*** !!WARNING!! *** Gay fiction about to begin!
If you're not old enough please come back when you are. If you're not allowed to see this wherever you're accessing it from don't! You should go now at a run--if not, it's your neck and don't say I didn't warn you to leave. And last but not least--if you are offended by the thought of homosexuality then you're in the wrong place. Please go back the way you came in or you will be offended.
Also, these characters come from my imagination. I know of no one like them in real life. Any one who sees himself or anyone they know should mark it down as a coincidence.
And Now, A Word From the Author...
Hi everyone. This chapter was almost finished several months ago but was not finished because I received some bad news. My mother was diagnosed with cancer and given six months to live. I felt my place was at her side because she had always been there for me. Everything in my life was put on hold as she battled the disease. Now the battle is over and I'm slowly getting my life back on track. I hope you will agree that family comes first.
Now, let the story continue . . .
It had been almost two months since they first made love, and nearly a month and a half since Jeremy had taken Ian up on his offer to move in to the restaurant owner's loft. Jeremy had even gone so far as to go to work part-time at the restaurant to earn extra money.
It turned out it was extra money he did not really need immediately. Jeremy made a surprising confession to Ian when he showed Ian his bank book. Of course, Jeremy had shown Ian the bank book to prove he was capable of paying his own way, but Ian was shocked to find that Jeremy could have taken his time about finding work. Jeremy was not as penniless as the apartment where Ian met him had suggested. Apparently, an escort could make a comfortable amount of money when they did not have to pay a booking agent, or a pimp.
Ian could not remember a time when he personally had been happier. At the moment however, Jeremy was not very happy.
Jeremy had not been living with Ian more than a few days when he made another decision. Jeremy announced that he had decided to go back to high school and finish his senior year so he could graduate. Ian had been so proud when Jeremy decided to go back to high school instead of just taking a GED exam that in a show of support, Ian had surprised him with a desk of rich mahogany the day after Jeremy announced he was going back to high school.
It was a large roll top desk that had more drawers and compartments than Jeremy had ever seen before. Of course, Ian argued, what would a desk be without a chair; so there was an executive's office chair to go with the desk. Jeremy protested saying it was all way too much, but Ian insisted that he would need it for just the purpose the young man was using it for at the moment.
There were other things that needed to be done before Jeremy could go back to school. The biggest thing happened when they contacted the local high school's guidance counselor. The counselor advised them that a tutor and some homework would be the best preparation for Jeremy to go back to school in a few short weeks. Jeremy was reluctant, but Ian thought it was a great idea if for no other reason than to help Jeremy brush up on the things he had already learned. Jeremy knew Ian had a good argument but he just did not want to give up any time they had together. In the end though, Jeremy agreed to be tutored.
The young man was sitting at the new desk in his room doing homework when Jeremy let out a cry of frustration, "God, I hate math!"
Ian felt a pang of sympathy. Math, the more sophisticated levels of the subject, had never been his best subject either.
"Why the hell do I need to know about quadratic equations anyway?" Jeremy demanded.
"But it'll be worth it when you pass," Ian called from the dining area.
"If I pass." Jeremy corrected him.
The phone rang before Ian could say anything reassuring.
Ian went to the living area to answer it. As he picked up the cordless phone's hand unit he looked back toward Jeremy's room and smiled. Holding his hand over the mouthpiece Ian called out, "I know you'll pass."
In his room, Jeremy sighed. He wished he felt as confident.
"Shea's residence, Ian speaking." Ian said into the telephone as he started walking back toward Jeremy's room.
There was silence on the other end.
Ian reached the open door to Jeremy's room and found that Jeremy had turned his attention back to his homework.
"Hello?" Ian asked the quiet telephone.
Ian watched Jeremy's brow knit in concentration as finally, a woman's voice asked on the other end, "Is Jeremy Mason there?"
"Yes he is," Ian replied. He had only spoken to the woman once, but he made it a point to remember her voice. "Just a minute, I'll get him."
Ian looked over at Jeremy while putting his hand over the mouthpiece, "It's your mother."
"Mom?" Jeremy looked up in surprise. "Really?"
"Yes." Nodded Ian. He held out the hand unit with his hand still covering the mouthpiece. "You want to talk to her?"
