The Protester's Son

Mitch woke up in a rattled state, sweat covered his body, and he felt so confused, not even sure he was in his own bed. The nightmares were getting worse. He had been having them for a couple of years and at first they didn't disturb him, seemed more like those dream images anyone could get where there is no sense of place, or of story, but just some imagery, silly images that made no sense. Those early dreams were images of other boys he went to school with, some in his neighborhood or from his church but he was only seeing small areas of their bodies, a nipple, a navel, a back, the calf of a leg, a neck and sometimes he had seen the way a crotch bulged out, or the way a pair of jeans hung on some boy's waist, his briefs just visible. He remembered how he always woke from those dreams, feeling ashamed, wondering about his increased fascination with the other guys he hung out with during that time. He knew his dreams reflected his thoughts, the way he had been looking at the other boys as they grew up, became teenagers, playing ball in the park or going to the public pool. He knew he had those attractions, fought to control them, thought he could wish them away, but the more he fought against this attraction to other boys the worse it got.

He couldn't be gay he had told himself over and over, but when he was honest with himself, standing naked in the bathroom, looking at his own body while thinking of another's he knew he was losing the battle to make himself someone else. It wasn't the idea of being gay that frightened him, it was his father's possible reaction. His father, deacon in the church, auto mechanic at a local shop, was also a man obsessed, his fanatical need for society to be a certain way, some idyllic image of America, where everyone is married, has 3 children or more and sex is only in marriage, human sexuality is an evil and any deviation from his preconceptions, his religious belief, is an abhorrence to humanity. He was insanely damning of abortion clinics, family planning organizations and gays and lesbians.

Mitch had been dragged to one protest after another, made to carry a sign when he was only seven, marching along with the adults. Over time his father began to pull back from abortion clinics, saying they were winning that war against evil, but he redoubled his efforts against gays and lesbians, became louder, screaming at festivals and other gatherings, disrupting every event he came to protest, calling those attending names, made references crude and horrific toward them and many of time he got arrested for disturbing the peace or being to forceful, threatened with assault charges. Their signs became uglier, spiteful, and Mitch tried to pull away, avoid having to carry one of those signs, and high school had been so full of activities and course work he had been able to beg off from going, but he was graduated now, stuck at home while he tried to get his life organized, determine what he wanted to do, fighting the urge to make a rash decision just to get away from his father, and it was all the worse since he had no way to avoid the weekend trips to protest at one event or another.

So the dreams became nightmares.

Cocks ejaculating blood in his face, cocks so large they tore him open, and he was always naked, at a family gathering trying to cover himself, coming out on a playing field with his friends who had changed into gym clothes and he naked, or riding in his car, the windows down and being pulled over by the police only to realize he was naked, his cock sticking up hard, and so many other images, scenarios freakish, grotesque or just bizarre. He woke with his cock hard and leaking most mornings, and he jacked off constantly, in the bathroom, in his bed late at night, in the woods by the playing fields in the park, and in his car coming home at night.

It tore at him, his desires and attractions, and once at his job at the grocery store stocking shelves a guy had walked by him, then a minute later came up to him asking for some product and Mitch had been struck dumb for a moment, the guy so handsome and when he stammered to the guy where the product was located the guy had smiled at him in such a way Mitch had just stood there staring at him. Then the guy asked if he would like to go do something sometime and instantly Mitch panicked, afraid it was somehow apparent his attractions to other guys.

What if it was visible on his face, this attraction, this desire he felt when he looked at other guys? He worried and fretted till his nightmares took on new aspects and his father seemed even more menacing. Through Mitch's internal turmoil his father seemed to grow more zealous, at times pacing back and forth in their living room, his voice like that of a preacher, the rhythmic up and down of his speech, the loud slow pronunciations of his damnations and Mitch would cower in the room, afraid to move if he couldn't get away and find a place to hide.

The day his father was preparing for a Pride festival four hours away, making more signs, printing more of his tracts that always ended up on the ground or in the trash, and rehearsing what he wanted to say in different confrontations Mitch had slipped out of the house and rode his bike down to the park. It was a sunny day and the sun beat down on him hot as he pedaled along the street, then down the lane leading to the interior of the park. He came to the benches that were positioned around the two basketball courts and he dropped his bike and sat on one bench.

