Seal Rocks

Here is the next (and, I think, next to last) part of the story. Thanks again to those who have taken in interest in it, I do appreciate the input, advice, critiques (well, some of them anyway), and encouragement I've gotten along the way. I hope this story still has some people out there at least somewhat interested in its meanderings, and i hope it holds together as a piece.

As always, places are real but not associated in any way with me or the writing of this story - they're there to add proper local artmosphere and nothing more. This is also entirely fictitious, and if you think anyone here resembles anyone you know (or are), I'm sorry for you and i swear I didn't hack into your system. If anyone is underaged or otherwise legally barred from reading this sort of graphic story, they should by all means not read it - that's your responsibility. Thanks again.

Seal Rocks Part 28

Uncle Booth knocked on Jesse's door a little before eleven. The boys had fallen into a light doze on the bed, fully clothed, though with their shirts somewhat askew, a tangle of long limbs and bangs of salt-crackled hair. Jesse leapt to his feet at the knock, smoothing his shirt nervously, as Mike rolled slowly over and buried his face in a pillow. "It's all right, Jesse," Uncle Booth chuckled. "Nothing shocking to me at all. Can I have you for a minute? And, Mike, I believe your father is on his way up, so you might want to get freshened up for the ride home."

Mike was unimpressed. "Mmmmmpppphhh," came a sulky voice from the depths of the pillow.

Uncle Booth laughed softly and beckoned Jesse into the hall. When the bedroom door closed, he asked, "Your other friend - Erick - couldn't make it?"

Jesse had forgotten. "Oh, geez, no, I'm sorry, he - his dad was having some big dinner thing and all and he, um, he couldn't - "

"That's fine. Can we have a little chat with him in the morning?"

Jesse was rubbing sleep out of his eyes. "Um, yeah, he said he'd be at T Street at like 7 or something - y'know, surfing and all. Training, I guess it is now."

Uncle Booth smiled. "Well, can you make it up that early? You need to start getting out of these summer sleep habits soon enough, you know."

Jesse stifled a large yawn. "Sure, no problem. Um, yeah, I can do that."

Uncle Booth leaned in a little closer. "There's a breakfast at Pipes in it for you."

"I was kind of hoping for that, yeah," Jesse smiled. "Uncle Booth?"

"Yes?"

"How're you - I mean we - how are we gonna do it? Are we gonna like threaten Ernie or whoever, call the cops - I mean we can't like call the cops, can we, 'cuz we'd have to tell all this stuff . . . "

Uncle Booth smiled. "Nothing too dramatic, Jesse. Don't worry, I'm not expecting we'll get shot at or anything. It should be pretty simple. Does Erick like Pipes?"

"Hell, yeah, " Jesse said, forgetting himself. "I - I mean - "

"It's OK, I've heard it before. Worse, in fact, if you can believe it." Jesse laughed - the things Uncle Booth must have heard in his years in the Corps probably made his adolescent vocabulary of obscenity look pretty pathetic.

Jesse re-entered his room to find Mike still face down. "C'mon, dude, your dad's comin'."

Mike threw an arm over his head. "Wan' stay."

Jesse sat on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through Mike's hair. It was so soft, the scalp beneath so warm and supple. He leaned down and buried his face in the base of Mike's neck, among the tangled locks. "God, I want you to stay. So bad." He unconsciously started rubbing his face back and forth in its aromatic nest. "I miss that soooo much."

Mike's arm moved from the back of his own head to hold Jesse's. "Lemme ask my dad, OK?"

Jesse felt a nervous pang in his stomach. I, uh, I gotta see about my mom."

Mike turned his head enough to look at Jesse with one bleary eye. "I thought she was cool - with us, and all?"

"Well, she is, but - well, it's different now - us sleeping over together and all. Especially just us. We like haven't done that since I told her."

"You want me to go?"

"Dude, no. I - I don' ever want you to go, OK? I just - I don't know what she's gonna say, and all . . . " he looked at Mike, whose gaze was now very awake and direct. "OK, lemme ask."

Mike smiled softly. His eyes (well, the one Jesse could see, anyway) closed, and his hand curled in Jesse's hair. "Cool." He sighed. "You can tell her I don' even wanna like mess around. I jus' wanna sleep an' all. With you."

Jesse laughed softly. "Yeah, that'll make it all better, right?" He slid back out of bed and walked downstairs with a resolution he didn't really feel inside.

Uncle Booth was in the entry hall, talking softly with Ben. "Your friend coming?"

"Um, we'd like to do a sleepover, if that's OK? Is, um, is Mom around?"

Ben couldn't hold back his shit-eating grin. Uncle Booth, by contrast, considered this as if he were weighing an important piece of news. "She's on the patio in back. Have you asked his folks?"

Jesse blinked. "Um, no, I - I guess I better have Mike talk to his dad, huh?" Uncle Booth nodded, smiling a little now, and Jesse hurried back up to roust Mike for his assignment.

Jesse sat on the edge of the chair next to his mother, who appeared to be sleeping. "Has Mike left yet?" she asked.

Jesse was startled. "Um, no, not - not yet. Um, in fact, we'd kind of like to do a sleepover - y'know, like we always have. Just, just being chill and all. I promise," he added, perhaps a little too quickly.

Hi mother looked softly at him. "'Like you always have'?"

Jesse swallowed hard. "Yeah, Mom. Honest. I'll like leave the door open or something if you - "

"Don't be ridiculous, Jesse. You're entitled to your privacy. But what do his parents think about this?"

Jesse scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Um, he's like gonna ask his dad when he gets here. Uncle Booth says he's on his way and all."

"I see," his mother said. She sat very still for a moment. "I'm fine with it, Jesse, but I hope you aren't creating trouble for Mike at home. His mother is still pretty . . . . upset, about this, you know."

"It was his idea, Mom - he asked. I'm not like pushing him or anything."

