My Brother's Keeper
I was thirteen years old when my brother was born.
My mother had had a difficult pregnancy and Adam suffered from several birth defects that would leave him in the neonatal intensive care unit for several months. I can remember taking long car rides with my dad to the hospital after school to visit Adam.
My mom was always at his bedside.
Two month after Adam's birth, my mom died. We were told that a blood clot had gone to her lungs. We were devastated.
The months that followed were long and arduous.
Adam came home when he was six months old. The doctors prognosis of Adam was grim and they said he would probably not live past the age of two or three. We had around the clock care for him - nurses and doctors all coming and going to keep tabs on him. My dad's focus shifted to deal with Adam as much as he could while I was left with the "mom duties" in the house (i.e. cleaning, dishes, laundry, etc.) It was a hard time for all of us. We adjusted to the demands of our new lives, as people do I suppose.
The nurses that cared for my brother were great. But there always seemed to be a new one every few months and just when you were getting to know them, they would be gone. I never realized how much a part of our family they had become until they weren't there anymore. I suppose I thought of them as a sort of replacement for my mom.
Until one day a new nurse arrived at our door.
It was a Saturday morning, and I had been laying on the floor watching cartoons in my pajamas. There was a knock at the door, and when I answered it, the man said his name was Michael and that he was here to meet us. My dad came down from upstairs and met us at the door.
"Hello Mister Reynolds, my name is Michael Anders The agency said they contacted you about my stopping over today to meet your family."
"Yes Michael, it's great to meet you. Won't you come in?"
Michael stepped into the foyer and shook my dads hand.
Michael was just as tall as my dad, but much younger. He had blond hair and brown eyes. He was probably in his early twenties and athletic.
"Michael, this is my other son, Daniel."
"Hello Daniel, it is nice to meet you." he said as he extended his hand towards me.
I didn't reach back and after a few moments Michael awkwardly pulled his hand back.
"Daniel, be nice and shake Mister Anders' hand."
Hesitantly, I reached out but was interrupted when Michael said, "It's okay - he doesn't have to."
My dad gave me a scowl before dismissing me back to the living room. Then he took Michael up to Adam's room where they spent the next hour discussing my brother and the care he required. When they finally came downstairs, they appeared to be getting along pretty well.
"Well Mr. Reynolds, it was great meeting you and your sons."
"Please, call me Patrick."
"Okay, Patrick. I appreciate the opportunity to meet with you on a Saturday. Should I will plan on seeing you tomorrow evening?"
"Okay then." and Michael walked to the door. But before leaving, I heard him say, "It was nice meeting you Daniel."
I responded with a vague interest in him. And then he was gone.
My dad came in to the living room and sat in his chair.
"Dad, who was that guy?"
"He is going to be one of your brothers nurses."
"But I thought all nurses were girls?"
"No, not all of them. I think it will be good to have another man around the house - don't you?"
"I think it is weird. Why haven't any of the other nurses been guys?"
"Well, I suppose because there aren't that many boy nurses. I don't know?"
"Well, I still think it is weird."
The next evening, Michael came to the house at around 8:00pm. He was wearing normal clothes, not the kind of uniforms that the other nurses wore when they came to the house. I answered the door and didn't recognize him at first.
"Hello Daniel. Is your dad home?"
"Oh, hello Michael. Yeah, he is in the kitchen."
It was then that we both heard a crash, like the sound of glass breaking and we both ran into the kitchen to see what had happened.
My dad was standing at the sink, blood dripping from his hand into a sink full of dishes. A broken glass was on the counter. My dad had apparently broken the glass while washing it.
"God damn it!" he said.
"Mister Reynolds, are you alright?" Michael asked rushing up to him. He took a towel from the counter and held it under my dads hand. He took a close look and then placed my dads hand under cold water.
"I'm fine Michael."
"We need to make sure there isn't any glass in the cut."