How long he'd been there watching other people come and go he wasn't sure but he was startled when someone called out to him. He turned and saw two of his old high school classmates coming up with another guy following along. Roy and Mark had been in his class in high school. When they strolled up to where he sat he couldn't help but stare at the other guy, tall and lean with muscular arms showing with the tank top he wore. The guy had dirty blonde hair and his lower legs had a nice covering of hair.

"Hey Mitch, what's up?" Mark asked.

"Nothing. My old man is ranting and raving about another protest so I had to get out of the house."

"Jesus, does he ever give it a rest?" Roy stated; then he looked at the other guy as if he just remembered he was there, "and this is my cousin David. David this is Mitch."

"David" Mitch greeted him, afraid his eyes would give away what he was thinking as he looked at David with his high cheekbones with their rosy color, the way his hair was so fashionably messed up, his full lips and his hazel eyes.

"Mitch, nice to meet you" he replied, smiling back.

"Mitch, we're going to shoot some hoops; you want to play?" Mark asked.

"Sure."

"Good, David and I will go against Mark and you" Roy jumped in, taking his cousin for his teammate. Mitch knew Roy hated to lose, would even cheat to win and his cousin, taller than the rest of them seem to give him an advantage. David strolled over next to Mitch on the court as they started to play.

"I'll guard Mitch" he stated, then toward Mitch, whispering "I actually suck at basketball" as he gave Mitch as wink.

Mitch and Mark stayed ahead of Roy and David but David's height did make it hard for Mitch to score and as they played Mitch realized he and David kept bumping each other, bodies collided, and it got to Mitch, this physical contact, the way David's body could seem to envelope him. When they had been playing for a while, the sweat beginning to pour off of them, David pulled off his tank top and tossed it on the ground and Mitch tried hard not to stare at his body, the way his chest was so defined, his small round nipples riding high on his pecs and his stomach narrowing down to his waist, the muscles showing clearing down his stomach with his exertions pumping him up. Roy and Mark followed suite and Mitch suddenly felt self conscious being the only one still wearing a shirt and he eased his t-shirt over his head revealing his lean body, skin so fair for he never went without his shirt. He tossed it on the ground near the others and when he came back on the court he saw David look at him grinning.

The game became more physical for Mitch and David, their bumping into each other, one or the other riding up on the back of the other trying to get the ball or make a block and their sweat slick skin gliding over each other easily. Mitch felt every touch, each hot contact, and when David hovered over him, his chest pressed to Mitch's back he could smell his scent, that masculine odor of his body and he tried hard to concentrate on the game, but he began to mess up.

David was messing up too and Mitch wondered if he was doing some of it on purpose, letting Mark and him win just to make Roy madder. Mitch snatched the ball from David and took off for his end of the court and David had reached around trying to knock the ball away and their legs tangled and tripped the two of them where they fell into a heap on the court, legs and arms intertwined together and Mitch had felt it, David cock's pressing against his arm, half hard and he couldn't help himself, didn't know why he did it, but he pressed against it and felt it flex hard against him. David wrapped an arm around Mitch's neck and pulled his head back leaning in close.

"Fuck that was fun. Feels good doesn't it" he whispered into Mitch's ear.

David helped Mitch up and stood legs apart, his half hard cock obvious in his shorts and Mitch tried not to stare as he wondered if the others noticed. They continued to play and Roy and Mark seemed to play more physical as well, bumping and grinding on each other, knocking each other down. They were soaked in sweat, their breathing ragged as they kept pushing each other until Roy tried to take off with the ball after a steal and he lost his footing and went down hard.

"Damn, I've twisted my ankle" Roy cried out as he rolled on the ground holding his leg.

Mark agreed to help Roy home but David had turned to Mitch and asked him if wanted to shoot a few more baskets and the tone of his voice, the way he looked at Mitch made him nod yes.

They played against each other for a few minutes, continuing to bump into each other, to rub chests over backs, arms tangling together until the moment when David had Mitch in his face and he went down on his back taking Mitch with him. Mitch landed on top of David, their slick bodies rubbing over each other and David was holding Mitch by the hips and Mitch felt him grind his crotch against him and his cock, already half hard, grew completely stiff, painfully so in the confines of his shorts and he felt David's cock, hard and pressing against his own.