She smiled, her eyes closed, and looking suddenly very old to Jesse in the dim light. "I don't think anything of the sort, Jesse." Her hand laid softly on his. "You two need to talk to his father, all right? And get the sleeping bag out of the garage." She looked at him, her eyes mischievous. "You should at least look convincing."

"Mom!!" Jesse barked before he could restrain himself, bolting up. They looked at each other a moment, then dissolved into laughter together. "I love you, Mom. Thanks." He bent down for a hug.

"I know you do, baby doll," she whispered. "And so do I." And if she blinked several times as Jesse hurried back inside, in his excitement he never noticed. Jesse heard voices out front as he rummaged in the garage, so he popped the lid. Mike and his father were talking casually with Uncle Booth and Ben on the driveway. Mike grinned at Jesse when they could make eye contact, and Jesse knew they had the green light. Nonetheless, Jesse made a quiet show about walking out to join the conversation with the sleeping bag held in front of him in both arms.

Mike's dad smiled and ruffled his hair. "How you doing tonight, Jes?"

"Fine, sir. I - I'm, uh, sorry we didn't like think of this earlier and all . . . "

"Relax, it'll be fine." He glanced at the sleeping bag. "What's that for, anyway?"

"Appearances," Uncle Booth noted, and both men grinned. Ben wasn't very successful at suppressing his own open laughter; Mike and Jesse turned red. "G'wan, get up there, have fun," Mike's father pushed them both lightly. "Sounds like you have an early morning anyway so that'll put a limit on you." The two boys grinned at each other a moment, then ran inside giggling.

Back in Jesse's room, the sleeping bag met an immediate and inglorious end, cast to the farthest corner. They were in each other's arms, kissing and still giggling, when a knock interrupted them. Jesse flushed again, thinking it would be his mom. But it was Brent - a development that made him blush even more deeply.

He was in boardshorts, shirtless, and smiling. "Got a minute?" He walked easily into the room without further invitation and plopped down on Jesse's desk chair. "Thought we needed to sort of clear the air, right? And with you here -" indicating Mike "- well, just makes it better."

Jesse licked his lips and tried to act calm. "OK, sure, no problem. What's up?"

Brent smiled. "It's OK, I'm cool with it. That's all I wanted to tell you both."

Mike was watching Brent very intently, but silent. Jesse glanced at Mike a second. "Um, OK, cool - I, I don't get it, you're cool with what?"

"Jes," Brent smiled, running a hand unconsciously over his chest (Jesse was suddenly conscious of how well defined his chest was, despite his thin stature - he was so much more an adult than they were). "Jes, I know your work. The porn. Both of you, together." He smiled, and Jesse could see Mike's fist ball up. "And I just want to say I'm cool. I'm not going to tell Ben or anything."

"You do and I might kill you, you know that?" Mike was very softspoken, but he meant it.

Ben considered him a moment. "Yeah, you just might. I think you might. But anyway, I'm not, so relax. And I'm not like expecting anything out of either of you - I'm not going to get you to have sex with me or anything. Not that it wouldn't be killer hot, of course," he grinned, "but even I have a problem with bangin' the little brother of the guy I've been fucking the past few days." He shrugged. "I'm not like in love with Ben, but he's a bud, and I don't screw over my buds. I just, y'know, screw 'em, sometimes." He grinned. "Couldn't resist that one, sorry."

Jesse's relief was combined with sudden concern. "D - does Ben know that? That you're not, like, in love with him, and all?"

Brent sighed and looked away, appearing for the first time less than self assured. He ran a hand through his longish lank blond hair. "Sort of," he said. "I mean I've told him and all. I just - I'm not sure he's heard it yet. Fully. You know what I mean?" He opened his arms. "I mean look, I don't want to just be with one guy right now. I'm still a kid and all, and I'm having a great time, and I'm not gonna like ditch the clubs and all to just hang with one guy. Maybe when I'm like all old and crinkly I'll want to do that, but that's not me right now." Jesse was aware of the distasteful look on his face, but found he didn't really care. "See, you guys, even with the cool stuff you must've been doing, you're just like babies and all still. Wait'll you get a taste of the clubs, you'll see what I mean."

Jesse frowned. "What cool stuff?"

Brent grinned. "You know, hanging with the porn guys and all. I mean there's got to be some really sick shit going on aside from when the cameras are on, right?" His grin was openly lascivious now. "I'm not asking or anything - like I said, I'm cool. But it's not like you guys finish fucking and go get a sandwich, right?"

Actually, Jesse thought, that's exactly what happened. The bread was stale, too. "I - I just, I'm like worried, y'know, for Ben. I mean he's going through as much shit right now as I am - maybe more, what with school and all. I don't want him to get hurt or anything."

Brent shook his head. "You guys are amazing. He's been saying that all the time about you - all our phone talks all summer, all the time since I've been here. 'I gotta protect Jesse' - it's like his mantra. Are you guys really that tight?"

Jesse blinked once. "He's my brother. Don't you have a brother?"

"Nope, no sibs here. I'm the spoiled only faggot child," Brent shrugged again as he bounced to his feet. "So, anyway, I just wanted you to feel like you're not all scared of me or anything, OK? I'm outta here after the weekend anyway." . "You're going back north?"

"For a little bit. I got this whole fall thing through Europe planned - Amsterdam, Prague, Berlin, all the queer hotspots. Maybe I'll audition for Bel Ami or something - they like American guys every now and then." He stepped tentatively towards Jesse. "Could you like maybe set me up with somebody - the guys you worked with - y'know, for an audition or something? I'd really like to get into that stuff, y'know?"

Mike's voice was, again, steely. "We can't do that. We won't. We're done with it all. And you need to forget about it, too. All of it."

Brent regarded Mike for a second, a languid smile playing across his face. "Dude, you'll go back. It's just too totally cool to stay away from."

"No we won't."

Brent shrugged yet again. "Whatever. Anyway, g'night. Just thought we should talk. Wish I could stay an' watch, it could be fun."

