Scooter and Malachi Chapter 6
Parker's Love – Scooter and Malachi
Copyright© 2018 – Nicholas Hall
Chapter Six
"I would lead thee, and bring thee into my mother's house, who would instruct me."
(Song of Solomon)
Brothers, lover, and home
My sleep was restless for several reasons. Not only did Mr. Taylor and Cayden Allison snore, but I was quite unused to sleeping in the same room with people I was unfamiliar with, especially adults. I was more used to the soft, relaxed sleeping sounds of my brother Seth in the bed next to me or the small, soft body of my youngest brother Terrance, who, if frightened by storms or disturbed by a bad dream, would wiggle under my covers seeking protection and comfort.
No, my main source of restlessness was wondering how Malachi was doing. Anxious to not only to see him, touch him, or hear him but to see his reaction when his casts were finally removed. More so, really the primary reason, was my worry his blood tests would be disappointing and show my love is infected with a treatable, but potentially deadly disease! I made up my mind, sometime during the early morning dark, if that were the case, then we'd deal with it – together.
Glancing at the bedside clock, noticing it was five thirty, I decided to get up. Quietly, so not to awaken my snoring roommates, I slipped into the bathroom, took my shower, brushed my teeth, and dressed for the day. Mr. Taylor and Cayden Allison were still sound asleep, so I packed my overnight bag, left it on my bed so we could retrieve it when we checked out, left a sticky note (provided by the motel) to the television explaining I'd gone to the hospital, and left the room.
The motel had a hot, continental breakfast buffet with a variety of offerings. I asked the lady overseeing the buffet if they had any Styrofoam containers I could use to take my breakfast back to my room and she graciously obliged (okay, so I told a fib)! I made two pancake rollups stuffed with scrambled eggs and sausage links, held together with toothpicks, some extra scrambled eggs and sausage, plastic utensils for two, and put them in the container. I looked around, found a paper bag, put a banana and an apple in it, a container of apple juice and one of orange juice, a blueberry and a vanilla container of yogurt, an apple Danish, a blueberry Danish, and a donut and settled the collected breakfast items in the bag. I hefted the bag, wondering if I'd packed too much, hoping it wouldn't burst half-way on my journey and decided it wouldn't. However, the only thing I was missing was a cup of hot chocolate to sip on while I walked to the hospital and remedied that situation before I left the breakfast room of the motel.
I finished the hot chocolate just as I entered the lobby of the reception area of the hospital, greeted those behind the desk with a cheery "good morning," sailed past them, rode the elevator up the floor where to his room was, trotted by the nurses station with a smile and wave of my hand, and stepped into his room.
"I thought you'd be here as soon as you could break loose this morning," Malachi spouted, grinning as I walked into the room. "Couldn't sleep, could you?"
"Nope!"
"Snore terribly, don't they?"
"Yep!"
"What's in the bag?"
"No hug or kiss or simple good morning Scooter? Just what's in the bag?" Smirking, waggling my eyebrows, I peeked into the paper bag first, knowing full well what was in, thought a moment, set the bag down, pulled open my pants at the belt line, peeked down inside, pondering the contents aloud, "One contains something for breakfast and the other a couple of small snacks!"
"I'd love to taste the small snacks, but better stick with breakfast; I'll save the snacks when I'm feeling better and able to enjoy them!" Malachi grinned and waggled his eyebrows right back at me, motioned me closer to the bed, put his arms around me and hugged me. I lay my head on his shoulder, reveling in the closeness, warmth, and affection he felt for me.
"I love you, Scooter!" he whispered in my ear.
"I love you too, Malachi!" I responded with a kiss on his cheek, stood up, pulled the table around, and opened up the breakfast bag.
I sorted out the plastic ware, and set one pancake wrap on one half of the container and left one in the original compartment. As I sorted through the contents of the bag, he chose a banana over the apple ("too much roughage"), apple juice over the orange juice, and blueberry yogurt. The pastries were easy, he wanted the Danish's, which I thought he might, and I took the donut, which I preferred. He also finished off the extra scrambled eggs and sausage. We visited over breakfast like we'd been doing this for years. I was so comfortable being with him and him with me. Every now and then, while we were eating, I'd look up and see him looking at me, a small, but meaningful smile on his face. Malachi loved me just as much as I loved him.