"No, I don't think there is." and he tried to pull away. But Michael was steadfast in holding my dads wrist.
"Hey..." Michael said looking my dad in the eyes, "let me do my job - okay?"
My dad sighed, smiled, and then said 'okay'.
Michael took his time inspecting the wound and when he was satisfied that it was merely a superficial cut, he wrapped the towel around the hand and had my dad hold it to his heart.
"I don't think you'll need stitches, but we will need to keep an eye on it to make sure it doesn't get any bigger."
"Thank you Michael." he said with a smile.
"Sure. If you don't mind, I'd like to go upstairs and check on Adam."
"Yes, please do. I'll be fine."
"Okay - and when I come back down, I'll finish those dishes."
"You don't have to do that." my dad told him.
"Yes I do. I want to make sure there isn't any broken glass in the dish water." that's when he turned to me and said, "Daniel, would you get your father a glass of water? I will be right back." and then he disappeared upstairs.
"Kinda bossy don't you think dad?"
"No, not really."
"Here ya go." I said, handing him a glass of water with ice in it. Dad took a drink and then looked over at the broken glass on the counter. It was one of the Disney glasses we had gotten on our trip to Disney World the summer before Adam was born.
"What?" I asked him.
"I broke another one..." he paused and looked down at the floor, "there used to be six and now there are only two left - soon they will all be gone."
I looked over at the broken glass and noticed that it was 'Daisy Duck' - my mom's favorite. "Well, maybe we can get another one?" I said trying to reassure him.
"What's the fucking point?" he shouted, "I'll probably just break that one too." and then he got up and went into the bathroom and slammed the door.
I sat there in silence. He was mad.
"Daniel, go upstairs, brush your teeth, and get ready for bed. You have school in the morning." I heard him say from behind the closed door.
I did as he asked, and when I got to the top of the stairs I saw Michael changing my brothers diaper. He turned and saw me.
"Is everything okay down there?" he asked.
I ignored him, went into the bathroom and closed the door. When I came out a few minutes later, Adam's light was off in his room and his nightlight was spinning star shapes around his room. It was one of the little trinkets that my mom had gotten for Adam before she died. I liked to lay on the floor and look up at the ceiling as the stars danced around the room in different colors.
I went back downstairs to tell my dad goodnight and when I walked into the kitchen, I saw Michael hugging my dad while he cried into Michael's shoulder. Michael's back was to me and when my dad saw me, he looked startled and pushed Michael away, wiping his eyes.
"Did you get your teeth brushed kiddo?"
"Yeah - of course. What's going on?" I asked him.
Michael was silent, but my dad said that he just missed mom and that he was upset that he broke her favorite glass.
"Jesus dad, it's just a stupid glass." I told him.
"That's enough Daniel!" he shouted at me.
"What?!? It is!" I blurted back.
"Go to your room!" he asserted, "I'll be up in a few minutes."
I did as he asked, but I couldn't understand why he was hugging Michael that way. What was the big deal? He never hugged any of my brothers other nurses that way. And it was just a fucking glass for Christ's sake.
Later that night, I got up to go to the bathroom and I saw Michael sitting in the rocker in Adam's room. He had Adam wrapped in a blanket holding and humming to him. I stood there in the dark and watched the two of them as Michael slowly rocked Adam back to sleep.
Maybe this guy wasn't so weird after all.
After a few months, it was obvious that Michael was going to be sticking around. I had noticed a strong friendship develop between him and my dad. When Michael wasn't working with Adam, he would go out with my dad to play golf or catch a Cubs game.
My dad didn't keep a lot of the friendships he had when my mom was alive. He told me that it was hard to see the people that mom and he had had as friends. They would seem to be stuck in the past and never tried to move forward after moms death. it was like they had nothing in common anymore. My dad had even changed jobs after mom died, so he really didn't have any type of a social life.
But seeing him with Michael, I could tell that he was happier than he had been in a long time and so that made me happy too.