"OK, you really need to leave now, OK?" Jesse felt ill as he closed the door. He looked back at Mike. "He's gonna blab all over, isn't he? It's his latest claim to fame - the porn stars he's known. Whose brother he fucked."

Mike sighed. "He's not going to tell Ben, though - not right now, anyway. Right? That's what I got."

"Maybe. But how long will be keep quiet, it's like his big secret?"

Mike shrugged. "At least tonight, right? We can't solve all this shit at one time, Jes. Let's talk to your uncle tomorrow, maybe he'll have an idea."

Jesse frowned. "How much stuff can I expect Uncle Booth to fix, Mike? I mean at least some if this shit is my responsibility, isn't it?

"Jes, we're both kids still. I know you want to be responsible for the whole damn world, but we can't yet. Talk to him, and let's see. Probably a lot of stuff you can do, along with him. Right?"

Jesse sat heavily on the corner of his bed, rubbing his face. "I guess," he muttered. My life, my responsibility. My honor. He looked up to see Mike smiling at him. "What?"

"You are so fucking predictable, dude. You wanna solve every problem in the whole fucking world by yourself."

"No I don't."

"Bullshit." He giggled. "It's OK, Jes, I - I love that about you. You care about stuff, so damn much." His cheeks reddened. "It's how I know you care, like, about me. It, it's just what you're like."

"How can you think I don't care about you?"

"I don't think that at all." Mike sat next to him. "I know you care. That you love me. An' I love you, OK?"

Jesse blinked back the wetness that suddenly rose in his eyes. "Ya. Course. I know." They had to kiss each other then, and as they explored each other's mouths they fell back onto the bed and tangled together.

Mike, beneath Jesse, snaked a hand up under Jesse's shirt, giving Jesse goose bumps. Mike bunched the shirt in his hand and pulled it over Jesse's head. As Jesse lifted slightly to get it off the rest of the way, Mike took gentle hold of Jesse's left nipple with his teeth. "Oh God, dude," Jesse moaned, grabbing Mike's hair and holding on. He yanked on Mike's shirt, feeling the warm smooth skin, and they rolled back and forth, kissing, stripping each other, losing themselves in their gathering heat.

Jesse found himself atop Mike's back, kissing his earlobe and neck. His hand found Mike's right asscheek, and without thinking he threw himself downward, pressing his face into the crack, licking and kissing as deeply as he could. Mike groaned and arched his hips upwards, humping back against Jesse's face. "Oh, Christ," he whispered. After a few seconds, he scrambled to his knees, turned and kissed Jesse, then shoved Jesse down to return the favor, holding Jesse's thighs in the air. Jesse's head thrashed about the pillows as he tried to lift himself up further. "Oh," he said. "Oh."

They soon were sucking each other, with frequent neck bending excursions back further to penetrate again with their tongues. Both were sighing deeply, their hands caressing and grabbing at each other as the waves of pleasure washed over them. Mike soon began pawing at Jesse's head, a signal Jesse understood. He moaned loudly around Mike's erection and plunged down even harder, taking Mike as far down his throat as he could. Mike stopped sucking Jesse, gasping. "Oh God, Jes - gonna come - Jes - gonna - " His body stiffened, shuddered, and with a deep shove forward of his hips he came, flooding Jesse's mouth. Jesse gulped greedily, taking ragged shards of breath between swallows. The taste and smell were overpowering. Jesse whimpered, his hips twitching involuntarily at the sensations. Mike, crying aloud, jerking, took Jesse back into his mouth, and Jesse felt his own climax rise. When Mike jammed his index finger deep into Jesse a moment later, Jesse lost all control. He made deep guttural animal noises, his mouth still full of Mike's cock and semen, as he emptied himself. They spasmed for long seconds, clutching at each other, until the storm finally passed and they slumped down onto their sides, heads on each other's thigh, panting.

Jesse felt a large drool of come running down his chin. He giggled softly and wiped it onto his finger, licking it off languidly. "What?" Mike asked groggily.

"I leaked some out of my mouth," Jesse slurred. He nuzzled his face into Mike's crotch, loving the aroma that filled his nostrils. It's Mike's smell, he thought. His sweat and his come and his balls and his ass . . . and my spit and my sweat. We're like united.

Mike giggled in turn. "I think I got stuff all over my face," he said softly.

Jesse sat up. "Lemme see." Mike pulled away from Jesse's belly and looked at him. His hair was tousled, his eyes half open, and his face streaked with come. Jesse started laughing, leaned over, and kissed Mike, rubbing their cheeks together.

The kiss lasted a long time. When they finally separated, Mike started smoothing out Jesse's hair. "I like kissing like that - with our come in our mouths and all. It tastes good. Is that like weird or something?"

Jesse shook his head, flipping his bangs back. "Na, I was thinkin' the same thing." And they kissed again, falling sideways to lie together, their limbs entwining leisurely.

It was perhaps an hour or so later when Jesse awoke. Mike's head was on his shoulder, a slight smile on his lips as he snored softly. Mike's erection was poking Jesse in the hip; his own was waving in the air. Jesse took Mike in his hand, gently, and spread Mike's precum over his dickhead. Mike sighed softly and rolled his head onto the pillow. Jesse rolled onto his side slowly and backed himself against Mike, lifting his left leg and reaching behind to guide things into place. He couldn't get Mike to penetrate on his own, though, no matter how he tried to press his butt back. Only when Mike awoke enough to take hold of Jesse's hip did they finally get it right. The pain of Mike's entry caused Jesse to inhale sharply - the precum was clearly not sufficient lubrication. "Wan' me t' stop?" Mike muttered sleepily.

"No, don' stop. Want you in me." Jesse pushed back harder, feeling Mike slide slowly inside him, each bump and vein registering in soft flashes, until Mike's hand gripped his hip firmly and he pressed his belly against Jesse's buttocks as tightly as he could. Jesse felt Mike's breath against the back of his neck, a long deep sigh, before he started to move. They went at it for a long while, sometimes almost stopping as sleep threatened to overtake them, sometimes pressing together more aggressively. Mike's hand slid across Jesse's hip and onto his cock, holding him by it as he took possession with long slow strokes. Mike's other arm snaked under Jesse's head, and Jesse turned to kiss the inside of his elbow from time to time. Even Mike's orgasm, when it finally came, was quiet, almost soft, a long deep shuddering and explosion of breath against Jesse's shoulder that turned quickly into deep muffled snores.