The nurse's aide delivered Malachi's hospital breakfast about twenty minutes after I'd disposed of the evidence of us having already eaten. Good thing she didn't look in the wastebasket.
It wasn't bad, I ate the toast, he ate the eggs, and we passed on the yogurt, although we did divide up the link sausage, one apiece.
"I've got more sausage if you want it?" Malachi snickered wickedly, lifting his blanket slightly indicating where the sausage might be.
"Oh, I do," I replied licking my lips, "but, alas, we must wait until the Wizards of modern medicine say we can quench our appetites for now forbidden fruits!"
We both laughed, but we also were serious. We wanted each other, but we could wait. Grandpa Parker always said all good things come in time.
Shortly after Malachi's breakfast tray was carried away by another hospital worker, both of us pleasantly stuffed, Malachi announced he had to piss and to hand him the urinal. Instead of handing it to him, I raised up his blanket, hiked up his gown, held the urinal resting on his balls with one hand, and with the other clasped his large, flaccid, soft, velvety-smooth, warm, pliable penis, slid back the foreskin exposing the perfectly formed head, and put it inside the urinal far enough he wouldn't miss and piss all over. He finished, finally, with a couple of spurts and I jiggled his dick a couple of times to clear any stray drops. I still held it while I moved the urinal out of the way and I felt his cock began to swell.
I'd never touched another guy's junk, ever, except when giving my little brothers their baths, but it's not the same. Definitely not the same! I'd heard of others guys jacking each other off, but no one's hands except my own touched my penis.
The longer I held his cock, the larger it seemed to grow; stiff, yet not stiff; large enough I found it difficult to get my hand around it, but I could. I moved my hand up and down a couple of times, sliding the foreskin back and forth.
"Step closer," Malachi pleaded. "Let me see yours!"
Freeing my hand from his gown, reaching down and unzipping my fly, finally, with great difficulty using only one hand, poked my cock out through my boxer briefs and jeans.
"It's really not that big," I apologized, "compared to yours."
"On you, it looks just right."
Malachi wrapped his hand around my erection, slowly rubbing his thumb over and across my knob, and gently sliding over the very tip, bringing a tightening of my balls and a shiver to by body! The look on his face of desire sent a clear message what he wanted me to do.
"Let me empty the urinal and get a wash cloth!" I pleaded, unwilling to have him release me, but wanting to accede to his unspoken request!
Quickly returning, empty urinal and washcloth, I reached under the covers again, and encountered a much larger, stiffer yet velvety warm, smooth cock, throbbing and twitching with each beat of his heart and convulsing with his desire for release. Slowly beginning to stroke the length, attempting to do what pleased me to him, he urged me to a faster pace.
"I haven't done this before to someone else," I admitted, "only to myself."
"I haven't done it since my hands were put out of commission," Malachi confessed, "so don't surprised if I don't last long and shoot a bunch – and far."
I felt his cock begin to swell, the large tube on the underside begin to pulse, and quickly covered the head with the washcloth. Holding on to his cock, as he ejaculated the stored up reservoir of teen cum, I counted seven hard, large, tremors as he spewed in a strong and long orgasm. His entire body shuddered with the intensity of his pleasure. I kept the cloth under the tip of his cock until he no longer oozed out his white, thick semen and started to soften, watching and gently milking the last of his discharge from it.
"Better take it to the bathroom," he advised pointing at the soiled, now wet with thick, tapioca appearing, liquid, wash cloth. "Make certain you use hand sanitizer and put your dick back in your pants before somebody comes in!"
Oh, my god, I forgot all about it I was so entranced and interested in bringing Malachi pleasure!
His uncles Dave and Cayden seemed to be no wiser when they walked into the room some ten minutes later. Malachi, propped up in his bed, and me, now sitting in a chair, were chatting about the amount we ate for breakfast, having consumed what I brought and most of his the hospital provided. They were followed, almost immediately, by a hospital orderly pushing a wheel chair.
"What," Malachi asked, "no gurney today?"