"Feels good, doesn't it" David asked, his voice low and casual.

Mitch looked into his hazel eyes, the way his face was flushed into a rosier color, his hair wet and messed up, but still looking so good. He felt the undulating movement of David's body as he was breathing hard, felt the heat of his skin against his own, and he moved his arms up David's sides, felt the hot slick skin as he brought each hand up and under David's shoulder's.

"Yes" Mitch whispered. David smiled at him, then leaned up and kissed him, lips gently touching at first, them more urgently, and soon Mitch felt David's tongue exploring his mouth, felt David's hands roam up his back hugging him tightly.

"Is there somewhere we can go?" David asked.

Mitch just nodded, his stomach in knots, unsure what he would be expected to do, what David would want and if he could give it to him but he got to his feet and helped David up. He nodded his head toward the trees along one side of the park, the area he had gone often, alone, and now he led David into the concealing shade, down the path Mitch knew so well, one that led to a corner of the park no one rarely went and he made his way off the trail down to a small clearing, the place he considered his secret place, and there he stood, unsure, anxious, nervous, his longings and desires about to be tested, fulfilled, and David came up to him, ran his hands over Mitch's chest, down his stomach and over his crotch groping his hard cock.

"This is a nice spot" David said in a hushed voice and leaned down and kissed Mitch on the neck, ran his lips over Mitch's ear, tongued it, sending shivers up Mitch's spine, and Mitch ran his hand up and down David's side, feeling the cooled skin, the smooth firmness, and he angled his head back giving himself to David, letting him do what he wanted. He felt David open up his shorts allowing them to fall to his ankles. He felt the hand rub and squeeze his cock through his briefs and he moaned as he pushed his body against David, so willing, ready, and David eased down on his knees, dragging down Mitch's briefs as he went, stripping him, revealing his body, so fair, unblemished, innocent and David took his hard cock, stroked it slowly and Mitch watched how his cock slide through the tight fist and when David brought his hand upward, milking the hard shaft and a drop of pre-cum beaded up at the head David leaned over and licked it off. Mitch gasped at the sensation of David's tongue when it touched him and he moaned even louder at the feel of David's mouth sliding down its length. David worked his mouth up and down Mitch's cock, slowly, feeling the vein lined surface slide through his lips. Mitch thought he'd fall over and held tightly to David's shoulders.

David pulled off and told Mitch to lay on his back and Mitch found David moving up between his spread legs, holding each ankle, bringing them upward, causing his knees to rise up, spread open and David took his cock again, sank his mouth all the way down on it. Mitch lay back, eyes closed, aware of every sensation, each warm caress, the warmth and wetness on his cock, and then the feel of fingers rubbing his balls, tugging on them slightly and those fingers moved downward and Mitch tensed up knowing they were about to touch him there. David swallowed his cock all the way and Mitch pushed upward with his hips and he felt those fingers touch him, rub over him, press against him and it felt good, sent shivers through him and he spread his legs more, opened himself up to David, let him probe his opening, rub and then push a finger against it. Then he felt the penetration, the sinking digit slide into him and he cried out, breaking the natural silence around them.

Mitch grabbed a handful of grass, squeezing it tightly in each fist as he lay back and let the sensations overtake him. The mouth on his cock, working up and down, tongue on the head, the suction, and the finger in his hole, pumping back and forth stroking an internal fire, his wanton lust, and he began to pump upward with his hips, small thrusts, just enough to feel his cock move a little more in David's mouth and then he felt it, two fingers, stretching him open more, probing deeply into his insides and he shoved up hard, cried out and came, pumping wad after wad into the suctioning mouth. He felt each jerk of his cock, each spasm of his hole around the fingers and he felt the way David sucked his cum down, swallowed it as it shot into his mouth.

Mitch felt spent even though David still held his hard cock and he sat up and watched as David milked his cock, slowly bringing his fingers along his shaft upward till a bead of cum rose up in the slit and David leaned over and licked it off.

"That was so sweet" David whispered to Mitch as he moved up over him. He lay on Mitch's naked body and kissed him as he ground his cock against Mitch's. Mitch could feel it was free, sticking out of his shorts as it pushed against him, sliding along the side of his own cock.

"Can I put it in you?" David whispered in Mitch's ear and Mitch panicked, suddenly afraid of going further and he tried to get out from under David as he kept saying no over and over.