Over Labor Day weekend, dad said that he wanted to take me fishing. He would rent a boat and we would go out on Lake Michigan for a few hours. It was something that I remember doing with him all the time when I was younger and we always had a lot of fun. So plans were made and the day before we were to go I was surprised to learn that Michael would be coming with us.
"Why does he have to go?"
"Because he is my friend and I would like him to come with us."
"Well then can I bring a friend?"
"Great. I'm going to call Eric and see if he can come too."
I called Eric and he agreed to come along.
The next day, dad made arrangements to have Sharon take care of Adam while we all went fishing. Michael showed up a little after eleven in his Red Jeep Wrangler with the top off. He hopped out and came sprinting up the driveway as dad and I were gathering up our fishing gear.
"Hey." I said with disinterest.
"You need some help?"
"Yeah, I can't find the tackle box." my dad said, "Can you look back there?" pointing to some shelves in the back of the garage. As Michael walked past us, he smelled of coconut oil. Over the summer he had developed a dark tan and he was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt that revealed some well developed arms. When I turned back to my dad, I noticed that he kept his gaze on Michael's backside.
When I looked back, Michael was reaching up, straining his calve muscles, attempting to reach a box on the top shelf. As he reached up, his shirt lifted as well.
Was that a tattoo on his lower back?
We were both starring at him. And when I realized this, I looked back at dad and saw that he was rubbing his dick through his shorts!
"DAD!" I yelled.
Startled back to the present he hollered, "WHAT?!"
"What are you doing?" I asked him, pointing to his hand.
"Nothing... go put this in the back of Mike's Jeep." he said, handing me a cooler and a plastic sack with chips in it. I took them down the driveway and heard Michael ask him if everything was okay.
"Oh yeah..." I heard dad say. And when I turned around I saw Michael lean in and kiss my dad on the mouth!
It stopped me in my tracks!
Michael just kissed my dad!
Michael just kissed my dad on the mouth!
"Hey Danny!" I heard Eric say from the street. I turned around. My mouth still open in astonishment and looked at Eric. He rode up to me on his bike.
"What the matter with you?"
I couldn't speak.
Eric slapped me on the arm.
"You want me to take those from you?" he said, indicating the cooler and sack of food.
"Uh... yeah. Just put them in the back of the Jeep."
"Oh sweet ride!" Eric exclaimed as he placed the stuff in the back.
"Daniel, I found the tackle box, you wanna put in the back too?" I heard Michael say from behind me.
When I turned around he was walking towards me with a big toothy grin, his eyes hidden behind a pair of aviators, and his arm outstretched with the tackle box dangling by the handle.
I couldn't say anything.
"Here..." Michael said handing me the tackle box, "...are you okay?"
"Yep... I'm fine." I said very quickly, grabbed the tackle box and turned to help Eric put the stuff in the Jeep.
"You guys ready?" my dad said in loud voice from the garage.
"Yeah, I think we've got it all Patrick!" Michael hollered back at him.
Eric and I got into the small backseat and I watched my father close the garage door and walk down the driveway.
Was he walking with a strut?
And why was his shirt not buttoned up?
It was open and I could see his entire chest. I don't remember him ever being so daring as to show skin in public.
Michael started the Jeep and we headed out to the lake. Eric and I were quiet in the back seat, it was difficult for us to talk because of all the wind, but dad and Michael seemed to be having a grand conversation; laughing and joking about different things.
And then I saw it.
Dad reached over and put his hand on the back of Michael's neck; just like he used to do with mom when they were in the front seat of our car and we would be on a driving trip.
I looked away in anger, but couldn't help but looking back and noticing my dad playing with the back of Michael's hair.
I started to feel sick to my stomach.
"What's the matter with you?" Eric asked me.
"Nothing, I just don't feel good."
"Well get over it. It's only going to get worse on the water." he said.