"Nope," the smiling young man responded, "I'm going to wheel you to a treatment room where the casts are to be removed, push you across the hall to Radiology, and wait for the doctors' decision before I wheel you back here!"
Malachi grinned like the Cheshire Cat, giving me an enthusiastic thumbs up with his left hand, clearly overjoyed with the prospect of getting his casts off, as he was wheeled from the room.
Mr. Taylor and Cayden decided they wanted another cup of coffee while they waited for him to return and invited me to join them in the hospital cafeteria. They treated me to a cup of hot chocolate and we visited, both expressing their concerns how Malachi was doing, specifically emotionally. Evidently they thought he might tell me more than he'd tell them (they were correct) and expected me to relay it to them. It'd be up to Malachi to say anything to them, not me.
"I think he's doing great!"
Beyond that, I offered no more. They sort of looked at each other, back at me, and decided to move on to more mundane conversation, such as discussing the upcoming resort season and the reservations they'd received. From what I could gather, they were filled throughout the season and would be quite busy.
Before we returned to Malachi's room, I excused myself to go to the restroom, pleading an intense need to urinate. I did, but also quickly rubbed out a load in one of the stalls! I'd been at a high peak ever since jacking off Malachi and watching him as he unloaded his offering into the wash cloth.
The doctor was true to his promise and discharged Malachi from the hospital after lunch. The casts were removed, the elastic brace placed on his foot and ankle, and I wheeled him from the hospital to wait while Mr. Taylor brought the pickup around to the front hospital entrance. As I helped him into the back seat of the truck, Malachi hugged me with both arms around me, sighing,
"I've wanted to do this with both arms ever since you walked up on the porch that day!"
I settled next to him and we were off for home, with only a brief stop at a Wal Mart so Mr. Taylor could buy a set of crutches and a cane for Malachi to use at home. The wheel chair and hospital bed he'd been using up to this time, would be returned to the church they got it from. The church loaned out hospital equipment to those in need. They also accepted donations of equipment in good, usable condition, from those who had no need of it. It was win/win for everyone, those who borrowed the equipment and those who donated it since they received a tax deduction for doing so.
We also had to stop a couple of times to pee, but, unfortunately, both men accompanied us to the restrooms. Restrooms at Interstate rest areas are really, really busy, so all we did was our business and left.
Arriving at my house around eight in the evening, sadly, I gave Malachi a hug, promising to call him in the morning before I left for school, but indicating I might not be able to stop over much this week since the school year was winding down and my folks would want me to continue doing my best. Besides, I knew the fishing opener and resort season would start on the next Saturday and, after overhearing the conversation between his uncles, I knew they'd be really busy this coming week. I wondered what jobs Malachi would have now and during the summer! There was so much to do to running a resort, even a small one like "Cayden's Cottages."
Malachi would also have his course work to finish if he wanted to make certain he entered in the fall as a senior and a classmate of mine. His course work transferred through okay and everything was good to go, if he got everything done this spring. I had no doubt he would; he was smart as hell I thought.
Before I dropped off to sleep, I pondered the changes happening in my life in such a short time. I remembered the question I'd asked Dad while we sat on the dock after Grandpa Parker died; would I find someone to love like Grandpa and Uncle Grant loved each other? There was no doubt in my mind I had.
Malachi answered, the next morning, on the second ring.
"You're up!" Little did I know how much he was "up" until he said, "Part of me has been up for at least ten minutes waiting for your call. If you talk some more, I'm certain that part of me will relax and rest peacefully until I think of you again!"
"Not that `Up'! I'm beginning to think THAT'S up most of the time!"
He assured me it wasn't the case; only when he either talked, thought, or was around me.
I was happy we each had our own cellphones, it made our conversations more confidential, relaxed, and quite personal. I don't know how Dad afforded the number of phones we had. He had a phone, Mom, Seth, and I had our own as well. Boomer and Buzz shared a phone, while James and The Minx were just a little too young, but I'm certain Dad will soon provide one for them as well. Our phones originally were all bundled with our Internet connection and television through our satellite but with the increase of cell towers, we switched over to a cellphone company carrier. Telephone cables were buried along the county road running past our property, along with overhead power lines. Dad talked of adding a land line to our house for convenience and in case we lost signals on the towers. With the growing population in the area, there was talk of broad-band high speed Internet via fiber optic cable, but currently people without satellite connections or unavailable cell tower signal had only dial-up. "Cayden's Cottages" had both a land line and cellphone as well as satellite television for their guests. Malachi's Uncle Dave got him a cellphone right after he came to live with them.