"It's okay, relax. We don't have to do that...it's okay" David reassured Mitch, getting him to relax. David got up on his knees, straddling Mitch's waist and began to jack off, his hand building up speed till he was stroking it furiously. Mitch watched at first, mesmerized at how David's cock grew fatter, curved up hard and he could hear the slick sound of his hand stroking along the shaft. Mitch put his hands on David's ass cheeks and almost subconsciously began to pull David up along his body, getting David's cock closer and closer to his own face. He wanted to see it up close, wanted to see the shape of the head, see how the slit gaped open and how the pre-cum was drooling out of it. David shifted forward, slowly, working along Mitch's body till he held his cock right in Mitch's face, and he rubbed it over his cheeks, over his nose, across his lips, leaving a trail of pre-cum. Mitch stuck out his tongue and licked it off his lips; then he let David rub his leaking cock over his outstretched tongue. It was so sweet, the pre-cum and he suddenly wanted it, and he pulled on David's ass cheeks again and David held his cock down and let it slide between Mitch's lips.

"Oh that feels so good...yeah...take my cock" David said in gasping breaths. Soon he was pumping it in Mitch's mouth, slowly at first letting Mitch get used to it but his need to cum drove him faster and faster and soon he was pumping his cock through Mitch's fist and into his mouth till he reached down and held Mitch's head in place and pumped his cum into his mouth filling it till some drooled out at the corner. David finally spent stopped and let Mitch suck his cock dry and clean it off. He eased up, pulling his shorts back into place as he looked down on the naked form on the ground, and he wished he had more time, the opportunity to go further, for he knew Mitch would be ready soon, ready to go all the way.

"Mitch I enjoyed being with you, but tomorrow morning my folks and I head back home."

"Yeah, I know" and Mitch looked up at him smiling, grateful for the experience he was able to enjoy. "Maybe you'll come visit your cousin again and we can meet up again?"

"Yeah, maybe."

David picked up Mitch's clothes and watched him dress and then they went back to where Mitch had locked up his bike. A few minutes later they each went their own way, David back to Roy's house and Mitch back to his own where he knew his father would be waiting on him, ready to give him all his plans for the weekend. He dreaded every moment to come.

The van was parked a few blocks away on a side street and the side door was open with Mitch and his father handing out the signs and pamphlets for their protest march at the Pride festival getting ready to start. They had driven four hours yesterday to get here and were up early this morning, grabbing breakfast at a fast food restaurant and then circling the site of the festival as best they could to scout the final preparations of the organizers. The festival was to officially begin at 11 a.m. and Mitch's father wanted to be set up a few minutes prior so they grabbed up their gear and headed down the sidewalk.

Ten till eleven found Mitch's father yelling in a bullhorn, coarse crude references to the festival goers coming in, damnations of every conceivable type man could dream up and some Bible scripture thrown in to make it all seem righteous. The others paraded up and down the sidewalk with their signs held high, handing out pamphlets and trying to engage some the people individually. They just didn't get the rise out of the attendees like they use to and it was harder to get a good confrontation happening but some of the group tried their best and Mitch went from one embarrassing moment to the next till he walked with his head down unable to look at anyone.

For over an hour they made their stand around the main entrance area and Mitch's father got more belligerent, worse with the name calling, and Mitch finally could stand it no longer and when he got to the end of the loop they were assigned to make he slipped out of their loose line and headed back to the van.

"Hey Mitch, where ya going?" one of the men yelled out to him.

"I don't feel well, so I'm going back to the van."

For the five blocks to the van he felt so embarrassed to have been a part of this, so ashamed he felt like crying. Everyone he passed who saw the sign he was carrying made disparaging comments as they passed and he took them, didn't look up, reply or attempt to hide the sign. It was his punishment for his part in it.

At the van he slid the side door open, tossed the sign inside and sat on the door sill as he stared at the ground trying to figure out what he was suppose to do, or what he should do. He was hungry, thirsty and even more so, just plain angry. He reached around and grabbed up the sign, jumping up on the sidewalk.