When we got to the pier, dad paid for the boat rental and we went out to the slip. It was a normal size fishing boat with a little wheel house, an open stern, and a small cuddy in the bow. We boarded and started out of the marina.
The sun was strong and there wasn't much of a breeze inside the marina, so I was sweating bullets almost instantly. That's when I noticed Michael first remove his shirt to reveal a well developed chest, void of any hair, two mounds of muscle on either side of his chest, wisps of blond hair clinging to his moist underarms, and a full eight pack set of ripped abdominal muscles glisten in the afternoon sun.
Michael was ripped! I mean - SERIOUSLY ripped.
Then he started to undo his weathered khaki cargo shorts. The placement of his hands on his waistband accentuated the dark blond trail of hair that lead below the waistband of his shorts to a small tight dark navy blue speedo type swim suit underneath.
As his shorts fell to the deck of the boat, he stood erect, both in stature, and manhood.
His little speedo straining against the girth of the huge dick he had shoved in these tiny little swim trunks. From the leg openings in the front of the suit, I could see the hair sprout out the edges and continue down the interior of his thighs until it faded into his tanned flesh.
"That's better." he announced to everyone on board.
Eric had taken off his shirt and when he turned around he was dumbstruck at the virtually naked male form standing on the deck in front of him - as was I.
I quickly looked at my dad, who was steering the boat from the wheel house, turn and bite his lower lip and the sight of Michael's backside.
Michael was an adonis!
A fucking muscle head!
Did my dad have the hots for him?
Michael turned to my dad and said, "I'm going to catch a few rays up top."
"Okay, no problem." dad replied.
We all watched as Michael jumped up the side of the wheelhouse, clamor along side the boat and crawl on top of the cuddy where he placed a large white towel and lay down on his stomach - directly in front of the window above the helm my dad was standing at.
From my dad's vantage point, he could look straight up between Michael's legs at his ass - which was quite bulbous and firm.
Dad continued to take us out of the break water and sped up once we were clear of other boats. The ride was exhilarating and I completely forgot about the freak show that was sprawled out in the front of the boat. Eric and I cast our lines, dad slowed down, and we got comfortable in two of the chairs that were at the back of the boat. We popped a couple sodas with my dad and waited for something to bite.
It was some time later when dad said, "I should check on Michael - I hope he didn't fall asleep up there."
"I'm sure he's fine dad - just leave him alone."
"No, I'll be right back."
I turned in my fishing chair and watched my dad take the same route to the front of the boat. I saw him lean down and nudge Michael and then start talking to him. I couldn't hear what they were saying but I honestly didn't want to know.
"So what's up with your dad and your brother's nurse?"
Eric's question caught me off guard, "What do you mean?" I replied in an obviously nervous and defensive tone.
"Well they are like best friends or something aren't they?"
"Yeah, I guess you could say that." even though it was not any kind of friendship I had seen before.
"Well, its cool that your dad has friends. My parents were worried about him after your mom died, but he seems really happy today - that's good - right?"
"Yeah, I suppose so."
"What is it?"
"Well... Nothing I guess."
"Don't worry, I'm sure your dad is fine." I appreciated Eric's optimism, but I don't think he would feel the same if he had seen that kiss.
When I looked back at Dad and Michael, they were both laying on their sides facing each other talking and smiling.
He did look happy. That is important isn't it?
But then dad reached out his hand and touched Michael's stomach and ran his fingers over the muscled ripples of his abdomen. I saw Michael shiver and just as he leaned in towards my father again I yelled out, "I'VE GOT ONE!"
It scared the shit out of Eric, who quickly looked at my line to see what was going on.
"DAD! I'VE GOT ONE, I'VE GOT ONE!" I hollered out again. I saw him quickly get up and make his way to the back of the boat.
"No you don't, your line is still floating." I heard Eric say as he reached for the line.
I slapped his hand.
"Fuck man!" he said pulling it back.
Dad came up behind me.
"You've got one?"