Visiting with Malachi as I got ready for school, I overheard Mom talking on her phone to someone else and mentioned Malachi's Uncle Dave, addressing someone on the other end of the connection. Malachi confirmed to me, when I mentioned it, his Uncle Dave needed some help getting the cottages and the resort ready for the next weekend, which was the "opener."
"I guess they got a little behind taking care of me and all," he confessed.
Seth and I gathered our brothers together for the trek down to the end of our lane where the bus would pick us up. Mom and Dad thought it was a good idea we all rode the bus the since it was nearing the end of the school year and really didn't want us, meaning Seth and me, messing around too much after school. There were chores to do and homework; we always did it anyway with lots of time to spare.
"Boys," she announced, "Mr. Taylor called a little while ago and said they needed some help getting the cottages ready for Saturday and asked if some of you could help a couple of nights after school. I told him, you," pointing at the four of us older boys, "would be there tomorrow and Wednesday, on one condition; he, Mr. Allison, and Malachi would be here for dinner on Thursday night."
I was about to object, since, according to her, we had so much to do at home; homework and all, but I noticed the disappointment on James and Terrance's faces.
"Mom, James and Terrance would be a great help too. I think it's only fair if the four of us can go help, then they should be able to as well."
She reluctantly yielded to my plea for the little boys to go along, much to their delight, and dashed at her, giving her big hugs and kisses. Of course, I got some too.
Tuesday after school, I loaded all of us in my pickup truck and, amidst giggles, laughs, and just general excitement, drove around the end of the lake to "Cayden's Cottages." Most of the chatter from my brothers involved meeting Malachi; wondering what he looked like and what type of guy he was, although they had a pretty general idea from listening to me talk about him, which Seth I did constantly.
The Minx (Terrance) was the only one to make any sort of comment about Malachi's relationship with me.
"I hope he loves you as much as you love him, Scooter, or he'll answer to me," folding his arms in a very determined manner. Terrance wasn't very big, but he certainly could bluster as if he were eight feet tall sometimes.
There are so many times Terrance reminds me of Great-aunt Adele, bless her soul! Her son, Jonathon, my Dad's older cousin (and ours, obviously) served as Grandpa's attorney and was an inspiration and mentor for Dad when he decided on law for a career.
Seth, on the other hand, was more interested in seeing Percy the Parrot!
Malachi was downstairs in the office sitting behind the counter at the desk they used for office work, taking reservations, and doing their bookwork, talking on the telephone. From the sounds of it, he'd already been well instructed on how to take reservations or what to say to those who already had them. I heard him tell whoever it was on the phone they were full, but he'd be happy to write them name down on the list. Nodding, just before he disconnected, he said patiently,
"I understand, but at this time we just don't have any openings. There are several parties ahead of you on our list of people wishing reservations, but as soon as I have an opening, I'll contact you!"
He thanked them, turned and smiled at me. God, that guy could smile; it'd light my life, send chills up and down my spine, and fire iron into my cock! Stepping around the counter, I gave him a hug and, pointing at each one in turn, introduced by brothers, using both their real given names and their nicknames. When I came to James, Malachi smiled,
"I hear you're the handsome, quiet, shy one!"
James just grinned, tipped his head a little bashfully, and sort of shuffled his feet. He looked so cute! James was going to be one hell of good-looking guy as he grew older. Right now, to me, he looked like my little brother, who was so vulnerable at times, and in need of my protection and love. All of which he'd have as he grew.
Seth just grinned at Malachi. "You're better looking than Scooter said you were."
It was Malachi's turn to blush!
The Minx just cut to the chase; "How did you get hurt? Can I see all the cuts and scars?"
"No, you can't see my scars and cuts. Do you really want me to tell you how I got hurt when telling you will make you sad and maybe me cry?"