Jesse felt wide awake now, as if Mike had pumped his energy into him. He didn't want to move, though: lying like that, spooned against Mike, still impaled on his twitching erection, seemed the most perfect place to be on earth. He reached down, gently moved Mike's hand off his erection, and touched himself softly. It took very little before he too came, as Mike had, with a soft trembling that belied the intensity of the feeling. It's all over the sheets, he thought idly, as sleep suddenly enveloped him. They'll be like stiff . . .

The rap on the door was brisk, it woke them with a jolt. "Time to rise and shine, gentlemen," Uncle Booth's voice carried through the paneling. "Breakfast at 7, and we need to get your friend." The boys stumbled over each other into the bathroom, pissing and brushing teeth without any self consciousness (in fact, barely conscious at all). They yanked on boardshorts and T's, pushed into their Rainbows and shuffled down stairs, running hands through their hopelessly touseled hair.

Uncle Booth was petting Poche, removing the leash from her collar as she wiggled joyously against him. Damn, when did he get here, he's already walked the dog? Jesse thought. "All ready? He asked. The sun was not quite above the far hillside out the front door, inland; the morning was still and clear. It was going to be brutally hot again, even along the coast.

The boys nodded and piled silently into Uncle Booth's car. They were at the t Street overcrossing within seconds, it seemed, and Uncle Booth let them go on ahead to seek Erick out among the crowd of morning surfers vying for a chance at the smooth left break. He wasn't hard to spot: he was trashing the wave he'd gotten, cutting nimbly up and back, 360'ing on top, then running down the short face with aggressive front foot pumping action. The speed had Erick almost drunk with the power of the sea, and the subtlety of his movements was breathtaking for Jesse and Mike to watch, even at this early hour.

When he finally kicked out and bounced lightly down into the waist high water, jesse called to him. He waved and moved toward them, his board under his arm. That's a new one, Jesse thought. A shortie, squash tail. Looks like what, Hap Jacobs? No, he only makes longboards.

Erick grinned as he met them. "Is this board cool or what? Kimo Greene, from Haleiwa. Oahu. Taylor dropped it off last night for me try this morning. It so rocks, dudes, you gotta try it."

Mike smiled, running his hand over its needle nose. "Think he's gonna let you keep it if you fuck him up today?"

Erick laughed. "I could care, I got lotsa boards. And guys willing to sponsor me and stuff. My dad says there are a coupla teams that want me but I gotta deal with them direct. No Taylor. So it all works out, right?" He squinted up toward the steel mesh covering the overcrossing. "So's your uncle here and all?"

"Ya," Jesse answered, waving vaguely behind him. "We're hittin' Pipes. Wanna come?"

Erick threw a wet arm over Jesse's shoulder. "What d'you think I been waitin' for fer like an hour here? Let's do it."

Uncle Booth was waiting at the loading area, a towel in hand. "Good to see you, Erick, how's the water this morning?"

Erick regarded him for a second before taking the towel. "Warm. Break's coming up from south. You surf?"

Uncle Booth smiled. "Poorly. Jesse's dad was more comfortable in the water than I am. He tried to teach me a few times and usually wound up pretty frustrated. I'm better on land."

Erick spent the drive to Pipes describing the morning surf, the pod of dolphins that had stopped by to check out the action, the way the Kimo moved on the waves. Jesse felt nervousness settle over him. This was the day, he thought. What the hell happens now?

Pipes is a small breakfast place that caters to the surf crowd - breakfast burritos, juice, scramblers. The portions are enormous. The four of the crowded around a tiny outside plastic table, with Uncle Booth seeming to take up one entire side. They ate in silence for some time - partly, as for the boys, out of nervousness, and partly of course out of raw adolescent hunger. Erick finally looked at Uncle Booth as he wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. "I got the stuff in my backpack, I figured you'd want that."

Uncle Booth looked at Erick steadily for a second before answering. "Yes, that was good planning. When is this guy supposed to show up?"

"Said he'd grab me up from T Street around 9."

Uncle Booth glanced at his watch. "All right, that gives us some time." He leaned forward. "Would this be better to talk about in a more private placed? I need to know as much as you can tell me."

Erick flushed. "Ya, private would be better, if that's OK."

"Of course," Uncle Booth said with a warm smile. "Tell you what, why don't we go back down to the beach there and wait for him. You can talk to me while we wait." He looked up at Jesse and Mike, "Would you boys mind going back home while I deal with this? I should be there to pick you up by about 10:30 or so."

"Sure," Jesse gulped, trying to sound nonchalant. "We can just walk up the hill from here if you like."

Uncle Booth waved his hand. "It's just a quick drive, I'll drop you." He stood and began clearing the paper plates and juiced cups away, the boys following suit.

Jesse leaned over to Erick as they drove up the hill. "You gonns be OK?"

"Ya, I been waiting for this for a long time."

"Uncle Booth - he's cool, you'll see. He'll do right by you."

Erick shrugged. "Maybe, we'll see, I can do it myself."

"I'm sure you can, Erick," Uncle Booth said calmly without looking back at them. "My involvement here is just supportive - with maybe an element of backup force if necessary. We'll talk about it on the way down, all right? I know this is your day, and I'm only here to help make it go well."

Erick glanced at Jesse, who raised his eyebrows in a "See?" gesture. "OK," he said in a subdued voice. "I guess this is kinda scary, in a way. Even though I got him by the balls."

Uncle Booth laughed. "That's a good attitude. People who are cornered aren't always rational, that's why I think I can help." He pulled into Jesse's driveway. "You two get to sleep off those burritos. See you in a little while."

