Aaron's Discovery

Aaron Watson stared out the window of the rattling Ram pickup.  He looked over at the driver, one Emory Lambert, a nice guy from two rooms over in his dorm.  Emory had agreed to give Aaron a ride home for ten dollars of gas money.  For the first ten miles, Emory had talked non-stop about how excited he was to go home to see his girlfriend before switching topics to talk about his gay cousin, whom, he insisted, he had no problems with.

“I don’t care who he loves as long as he’s happy.”  

“That’s the important thing,” Aaron replied, wondering why Emory needed to reassure him that he was cool with Aaron’s homosexuality.  After that, the conversation, which had been one-sided, fizzled to silence.  Several minutes later, Emory asked whether Aaron would be bothered with some country music.  They were now listening to country hits from the 1960s and 70s, and Aaron felt a tightening in his belly as they drew closer and closer to his parents’ home.  He wished he’d decided to go straight to his grandparents.  He closed his eyes and tried not to think about it.

“Hey,” Emory nudged him.  “We’re here.”

Aaron turned slowly to look at him.  “Already?”

Emory let out a laugh.  “You’ve been sleeping for the last hour.  Finals can really wear you out.  I’ll probably sleep for a week.”

Aaron stretched out his back.  “I should probably give you a tip for such a nice trip.”

“Fuck that,” said Emory.  “You’ve already paid for my gas for the entire trip.  You have a good summer.  Now, get the hell out so I can go home.”  He laughed a genuine laugh.

Aaron reached out and shook his hand.  “You have my number.  And if your cousin’s ever near Simpson, have him call me.  I’m always up for a blind date.”

“He’s not blind.  He does wear glasses though.”

Aaron locked eyes with Emory, and Emory returned the gaze for about fifteen seconds before a small curl formed at the edge of his lips.  Both of them began to laugh at the bad joke.  “Poor taste and very inappropriate,” said Aaron.  “You’re my kind of guy.”

“I’m taken,” smiled Emory.

Aaron got out and grabbed his two bags from the back of the pickup.  He stood back as Emory pulled away.  He watched him disappear from sight before turning to face the house and noticed for the first time the for sale sign in the yard.  “Doesn’t matter,” he said out loud to himself.  “Just a week and then I’ll be at Grandpa’s.”  Aaron moved slowly to the front door.  He studied the bushes lining the porch and the shingles of the roof.  He remembered how he and his brother Michael got yelled at for tossing tennis balls onto the roof and catching them as they rolled off.  He wondered now whether they had actually damaged any of the roof or if was that just another reason his dad used to yell at him.  “Doesn’t matter,” he repeated.

As he stepped onto the porch, he wondered whether he should ring the doorbell.  Was it technically still his home or had his year away at school changed that?  He put his smaller bag on the doormat and turned the handle.  The door was locked.  He pushed the button and heard the distant ring of the chimes followed by an eerie silence.  He was about to ring again when he heard the click of the door unlocking.

The hinges squealed slightly as the door opened and revealed his seventeen-year-old brother Michael.  “Hello, Mikey,” said Aaron.

Michael stepped up to his brother and hugged him.  Aaron dropped his other bag and hugged back.

“I’ve missed you,” said Michael.

“I’ve missed you, too.  Is everything OK?”

“No, everything’s a mess.  We’ll go to my room, and I’ll fill you in.”

“Tell me now.”

“Get inside,” growled the distinctive voice of Elton Watson.  “We’re not putting on a show for the neighbors.”

Michael grabbed Aaron’s larger bag, and Aaron picked up the other.

“In the living room,” said his father.

“Can I drop these off in my room first?” asked Aaron.

“We can put them in my room,” said Michael.  “Here, give me that one.”

“Your room?”  Aaron held onto the bag.  “I can help you.”

“Your grandmother’s in what was your room.  Did you think we’d keep your room for you after you moved out?”

“Grandmother?  Are Grandpa and Grandma visiting?”  Aaron's face lit up into a smile.

“Your grandfather died two weeks ago,” snapped his father.  “Put your shit away and come into the living room.”

Aaron’s body froze in place.  “What?”  His chest constricted, he was barely able to get the word audible.  Tears began to well up in his eyes.  He felt the room sway beneath him, and his jaw began to quiver.  He felt the bag slip from his fingers.

“You’re such a fucking pussy,” grumbled his father with his face contorted into a look of disgust.