Poor Terrance, for once, had no retort, so only shook his head slowly, deciding he didn't really want to make his big brother's boyfriend cry. He was saved from further concern or decisions when Mr. Taylor and Cayden came in, greeted us all, and announced they needed some help cutting grass and cleaning up limbs and other debris left over from the winter. Seth and Boomer volunteered for that duty, while the rest of us followed Mr. Taylor to the cabins, all except Malachi who'd watch the office.
The boats for each cottage were already in the water and secured to the docks in front of the cabins. The four of us and Mr. Taylor began at cabin one, cleaning, making beds, checking to make certain all of the dishes, pots, and pans were in the cupboards, as well as toilet tissue and other items. By dark, we were done with Cabins one, two, and started on three and Boomer and Seth were done with the outside work.
Wednesday, after school, we had at it again. On the way over, Seth mentioned he hadn't seen Percy yet, so I promised him I'd "introduce" him later. Since we only had Cabin Four left, James and Terrance stayed in the office to help Malachi arrange the gift shop, put souvenir sweat shirts and tee-shirts and other items on shelfs, and display the limited fishing tackle sold in the office. Live bait was either purchased in town or at the small country bait shop toward the end of the lake near Mrs. Kearney's house. As a result, the resort didn't have to mess with minnows, worms, and other critters which might die or suffer the loss of income from them.
Mr. Taylor, Cayden, Samuel, and Aaron were finishing the last cottage when I took Seth inside the office with the intention of showing him Percy.
I asked Malachi where James and Terrance were.
"I sent them upstairs a couple of minutes ago to get my cane. They should be down in a couple of minutes!"
Oh, my god! I hoped James' wiser head would prevail and prevent The Minx from exploring, trying to satisfy his almost insatiable curiosity!
Seth and I hurried up the stairs, hoping I was in time. Percy's cage was located in the living room just off of the stairs to the second floor where Malachi's bedroom was located. We hustled through the kitchen, where the stairway to the office was located, in through the dining room, and as we neared the living room, I heard Percy whistle and squawk,
"Peek-a-boo!"
We stopped, I pursed a finger to my lips signaling Seth to be quiet, motioned him to follow me, and together we peeked through the door to the living room.
James and The Minx were standing in front of Percy's covered cage. We watched as The Minx carefully began lifting a portion of the covering. Percy whistle, and squawked,
"Peek-a-boo!"
"There's a bird in there!" James exclaimed softly, his eyes big in wonderment.
"I didn't think it sounded like an elephant!" snorted The Minx. "Besides the cage is too small!"
He looked at the cage, carefully considering what he might do next. "I think it may say more if we pulled the cover off!"
"I don't think we should do that!" cautioned James.
"So, who's going to tell on us; the stupid bird?" The Minx was on a mission and it was doubtful if James could deter him in his quest. With that, The Minx pulled the cover off!
Percy whistled "Hello!" and squeaked out "Hi ya handsome!"
"It's a parrot!" The Minx exclaimed excitedly; "a talking parrot!"
With that, Percy broke out in his little song_, "Yank my doodle, it's a dandy!"_
Of course The Minx just thought that was the most hilarious thing ever said, and howled with laughter. James just sort of blushed and smiled.
"He sings!" squealed The Minx.
"And fucks like a rabbit!" shrieked Percy.
James' mouth dropped open, his eyes widened, he looked at The Minx and back at the bird.
"He's kind of dirty-mouthed, don't you think, Terrance? Maybe we better cover him back up and leave," reaching for the cage cover.
Percy, not to be covered up without comment, whistled "Nice ass, handsome!" and waddled over nearer to James. He followed up with another whistle before he called, "well, fuck me up the arse!"
"Oh, my god!" giggled The Minx.
James just stood transfixed as Percy lifted one foot as if to inspect it before crying, "Nibble on my noodle, big boy?"
If The Minx would've just shut up and not encouraged Percy, he might have slowed down, but no- Percy followed with his version of the song; "He'll be cumming on the mountain" followed by a series of nursery rhymes; "Ride my cock, you horse!"
Seth and I walked into the room with that; but would Percy be deterred? Nope, he was bent on really embarrassing James I thought.