"FUCK!" he cried out as he swung it as hard as he could against a pole breaking the wood handle and bending the poster in two. The poster and upper part of the wood handle lay on the sidewalk and Mitch stood holding the bottom section, breathing hard, his frustrations, his inner character rising up suffocating this person his father tried to make him become. He grabbed up the poster and tossed everything in the van and slammed the door shut. He stood staring in the window of the van and his reflection stared back. He saw this kid, with a bad haircut in a short sleeved white dress shirt and cheap tie. He saw someone living a lie. He saw someone who had to make a change. He thought of how the guys were dressed going in, in shorts, jeans, t-shirts with sleeves rolled up, tank tops, or bare-chested and he looked at his reflection and knew the first thing he had to do was change his appearance as best he could. He opened the door on the van back up and removed the tie, tossing it in on top of the busted sign. He pulled the dress shirt off and tossed it in as well, leaving him in his t-shirt, a cheap white brand that was so thin he could see his nipples plainly through the white fabric. He rolled up each sleeve and looked in the window at his reflection. He climbed in and got his gym bag out that had his clothes in it and dug out his jeans. He pulled the cheap brown dress pants off and slipped the jeans on. He tossed his dress shoes and socks on the floor of the van and dug out his flip flops, slipping his feet in them. Wallet, keys and cell phone in pocket, he closed the van leaving everything still scattered around inside, and headed toward the festival. He cut over a couple of blocks to enter away from his father.

Inside the festival, the streets and sidewalks were crowded, vendors of all types lined the streets and stages were set up at key locations. Mitch wandered through the crowd, still avoiding eye contact, afraid someone would recognize him, but no one accosted him, no one yelled at him, but time and time again he saw one guy or another smile at him as they passed and soon he relaxed, began to nod hello back. He found a vendor selling sodas and got something to drink and ambled over to the side and sat on a low wall around a raised planter that afforded him shade and a place to sit and people watch.

He watched the guys go by, most dressed casually, jeans or shorts and t-shirt or tank tops, but he also saw guys dressed in leather, some in uniforms, and some in bikinis and he stared at them, looked at the exposed bodies, the bulges of jeans or the outline of cocks in bikinis. It was more sexual than anything he had ever seen before and it pleased him to see it so openly expressed, not made evil, smothered in some prudish nonsense. Soda finished he made his way to one of the stages and watched the band playing finish their set, then a drag queen came out, something he'd never seen before and he found himself laughing and clapping along with her.

He kept looking around at the guys huddled in groups and those that were obviously couples, holding hands, kissing on occasion, and he felt a stab of pain that was his loneliness, his past isolation, and even standing among the crowd, shoulder to shoulder, he felt like a derelict, something cut off, apart from the whole and he eased out of the crowd back along the main street stopping by one vendor after another, just looking at the merchandise, the art work, the services some were offering and when he came to the youth crises assistance tent he stopped, pulling down their main pamphlet scanning it quickly seeing how they help those kicked out of their homes, helped them find jobs, finish school and provided support.

"Can I help you? You have any questions?" a woman asked and Mitch looked up into the face of a middle aged woman, her graying hair pulled back, her attire, her entire appearance was casual, friendly, approachable and her smile so comforting he almost said yes, but he just nodded no and backed away.

It had rattled him, this opportunity that was right there for the taking and he couldn't bring himself to take the step, admit he needed help, wanted away from his own father. He walked down the crowded street, zigzagging through the people, his vision a blur, his mind focused on his inner turmoil not his surroundings. Suddenly someone grabbed his arm, spun him around and he realized it was one of the men with his father.

"Here he is...OH MY GOD, look at you" the man yelled out drawing attention to them. Mitch tried to wrest his arm from the man's grip, wanted to get away from him.

"Let me go" Mitch cried out. He looked around at the people who had stopped to watch him and the man struggle with each other and then he saw him, his father, pushing through the crowd.

"What do you think you are doing?" he bellowed as he came up to Mitch and he raised his hand up and slapped Mitch hard across the face nearly knocking him to the ground.

"Hey man, that's enough" someone yelled out and suddenly others joined in, the gap that existed around Mitch, his father and the man holding his arm suddenly closed and there was pushing and shoving, yelling, and then he saw his father, his face red with rage, throw a punch and someone fell and then a policeman came into the crowd, then another, and then there seemed to be so many Mitch couldn't' count them. In the mayhem that ensued Mitch broke free ducking under the arms pushing and shoving and he made his way out of the crowd and took off running.