Michael pulled at him.  “Come on.  Let’s go to my room.”

His lips trembling, Aaron was unable to reply.  He allowed himself to be dragged to Michael’s room, and he gave in to the pressure of being pushed into the room.  He collapsed onto Michael’s bed.  “No,” he muttered, and the sobbing started.  Aaron sucked at the air.  Unable to pull in a full breath before the next convulsion of grief forced itself out of him.

“Oh, Aaron, I’m so sorry.  I didn’t know that he would tell you like that.”

Aaron looked up at Michael through the blur of his tears.  His insides felt as though he were falling through space.  “But I was supposed to spend the summer with him.  He was the only one who loved me.”

“I love you, Aaron.”  Michael pulled Aaron to him and kissed his temple.   “They wouldn’t let me call you.  They said they didn’t want you to get upset and fail your classes and end up moving back home.  They got back this morning from the reading of the will, and they are all angry.  I’m not sure why, but the last couple of weeks have been hell.”

Aaron reached over and hugged his brother.  His heaving respiration slowly returned to normal.  “I need to go out there or it’s going to be worse.  He’ll come in here and yell some more.  Oh, Michael, I wish I knew what to do to make it easier for you.  Mom and Dad hate me, and I don’t understand the level of their hatred. I didn’t do anything except tell them I’m gay.”

“I ruined their perfect little family,” said Michael.

“It was never perfect.  It was better than most.”

“You didn’t ruin it,” added Michael.  “They did.”  Michael’s eyes began to tear up.

“Hey, now.  Deep breaths.  Otherwise, Dad will say I contaminated you.”

“I wish you would.  Two guys have asked me out and three girls have said no,” said Michael.

“Yeah, well, it’s not any easier on this side, especially when you’re looking for love,” Aaron told him.  “Let’s go out and face the firing squad so we can get on with life.”  A wave of pain traveled through him, and he pushed it away.  I’ve got to control myself.  I’m so tired of being called a fucking pussy.”

Michael kissed his temple again.  “Just remember that every time he does that, he's just proving that he’s the real pussy.”

“Meow,” said Aaron.

Michael smiled.  “Meow.”  He stood up.  “Let’s go find out that all the money is going to take care of cats.”

Aaron shook his head and pushed out a huge breath before standing up next to his brother.  He hugged him again, and the two went to the living room.

As Aaron surveyed the living room, he considered his original thought of a firing squad to be an accurate one.   He stood in front of the fireplace with Michael by his side.  His father had instructed Michael to sit next to his mother on the sofa, but Michael had declined.

Next to his mother Sofia sat his sister Lauren.  His father sat on the arm of the sofa, and his grandmother was in the recliner on his father’s right side.  Aaron wanted to tell his grandmother how sorry he was and that he loved her, but he saw anger in her eyes.  Was she angry with him?

“Well, you sure know how to fuck up the family’s plans, don’t you.”  The vitriol in his father’s voice was palpable.

Aaron remained silent.  He’d been the subject of a family discussion like this one once before and discovered that he was in a no-win situation.  His father’s anger would not be defused.  Aaron did not look at his mother.  She would always side with his father; they were always a united front.  He was always on the losing side of any war he fought against them.

“Does all this have something to do with the will?” asked Michael.  “Did Grandpa give it all away to a charity or something?”

“In a sense,” spat his father.  “He put it in a trust.”  He paused.  “For Aaron.”  He paused again.  “You get nothing, Michael.  Lauren gets nothing.  I get nothing.  Your grandmother gets nothing; well, except for the right to live in a house that now belongs to Aaron.”

With his father’s eyes now focused on him, Aaron fidgeted slightly.

His father continued.  “You must suck dick really good, for him to leave you everything.”

“Elton!” shouted Aaron’s grandmother.  “I will not have you speak that way about your father.  It’s obvious he liked Aaron better than anyone else.  I just cannot believe he left you the house.”

“I love that house, Grandma.  You can live there as long as you want.”  Aaron took a step toward his grandmother.

“I hate it.  I’ve always hated it.  His Aunt Sheila left it to him before we were married.”

“So,” interrupted Michael, “everyone is upset because Grandpa left Aaron the house, and the money’s in a trust fund.  What a miserable lot of people you are.  You’re no worse off today than you were yesterday.  Aaron has to take care of a house and go to college.  How’s he going to pay for all that?”