Being shut out of the showdown between Erick and Taylor did little to quiet Jesse's nerves. He unconsciously began pacing around his room as Mike flopped onto the bed and pushed his Ipod into the player on the nightstand. "Horseshoes and Handgrenades" started playing, and Mike lay on his back pumping a fist in the sir to the music. "Jes," he said, "c'mere. It's OK, it's not our business anyway."

Jesse paused and looked at Mike. His shirt had ridden partly up his side, showing his bare ribcage and tan belly. His hair wisped across his eyes as he looked sideways at Jesse. The image was too wonderful. Jesse started singing along: "So don't you fuck me around!" as he danced over to the bed and threw himself on top of Mike. He yanked Mike's shirt upwards and buried his tongue in Mike's mouth. "Mmmmm, egg and chorizo, nice."

Mike giggled and pulled at the back of Jesse's T shirt as well. "Amazing what food does for you," and they were off again.

Jesse lay on his side afterwards, cheek on Mike's slowing rising and falling chest, and looked at himself in the mirror on the sliding closet door. He smiled at his touseled reflection and watched the image of his hand as it quietly traced meaningless patterns on Mike's belly, fingerpainting with their mingled ejaculate. Mike's arm was beneath him, the hand cupping his shoulder. This is what I'd like a picture of, Jesse thought. Just us, together like this. This is what's real. He turned his head slightly to kiss Mike's nipple, and smiled as Mike's face pushed into his hair in reply.

"Hey Jes, you in there?" Ben called through the door.

Jesse didn't move. "Ya."

"Thought so. Heard you guys a little while ago."

"Pretty hot!" Brent's voice interjected.

That made the boys lift their heads and look at each other. "So wazzup?" Jesse asked after a long second's pause.

"We're gonna go hit the south side of San O and sunbathe naked, unless the rangers bust us," Ben answered.

Jesse glanced again at Mike, worried. "Dude, they're supposed to be like cracking down on that, maybe not a good idea."

"No prob. We're going to the view area and walking in from the south. We'll be way down away from anybody."

"Very alone!" Brent added, the laughter audible in his tone of voice.

Mike shrugged. "They'll be OK, Jes. Ernie can't do much real filming or anything on a holiday weekend like this anyway, too many people."

"So, uh, d'you guys wanna join us later?" Ben asked, sounding suddenly hesitant. "I can, um, come back for you maybe after lunch."

"N - no thanks, we, uh, we got - we're doing stuff, today, and all. I mean aside from here, y'know?" The question struck Jesse as odd.

Ben laughed. "OK, just keep an ear out for Mom." He sounded relieved. "She might be back early afternoon before her open house starts and you don't wanna be makin' noise like you were with her home." They could hear Ben and Brent chuckling through the door.

"Same to you, Ben, you guys prolly woke the whole neighborhood the other night in the Jacuzzi."

"I know, we'll be on YouPorn before we know it. Later little bro."

Jesse settled back onto Mike's chest. "Well," Mike said after about a minute, "he pretty clearly doesn't know anything yet."

"Yet," Jesse repeated. "But that wasn't his idea for us to go San O with them - you caught that, right? He got put up to that." Mike nodded, his face sober. Jesse rubbed his face further down Mike's torso, feeling the small areas that were still wet against his cheek. "I better talk to Uncle Booth about it, huh?"

"One thing at a time, babe," Mike answered, his finger caressing Jesse's hair.

"I know," Jesse sighed, pushing his head slightly back against Mike's hand. "I just want this shit to be over."

Uncle Booth paused a moment after quietly opening the bedroom door. The two boys were lying together, arms and legs intertwined, snoring softly. The room reeked of their lovemaking. He smiled. We could have been like this, Walt. Should have been. Look at 'em. Damn. Well, at least we can do this much for the kids, right? He closed the door again, composed himself, and knocked briskly. "Jesse? You awake?"

Jesse managed to contain himself until Uncle Booth had paid the day pass entrance fee to ranger to enter San Onofre. "What happened with Erick?"

"Not your worry, Jesse," Uncle Booth said calmly. "Mr. Castilla has some thinking to do, and he's entitled to it/"

Mike shifted forward alongside Jesse. "Well, where's Erick?"

"I dropped him back off at the place we picked him up - what is it, Trafalgar?"

"T Street, Uncle Booth," Jesse corrected. God, how can he not know that. "What's he doing?"

"Surfing, I presume," uncle booth said. His sphinx act was driving the boys nuts, and by the slight smile on his lips, he was enjoying the torture.

They drove on in silence for about a minute before Jesse couldn't take it any more. "C'mon, Uncle Booth," he pleaded. "I mean we know everything about it, we just wanna know what happened."

Uncle Booth allowed himself a short laugh. "It went fine, Jesse, don't worry. I'm sure Erick will give you a blow by blow as soon as you see him. That Castilla fellow is quite a piece of work, though. It seems Erick's not the only kid he's pulled this sort of thing with."

"That makes sense," Jesse nodded, before his mind began fully to grasp what it meant. "W - wait a second, he - he's like managed and coached national level guys for like fifteen years now . . . . " He looked over at Mike, whose eyes were also wide. "D'you mean he, like, got them all ,by . . . "

Uncle Booth shrugged, his face now impassive. "I can't say for sure, Jesse, but I don't think Erick was the first boy he's preyed on. He said a lot of things he really shouldn't have, to me." Jesse could see the anger that Uncle Booth had suppressed welling up, and knew he had to leave it alone for the present.

Mike didn't get it, though. "B - but what about - "

"Drop it, Mike. For now, OK?" Jesse knew from experience with his father what a real Marine was like when he blew, and he didn't want to face it now. As Mike sat back, disgruntled, Jesse contemplated that Ernie was about to face that anger, full force. Jesse almost felt sorry for him.