I paused as it was obvious that I didn't. My pole was still in the chair holster and the line was limp against the water.
"Oh... Well maybe not... Sorry - I thought I felt something."
He ruffled the hair on my head and told me I was "silly". Then he went to get a soda out of the cooler.
"Hey Patrick, can you grab me a diet?"
And then dad joined Michael back on the front of the boat.
I fell back in my chair and looked out at the water.
"What are you doing?" asked Eric.
And without thinking I said, "I think my dad is fucking my brother's nurse."
Eric choked on his soda and spit it out all over his legs.
"Yeah, I think my dad is gay and Michael is his boyfriend."
"Dude, why would you say that."
"Just look at them."
Eric turned around and watched the two of them on the front of the boat for a little bit, then looked back at me.
"Oh... Well... It's not so bad... I guess..."
"Are you kidding me?"
"Look, at least you still have your dad. You could be totally alone living with some foster family like Kenny Milton."
"Kenny Milton's parents got a divorce and he tried to burn down his mom's house. When those people find out my dad is a fag, they could take my brother and I away; then what would I do?"
"They aren't going to do that. Who is going to find out?"
"I don't know. I just wanna go home."
"Yeah, I don't feel like doing this anymore." I cut my fishing line and threw my pole on the deck. "DAD! I WANNA GO HOME!"
"I SAID I WANT TO GO HOME!"
I walked into the wheelhouse and looked through the window at the two of them sunning themselves on top of the cuddy. Dad was almost as naked as Michael was and Michael had a huge boner tucked inside his speedo shorts. I thought I might be sick.
"DAD, I REALLY WANT TO GO - I DON'T FEEL GOOD."
"OKAY DANNY, I'm coming."
As soon as we got back to the marina and parked the boat, I ran up the dock to the Jeep and waited in the back seat. I left the three of them to clean up the boat and gather up all of our stuff. About 30 minutes later I heard them walk up.
"Thanks for the help Daniel." my dad said.
"Yeah, thanks for the hand - are you okay?" Michael asked me.
"FUCK YOU!" I shouted back at Michael.
"HEY! Watch your fucking mouth!" my dad yelled at me.
"Dad, I just want to go home."
"Okay, but you don't talk like that to people, your mother would..."
"...MY MOTHER WOULD WHAT!?! WHAT WOULD SHE DO DAD!?!" I screamed at him.
He just stood there in silence.
I started to cry and hid my face behind my hands.
"Come on Patrick, let's get him home."
No one said a word on the ride home. When we pulled into the driveway, Eric helped my dad and Michael take the gear back into the garage and I ran up to my room, locked the door, and fell onto my bed - crying again.
"Why was this happening to me? What is wrong with my dad?"
I must have cried myself to sleep. When I woke up later, I heard my dad and Michael talking loudly downstairs. I quietly opened my door and tip-toed over to the stairway to better hear them.
They were talking about me and my temper-tantrum earlier today.
"Patrick, you have to tell him."
"I can't Michael; he won't understand. And even if he does, it will devastate him to learn that his father is a homosexual. How am I supposed to handle that?"
"The way you handle everything; with strength and love." and then I saw Michael touch dad's face.
Dad reached out and pulled Michael in to hug him.
Michael nestled his face into the nape of my dads neck and wrapped his arms around my dads waist where they embraced.
I couldn't look.
But then I heard my dad say, "Please don't go, I need you to stay."
Michael had pulled away with his back to the front door.
"I don't know if I should."
"Daniel is asleep, he won't hear us."
What won't I hear?
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure." Dad said
And then I saw him lift Michael's shirt over his head and drop it to the floor, "trust me, he won't hear a thing." and dad kissed him on the mouth.
I saw Michael's arms wrap around my dad's neck as they embraced and began to kiss frantically at the front door.
Michael lifted dad's shirt off and tossed it over to the steps.
Oh my god - what if they come upstairs?
