poured some in my hand. I lathered up my hair and grabbed the soap and soaped my body good. I stood under the warm jets and rinsed away all the soap. The shampoo bottle says 'lather, rinse, and repeat' but I never do. I got out of the shower and dried myself off. Then I brushed my teeth and went back into Mark's room. About the time I finished dressing, Mark came back in. His face was all red and he was sweaty.

"It's cold out there today, Mike. You might want to put a sweat shirt on and your jacket. I am going to take my shower. Be back in a few."

"All right, I will see you in a few."

I started packing up my stuff and just finished when Mark came back in the room. He was only wearing a towel. I cannot help it, I stared. He smiled warmly at me.

"If you want, you can take a picture. I've got a disposable camera in my dresser."

"I'm sorry, was I staring? I'll leave you in peace to get dressed."

"No need to leave. I'll be done before you know it."

He grabbed his shorts and dropped his towel. I was staring again. He just giggled and stepped into his shorts. He reached in his dresser and grabbed a sweatshirt. Then he put on some socks and stepped into his jeans. He grabbed his laptop and packed it up and grabbed his overnight bag.

"Why don't we have breakfast down in the diner before we leave town?"

"That sounds great. We can say goodbye to your mother too."

We went outside and it was cold. It had rained last night and everything was wet. He unlocked his truck and let me in. I unlocked his door for him. He went around the other side of his truck, opened the door, and moved the seat back before jumping in. He grinned at me. Then he started up the truck and off we went. We pulled into the diner and the parking lot was nearly full. We had to wait about 15 minutes to get a table. His mom waited on us and we had a great breakfast. He left her a 20-dollar tip. We then headed back toward home.

We only made one stop on the way home and that was to drop off the video. We talked the whole way back. Mark told me about his old school and growing up in Linden. I felt he was really starting to open up with me. It made me feel good to be his friend. Time seems to fly when I'm around Mark. We pulled into the driveway and went into the house. Mom and Dad were sitting in the living room, talking.

"Hi, Mom, hi, Dad."

"Hi, Mike. Hi, Mark. How was your weekend?"

"It was great, Mom and Dad, I really liked Mrs. Adams, Sam's sister. I also got to meet Ron, Mark's friend. He taught me some self-defense."

"That's great. Son, I do have something to tell you. A friend of mine called me and said that Pastor Simpson is sponsoring a boycott of the store. I think it's pretty funny myself. That old church only represents about one percent of our town's population. The nearest grocery store is 20 miles away and their produce sucks. There are a few convenience stores in town but their prices are really high. What he doesn't realize is I own the property next to the church. I can cause problems for him he is not capable of imagining. If war is what he wants, war is what he'll get."

"I find that hard to believe, Dad. All of the food that you have donated to that church for different causes over the years and he treats you like that. What is his problem?"

"I'm not sure, Son, but he is not the man I thought he was."

"Have you boys had lunch yet?" Mom asked.

"No, but we had a late breakfast. We can probably wait for dinner, what do you think, Mark?" I replied.

"I'll be fine. I have some homework to do, want to join me, Mike?" he questioned.

"Sure, I have some homework to do too. Mark, I'll join you."

"Okay, boys, off to it, dinner will be ready in about two hours."

We went upstairs and Mark put away his stuff and got out his books. We went in my room and started studying. About the time we finished, dinner was ready. Dinner was good. We talked about our visit in Linden. We were just about finished when Dad spoke up.

"Mark, I noticed you have some crooked teeth. I made a dentist appointment for you on Thursday."

Mark turned red and ran from the table up the stairs toward his room.

"What did I say wrong?" Dad asked.

"I don't know, Dad, but I do know he is sensitive about his father. I'll go upstairs and see if I can calm him down. When he is ready to talk I will come get you."

I walked upstairs and knocked on Mark's door.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"It's Mike, can I come in?"