Ernie's RV was hemmed in by other campers, vans, SUVs and beachgoers. The sight was unusual to Jesse and Mike - they had been used to seeing it midweek, with few if any other vehicles around. Mike had been right - no way Ernie could do his voyeur act this weekend, with so many people around. Unless he went way south, past where the park ended, Jesse thought.

Ernie emerged from the RV almost as soon as they pulled up and parked behind it. "Good morning, Colonel Palmer, good to see you again. Hello boys, this is a surprise." He looked at Uncle Booth. "I didn't realize we were talking about Ronnie and Jamie. Did you get to know them after the shoot, perhaps?" His placid smile turned Jesse's stomach in a way he hadn't felt since that first day when Ernie had confronted him on the beach, alone.

Uncle Booth glanced at the boys. "Jesse is a family friend, actually, of long standing. And Mike is - well, he's part of Jesse now, so he's family too."

"Wait a minute," Mike burst out. "You - you two know each other?" Jesse hadn't caught that, and turned to stare at the two grownups.

"Come inside, dears," Ernie said with a wave. "We have business to discuss."

Mike and Jesse hesitated, suspicions flaring in both of them. Jesse felt especially ill - how could Uncle Booth know Ernie, and what did Ernie mean by "business'? He couldn't sell us out - not now, not after he'd told him so much, told him everything in fact. Mike looked similarly concerned. Their hands unconsciously linked as they stepped into the RV behind the two adults.

Ýou know," Ernie said as he closed the door, "Denny was not happy about any of this, Colonel, And seeing that it's Ronnie and Jamie you're taking from us - well, that really will be a blow."

"I expected that. But there are enough other officers he's got hooks into on base that he'll still be able to use places for filming from time to time. I didn't want to make an issue of who the boys were until the last possible moment. He'll try to freeze their accounts, I'm sure."

"Ok, of course. The minute he gets wind of who it is."

"Well, I'm going to ask you to give us an hour or so on that, all right? They deserve what's coming to them, and their families could use it too."

Ernie looked at Jesse and Mike for a long moment. He's actually sad, Jesse thought. "I can do that. These two are special to me. We did some very good work, you know."

"I've seen it, yes." Jesse, turning scarlet, stared at Uncle Booth, who made a soft shushing gesture.

Ernie was nodding, rifling through a stack of CDs. "Then you realize how hard this is for me." He tucked four discs into an envelope. "Those are the masters. I'll have the appropriate parts of the website blocked or taken down by mid-afternoon."

"Hold on," Jesse interjected. "Is this all like prearranged?" The adults glanced at hom fondly. "I mean, I - I thought -"

"You thought we were going to have some sort of big confrontation scene, like a movie of the week?" Uncle Booth smiled, shaking his head. "This is business, Jesse. For him, for me, and it needs to be for you. As you can tell, I've worked with Mr. Denton on his shoots on base before." Ernie made a quiet bow of gratitude. "There are some more senior officers who - well, they get some favors from him, and Mr. Falcone, as a result. I haven't," he added, appearing slightly flustered for the first time, "but there are a few who have."

"Favors," Mike said softly. "You mean guys."

"Yes," Uncle Booth said quietly, his Adam's apple working a little. "Most of the boys Mr. Denton or Mr. Falcone work with usually end up making, um, more of a career in adult entertainment. In person type things."

"They're like rentboys?" Mike asked sharply. Uncle Booth nodded. "And - and you've been part of this stuff?"

"Tangentially I suppose, yes," Uncle Booth said quietly. "I'm not especially proud of it. It was - a way of protecting myself, to stay in the Corps. To advance."

"My dad didn't do any of this, did he?" Jesse knew the answer before Uncle Booth even began shaking his head.

"For what it's worth, Ronnie, I never knew your father from Adam. Colonel Palmer never mentioned him - well, by name, or in a way that I could know who he was, at least - and I'm reasonably sure he never knew about any of this little arrangement."

"He wouldn't have stood for it," Uncle Booth said strongly. "It would have made him furious."

"Then why did you?" Jesse asked sharply. He felt his father's anger welling up inside him. "He was too good a man - too good a Marine - to let shit like this go on, but you were OK with it?"

Uncle Booth sat down at the small kitchenette table - an absurd sight, his broad body hunkered into so small a piece of furniture. "I'm not as good a Marine as he was, Jesse. I've told you that."

"Yeah, I see that now," Jesse snapped. His disillusionment was overwhelming.

"Jesse, I never would have been a part of it if I thought you'd be involved, or affected. I never would have let it happen. Hell, I was in damn Anbar in June and July when you fell into this."

Jesse nodded bitterly. "And how much of the show did you watch from the bluff that last day, when Mike and me were getting - getting fucking raped by those guys, huh? Was it a good show? Good enough to pay for, pay per view? Jesus Christ." He kicked open the door and leaped into the blazing sun, with Mike following him.

Jesse ran along the road for maybe half a mile or so before he dropped to his knees in front of a huge fennel bush and started sobbing. The licorice odor from the plant was stifling in the midday heat. It was several seconds before he felt Mike's arms around his shoulders, and several more before he fell into them, crying huge gut-wrenching sobs of shame and fury and remorse. Mike was petting his hair, whispering, "Dude, calm down, it's OK, it's all gonna be over, that's all that matters. Jes. Oh Jes."

'Fucking faggots," a sharp voice cut through Jesse consciousness. "Look at 'em, like a coupla girls."

Three kids walking bikes were looking at them, laughing. They were maybe a year or two older than the boys. The one who had spoken was holding his free hand up girlishly. "Oh, lover, I'm sooo sad!!"

"They are girls, though, ain't they?" The smallest of the three was leering at them. "Here, queers," he called as if addressing a dog, grabbing at his crotch. "Wanna piece of meat?" The other two roared.