“The trust fund is set up to help him with that,” sneered their father.

“Is there paperwork for him to sign?” asked Michael.

Elton’s face became even more tense.  “Of course, there’s fucking paperwork.”

Aaron looked from his mother’s face to his sister’s.  He saw no love, no empathy, nothing that made him feel that he was part of the family.

“Will you give me the number to call to set things up for him?” asked Michael before turning to Aaron.  “We’re done here.  Let’s go.”

Aaron turned and followed Michael back to his room.  “I don’t want to stay here, Michael.”

“Not even for tonight?”

“No.  I don’t have money for a hotel.  Maybe we can find the old tent and go camping or something until I can figure it out.”

“Aaron, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

A knock at the door interrupted Aaron’s rebuttal.  Michael opened it to find Lauren standing there with an envelope in her hand.  “It’s for the traitor.  From the lawyer.”  She dropped the envelope as Michael reached for it.

“You’re a nasty bitch, aren’t you,” Michael said as he bent down to pick up the envelope.

“Go fuck yourself,” she retorted.  “Or have the traitor do it for you.  I’m sure you’re both into that kind of thing.”

Michael clenched his teeth together.  His face reddened with anger, and he closed the door with force and turned to face Aaron.  “I hate them.  I know it’s wrong, but I do.  I haven’t told them, but I already have a job.  I’m doing some training in Rockdale before I head to Alabama.  I was going to ask Grandpa if I could stay with them while I did the training.  It starts in two weeks, so I’ll need to arrange something.  Anyway, I’ve already started to sneak things into the trunk of my car.”

“How did we grow up normal?” asked Aaron.

“Who says we’re normal?” Michael laughed.  “Normal kids don’t hate their parents, not to the level I do.  I’m not sure about you.”

“I used to.  I feel sorry for them now.  They’re a miserable lot.”

Michael smiled.  “Is that from Dickens?  On-your-knees-sir Dick-Ins?”

“That’s a really bad joke.  And, I don’t know who wrote it.  It does sound like something out of a book, doesn’t it?  By the way, Ebenezer was Scrooge’s first name.  Dickens’ first name was Charles.”  Aaron reached for the envelope.  “I assume that’s for me.  Is it addressed to Mr. Traitor?”

“It says ‘Aaron’ on the front and ‘Fuck You’ on the back,” Michael said.

Aaron brought his eyebrows together.  “Really?”

“No,” laughed Michael.  “It doesn’t.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” said Aaron.  “What is it?’

Michael handed him the envelope.  “I don’t read other people’s mail.  At least, not in front of them.”

“Good.  Now, let’s see what’s in here.”  As Aaron tore at the sealed flap, a key fell into his lap.  Michael caught it before it fell to the floor.  Aaron pulled a sheet of paper from the envelope and opened it.  He began to read aloud.

Dear Mr. Watson, Herein you will find the key to the house left to you by Eugene Charles Watson.  You may inhabit the domicile at your earliest convenience; however, please stop by our offices to sign the necessary release forms.  The utilities and insurance for the house and adjoining structures will be taken care of by the Watson Trust.  The pick-up truck currently housed in the garage is also at your disposal.  Those keys as well as other keys are in an envelope in the desk that belonged to Eugene Watson.  Yours cordially, Thomas Schanche, Esq.

Aaron looked at his brother with a smile.  “We have a place to live, Mikey.”

Michael smiled back at Aaron.  At the same instant, Aaron felt a knot of pain form in his chest; tears welled up in his eyes.  Grief overwhelmed him like a wave cresting and crashing onto the shore.  He began to sob.  The sense of loss was contagious, and Michael began to sob.  The brothers reached out and held one another; the joy of their grandfather’s providing them with an escape from their current life was overshadowed by the reality of his loss.

The old Ford Explorer pulled into the driveway of Aaron’s new home.  Michael parked the vehicle in the back just in front of the garage.  Aaron got out of the truck and scanned the house he had always loved.  He had loved the Victorian-style architecture but now he wondered whether some of that feeling had been the result of his grandfather living there.  The house seemed slightly sad to him.

Michael closed the door and walked to the rear of his most valued possession.  “What’s first?”

“Let’s go inside.  I just realized that we didn’t stop for food, and I’m not sure that there’ll be anything that’s edible.”

“If there’s stuff in the fridge, I’m sure it needs to be tossed.  I don’t think Grandma has been here in a couple of weeks.  The freezer might have something in it.  Grandpa always kept it pretty full.”