Mitch made it to the far end of the festival where a stage sat in a parking lot facing the street and he went over to a bench along the main sidewalk and sat down, his breathing ragged, exhausted and panicked, he couldn't make himself calm down. He sat for a few minutes and noticed some of the people passing looked at him with concern. He wished he could hide, or just disappear and he leaned forward, head down trying to get his breathing to return to normal.

Three pair of feet came into his view and he slowly sat up and saw the three guys before him, two about his age and one slightly older. The older guy moved forward and stooped down in front of him.

"Hey, uh, well, we saw what happened back there. Are you okay?"

Mitch just nodded, his eyes suddenly watering up and his nose tried to run.

"Look, I take it you were with the protesters?"

Mitch looked into the guy's eyes and saw the concern, the sympathy. "Yeah, one of them was my father."

"Oh shit" one of the younger guys blurted out.

"I'm Bill, and this is Stacy on my right and the big mouth on my left is Charlie" the older man said, pointing behind him with each introduction.

"I'm Mitch."

Charlie leaned on Bill looking over his shoulder, "Hey you want to come with us to get something to drink?"

Mitch didn't know what happened with his father and the others, but some friends of Stacy and Bill came upon them at the area with food vendors and said the police escorted them out but they didn't know if they arrested anyone. Mitch listened and tried to care about what he was hearing but all he felt was relief to be away from them. Bill, Stacy and Charlie had Mitch stay with them while they made their way from stage to stage, stopping along the way at different vendors to check them out or to talk with someone manning it. Mitch couldn't help but notice how each of the guys was attractive in their own way, Bill, who was a little older, his body filled out, with his short black hair; Stacy who was a little taller than Mitch, stocky, a footballer's build, with brown hair and long sideburns and a goatee; and Charlie who was Mitch's height, with a lean body and strawberry blonde hair and fair skin with a small line of freckles over his nose and cheeks. The guys all made an effort to include Mitch, continuing to ask how he was doing, buying him drinks and snacks, but it was Charlie who seemed more emotionally concerned, who seemed to be sad when Mitch felt a sadness settle over him and who smiled boyishly when they got Mitch to smile or even laugh. As the day wore on and the crowd began to thin for the day Charlie pulled Mitch to the side and got him to sit on a bench.

"Hey guys, give us a minute will ya; we'll catch up with you at the stage" Charlie told Stacy and Bill and Bill looked at Mitch and then over at Charlie and smiled at them nodding his head okay.

Mitch and Charlie sat watching the crowd pass by, not saying anything at first, Mitch wondering what Charlie had to say and Charlie trying to figure out how to ask Mitch what he wanted to ask. The quiet between them became too tense and finally Charlie turned to Mitch, stammering some as he spoke.

"What...what are you going to do?"

"I have no idea. There's that support group I saw earlier, in fact I got a brochure from them."

"You've been thinking of taking off for a while, haven't you?"

"Yeah."

Charlie slid closer to Mitch, their thighs almost touching, and Charlie leaned down, elbows on his knees and he turned and looked back up at Mitch.

"You could come to my place, just crash on the sofa if you want. I'd help you find a job. I know some people...I have some friends...well, I could help you, ya know?"

Mitch looked down at Charlie and saw he was sincere, knew he had been all afternoon.

"Seriously, I could crash at your place?"

"Yeah...I mean it is nothing fancy but...just a one bedroom...I don't have a roommate or anything...no pets either...do you like pets...and..."

"Sure, I'd love to come to your place" Mitch interrupted him, knowing Charlie was stammering.

Mitch lay on the sofa in Charlie's apartment, a one bedroom unit in an older complex, one with large windows looking out into a vast green space between the buildings. He lay there thinking of the day, how it had gotten so out of control, how he had been drifting around, lost, unsure of his next move and he thought of the afternoon with Bill, Stacy and Charlie and how different it had been, the way the guys had let him hang out with them, be a part of their group and it had seemed more comforting than any time he could remember with his own family in a long time.