He whistled at me, shouting, "hey you with the big dick!" and launched into more nursey rhymes. My god, they were terrible;
"Peter, Peter pulled his pecker;"
"Little boy blue come blow your brother;"
"Peter, peter, pecker eater;" and, the last straw as far as I was concerned, "Little Miss Muffet, sat on a tuffet, watching the two boys fuck!" and whistled proudly.
With every outburst, James would look at me, wide-eyed and mouth agape, back at the bird, and then back at me!
I started for the cover, but Percy delayed my action with, "Malachi loves Scooter!"
Now, that was new, and nice, but never-the-less, I flipped the cover over the cage. The last thing I heard Percy say was "Asshole!"
I took some time explaining they were to never, never, speak of this to anyone, especially Mom. I looked directly at The Minx and threatened with banning him from riding in my truck until he was at least thirteen, maybe fourteen. That's pretty serious for him since he loves to ride in that truck.
James and Terrance heeded my warning, up to a point; they said nothing to Mom or Dad, but after Seth and I told them goodnight, we lingered, unbeknownst to them, outside their bedroom door. We overheard softly, almost unintelligible to us, words being spoken, followed by a louder, "no shit" from Aaron, followed quickly by a "sshhh" from The Minx.
Shaking my head in frustration, Seth merely shrugged his shoulders in response, as we went to our own room.
The house was quiet after Mom and Dad went to bed, but for some reason I was having a difficult time falling asleep! I tossed and turned, would doze off, and wake up. Seth on the other hand, slept soundly, the soft sounds of his breathing deeply in and out was familiar and comforting, but didn't seem to relax me any.
Our bedroom door pushed open slowly, quietly, someone stepped in, and closed the door just as carefully and silently as it was opened before walking toward my bed. At first I thought it might be Terrance, suffering from dreams of a swearing, vulgar, lewd song-singing parrot! The closer the figure came to my bed, I recognized the taller and slimmer body of James in the shadowing dark of our room.
Clad in his pajamas, James walked over, sort of sat on the edge of my bed. "Scooter," he asked softly, "are you awake?"
Whispering back a "yes," and before I could say more, James was under my covers, his head on my chest. I wrapped my arms around him, bringing him closer, offering him my comfort. "Something wake you or keeping you awake?"
I felt his head nod against me. Not wanting to awake Seth, I whispered, "Was it the things Percy the Parrot said? Did they upset you?"
This time I felt his head wag from side to side! This was going nowhere fast so I decided to be more direct. "So, what was it? Something you want to tell me about?"
I felt his head nod up and down as he tried to scooch himself even closer, if possible, and place his lips next to my ear.
"I thought Percy was funny."
Okay, it eliminates the problem I thought it might be, so I waited.
"Does Malachi love you?"
"Yes, he does, James."
"Do you love him?"
"Yes, but not in the way I love you. You're my brother and that kind of love is much different."
"I know!" James paused here as if trying to determine what or how he should say. "Do you know how Malachi got hurt?"
"I think you need to ask him, James."
James shuddered slightly and tears from his eyes dripped onto my cheek. He sniffled softly, trying to curb his sadness. "I heard Malachi and his Uncle Dave, you know, Mr. Taylor, talking about how he was feeling and what happened!"
Again, James paused, collecting his emotions and his thoughts. "Scooter," he sobbed softly, "why would they do that to him? They hurt him awful and it makes me so sad, `cause I like Malachi!"
Oh, boy, I didn't know quite what to say to ease my little brother's pain but I had to give it a try.
"Yes, they did hurt him and badly."
"Scooter, did they hurt him by a whole bunch of guys sticking their, you know, their thingies, up his butthole?"
"Yes, they did, James."
"Scooter," he asked hesitantly, evidently already knowing the answer, but wanting confirmation, "is that rape?"
I could only answer in the affirmative, explaining the difference between consensual and nonconsensual sex, emphasizing how important it is to say "No" loud and clear so there's no mistaking what you mean and if someone persists, scream as loud as you can and defend yourself. If it happens and rape does occur, to report it as soon as possible. I really emphasized how important to remember it's not your fault, someone is taking from you and hurting you in the process. I was really concerned he know what to do since we live in a world where, as cute as he is and good-looking he is becoming, he will be vulnerable. James is a quiet, bashful, boy who, many times appears to be a follower and doesn't really express his feelings as quickly as others.