“Oatmeal cookies and pork chops?”

“Always a chance for mixed vegetables.”

Aaron coughed and made a gagging noise.  “Sounds delicious, Mikey.  I’m still voting for the pork chops and cookies.”

Two weeks later, the men had settled into a routine.  Michael went for his training each morning and returned each evening just after seven-thirty.  Aaron had checked in with the university to change his housing status and register for his classes and was looking forward to orientation in August.  He’d met with the attorney for the trust and learned that the taxes and utilities were taken care of by the trust.  There was also a procedure for minor repairs.  Aaron would receive a small amount of money each month until he was thirty.  At that point, he could decide to take full ownership of the house.  The trust would continue, and he could name an heir or, if there were none, it would pass to Michael.

Aaron found a part-time job at a grocery store about five blocks from the house.  Part-time turned into at least thirty-six hours each week as employees took a vacation or left.  Scanning groceries and running the register turned out to be a simple task for him, and his speed increased immensely after only a few days on the job.  Even the task of memorizing the produce codes, which was the most daunting part of the training, was soon mastered.

The most challenging part of Aaron’s new job was not staring at the man who took care of the dairy department.  Joshua Hall, a man of twenty-six years, had auburn hair and bright blue eyes with dark lashes.  Aaron had memorized his features when they were introduced during his first week.  Josh, as indicated by his name badge, rarely came up to run a register, but when he did, Aaron had difficulty concentrating.  Aaron wasn’t sure whether Josh’s best features were his slightly curly hair, his beautiful eyes, his muscular arms, his broad shoulders that were accentuated by his thin waist, or what lay hidden under the work apron he wore to keep his clothing clean.

Aaron wanted to be careful.  He kept his ears open to discover whether Josh was married, had a girlfriend, or might be open to going on a date with another man.  At the end of his second week of employment, he had discovered nothing.  Everyone was as tight-lipped about personal matters as he was.  Week three gave him an opportunity to pry.

The early morning checker went on vacation during Aaron’s third week, and he was chosen to replace her.  Getting off at four in the afternoon meant he was getting off at the same time that Joshua Hall’s shift ended.   Aaron followed Josh out into the bright afternoon sun.

Josh immediately threw his hands up to shield his eyes.  “Man, that’s too bright.”

“Blue eyes and fair skin make you more susceptible,” said Aaron.

Josh turned to face him and raised an eyebrow.  “You noticed the color of my eyes?”

Oh, shit, thought Aaron.  I’ve outed myself.  May as well go for it.  Aloud, he said, “Of course I did.  Who wouldn’t?  Here,” he added as he handed Josh his pair of sunglasses.  I have another pair at home.”

“Thanks.”  Josh took them and put them on.  

Aaron thought Josh looked even sexier.

“Let me give some advice to the cute kid,” said Josh.  “Avoid felons.  Your life will be easier.”

Aaron stepped closer.  “First, I’m not a kid.  I’m a sophomore at WSU.  Younger than you, I’m sure, and not opposed to taking advice, but you don’t come across as a hardened criminal type.”

Josh smiled.  “Another thank you for that, but looks can be deceiving, as they say.”

“How about you fill me in on some details and let me decide?  I may not be wise to the entire world, but I’m wise enough not to make decisions without as much data as possible.”

Josh smiled again.  “OK.  Walk with me to the bus stop, and I’ll fill you in.”  The two men began to walk to the corner of the parking lot.  “It’s a short story,” Josh said.  “I was twenty.  I got into a fight with my mother after she found a gay magazine in my room.  She said really ugly things,  I went into the driveway and got into the car and drove off.  Except it was my aunt’s car, and she called the police.  Felony theft of an automobile.  Two years in state prison and three years probation.  I just got off probation four months ago.  End of story except that it follows you wherever you go.”

Josh stopped walking.  “My suggestion is that you keep going.  I don’t see a bright future.”

Aaron faced him.  “You’ve got a job.  You’re a hard worker.  You’re sexy as fuck, and you’re honest.  You sound like great boyfriend material to me.”

“There are a lot of things you can’t do with a prison record,” Josh added.  “I only have that job because the manager’s brother is a friend.”

“Lots of people only have jobs because they know someone.  I think you’re only looking at the negatives.  I know that’s easy to do.  I was doing that earlier this year.  Not that the situation is in any way similar.”

