The right of the author has been asserted. All characters in this story are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
No part of this story may be reproduced, by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the author.
Do not read this if you are under the age of 18 or the legal age in the country or state you live in.
This story contains scenes of explicit homosexual sexual acts between two individuals, if this offends you, please leave now.
Author's note:
Dear readers, I apologise for taking so long with this chapter. I hope you like this one. Sadly this story will be coming to an end in the next chapter. I sicerely hope you have all enjoyed reading about Dean and Cian. Please send your comments to mystories92@gmail.com. Please enjoy!
Chapter 9: Solitude
Cian
Where is he? I thought to myself on Sunday afternoon. I hadn't seen Dean since our date on Friday. Saturday I tried going over to his house to see him. Needless to say that was a day I wouldn't forget. I knocked on the door and waited. His mother opened the door.
"Hello Mrs Mason, is Dean home?" I had asked her, pasting a smile on my face.
Mrs Mason eyes were wild when she saw who had knocked. Her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed into a thin line. She shot daggers at me with her eyes and though I couldn't feel them physically my mind reeled from the mental stabs.
"YOU! You stay away from here. That fag son of mine is gone, along with his bastard fag father!" She screamed at me. I was shaken. She then slammed the door in my face.
I had a lump in my throat. What happened yesterday? Somewhere deep down I felt responsible for what happened, even though I knew that it couldn't be. I turned from the porch and made my way back across the road. I went inside straight to the kitchen and sat at the table. I hadn't even noticed Mrs Tennyson, who had happened to see the encounter through the kitchen window. I was startled when she murmured my name.
"Nora! I... I didn't see you..." I mumbled, keeping my eyes focused on a stain on the table cloth.
"My dear boy, I saw what happened," she said as she moved around and put her arm around my shoulder.
"He's not at home... and I don't think he'll be coming back," I said, putting my elbows on top of the table and placing my head in the palms of my hands.
"I'm not surprised that they moved out, though the circumstances surrounding the reasons why, are completely wrong, in my opinion. I knew the Masons were on the verge of divorce," Mrs Tennyson said, gazing out the window again.
I thought back to last night, wondering how this happened. We walked to his front door and I greeted him. I... I KISSED him in front of his house! Shit! This is all my fault. They must have seen it through the window. "I don't have a way to contact him Nora," I told Mrs Tennyson.
"Don't worry dear. I'm sure you'll see him on Monday at school."
I wondered about that.
"Tea!" I exclaimed as I jumped up from the chair. This would a thing that I would begin to do when I felt worried or anxious. "Would you like some tea Nora?"
"Thank, you dear." I think Mrs Tennyson knew I needed to do something with my hands.
I busied myself making the tea and hoping that wherever Dean was, that he was safe.
Now, today, I still had no news from Dean. I decided to go to Julian's place and talk to him. I knocked on his door and he opened after a few seconds. He smiled when he saw me but it died as soon as he saw my anxious look. "What is it, mio figlio?" he said as he ushered me into the suite.
"It's Dean, I'm worried about him," I said as I sat down on the sofa.
"Hmmm," he encouraged, eyeing me speculatively.
I told him about what happened at Dean's house and that I had no idea where he was. I had no means of contacting him.
"I'm sure you will see him tomorrow at school," Julian said, taking out two sodas from his mini bar.
"Hmmm," I said taking the soda. I hoped I would. I looked at Julian and felt a surge of love for him. He'd become an important fixture in my life, as a friend and a father. "When are you planning on going to see my mother?"
He looked at me and smiled, reclining on the sofa next to me. "I spoke to her yesterday as a matter of fact."
"Oh?"
"Yes, I told I would be seeing to you here first and then I will join her in South Africa. While you've been busy at school and falling in love, I've been looking for the perfect place for you to stay," Julian said, picking up a folder form the side table next to the sofa. I hadn't noticed it before.
"Really? That's really good of you. Where is it?" I asked sitting up straighter as he moved closer to me. Despite my now purely platonic feelings for him, I still couldn't help but notice him as a man. His right arm bumped against my left and I could feel the strength in them. They bulged, but overly so. He smelt like old spice, my mother loved old spice, and he was cleanly shaven. His long fingers gripped the folder daintily and opened it.
"It's actually a house, not big, just the right size for you, I think. It's quite close to the school and near to the place you are staying at now. I know you've grown close to the family living there," he said as he handed me some photographs of the property in question.