He rolled over on his side looking out the open blinds at the silhouetted trees thinking of how nice Charlie had been to him and had told the others he was going to let him crash at his place. They hadn't stayed till the end of the festival but had left at Charlie's urging, telling him he would treat him to dinner at a place a little better than the street vendors. He took Mitch to a small Mexican restaurant that was loud with music, the place slammed with all types of people from families to people who had obviously been at the festival and they had sat in a back corner in a booth. With wait staff running from table to table, musicians going around the room and people talking and laughing, Charlie had leaned in close to Mitch and told him he understood, knew how he felt, and how he hadn't had to run away or didn't get kicked out but his relationship with his parents was not good. Mitch then confessed to Charlie what it had been like the last couple of years and how it was getting worse and even his oldest sister rarely visited any more. They sat in the restaurant a long time, just the two of them, talking about their pasts and Charlie telling Mitch how he was going to college while he worked and Mitch listened, relieved to hear someone else tell him how they had done it, moved on from a bad situation.

Now he lay thinking how Charlie had been so nervous around him when they got to the apartment, stammering worse than usual, and he kept telling Mitch he wouldn't mess with him and that he could feel safe and relax and it hit Mitch how Charlie had seemed attracted to him but afraid to say so, afraid to show it and he thought about how David had been aggressive with him back home a couple days ago, had just taken a chance with him and how it had been so nice, so pleasant to just let the moment happen.

He eased up off the sofa and went to Charlie's bedroom door and pushed it open slowly, making it squeak. The room was dimly lit by the property security lights, it filtering through the blinds partially open and he could see Charlie's form under the sheet.

"Charlie" he whispered "are you asleep?"

"No."

"Can I come in?"

Mitch saw Charlie rise up where he had been lying staring at the door and he pulled the sheet up, invitingly, as he waited for Mitch.

"Yes."

Mitch moved across the room and eased down by Charlie feeling his warm body next to his own and he felt the warmth of Charlie's bare chest against his arm, as he was only wearing his briefs. Mitch had on his briefs and t-shirt but he rose up and pulled the shirt off, tossing it on the floor. When he lay back down he felt Charlie's hand rest on his chest, rub over him, over each nipple making them erect. He brought his left arm up and around Charlie giving him more space and Charlie moved up close to him, pressed against his side and Charlie could feel his body down his entire side, including the hard cock pressing against his hip. Mitch moved his left hand up and put it on Charlie's neck and pulled him down and kissed him, gently, softly. He let Charlie go, let him rise up in the dark, his head in silhouette.

"Is this okay?" Mitch asked; his nervous voice so low as to be barely audible.

"Yes" and Charlie kissed him again, passionately, his hand roaming over Mitch's body, chest, stomach and down over his growing erection. Charlie squeezed Mitch's cock, ran his fingers back and forth along its length and Mitch gasped at the sensation.

Charlie threw the sheet off of them and moved down by Mitch's hips and he ran his tongue over the bare stomach right along the edge of the briefs making Mitch giggle and squirm underneath him. Charlie ran his mouth down, over Mitch's cock, mouthed the shaft, sucked on the head through the cotton fabric till it was wet. He pulled the briefs down and Mitch kicked them off, spreading his legs letting Charlie get between them. Charlie lay on top of him, their slim bodies, so similar, lay against each other, as he ran his hands down Mitch's sides, up and down he ran his hands and Mitch brought his feet up, knees raised and spread as he pushed his hips upward, pressed his cock against Charlie. Charlie held Mitch's hands down and mouthed and nipped his earlobes, ran his tongue along Mitch's jaw and back to his lips.

"I want to suck you" Charlie whispered in the dark and he moved down Mitch's body, eased down between his legs and Mitch felt him take his cock, stroke it slowly with his hand and then he felt it, the warm breath, the tip of his tongue, the warmth of his mouth as it slid down the shaft. Charlie took all of him, moved his mouth down till his nose touched Mitch just above his cock.

"Oh fuck, that feels good" Mitch cried out.