The two of them stood next to the sign indicating that bus 87 stopped there.

“So, am I wallowing in too much self-pity to see a future bright with promise?” asked Josh.

“Honestly, I sense no self-pity at all.  But ask yourself whether you’re spending your time looking back with regret rather than forward with hope.  My grandfather told me once that he thought that I was prone to doing that.  I realized that I was.  Of course, it took me some time to analyze things, and I continued to do it.  Especially when I’m feeling down.”  Aaron grabbed onto the pole holding the sign and swung around it.  “Are you feeling down, Josh?”

“Not inordinately.”  He smiled again.  “And not while you’re doing that.”

“Come have dinner with me,” said Aaron.

“Charming and disarming.”

“I was going for irresistible.  I guess I fell short.”

“Not at all,” replied Josh.  “I’d love to.  What about across the street at Long John Silver’s?  I love the batter they put on their fish, but I don’t go often.”

“My treat.  I asked you,” said Aaron.

“Then I’ll treat the next time.  I think I already know better than to argue with you.”

The two of them crossed the street.  Aaron looked up at the bright blue sky and said a quiet ‘thanks’.  Joshua took the opportunity to confirm his original assessment of his coworker.  ‘Cute, fit, great smile, firm ass.  Maybe the future does have possibilities.’  Josh smiled a broader smile as he held the door open for Aaron.

The bright afternoon sky had dimmed considerably by the time Aaron finished his one piece of fish and three shrimp.  His previous visit to a Long John Silver’s had resulted in an overstuffed belly and the nausea that stems from continuing to overeat when one’s stomach is screaming that it’s completely full.  Josh had ordered one piece of fish, three shrimp, and a glass of water, so Aaron had simply replied, “Make that two.”

Josh disclosed more facts about growing up in the closet, and Aaron wondered whether most of the stories were written on similar frameworks with just various degrees of violence.  What he no longer wondered was whether he wanted to ask Josh over for a session of heavy making out.

“Josh, do you want to come over to my place?  We can talk some more or play video games, watch a movie, or simply kiss.”

Laughter emanated from Josh, and his eyes seemed to sparkle like well-cut sapphires.  “I doubt that time with you would ever be labeled simply kissing.”

Aaron grinned.  “I’m only a few blocks from here, and I’ll give you a ride back to your place.  Next time, you can bring a spare set of clothes.”

“Next time?  You’re already counting on a next time?” Joshua continued his laughter.

“You’re the one who said there’d be a next time before we even started on this time,” replied Aaron.

“Me?”

“You’re treating, remember.”

“Yeah, I did say that,” said Josh as they stepped out into a cooler afternoon.  “Maybe we should do our next time tomorrow, and I will bring a change of clothes.”

A crack of thunder vibrated the air.

“I should take the next bus, and you should run home.”

A bright flash with another rumble answered him.

“Maybe you should run home with me.  You’ll get drenched waiting for the bus.”

A gust of wind and a light rain began, almost as if on cue.

Aaron grabbed Josh’s hand and pulled him down the sidewalk and when he saw no cars on the road, he pulled him across.  The sky darkened as the storm clouds moved in.  Josh removed the sunglasses and tucked them into his pocket.  “Do you really have another pair at home?” he shouted as they ran side by side toward Aaron’s home.

“I do,” came the reply.  “But even if I didn’t, I still would have given them to you.  You needed them more.”

The wind blew more strongly, whipping the rain until it stung as it slapped their skin.  Aaron reached out once more and directed Josh into a driveway and to the back porch of the home of his grandparents.

“You live here?” shouted Josh as Aaron struggled to pull the key from his wet pants pocket.  With the door finally open, Aaron pushed Josh into the rear entryway.

“It’s my grandparents’ house.  They don’t live here.  My grandmother lives with my parents.  Grandpa died this spring.”  Aaron turned to look directly into Josh’s crystal blue eyes.

Josh saw the need as it took form in the eyes gazing at him.  He was familiar with that need; it lived within him.  Josh stepped against Aaron pushing him against the doorframe, and they kissed.  The physical contact of their lips was neither tenuous nor fleeting.  Aaron’s lips parted allowing Josh’s tongue to brush across them.  A moan from deep with Aaron vibrated against the back of his throat.  Josh felt it rather than heard it, and it ignited a passion within his soul.  He pulled back slightly and gazed into Aaron’s eyes.  He realized the need he saw there was not simply for sex or sexual release.  Aaron’s need went deeper; he needed a human connection.