Jesse was upon them before Mike could blink. He whjp kicked the first boy's legs out from under him ("An easy takedown with an unskilled opponent," his father had taught him). The boy fell onto his bike in a heap. The second had time to raise a hand against Jesse's fist, but not enough to block the blow to his throat. He too dropped at once, clutching his bruised larynx and gagging for air. ("Not too hard there, unless you want to kill. Bruise the throat but don't crush the windpipe - that's fatal.") Jesse stood over him a second, evaluating if he'd done it right, then turned away, satisfied. The third had by this time cast aside his bike and was trying to decide on a defensive fighting position. He looked terrified. Jesse liked that. He stepped inside a wild panicked roundhouse punch and delivered a straight open hand to the solar plexus. As the boy doubled over, Jesse took his head in his hands and pushed down as he brought his knee up into the boy's face. The howl of pain, and the soft crunch of the nose bone, was musical. He turned back to the first, who was struggling to his feet, and readied another blow, this one to be really punishing. The first boy's face was pale, eyes wide, a mask of terror. You are so gonna pay, motherfucker, Jesse thought with an ecstatic flash as he bore in.

Huge arms encircled him, pinning his arms to his sides. He headbutted backwards, felt contact, heard a muffled curse, then felt himself lifted and thrown to the pavement. The impact knocked the wind out of him for a moment. He leaped to his feet and turned. Uncle Booth, his lip bleeding, was standing with his hands out. "Jesse, calm down."

Jesse couldn't. He flew into Uncle Booth, aiming for eyes, the nasal bone, the throat, the crotch. Every brutal hand to hand trick his father had ever shown him. He wanted to hurt, to kill, to maim, he didn't care who. Uncle Booth parried him, circled behind in an instant and again pinioned him. "Jesse, calm down!!" he said again, this time in full military voice. The embrace was crushing, Jesse felt the air leaving his lungs once again.

And he heard a ragged breath - a sob, almost - escape Uncle Booth's throat as he again shouted at Jesse to stand down. As quickly as it had taken him, Jesse's rage fell away. He was shaking, his legs and arms felt weak. He grabbed on to Uncle Booth's forearms and began crying once again.

Mike was holding him now, too, and Uncle Booth stepped away. "Dude, please don't, you gotta chill here, you're gonna kill 'em."

Jesse was still finding it hard to breathe. "D - did I? I - I wanted to. Oh shit, Mike what'd I do?"

Jesse saw the first boy circling behind Mike warily. His nose bled in a thin stream. Mike walked Jesse back onto the dirt shoulder of the road and sat him down. "You're fucking crazy, dude. We were just bustin' ya."

"Bust this, asshole," Mike snarled, and now he rose to step towards the frightened boy. Uncle Booth stepped in and turned Mike around firmly.

"You take care of Jesse. I'll handle this."

Jesse dimly heard Uncle Booth chew out the three, telling them he'd heard their anti-gay slurs, and that they were damn lucky to be alive. He only caught part of the lecture. "The next time you want to mock somebody for being gay, or appearing gay, you remember this. You remember how one guy took the three of you out. You're just lucky I didn't stand back and let him finish the job like you deserved. Now get the hell out of here - you all fell while riding, nasty spill. Right? Don't want to admit you got beat up by a faggot, do you?" The boys murmured dull consent (to the extent they were capable), and were gone.

Uncle Booth was squatting next to Jesse. He was, of all things, smiling. "You OK there, Jesse?"

Jesse was shaking uncontrollably. "Get away from me."

Uncle Booth shook his head and leaned in. "I can't Jesse, I have too much to make up for. To you, and to your dad." He kissed Jesse on top of his head, and Jesse couldn't bring himself to pull away. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, and was surprised to find blood on it. He looked at Mike questioningly. "Nosebleed," Mike said. "I think one of 'em clipped you a little on his way down." Mike pinched Jesse's nostrils together. "Sit still."

"I'm cold," Jesse whispered adenoidally. He was still shaking.

"I know, babe, but you'll be OK now. It's a really hot day, y'know?"

Uncle Booth began rubbing Jesse's back and shoulders vigorously. As the feeling in Jesse's limbs began to return to normal, he stuttered, "A - are they, like - are they all right? I - I think I - I don't even know what I did, I -"

"You handled yourself like a good Marine, Jes. Your dad would've loved it. They never knew what hit 'em.' Uncle Booth was almost gleeful.

Jesse wasn't in a gleeful mood, though. "I - I don' like it. I just - I like lost it, I . . . God I hope they're OK."

Uncle Booth touseled his hair. "They'll live. The one has a nasty contusion on his nose, but I don't think it broke. It was still straight." He sat next to the boys, looking at Jesse very hard. "You had that coming, you know. All that's happened, all you've been through. It was going to come out sometime, somewhere. I'm just worried now that it might not be all out yet. I don't want to take you on again, Jesse - I'll have to get too damn serious in order to protect myself."

Jesse noticed Uncle Booth's lip. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." He felt deeply ashamed.

"Yes you did. You were angry and out of control. That's OK, like I said you had it coming. And, well, I guess so did I. But Jesse?" The tone of Uncle Booth's voice made him look very hard at him. "Please know that I love you so very much, and I never would have done anything to hurt you. This is my fault, and it's my shame here - not yours. It's my fault that this all existed for you to fall into, and I'm doing all I can to get you out. As cleanly and immediately as possible. Please believe that, all right?" His face was drawn in a way Jesse had never seen before - a mask of remorse, self-revulsion, and a sorrow of the sort that only older people, looking back on years of wastage, foolishness, and self-corruption, can have.

Jesse nodded softly. He understood, maybe for the first time. After all, he had his own set of things to look back on with mortification now. "I'm sorry,' he whispered. "I know you're doing what you can. I'm glad for it."

Uncle Booth's hand in Jesse's hair trembled a moment before he pulled away. "OK, can you stand now? We need to finish up with Denton."

Three glasses of lemonade were waiting for them under the awning at Ernies's RV. "Are we all all right here now? We should probably finish things quickly, in case someone called the rangers down here."

Uncle Booth looked at Jesse, who nodded. "What's left?"