Charlie sucked his cock, teased it with his tongue and stroked it with his hand and Mitch began to pump his hips upward, slowly at first, then faster and faster until Charlie let him go sat up between his legs letting his cock bob up and down over his stomach, it so hard, so close, pre-cum drooled down to his stomach. Charlie shifted up and down between his legs and Mitch realized he was removing his briefs working them down each leg and off. Charlie eased Mitch's legs down and straddled them, moved up over him till he was hovering over Mitch's hard cock. Mitch felt Charlie take it, hold it vertical rubbing his ass over the head, back and forth he moved as he pressed his weight down. Mitch bucked upward, his cock so sensitive to the touch and the way Charlie was moving over him made him cry out. Then he felt it, Charlie's hole pressing down on his cock, opening up, letting him in and Charlie moaned loudly as he let his body slide down the hard shaft burying it in his hole. Charlie was impatient, wanted Mitch so badly, had all day and be began to ride Mitch's cock, up and down, working his body hard, the bed rocking beneath them, then it began to slam into the wall as Charlie shifted positions, leaned forward and worked his lower body on Mitch's cock.

"Charlie...Charlie....CHARLIE..." Mitch cried out as he began to pump his cum deep into him, shoving upward as much as he could as Charlie slammed his body down. As Mitch shot the last of his cum Charlie settled down on his hips, cock still buried all the way inside of him as he began to stroke his own cock, fast rough strokes, his hand slamming down all the way.

"Stop Charlie, stop" Mitch said to him as he reached up and put his hand over Charlie's stopping his strokes.

Charlie looked down at the dimly lit figure on his bed. Mitch looked up at Charlie, nervous, unsure of himself, but his desire was overwhelming, and he rose above his fear and ran his hands up Charlie's sides and brought him down on top of him, hugging his hot body against his own.

"Charlie...put it in me...okay?"

Charlie leaned up and nodded and rose up off Mitch's still hard cock and down between his legs. He raised Mitch's legs onto his shoulders and rubbed his hands down the fine sparse hair on the lower legs.

"You sure?"

"Yes."

Charlie moved over him, folded him in half, his ass turned upward, open, exposed and Mitch relaxed to Charlie's probing, first his fingers, one after the next till he felt three in his hole, opening him up, loosening the tight ring of his hole and then he felt it, the blunt head of Charlie's cock, swollen big, flared out and he felt it breach his hole, penetrate him, sink slowly into him and he arced his back on the bed, his eyes closed as he moaned and grunted to every inch of cock Charlie sank into him.

Charlie was gentle, took his time, as he eased his cock into Mitch until he was all the way in. Mitch lay underneath him, his body quivering, and Charlie held still till he felt him relax. He pulled his hips back, pulled his cock almost all the way out, then he eased it back in. He did it over and over until he felt Mitch push up to him, take his cock easily and he heard Mitch whispering, over and over, barely audible, but he leaned down closer and heard what he was saying.

"Fuck me Charlie, fuck me."

Charlie shifted over Mitch, held himself up on his hands and feet, only his cock buried in Mitch and Mitch's legs on his shoulders made contact between them and he began to pump his hips, work his cock in and out of Mitch, faster and faster, till he was thrusting as hard as he could into the upturned ass. Mitch reached up and pulled him down, brought their bodies together, hot and sweaty, hugged him tightly as he continued to grind his cock into Mitch's hole, thrusting all the way in. He couldn't take it, all the sensations racing through his body, his desires, his needs, and the way Mitch responded to him drove him harder until he felt his body tense up tight, his thrusts turn to short hard jabs and he came, pumping everything he had deep into Mitch.

They lay intertwined, exhausted, their bodies finally cooling down and Charlie held Mitch, twirled his fingers in his hair as he listened to his breathing settle down.

"You want me to go back to the sofa?" Mitch asked without looking at Charlie.

"What? Hell no; you're staying in here."

It had been two weeks and Mitch was still at Charlie's, although there was no pretending he was sleeping on the sofa. The crisis assistance had helped him get his checking account moved and helped him find a job. His father had refused to let him have his car or his bike, so he had gotten one at a pawn shop, which he was able to use to get to work only a couple of miles from the apartment. He had told Charlie he would cook dinner tonight and had stopped at the grocery store on the way home. He carried his bike up the stairs and came in to hear the shower running and saw the mail on the table. He assumed it was all Charlie's but when he glanced down he saw one letter was addressed to him. It was his sister's return address on it.

Nervously he opened it up and as he read it Charlie came into the room, towel around his waist, but Mitch hadn't noticed, to absorbed in what his sister had written. When he finished he looked over at Charlie, trying not to get upset, and smiled weakly.

"Well?" Charlie asked.

"She hopes we're well and is glad I'm out on my own away from dad...and...and she wants to come visit...us."