Nodding, Jeremy practically jumped from his chair, walked over, and took the phone from Ian's hand. He was clearly nervous as he put the phone to his ear. Ian stepped around behind him and put an arm around his shoulder. From the stiffness of Jeremy's body, Ian knew the young man was tense.
"Mom?" Jeremy asked cautiously.
"Hi, honey." The woman's voice smiled in his ear.
"Hi." Jeremy smiled at the sound of her voice. It was her. She sounded as happy to be talking to him as he was talking to her. He could not believe how good hearing her voice made him feel. He suddenly realized how much he had missed her. He slipped his free hand up around Ian's arm while biting his own lip. He would not cry!
"How are you, Sweetheart?" The sound of her voice told Jeremy she missed him too.
"I'm cool." Jeremy shrugged. It was like he was still at home. Without thinking he said, "I'm back in school."
"Oh honey, that's wonderful." Came the happy reply. "I'm so proud of you."
Jeremy blinked. He would not cry, but her words seemed to be a salve on a cut he never knew he had. He felt his heart swell with the same satisfaction and pride it did when Ian said those same words to him.
"Jeremy," her voice suddenly became serious. He remembered that tone and what it meant.
"What's wrong, Mom?" Jeremy asked concern in his own voice.
She sighed, "Son, your father's had a heart attack. He's not doing real well right now. The doctor wants to operate next Monday. They want to do bypass surgery."
Jeremy stiffened. He felt a mixture of anger and fear. He had never forgiven his Dad for throwing him out on the street with nothing but the clothes on his back. At the same time, the thought of his Dad dying tied his stomach in a painful knot.
"Why don't they operate right away?" Jeremy asked.
"The doctor says your father's not strong enough right now. They want him to rest a few days and build up his strength. They say it'll give him a better chance at surviving the surgery." Replied his mother.
"What do you want me to do?" Jeremy asked.
Ian was shocked at how distant and cold the younger man's voice was.
"I need you here, son." Jeremy heard his mother say. "You don't have to see your father, but I need you right now."
Jeremy let out his breath. He was so afraid she was going to ask him to make up with his Dad. He suspected in the back of his mind that she would bring it up when she saw him.
"Where are you?" Jeremy asked.
"The cardiac intensive care unit at Thornapple Memorial Hospital." Replied his Mom. "You remember where that is?"
"Yeah, I remember." Jeremy nodded not thinking she could not see him. "I can be there sometime tomorrow."
"Thank you, son." She sounded so relieved.
"Okay, Mom, I'll see you then." Jeremy said.
"I love you, Jeremy." She said. "Oh, and I hope you can bring your friend with you. I'd like to meet him."
Jeremy started to say Ian was more than just his 'friend', but decided against it. Instead, he replied, "If he'll come, okay."
"Bye, son." She said and Jeremy could hear the love in her voice. "I'll see you then."
Jeremy hung up the phone.
"What's wrong?" Ian asked sounding concerned. He had obviously heard something serious in the conversation between mother and son.
"Dad's had a heart attack." Jeremy said. "Mom wants me there. Says she needs me."
"I'll get you a first class ticket on the next flight out." Ian said.
"No, I'll do it." Jeremy said. "You've bought too much already. I can pay for it."
Ian hugged him tight wisely choosing not to push the issue. "Okay."
Jeremy knew Ian meant well by offering to pay for the trip, but something in him said he had to pay for it himself. Of course that 'something' had a name; it was called pride. If his suspicion was right and his mother wanted father and son to make up then being able to pay his own way was something Jeremy knew his father would respect.
Ian kissed the top of Jeremy's head and asked, "Did I hear an invitation to come along?"
Jeremy nodded, "Yeah. Mom wants to meet you."
"I'd like to meet her too." Ian said slipping his other arm around Jeremy and pulling him closer. "Finally."
Then Ian turned the young man so he could look in Jeremy's eyes. "I insist on buying my own ticket."
Jeremy nodded. With that decided, Ian drew him back in to his arms.
Jeremy closed his eyes, turned around, and wrapped his arms around Ian. He buried his head in the crook of Ian's neck and held on tightly. Why did he suddenly feel so scared and weak like a little boy frightened by the thunder? And why was he shaking?
Ian just held him.
Ian looked up at the clock, it read eleven pm. They would have to get up early in the morning to make it to the airport by nine am. He put down the book he had been reading and rose from the sofa. He went to the back of the loft where Jeremy was busy on his potter's wheel.