I explained anal sex, from what I've read, making certain he understood I had no experience with it. When he questioned if there was pain, I could only answer what I'd read, sometimes at first, but not always and it seemed to lessen as time went on. However, when a male, or group of males, violently, viciously, and repeatedly forces his or their penises in the anus of the victim, damage occurs, including tearing of the anal muscles, internal damage to the colon or bowel, and those can be life-threatening. In the process of gang rape, beatings can occur as well as infection from dangerous sexual diseases! I knew no other way to explain it to him except in blunt and direct terms, emphasizing how horrible it is. Rape victims not only have their virtue stolen, but are confronted with a variety of emotional problems, not the least of which might be depression and self-loathing, not to mention to taunts or disbelief by others.
"Scooter, is that the only way?
"No, James, the rapist can also force you to suck his penis by threatening to hurt you or they might suck yours as well!"
"How do the boys keep their stiffies stiff?"
I didn't have an answer to that question, but never hesitated when he asked me the next question.
"Were they white guys?"
"Malachi didn't know; he was blindfolded."
"Will he be okay?"
"I think he will," I responded, hoping I was correct, "if I have anything to say or do about it."
"Good!" James sighed and fell silent. It wasn't long until I felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest against me, sound and peacefully asleep.
"Is he asleep?" Seth asked softly from his bed.
"Yeah; I think I answered his questions."
"I don't think that's the last ones he's going to ask." Raising up from his bed, Seth looked over at our younger brother with the affection and concern we both had for James. We knew we had to keep him safe and educate him in the realities of life. As Seth put it, "no way would I want him to suffer the way your Malachi did."
I guess that's what big brothers are for.
James was still asleep in my bed the next morning. As much as I hated to waken him, we all had to get ready for school. The happy, affable, quiet, shy James we all knew and loved gave me a big hug. "I love having you for my big brother," and trotted off to his own room to get dressed. As crazy as it seems, when James left, I wondered who Seth would share the room with once I left for college after the next year of high school.
School didn't dismiss for the day soon enough, as far as I was concerned, and the bus didn't deliver me to the house as quickly as I wished either. I was so anxious and excited knowing Malachi and his uncles would be over for dinner. I so much wanted him to see our house and meet my parents. The weather was perfect and evening would mean just a light jacket or sweat shirt if we were outside at all.
Dad was already home from the office, getting a couple of grills ready to cook the steaks we were going to have as our main entrée. It's seldom, with so many of us, we have steaks, but this was a special occasion. Dad would cut the steaks in half since a whole one might be more than we (my brothers and me) could eat, but of sufficient quantity the adults, or anyone for that matter, could have a whole steak by eating two halves. Makes sense doesn't it?
Leftover meat would be used by Mom for various other dishes. She loves Chinese food or just Asian cuisine in general, as did we, so would use it all in some dish or the other for future meals. She's an excellent cook and her heritage (third generation Chinese-American) provides us with a variety of dishes. Dad, on the other hand, had tastes a little more varied and somewhat unusual, having spent so much time with Grandpa Parker, who loved French, English, Mexican, and even some real offbeat stuff.
Seth and I quickly changed clothes and left our school bags in our room, heading for the kitchen to help Mom prepare the meal. The other boys would set up the tables and chairs, set the table, and help Dad or Mom wherever they were needed. Mom only decided to have a lettuce salad with a variety of options, including three kinds of dressing, choices of mushroom, black olives, onions, green and red pepper slices, chopped hardboiled eggs, sliced cucumbers, shredded cheese, anchovies, green peas, cauliflower, broccoli, and chopped tomatoes to add to each individual salads. The only other side to the steaks would be roasted vegetables and fresh hard rolls, with apple and cherry pie for dessert. As usual, with most of our meals, there would be a side of rice and one of noodles for those who desired them (we always did).
Our biggest job was helping her prepare the appetizers set out prior to the meal. She prepared a noodle dish with bits of pork and beef in it, sweet and sour chicken with sauce, thin slices of roast duck in a red wine sauce, pickled fish, smoked fish, sticky rice, steamed pork dumpling, egg rolls, crab Rangoon, chicken wings, and small peeled shrimp. Chop sticks, enclosed in a paper wrapper, were provided for those wishing to use them (we did, but doubted our guests would- we each had our own we used for meals but when company came, we used the purchased cheaper ones). What wasn't eaten would be on the table the next day for us to clean up.