Joshua Hall surprised himself when he pulled Aaron to him and said, “I trust you, Aaron.  Somehow, I know that you’re not just here to use me.  That makes me want to give and share.”

Aaron kissed his cheek and ran his fingers through Josh’s hair.  “Let’s toss these wet clothes into the washer and go up to my room.  We can get under the covers and listen to the storm.”  He took Josh’s hand and led him to the small room next to the kitchen where the washer and dryer stood.  Through the laundry room window, the last gasps of daylight were snuffed out by the clouds and the crackle of lightning illuminated the two men as they stripped and placed their clothing into the machine and started a cycle.  “Your body is beautiful,” Aaron told him.

Josh felt a wave of nervousness pass through him.  The last time he’d seen a naked man was his last shower at the prison.  Fear had always been his primary emotion there.  

Another flash of lightning formed shadows that accentuated Josh’s muscular features.  Aaron brushed his fingers across the ridges of Josh’s abdomen and noticed the uncircumcised penis twitch as it grew slightly longer.

Both men heard the washer go quiet as the house lost power.  The sound of thunder rattled the house.  Aaron slipped his hand into that of the man in front of him.  “Follow me.”

The two nude men went silently up the stairs and into the bedroom.  Aaron went straight to the bed and pulled on the sheet.  “You first.”

Josh slipped between the sheets and turned onto his side.  He spread his arms out toward Aaron.  Aaron moved into the opening and was enclosed by strong arms that made him feel safe and wanted.  The two men began kissing again.  Aaron’s free hand moved from Josh’s hair to his ear, down the side of his body to rest with a firm ass cheek in his grasp.  After giving it a squeeze, he moved his hand to grip Josh’s hardening cock.  As he did so, his kisses began to travel down Josh’s body.  Aaron kissed Josh’s neck, collarbone, and chest.  He spent several seconds running the tip of his tongue around the nipple.  A sense of thrill accompanies his tongue moving over his tight abs and reaching the hairy region at the base of his partner’s rock-hard dick.

“You don’t have to, you know,” said Josh even though he wanted Aaron to continue.

“I know,” Aaron whispered back, “but I want to.”

With his hand, Aaron moved the foreskin back and forth before placing his mouth over the head and manipulating it with his tongue.  Small, barely audible moans emanated from the head of the bed as Aaron moved his lips farther down the shaft.  He estimated the erection to be about seven inches in length.  Less than six inches would fit into his mouth, and he wanted to take in the entire thing.  Relaxing his throat as much as he could, Aaron prepared to force the penis past the back of his mouth.  He felt the resistance, pushed away the natural urge to gag, and heard the sound as Josh’s erection entered his throat.  Aaron’s nose, buried in the mound of pubic hair, sensed the musky aroma although he was unable to breathe in.  Aaron’s tongue moved up and down the base of the shaft until he was forced to ease back and take a breath.

While Aaron did not want to rush things, he wanted to feel Josh’s erection moving in and out of his mouth.  With a deep breath, he attacked the rigid shaft again, crushing his nose into Josh’s bush.  

Josh seemed unable to say anything.  He grunted a small ‘oh’ several times before grabbing Aaron’s head with both hands.  From previous experience, Aaron prepared for his head to be held against Josh, but Josh pulled Aaron’s head away.

“I’m about to cum,” a breathless Josh exclaimed.

Aaron smiled as a stream of ejaculate was forced from Josh’s erection.  Some of it landed on Aaron’s nose and chin, but most splattered across Josh’s abs.

“I’m sorry.  I wanted it to last longer, but it… I couldn’t… you were…”

“It’s fine,” said Aaron.  “Did it feel good?  Did you like it?”

“Oh, yeah.  No one’s ever treated me like that.”

“Let me get a warm washcloth,” said Aaron as he got up and disappeared into the hall.  He returned a few moments later to clean Josh’s chest and abs.  

“That feels good, too.  It’s nice and warm.”

Aaron placed the used cloth on the nightstand and cuddled up against Josh.  “Joshua?  Would it be weird to say that this, I mean being held like this, is my favorite part?  Not that I don’t love the other stuff, because I certainly do.  Somehow, though, this part…”

“I know.  It’s not weird.  I think this is the part people need the most, and it’s the part we rarely get.”