Together they had cleared out an area in the storage area and set up Jeremy's potter's wheel. Jeremy was making clay vases again, and there were a couple of them around the apartment, and one on the piano in the restaurant. Now that Jeremy was no longer selling his body for sex to make money he had picked up his hobby again.
Ian found Jeremy up to the elbows of both his arms in spinning clay. Actually, only one arm was inside the wet, red clay that spun on the turntable. The other arm held a stylus that Jeremy was using to put a line in the outside of the moist material. They had put up a counter near the wheel so Jeremy could sit his finished pottery there to dry when he was finished. Ian noted that there were five other clay vases sitting on that counter in various stages of drying.
Ian studied Jeremy's face. Jeremy had a look of focused concentration on his young face giving all his attention to the line he was drawing on his newest project.
Ian watched Jeremy finish the line he was drawing and then turn to put an unpainted clay vase in to a small kiln they had found. It was the one thing that Jeremy had not objected to when Ian bought it for him. Jeremy's first projects were the ones in the loft and the restaurant. Ian had been impressed with his talent, but even if he had not he would have been proud to display them anyway because they were Jeremy's.
Jeremy closed the door to the kiln before Ian spoke.
"It's eleven o'clock, Jeremy. We need to get up early in order to get to the airport in time."
"I'll be in when I'm done with this." Jeremy said. "You go on to bed."
Ian looked hurt but said nothing. By the serious look on Jeremy's face, Ian could see that the young man was worried. He knew that Jeremy and his father were not on speaking terms, and tomorrow's trip was weighing heavily on his mind.
"Okay." Ian said as he walked over to Jeremy. He kissed the younger man on the lips. "I love you."
Jeremy's face brightened. "I love you, too."
Ian reached up with his hand and gently caressed Jeremy's cheek. "Don't be too long. You'll need all the rest you can get for tomorrow."
His face grew solemn again as Jeremy nodded, "I'll be in soon."
With that Ian turned and went to bed.
The alarm clock started its incessant buzzing. It was loud and obnoxious as all electronic alarms were, but it did the job it was designed to do. Ian opened his eyes and groaned.
Ian reached over only to feel the mattress beside him. Jeremy's place in their bed was empty. Ian sat up and looked where Jeremy should have been. They had not slept apart since Jeremy had given up his life as an escort.
Ian climbed out of bed and went searching for his lover dressed in his pajamas. The alarm clock was left alone making its annoying electronic buzz to no one.
Ian checked Jeremy's room. The door was open and when he pushed it open further to look he found the bed was undisturbed. Jeremy had not gone to sleep in his room. Closing the door, Ian knew where he should be looking.
Padding through the house to the storage area, Ian quietly opened the door and peeked inside. Ian could see Jeremy seated at the bench where his vases dried. There were four unpainted vases sitting there. Jeremy looked like he had fallen asleep in front of a fifth vase that was finished.
Ian entered the room quietly walking barefoot to the bench. Jeremy was definitely asleep with his head cradled in his folded arms on the bench. In front of him, Ian examined the vase. It was painted blue with two white patches. There were flowers painted in one of the white areas, and in the other were the words, 'love you Mom'.
Ian carefully moved the finished vase out of the way and then shook Jeremy. Jeremy's brows knitted and he opened his eyes.
"Good morning." Ian said softly. "It's time to get up."
Jeremy nodded and sat up.
The window shades were lowered not to block out the sun but keep out prying eyes. There were posters of rock bands on the wall and a stereo sitting in one corner. There were racks on either side of it lined with CD's.
On the opposite wall was a bed. On the floor around the bed were discarded clothes strewn about as though no longer wanted or needed. There were two pairs of jeans, two pairs of shoes, two shirts, and etcetera.
In the bed a pair of lovers spoke an ageless language. There are no words to this language of passion. Communication was done through gentle caresses and passionate kisses. Dark hands run through curly orange hair and dark brown eyes stare in to emerald green ones. Dark full lips kiss pale lips passionately.
Suddenly the door was flung open slamming loudly against the bedroom wall. The surprised lovers' heads pop up to find a red faced man standing in the doorway with murder burning in his eyes.
"I knew it!" Bellowed the man.
The surprised lovers scramble from the bed. The stand naked and exposed, fearful because they do not know what will happen next.
"Get out!." Screamed the enraged man. "Both of you get the fuck outta' my house."
"Jack, you don't mean that?" his wife asked terrified.