I gaped at the pictures. Surely Julian was joking. "Julian, you said it was small... compared to what, the White House?"
At least he had the decency to blush, which looked cute on him, but then he grinned widely, "You are exaggerating, figlio," he chuckled.
"Am not! This place is a palace," I exclaimed. I looked at the pictures again. The outside was magnificent. Elizabethan in style in brown hues and oak. The surrounding grounds weren't extensive, but it was green in lush, seeing that it was in the middle of the city. The next few pictures showed the inside. Exquisitely furnished in typically oak furniture and warm brown towns and patterns of the early British Queens rule. This was anything but a house.
"Do you like it?" Julian asked, in a tone portraying the little devil on my shoulder, but my conscience, the angel on the other shoulder was telling me that this was too much, and I voiced this opinion. "I can't live in a place like that. Besides, I'll be living alone."
"Just tell me this, figlio, do you like it?" he said as he put his hand on my shoulder.
The glint in my eye must have answered my question before I voiced it. "I love it, dad."
"That is enough for me. You will have the house. Besides, you will officially be my son soon and I want what is best for you."
"But I can't!" I argued.
"Too late, I already bought the place," he grinned mischievously at me, closing the folder and setting it aside.
"W-wha... but..." I was speechless. I was basically tricked into this. Julian tapped my chin, making me aware that my mouth was hanging open. He chuckled, got up and paced to the window. After a few seconds I just started laughing and he joined in too. "I guess this is why your business is so successful."
"Damn right!" he exclaimed.
"Alright, I'll move in, but on one condition."
"Name it," he said, confident that he could provide it.
I smiled evilly at him, "Dean and his dad move in with me."
His smile dimmed a little and I was satisfied that I'd got him to change his mind. I was sure he wouldn't want me moving in with my boyfriend and his gay father.
Julian's smile widened again, "Done!"
An hour later I left for home. I had learnt my lesson never to negotiate with a shipping mogul. Hmm, I'd have to work on that.
Dean
"I don't feel like going to school," I mumbled tearfully into my pillow on Monday morning. My whole mood was still dark and depressing. I couldn't really comprehend what happened on Friday. The last few nights I woke up in a cold sweat, reliving those last minutes at home... or rather I should say my mother's home. I thought mothers were supposed to love unconditionally, no matter what. I guess they were wrong, whoever they are.
Now I'm staying in a motel with my father... my gay father. Does this explain why I'm like that? Why did he even marry my mother? I guess it doesn't really matter now. She doesn't want to be my mother anymore.
"Dean... sigh... are you sure?" I looked at my father through one eye, the rest of my face still mashed into the pillow. He looked deflated. There was no glimmer in his eyes, like I usually saw when he talked to me.
"I'm sure... daddy," I sniffled, starting to cry again. Geez, I'm sixteen and I'm crying like a baby.
"Oh Dean," my dad sighed, moving to sit next to me on the bed. He stroked the back of my head lovingly. It comforted me and I began to stop crying. "I love you Dean, with all my heart. I'll take care of you. You can always count on me."
"I-I love you too daddy." I rarely called him daddy, usually only using it when I was upset or I wanted something from him. No guess what I wanted there...
"Okay, you can stay at home today, but only for today. Life goes on whether we want it to or not. We've got to make sure it doesn't pass us by." He ruffled my hair, stood up and left my room. I was glad. I wanted to be alone at the moment. Having your mother throw you out can have a humongous impact on your life and self-esteem.
I spent the rest of the day in my room, my mood getting blacker. I had completely forgotten that there was a person who wanted me, and that he wanted to be with me. But I couldn't bring myself to get into contact with him. What would he think when he found out that I wasn't living at home anymore, and that I was living with my gay father? Would he assume something was happening between my father and me? NO! I shoved the thought aside. I needed to have more faith in Cian. He was kind, compassionate, loving, understanding and any other kind word I could think of. Then why was he with me? Surely there was someone better out there for him. I soon fell asleep after that, I was emotionally exhausted. But I wasn't sleeping peacefully.
Cian
No, he didn't come to school today. But his father called in to say he wasn't feeling well. I knew why. And it was killing me inside to know that he was suffering alone. I loved him. I was so certain of it now that it was firmly lodged in my mind, and heart. But I couldn't be with him today.