Our adult guests would be served before and after dinner drinks while the younger generation would be given choices of soda.
As we worked, Mom evidently noticed my nervousness. Putting her arms around me, she gave me a quick kiss. "Don't worry, Josiah, we'll love him as much as you do. Any young man who captured the heart of my oldest son must love you very much for you to love him back as you do. Besides, it's not as if Cayden and Dave are strangers to Dad and me."
Malachi stepped gingerly from the back seat of Mr. Taylor's pickup truck, steadied himself with his cane, and looked around our large yard, sent his gaze lingering toward the lake, and finally at the house, focusing his attention on me, waiting on the steps!
Bounding down the steps, I slowed my pace nearing him, not wanting to appear overly eager to be with him, and was greeted with a sunshine of a smile, his teeth exposed, glistening white and sparkling, grey-green eyes dancing like emeralds touched with grey highlights, the olive tincture of his exposed face and arms, accentuated by the light beige of a polo shirt, and his slim hips, narrow waist, and rather long legs defined by the slightly darker mocha color of his slacks. His very appearance shivered my very being into a desire so fervid, I felt as though I was a complete wanton, desiring to flip myself on my back, spread my legs, elevate my buns to expose my most sensitive portal for him to enlarge and seat himself! However, given the circumstances, all I could do was to get hard, damned hard, inside my pants.
Malachi's measured, but steady, pace towards me only heightened my desire for him, causing me to think of the various rejoinders Percy might make; "Put your pecker in my pucker," "wiggle your wanker in my winkie," "hammer me with your horn," or "shag me stupid, stud!"
For my part, I wanted to strip him down to his birthday suit, make love to his lips, his breasts, nibble on his knuckles (the two beneath his prodigious prong), then slip back his foreskin, envelope his thick, soft head of his penis in my lips, and suckle him until he delivered his creamy, tapioca-like, essence to my mouth, to be ingested in my system, making him mine!
He wrapped me in his arms, pulled me tight to his body, and I felt, through his pants, his long, thick, very evident arousal! There was no doubt about it, he was hot for me! I was hard as well, my own smaller staff pressing up against his, sending my own signals of desire to him. Malachi leaned down, engaged my lips with his, and we kissed, like we'd never kissed before. Our lips meshed, pressed tight to each other, and wanting to taste each other in the throes of our passion, opened our mouths, and let our tongues explore the inner core of our mouths. He tasted so damned good! With that kiss, he announced to all, we were a couple and we belonged to each other.
I pulled back suddenly and was about to say something, when Mom stepped up. "Scooter, you're not the only one who gets a kiss from this tall, handsome young man," and gave him a kiss on the cheek, welcoming him to our home.
Quickly, I introduced him to Mom. She looked him over and, since she is even shorter than me, said, "My, he's taller than you described him, Scooter, and definitely better looking."
When she stepped back, I slid in beside him. He placed his arm around my shoulder and sort of used me to hide his erection.
I hissed, "Malachi, we kissed with open mouths, our tongues touched, we shared bodily fluids. Remember what the doctor said?" I was horrified what we'd done, perhaps, in my passion our eagerness to be with each other, forgot and committed the ultimate wrong.
Malachi looked at me, a mischievous smile on his face. "Which time? What he said in the hospital or what he told me this morning on the phone? When he said I'm still uninfected and it's unlikely I will be since I inherited CCR5 delta 32 genes from both my dad and my mom?"
To be continued:
***
Thank you for reading "Parker's Love- Scooter and Malachi- Chapter Six."
If you enjoy my stories and the many others found on this free site, please consider a donation. It is your donations which make all of our stories free and available for you to read and enjoy.
Thank you.
Nick Hall
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or locales is entirely coincidental or used in a fictional content.
The Literary works of Nicholas Hall are protected by the copyright laws of the United States of America and are the property of the author.
Positive comments are welcome and appreciated at: nick.hall8440@gmail.com