It was then that I saw dad begin to kiss Michael's chest and nipples. He raised Michael's arms in the air and kissed his underarms, then kissed down his side as he knelt in front of Michael.
He fell back against the door and dad unbuttoned his pants, tugging them down revealing that tight navy blue speedo again, only this time - dad reached inside and pulled Michael's dick out.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My stomach was in knots, but I couldn't help but watch as my dad took Michael's dick into his mouth and begin to suck on it.
I watched in awe as my dad worked Michael's cock with his mouth and hands, cupping his balls and burying his face under Michael's huge nut sack. Michael's mouth was open and I could hear his heavy breathing even as he bit at is own lower lip.
"Oh my god Patrick, I have wanted you all day!"
Dad stopped his work and told Michael to be quiet.
"I can't help it, you feel so good."
Dad took both hands and pulled down Michael's speedo until he was able to step out of it, and then he turned Michael around so he was facing the door.
My dad stood up and thrust himself into Michael's backside and started grinding away at his butt and sucking at Michael's neck.
"Oh yeah... I want you to eat my ass." he told my dad.
Eat his ass? What the hell does that mean? Gross! And then I saw it.
Dad knelt down behind Michael, spread the cheeks of his big ass and shoved his face in. Michael reached back with one of his hands and held my dads head there for several minutes.
The more they kept at it, the more I couldn't look away - and then I noticed I had a raging boner in my underpants. Why did I have a boner? Oh my god! What is happening to me. My dick was aching to be touched, but I just couldn't do it. It felt so wrong, and yet each twitch of my body caused the head of my dick to rub against the cloth of my underwear and send shocks throughout my body.
Was it wet? Did I feel a cold sensation on the tip of my penis?
I looked back at dad and Michael just as dad's shorts and underwear dropped to the ground. There they were, two grown men standing naked in the foyer of my house, Michael pressed up against the cold steel of the front door, my father grinding his pelvis against him.
My heart was racing and my mouth went completely dry.
I pulled the waist band out from my stomach and reached inside. I felt the slick wetness I sometimes found in my underwear in the mornings, but the touch of my finger to the head of my penis sent shivers through my entire body. I've never felt my dick ache so bad, and my balls felt as if I had been kicked in them.
"Fuck me Patrick, fuck me now!" I heard Michael say.
Dad looked down, took his hand, and guided his dick into Michaels asshole. Michael let out little whimpers and moans. I couldn't tell if he was in pain or not. And then I heard him gasp out loud and dad pushed himself all the way in to him.
"Oh god, fuck me. Fuck me hard!"
And dad started pumping away at Michael's ass with tremendous force. Michael's legs were spread wide and shaking furiously as dad fucked him from behind. His arms outstretched trying to hold on to the front door.
That's when I felt more slick wetness ooze from the tip of my dick. There was a lot now. My hand was warm inside my pants and I couldn't help but wrap it around my dick. When I did, it took my breath away and felt like I was going to explode. I had heard how you are supposed to rub your dick when you masturbate but I was always to embarrassed to try it and scared of getting caught if I did.
The sounds that dad and Michael were making in the foyer, my dad's body slapping against Michael's butt, Michael's moans, and Dad's heavy breathing and grunting was definitely affecting me.
I gazed over at them in the dimly lit foyer.
The scent of their sun-kissed skin mixed with the coconut aroma and sweat was permeating the room. I could see the sweat running down the back of my fathers neck and down his back. He was glistening all over. Michael looked as if he might collapse from the intense ass pounding my father was giving him.
I couldn't stand it anymore. I had to do it.
It felt good to touch myself.
I used my own wetness to stroke my penis like I had heard other boys speak of in school and it felt fucking awesome. I went slow at first, trying to spread the wetness around with my finger tips.
This drove me wild.
I lifted my butt and slid my pajama pants and underwear down to my ankles right there at the top of the stairs.