School dragged on and on today. Not even the students' excitement about the junior and senior proms could lift me out of my melancholy. Kayla had tried to get me out of it, but it was useless, and she knew why. I had told her what happened. She hugged me and said nothing. There was nothing to say really. This whole incident reminded me that one person in my life didn't know about my sexuality. My father. He had died before I had the guts to come out to my family. I missed his presence sometimes. Mostly it felt like he was just gone on an indefinite trip and wasn't coming back, that he was still somewhere on the planet. I wonder if he would have accepted me. I'd like to think he would. But there's no use in me dwelling on it now. I had to let go of the past and keep moving forward.
Later, after school, I received a phone call. I had no idea who it was. I went to the phone in the living room and answered. At first no one replied. "Hello," I greeted again.
"Cian?" I heard the soft exclaim of my name and my heart soared into my throat.
"Dean! Are you okay? I went over to your house and..." I stopped, I couldn't say anything further.
"I'm okay Cian. I... I just wanted to hear your voice. So you know what... what happened?" His voice seemed so sad. I just wanted to pull him into my arms and squeeze him tight.
"Yes, I know. Can you tell me where you are?" I asked, really anxious to see him.
"You still want to see me?" he said and I could hear the slight hitch in his voice. He was trying hard not to cry.
"Of course I still want to see you! This is not your fault Dean. It's not your fault," I reassured him. Doubtless he was blaming himself for everything. "Please Dean, I need to see you."
"Okay, I live in a motel with my dad." He rattled of the name and address of the motel. I had no idea where it was, but Mr Tennyson was going to drive me. I'd give him gas money if I had to.
"Thank you Dean, I'll be there as soon as I can. Is your dad at home?"
"Yeah, why?" he asked uncertainly.
"Good, I'm on my way. I have things to discuss with you." I said goodbye to him and made my way to Mr Tennyson.
"Of course I'll take you," he said after I explained things to him. He was a kind man.
On our way to the motel, it was quiet in the car. I gazed unseeingly out the window. I was determined to tell Dean that I knew all about the story he wrote, and that had followed it from the beginning. That I had fallen in love with the character long before I ever met him in person, long before I ever knew that he was staying in the same city.
"You really care for him, don't you?" Mr Tennyson said, breaking me out of my thoughts.
"I love him, deeply."
A few minutes passed before I spoke again. "I'll be moving out soon."
"Really, so soon?" Mr Tennyson said, surprise colouring his voice.
"It's for the best. My stepfather has gotten me a place to stay, and I intend to have Dean and his father moving in with me."
"That's a bold move for one so young as yourself," Mr Tennyson said, but I could tell that he was proud of my determination.
"I've had to grow up quickly, to take care of my family after my dad passed away," I said, and it was true.
"I wish you everything of the best," Mr Tennyson said as we stopped at the motel.
"Thank you very much," I said, closed the door and ran to room 133.
It was a very good motel, not one of those seedy ones I read about all the time. I gingerly knocked on the door and waited. A few seconds later the door opened and a man stood in the doorway. I could easily see where Dean got his looks from.
"Mr Mason. Hello, I'm Cian Jansen," I said as I thrust my hand out for him to shake.
"Cian, it's a pleasure to meat you. Please come inside." He motioned me inside.
I stepped into the room and took a quick look around. It was tastefully furnished and clean. But not where I wanted them to stay. I actually thought about what I was thinking. I was starting to sound like one of those rich tycoons in those Harlequin novels. I didn't care.
"I'll go and get Cian," he said. But before he could move away I took hold of his arm. I barely registered the strength in them.
"You are a good father, Mr Mason, don't forget that," I said quietly. I could see moisture spring to his eyes, but he held them in check.
"Thank you, Cian," he rasped softly, before he left.
Dean
I heard a soft knock on the door and then my dad peeked in. "Dean, Cian is here to see you," he said and then left.
A minute later the door opened again and Cian stepped inside. "Hi," he said.
"Hi," I greeted.
"It's good to see you Dean; I was really worried about you." He came over and sat on the bed near my waist.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled, struggling to keep from crying.
"What for? I told you before, and I'm sure your father did too, you are not at fault. I know that for a fact."
I sat up against the headboard and frowned, "How could you? You don't know much about me."
He sighed heavily and shook his head, "Dean, there is something I've been meaning to tell you."
Oh no, here it comes, he's going to leave...