In about 30 seconds he opened up the door. I could see his eyes and face were red. I came in and closed the door. I held my arms out and he embraced me. He once again started sobbing. I held him and rubbed my hands up and down his back. After about 10 minutes he calmed down.

"Mark, when I have a problem I always tell my dad about it. He always knows how to make me feel better. I'm sure he could make you feel better about whatever is bothering you."

"That's fine, Mike, but I want you to be here too. You have shared your trouble with me and now I need to share my troubles with you."

I opened up the door and called down to my father. He came upstairs, walked in the room, and closed the door. Mark and I sat on the bed, holding hands, and Dad pulled up a chair.

"Mark, you know I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you. Each of us has buttons that, if pushed, can set us off. I can't help you unless I know what's going on. You can trust me."

"Mike, Mr. S., I have never told anyone this before. When I was eight years old I went to see the dentist. When I got back, my mom told my dad that I needed braces and it would cost four thousand dollars. My Mom and Dad got into a big fight and the next day my dad was gone. I have not seen him since. Since then I have blamed myself for my father leaving. When you brought up the dentist appointment at dinner, I lost it. I'm so sorry."

And he started sobbing again. I kept holding his hand and put my arms around his shoulder. He rested his head on my shoulder.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Mark," my father replied. I'm going to tell you something not even Mike knows about. When I was a few years older than you, at college, and I had just got married, my parents, Mike's grandparents, were coming to visit me and they never made it. They died in a car crash coming to see me. I never told Mike they were coming to see me when they died. I was devastated. If it were not for your mother, my wife, I might not have made it. She insisted that I get counseling for the grief I was feeling. I blamed myself for my parents' death. I went to counseling and I learned about closure. It took several years to come to terms with that closure. I have tried to keep them alive by continuing to run the grocery store, and by teaching my children the values they taught me. What you need, Mark, is closure. You need proof that your father did not leave because of you, or did leave because of you. You might have an advantage over me. I could no longer talk to my parents because they were dead. Both your parents are still alive. I tell you what I will do. I will try to locate your father and see if perhaps he can contact you in some way. However, it is not your fault your teeth need braces. You can't control that. I'm sure you've heard that before but I think you need to say that to yourself before you believe it. Furthermore, I think you need someone you can talk to. I'm not saying you need to see a psychiatrist, Mark. What I am saying is you need someone you can trust to talk to. I would very much love to be that person for you."

"Whoa, I thought I had problems. Mr. S., I guess you do understand how I feel, times ten. I would love to be able to come and talk to you when I have a problem. This is twice now you have made my problems understandable to me. Although I miss my father and love him, I have mixed emotions about contacting him again. But I will leave that in your hands."

"Speaking of hands, I've noticed you two kind of have your hands all over each other. Is there something I need to know?"

"Yes, Dad, Mark and I decided over the weekend to be boyfriends."

"I kind of figured that when I saw the way you two have been looking at each other ever since you got back. You are going to need to be careful how you look at each other at school. I don't want any more problems on top of what we already have. Also you two have only known each other for a week. I think for now you need to concentrate on the friend part of boyfriends."

"Mrs. Adams had a long talk with us this weekend and she said about the same thing. We also thought it would be a good idea if we talk to you and Sam about what is and is not appropriate behavior."

"I think I can arrange that. In the meantime I'm not going to tell you boys what to do. I am in no position to speak. But be careful as to not hurt each other."

"Well, boys, why don't we go downstairs and watch some TV."

We went downstairs and watched the Fox Sunday night lineup. Mark was laughing along with us and was much calmer. It was good do see him back to his old self. We went upstairs, wished each other good night, and headed toward our rooms. I laid in bed for about an hour and could not sleep. Finally I got up, then walked over to the guest room. I lightly knocked on the door.

"Come in," Mark said quietly.

"Were you able to get to sleep, Mark?" I asked.

"No, I was having trouble falling asleep."

"Me too, can I join you?" I asked.

"Sure."

I crawled in bed with Mark and he wrapped his strong arms around me and in no time I was asleep.

Next: Chapter 11


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