I wrapped my sticky hand around the shaft of my penis and started to slowly stroke it. I instantly felt myself get short of breath at the sensation of it sliding inside my palm. My finger tips caressing the head and tip. Even more oozed from the tip and it felt as if I was soaking in it.
All the while, continuing to see and hear my dad fuck Michael's ass.
I couldn't help but wonder if this is what it felt like for my dad to be inside Michael. It had to be, but maybe tighter, and hotter. I gripped my penis even tighter and started to stroke it to the rhythm my dad was using. Each slapping noise that my dad's body made against Michael's butt matched my own fist pounding into my pelvis.
We were in unison.
And then I felt something I hadn't felt before - EVER!
It was this burning aching feeling erupt deep inside me and I felt myself lose control. My hips started thrusting into my palm, I raised up off the top step, my feet struggling to keep their footing a few steps below me.
Michael crying out in ecstasy as my dad pounded his ass like a Bob-The Builder Jack Hammer! My dad's moaning getting louder and louder until he screamed out "FUCK!!!!" and so did I.
My penis shot long sticky white lobs of cum on my face, neck, and t-shirt, then it began to shoot with less force and it filled my meager pubic hair with nectar. I jerked my dick as hard as I could - I didn't want the feeling to end - it was so fucking amazing. I imagined my dad filling Michael's ass with the same stuff that just shot out of my dick.
But then the unthinkable happened.
Adam's ventilator alarm went off.
Michael and Dad stopped and rushed up the stairs towards me.
I couldn't move!
Michael saw me first.
"What the fuck?" he said in a weak voice, still trying to catch his breath.
Then dad looked and saw his son spread out on the top five steps of the stair case covered in his own cum.
"You deal with this, I'll take care of Adam." Michael exclaimed, stepped over me and rushed into Adam's room.
"Daniel - what the hell are you doing?"
"Dad... I... I don't know?" I couldn't think of a thing to say.
My dad stood naked in front of me, his rock hard cock pointing straight at me, sweat glistening on his chest and stomach, his pubes soaked in sweat and cum.
I heard Michael call out to my dad, "Patrick, I could use some help in here."
"Adam!" and my dad stepped over me and into Adam's room.
After a few minutes the alarms stopped, and I stood up and went into Adam's room too.
"Is he okay?"
"Yes, he's fine - he just got a little worked up. His heart rate was 176 and he was fighting the ventilator." Michael informed us.
I pulled my pants up and felt my underwear begin to soak up my juices.
Dad and Michael stood naked at Adam's bedside for several more minutes checking him over before dad finally turned to me and told me to go to bed.
"We will talk about this tomorrow Daniel."
I turned away and did as he said.
The next morning, my dad woke me up for our little talk.
"Danny, I'm not sure what happened last night, or what you saw or heard, but I need you to know that it is okay. I don't want you to feel embarrassed or scared or angry."
"Dad, I'm sorry."
"Danny, you don't need to be sorry. I'm the one that should be sorry."
"But dad, I..."
"What you were doing is perfectly normal. I just wish that you hadn't seen Michael and I making love like that."
"Is that what 'making love' is like?"
"Well, for Michael and I it is. But not everyone makes love like you saw last night. The important thing here is that you didn't do anything wrong, okay?"
"Dad, are you gay now?"
"Danny, I don't know what I am. But I know that being with Michael makes me feel good and happy inside. And I have two beautiful sons I love very much and that I don't ever want anything bad to happen to either of you. Can you understand that?"
"I think so."
"It's okay if you don't. I'm still trying to figure things out too. We have to stick together, you, Adam, and I. Michael cares about you both very deeply and he only wants what is best for you."
My dad hugged me and held me tight. At first it was awkward; but in the end, he is still the same guy he was before, and he doesn't love me any less.
He's my dad.
Now that I'm older, I look back on all this and realize how unique my experience truly was. Sadly, Adam remained in a vegetative state and died when he was four years old, so he never knew how wonderful Michael and my dad really are. But I suppose he knows now.