"Before I came to America," he continued, "I was alone, I didn't have anyone to love me, someone to hold and comfort. It was just me. Sure my family was there and everything, but it isn't the same as having someone you can tell your deepest thoughts to. Someone you can just stare at all the time and now that you can just go on over and kiss them, to know that they are there for you.
"The only comfort I had was in the stories I read... stories about friendship and love and happiness. Sometime I'd get jealous of the characters because they'd get to kiss their partner. And then I came across this one story that took my breath away. My heart ached for the character, for the betrayal he went through, for the nights when he had to listen to his parents argue and think that he was the cause of their unhappiness.
"He was kind and gentle and smart. I fell in love with and I sorely wished this boy was real so that I could give him the love he deserved," he paused for a moment and looked out the bedroom window.
This was all too familiar to me. It was like he was talking about me. And that's when I realized he was! "You read my story!"
He turned back to me with a tear streaked face and nodded, "Yes, I did. And who would've thought that that boy would come to be one of my students at a school where I teach?" Yes, Dean, I read your story. When I met you on that first day, I was really surprised and somehow excited too. My dream had come true. The boy I loved was real."
"You love me?" I asked in wonder. I felt warmness in my chest and my heart fluttered at the thought.
"Yes I love you Dean Mason!" he declared and then kissed me.
I kissed him back with all I had, trying to convey my love for him in that kiss. He drew me close to him and I hugged him tightly as our tongues made love. He was on top of me but he didn't bear his full weight on me.
He broke the kiss and started to unbutton my shirt. I did the same to him, wanting to feel his skin rubbing against mine. Pale white against bronze. He helped me get my shirt off and I slid his off his shoulders as he straddled me waist. I gazed at his torso in wonder and began feeling warm soft, yet firm skin. I could feel him shudder beneath my touch and he leaned down to kiss me again. I could feel his arousal rubbing against mine and a primal need to feel him completely naked and rubbing up against me rushed through my body.
"I want to see you completely naked, Cian."
"You will, my love," he purred in my ears, which caused me to get goosebumps.
I started to snap open the buttons on his jeans and he reciprocated. Soon we were both naked and grinding against each other. His erection hot and big against mine. I gripped his firm butt and tried to pull him tighter against me. We were breathing heard and sweating slightly at our exertions. It wouldn't be long before my pleasure spilled over. I wrapped my legs around his waist and crossed my arms around his neck, but a few minutes later he wiggled loose and started trailing kisses down my body. First my earlobes, then my neck, then he started in on my nipples and I thought I was going to come then and there. All the while his fingers trailed lightly all over my body. He went lower and lower until I felt his breath on my engorged cock. Then he lowered his mouth down my shaft and it sounded like I mewled in pleasure. I had never felt anything like it before and I was thrashing on the bed.
Faster and faster he bobbed, his long hair tickling my skin, until I was right at the precipice. "I gonna come Cian," I managed to get out before I saw stars. I was really intense and my body went rigid in sensory overload. My toes curled and all the while Cian continued to bob as I emptied myself into his mouth. A few seconds later and I petered out, but I was far from finished. It was Cian's turn.
Cian
I gladly swallowed Dean's essence and savoured it. He pulled me up and turned me so I was on my back.
"Your turn," he whispered into my ear. I bit my lip in anticipation. My cock was aching for him and I could feel it throbbing.
His hands roamed my body and he stared at me with his blues eyes. I was mesmerised by him and I didn't want it to stop. He started licking and nibbling on my nipples and I moaned in delight. His tongue circled each one before he bit gently down on each one. He was driving me crazy!
"Dean," I moaned softly.
His hand went straight to my cock and he trailed angel touches all along my shaft. Then he took it into his hand and shuttled his hand up and down, making me gasp in pleasure. All the while his mouth continued its journey down to where my pleasure was now centred.
Then I felt him go down on me and I screwed my eyes shut to keep from just blowing right then and there. His tongue swirled around my head and tickled the underside. God where did he learn to do that! I was breathing heavily now and I was extremely close to coming. His tongue flicked across my slit and I felt his hands gently squeezing my balls.
"I'm going to come Dean," I moaned as I felt my cream rushing to spill into his mouth. I moaned and thrashed on the bed as he continued sucking me.
Finally I shuddered to a stop and Dean let go of my spent phallus. I pulled him toward me and kissed him languidly, tasting myself on his tongue. "Thank you," I whispered to him.
"What for?" he asked me quizzically.
"For letting me love you."