"Very little, really. We don't want any signatures on anything because the boys are underaged. In fact I already burned the contracts they signed." He glanced at his watch. "It's about 1 now, the banks close at 2 or 3. I can give you until then before I call Denny back. He'll freeze the accounts as soon as he hears, certainly before they open Monday morning - no, Tuesday, I forget it's a holiday weekend. Will that be enough time?"

"Plenty," Uncle Booth said calmly, taking Ernie's hand. The contrast between the two was especially stark then - Uncle Booth's huge hand closing over Ernie's delicate one.

Ernie smiled wistfully. "I am sorry to lose you boys,' he said, stepping forward unexpectedly and embracing them each in turn. "I hope I wasn't too awful a person to know. I just try to make my money, if you know what I mean."

Jesse, looking blankly at the RV from over Ernie's shoulder, found himself hugging Ernie back. "I know. It's like everybody thinks they're doing the right thing."

Ernie stepped back. "Something like that. Or at least hoping it'll turn out right eventually." He handed Jesse an envelope. "These are the masters, without them Denny can't sell product or recreate the website. Once I take things down it'll be like you never existed. I'll get complaints from customers, certainly, but that's just part of the business.' He chuckled. "I'll have to learn 'I'm sorry' in Slovenian or something."

"Huh?" Mike had an uncomprehending expression that was nearly comical.

Ernie smiled, again wistfully. "You boys had quite a following in central Europe," he said. "I'm not sure if it was the California locale, or your own evident charms, or what, but we got just scads of business from overseas."

Jesse turned away, shaking his head. "Guess I better not travel much for a while then," he muttered.

"Oh, but you should!" Ernie said. "You'd never have to pay for a hotel room or a meal over there."

Uncle Booth snorted. "They'd have to pay - just not directly."

Ernie nodded somberly. "One last thing," he said, reaching back into the RV for two more envelopes. "Your last checks. They're cashier's checks, so they can't be stopped. Get them deposited and cashed out today, all right? I can only hold off the cavalry for so long, you know." He embraced both boys again and waved over his shoulder as he stepped back into the darkness of his RV. "Get going now, all of you, before I make a terrible scene." His voice was cracking slightly.

A Ranger truck passed them as they drove out, its lights flashing. "Looks like Denton had it right. Someone did call the police on you, Jesse." Uncle Booth chuckled as Jesse shrank back into the seat. "It's fine, relax. Now, just to be safe, get in the way back and hunker down as we get to the guard shack, all right? Mike, since there are only two of us in this car, you should sit up here next to me." The boys complied nervously. Jesse especially felt terrified - would he be arrested or something? His heart pounding, he listened as Uncle Booth causally chatted up the park ranger at the guard shack. It was only when they'd gotten onto the freeway that Uncle Booth calmly told Jesse to come back out.

The bank went quickly and smoothly. "Leave a little in," Uncle Booth advised them both. "Closing the accounts will look suspicious. Their checks were for another $5,000 odd dollars each. They received back cashier's checks, made out to their real names, for the amount of their respective withdrawals. "This is weird," Jesse said, examining the check as they drove home. "It's so much money, and it's mine. I don't even know what to do with it."

"Whatever you like," Uncle Booth said warmly. "There are some family bills that you could pay off that I could say are NevaCal work to cover for you, or there are some good organizations up in L.A. that address the needs of gay teenagers - runaways and such. The sorts who most often wind up doing the sort of thing you were doing with Denton. Most of those kids don't get into it by ambush the way you two did - most do it to make enough money to stay alive. You need to realize that, Jesse. You too, Mike. You boys think you saw the worst thing in the world - well, you weren't even close. That agreement that Denton had you sign was ridiculously generous. You got a lot more money out of it than you should have had any right to expect. I think Denton had a soft spot for you two, whatever you think of him. That'll probably make it harder for him to sell this to Falcone, after giving you two such a good deal."

Mike was leaning against Jesse. "What did you think of him - of Ernie?"

Uncle Booth hesitated a moment. "Well, he thinks of himself as an artist. You see that in the way he films things, all of it. He's been able to - to objectify what he's doing so the sexual aspect is just background. He's lying, of course - to himself, mostly. There's a line between art and exploitation, and luring fifteen year olds into doing this sort of stuff is way, way over it. I have a feeling he won't do that again."

"Why not?" Jesse asked. "What's to stop him? I mean he did it with us, and he had the Id and all that dummied up like it was routine."

Uncle Booth glanced back at them as he waited for the left turn arrow to flash. "Let's just say that I had a few cards to play here with him as well, and I'm pretty confident you won't be seeing him using underaged guys, or hanging around San Onofre for that matter, in the future."

That's good, I didn't want to like avoid the park or anything - it's nice there." He looked at Mike; their hands grazed each other. "It's kind of a special place - for us, y'know?" Uncle Booth chuckled.

"Wait a minute," Mike leaned forward. "What'd you do to make all this happen so easy? You said you had cards to play. What, did you like threaten him or something? Threaten Falcone?"

Uncle Booth's eyes, visible in the rear view mirror, flashed a moment. "That's my business, Mike. What's important is that I did what needed to be done, and it's over - for both of you."

Jesse sagged into Mike's embrace. For the first time in what seemed forever, he felt truly safe, and relaxed. Uncle Booth had said it, at last: it was over. It was over, for real. He found himself grinning stupidly, than laughing. Mike started in, too, and by the time they arrived back up the hill at Jesse's house the two boys were convulsed across the back seat, howling.

Uncle Booth looked back at them for a long moment before herding them out of the car. That's a first installment, Walt. He laughs like you did when you let yourself relax - free, open. Loud. I'll see to it that they're safe, and happy - that they always can laugh like that, the way we never could. It's my duty, Walt. It's on my honor, and I won't ever fail you again.

The boys fairly ran inside, heading straight for Jesse's bedroom. Booth Palmer watched the door close behind them before pulling slowly back onto the street. He had a long road to travel, and it would now be forever alone, but he could at least take comfort in satisfying Walt's ghost by his actions. He would never allow himself any further pleasure than that.