"Yes I do!" shrieked the man. "I knew it was a mistake letting that black trash in my house. And I will not have a nigger lovin' queer under my roof. I don't care if he was my son."
"Dad!" Jeremy cried.
"Don't Dad me!" Jack Mason screamed back. "You are not my son! I didn't raise a queer, and I won't have one in my house! Get out!"
Arms outstretched, Jack lunged at Jeremy.
Jeremy jerked awake. He looked around quickly moving his head from side to side. He saw rows of seats with people sitting quietly either reading a book or a newspaper, or working on what Jeremy figured were probably order forms or report forms.
Jeremy sighed realizing he was just reliving the past in his dreams.
"Are you all right?" Ian asked from the airline seat beside him.
Jeremy nodded, "I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" Ian's voice sounded concerned. "You said, 'Dad, don't.'"
"I was just having a nightmare." Jeremy said. "Really, I'm cool."
"Tell me about it." Ian said pleasantly as though what he was saying was as simple as asking for a drink of water.
"Not much to tell." Jeremy shrugged.
"Uh huh," Ian's tone said he did not believe it for a minute. "I know you better than that. It was bad."
"I'll be fine." Jeremy dismissed the entire event.
Ian's hand slipped over top of Jeremy's. With a gentle squeeze Ian said, "Okay, I won't push. But I'm here when you want to talk about it."
Jeremy was mildly annoyed. Ian had not said 'if' he wanted to talk, but 'when' he wanted to talk. The man knew him too well, and at times like now it was irritating as hell. The worst part was that Ian was right. Sooner or later Jeremy probably would tell Ian about the nightmare. He did not want to, in fact, Jeremy did not want to discuss his bad dream at all.
Jeremy decided to change the subject. "Will Owen be alright handling things while we're gone?"
Ian nodded, "Owen has been with me for a long time now. I trust him to handle things while I'm gone. Besides, he knows how to reach me if he really needs too."
"But won't the customers miss you at the piano?" Jeremy asked.
Ian shook his head, "No, a friend of Jonathan's is taking my place. I've heard him play and he's very good."
Ian cocked his head, "You almost sound like you don't want me along."
Jeremy shook his head, "No, I'm glad you're here."
Ian looked concerned, "Then what's wrong?"
Jeremy sighed, so much for not talking about it.
"My father and I haven't spoken since he threw me out of the house."
Ian's eyes got a dark look to them. The only time Jeremy had seen that look before was just after he found out what Marcus was doing to Jeremy. That look had been darker, and cold.
"You remember the night you surprised me with all my stuff?" Jeremy asked.
Ian's face glowed, "I'll never forget it."
"Remember what I said just before I threw the pillow at you?" Jeremy asked.
Ian nodded, "Something about having the same kind of fight with Toby."
"Well, what I didn't tell you was that it ended the same way ours did, but Toby and I never got to finish. My dad came in and caught us first."
Ian could see the faraway look in Jeremy's eyes, and the pain. There were no tears though, only an icy hardness.
"That was the night he threw me out of the house. I haven't seen him since then. I haven't talked to Mom since that night either." Jeremy said sadly.
Ian began to understand better Jeremy's reaction after his mother had called. For just a moment, Ian wondered how he would have faired if his own parents had taken the news of having a gay son like Jeremy's father had. How different would Ian's life have been if his father had disowned him?
Just then a voice came over the airplane's loudspeaker, "Ladies and gentlemen, the seat belt signs are now lit. Please return to your seats and fasten your seat belts for landing."
Ian fastened his seatbelt and then looked over at Jeremy. He had fastened his seat belt and was sitting there gripping the seat. Jeremy was facing forward but the look of fear in his eyes was not from any fear of flying. Ian did not have to be told it was the fear of seeing his parents again.
"Here we go." Ian heard Jeremy mutter softly.
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- To be continued... * * *
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- SPECIAL NOTE * * * *
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At the time I started writing this chapter I received news that a long time reader had lost the love of his life. I was both honored and humbled to learn that some of the best times they had spent together came when reading these chapters. I do not know the details of their lives, but from his letter I came away with a sense that theirs was a true love story. The survivor spoke of the fact that so often the search for love is a struggle. A struggle that is made worthwhile when at last real love is found.
In the spirit of that worthwhile struggle, I dedicate this chapter in honor and memory of "Gordy".